The Wisdom of Funky Bugs

2011-05-06T13:42:00.002-09:00

Blink. I'm gone.
Blink again. I'm in school.
Blink once more. I'm a graduate nurse.
Soon, after a few more blinks, I'll pass my boards and be an actual RN.

And in between the blinks I found some weaknesses, drew upon the strengths of others, stayed in love, fell in love, got confused, and sorted it out.

This is my life. It's not normal, but it's easy when I stop worrying about what everyone else might think when I'm not around to hear their thoughts.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Hi Blake

2009-06-17T03:46:00.002-09:00

Welcome to the domain that still archives all my thoughts coursing over several years. I knew you couldn't resist the urge once I gave you the secret password.

Suggestion: Start from the beginning. It's a lot like cruising through my flickr stream ... the transition is visible.

And if I say anything you are offended by, check the date. I've grown up a lot since before you know me.

Ti voglio bene,
Funky

This is Funky, and that is all.

Confessions of a Procrastinator

2009-03-11T17:58:00.001-09:00

Today ... I feel like it got dark too soon. I spent the entire day focused, or so I thought, on the right things. But here it is almost 11 p.m. and I haven't accomplished a fraction of what I needed to in order to stay on top of my class.

Oh, right. I've been away. You didn't know.

I'm taking Anatomy and Physiology II this semester. It's hard. Really hard. And it takes a lot of time. A.Lot.Of.Time.

Anyhow, I'm never ahead, always scrapping at the last minute (yes, scrapping ... as in fighting) to prepare for this or that. I'm not one of those "study at the last minute" kind of students ... but it always seems like the tests come up so fast that I've barely had time to prepare in advance. So I fumble and struggle and probably lay the foundation for some mighty fine ulcers ...

And it's kinda dumb of me to complain about not having enough time to do it all when I'm sitting here blogging AGAIN...

But I type so much faster than I can comprehend these chapters ... and everyone needs a break now and again.

So I'll raise my glass to a better and more productive day tomorrow...

... and pray we don't have a pop quiz in the meantime.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Is this thing on?

2009-03-10T17:54:00.003-09:00

I stopped. I start.

Stay tuned is a cliche. So I'll just fill you all in now.

I quit my job and started school. I'm going to be a fan-fucking-tabulous nurse. You just wait and see.

I am utterly in love with myself. My life is that good. Yes, the economy has me eating a lot of pb&js, but I don't give a shit. I like peanut butter. A lot.

I finally have friends again after all these years of moving away from all of them. I have real friends that I can text and giggle with, that I can act stupid in public with, that I can cry to or complain to ... and I love them. I have managed to surround myself with the coolest people, and I'm grateful every day that they think I'm cool enough to be seen with.

I'm still married to the LoveBug ~ why wouldn't I be? He is truly amazing and absolutely refuses to let me fuck this up. He recovered from his broken leg and now runs marathons and and enters triathlons.

LighteningBug is graduating high school this year. She has been accepted to a few of her choice schools. We are praying she chooses the one around the corner as opposed to the one up north.

CadiBug is in her junior year and has transfered to an charter high school that has classes on the community college campus. She is dual enrolled, so technically she's both a high school junior AND a college freshman. She is still amazingly creative, and she has picked up a camera. For that, please stay tuned.

CuddleBug is in tenth grade, and we all hope he moves on to 11th. He has given us quite the year. He is still cuddly and loveable, but he is also a little boy in a big boy world. He's trying to solve that dilemma by looking in all the wrong places. I will personally rid the world of every last one of them before I'll see that bright child go down.

I never took that cross country trip with the Brit. But you knew that.

And I have found my fire, my words, my passion for life. I'm pretty sure I didn't find it in my pre-nursing school text books, but regardless ...

I have to clean up that sidebar. And those posts that have lost their linky lovin'. I'll get around to it. Right now, just let me enjoy writing again :)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Housekeeping

2007-10-31T19:34:00.000-09:00

I was just wandering around here this evening, and I can tell you that this place needs a swift stiff broom and some fresh air.

Unfortunately all I have right now is a nice stiff martini and a lot of hot air.

But after reading this and that spanning almost three years, I realize that's exactly what I like about my writing. Yeah, I said that. "I like my writing." I also like my singing voice, and I like pictures of myself that don't make me look old or fat. Thank God for photoshop on the last one.

I'm going to write for awhile again, and for the time being, I'm disabling comments. I'll put an e-mail address at the end if you really want to bitch at me, but I can't come back here and do what I do if I'm waiting to see what you'll say about it.

But I'm going to start writing again because my life is a freaking whirlwind. I'm only remotely surprised when my husband says, "yes, please take off work and drive across the country with that British guy".

And you know you want to hear about that, right?

Yeah? Bugger off then... I sure as hell want to write about it... plus I want to pick up more British insults like twat and fecker.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Okay... so I can't remember my Haloscan password. But I'm NOT reading comments. Okay, I'll read them, maybe... but I'm NOT going to acknowledge that I read them. Nope. Not gonna read 'em.

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

2007-10-24T19:20:00.000-09:00

Last night I was minding my own business, goofing off in flickr, when suddenly the url to this blog shows up in a group chat I'm dancing around in.

Just the url

And yeah, my heart stopped for a brief second. And I can't really say why. I think it's because while I can't bring myself to delete this space or the words of the last few years, I'm not really sure I want to claim ownership of them either.

In the year or so (more like two) since I stopped being little miss semi-pro blogger, I've become another person altogether.

Not sure I like her though... but I digress.

I explained in that little chat that I never blog anymore... that I stopped because I ran out of things to say. To which at least one person mocked me.

That's true though. The fire died, and took all my words to the grave.

I thought about coming in here tonight and quickly removing the evidence of who I was before I was found... but I can't do it. Nobody has the right to make me go into hiding. Nobody has the power to put baby in a corner unless she lets them.

And I'm tired of letting them.
Tired of letting him.

Once upon a time I let 30+ years of my life be ripped from me... and I let someone fill all the spaces and holes that were left in me. And now I'm so dependent on being whole because of that person, that I don't know how to be whole without him.

If a funky bug ever had any wisdom to begin with, she would have recognized that.

As it stands, she's trying to come to terms with it now.
That's a start, yes?

This is Funky, and that is all.

The body's an eight, the brain's a ten, so let's go.

2007-06-06T21:58:00.002-09:00

I don't claim to be prettier than everyone else.

But I'm a damn bit smarter than most.

So if you would, attorney person in the elevator, do not, under any circumstances, ever, ever, ever again, have the audacity to tell the person on the other end of your cell phone, "No, I shouldn't be having this conversation in public, but I think it's safe to say it will just go right over her head."

It's an elevator, you dumb fuck, not the Roman Colliseum.

And just so you know, I typed your transcript last week. I believe the phrase you were looking for is, "for all intents and purposes" not "from our intensive purpose is..."

But Did Thee Feel the Earth Move?

2007-06-05T00:20:00.002-09:00

I stayed up all night doing him.

But not like that.

Like this: Layers and masks, levels and curves, filters and blending modes.
Who know those words could be so sexy?

I am officially a post processing junkie. And that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it.

And because I'm fair and stuff...
And I can't take all the credit

This photo was assisted by the fabulous action offered by RastaRicanStudio.
And yeah, I took it from there.

Does This Puddle Make Me Look Fat?

2007-06-03T20:58:00.001-09:00

Does This Puddle Make Me Look Fat?, originally uploaded by funkybug.

So yeah...

Uh, hey?

Right... so... let's see...

I'm thinking about coming back to writing some.

Not because I want comments. Cause I don't really.

Like all those tag-you're-it things --- and then I spent hours trying to be reciprocal and kind.

And I can't, on-a-count-a I hate that.

So here's the new rule.

I'm gonna write stuff here sometimes.

And you can leave a comment if'n you want to.

But you don't have to. At all. Ever even.

Because truth be told, nobody cares about blogs. I have a t-shirt that says so.

I just thought it might be nice to chronical some things for myself. And I sort of like this template. And there are things I should (and may) remove from my sidebar, lest you think I'm trying to go pro again. But I'm just not that interested in taking the time to do it.

So here we go again, right?
But not so much. Okay?

So Let's Just Say...

2007-05-03T19:02:00.000-09:00

Maybe the girl will be coming home soon.

This is Funky, and that is all.

I Drink Because I'm Mommy

2006-10-25T20:40:00.000-09:00

*Sung poorly to the tune of "I Sing Because I'm Happy"

I had another working title for this post.
It was going to be...

SAY GOODNIGHT, FUNKY

A few months ago I found a shirt at the mall that said, simply,

"Nobody Cares About Your Blog"

I bought it because it made me giggle.

Fact of the matter is, it's also fairly true. At least to the point when you have to start dividing your time between sleep, sanity, and all those other necessities I seem to have misplaced.

We're on WWIIII (more like3,779) here in my house. I'm not going to whine, moan, or complain about it anymore.

Raising my kids is simply a day by day by day job.
Some days are extremely rewarding. Many more are very taxing.

And so I'm shutting her down. Not the kids, the blog.

Because I need to focus on the day by day by day part of maintaining my sanity so that I can raise my kids, play with my husband, and drink less.

And that means saying good-bye for now.

Greekchickie, thanks for the goodie in the Dasani bottle. I'll put it to good use.
Heather, thanks for re-sparking my love of the shutter.
Scotty, before blogs, there was e-mail.
Kami, thanks for taking care of my husband while he was broken on your turf.
John, thanks for my daily dose of "Kids will not kill you."

All of you, thank you.

This is Funky, and this really is all.

Been a Long Time Gone

2006-10-23T18:54:00.000-09:00

But I'm still alive.

Hey, look what I can do.

Hair, Makeup, and Portrait by Funky

Attitude most definitely genetically imparted by Funky

This is Funky, and that is all.

Theory of Relatively

2006-10-15T15:34:00.000-09:00

LoveBug and I went to "All That Glitters" last night in Tampa. It was a wine tasting benefit, so of course it was for a good cause. We got decked out and hit the ground running at 6:30p.m. I think I stopped drinking a hair before 10p.m. By the time the doors closed at 11p.m. I was stumbling to the car.

We sat in the parking lot for a period of time before I felt sufficiently close to passing out, thereby allowing my husband to actually move the vehicle without causing major sickness.

I woke up to the smell of petrol because we were almost out of gas. I stumbled from the car and waiting along the side of the road until he was done. He brought me bread, which I tried to eat, unsuccessfully. I made my way back to the car and rode home with a 32oz plastic cup mounted under my chin, just in case.

The next time I woke we were in our driveway. I opened the door and threw up in the lawn. I stumbled past my son on the way to the bedroom, swearing that I would never drink again. I slept on the bathroom floor. It was uncomfortable, but comforting to know the toilet was just a hurl away.

I woke this morning with a bruised forehead, most likely from the door lock.

The benefit was great fun, and thankfully I remember 99% of it. I procured some fabulous art work by a student at Ringling. I don't have pictures of the pieces I won in the auction, but here is a sample of his work. You can find more of his stuff at www.myspace.com/jrodrig2

LoveBug bought some wine -- he's not sure how much as he was a bit toasty at the time of purchase. He said, "It's okay, it's for a good cause," to which I replied, "Cause we were drunk." To which we giggled for a split second before grabbing our heads and groaning in pain.

I'm relatively sure I shall never, ever drink again.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Funky Was Here

2006-10-14T06:42:00.000-09:00

Is a picture really worth 1,000 words?

Only if your imagination is less than active.

This took place Thursday night in Tampa, Florida at the Sheryl Crow/John Mayer concert we attended. According to John Mayer's blog, this stunt is in retribution for an end-of-tour prank he pulled on her the night before. I think perhaps we were treated to the best "gotcha" of the tour. For full details on the prank, and more photos of the incredible Sheryl Crow in her undies, you can click on the link.

The show was awesome, of course. As a huge Mayer fan, I was surprised that I was blown away by him. I know he's talented, but genius? I had no clue. But I honestly think this boy is going to be the best thing to come out of his generation.

Other than that, LoveBug and I sat behind a group of six people that were practicing swinging, and I don't mean on a playground. Talk about a strange distraction. Sorry I didn't get pictures of that, but I stole the above from John. Sorry.

This is Funky, and that is all.

'Nuff Said?

2006-10-11T17:47:00.000-09:00

It's a start, but it's not nearly enough. Get out there and have the conversation!

Now, I'm off to bed, and tomorrow I'm off to see John Mayer... which won't involve a bed at all, regardless of his place in my Top 3.
This is Funky, and that is all.

Bizarro World

2006-10-10T18:57:00.000-09:00

Weird things uttered today:

"Mom, would you like to join me and Winnie on a walk?"

"How much time do you have to do that exercise thing? You're already a MILF... I mean, that's what my friends say. I'm not saying which ones, but they all say you're hot."

This is Funky, and that is all.

Dear Mike

2006-10-09T18:11:00.000-09:00

Dear Mike,

Many moons ago you bought me this:

And I swore I would use it faithfully. And I got on it that very first week.

For one whole minute.

After awhile it began to collect dust in the corner of the living room. That is until you tripped over it when your leg was broken.

Then it began to collect dust in the boy's room.

I swore I'd use it more when I moved it, because now I could exercise AND spend quality time with my son.

But his room smells like a whole lot of feet.

So it collected more dust.

Today the boy and I drug it back out to the living room because your leg isn't broken anymore.

And as if dragging it across the house weren't work out enough, I actually used the damned thing. It hurt like hell, and I loved every (counted) second of it.

So I know this is late coming, but thank you for my work-out thingamabob.

Love,
Your sweaty, tired, and very proud wife.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Countdown to a breakdown

2006-10-04T18:26:00.000-09:00

Tomorrow night is photography class. I've mulled over things all week, and after much thought, I've decided I'm turning in the damned photograph. You guys were right -- fuck her.

I'm sure everyone will hate me for it, and everyone will feel sorry for her. But that's okay.
She got the sympathy.
She got the class behind her.

But I got the fucking shot.
Game over.

This is Funky, and that is all.

The Foley Scandal -- In Child's Terms

2006-10-01T19:12:00.000-09:00

A dramatization* of Foley's overly friendly email, in easily understandable Muppet form so you too can get an idea of why people are upset:

*Disclaimer: the above characters do not actually have peens. Grover, on the other hand, is a total freak who can't keep it in his furry little pants. And you don't even want to know about Guy Smiley...

/shamelessly stolen from Farker Cordwainer Deathbird

//funky can't stop laughing at this

///ever

This is Funky, and that is all.

Worms

2006-09-28T17:37:00.000-09:00

I had no idea doing this...

would open this...

or make me feel like singing this...

Nobody loves me, everybody hates me,

Think I'll go and eat worms;

So I get to class tonight, ready to run some prints. I discover that my negatives from the shrine are not in my folder and suddenly remember that I left them sitting on my desk at home. I'm left with some artsy nude shots, or the Passion Play. Well, that made it a no-brainer, and I ran the print above.

But here's the thing (*cue the background music*)

Last week in class I was telling Professor Cutie Pants about the shrine (where it was, etc...) and he says, "You know where you need to go? The Passion Play property." A voice in the dark (we were rolling film in the darkroom) says, " I did. " Now I originally thought to myself, shoot. But you know the rest of the story. I went for the hell of it, but I didn't intend on turning any of the shots in, since the girl with the voice in the dark had already been there the week prior.

Then I saw the shot. It was perfect in every way. The contrast is dead on. The composition works. The lighting was flawless. It was the one. And I had to turn it in, given that my other options were an hour away. (Okay, end the flashback sequence soundtrack)

She saw me running my print tonight and had a FIT! She called me out immediately, telling me that I stoled her location. Hello? Stole it? No, not really... but yes, I knew she had been there first. And I told her that I left my other negatives at home, and that I felt kind of bad. And she proceeds to tell me I should feel worse than kind of bad (keep in mind she's making a scene in front of the entire class.) I asked her if more than one person had ever shot a picture of the Grand Canyon, and she said that wasn't the point.

So for the rest of the night, as I walked in and out of the darkroom, I walked into conversations anong several of my classmates revolving around my transgression. I should have asked first. I'm a copy cat. I'm rude. I'm stuck up. I'm a bitch. I'm unoriginal. I think I'm the shit. You name it, I'm it.

And after about two hours of this, I quietly packed up my stuff and left early.
I'm still turning it in, because it is beautiful, and I'm really proud of it.

But I feel like I'm eating the worms spilling out of the can I opened.

This is Funky, and that is all.

That's All for Now

2006-09-27T17:17:00.000-09:00

I had to take yesterday off. It's not that I didn't have anything to write about... heaven knows there's always drama or excitement in my life. I just didn't have the urge to type out anything. I'm still feeling that way in some regards. I think I'm ready to leave the pro blogging behind me now, and instead just write when the mood strikes.

So yeah - it's not striking much right now either. But I'll still be around from time to time, rest assured.

Thanks for the input on my photos. I'm still undecided, and I go back to the darkroom tomorrow night. I guess I'll run five or six of my favorites, size them up, and fine tune the one with the most potential. It's one thing to tweak with Photoshop, it's another thing altogether do trust chemicals and dead trees to do the trick.

This is Funky, and that is all for now.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Life Behind The Lens - Adventures in Infrared

2006-09-25T17:08:00.000-09:00

There she is -- The Project from Hell, in its completion. I call it The Church.

Both the tree AND the door were shot in Key West.

My latest assignment is shooting infrared film. We were given two assignments: Nudes in Nature, and Civilizations Lost. Since my life has been all about the camera lately, I'll just share a few of my favorite shots and leave it at that.

Just so you know, that's real lens flare, not the Photoshopped kind!

Well, this next one deserves a story. I'm sure many of you have heard of the Black Hills Passion Play. The guy who started it also started one here in Florida so he could continue his roll as Jesus when the weather got too cold up north. It lasted a few years, but shut down awhile back. It reopened in 2000, but Hurricane Charlie shut it down again. It's been an abandoned property since then. As you can see, time has not been kind, but man was the film kind to the property!

One more in color to give you an idea of the state of abandonment.

Next are some of my shots from St. Anne's Shrine. Here's the Wikipedia story behind the shrine.

Ste Anne des Lacs

The story of St. Anne's Shrine goes like this: A man from Canada came down to Florida with his very sick son. His son had been diagnosed as terminally ill. While traveling in Florida, they came upon the little lake at what is now St. Anne's. They swam and camped there and the boy's condition improved, and he was miraculously cured. His cure was attributed to the healing waters, and so the man single-handedly built a shrine to St. Anne, a popular Canadian saint associated with water, in an oak hammock next to the lake. The shrine was de-sanctified by the Diocese of St. Augustine in the 1960's. The Catholic church eventually demolished most of the church, leaving only the altar.

OH YEAH... ONE MORE THING: I CANNOT decide which of these infrared shots should be turned in for a grade. I'd love your input on that!

This is Funky, and that is all.

Too Busy

2006-09-19T02:32:00.000-09:00

Too busy.
Need a break.
See you next week.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Picasso's Cup, The Grape Gatsy, and a Saint Named Anne

2006-09-17T17:24:00.000-09:00

I can remember the day when weekends meant cleaning and yard work -- doing all the things that you don't have time to do during the work week. Seeing as how I just flew through the house getting it picked up so the maids can clean tomorrow (I know, it just sounds weird), I can honestly say that I don't remember what a mundane weekend is like. I guess I have my adventurous husband to thank for that! So here's my weekend recap!

Friday night my daughter wanted to go run around the new mall/community they have erected on the southside of town. It's really such a neat place -- it's almost like getting away to a small town where everything is open late... plus it's patrolled by cops, so it's a "safe" place (safe from her, that is.) So hubs and I decided to hang out there, rather than drop her off, drive back home, then turn around to pick her up later. So we had dinner, then stumbled upon a wine and cigar bar where we spent an hour or so drinking and giggling and making fun of Geraldo Rivera (who was bitching on the big screen tv). Then we wandered over to the ice cream parlor for a naughty treat before heading to Picasso's Cup, where we painting some creations which shall be picked up in about ten days.

I goofed off all day Saturday until it was time to get ready for The Grape Gatsby. This is the 20's era costume party I mentioned last week. The Tampa Theater is a historic institution that frequently holds fund raisers to help maintain the building. I wish I'd thought to take pics of the theater because it's really impressive. Next time, right? Anyhow, we got all dressed up and headed out. I went as a flapper and LoveBug was a gansta! We sampled some great wine and several area restaurants had set up food booths where we got to taste some awesome food. Of course, The Great Gatsby was playing on the screen, but most people were wandering around drinking, eating and networking. We ended the evening by going to the Hard Rock Casino all dressed up crazy and dropped some cash in the machines.

Sunday I had to start my next photo project (yes, I know I haven't finished the hell one yet) so I loaded up some film and we headed out to capture some images. The assignment is actually in two parts. Using infrared film we have to portray the following: Nudes in Nature (still looking for my model on THAT one) and Civilizations Lost. We found an old shrine in the middle of nowhere that was really amazing. Of course I blew the whole roll there, and then took out my digital and snapped some more images to share. These are all pre-production, raw images, but I had to show you how cool this place was!

And that was my crazy and fun-filled weekend! I'm definitely recharged and ready to tackle my dark room time tomorrow!

** Blogger is being bitchy about pictures, so I'm going to stop trying to upload them. If you click on my Flickr banner on the side of the page, you can see more Saint Anne Shrine shots.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Not.Even.Close

2006-09-14T17:36:00.000-09:00

It wasn't even in the ballpark. It didn't come close to being everything I'd hope it would be.
If you want to hear me bitching, click the link.

If not, here's the synopsis. I spent almost four hours in the dark room and still was unable to create anything I could turn in. This shit is HARD! I have to go back Monday and try again. I guess I need to do a re-shoot and see if there's anything I can find that I can work with. At least I'll have 8 hours on Monday to try to produce something half-way decent.

Tonight, I'm just depressed tonight.

No sympathy comments may be left below. Instead, go out and have yourself a fabulous weekend. I'm going to a 20's era costume party on Saturday. Pictures and stories to follow.

Vacation Recap Three -- Costa Maya and the Horse With No Name

2006-09-13T22:10:00.000-09:00

Like most women I know, there's a little girl living inside me who never got a pony for Christmas. So when my husband and I were deciding on an excursion for our stop in Costa Maya, I conjured up my best "the kids will LOVE this" line and convinced him to sign us up for horse back riding. Yes, this manipulation was woven before the Branch of Doom in Cozumel AND the Unfortunate Breaking Incident in Belize.

Costa Maya is a relatively new port in Mexico, and had I known that right there on the port were several bars and a few pools, I might have opted for a nice, relaxing day with my friends Dos Equis and Corona. Instead, I hopped on a bus and went beyond Costa Maya to a horse ranch.

I looked so damned cute this day. I was wearing these little Ranger Bob shorts with a white tank top. I had a good tan, with a bit of a sunburn on my left shoulder (damn if I never learned how to properly face the sun). I was wearing a cute little cowgirl-fashionista straw hat. This should be the best day. My foot was only slightly sore from the zip lining fiasco, and I was getting ready to mount me a horse in Mexico! (Save the pun, LoveBug, save the pun.)

The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us to separate into two groups: experienced riders, and dumb asses (hey, I speak some Spanish, okay... I know what he was saying in his brain.) I chose the dumbass group and drug my husband and children into the line with me. I know they're trail horses that have been lobotomized, but I figured better safe than sorry. God, that makes me laugh just thinking about.

So we get our horses assigned to us. We are told to love on them, but let them know we're in charge. We're told they all have no names, and we can call them whatever we want. I wrapped my arms around my horse's neck and whispered, "You are Bob, the mightiest trail horse in all of Mexico." Then we were off.

The horses walked nose to ass for miles and miles through the Mexican wilderness. Occassionally one would stop to eat a bush. Okay, occassionally Bob would stop to eat a bush. So I would firmly kick him, and he would break into a little trot to catch up with the ass in front of him. I loved it when Bob pretended to run like a real horse. It was exhilerating.

About a mile from the end of the trail we reached a clearing. The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us we could again seperate into two groups: those who wanted their horses to walk out the rest of the trail, and those who wanted to run their horses to the end. Well, I had already bonded with Bob, and I knew he wanted to run, so I joined the line of dumb asses again. When I got there, I noticed my dumb ass kids had also joined the line. I also noticed that all of the "experienced" riders had opted to stay with the walkers. No, apparantly I cannot take a hint. Apparantly being eaten by a branch and being pummelled by a treehouse were not a strong enough hint either.

So we took off. I gave Bob a gentle kick and said, "Run, Bob, run! You're free! No, seriously, Bob. Run. Bob, this is embarrassing. The other trail horses are way the hell up there. Come on, you stupid shit, run!" But Bob barely broke a trot. Then I remembered the Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude told us we could take our lead rope and whip the horse on each side of the neck if he was being stubborn. I hated to whip Bob, but he was obviously not understanding my particular dialect of Spanish. So I gave him a gentle thwack thwack, coupled with a gentle kick, kick, and that mother fucker took off running.

I'm screaming "Hell yes!" to the wind as it whips through my hair. All my troubles are leaving me behind. I pass my husband and catch up to my step-daughter, and Bob's still running. "Whoa" I say to Bob to slow him down. I pull back on his reigns. Bob keeps running. I notice I'm a little floppy in the saddle. "Whoa!" I yell to Bob as I reach for the reigns which are slipping through my hands. Bob keeps running.

My husband said it looked something like this. My left leg went up in the air. Then my right. Then both of them. Bob keeps running.

As I'm flying through the Mexican sky, heading towards the Mexican dirt, I think to myself, "Hell yes, this is going to hurt." I hear my step-daughter scream my name from far away.

My son says it went something like this. "Somebody fell off their horse!" he hears. He doesn't even look around. He just says, "Shit. It's my mom." At least someone in my family was taking notes.

I'm lying face down in the Mexican dirt. I'm thinking that perhaps lying here is not a bad idea. I sound like that stupid newscaster chick who fell off the grape-squishing platform and got the wind knocked out of her. I hear someone say, "Are you supposed to get off your horse?" I hear my husband say, "I don't know, but I damned sure am." I wait with a mouthful of dirt for my knight in khaki shorts to come to my rescue.

The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude and My Knight in Khaki Shorts reach me at the same time. They roll me over and I say, "I'm fine" but it sounds like "NGH-ugh nugh nnt." I'm on my feet. I don't look at my arm. Or my leg. The Real Live Mexican Cowboy Tour Guide Dude says, "Why didn't you pull the reigns back! I told you to stop if it was too fast!" Now, I know some Spanish, but I don't know how to say, "Fuck, Dude, I was too busy falling off the horse to take notes on why I fell off the horse," so I just say, "I tried." He says "That's why we call all our horses 'Gringo Killer', Senora." They help me onto my husband's horse so I can ride the rest of the trail. I pass Bob on the way, snacking on a bush.

So I got a free Corona out of the deal. They used it as an oral analgesic while they attended to the cuts and scrapes I put up here a few months back. I thought that was the worst of it, but it would be three weeks before my ass stopped hurting. Apparantly the larger part of me broke the fall.

This is Funky, and that is all.

"Wow" Moments

2006-09-12T18:13:00.000-09:00

Yep, I had 'em. Three of 'em.

First, House threw me a bone... a little Hugh Laurie insiders-only joke. Did you catch it when she said, "You'd better come up with a cunning plan..."? If anyone remembers Hugh Laurie's characters from the Black Adder, you'll remember the "cunning plan" line. Thanks, House.

Second, can you BELIEVE Nip/Tuck is taking on Scientology? Oh MAN is the shit gonna hit the Tech.

Finally, I ran to Best Buy earlier today to pick up Timberlake's new CD for CadiBug. Lo and behold, John Mayer's Continuum was $9.99, so Mama got her John on. I expected to love it, but I didn't expect this:

Belief
by John Mayer

Is there anyone who ever remembers
changing their mind from the paint on a sign?
Is there anyone who really recalls
ever breaking rank at all
for something someone yelled real loud one time?
Oh, everyone believes
in how they think it oughta be
Oh, everyone believes
and they're not going easily

Belief is a beautiful armor
and makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching underwater
you never can hit who you're trying for
Some need the exhibition
and some have to know they tried
It's the chemical weapon
for the war that's raging on inside
Oh, everyone believes
From emptiness to everything
Oh, everyone believes
and no one's going quietly

We're never gonna win the world
We're never gonna stop the war
We're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

Is there anyone who can remember
ever surrender with their life on the line?

What puts a hundred thousand children in the sand?
Belief can, belief can
What puts a folded flag inside his mother's hand?
belief can, belief can.

Man, am I glad I left him on the list.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Hijacked "Holiday"

2006-09-11T17:21:00.000-09:00

I really admire those who were able to find a way to put their 9/11 memories into words. I'm still forming my thoughts, and it's almost 9/12.

There's the obligatory...
Where was I? I was in my home in Indiana and my best friend Jodi called me and told me to turn on the news. Then another friend called and told me to turn on the news. I don't remember anything more about that day other than I really wanted to get my kids out of school and back home to me.

There's the, observed it this way...
Well, you'd think seeing as I work in a fucking courthouse that there would have been at LEAST a moment of silence, but nooooooooooooooooooo... just a few posters in a corner of the lobby next to the broken ATM machine. There was narry a mention of the day. And believe me, at my job, what I wouldn't GIVE for a moment of silence now and then.

Then there's the, how do you feel today?
Honestly, this is the tricky one. I feel like all politicians (not just the side I disagree with) have hijacked this day and turned it into a politcal football. I tried to listen to the radio this morning, but it turned into a campaign speech in ten minutes or less. You know, I feel like this; regardless of who you want to blame, who orchestrated this and why, etcetera... people... real people with kids and dogs and dates and vacations fucking died just living the day like we did... only in another place. And it makes me so angry that I too have succumbed to the 9/11 mentality of Us versus Them. So mostly, I feel angry that I have forgotten how I felt in 2001.

And finally... thanks beyond words to those heroes... and the little heroes left to carry on without them.

This is Funky, and that is all.

A Weekend Well Had

2006-09-10T16:53:00.000-09:00

Before I dive into this glass of wine and a rousing game of Cubis II, I'm just going to reflect on my weekend.

Friday -- awesome in that I got to do nothing. No one needed a ride anywhere. I came home, I stayed home. It was so freaking rare that I savored every second. I know it a few years they'll all be driving themselves around (and then I'll have new things to worry about), but right now it's all go go go.

Saturday I took CadiBug to the mall for a few hours. We had a blast -- wait, I should say, CadiBug took me to the mall. She has her permit now, so it's a constant "Can I drive? Can I drive?" It's the Permit Lament on a regular basis. However, we had fun together doing girl things. Later that night I got all dressy and shit because LoveBug took me to Tampa to see Rent. I've been dying dying to see it for so long, and I've avoided knowing ANYTHING about it so that I would be in awe the first time I saw it. OMG. I'm saying -- I couldn't talk for about five minutes after it was over. Everytime I tried to put into words what that show made me feel, I started crying.

Sunday was crazy day -- errands and upkeep and bullshit galore. My son, he bought a "grill." And he wants me to like it. And I can't because he looks like a dumbass and sounds like a moron. But oh how I love that boy, so I do try to let him make his own stupid mistakes.

And that was my weekend, in a condensed nutshell. How was yours?

This is Funky, and that is all.

By George, I Think She's Got It!

2006-09-08T15:57:00.000-09:00

It would take a miracle to describe what "it" is, but I got it.

I tossed and turned last night, partly from the rat's piss wine, and partly from the stress of my project.

I obsessed over it all the way to work.
I worked.
I obsessed over it all the way home.

How to make it work.
How.
How.
How.

And my mind spun and warbled and wandered.

Then it hit me.
OMG did it hit me.
Hard.

And this is going to kick such ass, ass will never be the same again.

Why of course I'll scan it for you. Next weekend.

Ta-ta ;)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Sauvignon Blanc Rant

2006-09-07T17:53:00.000-09:00

Yeah, just let me rant for a minute. Maybe four.

I just got home from photography class. Urgh. I mean, how hard is this stupid project if everyone else is already producing some pretty impressive pieces of work?!? My shit isn't working, even unimpressively.

And I'm just pissed, you know? I'm pissed because I'm a total psycho fucking Type A personality that has to not only master a task, but kick everyone else in the ass while doing it.

And I'm not kicking anyone's ass but my own.

And my professor, Dave, he says, "There will be nights like this. Don't let it get to you." And his dog is dying, so I feel bad and I say, "Yeah." And then I come home and pour a glass of wine.

But my husband finished off the red I had out, and I'm stuck with this shitty white that was in the fridge. And it tastes kind of like nail polish remover, but I don't care because I'm so pissy about class.

When will I find
That thing
I can do
And not care in the least
If I do it better than them?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Room for Squares, Not Bimbos

2006-09-06T18:08:00.000-09:00

"So, according to the wire, it's over," my husband said as I answered his phone call.

"Yeah, I know! I have four or five e-mails I read just before you called. I guess I really made an impression on you guys with my John Mayer rant, huh?"

"I think," he replied, "it was the noose hanging from our bedroom ceiling that alarmed me the most."

That's the quote from my husband's camp. Here's the quote from John's:

"A source from Mayer's camp told Us Weekly that the relationship 'was a 2 her camp spun into an 11.' Mayer has supposedly lost a lot of respect for his brief fling and 'now he will stay away from her. He thinks it's desperate. An attempt for her to stay in the spotlight."

I don't know what I love best about this: (a) That it's over, (b) this doctored photo of Us Weekly announcing the news,

or (c) that I was right about John Mayer all along. I KNEW he was too soulful to dip in that shallow pool.

Now the question is, do I replace Angelina with Julian?

She, who pussy whipped Brad Pitt, wed in a t-shirt covered in her man's blood, and says her dad needs therapy?

(another shameless excuse to post Julian McMahon's naked ass on my blog)

Or he, who hails from Australia, shows his ass unabashedly, and is going to play a character exploring his sexuality on this season's Nip/Tuck?

Decisions, decisions. Not. Welcome to my Top Three, Julian.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Changes in Latitudes

2006-09-04T16:51:00.000-09:00

There is absolutely nothing trite about that title. There is really something to the Keys. I don't know what it is about hitting Key Largo, but the feeling intensifies as each mile marker gets closer and closer to zero. I really did leave the world behind me. Just look at our faces and you'll see we all did. That is a genuine smile on each face.

I love the pace of Key West. There's a sign somewhere that says, "What's your hurry? You're already here." That sums it up perfectly. You just move at will, rest at will, laugh and drink and love at will. Rules don't have to be enforced with the kids because they don't exist. You just become the core of who you really are.

We're all back home now, sadly. And even though I know I'll be getting up to go to work tomorrow, it feels like someone else will be doing that. Right now I'm still in a Key West frame of mind. I hope it stays with us all for as long as it can.

This is Funky, and that is all.

You've GOT to be F-ing Kidding Me!

2006-08-31T17:35:00.000-09:00

I want you to really take a look at the following image. Click on it to enlarge it, then study it carefully.

This print is by fine art photographer Jerry Uelsmann. It is not, I repeat NOT photoshopped. Mr. Uelsmann does all his work in the dark room. All dodging and blending of images are done by hand on one single sheet of paper using multiple exposures and negatives. Now take a look at this one.

Pretty damned amazing, is it not? Mr. Uelsmann's work sells for THOUSANDS, and to date many of his works have been impossible to recreate by any other artist (using the darkroom, not photoshop.)

So THIS is MY first assignment for Photo II, which I began last week. I have to go out and shoot stuff, then after processing my negatives I must choose a few images to superimpose upon each other, using only my HANDS as dodging tools in the darkroom.

I firmly believe my beautiful professor has lost his fucking mind.

I have not even the slightest clue what to produce, let alone how to produce it. But LoveBug is whisking me off to Key West tomorrow for a long weekend. Perhaps inspiration will strike... if not, I pray lightening will because at this rate, I'm never going to make it through this class.

If I'm not deceased, I'll see you on Tuesday. Happy holidays!
This is Funky, and that is all.

The Primaries

2006-08-30T16:04:00.000-09:00

It's been 24 hours since I found out that John Mayer has been stemming the rose with Jessica Simpson. I've decided it's time to look at candidates to replace him on my Top 3.

Here's the short list of contenders.

Dr. McDreamy has been in the wings for awhile. In fact, he was in position to take Angelina's place, but for the fact that she's the token female on my list (soon to be replaced, perhaps, by Maggie Gyllenhaal)

Clay is an obvious choice, given that I may be bumping a singer. You think I care about the gay rumors? Go ahead Perez Hilton, call him The Gayken. Like him being gay makes me want him less. Like him being gay makes him less available than he already was.

Another singer in wings is Michael Buble. Since he's already seen my boobs, I'm not sure he's still eligible.

My husband, feeling that I was on the verge of drastically rearranging The List sent me this contender... Julian Mcmahon from NipTuck. I know we're supposed be looking at Mario's ass, but I can't stand that Saved by the Bell gigalo. Behold the power of Christian's ass. Hmmmmm.

I'll take write in nominations. Who am I missing???

This is Funky, and that is all.

This MUST Stop

2006-08-29T15:07:00.000-09:00

I was going to post something about Ernesto heading my way, but there's another natural disaster brewing that takes top priority.

No.

No.

Oh hell no.

John, listen --
One upon a time Antonio Banderas was the hottest thing on the market. Then he diddled that nasty ol' blonde Melanie, and he sank faster than Brooklyn informant tied to a block of concrete.

John, her body is not a wonderland, it's a wasteland heavily guarded by rabid pitbulls due to high levels of toxicity.

This must not happen. Please don't make me bump you from my top three. Please step away from the trashy blonde. Run to the nearest clinic, get tested, and fax me the results. I'll be seeing you in concert in a few short weeks, and I really don't want to break out my birdflu mask yet.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Wine - Oh!!!

2006-08-28T16:17:00.000-09:00

Seeing as I love my wine, I know you'll appreciate this fun weekend I had.

LoveBug and I went to Orlando to check out a place called Grapes to Glass. After testing/tasting/slugging back some various wines, we picked a nice Chateau du Something and made our way to the production area. Here we are getting ready to make our own wine.

Aren't we cute in our to-die-for aprons?
So now we're getting ready to make our own wine. The first step involved mixing distilled water with some kind of chemical. Don't ask me what it was -- I was kind of tipsy at this point from sampling and sampling and sampling the various choices.

The lady said I was a really good stirrer, so I got to take the paddle and give it a whirl.

Then we got to add some juice. this time Mr. BigBiceps did the honors, while I stirred.

Basically we found out that making wine is mostly taking pre-packaged shit and stirring it.

And stirring it.
And stirring it some more.
Believe it or not, we got to add grapes to the mix. Yes, not just juice, but real grapes... all sugary and wonderful. It was actually kind of obscene, squishing them out like that.
But then we tied the cheese cloth off and floated the bitch.

LoveBug put some themometer thing (Yes dammit, that IS the technical term) that measured the percentage of alcohol the batch contained.

Since it's a baby at 1%, we have to leave it for 8 weeks until it finishes becoming a grown-up wine. So LoveBug snapped the lid on and we said bye-bye.

In about eight weeks we'll get a call to come bottle and cork it. Any suggestions on what our private reserve should be called? You get bonus points if you comment on my 40 pound weight loss ;)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Something Funky This Way Comes

2006-08-23T17:15:00.000-09:00

I tried to sit down last night at the computer, and a slow haze came over me. It was strange to feel so weak and tired, given the fact that I slept well the night before. I decided to lay down last night "for a few moments." Apparantly I crashed and burned.

But I woke up this morning feeling as if whatever it was that had come over me must have gone with the night.

I was so wrong.

As I sit here right now, that slow, heavy haze is coming over me again.

I assume I'm getting sick with some funky bug or something.

Either that or I'm in the first stages of my yearly depression.

I'm not really in the mood for the depression thing, so I'm assuming I'm in just feeling shitty.

Be that as it may, I'll leave you with this shot of the most hysterical bathroom vending machine ever. Don't even ask how I ended up in this skank bathroom. The story isn't nearly as interesting as the footage taken.

Go ahead, talk amongst yourselves. I'll be back in a few days when the fog lifts.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Kiss the Queen, Baby

2006-08-21T18:10:00.001-09:00

I've been trying like hell to get online all night. I wish I could blame blogger, but it's my service here at home. It's so fucking unpredictable these days, and while I should admire my service's ability to be unpredictable and crazy, it mostly just pisses me off.

And I wonder if that's how the unpredictable and crazy me appears to the rest of the world?

And just as I'm pondering that thought, my service allows me to get online. Suddenly I'm jumping at the keyboard, and I'm grateful for this moment of lucidity that allows me to function. Then I start wondering if that's also how the rest of the the world sees me.

It's okay though, I still mostly I don't give a shit. It's who I am, and they can cherish the precious moments, or sit around drinking and bitching like I've been doing for the last few hours while trying to get something unpredictable and crazy to do my bidding.

Damn, it's good to be queen.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Kiss the Queen, Baby

2006-08-21T18:10:00.000-09:00

I've been trying like hell to get online all night. I wish I could blame blogger, but it's my service here at home. It's so fucking unpredictable these days, and while I should admire my service's ability to be unpredictable and crazy, it mostly just pisses me off.

And I wonder if that's how the unpredictable and crazy me appears to the rest of the world?

And just as I'm pondering that thought, my service allows me to get online. Suddenly I'm jumping at the keyboard, and I'm grateful for this moment of lucidity that allows me to function. Then I starte wondering if that's also how the rest of the the world sees me.

It's okay though, I still mostly I don't give a shit. It's who I am, and they can cherish the precious moments, or sit around drinking and bitching like I've been doing for the last few hours while trying to get something unpredictable and crazy to do my bidding.

Damn, it's good to be queen.

This is Funky, and that is all.

The Road to Well-Being is a Boring Journey

2006-08-20T17:06:00.000-09:00

I've spent so much time the last few months trying to get inside my brain and improve myself, that I've stopped doing one of my favorite things.

Being me.

And I'm all for self-improvement, but it shouldn't take over and change the core of who I am. Being a "better person" doesn't mean being a different person. "Rising above" is just a code word for ignoring the opportunity to have a little fun.

For instance:

I actually thought I was being a better person by ignoring the rude comments of an overly-promiscuous, jealous co-worker.
But it's much more fun to stoop to her level.
Like when she snidely said to me, "Gosh, we can't all marry into money like you," and I responded, "Well, you may be right, but I give you props for trying so damned hard."

And I've tried so hard to be a June Cleaver for my kids that I almost missed the opportunity to have this conversation with my daughter on the way to the Planned Parenthood to pick up some birth control pills:
"No pap smear, no exam. I'm not taking off my pants," she said, to which I replied, "Funny, if you'd only thought of that sooner, there'd be no need for this appointment at all."

See, those are things that crazy people say. So much for sanity. Bring on the crazy. It's what makes me who I am... and I honestly like the crazy me. She's so much more fun, and way more unpredictable that the boring me I've been living with for the last six months. All the voices in my head are my closest friends. And I'm tired of being a sane stick in the bland mud. Let someone else save the world now. I just want to be silly in it.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Chasing Inspiration

2006-08-14T06:14:00.000-09:00

I really have been reflecting lately on the topic of inspiration. More to the point, I've been wondering why my writing has changed. I think maybe "more to the point" may actually be the point indeed.

As a hazard of my current occupation, words have become extremely important to me. Nothing frustrates me more that having to record or transcribe live dialogue when the speaker has no intention of stating his/her point in a clear and concise manner.

The phrases "you know" and "I mean" are an anathema to me.

The verbal utterance "uh" should be subject to electric shock upon completion.

And for the love of Christ, people should be able to finish a sentence before starting another one.

So I've made it a point to chose my words very carefully lest I become a hypocrite of sorts. I make a concerted effort to not only shun those verbal hiccups, but to plot each syllable I bring forth.

In other words, I'm thinking too damned much these days about communicating. With only so much sane space in my brain, that exercise has bled over into my free-thinking zone.

I've forgotten how to sit down at the computer and just write the stuff in my brain. I've shut down all the voices in my head that used to frustrate me.

And you know, I sort of miss my little voicey friends. They're fun to be around.

This week I've decided my intellect needs a vacation. I put it on notice. I told it to pack a bag full of pajamas, granny panties, and romance novels and board a flight to the tropics. I'm plying it full of alcohol. I expect it to come back relaxed and refreshed.

While it's gone, the voices will be pulling double shifts. I told my funny to burn the midnight oil. And everyone else in there is rearranging the space in my brain to make room for creativity.

And I've put out an BOLO (be on the look out) for inspiration. When found, inspiration will be held without bond until further notice.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Where Did I Go?

2006-08-10T16:50:00.000-09:00

I'm kind of spent this evening. It's a long story. Not terribly interesting either. I'd tell you if I could (top secret court stuff), but you would read all that and still be bored shitless. And I'd be out of a job.

So anyhow, I was going through my archives looking for a rerun to post this evening... you know, just to keep the blog going. Now I'm sitting here thinking to myself, "Where did I go?"

I was witty, sarcastic, dark, and bitchy. Now I'm inside of myself, brooding, and boring.

And I yearn to back to being full on with the funny as opposed to full on with the bitchy. I just have to figure out who sucked the life out of my dick, and why on earth did they swallow instead of spitting?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Just Call Me Dr. Phyllis

2006-08-09T22:39:00.000-09:00

I spent the afternoon practicing two things: patience and therapy.

I have a co-worker that is having man troubles. IMHO her trouble is that she's yet to clue into the fact that she doesn't need to have one, but I digress.

Her boyfriend du jour is wrecking havoc on her mental stability. No, he doesn't beat her. No, he doesn't cheat on her. Yes, he talks her into the dirt.

I listened to her for the better part of the morning, on and off. My patience is always tried when I see a woman getting all splotchy in the neck and face because she can't figure out how to change her man into her childhood Prince Charming. My therapy practice came in the form of truly listening to her random statements, finding the jewels, and coining them back to her.

Me: Personally I make it a point to surround myself with friends and lovers who make me a better person.
Her: He has that same philosophy. He says you should always leave people better off than when you found them. What they do with that is up to them. So that's why he points things out that he thinks I should do, not do, improve upon, etc.
Me: Perhaps the best way to leave people better off than when you found them is to encourage their strengths, not highlight their weaknesses.

I sat back, astounded by what came out of my mouth. As the day wore on those words rang in my ears. As evening closes around me I ask myself...

If I really want to get better each day, maybe I should stop highlighting my weaknesses ("I'm too fat... short-tempered... cursed with kinky hair... stuck in a dead-end job..." etc...) and encourage my strengths.

And I think one of those is listening to and encouraging others. It sure as hell isn't punctuation. So yes, I'm definitely going forward with the Psychology Major.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Tomorrow's Today

2006-08-08T18:37:00.000-09:00

Yesterday was a rough day, as I stated...well... yesterday. I can't recall feeling so anxiety-ridden in so long, but it reminded me a lot of the way I felt before the big blow up with CadiBug. But nothing was that bad. In fact, nothing at all was bad. I just felt bad.

And I've learned that when I go into full-on bitch mode, the best thing I can do is to remove myself from the general population. I remember a counselor telling me that kids will blow up at the parent they feel the safest with. Kids know that the people who love them the most will never, ever turn away from them.

I'm here to tell you that it's not just kids who behave this way.

And I've learned that when I'm in full-on bitch mode, I take it out on the people I love the most in this world.

And I've finally learned that temporarily removing myself mentally and emotionally (if not physically) is the best gift I can give to those who love me.

But yesterday I realized that there's more to it than just coping.

You see, I have a good life. I'm abundantly blessed. I'm married to my best friend. My kids are bright and creative and healthy. I'm healthy. And at times I'm pretty certain I have a fair amount of intelligence behind these big brown eyes. So there's really no reason to go full-on with the bitchy.

And I've made some decision about that. I've made some decisions about me.

I've dawned to the realization that it doesn't matter what impression I leave on people. What really matters is the perception I have regarding me.

Full-on bitch mode is nothing more than stress over trying to be perfect.

Because I'm not, you see. So it's an unattainable goal.

But that doesn't mean I'm not valuable. That doesn't mean I don't have opportunities to be someone's angel, someone's therapist, someone's shoulder, someone's savior, someone's friend, someone's ride to school, and permission-note-signer extraordinaire.

And it's the realization that I'm so much more than just what I feel that brings me to a place of humility that has nothing to do with shame.

I was right. There's always a tomorrow. And yesterday's tomorrow taught me a very important lesson about tomorrow's today.

This is Funky, and that is all.

So You Had a Bad Day

2006-08-07T18:04:00.000-09:00

No visits tonight, sorry. I'm feeling a little bit stressed out.

Today was funky, but not in a good way. It literally started at 12 a.m. this morning. That's what time the clock said it was when I realized that I was not falling asleep. I was forced to take a half-dosage of a sleep aide in order to get the few hours I did manage.

The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. I figure the pill took at least 30 minutes to kick in. I took it at 12:30 a.m. You do the math. I'm too tired for addition -- or subtraction. Or whatever.

So the day was major autopilot until I got home. The kids had their first day of school today. I should have seen it coming. WHY THE FUCK DO SCHOOL ADMINISTRATORS GIVE THE PARENTS HOMEWORK? I spent over an hour filling out forms and answering questions. Some of those forms were in quadruplicate. Yes, that's now a word, thanks to my kids' school.

Then there were the additional supply lists. Not that I get mad about pitching in. Lord knows those school budgets are never allocated to the actual teachers or kids. But for fuck sake! I spent over $200.00 yesterday on supplies, and racked up another $50.00 this evening for "additional" supplies. I haven't even gotten to the "wants" list. I only bought for two kids!

Then the struggle to put my oldest to bed. Oh man -- I was really hoping some things had changed, but that child is still testing her limits. Give me strength.

So, I have had only fifteen minutes to myself all day, and this is how I spent it.

Beats the hell out of stripping naked and running through the neighborhood, screaming at the top of my lungs... from a legal stance anyhow.

I know there's always a tomorrow... but if it's anything like today...

This is Funky, and that is all.

Clarification -- Nick Cage and My Sex-less Existance

2006-08-06T00:44:00.000-09:00

I'm supposed to be heading for bed, but I just got done driving CadiBug and her friends to their various and assorteds, so I'm not quite ready to give up the ghost. I'm actually more in the mood to chat with you fine folks. So I thought I'd clarify a few things from last week's posts.

Let's talk about my sexless existance for starters, since that's the reason for the Nick Cage dream.

Bottom line, LoveBug and I have a very healthy sex life. For that matter, we have a great relationship in total. There's no issue to pin anything on. Our lack of ugly bumping is most likely due to circumstances beyond our control. For one, we've both been on the road a lot over the last few weeks. I was out of town one weekend, and the next weekend we were visiting relatives. We have this... oh, call it a RULE about not doing the naked tango in our nephew's bed. Since returning from our trips and such, it's sort of been one thing after another. My Aunt Flo, his head cold, etc... So it's not as if I'm neglected or anything of that sort. Additionally, were I so inclined, I do own an arsenal of electronics and plenty of batteries.

So in short, my sexless existance is something that hadn't occurred to me until I woke up the other morning all hot and bothered from my sex dream with Nick.

Now we move on to Nick.

Yes, I find him appealing, but it's not like he's even on The List. The List is something LoveBug and I cooked up over a night of drinking. We each have three people that we mutually agree can be openly lusted over without repercussion. Since you only get three people, I've had to choose them carefully. Occassionally I have to bump one off. For instance, Antonio Banderas was on my list for a long time. But once he hooked up with Melanie Griffith, I had to bump him. In reality, there's no way I'd do him now. He's tainted. The list is occassionally revised. It stands as follows:

(1) John Mayer

(2) John Cusack

(3) Angelina Jolie

So Nick isn't even close to making the list. In fact the runner up, should anyone get bumped by bumping with Paris Hilton, is Dr. McDreamy.

Why Nick was the one I got messy with is beyond me. I haven't seen any of his movies lately, nor do I find him particular attractive in the trailor for the new 9/11 movie. Honestly, what's up with that Village People mustache of his?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Screwing With the Stars

2006-08-03T17:25:00.000-09:00

I haven't had sex in so long I am now dreaming of having sex with celebrities. This morning I woke up in the middle of some hot, sweaty make-out session with Nick Cage.

So needless to say, the day went downhill from there.

And I have nothing left to say about that. Or, anything else for that matter. Honestly, the Nick Cage dream was the highlight of my day.

This is Funky, and that is all.

The Saddle is Near

2006-08-02T17:55:00.000-09:00

And I'm almost back in it, Kids! Posting three days IN A ROW for fuck sake! In another week maybe I can actually find time to visit my favorite friends! Boy Howdy.

So anyhow, the a/c is officially dead... sort of. Well, we can keep it at 78 degrees if LoveBug shopvacs the bitch out daily. They'll bring the new one NEXT THURSDAY to the tune of $2200.00. Then we can repair the roof. Then we can replace the carpet that got flooded in CuddleBug's bedroom. Then we can take what's left from tomorrow's bank robbery and sip sissy drinks on a beach in Mexico.

And yes, for the record, CadiBug IS still bitching about melting melting melting. Wicked witch indeed.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Ah, the Joys of Home Ownership

2006-08-01T17:25:00.000-09:00

Last night we're sitting in the living room and CuddleBug notices the floor is wet. Really, REALLY wet. Not, "Winnie pee'd on the floor" wet. Something more. Something bad. We looked up at the ceiling and the tell-tale signs were all there. Water spots. Shit.

LoveBug drug the ladder in from the garage and removed the a/c vent. Then he boogied to Home Depot for a shop vac. Seven gallons of water were removed from the ceiling and we thought all was well.

I just got home a few minutes ago and it looks as if Lake Funky Bug is now a reality in my living room. With the a/c damned near off (as much as it can be in Florida) we have a constant drip that has knocked plaster off the ceiling.

LoveBug is beyond frustrated. He's driving back from Boca tonight so he can tackle this issue, seeing as the repair guy he contacted this morning hasn't seen fit to return our calls.

CadiBug is bitching because I won't check us in at a HoJo's. It's 79 degrees in the house right now, and she is certain in an hour we will be suffering an inferno because I've shut the a/c off for the night. Never mind that it's 10:24 p.m. Never mind all that. She is a teenager, and she is suffering from certain heat exhaustion.

I'm wearing boxers and a paper-thin tank top. It's like Survivor, except that I'm still fat like Richard Hatch.

I remember when I was the one that Ma called to program the VCR. Now I don't even know how to vaccuum water from the ceiling.

I miss having a superintendant and maintenance man. Sure, he was pervert and a con artist, but at least he fixed stuff between smelling panties from the hamper.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Evaluating the Three-Dimensional World

2006-07-31T07:39:00.000-09:00

I've spent a great deal of time of the road this month. A few weeks ago I drove to Indiana to fetch my young'uns and visit with my old crew. I spent the first evening running the town with my friend Jo. When I pulled up in front of her house and she threw open the door, years of being miles apart faded instantly. She had the same smile, the same laugh, and was (with a few self-improvements) the same girl I love with my whole heart. We quickly played catch-up and began tossing back the drinks (Mich Ultra for me, Jim Beam and Coke for her). Three a.m. came up so fast I still don't know what hit me. I hugged her for all I was worth and left.

I woke up Sunday morning and drove through my sleep hometown looking for a decent cup of coffee. Some things never change it seems, as the only brew to be found was at a 7-11. Sunday afternoon I was able to catch exactly 90 minutes with another dear friend before I was forced back on the road to Florida.

Yesterday I returned from a shorter drive to the mountains to see my husband's family. Marrying into this family is very much like hitting the lottery. There was, of course, much wine flowing over the course of the weekend, with the intermittant martini thrown in for good measure. There was more laughter, lots of ribbing, and even some "serious" talk when the opportunity arose.

This morning I woke in my own bed, surrounded by all the people in my immediate family that I love and cherish. The coffee was sitting on the bed stand beside me, a habit my husband took on early in our courtship. I threw some laundry in the wash and started the process of returning to reality. As the fog lifted and the day broke through my brain, I came to the conclusion that my reality is missing something very important: Friends who don't live halfway across the country.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Whirlwind

2006-07-23T07:12:00.000-09:00

Doesn't even begin to describe life since the kids got home. I'll hopefully be able to start posting again soon. I just wanted to say hi!
This is Funky, and that is all.

For Cyberia Residents Only - Updated

2006-07-19T08:02:00.000-09:00

This post is pinned to the top. For updates, scroll down.

Please let me know via comment if you're still interested in having your character updated. After a long hiatus from the Sims Blog Adventures in Cyberia, I am playing again!

I've heard from some of you, and I've made a couple updates to story lines. I'll get to the rest of you soon!

The REST rest of you, read on below ;)
This is Funky, and that is all.

Red, Red Wine

2006-07-11T19:21:00.000-09:00

LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!

Whoa... would ya look at the time? It's like... well, it's past my bedtime. But I promised myself I would relax and enjoy this lovely glass of Beaujolais before cashing in this day. (No, it's NOT Nouveau. What kind of wine snob do you think I am?)

So I'm listening to Lucy Woodward, and I'm listening to Saving Jane, and some of the others that were recommended to me. By the way... if you got the hint and picked up on the theme of WOMEN vocalist who were basically treated like shit all through high school and into early adulthood, AND still occassionally hurt like hell remembering... AND still get their panties in a wad because they're forced to get along in a world that perpetuates the traditions of cliques and status, DING DING DING you win the prize. Yes, that's what I'm going for. That's what I need to be hearing right now.

So I thought it would be lovely to check in with you fine kids and let you know where I'll be until I'm back in the saddle again.

Basically, for the rest of this week, I'll have my head shoved firmly up my ass. I'm doing my damnest to get the house in order before I get in my car and drive all fuck to Indiana to pick up my kids. It's like this: get in the car, drive for a fucking millenia, pick up the kids, and drive the fuck back. For all the fucking, you'd think it's a joy ride, but it's not. Between now and next week, I'm either cleaning, or driving. Oh for joy.

Occassionally you may find me at Cyberia, for those of you who have characters. The rest of you will just have to catch me on the flip side of next week.

Shit. Glass is empty. Say goodnight, Gracie.

This is Funky, and that is all.

I'm a Bad Blogger

2006-07-08T09:15:00.000-09:00

But I'm okay with that...mostly.

When I started blogging I did it to keep in touch with friends and family. I did it to write. Then I started getting comments.

Suddenly I wanted to be a blog star. It was all about the comments. It was all about finding new bloggy friends.

Then the roof caved in. I had to reach out and get my real life back.

Now I'm addicted to television, which is far more healthy, don't you think?

But I never shut down the blog because I still want to keep in touch with friends and family. And I still want to write.

So I'm really sorry if I don't visit those of you who still comment. I mean, sometimes I do, but not often. And not because I don't care. Mostly because I just don't sit in front of my computer for hours at a time. I've lost the desire to be a mouse potato.

This blog will remain, for me, for those of you who are friends and family and want to see what's going on in my life, whenever something is going on that is. If you need to stop coming around, it won't hurt my feelings. I'm a big girl now, and I know how the blogosphere works.

****END OF DISCLAIMER****

So what's going on right now? I'm trying to relish my last weekend sans responsibiliy. I'm heading out next weekend to fetch my kids from their dad's house. Very soon I will put my chauffer cap back on, open up the personal ATM I call my purse, and frantically search for last minute school supplies at 11:00pm at night. I will put on my referee jersey and break up fights. But I'll also giggle over a great South Park episode, and I'll discover new music as it floats out the crack under a bedroom door. I'll see more smiles, take more pictures, and the house won't feel quite as big as it does now.

Speaking of music and fetching babies, I'm getting ready to make a very very very long drive next weekend, so I'm searching for new music. I've discovered the following:

Holly Brook
Saving Jane
Imogen Heap
The Veronicas
Lucy Woodward
Chantal Kreviazuk
Antigone Rising

Now look over the list carefully and tell me, noticing a strange pattern, what else I should know about before I hit the road. Hit me with all your suggestions, keeping in mind that Saving Jane is now my anthem band. Keep in mind that I believe Paula Cole knows what it's like to be me. Keep in mind that Jessica Simpson makes my ears bleed. Keep in mind that I don't care to hear how happy a man is when he finds a sexy woman to love. Whatever.

This is Funky, and that is all.

We Interrupt This Vacation Recap...

2006-06-28T17:36:00.000-09:00

... to Bring You a Live Update

Hi guys.

I've been functioning on auto pilot for so long that I've almost forgotten how to do this.

But tonight I just want to talk.

I want to talk about what's really going on over here in the Funkydome. (Did I ever tell you it's a "me"ocracy, and I'm the President?)

Some stuff is the same. I'm still working the same job... the one I really really thought I wanted... that professional work atmosphere that would make me feel productive and valuable in the workplace. What a joke. It's not a horrible job by any means. It's not a hectic job, or a stressful job, or even a dirty job that somebody's got to do. Rather, it's a mindless button-pushing job that numbs my brain. Some days (or eras) that's a good thing. It's nice to arrive in the morning, push buttons, then go home at the end of the day. It's nice some days to just be there, then be gone. But as far as the big-picture thing goes, it's not exactly my life's ambition. Be that as it may, my boss is very liberal with vacation time, sick days, and days for taking care of personal (read "kids") things. So I am still there, and will most likely remain there until the Grown-up Fairie sprinkles What-I-Want-to-Be dust on my pillow while I sleep.

Speaking of vacation days, I was taking a smoke-break with my work buddy today, and I told her how I longed to just get the hell out of town for a few days. I told her I kind of wanted to drive over to Orlando and spend the weekend by the pool... maybe catch some dinner theater or some such fun. While my eyes were still sparkling she was sharpening the pin she uses to burst my bubble. "Good luck finding a hotel room on the July 4 weekend!" I tossed my shrivelled bubble on the concrete and went back to button pushing. Four hours later LoveBug called and said, "How would you like to get the hell out of Dodge for the weekend? My baby needs a vacation, and I'm ready to whisk you away." So cool. So we're heading over to Ft. Laud for the weekend to check out a new Wine Bar and grab dinner at one of our favorite haunts. Can't help lovin' that man o' mine.

Speaking of dinner (I know, it's like I bought Segways for Dummies or something), I'm STILL on Nutri-system! Can you believe it?!? I survived the Floating Buffet, dropped the slight weight gain from said cruise ship in about a week, and I'm still losing. In fact, I'm knocking on the 40-lb mark... 35.6 lbs to be exact. I'm sort of fudging around with the program right now, and it's actually working really well. In essence, I stick to only Nutri-system entrees during the week, plus my fruits and veggies, but I don't eat EVERYTHING I'm supposed to. I might consume MAYBE 800 calories in a day. Then on the weekends I just eat whatever I want for dinner, but ONLY A BIT. Now, the caveat is, "whatever I want" has changed a lot. I no longer want the same stuff I used to. Certain foods just make me sick (like heavy sauces, all red meat, and most sugary-sweet desserts). Since experimenting with this new way of eating, I've started losing a steady 2lbs/week. So yeah, go me.

Speaking of go me (okay, ran out of segways), CadiBug is coming home. I'm not sure how much to say about that. I'm glad she loves me. I'm glad she loves her daddy. I'm glad to be able to be with her as she grows into a young lady. Hopefully we've both learned some very important lessons about communication, respect, and responsibility. If not, at least I know that I won't die if we decide she needs to leave again. If nothing else, you guys might want to consider buying stock in Southwest Airlines.

Speaking of... ah, forget it. That's a wrap, Kids. I'm going to grab a glass of this fabulous white wine I found (it's called Nora... try it) and curl up with a good book. I'll catch you all on the flipside of the weekend.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Vacation Recap -- Part Two

2006-06-26T23:10:00.000-09:00

Sorry for the delay -- still trying to get back into the swing of things. That's a post in and of itself, but I'm going to finish my recap so I can relive my vacation whilst avoiding reality.

Our next port of call was Belize. We booked a day excursion to the rain forest to do a zip line and some cave tubing. There are some other things I want to say about Belize, but I'll hold off on that for the time being.

I forgot to mention that during our trek through the Mayan ruins in Cozumel, I managed to get injured. Walking along a very cleared stone path, I found the only downed tree limb left in Cozumel, and scratched/bruised the hell out of my right leg. I preface with this because I want you to see the humor in this thing I call a vacation.

Zip lining is that crazy-assed thing you do where you hike up to the top of a rainforest, then hook yourself up to some cables and zip through the top of the canopy. The "zip" is a series of platforms atop the trees. You zip along a cable, one to the other, very fast. Being terrified of heights, I have no idea why I thought this would be a good idea. Add to that the fact that I appeared to be cursed with a temporary spell of accident prone-ness, and you have a recipe for disaster.

So we trek through some mud until we've reached the first platform. I'm wearing something akin to a canvas diaper, and it feels both comforting and constricting. The canopy guide dude immediately locks me to the tree by one of three hooks. Then he locks me me onto a cable with some more pulleys and hooks. My fate is sealed. There's no turning back. I'm told that I can go into this night gently, or with a push. I hold my breath and step off the platform.

Atop the canopy, I found myself zipping out of control. As I neared the second platform I saw my guide giving me the signal to "break!break!" so I did. Now, you're supposed to break by using your gloved hand on the cable to slow your speed. I did the "break" in the same manner as I would break my car to avoid a collision. Right foot first, right into the platform. It worked, but I bruised the arch of my foot so severely that I limped for several hours afteward.

As nervous as heights make me, I was surprised at how thouroughly I enjoyed this activity. My only moment of sheer panic was atop the highest platform. I noticed it was SWAYING. It wasn't just vibrating, but rocking with the wind. My son, being the jackass that he is, kept standing on the edge of the platform, pretending to loose his balance. Nevermind the fact that we were all harnessed to a safety cable -- I almost broke into tears as I begged him to hug the fucking tree. That being said, once the kids realized I was NOT in the mood for their antics, they settled into the activity and we had a great experience.

Following the zip line, we took a two-mile hike through the rain forest to the first cave. I was mostly trying not to cry because my foot was killing me, AND because the tour guide said, "Look a tarantula!" but once we hopped in our tubes and started going through the cave, all fear and anxiety left me. I wish I had pictures to show you, but I didn't take my camera for obvious reasons. However, the interior of that cave was simply stunning. There was a point where the daylight broke through the cave and trees were growing in it's path -- well, I remarked out loud that I had found heaven. When I said I never wanted to leave, I meant it.

After the tubing portion of our excursion we had a wonderful lunch with some new friends and then noticed we were running "a bit behind schedule." Since we didn't book this tour through our boat, that meant we were in "a bit" of danger of missing our fucking boat. The tour driver raced through Belize at lightening speed. It was a bit of an adventure to say the least, but at least I forgot about the throbbing pain in my foot for awhile. We made the boat with a few minutes to spare. My husband left his water shoes in Belize. I left a piece of my heart. More on that later.

This is Funky, and that is all.

It's Recap Time -- Part One

2006-06-17T09:23:00.000-09:00

Photo Heavy Post Below!!! If you wish, click on them to see a larger version

Seeing as I've been a Blog Bum for the last few weeks, I figured that while I had several cups of coffee going on a Saturday afternoon, this would be as good a time as any to play catch up. I apologize in advance for what I assume is going to be the longest post ever.

My vacation actually began a day ahead of time. I drove to work Thursday morning as usual, but while walking to the office I ran across a strange woman screaming "The courthouse is on fire! It's on fire! No court today! Fire. Fire." She was like a strange Beavis and Butthead charactature. I called into the office and my co-worker giggle. "No, it's not on FIRE, it's out of POWER. But come on up. We're roasting marshmellows and telling ghost stories." So I went into the office and goofed off with my co-workers for an hour until the Duty Judge finally told us to go home while maintenance worked on restoring the power. Day off, with pay. My vacation officially begins.

After taking the rest of Thursday and the better part of Friday to properly prepare for vacation, LoveBug, CuddleBug, Lightening Bug and I finally headed out. We spent the night at a hotel near our docking port. Nothing to tell here. I guess I could have left this paragraph out.

Saturday we caught the shuttle to our ship and were on the Glory before noon. Here are the first shots from our cruise.

At this point, I think it's best to break the recap into catagories as opposed to days.

Ports of Call
Our first port of call was Cozumel. My husband had the brilliant idea to rent a Jeep for the day. We drove around the entire island with the top down. It was probably the most glorious experience imaginable. We stopped once along the way to capture the most honest roadsign ever.
This shot I had to catch on the fly.

We found the coolest restaurant (or whatever you call it in Mexico) called Coconuts, and parked the Jeep. Coconuts is perched on I guess what you'd call a cliff. Whatever you call it, it's the highest point in Cozumel, so the view was breathtaking.

The staff at Coconuts are awesome! They don't ever treat you like a pain-in-the ass tourist. They're happy to see you! The bring cold beer, strong margharitas, fresh chips and salsa, and even joke with the kids. They were hit hard by Hurricane Emily, actually losing their entire building. The bartender showed us a photo album of the damage which contained shots of them working to rebuild. Among the very few things that Emily left behind, this mannaquine was recovered. She was renamed and stands propped against a tree just outside the bar hut.

The interior of Coconuts is decorated with t-shirts and other garments left by tourists. I also had to take a few shots of my favorite memorabelia from Coconuts.

After lunch we drove to an excavation sight to view some Mayan Ruins. The kids always hate this shit, so we made it quick. I was most likely about 200 degrees at this point. I did stop to shoot a few ruins.

This is a closeup of the Temple of the Red Hands. No one knows why there are red, child-size handprints on the wall, but it's eerie and beautiful.

We spent a bit of time in downtown Cozumel too. As you can see, Emily and Wilma really f-cked them up, but the shops and bars are rebuilt. *grin*

LoveBug bought me a gorgeous pair of Tanzenite earrings (feeding the damaged economy, doncha know?) and the kids and I got henna tattoos. Sorry -- I was too drunk at this point to remember to take a picture of them, but there were cool as hell. After a full day in the sun, we were ready to get back on our boat.

Funny how time offers a perspective after the fact. I'd give just about anything to be back there right now.

Next post: Belize (sans photos)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Someone PLEASE Flip the Switch

2006-06-14T17:22:00.000-09:00

I have zero energy, Kids. That's "zero" in the spirit of nada, zip, zilch.

And telling my tales takes so much more than I have right now.

So I'll just share a photo, and try again tomorrow.

This is my fifteen year old (step)daughter (whatever with the preface, she's my kid, alright?) the day BEFORE her fifteenth birthday. Rockin' beauty, isn't she? Since you're so patient with me, here are a few more shot of my darlings.

No, I didn't let him drink it. That's MY beer, thank you very much. But someone has to hold the alcohol while Mommy balances the camera. Sheesh.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Yep, I'm Back... and Recovering

2006-06-12T23:51:00.000-09:00

I'm not fully recovered though, emotionally, mentally, soberly, or physically.

Here's a photo from the trip. (You can click on these for the larger image if you really want to be grossed out.)

And another one.

Yes, that's my arm. Sometimes a horse does what you tell it to. Sometimes you tell a horse to run faster. Sometimes the horse is secretly named Gringo Killer and doesn't much care for the weight of said Gringo on his back. Sometimes the dirt in Mexico doesn't feel so good when you fly into it at 20 mph.

More tales to follow. Right after this important message.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Bon Voyage

2006-06-01T18:23:00.000-09:00

This is it, Kids. I'm heading out to sea this weekend! The fam (minus one) and I are leaving tomorrow afternoon to be closer to our port, and we set sail on Saturday. My wardrobe is complete, my hair and nails done, and my sailing goal weight achieved... I will be wearing my size ten shorts from three summers ago. Boo-ya!
I won't be blogging from the boat, so here's my itinerary.

Saturday: Set sail, drink, eat, piano bar, drink drink drink drink.
Sunday: Hit the gym, grab a drink, sun, drink, sun, drink, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, apply aloe to sunburn, dine, piano bar, drink, drink, drink, casino, drink, drink, drink.
Monday: Belize, zip line, inner tube, drink, drink, apply more aloe, drink, dine, dine, dine.
Tuesday thru.... ah, you get the picture. Between drinks are stops at Costa Maya, Cozumel, and Nassau.

Bon Voyage, Kiddos. I'll see you in a week or so.
CadiBug, I'll miss you more than you can possibly know.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Confessions of an Addict

2006-05-30T17:34:00.000-09:00

I took my Tylenol P.M. again last night, but it didn't work as well the second time around. I tossed and turned until the wee hours, and by morning I was convinced that I had been kidnapped my aliens.

Nope, not kidding. That was my dawning thought. Aliens.

Tell me I'm not in need of a vacation?

Somebody pour me a drink, dammit.

In other news:
My job is stupid, and I think I will put a fork through my eye tomorrow.

This is Funky, and that is all.

New Day Dawning

2006-05-29T06:57:00.000-09:00

I forced myself to sleep last night with the help of a hefty dose of Tylenol P.M. Had I not aided that sweet release, I may very well have been up all night. I have the kind of brain that is wired for solutions. It recalls every word, every action, and every nuance, then divides them into catagories and sorts through them for hidden agendas. After rearranging them like colored dots on a rubix cube, it seeks to find a solution wherein all dots meet up with their kind.

What I've never learned is that some things can't be solved by forcing them. I can't start my Mustang with my husband's Explorer key. Try as I might, a banana will not fit into a ziplock bag. And no matter what I do or say, I cannot make a teenager do what I want her to do.

I'm not sure what my brain did last night under the influece of that sleep aide, but I did wake up this morning with the realization that moving on and giving up mean pretty much just that. And I can't really do one without doing the other. So I listened to Wreck of the Day by Anna Nalick about thirty times while drinking my coffee, looked out the open garage door into the sunlight of a new day, and made a promise to myself that, "If this is giving up, then I'm giving up."

Loving these little people means accepting the fact that they MUST forge their independence from you in order to grow into big people. Nothing I say, nothing I do, nothing I conspire will change the fact that my little person wants to grow up, wants to seek out the next great adventure of life, wants to succeed on her own. And honestly, if she doesn't already know how much I love her, nothing I say or do now will have any consequence other than conflict.

This is my new day. I can sit here and seek out a solution, or I can stop trying to stuff a banana into a zip lock bag and just eat it. It's a lot like food porn, but not really.

In other news:
We leave for our 7-day cruise in just a few short days. Though the docking isn't until Saturday, we're spending the night near the port on Friday and taking the shuttle over to the boat the next day. I managed to shed almost 34 pounds since February 24th, so I'm looking forward to sassing around the boat with my new body and my new clothes. Honest to goodness, I bought just the cutest little outfits. I am SO ready for my close-up!

This is Funky, and that is all.

Today is Laundry Day (Plus Shopping Therapy Synopsis)

2006-05-28T09:03:00.000-09:00

Today is laundry day. I know that sounds horrible, but it's really not.

When I assign a title to a day, that day becomes solely about that thing.

Because today is laundry day, I don't have to do another damned thing all day.
I don't have to drive anyone anywhere.
I don't have to run any errands.
I don't have to go to the gym (although I probably will.)
I don't have to catch up on this, or that, or the other thing.
I just have to do laundry.

The beauty of laundry day is that you work at folding or loading for maybe 15 minutes, then you sit patiently for about an hour.

As much as I (obviously, by the size of the pile of dirty clothing) hate doing laundry, I love laundry day.

In other news:

LoveBug took charge of the boys yesterday and gave me a day to myself. While he chauffered the kids to their various and assorteds, I spent the day alone. Well, "alone" if you don't count all the people at the mall. I took a debit card and some petty cash to the mall with no mention on LoveBug's part to keep any kind of budget, and I shopped. My GOD it was glorious. I didn't have to buy anything for anyone but me. Me, me, me. I got all my clothing for our cruise next weekend, and I even treated myself to a shiny bit from Gordon's Jewelers.
It was simply wonderful, shopping therapy. I guess the sad part was seeing all this stuff that I normally would have bought for my daughter had she been there. She used to be my shopping buddy.

I did shop until I dropped though. I was truly sick and tired of looking through racks of clothing and lugging around those heavy shopping bags. Yeah, sucks to be me, huh? LOL.
This is Funky, and that is all.

All, except for a brief mention of my weight loss. I have now lost 33.6 pounds.

"Oh, Wow"

2006-05-25T19:09:00.000-09:00

I could watch this all night.
Go on, you know you want to!

Look, it's the little distractions that make my current situation tolerable.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm a Claymate. I'm a lusty, middle-aged, freak of nature, and I cannot get enough of his hot new look.

If the hand can't rock the cradle, it robs one.

This is Funky, and that is all.

My husband is sitting behind me singing, "Don't let your son go down on me." Bastard. Jealous bastard.

Momentary Cure for Empty Nest Syndrome

2006-05-24T23:35:00.000-09:00

Hells YEAH, baby... that's what I'm talking about. Scotty, don't you think he totally looks like Stephen N.?

In other news, CadiBug arrived at her dad's today. Cue the *sniff*

This is Funky, and that is all.

A Letter for Cadi

2006-05-23T23:24:00.000-09:00

The worst thing about being a teenager is knowing that your parents have no clue what it's like to be a teenager. Oh sure, they "remember" their own teen years JUST enough to foil all your well-devised schemes, but they don't remember what it FELT like to love and hate your parents all at the same time. If they did, they wouldn't be so bitchy all the time.

The worst thing about being a parent is KNOWING exactly what it felt like when you hated and loved your own parents, and suffering when you see the eyes roll back and the arms fold in defiance. As a parent, you remember your own mistakes and you pray that your kids will not the same ones, never mind the fact that they are YOUR kids, and they didn't get their hormones from themselves.

I guess what I'm trying to say, Cadi, is that I both remember and have forgotten what it was like when I was your age. And as much as I know you, I don't know what it's like to be you. And I'm sorry I kept assuming your were a much younger version of me.

The other sucky thing about being a teenager is that everyone thinks they have to pass along their "wisdom" and advice. Knowing that, please forgive me for the list that follows:

Never let anyone steal your thunder. You were born to shine, Love, and no one deserves to hog your glory.

Also, never lose your joy. The greatest gift you have to offer is your smile and your laughter.

Remember to take your makeup off before you go to bed.

You live in a small town now, Honey. Everyone knows everything about everybody else's business. Don't give them anything to talk about. Make them work for a good rumor. Watch them scurry like chickens after a good rain. There's not much else to do there, so create your stage carefully, and direct each scene.

Remember always that you CAN. There is absolutely nothing you cannot do. You are brilliant and full of charisma. Anyone who fails to see that is simply beneath you. Do not shed one tear over a stupid person. The saline your body produces has a higher IQ than half that town.

Drink organic milk so the growth hormones from cow tits don't find their way into your system.

No boy, no man, is worth losing your self-esteem over. In ten years you won't even remember his last name. Same goes for girls, in case your so inclined.

I promise I won't let Jack eat your guinea pig.

It's perfectly okay to question your faith. Part of communication is asking the right questions. Part of faith is waiting for an answer.

Read books that make you happy. Listen to music that makes you dance. Never stop singing, never stop creating, never ever leave the lens cap on the camera.

Dog's never forget their masters. Winnie will remember you.

Remember that I love you, and that you will always have a home here with me. Cadi's room will always be Cadi's room, and I will always be your Mom. Or your Mommy. Or whatever.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Count Down to Goodbye, Girl

2006-05-22T22:40:00.000-09:00

I was still awake last night/this morning when the coffee pot timer kicked on and started grinding up those beans. I just can't seem to calm myself enough to drift off into sleepy land.

Tonight I will use a sleep aid, because I can't function on auto pilot forever.

Tonight was what you would call a good night. Cadibug and I took a trip to Target to buy her a larger suitcase. We did not ignore the elephant. She talked freely about her reservations and her excitement over this new experience. I remained calm. I realize that I am her foundation. If I get upset, it only makes it harder for her to do what she needs to do. I told her I love her to death, I'll miss her like crazy, and I'll send her ProActive and BareMinerals any time she runs low. She said she'll set up my iPod for me before she leaves on Wednesday. She kissed my cheek without being asked to.

And it dawned on me that her leaving is NOT a rejection of me as a parent. Fact of the matter is, she has two parents that she loves very much. She didn't chose to move to Florida four years ago. I didn't give her a choice, and now the greatest thing I can do -- the last thing I can do for her for awhile -- is to give her choice my blessing. Yes, dammit, it's really hard. Yes, dammit, she's my baby girl. Yes, dammit, I'll cry some more at a later time. But I love that kid with all my heart, and if this is what she needs, then who am I to load her down with my emotions?

Now, maybe tomorrow when I put her to bed for the last time (for maybe a very long time) I will cry. But first I will hug her, kiss her little forehead goodnight, and softly close her door. THEN I will take a glass of wine and my cigarettes to the gazebo, and THEN I will quietly cry.

And then...in time, I will rejoice in her victories. And then...in time, I will hold her very close and thank God for bringing her back to me.

This is Funky, and that is all.

And Then Come the Sleepless Nights

2006-05-22T12:45:00.000-09:00

I used to never post twice in one day. If I had something I was dying to say, I'd go ahead and type it up, then save it for a day in the future when I had nothing at all to add to the blogosphere.

That was before I reclaimed my space (not My Space, though.)

So now I write when I want, and I write for no audience save the crowd of people running around in my brain.

And it's okay if you de-link me, or stop coming by.

Because I'm almost certifiable now, and the last thing I need is an audience.

Last night LoveBug took me out. Actually, he took me out Friday night too, while the kids were doing their various and assorteds. But last night CadiBug decided it was time to say good-bye to her friends. Having another free evening with nothing to do but mope, it seemed better to go blow off some steam. We had a wonderful dinner, then we played pool -- we play badly, but it's always so much fun to see which one of us sucks the least. For the record, I won two out of five games. Yeah... I suck more.

I had a couple beers, which may seem light, but since I don't drink much these days, one is just enough to get the buzz on. We came home after picking up the kids from their various and assorteds, and then participated in some extracurricular activities behind locked doors.

You'd think I would have been good and ready for some serious slumber, but for the third night in a row, I layed awake and stared at the ceiling.

So tonight I decided to beat the insomnia by NOT EVEN TRYING to sleep. So there. Hmpfh.

And I've got some things on my mind, flying through my fingers.

1. You think this is a safe place? You're wrong. Through no fault of your own, just by being YOU, you can be despised to the point of being harmed. Take every threat seriously. Never post too much information about who you are and where you live/work/play, etc... Playing nice does not mean that others will play fair. You think I'm kidding? Not even close. This Internet is a scary place, my friends. You might be going along, minding your own business, expressing your thoughts and releasing your creativity... and BAM, you're facing unemployment. Ask Dooce. Ask Scotty. Go Google your name and see where it leads. Check the links in your profile. How about the IM information for Yahoo, MSN, AOL, etc...? I was IMing with a bloggy friend a few months ago, and at my urging she started searching out information on me. Within ten minutes, using a database she had from an old job, she knew my social security number, the phone number and address for my husband's business, my home address and phone number... and she stopped once she told me what my husband's middle name is. Listen, I'm serious. We're not all friends here, kids. We're not all honest, or kind, or moral. You can't keep people from hating you. You can protect yourself from their wrath.

2. When your daughter does a Meme on her My Space and next to "Your Mother" she answers, "immature", what exactly does that MEAN? Because it sounds like an insult! It sounds like she's mocking me for crying, or for "over reacting" to her mishaps. Is it just a kid being a know it all? WTF does that mean?!?

3. If you pull into the driveway just in time to see your son sailing off the roof on his skateboard and landing on his ass, how exactly do you punish him while laughing your own ass off? Later, when he complains that his tailbone hurts, do you give him some sympathy, or some Tylenol? Do you then make a list of everything he's not supposed to do, just in case he doesn't reason like a normal human being?

4. If you are so stressed out that you can only force yourself to consume about 400 calories a day, while burning off approximately 300 calories per day at the gym, does it make any sense at all that in a week's time you would only lose 2/10 of a pound? Yeah, I didn't think so either, but what the hell!!!

5. If your stepdaughter suddenly grows boobs that rival those of any South Beach milf, is it stepping over the line to take her out and buy her a better bra than her mom buys her? Isn't it every woman's right to rest their puppies in something supportive and flattering? Why does Walmart even SELL bras? Is it a joke? A conspiracy? A mockery of middle America?

6. If your husband is lying in bed, warm and naked, and sleeping soundly, shouldn't that be enough incentive to make you rest your head beneath his collar bone and try to meet the sleepy side of reality?

Number six is the only one that makes sense right now. I'll let you know how that all works out.

This is Funky, and that is all.

No (Wo)Man is an Island

2006-05-21T17:22:00.000-09:00

I thought maybe it would be good to check in and thank everyone for their words of peace and experience regarding my daughter's impending departure. I cannot find the words to express the comfort and hope you have administered. Hearing "I was her" or "I've been in your shoes" coupled with "It all turned out okay in the end" have given rest to my weary psychie.

I listened, I breathed, I exhaled, and I found solice in everything you've offered in the way of support.

And I know it's going to be okay.

Yesterday I took her to Winter Park and we walked our stupid dog for a few hours. We window shopped, enjoyed a lovely cafe lunch, and communicated about nothing in particular. We ignored the elephant in the room, and we focused on the beautiful weather, our stupid dog's phobia of bicycles, and the finer skills involved in manuevering Orlando traffic on I4. It was a very good day.

Today... not so much. Again, by simply requesting that she clean her room, another war was waged. But I was strong, issued my request as firmly as my fainting heart could do, and left for my Tai Chi class.

During the relaxation portion of my class, the instructor told me to relax the muscles around my heart. The voice inside me whispered "I can't. That's all that's holding the broken pieces together." I fought back tears, and another voice within me said, "Try." So I did. I relaxed the muscles in my heart, and guess what? It's not broken after all. It kept beating and the blood kept flowing. Breathing in, breathing out, I rested the muscles furrowing my brow, I put a slight smile on my face, and I let the weight of all my worries sink into the floor beneath me. And I did not die.

When I got home, her room was clean, her bags were packed, and her wrath was put away.

And yes, I do think everything is going to be okay. It's just that we both need some time apart so we can both of us grow up. We both need time to trust our broken hearts to keep us going. We both need space to sink so that we know hitting the floor is not the worst thing that can happen to a person.

So again, thank you.

This is Funky, and that is all.

If You Love Someone...

2006-05-18T19:41:00.000-09:00

The rest of that phrase urges you to let go. If you love someone, let them go. If they come back to you, it was meant to be. If they don't... well, I don't even want to think about it.

Last night my beautiful daughter and I came to blows. This past year has strained our relationship to the point of breaking. Since she's been on "lock down" as she calls it, we have been the most bitter of enemies. Every conversation begins and ends with a fight. She gets in trouble, I ground her, all hell breaks loose. I'm literally losing weight because I don't have the energy to eat...because I "punish" myself by going to the gym and lifting weights until every muscle in my body is burning from the build up of lactic acid. I haven't lifted a finger around the house in over a month. She does nothing but sulk and devise ways to self destruct. Last night, enough was enough.

I gave her a choice. Yes, I did. I asked her if she wanted to continue to live with me, follow my rules, and maintain the necessary requirements for doing so: respect and responsibility.

She chose her dad.

In six days I will put her on a plane and let her go. In six days she will pack as much as she can into two suitcases and start a new life in her old hometown.

There is a part of me that feels like I should fight for her, beg her to stay, or tell her she doesn't have the choice.

There is also a part of me that is so fucking tired of battling my first born every single day.

In the end, I told her to go and go with my love and blessing. She says she needs a fresh start. She says she misses her dad. I know that both are true.

I just can't imagine losing her now -- now while she's starting high school and growing into the woman I know she will become.

But if I hold her here, I'll lose her forever.

So my heart is very heavy...broken in fact. But if you love something, you let it go. Even if it tears you apart.

I know without a doubt, from this day forward, I will never, ever be the same.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Idol Chatter

2006-05-16T22:03:00.000-09:00

Three Disclaimers:

(1) I'm an American Idol Junkie
(2) I've been a Kat fan from day 1
(3) I think I know everything

Elliot Yamin

"Open Arms"
Clive picked a fabulous song for Elliot to sing. Elliot sang it beautifully, but for two problems. First, he seriously needs to contain that vibrato. There are places it works, and places it doesn't. "Open Arms" does NOT need vibrato. Two, how come Elliot can forget the words to the chorus and NOT get ripped the way Kat was ripped last week? Hmmm???

"What You Won't Do For Love"
Paula did right by choosing a Bobby Caldwell song, but mostly she did right by ME because Bobby Caldwell is a god in my book. Elliot relaxed and performed it really well, but due to the over-zealousness of the orchestra, he was overpowered and the performance came off a bit dull. Randy saying he was sharp most of the song proves that Randy Jackson is going deaf.

"I Believe"
At least I think that was the title. I got distracted. Actually, I was bored. BUT once again, the orchestra drowned him out. It's not the song he should have ended with.

My overall on Elliot: I was never a huge Elliot Yamin fan. In the beginning he seemed just another Stevie Wonder wannabe. Then he grew a bit and started impressing the HELL out of me. I pegged him for the top four, but assumed he would go before Chris. He has continued to surprise me throughout the competition. I think he needed a stronger performance tonight.

Taylor Hicks

"Dancing in the Dark"
I have loved Taylor from auditions -- I have. He was my favorite male from the get-go. Every week he has consistently brought it. "It" being the thing about him that his fans love and his foes loathe. Be that as it may, this performance was by far his worst. He looked awkward, almost frightened, and his energy was low. The dance with Paula made my skin crawl.

"You Are So Beautiful"
Randy does something right. This song is perfect for showcasing the flavor of Taylor's voice. I loved it, though the "to me" came out weird each time. It wasn't as strong as "In the Ghetto" but it was kick-ass.

"Try a Little Tenderness"
Unlike every other contestant, Taylor knows how to pick a song. He also knows how to deliver to his fans. Yes, he was vocally rough tonight, but he turned it out -- turned it up even.

My Overall on Taylor: Again, I've been a fan forever, and I always expected Taylor to make it to the top three, but not the top two. He's not the best vocalist, but he is the best entertainer. Like it or not, that's important.

Katharine McPhee

"I Believe I Can Fly"
Clive, what the fuck? Why would you have her sing an R.Kelly song? It makes everyone think of pedophiles. Seriously. I think she was set up. However, I thought she did okay with the song, though she could have used a WAY bigger ending. She looked awkward and uncomfortable with the song. She didn't deserve the ass-munching she got from Randy and Paula.

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow"
This song choice confirms that Simon loves Kat. He did her right! A cappella, sitting down no less, and still incredible. I usually scream at the top of my lungs anytime anyone sings sitting down. If you compress the diapragm, you can't support your breath. She did, and she still sang flawlessly... she lost her ear monitor, and she still kicked ass. Her performance was sublime.

"I Aint Got Nothin' But the Blues"
Anyone who says this girl can't sing is crazy. You may not like her, you may not like her style, but she's got pipes and she showed it. Don't fucking tell me she can't sing. As for Randy and his need to constantly mention she's not Whitney, or Mariah, or (as in tonight) Ella... that's getting on my fucking nerves. "Comparing yourself to Ella... I don't know..." he says. Dude, seriously... every song sung on AI was FIRST SUNG BY SOMEONE FAMOUS. I've never heard them say, "Golly Taylor, stop comparing yourself to Joe Cocker." Grrr.

My Overall on Kat:
Well, I just said it all. I've had her for the top two since day one, but after seeing Chris go last week, I fear the backlash against her will be her downfall. I think she should stay, but she'll probably go. That being said, I've been dialing non-stop for over an hour and have only gotten through twice.

My AI Conspiracy Theory:

Listen to the performances and then the judges. I've noticed more than not... if someone performs "so so" and gets a free pass, it means the judges want them to go home. If someone performs "pretty well" and gets their ass ripped out, it means the judges want them to stay and are INTENTIONALLY trying to stir up that performer's fan base. It's happened week after week. Who do I think got the free pass tonight? Taylor. They were very harsh with Kat, Simon told Elliot he didn't sing his way into the finals, but no one dissed Taylor. Look for a big upset tomorrow.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Holy Orgasm, Batman

2006-05-15T18:18:00.000-09:00

Did you see it?

Did you see the way he LOOKED at her?

I'm speechless. I'm swooning. I need a doctor, stat.

Sweet dreams are made of these.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Sloths of the World, Unite!

2006-05-14T02:34:00.000-09:00

Happy Mom-Can-Do-What-She-Wants Day!

Oh, that's not what it is?

That explains the look on the face of my husband when he reminds me of my Tai Chi class this afternoon. Dammit, man.

So I'll just finish my cup of coffee, have one (or four) more cigarettes, and blog about how much I do NOT want to go to the gym today. I do not want to do the Down Dog. I do not want to lengthen my neck. I do not want to visualize a spot on the wall to keep me from falling on my ass.

I do want to be a sloth and finish my new Chuck Palahniuk book.

So where was I? Oh yes, Mothers' Day. (Is that apostrophe in the right place, Jane?)

Honest as honest can be, I detest holidays... at the least the ones that are supposedly centered around me. I hate them through no fault of the industry. It's not Halmark's fault any more than it's 1-800-Flowers.com's fault. It's so much my fault, with my little princess complex.

As "my special day" approaches, I begin to visualize things like... breakfast in bed, smiling, rosey-cheeked children with flowers and homemade cards... doting husband with his shirt off, glistening still from a freshly-earned, housecleaning induced sweat, bringing me the perfectly prepared cup of steaming hot coffee.

And I wake up at 1:00 in the afternoon because one of my daughter's friends calls to wish me a Happy Mother's Day.

And now my husband is reminding me that I have 30 minutes to get to the gym. Grrrr.

I have that phone call to make as well... that phone call to my mother... that "Hi, Mom, happy you day, yes I know I haven't called or visited for awhile, I'm sorry, how are you, how are things, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU MOVE NEXT DOOR TO MY SISTER INSTEAD OF ME, did you like your flowers, what are you going to do with your special day, YOU TOLD ME YOU'D RATHER KILL YOURSELF THAN MOVE TO FLORIDA, how is your health, are you enjoying the sunshine, THEN YOU MOVED NEXT TO MY SISTER AFTER SHE MOVED TO FLORIDA THREE YEARS LATER, I love you too, yes we should really get together soon, I STILL HAVE REJECTION ISSUES AND YOU OWE ME FOR A SHITLOAD OF THERAPY, I'll talk to you soon."

Shouldn't holidays really be the days between the holidays?

This is Funky, and that is all.

Unless you want an update on my weight-loss. If so, it's exactly 30 lbs today.

It Is What It Is

2006-05-11T18:45:00.000-09:00

Why don't I just give this thing up?

Why not just send you all a lovely farewell message and move along?

Why cling to something that I can't seem to do anymore?

I don't know.

Occassionally the thought comes to me, "Write, Funky. Write."
And when I sit down to do it, I feel overwhelmed... or I feel uninspired... or I feel disinterested.

I read a few blogs now and again, but when it comes time to comment on something I enjoyed, I just cannot find the energy to bring my fingers to the keys and let my words flow.

But I just can't let go, and I don't know why.

But I guess that as long as I need a place to say the stuff in my head, this blog will serve a purpose for me.

And while that is all I have to say about that, I do want to say a few more things.

Chris went home. Deal. Just because you like him, doesn't mean that the others suck. They are all good. Even goat-face.

I'm a liberal, left-leaning, tree-hugging Democrat. I don't care if you are, or if you aren't. But stop sending me conservative, right-leaning, Bible-twisting, Bush-loving, forwards. I mean it. I fucking mean it.

Raising kids is the hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life. I know there are some rewards to reap and shit like that, but right now I just really want to take up the hobby of drinking again. The scariest thing is, if I fuck them up any more, I'll never get rid of them. They will live with me forever and ever and ever and ever.

I do not have time for all the things you want me to do. If you love me, you understand. If you have a problem with that, please take a number and stand in the "fuck off" line. I'll be with you momentarily.

This is Funky, and that is all.

The Calm AFTER the Storm

2006-04-29T05:42:00.000-09:00

You know that feeling you get right before a big storm hits? I know Floridians know what I'm talking about. You run to CVS for batteries. You make sure your cell phone is fully charged. You beat old ladies over the head with your empty wallet for the last case of water on the Publix shelf. You creep out at night to a back alley to buy a generator from a guy named Fingers. You run and you run and you run in hopes that when the storm hits, you're fully prepared for any disaster.

That's been my life for the last three years.

But what about AFTER the storm? Eventually the winds die down. Eventually the A/C comes back on. Eventually you can flush it if it's yellow OR brown. Eventually you gather with neighbors and chainsaws and return your property to a habitable environment.

Then you let out a sigh and do... what? Prepare for the next storm? Take a hot shower? Then what?

That's where I am this morning. What the HELL am I supposed to do now?
I have an entire weekend, and I don't have to write a paper. I don't have to study for a test. I don't have to run to the bookstore to read through a chapter in my textbook uninterrupted.

I don't have a damned thing that has to be done. Therefore, I do NOT know what do to with myself.

It's the weirdest feeling. I was looking forward to being done with school, and now I'm looking forward to enrolling at FSU and working toward my BA... because I'm use to this striving, and I'm not use to this resting.

So I have filled my day with non-essential tasks in order to give myself something to HAVE to do. I'm going to the mall with one of my girls (the other is in a singing competition in NYC this weekend) and we are going on a quest to find the perfect pair of jeans for her, and the perfect shirt for me. We are going to drive way the hell out of our way to sample sushi at a new restaurant. Later this evening, I'm really going out on a limb. I'm going "out with the girls." I'm going dancing or whatever you call it when a bunch of bitchy, overworked, overtired women get together, bitch about their jobs, then hit a bar. I'm not sure what to wear, do, say, or drink. And even though I'm uncomfortable, I'm doing it anyhow.

Final note: I have officially lost just over 25 pounds now. My size ten shorts still don't fit.

Somewhere in my brain is the thought that I should be celebrating my graduation AND my mini-goal. Somewhere in my husband's brain he knows this will lead to a higher AMEX bill this month.

So, off to the mall with me. Have a blessed weekend.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Well, THAT wasn't so bad now, was it?

2006-04-26T17:17:00.000-09:00

One down, one to go. I finished up my Biology final a few hours ago. I know I keep swearing to the heavens that my "virgin 4.0" as one of you put it (cracked me up, by the way) is about to get popped... but I sat down last week and ran some numbers. Because I got a perfect score on the last test (the one I was really sweating), I only needed to score a 60% on the final in order to get an A in the class. So it looks as if my cherry is safe. I'll know on Friday when the professor e-mails me my grade.

Tomorrow I shall be so sad to take my Photography final. I have loved this class more than I can say.

I'm also taking my kids to work with me tomorrow. Since those in the "know" do know where I work, you can imagine this will be quite the eye-opening experience for them. Does the expression "scared straight" ring any bells? Hee hee hee hee hee.

One last thing -- this is for Shephard, who pictures me having coffee with Antonio Banderas.
Thank you from the bottom of my lusty heart. He is the bee's knees, baby. I shall revel in your visualization.

I appreciate you guys who still come by to read my ramblings, even though you know I don't have time to come and read yours. It warms my heart -- truly. But listen, tomorrow is the LAST day of the semester... so you know I'll be back to bothering you again soon, right?

Until then --

This is Funky, and that is all.

Morning Musings

2006-04-25T01:23:00.000-09:00

There's something glorious about the still of morning. I don't know why I don't see it more often that I do. Moving the alarm clock to LoveBug's side of the bed kept me from slamming the snooze button as I normally would. Freshly shaven and ready for his first week back to work, my darling woke me with a gentle kiss and a strong cup of coffee. I fought through the haze of slumber and rose long before I needed to.

We had a cup of coffee together before he hit the road. He is almost giddy. I am almost sad. It's nothing short of miraculous that he is healed in such a short time, of that I am quite thankful. However, I'd gotten rather use to him being here day in and day out. And so it was a bittersweet parting, but one I treated as the norm. Funny how quickly we fall back into the routines of old.

I thought about cracking open my biology textbook and getting in a few more minutes of study time, but the writing muse was standing on my shoulder, screaming for me to give her a voice.

And somewhere in the darkness is a chirping bird. I stood in my backyard with my cup of coffee and listened in awe as the bird worked tirelessly to bring on the day. The sun has yet to offer it's reward, but the bird still sings.

The morning in all its glory will be upon me soon. Even sooner I shall shut down my browser and begin the routine of preparing for the routine of work.

But I'm certain of this; the spirit of that bird and the stillness of this quiet morning have imprinted themselves in my soul. I shall carry both with me as I journey. And if it's at all possible, I wish to pass this gift along to as many as possible.

The muse is at a loss as to how we should accomplish that task. She says, quite possibly we are all muddling through some kind of darkness, some groggy, foggy pre-morning state of mind. She says to tell you that somewhere a bird is singing in spite of the obvious lack of light. She says to tell you to go somewhere and sing until the light shines upon you again.

Then she said, "Oh shit... it's time to get ready for work."

This is Funky, and that is all.

Digging my Way Out -- I Need a Manicure Now

2006-04-22T07:54:00.000-09:00

Hi!

(seems like an opening as good as any)

I finally finished that paper. Here's what I learned:

Don't eat anything. You will die.

Seriously -- food is scary. It's fine if you don't CARE what you put in your body, or don't FEAR the effects of growth hormones and modified starches... but if you DO, too bad. They're not labeling this stuff (not required to) so you just don't get to KNOW what you're eating. Jolly good news for paranoid folks such as I. Stupid paper.

I'm mostly checking in because I'll be checking out again. Finals are this week. Happy Happy Joy Joy. I'll be cramming through Wednesday night, then most likely coming down from that for the rest of the week. No promises to be here or be not here. Just a heads up.

I posted my final photography assignment over at my HNT blog because quite frankly it would look ridiculous on this template's background. Go here to see it. I love it more than twinkies (but not Purple Twinkie).

I'm kind of bummed right now -- I've hit a roadbump (hopefully not a plateau) in my weight loss. I'm still eating right (modified foods and all) and exercising, but I'm stuck at a flat 23 lb weight loss. I'll be hitting the gym in a bit, so let's hope I can push myself a little further and break through this stoppage or whatever the hell it is. I'm trying my damnest to lose about 37 pounds before we go on the cruise the first week of June. Right now I'm about 14 pounds short of that. I'm pretty sure I can't lose 14 pounds in six weeks. I guess I could go back to that whole "stop eating food" theory, but then I'd be dead in six weeks, so it wouldn't really matter.

I feel all chatty -- but that' s because I'm supposed to be studying or working out, neither of which I want to do.

But I will.

So until finals are finally over -- yes, the next time you see me, I'll have my AA... which is not at all like joining AA, or using your AAA card. I'll be grad-ju-mated. And then I'll start bitching about declaring my major for the next leg of my ed-ju-ma-cation journey.

Know what's funner than being me? Being my friend. You poor saps.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Eat Me

2006-04-16T12:09:00.000-09:00

I have to write a paper on genetically engineered foods. I feel it will consume me. Pun intended.

Be back in a few days.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Fairly Well Rested Now, TYVM.

2006-04-15T05:31:00.000-09:00

One of the benefits of working for the gov't is HOLIDAYS off with pay. I took advantage (somewhat) of yesterday's holiday and got some much needed rest. I didn't exactly sleep in -- not in the sense that I slept until I was good and damned ready to rise, but I did set my alarm two hours later. So that was a nice treat.

I met my trainer yesterday. He wasn't entirely evil, but I just don't think he "gets" me. I know these gym-owned trainers have a job to do, and that job is to sell sell sell.

I told him my goal was to hit the gym three times/week for 1/2 hour each time. I realize this is a mini-goal, but it's really important for me to keep it that way because I have to have something that fits into my hectic life. So what does he do? He sets up a program for me to hit the gym four times a week for an hour each time. It was relatively frustrating because the entire session was yack yack yack. I didn't do anything physical outside of a five-minute cardio test and 15 reps of a chest press to guage my muscle resistance. (However, my pecs do hurt a bit this morning, for what it's worth.) He scheduled my second session for Tuesday night to go over the machines. Sigh.

I know that if I COULD hit the gym that often, it would have greater benefits, but I wish he understood that I am trying to make improvements that are within my grasp TODAY. He also recommended I hire him to do private sessions for 8 weeks at $300.00. Yeah. Of course he did.

So anyhow, enough bitching about that. Actually, enough bitching, period.

Today I woke up 23lbs lighter than I did on February 24th.
In just a few moments I'm taking CadiBug and one of her friends to the art museum to see some Warhol exhibits.
Later LoveBug and I will take our cameras out and grab a cup of coffee at our favorite coffee shop. We might even paint some pottery.
Later still, I'll pick up CuddleBug and LighteningBug, and we'll go catch a movie or take a long walk around the lake.

And I suppose tomorrow we'll wrestle all of the kids into their Sunday Best and try to come to some compromise on a house of worship. I'm sure I'll write more about that later.

Have a blessed weekend. Hug everyone. Raise your eyes to the sky, take a deep breath, harness the energy within and without, then exhale. Repeat as necessary until you feel grateful and strong.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Zombie Chronicles

2006-04-13T23:43:00.000-09:00

Oh my god I'm sooooooooooooooooooo tired! Day from hell? Not exactly... but definitely a long damned day.

I got to work and all was going according to plan. Type, smoke, type some more, etc... 'Round 'bout 2pm, a small crisis hit. Apparantly an attorney had ordered a transcript to be completed in 20 days as opposed to the normal 30 days. Whoever received the designation didn't notice, and followed protocol, sticking it on the bottom of the ever-growing pile of appeals and such. The attorney called this afternoon because it's due for her hearing at 9am on Monday morning.

This wouldn't have been a problem if we weren't on holiday Friday.

So I thought long and hard about the fact that I basically had two days off this week, and volunteered to be the team player... meaning I volunteered to come in over the weekend and type.

I left work at 5:30 and went to my photography class. After a very brief panel discussion, he let us go at 7:00. So smart me, I decide that I should go BACK to work and finish the transcript, saving myself the agony of working over a three-day weekend.

No sooner did I pull into the drive, change into my pajamas and hit the couch (at 10:30pm), when CadiBug informed me that her throat was swollen and had been all day. She hadn't eaten, and could we please go get some ice cream or popsicles?

So back in the car to wander this one-horse town in search of a gas station or minimart that would sell us said items.

It's now 11:41 and I've been running since 7am.

Tomorrow I meet my personal trainer... at 9am. Bright and early. I can tell you right now I will hate him no matter what he looks like.

This is Funky, and that is all.

An Unintended Consequence

2006-04-12T10:30:00.000-09:00

When I stepped away from The Bar last month, it was an act of necessity. I knew the time spent blogging and such would be better spent with my family. I intended to spend more time with my family. I didn't intend for my blog to go downhill or anything like that. But guess what? I totally needed it to. What I mean by that is, when I started blogging, I did it to write and stuff like that. Then I got this mad-assed blogger-fame thing going on in my brain. My writing changed to fit my readership. If I wrote something that got LOTS of comments, I wrote more of that. If something got just a FEW comments, I wrote less of that in the future. I went out fishing for comments. I actively pursued a comment count that would top 20/post on a regular basis. When I surpassed that, I tried to scale down, but the counts kept climbing.

So at the time I bowed out for a bit, I was getting at least 30/day... and I felt it was only right to return the visit. So I'd write for awhile, then comment for the better part of each evening.

Tiring, right? Absolutely.

So for the last few weeks that I've stayed away from commenting, I've noticed my counts going back down. This makes me HAPPY! (What? Yes, happy.) You see, what I feel like I'll have when all is said and done, is maybe ten or fifteen good bloggy-friends that I share with on a regular basis, as opposed to a sea of strangers that only came around to get me to comment on their blogs. Ah, Nirvana.

You ten or fifteen are still coming around, and you've noticed that I've been back around to see you as well, haven't you?

The Unintended Consequence: I've left the Blogging for Popularity gig and gotten back to the basics. Damn it feels good to be me.

This is Funky, and that is all.

No, Seriously, God... Where's the Candid Camera?

2006-04-11T22:12:00.000-09:00

So, I took the day off work today to study for my killer test tomorrow. Sounds good, right?

I spent the afternoon in the ER.

CadiBug has fractured the growth plate in her wrist.

Seriously.

And she has a cast. On her right arm. And she's right-handed.

Maybe I should have majored in nursing. Or abnormal psychiatry.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Restocking the Bar

2006-04-10T23:19:00.000-09:00

I've stopped and started a dozen times.

It even feels as if the curser is cursing me. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Do I pick right up where I left off, or offer yet another reason as to why I'm just not blogging anymore?

To be honest, it's too soon to pick right up where I left off. I know in my heart that I just don't have the time right now to be one of those schedule-y bloggers... one of those comment-y bloggers, one of the faithful ones.

The bar will always be open, even if it's sporadic. I just need to take inventory and see what libations are appropriate for the change in seasons.

In the meantime, I think I'll just chat a bit... because while the curser curses, my fingers twitch with a desire to write something.

We'll just call this Bug's Bits.

I've been listening to country music again. As a result, I want to start writing again. (Andy, I haven't forgotten the story. I'll share with you one day soon.) I also want to start singing again. Technically I never stopped singing... I just stopped doing it outside of my car... I also stopped doing it well.

I joined a gym and started working out. I love Tai Chi. I could do it every day for the rest of my life. It hurts like a bitch the next day, though.

I've lost 21 pounds now. I'm starting to feel a might bit sexy. Not all the way though. Especially not naked.

School is royally kicking my ass. I think (and yes, Lu, I mean it this time) I am on the eve of my first "B". Hello "B", goodbye 4.0.

Saturday CadiBug chose to hang out with me rather than hang out with her friends. We took pictures. Then I took pictures of her smiling. It was the greatest night. Truly.

LoveBug is away from me for the first night since he returned home with a broken leg. An associate flew in and is driving him around on his calls. I think perhaps I shall sleep on the couch.

CuddleBug flooded his school last week. I asked him why he snuck into the janitor's closet and turned on the water hose. He responded, "I didn't think it would flood the hallway." I'm not sure whether I should sign him up for therapy or Remedial Thinking 101.

I guess you could say that in the grand scheme of things, my sense of humor is serving me well. Next month I'm going to get a new tattoo. It will say, "If found, please return to bed."

This is Funky, and that is all.

Greetings from the Mouth of the Rat

2006-03-26T17:44:00.000-10:00

We're all checked in and cozy in Boca Raton. I just had a lovely smoke break on the balcony overlooking the pool I shall spend tomorrow lounging by.

I think as time passes, I'm finding my way in this world again. I've learned that kids make mistakes, and the bigger they get, the bigger their mistakes. And that's okay as long as they have a good, firm place to land. My kids have that.

Since starting NutriSystem other things have changed as well. I have boundless energy, and with that comes a new lease on life, as trite as that may sound. I look at the world in a way that is entirely different. It's not the weight loss, it's the healthy things I put into my body on a daily basis that have made a huge difference already.

I'm finally at home with myself. I bet you never knew I was homeless, did you? Well, I was. And now, I'm not.

So I sit here in my hotel room, in the Mouth of the Rat, and I can see that life is truly, very, very good.

And I see that though I've been silent, you've been coming around. And that warms my heart. I can appreciate you all in a new way as well. Once I thought my blog friends were my rock... but now I see you all as diamonds.

And when I crawl out of the Rat's Mouth, I'll come by to let you know how much I appreciate you all.

Blessings and Peace.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Just Felt Like Checking In

2006-03-23T15:03:00.000-10:00

I'm taking a break from the "other stuff"... CadiBug is reveling in her newly regained computer priveledges, CuddleBug is sleeping off a rough day of sleeping through class (ain't growth spurts a bitch) and LoveBug is working his little tush off at 8pm at night, making calls and keeping the contacts going.

This means for fifteen minutes or so, I can blog.

And I wanted to, if just to tie up some loose ends.

The Leg:
We got gooooooood news from the Doc today. He says GimpyBug will be LoveBug again in about four more weeks. Bye-bye crutches, hello clutches. That boy will be back to business as usual in just a wee bit.

The Diet:
After my first month on Nutrisystem, I've lost 14 pounds. Go me. I love the program, LOVE the food... just happy as a clam.

The Family:
It's quiet, it's peaceful, and no one has been "almost arrested" in several weekends. Let's break out the wine, shall we?

Next week is Spring Break, and I'll be out of town. The ex is driving down to spend the week with our kids, and I get to drive GimpyBug all over Boca Raton so he can do that thing he loves to do; work. Yeah, I don't get it either.

Lastly, I've gotten to play with the LensBaby I got for my birthday. Here's a few shots I'm rather happy with.

You can see the rest of my LensBabies by clicking on the flickr banner over there in my sidebar... then click on my profile. Blogger is being bitchy and it's taking forever to load a simple photo.

I miss you -- all of you. I've been lurking, I really have. Check your stat counter ;)

This is Funky, and that is all.

Synopsis

2006-03-18T10:17:00.000-10:00

I think the hardest thing about raising your children MUST be surviving the teen years.

I'm looking at my daughter right now and what I see is visages of my baby mixed in with someone I realize I don't really know at all. I push past those incredibly long eyelashes into those windex-blue eyes and I recognize them from a long time ago. But the spirit behind those eyes is at times unrecognizable. I realize this is my fault.

I stopped blogging because I was failing as a mom. When you look at your children and find you do not know them, you have made a fatal turn in the road you pledged to drive the day they were born.

Because that road was abandoned, we had an accident. I let her take the wheel and she left the road and crashed into tree.

The call you never want to receive as a parent starts out like this:
"Good evening, this is Officer So-and-So. Are you the parent of X?"

That's why I left. I had to clean up the accident and teach her how to drive this road. I also had to teach myself again.

I know this figurative speak isn't really helping anyone figure out what exactly happened. Honestly, it's because I'm beyond focusing on her mistakes. We've spend a few weeks together focusing on what caused her to make the decisions that she made.

And I'm looking at her now, and I think I'm starting to get to know her again. And that's really the most important thing I can do. Whatever purpose I may have in this life, the most important thing is to raise my kids to go out into this world and be safe --- even when Mom isn't around to ground them when they get caught.

As for this blog, I can't tell you were it goes from here. Part of me itches to write. Part of me misses the social contact with friends I've made. But in these last two weeks I have gained so much... done so many important things with the time I've recaptured. I have taken walks with my husband, taken pictures with my soul, and giggled with my kids.

I don't know, quite honestly, if I have the time for this anymore... at least not the way it was before.

So for awhile, it may look quite strange around here. You may not see me daily... you may not see me weekly. You may, if you look, see a different person altogether.

And that's because I just realized that I don't recognize myself anymore either. And I need to get back on THAT road as well.

This is Funky, and that is all.

I Interrupt This Blog...

2006-03-06T12:00:00.000-10:00

I'm sorry -- I can't explain...just can't really go into it right now.

But she needs me.

And I need to be there for her.

I'll be back soon.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Updated Saturday Morning 'Cause I 'unt' to.

2006-03-04T11:59:00.000-10:00

Wha? She blogs on Saturday? What the hell?

Yeah... well, I've been talking my poor husband's ear off all morning. I think he went to the bathroom to get away from me. So I'm going to type your eyeballs off now.

The audioblog below this is the one from Thursday night. This is the recap of sorts, with the promised photo of Slutty/Ugly.

M'kay. So I talked about my adventures with weight loss, and I'll talk more about that Monday when I continue my Me-Me. Therefor, I'll skip the recap on that particular subject.

I also mentioned in my audioblog that Slutty/Ugly returned to the fold. Seems that week she missed was just a week she was skipping. She returned the following week, and she was the same old S/U that I've come to loathe. My god, the kid has no shame. She bounces off the walls and makes her presence known in such a manner that I actually feel uncomfortable FOR her.

So last Thursday's class started out great. I was chatting it up with some classmates, one of whom shares my birthday. She was showing me the new camera her mommy gifted her with, so I took out my little Elph that my darling husband bought for me. My professor wanted to see it -- thought it was "really cool" and proceeded to take this photo.

I'm not proud of the large green monster in the foreground, but I show it to you now in the form of my "before" picture. As things were going smashingly well and the attention was NOT on her at all, S/U proceeded to command the attention of the entire class by announcing she had NO film. The stupid cow didn't even do the friggin' assignment and tried to "cute" her way out of it. Since my professor had already opened the door for me to take photos, here is the evidence to show that her attempts to charm my professor failed.

And here's a much better picture of the professor I've come to adore again.
Couldn't you just eat him with a spoon? He's so adorable.

And to round out this post, here's what I got for my birthday.

This (in Rockstar Red, of course):

And this (with additional macro lens accessory):

Which does stuff like this:

I'm going to take my lensbaby out this weekend and play with it. IF I get some cool shit, I'll drop it online and give you a heads up.

Have a beautious weekend...and have a drink on me.

Oh, and here's that audioblog thing.

Lent -- I Figured it Out

2006-03-02T00:00:00.000-10:00

I'm giving up HNT for Lent.

Just kidding.

I gave up talk radio.

This is Funky, and that is all.

My Birthday + Lent

2006-03-01T00:00:00.000-10:00

This has been the best birthday evah'! I can't remember when I felt so much love and contentment. I didn't look for magic... I FELT magicAL!

Then someone reminded me that Lent starts at sundown.

What the FUCK am I supposed to give up?

Blogging:

Are you fucking KIDDING me? No way in HELL. You would totally forget about me, and I'd have to start from scratch all over again. Besides, I can't live without my bloggy friends for six weeks. That's OUT.

Chocolate:

Well, durh... I'm on a DIET. Giving up chocolate for me would totally be cheating the baby Jesus. Same goes for alcohol and Little Debbie Snack Cakes. Not gonna work. Nope.

Caffeine:

Oh sure... that would be FINE for you guys... but my co-workers would strangle me if I traded my morning joe for morning prayer. Nuh-uh.

Smoking:

Okay -- see "Chocolate" and then imagine me without some vice. I just paid $300.00 for Nutrisystem food. If I give up smoking, I'll eat the whole crate in two days. Sorry. Next?

Television:

What? Miss American Idol? Grey's Anatomy? The finale of Flavor of Love? I'm sorry, baby Jesus... let's try again.

Swearing:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Fuck no.

It's not that I don't love me some Jesus... I really do. I'm totally down with the whole sacrificing Himself so I don't have to suffer the penalty for the stupid shit I do. But fact of the matter is, I'm stretched thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis thin... and I'm not sure I have anything left to give Him right now. I imagine He knows this... but just in case...

I'm giving up the concept of giving up something up for Lent.

What?!? You have a better idea? Fine... you know where the comment box is.

This is Funky, and that is all.

In 5...4...3...2...

2006-02-28T00:00:00.000-10:00

I'm looking at the clock, watching... waiting... I'm almost 37.

I'm actually looking forward to my birthday. How weird is that?

I've always HATED my birthday. I always set these huge expectations for some kind of magical day where everyone spoils me and tells me how fabulous I am. So when nothing magical occurs, I get pissy.

So I'm wondering why on EARTH I'm looking forward to my birthday? Well, I'm not so much wondering as I am standing in wonderment.

Here are a few traditions that I'm not observing this year.

We're NOT going to have a fancy dinner and a grown-up date. I told LoveBug to rest his little foot and I'll heat up a Nutrisystem entree and we'll catch AI.

I'm also NOT having birthday cake... not at work, not at home, not in secret.

So I've been thinking about how I want to celebrate the big 37, since I won't be blowing out candles. I could blow other things... but you know, it's MY birthday, right?

I decided to send 37 magical wishes out into the universe... one for each year I've been blessed to walk this wonderful earth.

(1) LoveBug will be back on his feet in two months.
(2) CadiBug and CuddleBug will fly through their FCATS without breaking out in hives.
(3) I will graduate this spring with a 4.0
(4) Manatees will NOT be taken off the endangered species list until they're no longer endangered.
(5) Scott will win his custody battle.
(6) #1 will find peace in spite of her mother's neglect.
(7) Scott will buy #3 a rat.
(8) #2 will also heal in record time.
(9) My mom will finally find her joy and song.
(10)Speaking of songs... I will finally see what a royalty check looks like.
(11) Marianna will find a way to get to Italy.
(12) Tim and Suz will thrive in their new jobs.
(13) I will be a milf before the year is through.
(14) We'll elect a democrat govenor.
(15) He will save the manatees and the Florida wetlands and the Scrub.
(16) The Bugs' dad will move to Florida.
(17) Scott and his crew will follow shortly thereafter.
(18) I'll make five new friends and we'll have coffee together... a lot.
(19) Nick Lachey will find someone hotter than Jessica Simpson, and live happily ever after.
(20) New Orleans will rise again.
(21) I'll spend a weekend at Atlantis in the Bahamas.
(22) I'll get more than three lottery numbers.
(23) My sister will smile every day.
(24) My kids will start to like each other, or at least pretend to when I'm in the same room with them.
(25) I'll forget what peanut butter cookies taste like.
(26) My ex mother-in-law will stop sending my kids peanut butter cookies.
(27) My dog will stop peeing in the house.
(28) No more soldiers will die.
(29) Tolerance will become the new black.
(30) My pile of laundry will disappear.
(31) Bloggers will stop hating on other Bloggers.
(32) Sephora will open up a store in my city.
(33) My kids will learn how to carry dishes to the sink.
(34) Christians will start acting like Christ again.
(35) I'll find something about the gym to look forward to.
(36) One of my photos will sell.
(37) I'll get to meet more of my wonderful Blogger friends.

Cool... it's like a to-do list that comes written on scented stationary, with a little genie attached and shit.

Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday to Me
Happy Birthday Little Funky
Happy Birthday to Me.

In 5... 4... 3... 2...

This is Funky, and that is all.

Me-Me-Monday #59 -- I Just Keeping Finding Those Same 50 lbs

2006-02-27T00:00:00.000-10:00

(If you want to know more about how to play, or you just need the HTML for this image, click on the image and it will take you everywhere you want to go.)

Last week covered #58 and my life-long struggle to lose weight AND keep it off.
58. Over the course of my life I've lost the same 50lbs.

This week continues my new journey at #59:
59. I keep finding them.

I'm pretty good at dieting. As my husband says, once I set my mind to doing something, I really do it 100%. But the truth of the matter is, once I lose that 50lbs, I find them again. Usually they come back with at least 10 or 20 of their friends. This last journey brought an additional 26 or so friends. As it stands, at the time I wrote number 58, I had about 76lbs to lose in order to reach a goal weight that I think is not only reasonable, but one I've never managed to reach in the past.

So I'm looking at that statement my hubs made this morning; once I set my mind to something, I do it.

So if I do it -- and then I don't do it -- what does my mind become "set" on that causes me to fall off the wagon and into a slice of apple pie?

There are a few things I've been able to identify -- those stumbling blocks that tip the wagon:

(1) I'm a stress eater.
The last time I did a truly successful stint was about three years ago with WW. I lost a lot of weight, going from a size 14-16 to a size 6-8. I looked healthy and I felt fabulous. But I fell off the wagon and ate my way back up the ladder. I looked at the timing of that event, and I remember going through an ordeal with my mother that completely threw me into a fit of despair. Is there something there? I'm not sure, but I do know that when I get angry or feel hurt, I immediately walk to the pantry and consciously put something evil into my mouth.

(2) I'm really afraid of being thin.
That's completely true. Fat is a barrier. Though I do not like the way I view myself when I'm overweight, and I certainly don't like the way I assume the world views me, there is a certain comfort in being undesireable. I KNOW that's weird, okay? But if I'm walking to my car after work, and it's dark... and someone drives by slowly... this voice in my head says, "You're fat, he's not interested."
This would make more sense if I had actually BEEN abused or attacked or some such thing. As it stands, other than two fairly benign occurances, I've never been either of those things. So where this fear and feeling of weakness comes from is anyone's guess.

(3) Inside me lives a fat girl.
When you're been overweight for most of your life, you don't know what it's LIKE to be thin. You have the psyche of a fat girl battling you every step of the way.

I imagine any one of those three things may be the reason why I keep finding that weight I keep losing. So this time, I'm facing the trio of demons -- and I'm facing them 100%. I WILL admit my fears, my weaknesses, and with much crying and humbling of my ego.

Because I turn 37 tomorrow. And that only gives me three more years to become a hot MILF.

This is Funky, and that is all.

So I'm Bad -- Sue Me

2006-02-24T00:00:00.000-10:00

No Audio Post tonight.

Hey, I'm doing you a favor.

The mood that I'm in was sure to bring you all down to my level.

And friends don't let friends blog depressed.

I think it's the lack of sleep, coupled with the enormous pressure I'm feeling to keep it all together.

I also started my diet today.

And there was NO diet coke left in the fridge when I got home from work and class.

That probably put me over the edge, if you want to be honest.

So I'm just going to be nice to you and spare you my bummed-voice... and I'm going to be nice to me and get a good night's sleep for once.

I'll be back on Monday, all perky and shit, 'cause that's what I do.

This is Funky, and that is all.

HNT -- Come a Little Bit Closer

2006-02-23T12:00:00.000-10:00

Come a little bit closer
You're my kind of man*
So big and so strong
Come a little bit closer
I'm all alone
And the night is so long

*insert non-gender specific noun here

This is Funky, and that is all.

Don't Drive Angry

2006-02-22T12:00:00.000-10:00

It's not like I left work in a good mood or anything. For starters, CadiBug calls me an hour before I'm off to tell me that I have to stop at Wal*Mart for some supplies she suddenly remembered she needs for a very important project due on Friday. I HATE Hell*Mart with a passion, so now I'm getting cranky. Then my $70 (on sale) shoes break a strap on my way to the car. How much more of a bad mood can I be in?

I'm sitting at the intersection and I can already see there's going to be a problem. Some rather eager commuters decided that instead of stopping for the red light, they'd just take up that silly extra room in the intersection... in the lane I need to be in... because I have the green arrow and the guy behind me is honking his horn, telling me to go where I cannot possibly go.

So, bad mood and all, I just go. That's when it happened.

This woman in a beat-up ol' car refuses to let me in my lane. Further, she leans out her window and says something which culminates with "stupid bitch."

I was stunned. Me? She's calling me a stupid bitch? She's the eager beaver taking up residence in the intersection, but I'm the stupid bitch?

I started mulling over her words... stupid bitch. And I feel that sensation in the pit of my stomach... I'm 13 again, and the boys are all watching me dive into the pool during PE because I have developed breast and pubic hairs, but they're not looking at me, they're laughing at me. Then I'm 8 again, and I've spilled milk on my pants midway through lunch, and I want my mommy.

But wait. She says, "bitch" like it's a bad thing. And "stupid?" Shit, I'm not stupid (furthermore, I'm not the one eating Big Mac in the intersection either.)

And I'm thinking all these things while being forced to drive behind her all the way through town.

That's when it happened.

That's when I stopped being so fucking passive.

That's when I decided that it's time for people to stop shitting on me.

So I stalked her. Since I was forced to follow her, I followed her good.

She changed lanes, I changed lanes. I stayed right on her bumper. The more I followed her out of town, the bigger my grin grew.

Then I took out my camera and snapped a picture of her license plate while stopped at a red light. Here's where she gets really nervous. She starts looking back at me in her mirror, and she picks up her cell phone.

She turns off the main road.

I follow her.

She winds around the lake.

I wind around the lake.

She speeds up, I speed up. She slows down. I slow down.

Then I got bored and let her off the hook. Because really, I've got better things to do than follow some stupid bitch through town. I've got to go to Hell*Mart and get some glue.

Anyhow, to the owner of this vehicle:

Think twice before you call someone a stupid bitch for trying in interrupt your chewing exercises. I'm just under a lot of stress, and clearly looking for some amusement. However, there are a lot of people who might do more than follow you through town for shits and giggles.

Yes, I consider it a public service. I may have saved her life. Or, maybe I just felt like being a stupid bitch. Who knows?

This is Funky, and that is all.

An Update on LoveBug's Leg

2006-02-21T12:00:00.000-10:00

LoveBug aka GimpyBug and I trekked over to the Ortho today for his follow-up. We were really feeling so optimistic. Over the weekend we were actually able to get out a little bit. He walked through the mall with his crutches, and stopped for some coffee at Barnies.

We took the kids to their various and assorted hangouts and had a grown-up dinner at Sam Setzers.

It FELT like things were beginning to return to some semblance of normalcy.
Sunday he felt better than he has since he broke his leg. He was able to put a small amount of pressure on his foot and not wince. It all looked so promising. We had visions of a walking boot and a release to drive, dancing in our heads.

Imagine our sadness when the Ortho said, "Looking good, coming along, rest, elevation, no pressure."

Click to play video

(I know it sounds like I'm making fun of him, but this is how we communicate. When one of is us sad, the other one makes a stupid joke. Don't knock it -- it's how we got together in the first place.)

So, other than getting rid of his Una Boot, we're still at square one.

And it breaks my heart. Send him some prayers and healing thoughts, for his leg AND for his spirit.

This is Funky, and that is all.

Me-Me #58 -- I Found That Weight You Lost

2006-02-20T00:58:00.000-10:00

Welcome to another installment of, "Come ON -- tell me the WHOLE story!" otherwise known as "I love to talk about myself", and in a pinch can be called Me-Me Monday. The object of the game is to refer to your 101 Things About Me list, pick one of your "things" and tell the whole sordid tale. If you're new and you want to grab this image for your post, see the instructions at the end of my post.

58. Over the course of my life I've lost the same 50lbs.

I've jumped ahead to #58 because it reflects a journey I'm once again embarking: my struggles with weight.

I wish I could go back to the beginning and tell you when my struggles with weight began. But I can't really remember a time when I wasn't dealing with this issue. I have childhood memories of trying to hide something inside a baggy sweatshirt, being chided by my father for taking an extra pat of butter, refusing to wear shorts in 90 degree heat.

I've never owned a bikini.

I've never felt comfortable in my own skin.

I can remember the first diet. It had something to do with beets.
I can remember the next diet. It had something to do with faux dieticians.
I can remember praying away the pounds.
I can remember when Atkins was my savior.
Then it was low-fat.
Then it was Weight Watchers.

Let me just say that I'm a very successful dieter. When I set my mind to losing weight, I do it.

I'm just not a very successful "sticker."

At some point I bought into the idea that diets don't work.

Well, neither does NOT dieting.

So here I am again, on the verge of starting a very strict, very scary, regimine.

I picked up my debit card on Saturday and ordered an entire month's worth of food from Nutrisystem.

An entire month.

No turning back.

Am I scared? You bet!

But for most of my life, I've fought this battle of the bulge. I'm always tired of fighting, but I'm more tired of being tired. I'm tired of hating the way my clothes look. I'm tired of layering. I'm tired of wearing black. I'm tired of counting the "Xs" in front of the "Ls". I want to take my six 6 skirt BACK out of the back of my closet.

Yesterday I felt like dancing. I tried to do a pirouette, and my knee gave out.

In 8 more days I'll be 37. Three years after that I'll be 40.

I don't want to be 40 and still fighting my fat. Fighting gravity is bad enough.

And I don't think dehydrated mail-to-door food is going to save me.

But I have to do something to start the saving process. My knees want to dance.

If there's anything I've learned in my struggles to maintain a healthy weight, its that I never know which diet is going to be the last diet. I do know that there won't ever be a last battle, until the war is won. It's called hope, kids. And I've got it in spades.

So here's to losing that same 50 lbs again.

Let me know if you played so's I can give you that linky lovin!

Here's the instructions for scarfing up this image for your Me-Me Monday:
Make sure you replace the parenthesis with < > .

(a href="http://funkybug.blogspot.com/")
(img src="http://static.flickr.com/29/43386062_d480de8e1d_o.jpg" border="0")(/a)

Remember... no "()", but "<>"

This is Funky, and that is all.

Live Drive Friday 4

2006-02-16T16:18:00.000-10:00

Here's your non-audio recap:

Slutty-ugly didn't show up for class tonight! I start out feeling sorry for her, and end up going into a rant.

LoveBug/GimpyBug is doing better every day.

And I'm okay with graduating without the ceremony. I still earned the right, right? Right. Once again, I get by with a little help from my friends. Y'all poured some mighty fine drinks, and I thank you.