Still life with puppy

This is the pupcake awake. Cuddling with bob the dog. We've had a pretty good day so far, interspecies relations aren't going too badly, no one's bleeding, and puppy is having a well deserved nap.
Sleeping is his favorite, at least today. Nobody slept much last night and everyone's having a nap right now, except me and Matt...poor frail humans.


The chairman, you see, doesn't think much of the proceedings and has kept to high ground, not that I can blame her.

Today was a big day, we drove out to petco for hard to find puppy food and an insane amount of toys. There is simply no point in scrimping on toys, tiny things to gnaw on is imperative to chewing redirection...which is why I spent 96 dollars at the pet store. That and treats. Can't train without treats and we're already working on sit. Actually he sort of came with sit, it was one of the product features, but making him sit for us is a bit different. He's done it three times today with tasty marrobone treats to follow, he's puddy in my hands.

the general and the dictator

Meet the newest member of our family, Knox.

Likes long walks in the park, sheep.

I have been mia because I have spent every breathing moment the last few days on petfinder.com. We're dog shopping. Well, I'm dog shopping and Matt is saying "oh, he's cute" when prompted. Matt was planning to get me a puppy for my birthday but it didn't work out, so he got me the first season of the wire instead. Fair. We've been looking since my birthday when we had the revelation that this is a great time to get a dog, when I have unlimited time to work with him or her. There is a puppy I am going to visit today at the humane society and there is a dog in tennessee I have inquired about. His name is Sarge and I love his soft eyes and the fact that he is eating a sheep in the picture. He's one of the underground fur road pets that are moved up north from southern kill shelters. The stories will kill you with their sadness, if you don't want to end up with 15 dogs don't read their bios...it's like a movie of the week in your living room.

I'm very excited about the new member of our fur family. It'll be nice to have a non-judgemental jogging partner. I'm considering him/her our newest piece of exercise equipment. If you don't use your treadmill it won't pee all over your floor. Is that positive or negative reinforcement of the humans? Anyway, I'm really looking forward to having a furry buddy. Meow just won't jog with me, won't even wake up from her nap when I ask her...lazy.

"Get a dog" was actually on a list of things to improve your health in the new year I saw some where, which I feel really conflicted about. It's great to have and love a dog but it's not like picking up a case of slim fast. Having a dog is great for your overall health for all kinds of reasons but it's not a quick fix or for people who don't have the right life style. I think linking pet ownership with the short lived new years dieting and health frenzy is despicable. More dogs with half-hearted owners who mistreat them and dump them 6 months later. Aaargh to that.

"Quiet, you'll miss the humorous conclusion"

Starting the post-Christmas welcome to the rest of your life at 182.6 pounds. It's not as bad as I would have thought after eating for four days straight. I'm totally tired of food. I'm trying not to think of this "period" of healthy eating as a "diet" but sheesh, who am I kidding. On a diet all you can think of is cheating so I really don't want to be on a diet in that sense. I just want to eat better through out the day. I started a few weeks before christmas a regimen of having the same breakfast every day. I'm going to do that with lunch too. It's so easy and there's no thinking involved. I'm not doing a proper south beach diet, but I'm cutting out everything unnecessary or over the top. I'm keeping my teaspoon of sugar in my tea and I'm cutting out the halloween and christmas candy, which seems fair and reasonable. If I have a sweet craving I go directly for tea, which is a good appetite suppressant too because your tummy feels all warm and full and it's only 15 calories.

I'm blogging the actual numbers again because I need the record. it's so much easier to chart things when you write them down for real. I've never once remembered anything I thought "I'll remember that" about so why fight it. I didn't record weight or exercise or anything at all this year and I gained about ten unrelentless pounds. Clearly the laissez faire doesn't work. I need structure and regular beatings to get anything accomplished, that's just the way it is and I must accept it. C'est la vie.

"I've been sane for a while now..."

Yesterday I drove up to Bar Harbor to see my friends and their very tiny new baby. We had about two feet of snow on sunday and it was too much for the philadelphia contingent because they were very worried I wouldn't make it to the house...Oh, how novel! I did pick up some stranded folks on my way there. A couple plowing out their friend got stuck between no and where and they flagged me down. They'd been waiting an hour and a half for a car to go by, which I totally believe, and even though picking up strangers on lonely snow covered roads is usually too Stephen King to contemplate, I'd feel damn lucky if someone was nice enough to help me on that road. Ironically it was the same couple from the summer, the woman with the pug that jumped into my car and they told me a good story about some of their neighbors. There's always been this sort of weird house with a cross on it on the road to home. Is that a house that's a church or a church that's a house? There are always half broken wheel chairs and fire wood for sale and i always wonder if it's the home of a faith healer that makes it's fortune off the crutches and chairs of the newly healed. Apparently not, which is disappointing. The real story is that the city had come to cut down a tree and the invalid owner chained himself to the tree shouting "I pay taxes!" to keep the city from chopping it. They arrested him and cut the tree while he was in jail and when he got out he vowed to never pay taxes again...so he got himself ordained as a minister. Apparently he got to keep the firewood too, so that seems fair.

Today is D day as far as Christmas preparations go. I have to bake some pies and wrap some presents and I have to scour my house from top to bottom. Fortunately I don't have to sew a thing because I'm completely over the sewing. Which is appropriate since I just spent so much at JoAnn's for new material. Ironical. The Macbook cover went over very well, pictures below. I love the old school apple design. I only have to make 800 of these to use up the 7 yards of rainbow fabric I have.





These are the result of franticly googling "homemade baby gifts". Every single site suggested a fleece blanket which is what I was trying to make but my sewing machine is cranky with me. They're supposed to be bathtub crayons...homemade....and they double as soap! What kid doesn't want soap??? They look cute anyway and I had all the materials on hand. ***If you googled homemade baby gifts and got to this page, make the bath crayons...you can put a bar of soap in the blender and melt it with some food coloring and you're good, it's the way to go.***

"You can't just go shooting down light aircraft with hand guns"

Matt just informed me that he is preparing to weld something 6 inches from a gas line. Probably he wouldn't have told me if I hadn't been downstairs and probably that would have been better than waiting for the explosion. Obviously it's a good time to blog. It's been cold as hell here and discouraging to the exercising. I know I've mentioned it before but it's really important for me to have excellent music to get my ass out the door in 6 degree weather. Here is my latest list of favorite songs for running in the deep dark north.

Ready to go
Can't Stop
Vertigo
Pon de Replay
Take me out
Last Smile
Your Song
One girl revolution
Let's get it started
Breathless

I don't even want to talk about number ten, my mother loved the corrs.

fabric junkie

Today I had wheels of my own for the first time in two weeks. It was awesome. I went to the fabric store and super walmart and to bed bath and beyond to use up a giftcard from last christmas before I get yet another one next week. I went crazy with my five dollars and bought myself a chop and scoop cutting board, not to be confused with the chop and scoop chopper (FYI). It was surprisingly hard to choose a five dollar something just for fun, I mean as much fun as you can get out of a cutting board. I almost bought a set of little steel prep bowls for 4 dollars but then I'd have to find a one dollar item and it just seemed too hard. I didn't have any trouble spending at the fabric store though, damn it's expensive to be a crafty house wife.

It was a harrowing experience too. Apparently no matter how long you stand in line at the cutting station if you don't have an actual number from the broken number machine they will not serve you. Harsh. A nice lady in the check out line gave me some coupons though so yay. My fifty dollars of fabric should have cost me tons and tons more apparently. I guess I need some more fabric store experience to up my thread cred. Hehehe. For the record I am done with pot holders and on to one more quilt and some Mac book cozies and some napkins. I'm taking a lot of pleasure in thinking up kitchen gifts for the girlfriend who doesn't cook. I'm a mean, mean girl.

In relevant news, I've lost two pounds this week. I was debating the south beach thing but it seems cruel and unusual to start the week before christmas so I'm just skirting the beach. I'm in the parking lot, if you will. Every day I can run I'm running and tonight I'm setting my bike up on it's indoor training thingy. Matt keeps saying he's going to do it for me but I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself. I should just ask him to do it because of the two of us he's the one who gets things done. Although, I am impressing his socks off with all my christmas sewing. He keeps saying he wishes he could put some stitches in himself but it's not really his forte. He can do his part by setting up my bike and keeping me out of friggin' JoAnn's. I can't go in there alone again, at least not until I get a job.

"I've been working steady for the past twelve years, minus the last three."

I made like six pot holders today. If I was working in a real sweatshop I'd totally be fired because I'm slow as all hell at sewing. Or maybe it's the cutting. Or the planning. I don't know which but some part of the pot holder process is slowing production. The by the hour cost of these pot holders is huge, if you look at it that way I'm giving all my nearest and dearest very pricey christmas presents. Just for the record.

I read mysteries. Gory, violent, and usually British. I love a good murder. One of the things every member of my family has in common is a love of mystery stories, that and food obviously. On my sister’s last visit from Prague she brought me a huge box of chick lit, a move I still haven’t figured out. Anyway, of the books in the box every cover has a pair of shoes and a cupcake and while I totally respect a persons right to read and relax with that sort of book I just can’t do it myself. It’s not that I don’t like sex, shoes and chocolate, I do…It's just that actual sex and shoe buying is more relaxing. When I’m asked to consider a book in that genre I usually decline because I know I’m not an unbiased reader and it doesn’t seem fair. The publishers of “Two Weeks Under” by Rivka Tadjer sent me a selection and a picture of the cover and lo, no cupcake and no shoes and a very familiar set up.

I don’t think I give anything away by showing this book to be a mystery. If it was an average feel good story about an overweight girl in the city there would be a cat and a best friend in on the secret. The secret, that only we the readers know, is that our would be heroine has made a very big decision to under go a serious procedure for vanity weight loss. A procedure that was essentially effective however unexpected the end result.

The procedure is a medically induced coma that reduces the patient’s weight. In my heart I feel like this should be a shocking revelation regarding the direction of healthcare in America but in my head I wonder if it’s not the next new thing. The only downside I see for the weight loss industry is that the thing actually works. Except for the pesky mysterious deaths the idea is awesome and with only the slightest suspension of reality.

On my first reading the thing that struck me about the characters was their weight, or lack there of. They’re not very overweight, just above normal on the BMI. They’re all skinnier than I am in their beleaguered pre-coma bodies. On my first reading it pissed me off how skinny they were and how they spent so much money to lose enough weight to hardly exist. That would be where Rivka grabs you and whoops your ass with the truth we all live. There’s no such thing as normal and there’s no rule about who’s allowed to be happy with their bodies and who’s not. The writer calls these comas "vanity comas" and bless her for being honest about all the things we do for our "health".

In the lives of the women in this book, women with good jobs and expensive apartments, weight is still an issue…still the issue. The money spent and risks taken by these women to achieve their metamorphosis is the same as every woman who buys diet pills or signs up for Jenny Craig but on a different scale. My first reaction to the women in this book is that they weren’t relatable but I was wrong, I don’t know a woman who wouldn’t use every advantage to have a body she felt good about.

Rivka Tadjer has written a book for every woman who wonders about her true potential and she did it in a way that didn’t need the amusing embarrassing moment or the binge fest over the handsome man from the foreign office. But maybe I’m just a sucker for a good mystery.

How cold is too cold to run?

Take my advice and never google this phrase. The truth is that I only googled it so I could find a good excuse not to go running this morning. The temperature was 4 when I started my googling and now it's 6 so what's to complain about. 6 whole degrees! It was so much better when I didn't know what temperature it was out, I'd just bully myself into going and then cut off my toes when I got back, simple and efficient. Anyway the answers I got ranged from "it's never too cold, put on some clothes" and "if you can see your breath it's too cold". If you can see your breath, damn, I'd only be able to leave my house like 3 months a year if I abided that rule. So, I'm getting dressed because I should consider it lucky that the road isn't covered in ice/snow and that it's not precipitating in any manner and you know I'll be grumpy when it's snowing and I'm stuck inside and no one likes a whiny blogger. I'm gonna get dressed slowly though, hold out for 7 degrees.

I'm also going to stall by blogging about the show yesterday. FIVE DIFFERENT WREATH MAKERS! I pulled up to the door and there was a jeep unloading the world's largest supply of ugly ass balsam wreaths. I was feeling a little guilty about not having made any balsam wreaths and that stupid jeep filled me with relief. I'm so glad I didn't waste my time doing any more friggin' balsams, the only things we brought home were balsam. By the looks of the packing up none of the other balsam sellers had luck either. We made enough to cover costs but it was by no means a good craft fair, the ladies next to us sold exactly one hat and yet another wreath maker was on his cell phone as we packed up saying "I had such nice wreaths for sale". Charlene heard more and said he sounded really depressed but most of his wreaths had american flags on them and maybe this isn't the right timing for a patriotic christmas. One of the groups selling wreaths was extremely, uhm, in need of a bath and every time we made a sale they'd come over and ask how sales were. "Dude, isn't it sort of obvious", not really, I'd say "great" with a big smile and he'd go back to his table and sneer. I'm sure there's a market for giant angels glued to wreaths but apparently not in ellsworth.

Hey, that paragraph got me two whole degrees! Wish me no frostbite!

"a thin line between hell and here"

I had a very nice birthday. The power was out all day so I had two naps, Matt took me to the thai place that serves rice in the shape of teddy bears which was brilliant on his part and we went to the fabric store. He found pink boxes and wrapped my presents in hello kitty paper, so I'm a very happy girl. We have a show tomorrow and I have to make just about every piece today with ice covered greens. Extremely unbrilliant on my part. And I have a book to review which I've read three times for professionalism's sake. More on that monday. If I can get my act together.

"Well, I'm not dead or unconscious, so I say bravo for me.'

This is what I've been doing. When Matt's grandma died his mom let me have a lot of her sewing things and some dishes and some retro print sheets. I saved the sheets especially for this quilt to be a christmas present for his mom. It's a small quilt, just something for the couch, but I'm having fun making it. Because the fabric is used the quilt is very soft and I can't keep the meow off. I hope his mom likes it as much as the fur does.

Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm feeling really weird about it. It was around this time last year that things started to unravel and I feel like I'm just getting things raveled. As raveled as one can be when you have no job and no prospects and also you broke your car exactly three days after your boyfriend finally fixed it for you. I slid on some ice coming home from home and I was fine it was just that I hit an embankment going very, very slowly and I bent some part that isn't meant to ever be replaced because apparently you can't buy that part on planet earth. And I felt better when I wasn't thinking about my car up on jacks in the garage. Better to think about quilts and cookie baking and frontier housewifery. And maybe prozac.

Next week if my car is working I'm going to see the unemployment man because I need help and it's good if they see how insane this is and god help him if he tells me to get an email account as the solution to my problems. But I've been thinking about job training and I wonder if the have one of those tests that tells you what you're supposed to do with yourself. Or maybe they make you play the game of life and just go with whatever card you get. I'm thinking about hairdresser school. If I go into color application at least I can be high all day.

"Of course it blows, it's a horn."

The other day I went out to buy some socks. I want to start the story there because I want the innocence of the errand to have center stage for about eight seconds. So, I was shopping for socks and I bought the socks and I took the socks to the car and we started to drive home, me and my socks. It was then that a very old man and his wife started to drive into my car. I beeped at them. It was intended to be a short, polite, you’re trying to kill us beep. The intention was there, I fully intended to beep briefly. Only the car didn’t so much agree and the beeping wouldn’t stop. Which was really fun when I drove by the old folks shaking their fists at me.

If they teach you what to do when your horn won’t stop horning in driver’s ed I completely forgot. I tried hitting it, you know, vigorously and at the stop light I tried turning the car off. Twice. And then I merged on to the highway. Probably I could have pulled over and been a spectacle but why do that when you can be a spectacle all over town…so I drove home. I didn’t have any tools or, like, a clue so I just kept driving.

The highway wasn’t so bad, the speed and the noise seemed to help with the beeping. It was the back roads filled with staring pedestrians and dog walkers that were the most fun. I’m not sure my flailing and the “it’s not me, I swear” face I was making convinced anyone that I wasn’t crazy. Two giant suv’s pulled over in a hurry like I was an ambulance and one child cried. No, not really but I think crying children add a level of drama, very Lord of the Rings.

So, the whole time I was driving home I was on the phone with Matt discussing various ways to make the noise stop. Pull the fuse, disconnect the battery, sledgehammer. I thought about warning my dad with a phone call but that would ruin the heart arythmia causing surprise when I pulled up with a blaring horn (like I got a bagpiper stuck in my grill: see tweet). I got home to my thank god it’s empty neighborhood and opened the hood. And you know, way louder when you’re out of the car with the hood up.

It’s really hard to concentrate with a noise like that but we finally got the batter disconnected and in the quiet pulled the fuse and we never had to use the sledgehammer. And I tried so hard to be invisible in my dad’s neighborhood. Fail.

"We will bring you the limp and beaten body of Bob Barker"

Yesterday I had a "re-interview and workshop" regarding my unemployment benefits. I was extremely freaked out about it but it turned out to be as big a waste of time as any workshop I've ever been to and not at all scary. There were at least three people who interjected useless things about every three minutes and one asking the world's stupidest questions every two minutes so it was exactly like every other workshop I've ever been to. "What website are all these jobs on?" "This is the website." "But what is it linked to, these jobs are on a website" 'This is the website, these jobs are on this website" "But what does it link to". It was awful. Four hours of the importance of having a resume and creating your own email account. It was a waste of time except for about 10 minutes when they discussed self employment and job training. I could be a plumber and kill two birds with one stone.

I am going to talk to them about self employment and essentially beg for help. There was a very long discussion about survival jobs....the jobs people have while they're looking for the jobs they want. I've had survival jobs since I stepped foot in Maine and the one I thought would change all that made me miserable and unemployed. I've been job searching for five years and I'm tired of it. There's nothing here to be found. I'm beginning to think it's time for a big change. I'm going to see what options I have with the career counselor folk who are clearly desperate to get us all back to work and out of their hair. I'm running out of options and discussion of my moving went very badly not that I expected different. Things at the moment stink and I'm seeing very few ways out.

"mr. billowy coat king of pain"

So I was about to do my nablopomo post and hey, it's december. I don't have to post. But I am, aren't I virtuous. It's a very nice 50 degrees here today and it was very good running weather. I should have had a great run but instead I got halfway, cut my feet off and limped home on bloody stubs. Or is it stumps. Never can remember. Anyway, yeah, standing all day sucks. I've forgotten what that was like having been a chair bitch lo these many months. Now I'm whining and cooking, busy busy. I have a big day tomorrow full of haircuts and wreath deliveries and the ever exciting grocery shopping. Must get a life if I'm to continue blogging, I'm boring myself to tears.

"Charlene, I think you're special..."

There was a very sweet, very christian girl selling personalized children's music cd's in the booth across from us at the fair. It was sort of awesome/horrible but she was super adorable so I can almost forgive the fact that I will have every single one of those songs stuck in my head for the rest of my life. She did all of our names and I asked her if she had Barack, but sadly that's not an option. It would have rocked.

We just about broke even and since we have a few more shows to do we should have a profit at the end. A lot of the other crafters were very disappointed in the turnout. We felt pretty fortunate. Our theory is that most people buy wreaths every year and ours were pretty cheap...it was a blue light special sort of day...unlike some of the other products that they had to work a little harder to sell (how many people need a dinner plate clock for instance). It was very educational. We learned that Hemlock and Pine together is a very big hit, sometimes you can't have too much gold on one wreath (that was a special experience, I wish I had a picture), and glitter makes everything better. We had a pretty good time altogether and I got a very nice loaf of wheat bread from a wise vendor who didn't want to take it home. Which I totally understand now.

"No, I kneed it then."

So far, we've made almost half of what we spent. One more day to break even!

"windy with a chance of murder"

Tomorrow is the first real test of our crafting skills. It's extremely nerve wracking. Fortunately for my nerves there was a rain storm that melted all the damn snow so I got to have a few runs this weekend. Life is better with running, it just is. Pounding the pavement really clears my brain, I should really look for a treadmill on craigslist. I had to go to walmart this morning which I thought would be awful but actually it was fine and I even got to park up front. There were cashiers standing around begging to ring people out, it was really bizarre. I asked them if the morning was busy and at first she shook her head and then she said that the numbers beat last year by 10 am. So wow for that. Every year "they" say that people are cutting back for christmas and blah blah blah and every year they're wrong because americans don't consider christmas optional. They might starve in January but in December they're buying tickle me elmo. It's truly fascinating.

"You smooth talking sex maniac"

I didn't make it home for thanksgiving so we're having thanksgiving in miniature by ourselves. Actually we're hiding out from Matt's family and hopefully it doesn't bite us in the ass but at the moment I can't seem to care. There is far too much to get done above and beyond cooking an impromptu tiny ass thanksgiving dinner.

Sadly, I burned the edges of my mini pumpkin pie, bad, bad baker, but I'm hoping to do better with the mini apple. Matt requested a cornish game turkey but this was the closest I could get. I expect he'll have a whole tablespoon of stuffing and gravy but he's far too busy to care. Hopefully Christmas is less trouble.

"she irons her jeans, she's evil"

These are the running sneakers I bought the fall before I moved out of Bar Harbor, two years ago. I was very careful to only wear them for running, to protect my investment and also because they're super white nikes and not exactly my every day style. I bought some new running sneakers this summer because apparently you're supposed to replace your running shoes after every third run or something so two years seemed about right. I've been wearing the old ones around the house, for running when it rains so my new shoes don't get trashed, I've worn them every day for wreath making. Every other piece of clothing I've worn down in the shop is trashed, pitch and dirt and spray glitter and yet these sneakers are like they're out of the damn box. I think maybe they're possessed. There's no other explanation. My sneakers might be evil, definitely undead. No other explanation for them being so damn white after two years of use.

"And yet I feel no pain. Just a sort of disinterest."

I am seriously broken. We've been getting our wreath on all day and I'm tired and dirty and there are pine cones in my oven. It actually smells really awesome in here, piney. I'm trying to get home for thanksgiving which is sort of reminding me of being in college. Working until the last minute, packing frantically and then driving for a much too high percentage of two short days. Not that I'm complaining. I really, really wanted to go home this thanksgiving. What is the purpose of being unemployed if you can't spend holidays with the fam. I'm feeling guilty both about staying and going and very stressed which seems totally unfair since I'm supposed to be obligation-less. But there is no such thing is there, unless maybe you're a cat.

My brother is in his own apartment which is a new development on the home front. It seems he's been on a list for a very long time for a semi-assisted living situation. It's obvious that he can't live on his own, living with dad is not helping him or dad and my almost 70 year old father is right to worry what happens to my brother if something happens to him. My sister can't take care of him and her three children and he'd be even more isolated here and god knows my sister in europe isn't going to be able to, so he has to be in the system. He needs more help than we can give him, more structure. He's never been able to do normal things on his own, like take a shower every day without being forced (as in not just stand in the bathroom with the shower running for two minutes like people who actually bathe won't notice that that's not long enough and also that your hair is dry) and other more unpleasant acts of personal hygiene and it seems unreasonable to think that after thirty four years he's going to get better.

He's not going to get better and it's time to accept that and do what has to be done. Unfortunately, this means he's going to have a roommate which is worrisome. His college roommate didn't take too well to the not showering, we can only hope that this roommate is equally insane or that the staff is extra super excellent. My dad is terrified that he's going to get kicked out for his behavior. My sister says that if he does get kicked out it'll be to a more structured environment because he is obviously not ok and not capable of living a normal life. There was a point during his last psych ward visit wherein he lied compulsively to the staff and they said if that behavior continued they may never be able to let him out. They obviously did but I don't think he was better off. He really, really likes the psych ward and since nothing else in the whole world gives him pleasure...maybe he should be there.

warning, actual post ahead

Third day of not being able to run and already almost three pounds up. Fark. I can't run on the road because of the snow. The snow that apparently was centered on our wee hamlet and left about 8 inches while it wasn't snowing anywhere else. Tomorrow I'm setting up my bike for indoor cycling to make up for the cardio hours I'm missing from my runs. Today I have to make about 20 wreaths and I just have to set that cycling goal for tomorrow. I know you're not supposed to make goals for tomorrow...all the best intentions and all...but I just can't do it today unless I finish all my wreaths early. Which is a strange reward, finish all that manual labor and you can exercise for an hour, WHOOO! By the end of this expedition tarring and feathering would be something to look forward to, anything but pine.

And also, of course, there is the food. On the one hand, when I was working I was out of the office a lot and it was really easy to pick up this or that and then completely forget about it when it came to rationalizing the day. At home, everything is at my disposal but it's quite as easy as buying a soda or chocolate and running back to the office. I don't buy a lot of things to grab and snack on. Anything we want to eat, we have to cook first. I really think exercise is my biggest hurdle, (pun totally awesome) and I have to get that figured out before it's January and I'm going backwards.

I think we're in a cold snap

Ya think? It's 18 degrees right now. 18. It's November...this is wrong, just wrong. It's far too cold for November. I'm severely displeased. I'm all kinds of cranky today because of the cold and the snow and the fact that I'm pretty sure two of the four nightgowns I've now sewn won't be wearable. I made a big sleeve mistake. Sleeves are a serious pain in the rear and I'm pretty sure the way they are sewn will prevent tiny arms and heads from getting their pajama on. I can A. ignore it and hope for the best or B. put in a zipper or a button or the like. I could make them sleeveless except for the 18 degrees problem. It's tricky being a seamstress. I'm never sewing clothes with sleeves again. All vests from here on out.

Firstly, it's been snowing all day and the weather channel says it's clear and windy. Not even thanksgiving and the battle begins. I was supposed to do some tipping and some wreathing...I have serious craft fair homework and so far I'm failing. I'm getting an F in craft fair. I think I'm getting an A in flattening birch bark though. I have a big damn piece drying in my bathroom under some ridiculously heavy steel weights from Matt's machine shop. Matt originally suggested using the iron but I'm pretty sure the indians sent theirs to the dry cleaner so I'm giving this method a whirl. It's supposed to be a sign for our booth but maybe we'll make a canoe for old times sake.

Pajama party '08 is coming along well, the second gown is officially done. I thought I liked the flowers better, and then the ice cream, and now I'm not so sure. Any votes? The seams are a hell of a lot straighter on this set though, which is good because finding crooked children is a pain in the ass.

"I'm so sorry if my agonizing pain is inconveniencing you."

Firstly, after a number of experiments conducted lo these weeks of unemployment I have decided that a banana and oatmeal is the best pre-run breakfast. Normally, when I had a job and a schedule, I ran before breakfast. Lately it's so freakin' cold that the longer I put off my run the warmer it is. A few degrees is a lot when it's 30. I'm pretty proud of myself actually for not being more of a wimp and giving up completely. I might have to invest in a face mask though, before my cheeks actually fall off one day.

I keep forgetting today is friday and that thanksgiving is next week. I need to make myself a post-it. Our first big ass craft fair is the weekend after thanksgiving and we're killing ourselves to be ready. We didn't seem to think there would be very much work involved because we aren't very smart. It's going to be a learning experience for sure. And also it's very sticky. I've washed my hands more times this week that I have...probably ever. I might not have any skin left by christmas.

"ten wanks beyond fussy!"

Pajamas a la me. We finally got one of the machines working (oil, who knew) and I got the first nightgown done. It looks really great from a far. It's sort of worse when you can see the seems but that's the great thing about children's clothes because children grow so fast they might just outgrow the nightgown before the whole thing unravels...always thinking!

I have to make three more and then my christmas sewing is done. Fortunately the children are progressively smaller and I'm getting faster with each seem so by these calculations I should be done before I start the third pair, it's like flying west. Can you call it a pair when it's only one? Pajamas are confusing.

A very Brady christmas to you too

So, we're up on Etsy. With three whole items. WooHoo. Wanna see what we've been up to these last few days, check us out!

imaginary business

Today I made exactly one wreath and my hands are so black with pine pitch I look like my boyfriend. I now know how boys get so dirty, it's really not that hard. So, I made one wreath that I sort of hate, I accidentally painted Charlene's beautiful took her two hours wreath with silver instead of clearcoat and while I feel reallllly bad about that it looks pretty awesome.

I'm getting ready to post some things on Etsy tomorrow. I'll put the link here so you can see how we're spending our unemployed time. I'm no longer foolish enough to think we'll make any profit but we're having a good time. Good times are better than "oh my god I'm unemployed" times so everyone wins!

If you can't beat 'em, balsam

Making wreaths is effing hard but it smells awesome. We made nine today, four of which look like the christmas decoration equivalent of pissed off and rabid wildebeasts, but whatever. It's a learning process. We're going to try again tomorrow...starting with bow making 101. Maybe I shouldn't have given the florist so much shit at the old job, it does suck standing all day working at a table. I'm a mean, mean girl and I'm feeling repentant.

"fabulous but semi-crippling"

Working hard at the Maine Grind in Ellsworth, with cupcakes...yay for customer appreciation day. We were discussing our imaginary business and reading Martha Stewart. Charlene has some super awesome ideas if we can actually figure out how to make a wreath. If we can get past that hurdle, well, we're golden.

This morning it would not stop raining so I missed my daily run. I made up for it by helping Matt lug firewood. It was seriously demoralizing. He did two trips to my one, I was the weakest link. He kept saying it didn't matter, everything I carried was something he didn't have to carry, but I felt completely useless. And now I feel completely knackered. Which I suppose means I got my exercise quotient but I don't feel energized like I do when I get my run in, I just feel tired. I suppose that's the difference between work and exercise.

cautionary tale

I grabbed matt's ugly ass orange fleece as Charlene and I were leaving to search for balsams yesterday. I'm not a mainer but it's a habit and I was shocked that Charlene didn't have a stitch of orange on or in her car. She was worried about bears and I'm worried about hunters. Matt has officially banned me from wearing brown, white, basically any color that any dumbass with a gun could possibly think was a deer. I'm not even allowed to carry a plastic hannaford bag because they're either white or brown, I had to find the one blue one. A long time ago he told me a story of a woman who was in her back yard with white mittens and was shot because someone thought she was a deer. I always remember that story and today it was in the paper. That was twenty years ago and the anniversary is today. It's pretty hard to read but I wasn't here twenty years ago and I didn't have to live it. I feel terribly for both parties, I really do. A family lost their wife and mother and a hunter took a human life, whether he's able to admit it or not.

The article says that hunting is safer now and blah blah blah but I think a lot of what the victim's husband said of 1988 is still true today. Hunters think that their right to hunt is all that matters and that anyone who objects is against hunting and against guns and is a liberal communist pussy. Really, there are t-shirts. They noted a housing boom as a cause of the accident. Personally, I think if you're going out somewhere with a gun you have a responsibility to know where the fuck you are (and have, you know, permission) and what you're shooting at and if you show up somewhere and there are houses maybe you should re-think your plan. Recreational land users in Maine drive me fucking crazy. They really think they can take their guns and their atv's and their snowmobiles anywhere they want to and it's just fine. Dig up our road, trash a blueberry field, shoot a homeowner...I don't think most of them are aware of consequences because for so long everything was just paper company land or unorganized land and now it's owned by individuals and Roxanne and they're unable to deal.

There is a distinct inability to adapt here, to accept change. Which is bullshit because it's damn hard to live here. I sometimes wonder if the populous survives on sheer stubornness. There is a complete inability to accept change. If you work for the paper mill and the paper mill shuts down...no one moves. They all just stay there and starve and say gee things were better when the paper mill was here...I do not understand. I do not understand because I am an outsider and I'm sure that Kevin Woods is right when he says it would have made a difference if the hunter had killed a local woman. If it was a Mrs. Baldacci that was shot, or anyone named Beal it would have been a different story.

I am genuinely scared when I'm out in the woods because Matt is scared for me. He's a hunter and he knows a lot of hunters and if he thinks most of them will shoot anything that moves I trust him. I can't wait for November to be over and the fear of being shot in my own yard gone (well, lessened anyway). I hate wearing orange and wondering weather my burgundy sweater is going to get me killed, it's no different than victims in rape cases being criticized for their clothes. I don't think it's my responsibility to keep morons from shooting me but I don't want to die for it so I wear the orange...and I make Charlene wear the orange too. I told her bears are afraid of orange so everyone wins.

"She's so hot, she's making me sexist - bitch."

The wreath making odyssey began today. We bought some supplies including some ridiculously fabulous flocked 1960 reindeer that I frickin' love. I'm not all that into christmas decorations...strange considering my new venture...but I seriously love these reindeer. They stepped right of the wonder years I swear. They're magnificent in their ugliness. We also bought some stuff that's not ugly, like ribbon and rings and blah blah all the other stuff you need to make cool stuff. Tomorrow we're going to scope out some craft fairs and check in on the competition. We're amazingly on the same page with our design ideas. I knew we thought a lot alike before but we really clicked today while making our choices in the shop and then driving through the woods (don't ask) and I'm really excited about our plans. Even if we don't break even, we'll have a great time so that's something.

What is not something, well I guess it is but it's a sucky something, is that I gave my friend the last kitkat in the bag this afternoon. WHICH MEANS I ATE AN ENTIRE BAG OF KITKAT MYSELF. No, really. I gave half of one mini kat to Matt and one mini pack to my friend and every other one I friggin' ate myself. No damn wonder I've been holding at 180. What is a wonder is that I haven't keeled over dead one morning coming up the hill. Can one have solid chocolate in the arteries, I know about cholesterol but what about chocolate...what is the survival rate of the kitkat bypass surgery? Is there anything more embarrassing in the whole world than offering candy to your new business partner and then having to admit you ate the WHOLE BAG because you already told her you were having a slight kitkat problem that morning. Yeah, no. I really need to get my shit together. What is the point of killing myself to run every morning and pushing myself further and GROWING EMOTIONALLY to then eat an entire bag of halloween candy? I hate myself so much right now, you have no idea.

the big licker

This sweatshirt was covered in fur. It belongs to Matt, so it really belongs to the meow and we've just been pretending it doesn't exist because wow was it furry. I stuck it in the washer as was and this is what happened. Doesn't it look like a constellation? Perhaps it's a great piece of art exploring the nebulaeic depths of the universe. Perhaps I should clean my house more often. Perhaps I should blog on a topic that isn't cat related.

I had a really sort of sad run today. I was not in to it. I find on days like this that I just keep hitting next song on my shuffle until I realize I'm just standing on the side of the road and that's not so sweaty an activity. I added a few new songs recently and that did the trick for most of last week but today not so much. Nelly is really the only music that keeps my feet moving, it is getting hot in herre and it must be the money because for some reason those two songs have consistently pumped me up. Yay nelly. Unfortunately it's not really in the budget to buy new songs every week just to keep on the trail. I've got to find some other motivation to get me to endorphin euphoria. What do you do when you get tired of your exercise music, do you buy a ton more or get over it?

I'm really enjoying my early runs despite the music problem, it's a different thing altogether when you aren't in a hurry to be anywhere..."why yes, I can run a bit further...why not go another half mile" so far it's very positive. I fixed my pants so I'm better dressed and perfectly warm and so far not shot (I did see a deer tied to a honda civic today which was a bit like a elmer fudd cartoon). I'm not seeing a huge weight reduction, I'm down around five pounds and holding but oh so impressed with my new muscles. I love feeling myself up.

I read something recently about using your blog as a resume and somehow I think not. But then maybe everyone doesn't write about grabbing their own ass. I guess it depends on the profession.

"We are gonna get drunk with Russell Crowe and we're gonna head-butt some goddamn kangaroos."

So, don't even tell me how many years I am behind because I don't need to know...I just, just this second got hooked on friggin' entourage. It must have been a while back because they're dancing to toxic and their Mac is a G4. The wreath business officially begins tomorrow but my pajama party is in tatters. Grandma's machine is, uhm, well I can't get to the damn bobbin. Any of y'all sew, I'm totally desperate. If anyone knows how the hell to get to the arm of a Singer Stylist 533 write me urgently. I have half useless sewing machines all over my newly emptied living room and it's damaging my chi. I feel like my meme, only without the 32 years worth of styrofoam McFishwich boxes stacked in my bedroom.

Tricksy sewing machineses

Obviously I suck because I had to publish to see what the pictures would look like and whoa, it's like a collage. Not that it matters, photojournalism this is not. Anyway, here's my new sweatshop. Or it would be if the sewing machine worked. Something is happening between the thread and the bobbin and it makes an unpleasant sound. I guess in the three years since I've sewn anything something went awry. Or more likely I put it away broken and figured it would be fixed by the time I used it again. Which seriously didn't work. I have another sewing machine downstairs that hopefully works...it just comes with one of those huge ass desks. Can you see the size of this room? I spent all week trying to make more space in my sky trailer and now I have to bring up another desk. Argh.

I'm trying to make pajamas for the children for christmas. I already cut all the pieces so hopefully I can get a machine working because it would seriously suck to sew all that by hand. I made Matt's cinnamon bread yesterday but it was still cooling last night. I used it for french toast this morning and decided that I am a genius. But not genius enough to take a picture. I did take a sort of creepy picture of Sam from the end of the first lord of the rings. I have a lot of time to kill so trilogies it is. Back to the future tomorrow. I almost wish I had tv, the silence is killing me. And still, no braids...

"He's alright, as far as violent pissheads go."

Officially tired of unemployment. Considered cleaning bathroom grout with toothbrush simply to pass time. Set up twitter but as I'm doing nothing 25 hours a day, no tweets. Opened bag of halloween candy, bad decision. Frozen kit kats suck. Considering going outside to be eaten by bear for blog fodder. Cat would not allow me to braid her fur, said something about boundaries. Help.

"Somewhere a rainbow is weeping."

I dun broke my running pants. Must've been running too fast, too hard, too run-a-lisciously. Yeah, whatever it's going to be a long month but I seriously did break my pants. I'm distressed, the cord broke in the middle of the, err waist band, and somehow I have to fish it out because I'm way too poor to buy new ones. It's going to take hours, which fortunately I have, but at the moment I'm too lazy. So this morning I had to wear my pippy longstocking socks with my not long enough sweatpants (seriously, capri sweatpants...what was I thinking) and my horribly yellow sweatshirt so I'm not mistaken for a deer and some truckers from canada honked at me. Sassy bastards. It was quite a look, like short stop on the baseball team of hell. How's that for imagery. Aren't I writer-y today. Hemingway, Hemingway, Hemingway.

So clearly I'm going frickin' insane in my house. Too much time alone and I'm completely out of things to dust. Just me and the meow. I'm going to braid her fur later and then we'll play truth or dare, it's gonna rock. I can't wait for my friend to get laid off so we can be bums together. Top of the list of things I never thought I'd wish for.

"Jesus is coming - Look Busy!"

So, something happened at the funeral that has been driving me crazy and since I have to post every day this month why not get it out of my brain and into the blogosphere and then maybe get over it. Matt's mother introduced her sons to the very kind and eloquent reverend as "this is my son "Matt's brother" and his beautiful girl "girlfriend" oh, and this is Matt and Amy". I'm a big petty jerk but damn does that seem insensitive to you?

I edited this part where I wrote about Matt's frustrations because they're his and not mine to discuss at length on the internet. I will say that it makes me cranky when they treat him badly. He gets guilt trips for not going to each of the three to four birthday parties for his brother's girlfriend's children but no one seems to care that the brother didn't make it to say goodbye to his grandmother who was dying for over a month. Children that are in no way related to matt and have so much family that they have a handful of birthday parties every year merit more time than your actual grandmother who has asked to see you one more time, great family values. I'm tired of us being the pariahs because we make different choices. And also, the brother made a remark that Matt has a mother and not a girlfriend because I cook for him instead of stouffer's every night...sorry you're jealous buddy..nothing I can do about it.

I know I'm the odd one out and that's fine with me most of the time. I'm not going to pretend to go all gooey about her babies (for whom they put diet coke in a sippy cup, WHAT THE FUCK) and christmas and say "gee, aren't men helpless" all the time just to be like his mom and the perfect, beautiful girlfriend (who didn't vote because she didn't have the time...that pesky every four years is so hard to plan for). ARGHHH. I'm just frustrated and Matt is frustrated and I'm tired of sucking it up. I'm taking a break from sucking. I'm going to be vapid and petty and whiny today and maybe I'll be a grown-up tomorrow. Afternoon.

"And that's why you don't get your money's worth when you wear jeans to a strip club"

Currently baking a pie, making applesauce, folding laundry and watching Smokey and the Bandit. I'm a busy, busy girl. My friend from the old job and I are getting our christmas wreath venture all sorted out. We even have some customers already! Yay! We're going up to the wreath making capital of Maine next week for supplies. Expect photos of wreath-y goodness. I'm planning to print up some christmas cards too, I'm SO crafty when I have the time.

Because of the crafting I've pulled out all my printing supplies. I have a stack of soft block to carve. I've been storing it with some styrofoam plates that I used for valentine's day a few years back. It was silly to save styrofoam, they're not exactly heirloom printing plates, but I did and man was it interesting when I pulled them out. Apparently, when you stack soft block and styrofoam together it turns the styrofoam into rubber. Which is fascinating. The soft block plates are fine, even cleaner after the rubber pulled out all the ink residue. Next time I'll store them for 10 years and hope for diamonds.

"God was my co-pilot but then we crashed into a mountain and I had to eat him"

A long time ago when my mom was just sick instead of gone, my aunt gave me one of those pink ribbon magnets for my car. I should say she tried to give it to me, I wouldn't take it. She had bought a whole bunch of them, she had one of every color on her car: cancer, the troops, one for everything. My refusal was sort of a big deal and apparently I have no tact with that sort of situation. I don't always see the benefit of lying for the sake of others and probably I'm a bad person. I admit it freely, and right up at the top here because the rest of this post gets a little cranky..

Today at the grocery store the wall o' pink products was on sale. It was very difficult to not buy a pink broom, or some pink pot holders or anything really because I love me some random pink stuff. But I couldn't do it and not just because I'm not supposed to be spending on random things. I hate all that breast cancer awareness crap. That might even be too specific, I hate all that raising money for a cause by buying stuff to stick to your car or because it's a certain color. I don't believe that buying cupcake liners with pink ribbons on them cures cancer, I just really don't and it makes me insane that companies profit from selling us the idea that they're doing a good thing by offering us these products to buy.

My aunt bought those magnets because she genuinely thought it would help. I think sitting with my mom when she was dying was what genuinely helped. I think it's despicable of companies to take advantage of people who want to do good in the world. I think it's despicable that cancer will never have a cure because it's just too profitable the way it is. A friend of a friend just cured his own cancer with a natural remedy that his doctor was legally not allowed to tell him about. He found it on his own and his cancer is gone. But that doesn't make his hospital any money, or the insurance company, or the pharmaceutical company, never mind any of the researchers that work so hard until they get close to a discovery and then disappear. I guarantee you that's a story you'll never hear on Oprah or any other mainstream media.

I hate that companies use the disease that killed my mother to make money. I hate that people who collect for that kind of thing outside the grocery store look at me like a I'm a bad person because I don't donate. I give happily to families struggling under their medical bills because of cancer and inadequate health insurance but I won't give to the industry. I don't need a pink frying pan to remember my mother and her suffering, I never will. And it sucks because I'd love a pink frying pan, ironic.

"dude, I have to see some penguins like right now..."

I'm doing some interview work for a job I really don't want and waiting to go to a funeral I really don't want to go to and there's like no candy at my dad's house. He did offer to go buy me some when I complained about it, which is something I suppose. Matt and I drove down last night and we're going back tonight because my car needs work. It sucks because I wanted to spend time with my family but I have to wait till my car is fixed. I think I'm just in a whiny mood today and should probably suck it up and shut down the computer. The random dying and falling asleep for no reason is only adding to my insanity.

"A psychotic horse toward a burning stable"

I can't seem to get my unemployed ass in gear today. I did my run as usual and since then nothing. I've filed exactly one thing. it's awful, this election hangover. I stayed up too late even though I could have gone to sleep happy after pennsylvania. Even with my predictive map red all over there was no chance for a mccain with without pa. Bless them and their all white meals with white gravy and no vegetables ever, bless them.

So, I drank a soda and ate a kitkat and still no enthusiasm. How disappointing that you can't ingest enthusiasm. You can fly to the moon and elect a black man president and you can't take a pill to get your house clean, shameful.

338 to 163

I'm so relieved, I have no words.

"passed me running, caught me standing still"

This is sort of the middle of the line. The woman next to the bakesale sign voted for Nader last time out of spite. I didn't need to know that, I really didn't.
The line went around the town hall and up a flight of stairs. The stairs were sort of sad because there were lots of old people waiting in line but they seemed to be in good spirits. People kept saying "historic day" and the like. On the stairwell there is this beautiful statue...it's called "hope", which I thought was sort of wonderful and such a happy sign.
This is a better shot of the statue and the line. I'm about 40 minutes into waiting here and things were pretty festive, another 15 minutes and I was back into the sunshine. I'm almost mourning my lack of television. It's going to be a long night.

"condolences on your sudden promotion"

I've been grinding my brains over my internet connection for two days because the cord wasn't pushed far enough into the jack. I would be suicidal if I wasn't so grateful that it's working again. Almost ruined Nablopomo on the third day. That would have been SAD. I unplugged it so I could completely rearrange my house. The bedroom did a 360 except it wasn't a 360...Matt thinks more like 270. Anyway, it's much better this way but probably not worth almost two days internet-less. And Seth from the phone company was very nice and very not sarcastic when the brevity of the problem was revealed. Bless him.

Meanwhile, my mess is a house. It's awful all the stuff I found that I have no idea what to do with. Is there any reason Matt needs every pay stub he's ever received since 1992? Seriously, no. The minute I accidentally burn them you know he'll be all mad about it, sheesh. I've found keys to cars I no longer own, more pens than any person could ever need in a lifetime, and why so many paper clips...WHY? Office supplies come here to die, that's what I've learned.

So this is my new office/bedroom. Since you never saw the old one maybe you're not that impressed. Just think piles upon toppling piles of pay stubs instead of desk-rific orderliness.



I'm starting on the livingroom/kitchen next. Right now that's where all the piles are living. I could take pictures but children might weep. On the upside the cleaning has provided excellent exercise. I think I pledged and wiped about 6 cats worth of fur. Pledge, wipe, walk to the trash...rinse lather and repeat. My next cat is totally going to be furless, or a poodle. However, pledging the floor has rewards when it comes to furries...absolutely no traction with those tufted paws. You just put a catnip toy at the epicenter of slideyness and it's hours of fun. Provided you walk around in socks and end up in traction yourself.

NaBloPoMo

Funny that I'm on the dole just in time for NaBloPoMo...no excuses this month. I'm also just drowning in narcissistic reflection so I'm going to try to not make this the most unreadable month of blogging known to man. I'm gonna try real hard, you betcha. Sorry, I've been watching some Palin clips and it's killing me. I'm dying of alaskan colloquialismitis.

In other news, this is my cat fulfilling her life's ambition to turn everything I own white. If I had bought a blue or say a green computer bag she wouldn't look twice at it, but black...black is her favorite. I'm "this" close to dipping her in nair.

"Oh you mean people with very high IQs and basic reasoning skills?"

This is Matt's breakfast, caramel cinnamon rolls which totally don't need icing but he insists. I made a very large dozen and they're all gone. I might have to break my oven in order to lose any weight while I'm home. Or maybe move it downstairs. On the upside not a single piece of candy was eaten yesterday. 'Course I bought 6 bags in a fit of "oh my god I want trick or treaters" and of course we didn't have a single one. What I'm going to do with the rest of than candy I just don't know. I can slowly feed it to my boyfriend but he's all anti-sugar unless it's been mixed and baked and covered in frosting. A purist he's not.

Yesterday I snapped some photos on my way to mail some resumes. This is a blueberry barren in my hood. See that mountain in the background, that would be my yard. I have some more blueberry pictures, the plants turn with the season just like the trees and the fields are all purple and red and crazy beautiful. More pictures to come.

"Yes, I'd forgotten you're moonlighting as a criminal mastermind now. Got your next heist planned?"

So, Tuesday my Obama sign was stolen again. There was a gentleman who tried to bum cigarettes from Matt's family down the street and they're pretty sure he's the one who stole it. Which is impressive because it was almost as high up the embankment as the new signs and it was raining. I hope he at least sprained his ankle. Today the democratic headquarters were manned by a younger girl dressed a little bit like britney spears in that video with the hitting and she was way calmer than the little old ladies I talked to last time. She gave me a new sign, and another new sign, and a further new sign from a stack of handmade signs that I strongly suspect the grumpy old ladies made. The back of my new sign says "steal my sign, $250 fine" but I went with the "don't steal my rights" side instead. I guess I'm not bitter enough to threaten.

It's been a very long week with no firm plans. Next week I'm going to have to make myself a schedule. It's far too easy to get to 3 o'clock in the afternoon and find that you still haven't taken a shower. I'm still relatively busy with household things that need to be done but I don't want to find that weeks have passed and I've done nothing better than scrub my floor 50 times.

And also, Happy Halloween!

"Say what you want about the porn industry, but they're hard workers."

So uhm, officially unemployed. Not as dramatic as I thought it would be, I always imagined there would be yelling upon my exit. Instead there was crying and it wasn't mine, so that's good. Everyone is asking me "oh, are you ok?" like it's some big surprise. It's been very obvious that things couldn't continue as they are. There's been this big wall with all this writing on it for ages and it was just a matter of time. I might be essential to my boss but only because he's a moron, I didn't actively bring in any money and it's time he took responsibility for his decisions in a more active way.

My first week of unemployment is going pretty well. I'm working on making my house the cleanest it has ever been and I might have a brilliant new career in wreath making. Actually, I have one offer and some resumes to send and I'm eligible for unemployment benefits so it's not the end of the world. It's sort of strange because I really didn't want to work there and I was hoping to be laid off and now it's like "what's next?" and it's not just a theory anymore. So far I am enjoying being home. I expect the crazy won't set in until I've rearranged my furniture a few more times and gained 30 pounds. Or tomorrow, who knows.

Today I have things to bake and floors to scrub and dinner to cook. I'm already off schedule. I can't believe how quickly the time passes, not working makes time fly.

Oooh, California

I'm researching the shipping costs for wreaths and Fed Ex needs zip codes. What is the zip code for California...hmmm...hemmmmm...Duh, use 90210. 90's television comes to the rescue!

"Don't you get on that escalator! And don't you dare get on that subsequent escalator!"

Thinking that a bag of potato chips will make my stomach feel better is just one of the reasons why it's a blessing that I never became a doctor. That and the fainting. My stomach has been killing me all the time lately. Which is obviously the stressy mcstressedness but our florist made the suggestion that I must be pregnant and I hit her, it was pure instinct because I am twelve. Actually, when I was twelve my instinct would have been to pass out on hearing such news (which I totally did on human birth day in life science class and hit my head on a cabinet). Deep down I'm full of antiquated feminine virtue.

So, I feel like crap but it's totally helping my weightloss when I refrain from eating medicinal lay's. Go me. Things are crazy at work with the are we closing and when and will it be forever. I'm brushing up my unemployment knowledge because I'm supposed to be the expert only I have no information. I've gotten used to being left out of the loop and it hardly bothers me anymore. This morning my boss' wife, who is very, very weird, went all crazy hiding a computer screen from me. Which would make more sense if I didn't have complete access to that computer and far more knowledge than her about how technology works. Exhibit A: don't leave your email on screen and logged in when you leave for the day, not to mention the computer left on for no reason, if you want privacy.

It's now saturday and my venezuelan boyfriend called three times while I was out running. When I called him back he said "oh, were you sleeping?" "no, i was running" "oh...running?". I'm too fat to exercise, again. These guys are killing me.

"Darn your sinister attraction."

Whenever I start to lose weight again I fall in love with clothes. This is problematic what with the brokeness but I still have a closet of things I haven't yet worn in every possible combination...ooooh. This whole summer I wore jeans, jeans with holes actually, and t-shirts. I was a fashion disaster. Which was appropriate since everything else was a disaster too. Well, I'm over the whole can't care anymore thing and I'm back into getting dressed. Maybe it was the wedding. I packed something for every possible combination of weather, mood and social activities, I was a dress nazi. Fortunate for the bride who has me to thank for having flip flops that matched her after party dress. How was I the only one who realized there was no way she was going to wear heels for 24 hours straight...seriously. I have a few things that I have fallen in love with that are completely irrelevant to my every day life...pashminas, heels, bags...all in black and completely unnecessary for the life of a rural landscaping manager...but it was a blast to wear them in Philly. There are some heels that are just meant to be seen stepping in to cabs. I wish I'd taken a picture.

I was really excited about dressing down for this job and now I have cravings to dress it up. I wonder if that need has some correlation to my renewed vigor in health and fitness matters. There's certainly no point to earning yourself a new body and wearing ripped jeans and stained t's all the time. Not if you're vain like me anyway. So, clothes. Apparently I bought a few nice things while I wasn't broke and now I'm actually wearing them. Colors even. Amazing. I had been laying off the form fitting shirts since fatness set in but I realize now that was the worst thing to do. Why do we always turn to bulk and layers when that's the worst thing for looking your best? It must be hard coded in the dna, like bears hibernating. So I'm wearing my lacy tank tops and sweater sets and rocking the fit before it gets too cold. I might even wear a skirt this week. Maybe I'll get a marriage proposal out of it.

"Note to self - learn to duck"

I missed what would probably have been a very funny phone call with my sister this morning. I was running when she called and all I got was the message. "Dear Amy, On the upside I have lost a pound but I also lost a cup size. Call me back." Heh. I would very much like to lose a cup size so it's difficult to empathize but I am trying. When I call her back I'm going to tell her about this article I just read that will make her mad at me. Apparently drinking coffee shrinks your breasts. She's going to be seriously displeased. But it also decreases your risk for breast cancer which is a silver lining as long as you think life is better than cleavage. It almost makes me wish I liked coffee. Do you suppose coffee ice cream counts?

I have lost five pounds since returning from the wedding and not a bit of it is cup related. Disappointing. I don't know if it's the stress of losing my job very, very soon or the increased flirting regarding my curves at work but something has gotten under my skin and I just don't care about food anymore. My brain is occupado. Have I mentioned before that the first question all of my workers ask me is whether I'm married? No fail. The Jamaicans, the Guatemalans, the Venezuelans and the one guy from Mexico, they all want to know whether I'm married or not. They ask none of the other women here this question. I checked. So, now that we have an english speaker I asked him why. I had assumed that I must look like a good candidate for a green card or particularly desperate. I had intended to put him on the spot with that question, but we have a good friendship so I wasn't worried. He looked sort of shocked that I would have to ask and he said "because you're so beautiful, like an angel".

I don't know how to take that. I mean, yay, but the pessimist in me is a bit prickly. Also now I have an insatiable flirt telling me how beautiful I am all the time. In spanish. I ought to pen romance novels and give him a writing credit, some of the things he says. So I'm mad at myself for thinking the most negative thing instead of thinking the most positive thing (ie. fat and desperate versus angelic beauty) which I've been doing for a very long time and also for not enjoying positive attention for no good reason. It occurs to me that people won't be crossing streets and holding up traffic just to talk to me (adorable sign holder at construction site, happened this weekend, twice) forever and maybe I should make the most of it and stop being a negative prick...maybe. In short, I feel amazingly positive about myself of late and my body and it rocks. I ran farther than I probably ever have in my life this morning because it felt good and I wanted to rather the usual have to. It's an awesome day, except for the jobless thing.

"I took a small step and there conclusions were"

It is 26 degrees out. Holy shit winter came fast. I spent all day yesterday telling my boys that it's not cold and jesus, 26 degrees in October. I'm a liar, officially. The guys are going to think I'm a made of steel tundra woman who clubs seals for a living and doesn't feel cold. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I had a very nice day yesterday with my new friend and my old friends. We're cutting back crews and some folks are going home, so I forced them all into hugging me after grocery shopping. I felt like the fat auntie with the red lipstick none of the nephews want to get caught by, but they were good sports about my girl need to hug them. I'll have to look up how you say "crazy american, run" in spanish for future reference. It's interesting having a good english speaker in the group, I'm learning more about the guys every day. For instance, they all think I dye my hair because no one as white as me can have hair that dark. Ha! Not so my friends, not so. My hair gets darker and darker and when I dye it I go lighter, touche! An interesting thing to think though, I guess I'm supposed to be blond.

So, I went to the grocery store today and I feel amazingly guilty about every cent I spent and I haven't even been laid off yet. It's fairly inevitable, given the last few days at work, but I'm seriously not ready. As much as I joke to myself about staying home and spending 8 hours a day doing pilates and making cookies I really, really don't want to be broke. I liked being able to buy stuff, I am shallow and I like it that way. I did broke for so long...it sucks. Unemployment schmunemployment. I'm not sure what's worse, this job or no job at all...man that's sad.

"oooh, pictures!"

Nothing to say...blah blah blah. I should have things to say because there's insanity at work and I'm totally losing and not gaining and having a lot of fun with pilates which I always do when I finally get back into and why do I ever stop again...because I'm a masochist. SOOO with the nothing to say, what about a picture? I've never done the before picture thing but I feel like I should because I'm really tired of this back and forth and also I want a marker. A "this is what you really look like" dose of reality and something to compare to when I finally get my shit together. And also my new friend took a pretty good picture, so why not?

"you could always electrify it"

So I went back to the Dem. HQ again to fetch a new sign. The little old ladies were really mad on my behalf. They asked where I lived and we chatted and they're worried there have been a lot of sign thefts. Cute old lady number 1 said "I don't think they know it's illegal to steal these signs" and cute old lady number 2 said "Oh, I think they know it's illegal". I said I was going to barb wire the edges this time. Cute old lady number 3 said "good idea" and then suggested the electricity. She's the third person to make that suggestion. I'm not really going to barbwire it but I want to, it's really hard to find barbwire. I put it at the top of a very steep embankment...so we'll see what happens this time around.

I had lunch with a new friend on Saturday. I have neglected to tell him how much Spanish I understand and he had a very interesting phone conversation while we were out. It would seem I'm "un poco gordita, no mucho". I am a little fat, or chubby, not very. It seemed easier not to comment. He also said I'm 28 so maybe I'll correct him on that one and see if he picks up on it. It was a very fun day anyway and he's not exactly wrong, I am a little fat. I should be glad he didn't elaborate more. Anyway I taught him how to use chopsticks, and we went to a yard sale...where he bought an enrique iglesias cd and we sang "Heroe" in spanish all the way home. It was an awesome saturday.

In the way of not being "gordita" I have done three pilates sessions this week and it's awesome. I'm coughing and hacking still but I can do five perfect teasers so I can't be that sick. I gave my beginners pilates dvd to a girl at work and I can't wait to see what she thinks of it. It would be awesome to have a pilates buddy. Maybe we could take a class and Pbffs forever. Awww!

40 HOURS LATER

I put up my Obama sign Friday night and it was just stolen. Who spends their Sunday morning stealing Obama signs? Matt heard the car door open and close and the culprits drive away but didn't see the car. They're probably on their way to a fundamentalist gun rally. AARGH. I'm so mad, I have no words. Matt is seriously pissed too. Even though he's an independent and the Obama sign was on "my" side of the driveway...he's pissed as hell that someone stole from our property. I'd like to think that maybe they really wanted it for their own lawn and couldn't drag their ass to the dem headquarters but that would be optimistic beyond the call.

"To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase, duh."

Today I marched in to the Hancock Democrats office downtown and said "all my neighbors are republicans, help me" and the nice lady said "don't you hate that?" which I totally do so it was awesome. I have a lawn sign and a bumper sticker that might give my boss a cardiac episode and a pin that says "Hillary supporter for Obama, Disappointed not Delusional". Heh. I'm pretty excited. My mom would be so proud. I'm going to think of her when I put out my Obama/Biden sign at home. One of the last times she left the house before she died was when she put up the Kerry sign. I should probably get a sign for my dad too so mom won't be mad at him in the afterlife.

"Your luggage is in the capable hands of a team of porters."

Sometimes when things happen at work I have to stop and remind myself that this is a real job and not just some dream I'm having where something idiotic goes wrong. One person called out this morning. I am dying of the plague, ie my throat hurts, so I didn't hurry into the office today. At 8 am my boss called me to ask if that person called out today and I said yes, why...Why, because no one else at the office has a key. I mean they're supposed to but they don't have one today...so all our crews and everyone else was standing around outside because of all the people there including two managers no one had a key. Heh, funny. The one key in the vicinity was in the hands of the jamaican cook who lives ACROSS the street and no one could think to go wake him up and get it including his FIVE roommates. It's very lucky that the door was unlocked and they were all gone when I got here because I might have killed them all. And I'm sure prison would aggravate my sore throat...

I have hardly unpacked a thing. Every night has been jam packed with sick grandmas and trips to walmart with guatemalans and tonight I'm baking cookies for the peanut butter king. One of our guatemalan guys is in love with peanut butter, inch think peanut butter sandwich for lunch every day in love with peanut butter, and we sort of missed his birthday so he's getting cookies. I wrote down the wrong day, I feel really bad. He must have thought we didn't care...AWWW. Hopefully the peanut butter cookies will make up for it.

The good thing about being so busy since we got back is that I haven't had time to bake every night. It's been good for me but Matt's over it, he's ready for his regularly scheduled snack having. Matt is right now sneaking cookies and thinking I won't notice...boys!

"I hear the jury's still out on science."

I'm home and I've unpacked exactly one bag. It was the most perfect wedding ever. I can't think of anything more to say than that. It was perfect and now the pressure is off. Unfortunately the pressure is on in so many other ways. Matt's grandma is very sick and has kidney failure and refused dialysis so there's a sense of imminence there. It's really sad and it's also really obvious that she's ready, I just hope his mom handles it ok. There tends to be a bit of drama in that family and the will is going to cause the trouble...I am hoping for the best there. Also, rather less dramatically, the starter in my car died again this morning...after I got to work of course. Poor car. Matt is going to replace it tonight before we drive up to the hospital. He's also going to take out the fuse that makes the bastard beep every time I unlock the doors. Something which I forgot to warn the valet about this weekend...whoops! That must have been awkward.

Things are a bit weird at the moment. I have a lot to catch up on at work and at home and probably won't have much time to do that. My boss really missed me though, which is nice. If we had work I'd feel very secure in my job. While I was gone we had an injury and a resignation by answering machine...so we have a very small crew. I have a feeling we'll be short a bookkeeper soon too which is going to suck. I seriously don't want to be in charge of that. I have enough access to receive accusations of embezzlement as it is and I don't want anymore. Really. Truly. God, I hope he doesn't quit.

Everyone loved my jewelry and shoes and dress and I hope the good folks shopping Ebay do too because that's where it's going next. Is it rude to try and sell your bridesmaid dress the week after the wedding? Are there rules about that sort of thing? I hope not because I can't store it anymore. It was hard enough keeping it fur free before the wedding...I can't keep that up forever. I'd have to shave the meow and I don't see that going well.