Speaking as an adult

I think I'm the only 33-year-old alive who can't keep her finances straight. *Sigh* I hate being overdrawn. Again.

It's not like this is the first time it's happened, obviously, but since college, I've had this constant worried feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'm broke or soon will be. I had virtually no debt then since my parents paid for my school, but if I didn't want to live in the dorms - and no one did after freshman year - I had to get a job and pay for my own rent and books. Neither was cheap in my never-having-done-this-before opinion.

Still, it hardly compares to flashing forward to the present where I'm a 'real' adult these days. Apparently, that is what debt and bills and planning for retirement make you.. well, ok, 2 out of 3 isn't bad.. right? I have credit card debt I'm paying off - miniscule to some friends who owe literally ten times more than me and I'll be done next January, the car payment - and get this.. the car is worth $4K less than what I still owe on it.. yeah, nice! - car insurance for said worthless vehicle (If you ever heed ANY advice from me ever, please, for the love of all that's holy, DON'T BUY A FORD!), monthly gym fee, and the ridiculous cell phone package I have that 'saves' me money when I call my friends in BC. The saving part is actually true, tho the plan is still fucking expensive.

Let's not forget besides those bills, I still have to pay to live. Food, toiletries, utilities - gas, water, sewer, garbage, and light - tho since I've moved, we have yet to be billed and we're bracing ourselves to see what that will amount to when it comes in its 2 month increments. But truly you'd think that since I haven't paid utilities since the end of June cuz of all the cluster-fucked living situations I got myself into when I first moved that the benefit of those would be that I would've had some money left over.. and you'd probably be right.. except uh... yeah.. I don't. Um.. must've spent it.. hmm.. damn.

And where, with all of that I'm required to pay, do I find the cash to front the rest of the needed things in life.. like dinners out, wedding and birthday gifts, new clothing and shoes, haircuts and dyes, and you know, general socializing which requires extra money for covers, drinks, and coat checks? I don't.. not really.. and let me tell you how much that sucks.. A LOT! I don't go out nearly as much as I used to when I had a used car that was paid off or before I was laid off like 3 times in a row, which is how I acquired said credit card debt cuz you know.. unemployment really doesn't pay all that much.

When I have money, I spend it. It's that simple. Savings account for rainy days, retirement, Christmas.. uh.. what's that? I don't have one. Yes, I know.. I KNOW.. STUPID! But I don't make that much comparitively to the rest of this area's population from what I understand. Not that they should be put down for what they're making at Microsoft, Boeing, Washington Mutual, etc.. but I have tried to find other things that are more lucrative.. and, at least in my opinion.. having, for example, applied for an open position at the Gates Foundation where you have to KNOW someone to get an interview and I DID and STILL didn't get a call... it's not easy and I feel like what I have I should keep cuz I need it right now. But I realize there's nothing to cushion an unexpected car repair, kitty illness, or even the positive and fun things like *gasp* a vacation! I'm just afraid to have less now by planning for the future cuz as I discovered recently while checking my rights as a renter, I sort of make less than what is considered to be 'low income'. The ceiling for low income is actually $3K more than what I make now.. uh.. yeah. *Sigh*

So, the next RESPONSIBLE step I'm taking is talking to an advisor. Yes! Can you believe it? I'm going to take responsibility for myself instead of calling my mother.. and yes, go ahead.. make fun of me for calling her to bail me out once in a while.. or another friend much more established than me - and you can poke fun there too cuz there are currently two of those I owe more than $100 to cuz they saw the situation, wanted to help, and love me completely unconditionally. But when I've been more financially stable, I've also been the on the receiving end of those could-you-possibly-lend-me-I'm-good-for-it conversations and at that point you have to understand the key to lending any friend money is that you can't expect to be repaid. Not that it's a gift, but if you need that money, I recommend not lending it as it will not come back to you quickly and no one wants a rift that could damage the friendship beyond repair. No, not a good thing.. far from it..

Luckily, and coincidentally I might add, a lovely Fidelity man came by our office to discuss financial planning. He gave us a little survey to fill out that asked us if we'd be interested in .. well, planning, um.. financially.. for ourselves.. and since I can't seem to budget myself well enough to keep my ass in the black, I said yes. Like.. duh. And they called me last week, but I was so busy I haven't called them back.. which will also be remedied tomorrow, first thing, when I get into the office.

Um, hi, Fidelity.. yeah.. can you help me be an adult now? Yeah.. thanks!

Won't you be my neighbor?

Ahh..wilderness! This is my new neighborhood, Madison Park: the forest-in-the-city where scores of yuppies reside. Look it up. That's the definition. The arboretum is down the street and with it come the many soccer moms and their brood, the Microsofties, and the other avid sporty types who run, bike and hike thru the area. Then there is EVERYONE ELSE. Um, yeah, apparently this is like the most popular little get-away being that it's in the middle of the city as opposed to the other two parks, which are on opposing ends - Ballard and West Seattle. Those beaches - and I use that term loosely cuz beaches I know are CLEAN and BEIGE and SOFT rather than so charred from the many bonfires over time that it leaves your feet so black you look like you just washed in coal... not to mention they're strewn with broken glass and slivers of wood that your now APE-LOOKING FEET could injure themselves upon - are a pain to get to and, once there, it's difficult to find parking. And that's the ONLY thing there.. just the beach. Um.. hellooo.. bored now. Yeah, thanks.

So I love it here.. it's pretty damn cute. We've got cafes, a zillion little restaurants, shops, a couple of pubs, and of course, a beach. Ok, I really don't know if there's any sand. In fact, where there should be sand there's um.. grass.. but hey, that's ok cuz who likes sand everywhere? Not me.. nope! I LIKE the grassy beach. Much less cleaning to do afterwards. But clearly, the rest of Seattle likes it too. I should feel sorry for them since they're only temporarily getting away from their isolated/dreary/boring neghborhoods and here I am, lucky enough to be able to walk for a few minutes and I'm in the woods or near the water. So what if there's like a major vehicle thoroughfare running right in front of my house... whatever.. It's cool. I live in Madison Park. Pffffft.. so there!

Now all of us girls are finally moved in.. but you know.. don't think that means we're done with everything. Oh God no. There's recycling for ALL TIME still to be picked up, boxes of why-do-I-own-this? everywhere and trying to find a place to put them, cable or something like it still to be installed as well as a few things left for the property management to address like oh, ALL THE WINDOWS IN THE HOUSE. I was relieved earlier this week when they told me they were all being replaced! See? It pays to be pushy sometimes... it's still 3 weeks out, but hey, progress I tell you!

And we're all very different - Holly, Megan, Carrie and me. I'm trying not to be the mother hen, but as I get older, I'm becoming really obsessive-compulsive. They already leave out dirty silverware after a use, the empty box that contained their frozen dinner, etc.. and those things could start to wear on me, but I just have to remember that I maybe need to friggin relax. I mean of course I don't seem to be bothered by the fact my stuff is still lying about in the living room, dining room, and hallway. Why should that bother anyone? I know.. I'm terribly hypocritical here.. but don't forget, I'm still the one to get us new windows, ok?

The girls are super sweet and funny and responsible and nice and I think it's going to work out here for a while. Plus, they're hilarious when they're drunk cuz you know.. they're all of like 22. Ahh, reminds me of when I was their age.. and much, much more stupid.. but hey, memories!

So we've all had a little time with each other, just starting to get to know everyone's quirks and personalities. Holly and I actually spent an evening out together last week and she got to know mine. Every 5 min before we left I think I said, 'Gimme 5 more min and I'll be ready.' She finally stood at the door of the bathroom and just watched me til I became so damn uncomfortable I had to stop primping.. ok ok! God! Then, on the way to the gas station that's like a block or two from the house, this guy decides to drive his BMW right on top of me. Ohhh.. you know THAT started something. I tapped the brakes and he didn't back off.. tapped again, nada. Ok.. I pulled over right next to the gas station and this is our oh-so-friendly exchange:

Me: What the FUCK are you riding my ass for?!

Dumbass rich guy: You pulled out in front of me!

Me: Oh whatever dude! Get over yourself.. *I pull into gas station thinking that was a brilliant comeback on my part.. right..*

Dumbass rich guy: *pulls into second driveway of gas station and at an angle so I can't get past him*

Holly: *as I'm getting out of the car* Omg.. what are you going to do??

Me: Well, I have to get gas.. what's he gonna do? Yell at me to death? Please..
*to Dumbass rich guy* What do you want?

Dumbass rich guy: You cut me off!

Me: You know, if you don't leave us alone, I'm calling the police. This is harassment.

Dumbass rich guy: Oh call them. Go ahead.

Me: And what are you going to tell them? That you got mad that two little girls pulled out in front of your speeding BMW and you got upset cuz you didn't have time to slow down? That'd be a really interesting story... don't you think?

Dumbass rich guy: *Looking guilty* I wasn't speeding.

Me: *All self-righteous now* Really? Cuz you know it's 30 thru here and that should give you plenty of time to slow down to the legal 2 seconds of space you should've given me instead of riding my ass to make a point. I looked behind me and you were at the top of the hill. If you were going 30, you wouldn't have caught up to me at all.

Dumbass rich guy: But you pulled out in front of me!

Me: Yes, I think I got that part. Look, you look like you're very successful, you have a nice car, plenty of money.. I'm sure there are many things much bigger in life to be upset about than to be hassling me about how I cut you off for the millionth time, ok?

Dumbass rich guy: *starts to repeat himself again - non-interesting rambling*

Me: *cutting off Dumbass rich guy - apparently for the second time in a row* Ok buddy.. listen.. this is the problem. *holding right hand up vertically and to the side* And this is you - getting over the problem. *holding left hand up then jumping it over the right* I'm done with this bullshit.

I walk away to you know, pump the gas I sorta needed.

SO, that was Holly's first big impression of Angel - basically a very bitchy chihuahua when she gets riled.. Oh yeah, I'm not to be messed with. Uh-uh. I have many gay friends. I watch Will & Grace. This is where I get all my good lines so don't be fuckin' with me.. got it?

Me: *embarrassed and shaking like hell* Sorry Holly! That was a bit.. uh.. crazy.

Holly: *laughing* I just thought it was funny!

Great.. now I'm just the entertainment. Pefect!

Come one, come all to Madison Park where Miss D. will happily endure a rash of abuse just so you can see her fiesty reactions! She spits! She breathes fire! She banters condescendingly! You might never again see anything like this if you're smart enough never to drive with her!

Oh c'mon.. I don't bite.. til I know you better. Come on over... the water's fine!

Interim..

Ok people.. I'm trying.. REALLY to find some time to write something new, but it's pretty fucking impossible now.. and you know I really mean it when I have to cuss. Between work - end of the month in telecom means STRESS and trying to recover from the hell that was July.. and you know, maybe a little dating here and there.. *blush* .. chica is working for YOU to get it together. That's right - all 4 (count 'em FOUR) readers of mine. But just so you know, I'm going to need a little longer yet.

In the meantime, please peruse the myriad of other fine blog selections to your immediate right.. no, you're other right... Some of them need readers like you and some of them have more than enough. I don't discriminate. I know any of them will keep you wildly entertained until I clone myself and can be in two places at once.

Hope you're all well and happy!

My big mouth: pros and cons

You may not think so by first glance of my shorter stature (or reading my posts actually) but I'm sort of blunt - sometimes loud, sometimes obnoxious, but to the point. Somewhere in college I found my voice, assertive and defiant, amidst what used to be a naive and shy personality, and, to others' chagrin, haven't stopped using it since.

In my opinion - and I'm only speaking for myself - this is one of my best qualities. For example, the house my roommates and I just moved into had a plethora of issues and because of my oh-so-direct nature, most of these, of which a few were very major according to uh.. the SEATTLE BUILDING CODES, helloooo, were resolved this week. Yes, thank you, no really, don't get up.. please.. ok, well, if you must..

However, and I know you're shocked by this, my candid ways have earned me a negative title a time or two.. or maybe even resulted in the loss of my job once.. or 3 times.. maybe.. just hypothetically, of course. I jokingly term it A.W.A. or Angel With Attitude. And again - sometimes this is a GOOD THING.. but if your job, like mine might've been before, is to work in customer care in really, ANY industry, then there are times when maybe you should.. um.. maybe.. care and I.. well.. didn't. And really, that will only take you so far - like only as far as multiple customer complaints will get you - which is not far at all if you're getting my drift, people. No, it is not.

There are also times when oh, I sort of don't think before I speak and something maybe slightly, for lack of a better term, inappropriate comes out of my mouth for no reason whatsoever.. like the devil has sent his stupidest minion to possess me for the sake of pure entertainment. Like.. Tuesday when I told my boss that the next day I was going to wait in line with the multitudes of rabid fans of the Indigo Girls, most of whom were 'dykes'. Now I'm no homophobe and if you can believe it, I meant this in the best possible way as they certainly ARE rabid fans.. and they most certainly ARE dykes. This has been made clear to me by lesbians themselves who understood my usage and in this particular context. But, it just so happened that well.. my HR/CFO walked by me just as I was uttering this particular word. Um.. yeah, smooooth. Did I get a talking to? Oooooh yeah.. Did he force me to make a somewhat PUBLIC apology to my WHOLE DEPARTMENT yesterday?? Um... yes he did that too. BUT - did I offend ANYONE, including the actual LESBIANS in my office with whom I associate FREELY outside my office?! Surprisingly, no! They were not up in arms! I am not a bigot or gay basher or homo-hater of any kind! Phew.. I was a bit nervous there for a second.. Apparently 'dyke' is a fairly acceptable term, to these women anyway, which I kind of already knew and why I used the word to begin with, but please take my advice - maybe don't utter things like that from your cubicle, ok? Just sayin..

So it shouldn't surprise you that I continue to admire this outspoken trait within myself and that I also continue to use poor judgement when trying to put it to action.. Seriously, Tuesday just got better and better.

I went to my friend, Wazhma's, grand re-opening of her lovely store, Retail Therapy and proceeded to mingle with our other friends and make major purchases of very tiny pieces of jewelry, which I thought I deserved after the most recent week's move. And then I noticed him.. the tall drink of water, the man who could give our children an actual chance at body height taller than 5'3" if we were ever to procreate (well, really, me combined with just about anyone could too, I suppose..). I felt like a 2-year-old fascinated by.. well, whatever fascinates a 2-year-old.. and excitedly uttering the only word it knows.. 'PRETTY!' The guy made me nervous as hell so what else was I supposed to do? And since I couldn't actually produce too many words directed to him, I did the next best thing - drank. It wasn't so bad in the beginning.. over about 4 paper cups of champagne. I made nice, talked to our friends with him amidst fun conversation and chatted here and there. No, it was good until later when we left the store and went to another bar where Miss D + 2 cosmos + already ingested (and carbonated = go to head FASTER) champagne = bad.. and for some reason, I keep forgetting that.

So, you know what I did? No.. I'm sure you don't. This is why I'll tell you and you may learn yet another valuable lesson at my expense. At the end of the night, when he and Wazhma decided to leave and had already walked out of said establishment and were a good TWO BLOCKS UP already, I suddenly was afflicted, AFFLICTED I tell you, with courage to oh.. RUN AFTER HIM. And I hear you saying, 'NO! You didn't!'.. but oooh.. YES, I did! And I thought.. well, hey, I'm taking a chance, pursuing the opportunity given to me to do something.. right?! And I get up there and think ok, I'm here! Do the deed! Get the digits! And it goes something like this:

Me: I shouldn't really let you leave (like he didn't JUST do this) before getting your number.

Him: *stunned-deer-in-headlights look* Am I in trouble?

Me: *totally thrown by this reply* Uuuuuuh.. ?

Him: *still not looking flattered like I TOTALLY thought he would be and really not amused enough either* Well, am I in trouble?

Me: *still stammering* Umm.. noooo.. I'm just asking for your number so um.. I can ask you out sometime.

**Ok.. this is getting really bad now. Any vibe that existed - and there WAS a small one people - is suddenly very very gone.**

Him: *Provides number and very obviously, starts to back away..* Oook.. so.. there.

Me: Um.. yes.. there. Ok.. well, then.. ok. See ya.. *Confused*

Friends back at bar in UNISON: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?!

Me: *Slightly taken aback - when aback can be taken* What, what?! Did I screw it up?!

Andrew: Well, that probably wasn't the best idea..

And they then start to pick my brave overture apart until I wanted to be swallowed up by the very ground on which I am standing. I mean, I've asked guys out before. It has worked on occasion and you know, SOME guys LIKE it! But if you're wondering, um.. no, he hasn't called back yet so there.. pfffffft.. what-ever. HAPPY?!

Obviously, I've not completely honed my skills and sometimes I'm like a puppy who keeps tripping over its big feet with my open-mouth-insert-foot syndrome, but I don't have any regrets. Ok, scratch that. I don't have many regrets. Ugh.. ok, there are regrets, people.. FINE.. but as the saying goes, 'When opportunity knocks..' um.. well, I forget the rest.. but aren't I PRETTY???

Cuss words, conflicts, and capitalizations!

Please stand by for a public service announcement...

I'M DONE MOVING PEOPLE!

This is not a test. There will be no more random internet solicitations for help with lifting large and inanimate pieces of furniture for small amounts of starchy sustinance in food or liquid form as payment. No, really.. it's COMPLETELY DONE! And this equals MUCH REJOICING!! WHOO HOO!

Yes, it's true. I can hardly believe it myself.. I've cleaned, I've packed and moved yet again and it's FINALLY. FUCKING. OVER. And it wasn't easy.. there were moments of frustration and just all out pain from being on my feet so long, words couldn't be combined into proper sentences, much dirt and stink acquired.. but it's at least over.

I took the day off Friday to do as much as I could alone, which let me say, was a lot. I made a good dent but couldn't get any of the big stuff. A friend helped with the bed that night when we then discovered *dun dun dun* um.. wow, this staircase is uh.. really narrow.. and actually.. hmm.. the only way we can fit the mattress upstairs to my room is to push it up vertically thru this 10 inch space - 10 INCHES PEOPLE - which BARELY fit and there was much grunting and heaving and pulling and panting.. and no one said EVER.. was it good for you? No.. that wasn't said at all! I didn't think any further that anything else but beds might have issues.. why didn't I think that? I don't know.. logic was very much not my friend til the next day.. and really I was still debating when the dresser that houses my cute, little pieces of clothing I WEAR would also not fit.. like up the stairs.. to where it should very much BE fitting! Ugh.. note to self: Need new dresser.. like something I have to BUILD from Ikea and um, LEAVE up there forever!

Anyway..

Saturday started to go well. I got up early, picked up one of the very nice friends from Tribe who offered to help, Ben, and then went to pick up many bagels ordered the night before (See? good plan, Angel, gooood plan!) to offer to all the helpers as gourmet and nourishing payment. Also, I took coffee orders.. oh, don't think I didn't.. before people will work in the morning on a dreary, but muggy Saturday for someone who's practically a complete stranger, they must be encouraged with round, flavored carbohydrates and litres of milky caffeinated beverages. And I provided them happily. Yes I did! Then Ben was dropped off to wait for anyone else who might arrive and my friend, Charlie, and I went to pick up the truck.

This is where things started to get ugly - but only on the inside cuz I was NOT about to let very grumpy ASSHOLES ruin my friggin PERFECT moving day.. no no.. I was calm thru the pissiness. It was a miracle cuz I should really warn you, there are PRICKS at Handy Andy. No.. Andy is NOT handy in my opinion.. Andy is a very RUDE guy I think.. if Andy was even there.. and if not, I bet he's just like the rest of his people with crappy attitudes and bad red neck hair.. I'm just betting.. I will not give them advertising tho, not putting a link to any possible website whatsoever. I will just say they are located near 107th on Aurora and they are ABSOLUTE JERKS who are MEAN and SNIDE and don't deserve anyone's money.. and that's fine cuz I will just pay more money for people at U-Haul or Budget to treat me a lot fucking better!

*ahem*

So we walk in and I let them know I have a reservation.. and they, right then, tell me I better have $150 allowable on my debit card as that's the deposit.. Um.. hey, they told me $20. I was very quickly told no, $150 is the right amount - course this guy, a real charmer I might add, also a mumbler and God, I HATE mumblers.. SPEAK THE FUCK UP OK? ANN-UNC-I-ATE already.. geez.. and I just said, 'oh, no one mentioned that when I called in to make the reservations.' Calmly. And Mr. I'm-just-standing-next-to-Mr.-Charmer-but-I-know-EVERYTHING butted in and snapped, 'He JUST told you!' And in my head I said 'Uh.. ok.. everything ok at home Buddy? Failing that anger management course are you?' But I didn't.. however, I had to say something.. HAD to cuz I WORK in customer care and people, that ain't it. So it just came out.. 'Wow, your customer care sucks, doesn't it?' in a very blunt and oh-so-direct-but-again-CALM manner. Mr. Charmer just looked at me and mumbly-like asked me to 'sign here' and then directed me outside to someone who realized consonants were invented for USING.. and gave me keys. Lovely. THANK YOU.. Fuck..

After THAT b.s. - Charlie and I drove both vehicles back and when I walked into the soon-to-be old place, like 15 really great people were sitting around munching on treats and drinking the orange juice and it was a friggin PARTY! I almost did my happy dance and almost, ALMOST forgot about the really MEAN MEAN ASSHOLES at Handy Andy's. And we moved.. they picked up whatever they could find, put it in the truck rather Tetris-like and were actually pretty darn happy about helping. And thus, so was I! And when everything was loaded, I remembered the best part: BEER!

Among items of nourishment to provide to strangers who help you move, beer is the most important item you can't forget. No, you cannot. Seriously.

So the beer was put into a vehicle to be opened at new place amidst all the moving in.. and when we were all finished, or at least, almost and just needed rest, said beer was thusly opened and drank and many 'ahhs' and much lamenting over stupid STUPID Handy Andy and other sad tales of moving woe shared. It was fucking beautiful!

Goodbyes and thank you's were given to all the Tribers who came to my rescue and off I went to the very not so fun place of Handy Andy's to return their lousy truck. Like I was going to STEAL it or something.. like I LIKE to move.. just do it for a fucking LIVING or something.. IDIOTS.. Here's your damn truck back, is what I wanted to say, but I didn't. No, kept it to a minimal 'thank you', uttered as kindly as possible, which I wanted to change to 'fuck you' but they did have my credit card number.

And then - I had to clean. Oh. My. God. I emerged 4 (yes that's FOUR) hours later from the abode in which I lived for 16 (that's SIXTEEN!) days only.. and I told the guys I'll clean the top floor if you do the bottom. Mind you, I have no deposit of which to receive back, so why this insane act of delirium? I don't know. Someone had to.. it was soooooo bad. I'm sure you don't believe me.. but as an example, I had to PRE-SWEEP the kitchen before the actual sweeping happened.. Yes, really.. I'm so not kidding. And there was still the living and dining rooms, the bathroom and all 3 upstairs bedrooms. I didn't clean when I lived there cuz I knew I was only staying a short time and I didn't want to have to do it twice. And maybe there are filthier people out there.. but um, I don't know where.

So the worst part is over.. I think.. um.. maybe.. Holly and I are moved in and still have a ton of unpacking to do, managing the maze of boxes, trying to find the one thing we absolutely need and is buried.. somewhere.. hmm.. not there.. no, not there either.. crap. But there are many many MANY issues with the new house. Oh here let me list them.

1. ANTS - as in EW!
We have an extra room upstairs with a skylight.. it's so cute and funky.. and there's this red dust on the floor just underneath and where's it coming from and OHMYFUCKINGGOD*asIcantgetfarenoughaway*WHATSONTHEWALL?!?! Yeah. Like BIG ones.. just.. crowded around this one corner, hanging out.. Blech!! *shivers*

2. Toilet leak - uh yeah.. the guys changed out some parts.. and maybe didn't like um.. check to see they did it COMPLETELY? It's only a slow leak.. but you know, I'm sorta PAYING for that water now.. hellooo?

and..

3. Oven = not working. This is no shocker. This thing is older than the invention of heat itself. I asked if it worked when we saw the place and was assured a resounding, 'Of course!' And I thought.. hmm.. we'll see. So amidst all the haggling of what they would and wouldn't replace before moving in - the downstairs carpet, no dishwasher, and after both those things WERE actually done, including a brand new sink and new counters we didn't even ask for, which I do appreciate by the way, and I wonder if we were in some crazy opposite world where 'No' means 'Yes', at least where carpet and new appliances are concerned, I am sorta surprised no one thought.. hey.. I bet this oven should hit the road too.. Yeah, not so much.. that would just be crazy talk.

So what do you think little, assertive and sometimes-bitchy-when-the-time-calls-for-it Angel did? I made a list. Ohhhhhh yes I did.. a big one. FOUR pages people - highlighting our favorites 1, 2, and 3 as stated above.. but making sure to say, um.. all these other things, yeah, still kinda important too... like.. um.. soon. And I taped the list onto the management property company's door this morning.

I was told later, 'The guys won't be coming today' by my roommate...

You know what's coming next, don't you? Miss D. is just getting warmed up and the matches are about ready to be lit under someone's ass.. Excuse me, Landmark? Yeah.. we need to talk... now.

God likes voodoo dolls.. no really!

So I think God is out to get me. I just get this feeling I'm not on His 'favorites' list anymore. Maybe not my biggest fan. Yeah, not so much.. I mean, because of my name I have this thing for God, the devil, and all things of that nature. My moniker is just a play off of my name, or the opposite of my name and I don't mean anything by it..really God, NOTHING..it's a joke.. you know jokes, right? And I know I've got a mouth like a sailor, but you'd think, hey, He invented language, He's certainly heard everything under the sun, um.. literally, and God's been around a looooooong time. I'm betting He doesn't shock easily..

But I imagine Him up there, in Heaven, where God is supposed to be, and getting bored with hearing the same old choirs of angels He's heard since oh, the beginning of time, and wondering why the hell the angel Michael doesn't just change it up a bit - add in some funk or some J. Timberlake - he's got some moves you know, but Michael gets snippy when anyone asks for requests. So God is just sitting there, unsatisfied, and then He remembers His voodoo doll. Yes I said it. His voodoo doll. What, you don't think God believes in voodoo? How do you know? He does, ok?! And He calls over St. Peter and shows him this little voodoo doll, which He quickly labels with my name and says, 'Hey Pete, get a load of this!' and then stabs me violently in the nose and throat and you know what? He gives me a cold.. a big ol stinking - well not that I can really smell anything - coughing, aching, sneezing COLD. Meanie.

You'd think with a name like Angel I'd have the best 'in'.. like, forever. Not that He owes me anything.. not saying that, God. Just.. you know, saying.. I mean, we, meaning God and I, should have a special relationship...where He'd look upon me with a fondness like few others, like Jesus, or close to it.. like if Jesus had a baby sister.. or.. something. I mean, 'angel' means messenger of God for chrissakes.. so um.. where are my friggin messages?? Don't tell me it's in this little cold You sent me cuz all THAT clearly says to me is 'hey, better find the Kleenex and the Alka Seltzer Liqui-gels!'

And I'm sure You think this is all very funny.. yeah yeah, I can hear You snickering up there.. You know, You should take that act on the road.. no, really, not kidding. You're hysterical. Seriously.

God knows this is my week of rest.. the only one I've had in ages and you'd think even He would be getting tired of my whining - but um, apparently not. It's getting down to the wire and the days of the LAST MOVE OF MY LIFE this month are quickly approaching - like TOMORROW - and He AFFLICTS me with a friggin cold. Like I don't have a big enough cross to bear or anything! I know, I know.. there's a parable I read once (probably in some Christian related propaganda like oh, in the days I was forced to go to church cuz I was small and didn't know Catholics are um.. hypocritical at best, but that's another story), about a man who prayed to God saying his cross was too heavy and he couldn't bear it any longer. So God, being His loving and compassionate self, answered his prayers and offered the man another cross of his choosing. The man was very relieved, of course. So God took the man to where all the crosses were - possibly blindfolded and to some undisclosed location I'm sure cuz God doesn't want just anyone knowing where the crosses are kept.. cuz then there'd be stealing and black market prices and suddenly crosses would be the thing and Paris Hilton would have to have one.. and that'd be some sort of blasphemy.. or anarchy.. and He'd have to send us swarms of locusts and frog rain and somewhere there'd be a bake sale and a pancake breakfast.. and well, you get the picture.

So, my point.. and I DO have one.. so be quiet.. is that this cute little man is shown the room with all the crosses and sees this tiny one, way in the back corner. He points to it and tells God, 'That one, that's the one I'd like.' God, all parental and understanding, then lays the obvious on the poor sap and tells him, 'That's the one you just brought in.'

Isn't that a wonderful story? Doesn't it just warm your friggin HEART?? Didn't you just learn a BIG lesson right THERE in those LITTLE WORDS?? I know, you did, didn't you? Of course.. cuz God is great and good and kind and loving and omni-allkindsofthings.. and I would agree with ALL of that. Really I do God.. true story! But then why strike me down, right when I'm trying so very hard to pick myself back up, and You pick on the very tiny and cute and big-eyed sweeter than all that's sweet Angel and give me a friggin COLD?? Why? Why?? Right in the middle of all the very very important things I HAVE to do??

[silence]

Yes.. all those were rhetorical.. right..

See? He just gives me the silent treatment thinking that I'll figure it out I guess. It's not like I won't.. cuz it's not like He made me stupid or anything.. just you know, absent-minded sometimes.. and clumsy.. but maybe we need some family counseling to open the lines of communication. Maybe a night of seances or deep entrancing meditation or, I don't know.. maybe TALKING IN TONGUES WITH SNAKES to get thru to Him?? Cuz I tell you, the kicking, screaming, and crying til I'm blue in the face is definitely not working. Yeah, all my usual tactics don't work on God.. I, um, think He can see thru them. Unlike my mother.. whining does wonders with her if I lay the groundwork juuuuust right. Oh, don't look at me like that.. if you only knew my mother - trust me, I'm owed a tad bit of spoiling for some friggin talented whining.

But fear not (cuz I'm sure you were just sitting there, shaking in terror for my very life, right, right), I'm calm, I will not worry, I will prevail, I will TRIUMPH! I uh, sorta have no choice. Tomorrow will come, meds will be swallowed (I swear, that Alka Seltzer Liqui-gel stuff, if you can find it, works like a charm, tho you'll be a tad loopy - but hey, a pain-free noggin and actual BREATHING are good!), and boxes will again be loaded and unloaded, walked up and down 83-THOUSAND stairs and out of and into strange and new and soon-to-be-old places.

And tho irritated by this maddening situation, don't think I'm not grateful for this new place and (crosses fingers) great new roommates and all the yucky that happened that led me to this new and better situation. Really. Soooo thankful! Like BURSTING with heaps and heaps of appreciation! Honest! But um.. God? Yeah, just one thing.. um.. will You please PLEASE, put the doll down now?

The Words Don't Exist

I heard it on the news yesterday morning and didn't really think much of it. Three climbers were killed in a landslide in the North Cascade mountains in an area called Sharkfin Tower about 90 miles northeast of Seattle. There were six of them.. the fourth is still in serious condition with head wounds from the rocks and amazingly, two of them were left completely unscathed. It's sad, but it didn't affect me. I came to work and plowed thru the first part of my morning when I got an email from one of my best friends, Loren. His office was shaken by this very story because one of the climbers killed was the husband of his co-worker and friend, Lori.

I mention this because Saturday Lori, the brunette in the middle, and Loren, along with their other close co-worker, Jenny, went sky diving. It was Jenny's idea, but Lori convinced Loren to do it... and don't they look excited here? This is the 'before' shot. I saw the video - I was nervous for them just watching it - after it was all over! But when he called to tell me that's what they were doing on Saturday I was like.. uh.. are you sure you want to jump out of an airplane??! Hello.. like, THOUSANDS of feet of um.. just AIR below you.. and oh LAND IS VERY FAR DOWN! But he couldn't be persuaded otherwise and I was listed as the 'emergency contact'.. just in case. The agreement was he'd call me afterwards to definitively say that no, in fact, he hadn't died. And yes, phew, they all made it thru, invigorated and proud of themselves as you can see right here. Doesn't Loren look gay boy hot in that suit?!

When he sent me the news yesterday morning, this story I have nothing to do with and which shouldn't really affect me, focused in very fast and I started to cry. All I could think about was this wonderful day three friends had together and how one would have no possible idea she would lose her husband the next day to such a tragedy. I mean, how could she? How could any of us?

When I was 23 I was finishing up my last straggling term in the fall at what is now Southern Oregon University. My friend, Nic, had transferred to Humboldt State in Arcada, California to finish his degree the year before. We'd met my sophomore year and dated a little, but I soon realized he was a bit of a player and we actually later ended up being roommates and much better friends. Our other friends thought it funny cuz they could give him advice or criticism and he'd be fine. But if I did the same thing, didn't matter what I said or how I said it, it had the opposite effect and pissed him off. I could make him mad like nobody else. In my own defense, he usually had the same effect on me. We always made up tho cuz no matter what, we really had a great love for each other as friends in spite of how stubborn we both were. He called me Angelica.. he was the only one who did and it always made me blush.

So one evening, at the end of November, I called Nic to check on him and his roommate answered. He said Nic had gone to Portland for his mother's funeral. I was shocked. He hadn't called to say anything and I was also confused. He and his real mother had always had a tense relationship and when he'd mention her, which wasn't often, I got the feeling he wasn't proud of her. But he adored his step-mother, with whom he was very close. The roommate quickly confirmed it was his real mother who'd been hit by a car and killed while crossing the street and my heart just broke for Nic. I knew this would be really hard for him. He had some unresolved issues with his mom and the one time we met up with her together, I could tell it was awkward for him. I don't know how many of his friends actually met his mother before. I was pretty sure not many. In his opinion, she had made some poor life choices for herself that included drugs, the wrong kind of men, etc. But he had to drop by for some reason and during that we decided to grab some food together. At the table, she called him Nicki and I couldn't help but crack up. It was the cutest thing ever and I could see him soften when she did it tho he quickly told me that I was the only witness to ever hear that and he very clearly didn't want me to repeat it. I knew he loved her, that was obvious. It was just complicated.. like most relationships are..

Nic's roommate said he should be back in about five or six days. For some reason, I asked about his dog, Storm, but the roommate said Nic had left in such a rush, he'd left the dog at home. This struck me as odd cuz he took Storm with him everywhere. I expected him to call on his way home at least and say he was stopping by to crash or say hello quickly since Ashland was on the way south and hoped I could offer some support. But I also knew he was working on a class project - a film in which one of our friends and former roommates, Keith, had participated and Nic needed to get back to finish.

About five or six days later, I did get a call, but it was from Keith. I was so happy to hear from him and since he wasn't living in Ashland anymore either and thought it must be to announce a pending visit. I noticed quickly, after my excited puppy dog greeting, that his voice was somber and he wasn't saying a lot. I asked what was wrong and the next words out of his mouth caused a big earthquake in my little world. He had some bad news to tell me. Nic had been on his way home from Portland after his mother's funeral, just about 25 miles out of Arcada, when he'd fallen asleep at the wheel of his VW van and hit a tree. He died instantly.

What happened after that is hard to describe and you can't understand unless you've lost someone close to you - not that you need to. Everyone goes thru something different. You have no control over the shock that sets in and probably don't even know it has. You feel like you're suddenly under water or in a quicksand sort of air that is holding all your limbs from moving any faster than slow motion. You feel everything and nothing all at once. You can't breathe, but somehow, you are. The auto-pilot feature we're all inherently built with comes in handy in situations like this. I still, of course, asked Keith to repeat what he'd just said as I was certain I'd heard it incorrectly and when he confirmed I wasn't wrong, I think I lost all feeling in my body and just collapsed to the floor. It probably seems like it took a lot of time, but it was all in a matter of seconds.

I don't know if anything can put things in perspective more than death and how it affects your life. Of course, it's a part of life, but it's certainly one of the most difficult obstacles we face, in my opinion. The loss of my friend is certainly not recent, but it binds me in a strange way to others when they lose someone they love, suddenly or not cuz I can relate to it immediately. The sudden ones are harder to understand especially when there was so much more life to be lived for those who are now gone. My friends and I still think if Nic had only taken the dog with him he would've made a few more stops on the way and been more alert.. and probably would've avoided his fatal accident. At his mother's funeral, Nic's father said tho he and Nic's mom didn't work out, the one thing he was grateful to her for was Nic. It's just not fair that 6 days later Nic was gone as well. Absolutely not fair. But I don't know of any better way to be human than to break down during such a loss or to show compassion and offer support to someone who's going thru it. The loss in London, Lori's husband, and also recently, my friend Jody's mother, who suddenly became ill and passed away as well.. to me, this is massive, tho people die every day.. but maybe just recently it's seemed to happen all at once and all I can think of to say is how sorry I am - and that can't possibly encompass everything I mean, but the words simply don't exist.

I think if you love those around you as much as you possibly can, even with all your faults, that's still enough and that's all that should matter.

To Lori, Jody, and all those who've lost someone recently including those in London, my thoughts and prayers go out to you.

Thought process

Ahh.. the calm before the storm.. and here I am trying to actually enjoy the weekend. I even went to a movie! Can you believe it?! No life drama, no fighting amongst people I call friends, no packing, no cleaning - NOTHING. Just drove to a movie with a girlfriend. And NOTHING BAD HAPPENED.

This scares me.

I've been going non-stop for about 3 weeks now. I mean, I'm NEVER this busy or this stressed. Usually, when I run into a string of bad luck, a few incidences seem to indicate a pattern occuring and I think to myself.. ok, hopefully things will turn around for the better soon. I'll get thru this. But this particular string of one thing after another just kept going up til last Tuesday at least when I realized at 5:15pm that I didn't have my car keys.

Let me just say, this car is of the newer sort.. less than 5 years old and with it came some handy beepy reminders to prevent things just like this.. cuz tho I have a sharp memory for the pissy comment you might've said while we were arguing and can recite it word for word and with the correct tone, I will still forget my coffee before heading out the door in the morning.. or my lunch or laptop, etc.. So these beepy reminders are of great necessity and because of them I've never left the lights on or locked the keys in the car - ok, well, almost never. The beepy thing doesn't work if I leave the keys on the passenger seat or half way pulled out of the ignition - like this time. *Sigh*

Upon walking to the lot, I see the keys thru the car window, just mocking me while hanging ever so slightly but firmly in the ignition..where they had been since 8am that morning. Twenty minutes standing around looking like an idiot, two minutes of actual work by the 12-year-old tow driver who came and broke into my car, and $50 later, I was shaking my head going.. stupid stupid stupid..

But you have to understand, I'm SO tired. My memory and motor skills are taking a hit.. it's like watching a car slowly start to malfunction - one light at a time comes on indicating a problem, then another and another.. til it just grinds to a debilitating halt... or, as in my case, til I can barely stand up any longer and my eyes slam shut for 24 full hours as the body rejects doing anything further - thanks for playing, take your lovely consolation prizes at the door, we must really close now, no really, get out.. and I'm horizontal in dreamy unconsciousness.

I mean, work was a joke this week. It was like the special Olympics trying to make it thru with me as the underdog competitor with the most maladies. I was making error after error on the computer at work and I type 85+ wpm.. nothing record breaking, but it's decent and I couldn't seem to find my groove of getting thru emails and simple data entry. I felt like I had two left hands with all thumbs. I multi-task all day with at least 15 to 20 little windows minimized at a time and moving around getting my work done smoothly. So this strange and advanced stage of Alzheimer's I'd suddently been plagued with at 33 uh..sorta threw me. I actually lost my train of thought in the middle of sentences.. like, words just stopped, I forgot what I was saying completely and would receive the strangest looks from my co-workers. At least three times on Wednesday I noticed I'd bring up a window and I'd forget why. I had to keep going back thru my last steps and I watched my productivity plummet to sub-par. I realized I had to consciously battle to get thru the days and when 5pm finally came around on Friday I did my little happy dance - except, only virtually cuz really, there was no way in hell I had any energy to actually stand up and wiggle joyfully - not that I didn't want to, but you can't do the happy dance half-assed.. you understand. I instead opted for a simple and relieved smile and I left the office in exhausted bliss..

On the way home the world couldn't have been more beautiful. I was sitting there thinking of the plans for the weekend and my recent worries: a meeting with an almost entirely broken up friend to see if we can repair things or at least clear the air, brunch with one of the gays of our lives I adore, the ex I had a disagreement with over the phone last week, the fact my most recent ex emailed when I thought he wanted nothing to do with me and trying not to be thrown by the memories that brought back, the fight with a friend in BC over pictures she didn't like but which I didn't have time to delete when I was working to excess and moving at the same time, and oh yeah.. dealing with moving AGAIN and how I'm going to get enough people to help me one more time next weekend, etc.. when I just noticed the sky. One side towards the U-district was the darkest and deepest indigo and from there as my eyes went west, it blended all the way thru to the lighter hues to the most perfect swimming-pool blue-green with the moon just a tiny sliver and I think Venus at an angle just diagonal from it. God.. it was absolutely stunning and I wanted to just sit in that for a moment... I thought you know, things are going to be ok. I have my health, I have enough money to get by, people who love me, and I should be grateful. My heart cracked at the thought of the loss of life in London so recently and how frightened they must be just getting to work and back. I have no troubles compared to that and it humbled me.

I have a small tattoo on my left shoulder that means 'strong heart' in Chinese and it's there for when I go thru times like these - to remind me to stop whining, don't make things bigger than they are or harder than they need to be and I'll be fine. Well.. once I get some sleep, which let me say, is a wonderous thing and is something I plan to get a lot of this weekend. I'll rest and relax to the fullest extent possible without going full on Rumplestiltskin (tho the thought of that is sooooo nice..) and break down the mountain of complications into manageable chunks, dealing with the issues as they come, one at a time.

Bring 'em on.. uh..after my nap, thank you..

Out of the frying pan..and damn, where did I pack that?!

Did I say I hated moving? I think that was a misunderstanding. I love moving! LOVE it!! In fact, I love it SO much, I think I'll continue to do it for the rest of July! Yes I will! Just for fun even! Don't think I won't!

**Please note: All words above are written by yours truly who's gone completely delirious from lack of sleep, lack of respect, lack of power to do ANYTHING about the fact that yes, she will be moving AGAIN and BEFORE THIS MONTH IS OVER - actually, IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!**

I'm crazy. I'm going insane. No really. It's a fun place. Certainly funner (yes I said 'funner' and yes I KNOW it's not grammatically correct - but do you really want to push a crazy person??! I didn't think so.) than real life where I am right now.

I'll try to be brief: New roommate, Sunny, oy - if he wasn't so damn cut and strong I would try to strangle him! Not that I could, being my weak-ass self..but I'm a scrapper - he'd at least have some serious bruises on his shins. But he LIED to the landlady.. LIED! Why do men insist on stretching the truth? It never works.. just be a friggin man already. And I talked to her cuz he kept whining too damn much - such a boy. She dug me, thought I was a quality gal without me having to convince her specifically - I gots skilz yo.. I tell you, she was impressed and tho frustrated with him, satisfied I wasn't playing games with her especially when I told her about my cat, Emma, whom, according to the lease, she DOESN'T ALLOW, not that I knew that, but she gracefully added her to my temp lease she sent later just cuz I'm so friggin great and honest AND she isn't some cold and heartless bitch who throws a girl out on her ass like uh, the day she moves in. *Sigh of relief that THAT is taken care of.. phew!*

NOW.. onto the other issues: The Sunny of said thoughts in my head having to do with strangulation blurts out last night that this oil heating costs so much now having to only split it amongst the three of us. After a bit of discussion, I'm educated, having never lived in a house with oil heating, that the lovely oil providers bill every single month for the oil-giving because apparently, it's FUCKING EXPENSIVE..so they, you know, break it out to make it reasonably affordable. Um.. $125 a month, even in oh SUMMER is what they call AFFORDABLE?! Helloo - will someone take the CRACK away from the skanky and mean scrooges of oil?!

That clinched it for me, besides the fact tho I like this house, there's no storage in the bathroom. Hell, there isn't even a BATHROOM COUNTER! Um, hi, we might've just met, but do I look like a girl who has no toiletries?! Exactly my point.. I need counter space people.. on which to put hair products, their lids, contacts, the toothbrush & paste, and for fucks sake, the hair dryer! Has anyone ever heard of a woman and her NEEDS?! JesusMary&Joseph..where am I?! In Bizarro World?!

The solution? Well, since I have no idea how to keep this brief like I said, I'll tell you. I'm moving again. I know you didn't believe me before cuz I was crazy when I started this.. seriously.. but it's true. On July 15th I will be going to another random place, this time, not so close to the last one - with new roommates I would like to say I have known forever and we're great friends and better roommates.. however, I met them when I went to see the house YESTERDAY and we got to talking, blah blah blah - and I realized today - ohmygod - I SO need to grow up, get a boyfriend who wants to have a life with me and we move in together and get a friggin condo so I DON'T HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS AN-Y-MORE!!!!

But I'm doing it.. moving into this house with these girls and trying to find a fourth for the last room. This new place is quirky - pinkish on the outside with teal colored doors.. and in Madison Park of all places - like hey.. welcome to the upper class neighborhood everyone.. and then there's my house - the one they forgot to turn into a mansion or brick Tudor style, but stands stubbornly, like moi, cuz it's not 'new money' or 'old money' for that matter - just old.. still it's got a charm.

Did I mention it's COMPLETELY TRASHED on the inside? Oh yeah.. forgot that minor detail. The former tenants left so much crap it looks like they realized the cops were getting close and skipped town. Plus, wow.. people are pigs.

The good news - and yes, believe it or not, there's a small amount of good news - the property management company is taking care of all that. YAY! They're also ripping up the carpet in the halls and the living room and putting in..wait for it.. hardwoods, new linoleum in the kitchen, painting the kitchen and painting and carpeting the upstairs bedrooms!! We still have to convince them to put in new carpet in the downstairs rooms cuz the carpet is just tragic.. looks like the stuff underneath carpet, threadbare and bubbly.. just.. EW. And don't think I don't hear you thinking.. uh.. you're giving them money before any of this and you have NO IDEA how these changes, however cheap, will look. And you're right - tho remember, you are talking to a crazy person so .. you know, it should make some sense.. and the other rooms are painted really nicely - it could be really cute (crossing fingers, holding breath, and praying to God, Buddha, Zeus - whomever will listen)..

Ok, I'm simply hoping it all works out cuz when they're done financially raping me for the month - and that's everyone, both the new landlady and the newer new landlady - and I'm done moving for the 36th and a half time after picking up and putting down box after box and climbing stair after stair and my poor hands are done being dry and cracked from all the cleaning of every single sink, floor, and counter there is in the WORLD, and I've lost every friend I know cuz they're tired of being roped in to helping me do this shit to myself over and over and I then have to sign contracts in BLOOD to show I'd NEVER ask them to help me WITH ANYTHING again..it's going to be oh, September when I can AFFORD TO EAT again but it doesn't matter cuz I'm going to get myself the longest full body massage I've EVER had...and then collapse into a week-long nap. God, I can't fucking wait!

No place like home

I thought everything was coming together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like Ben and Jen 2. Like Michael Jackson and acquittals. I mean, I had one person, that's ONE friend people, committed to helping me move Saturday. It seems that moving isn't the thing to do on a projected-to-be beautiful Seattle morning. Who knew? And after what has been a week to top all weeks, a sort of send-me-to-the-mental-hospital-now-cuz-see-how-I'm-stabbing-myself-with-my-pen-cuz-it's-less-painful-than-this-problem-I-have-to-resolve-RIGHT-NOW potpourri of work issues, I thought I saw the proverbial light. I sweetly talked two of my co-workers into bringing their trucks over bright and early, saved myself, at minimum, $50 on a rented truck and did my little happy dance in the hall at 5pm relieved. Boy I was proud of my little eyelash batting.. you really missed a show kids.

I headed out of the office closer to on time than ever this week and that's saying a lot if you knew the kind of week I've had. On the way home, I could barely keep my eyes open and crashed for an hour long power nap once I got there. I woke to the sound of my cell vibrating (it's just the cell people.. keep your minds OUT of the gutter please!) and it was my soon-to-be roommate, Sunny. The short version of his message of bad tidings was that this 5-bedroom house is only leased to 3 people and, after the walk-thru today, the almost-invisible landlady decided to remind him that 3 is the maximum amount of tenants she wants. Seems there was no convincing her that 4 or 5 people could be as responsible and clean and almost exactly just like 3, except, well, not, and she was adamant that only 3 should be living there. After talking to me for a bit, he called her back, courage renewed, and tried to reason with her again.. to no avail. She, of course, had no time to really get into it and is going to call him tomorrow to discuss it further, but I'm guessing she's going to continue to stand her ground and we will all, in short, be fucked.

This..yes..this is definitely a problem. I don't like to move, as is stated very clearly a few times as of late. I can move in - apart from her blocking the access to the doorway - that wouldn't be hard. And, once I'm in, she'd have a difficult time getting me evicted without cause. Seattle is often on the tenant's side when it comes to a lot of rental issues - however, the cost would certainly be more than expected and yours truly needs to save save save - mainly cuz I suck at doing any actual real life saving, but I'm trying to maintain a budget here. AND who the fuck wants to deal with a bitchy landlady every month who doesn't realize she's making money off the people who live there and threatens that very income by being said bitch since uh, we can leave you know.. with only 20 days notice too..duh. Since some people are intent on shooting themselves in the foot, why not just let them? I love watching Darwinism in action, don't you?

So Sunny and I had a talk tonight. Sunny is a sweet guy - really - and you know, a guy. Guy roommate = killer of very small but scary spiders, bbq champion, and general fixer of any small household things broken. I need him. I've only lived with women the last few years and it sucks to throw a bbq party and realize, uh.. who's running the bbq? Three high-pitched 'not me's' later and you're looking at some under-cooked chicken and some irritated friends like.. well, this was probably not the best idea. Besides, the male energy is a nice change. Plus, we don't have to share a bathroom. This is key. Therefore, I proposed after Bitchy Landlady's call tomorrow, hoping she gives in, but if not, that we plan another course of action: finding a new place altogether for us to move into in August. He dug the idea. I told you I was good.

Cross your fingers July moves quickly or I will have nothing more to write about but the pain and anguish of moving forever. Dammit.. now where is that pen with which I can stab myself many, many times..?!

Changes

I hate moving.

Wait. Scratch that.

Hate is not a strong enough word to describe how I feel about moving. I get the same feeling about moving that I do when I have to do math or when someone suggests I garden - Ugh.. my stomach hurts..blech! Pure torture! There's just too much to do, too much clutter and packing and lifting and oh-look-at-this-I-forgot-I-even-had-this sort of discoveries while you clean and pack and then it takes me HOURS people cuz I have no clue what to part with and what to keep.

Aaaaaaaand..I had no idea I was this slovenly! I mean, ok, a little.. my room is hardly organized, but the rest of the house looks clean and happy. Looks can be deceiving tho once you start moving books around and wow, there's so much dust and...ah..ah..ah-choo! Geez! I mean will someone please tell me WHERE I got all these baking goods?! There's bags of sugar and flour, random dried herbs and half-full containers of spices and mini chocolate chips..ooh! I like those! Little gifts and trinkets from random acquaintances who felt obligated to bring some sort of tiny object as a nice gesture to whatever party I was having at the time and grabbed whatever they could quickly, not caring its sole purpose was to collect dust (Note to anyone inclined to buy me gifts: NO journals, NO plants, and NOTHING that collects dust by just oh, sitting there..unless you would like to be my permanent duster.. and in that case, great! But I can't pay you, ok?)..

I ask you, WHAT, in the name of sweet baby Jesus, do I DO with this crap?! I can't re-gift cuz really, trust me, I just wouldn't do that to my worst enemy. Craig's List and Ebay take everything, but I'm too lazy to ship it out if some desperate home-bound clutter-fiend finds within my junk something they couldn't live without for one more second amidst their crammed floor-to-ceiling-with-small-porcelain-clowns filled apartment. Then of course there's Good Will.. but kids, the poor and homeless have enough problems, don't you think? *Sigh*

So it's spring cleaning around the house these days - except for, um.. not. It's June... so whatever, I'm a season behind. I don't set trends people - like this is news or something.. sheesh.

But I'm feeling the tingle of change starting and it makes me happy and nervous - some dread at the ache and pain I will feel in the form of sore muscles on Sunday when, after all the moving I will have just completed, accompanied by much exertion of my girly, and therefore whiny and weak body, I'll have to get oh so friendly with the mop and sponge that comes with the deep cleaning of leaving any comfy little abode cuz unfortunately I have no minions to do my bidding. You'd think with a moniker like the one I've ingeniously given myself that, you know, it'd come with some bonuses like minions or a magic wand.. or at least a really good knife set.. but I didn't think that far ahead. So if you know of any good, unemployed minions, send them my way. Minions might be the wave of the future.. A girl can always use some good minioning.

Moving on, sans minions, I started tossing out old magazines - keeping the Real Simple ones of course cuz hellooo, Real Simple. There's a love you couldn't possibly understand that I have for this magazine.. no, you couldn't. And it's mine and it's sacred. So just be quiet. I bravely got rid of the acquired Lucky and Organic Style mags of which I have great admiration and wishes for being that lucky and yes, that organically styled.. but they are no Real Simple and for that, even tho it was hard and I debated whether or not to look thru them all one last time at oh, midnight last night, just for one little, tiny thing I might've needed, I resisted, closed my eyes, and off to the recycling bin they went. Ooh.. that was tough!

But I have to be honest, cleaning is so therapeutic for me. Starting fresh feels so hopeful. Getting rid of what isn't needed, what may have never been needed in the first place leaves room for surprises and suddenly, what you never knew you needed at all has appeared without you even uttering a simple, whispered-under-your-breath wish and you realize, hey, I really needed that. I can't believe I ever went without it. However, what follows is that nagging feeling of second-guessing myself.. did I throw something away I could've used later? Something I should've cherished a little more? Even if it didn't give me everything I needed - did it need to be discarded? It had a reason for being there, in my little life, I'm sure, even if it was cluttered with the rest of the mess of cd's bought for only one song, the cute candle-y lanterns I honestly have no room for, and my thoughts and fears and loves and dreams and high-strung personality. I'm not really a pack rat per se - I just don't often get rid of things that don't do anything more but take up space and when it's time, those pangs of 'what if's' hover over me relentlessly so I just put off making any decisions about them. Once I do, I'm never sure if I made the right one or not. With all that can be collected in life, how do you determine what is really valuable and worth keeping?

Life shifts. It's a really good thing. Change is necessary. I grow so much because of it, especially when the shifts are difficult.. whether it be changing residences or the shuffle of people who come and go within my life. I inevitably just get thru it - pack things up, move on, out with the old and in with the new - cuz I have no other choice. We wouldn't learn anything if it was easy.. but God, sometimes, I wish life came with some friendly cleaners who swooped in and helped pick up the pieces or at least did the mopping. I've made some really good strides in the last couple of years.. becoming a better, stronger, and smarter person. I know I don't have all the answers, I know I'm not perfect. I think I'm slightly OCD, I can be too emotional or get too attached, I certainly have way too much money invested in too many hair products, and I can be a bit of a control freak, but I'm still proud of myself and what I've accomplished in life. Obviously, there's still more work to be done - namely, contemplating further if pizza and beer are enough of a bribe to coerce my strong, male friends into helping me move the heavy furniture objects on Saturday or if I have to flash them to boot. Crossing my fingers the former will suffice.

Children

I don't think I'm going to have children. My mother is always hopeful and she's getting creative. Once she said to me, "These days, you don't need a man to have a child anymore." Don't you just love that? I love it when Mom tries to be hip. But Gram's comment was priceless. She said she was going to start working on the baby blanket cuz by the time I had a baby, she'd be dead. Sweet isn't she? She also used to tell me, before my 4 1/2 years of braces when I was a bucked-tooth kid, at least I could eat a corn cob thru a knot hole. Ahh.. family. There's nothing like it.

I mention this cuz I'm a very proud auntie. Ok, they're not really blood relatives (I actually fear the day my brother procreates), but they're close enough. They're children of two of my best friends from high school with whom I'm still very close. I LOVE these children. ADORE these wee humans. LAVISH (ok, not lavish.. lavish on my very budgeted single girl's income) gifts upon them just to see their little eyes twinkle with glee. I really should stop this tho, except for the usual birthday and holiday occasions, cuz Erin, Kari's 5-year-old, with a pair of the bluest eyes I've ever seen on a child, looked up at me with anticipation and innocence last weekend when I visited and then ran straight for my car asking if I had any presents for her and her sister, Lauren. Children learn quickly these days.

But they love me right back.. really they do. I'm very famous at their house - aka Auntie Angel. They run around the house and get all excited when they're told I'm coming over. This just makes my knees weak. Why? I don't know. You'd think, for me, it'd only happen with a kiss from 'The One' or at least a really charming Mr. Right Now.. but children are so smart and so tiny and SO FRIGGIN ENDEARING. Erin, hugging me goodbye at the end of one of our visits, said she loved me, as she always does. I asked her how much just teasing her and her reply was, "To the moon and back!" I swear my heart swelled to at least twice its size. I think I was beaming for the rest of the day. Children just have that unconditional loving ability that isn't yet marred or jaded with the fear and rejection we, as adults, have experienced in our growing up. They are still brand new to the world and so incredibly untouched by anything negative outside the home and family in which they're surrounded. They know I'm there to provide when I can, when the mom and dad units aren't available, not that I'm a sufficient substitute, cuz really, nothing compares to Mommy and Daddy for them.. but they understand I have a concrete presence in their lives and they just accept it - accept me - with all of my faults and issues and so-non-mom-ish-ness. It's a humbling feeling.

Last weekend Erin actually requested I come to her dance recital. Now, she's 5.. most of the other children were about 5 or younger. Could you just die? This group isn't hers, but these younger girls were so precious - yes, I said precious cuz really, there's no other word I could possibly use and you'll see what I mean. It's a tad blurry cuz as children do, they were watching their teacher in the wings, waving to their parents in the audience, basically not paying attention as you can clearly see here and ohmygod, aren't they friggin adorable?! And they had very TINY TAP SHOES on people! Ugh.. very little else is cuter! I think these recitals are more for pure entertainment than a show of excellence and improvement. The chuckles amongst the parents, tho proud, were enough to tell me that, but it's still a one-of-a-kind moment.

Now I can't rave about Kari's gorgeous girls without mentioning Megan's as well. She has two also, Stephanie and Rory. Another set of just really pretty children. See, this is what I'm worried about - not that my children would be ugly, but that I couldn't guarantee they'd be this cute - or this well behaved cuz these kids really are good and so smart and so happy. I'm afraid I'd turn into the spawn of Satan as a mother.. when my friends really have it mastered. I feel it's just a much better (not to mention when they're 15, cooler) position to be in as the rockin' auntie they come to when in serious angst as 15-year-olds are wont to do.. when they are wonting, that is..

In the meantime, I live vicariously thru each of my friends and their cute little families. I get my fix at Kari's house at least once a month, sometimes more and I do look forward to it. I haven't seen Megan in oh, ages.. and Kari and Megan see each other even less. Stephanie is less than a year old so neither Kari nor I have met her smiley, little self yet..but we are planning a big reunion at my mom's house in rural Oregon sometime in July. Mom is the most central we can get from the coast where Megan lives and Seattle where Kari and I live. The bonus about this pending visit is that Mom and Gram will get their grandchildren fix as well - even if it's not thru me. Megan, Kari, and I have been friends since sophomore year, almost 20 years - there's no doubt they're family. So now I just have to convince Mom and Gram they already have plenty of grandkids to go around.

A day at the races

Rounding out the end of our weekend away in California, our last day was in Sonoma at the races. We got up VERY early on Sunday - ok, again I got up earlier than everyone cuz my hair has issues (This fact is well established and I don't need to continue to beat it like the dead horse it is.. thank you.). We still got up early and I felt much more rested thanks to the bro, SD, for giving me and AM the futon rather than the slowly flattening air mattress we had the previous night that left our drunk asses lying on the hard-as-hell, minimally-carpeted floor. We hit Starbucks on our way to out and tho it was early and chilly, we'd all become used to wearing multiple layers now so we didn't freeze in SD's travel-in-style-but-with-tornado-like-winds-in-your-face jeep. I hunkered down with my mocha in my hands and my scarf tied tightly 'round my head and imagined how I'd write about this trip on my blog because it was so loud during most of the drive we couldn't hold normal conversations. I sort of sang to myself like I did when I was a wee child - I was pure entertainment, I tell you.. at least in my imagination I was.. Plus, it was too damn early to talk anyway. Needed. Coffee. To. Digest.

We arrived earlier than our last visits to the Sonoma Wine Country Classic and had plenty of time to wander the grounds before the races started around 1pm. All I could think of was food.. all the other kids wanted to do was meander and look at the cars. Um.. hello.. we were at the races.. weren't the cars going to be there like ALL DAY? Ugh..

A few of our other friends arrived soon after and I think they wanted food too. I could see it on their faces and that hungry look in Ann-Marie's eyes, but their words came out completely different and they instead opted to walk the last two loops SD, SD's dad, AM and I just finished so they could see the cars too. Hmph. Why do people lie?

I did have the sun to distract me and it was getting warmer. I'd already changed out of my many layers I'd worn for the drive over so I could absorb as much as possible, and yet, it was still windy. Ok, we were out of the jeep.. and you know, walking.. and not in San Fran so hi, where was the wind coming from? Grrr..

Maybe you can take the tour with me. Here we have the row of Cobras which I love. Very sporty and I wouldn't mind my hair blowing all over if I was driving around in one of these babies. This green Lotus was a funky cool ride and this blue number actually had someone driving around in it, albeit with some really bad hair, but look at how he's actually using the hand brake on the right to stop. People, you know that would never work w/ me.. I'd wear that sucker out so fast..

Then, hallelujah! It was time to head up to the wine tent! Whoo hoo! What?! Don't be shocked.. It was noon. People start drinking at noon on Sunday - I know, I was raised Catholic. And ooh any priest with a drinking problem (and there are many) would've been so thrilled! There was wine galore! And little bits of olives and big hunks of cheese with crackers and ooh the SAUSAGES abounded! This is THE sausage you've been saving yourself for!! Um, I'm not kidding.. see the sign. I mean, it says that's what you've been doing, so uh.. trust me, when you taste it, you'll agree.. Mmmmmm.. And there was goat's milk ice cream and chocolate truffles and I really didn't even barely, well, just one sample, only paid attention cuz we, I mean I, saying I was coming back for 'others', went back for seconds and thirds on the fucking sausage. I'm telling you.. goooooood. In fact I could probably live on Picante's cafe de olla and Saag's sausage..I would even consider moving to California just for those reasons alone. Screw the earthquakes.. they've got sausage!

We ate and drank, drank and ate. SD and Ann-Marie are my documented examples and then, as if slyly trying to get a closer look at SD's share, Ann-Marie leaned in while SD steadied his distance - and, even tho only seconds after my first example, they seem decidedly more drunk here. In their defense (and my own, of which there are no pictures, strategically) there was really no such thing in this wine tasting tent as a tasting. And by that I mean, 1/3 of a glass is so not a taste. Not that I'm complaining about the generosity shown by the lovely and only-getting-lovlier-by-the-glass people in the wine tent, just that this is another reason why I needed more sausage after only having a measly Starbucks scone and mocha at the crack of dawn. Miss D = lightweight, especially on Sunday mornings when I'm usually much more pious and well.. not drunk.

We staggered over to the seats perched right above the first 'S' corner of Sear's Point raceway once the races actually began. This is where the cars come up, just after the starting line and veer a sharp right turn in the last tail of the curve that sometimes leads to spin outs and thus massive ooh's and ahh's by the crowd when the driver skillfully doesn't smash himself to bits. Everyone claps. It's very classy and no one spills their wine while doing so. You should see it. It's impressive. You can see our very exciting and perfect view where we were for the majority of the rest of the afternoon - well, when we were actually there and not back at the wine tent getting more 'tastes'. I think AM ventured back more than anyone. I assume he may have even gotten himself lost a couple of times, wandering around in his tipsy state with his phone glued to his ear as befitted him that weekend, his 'P is for Porn' t-shirt he wore every day and his very gay rockstar sunglasses I helped him pick out. Oh don't get me started.. you should've seen the ones he wanted to buy.. Even for a stark-raving metrosexual, his first pick crossed a line.. I saved him some serious mockery tho he refuses to acknowledge it.

After the races, we headed back to Oakland, to SD's little garage in the ghetto, all bundled up in the jeep, satisfied and sun-kissed - a little more than I wanted, but not nearly as badly burned as I was last year. I wish I had pictures of that. I looked like a Thanksgiving Day turkey just two days after we returned - dark brown, peeling and crispy on the outside and, right underneath, all tender and baby pink on the inside. Ouch! See, I don't burn.. almost never, but I underestimated the power of global warming and that oh, the sun in Seattle is vastly different than the sun in California.. it's like we're on completely different planets. And I might've neglected to use ANY sunscreen. In retrospect, yeah, that was pretty stupid and probably one of the most painful things I think I've ever done to myself. But hey, the tan that evolved has never left.. seriously, still there.

We said our goodbyes to SD and watched him drive off as we dragged our bags and wine boxes, safeguarded by me like a newly-acquired treasure chest, into the airport to check in. I've already mentioned the rest of the evening turned into the perfect illustration of why AM and I don't date anymore as frustrations quickly built up with each other during walks thru security, lines at the Southwest gate, and just simply getting off the plane in a timely manner.. *sigh* but I'm still very happy we took the trip. Mainly cuz I have lots of fodder by which to taunt him relentlessly and the pictures to prove it.. and oh yeah, vacations ROCK!

Reach out and touch someone

My friend, AM, says he's not a phone guy. These are his words exactly. He's said them many times in response to my complaints about when we talk on the phone that he a) sounds distracted, b) monotone, and c) will only use one word sentences like 'yeah', 'huh', and 'ok'. The other factor is that he's ALWAYS on the phone and when I see this while in his actual presence, he's not only using more than one word for sentence creation, he's animated and jovial as well and you know, sort of initiating conversation points.. It amazes me, this ability to just deny he's even capable of doing these things with a straight face..but he can be very convincing so once in a while I believe him. Not anymore..

Let me first explain the history of my California tripping that I've been writing about lately. A few years ago, I needed a gigantic boost of happy, some time away, a VACATION.. Yes, I know.. what a concept.. I just don't take them often tho. And the faux bro, SD, suggested I come down for a visit to see him in Oakland and heighten my mood with a little southern light therapy. I really needed to run away at the time, but SD wanted to combine this visit with a little trip to the races in Sonoma, something he was very interested in. Now, I have no interest in cars - old ones, expensive ones or otherwise - not really, but SD was building a GT40 in his little garage in the ghetto and since he's been such a good friend over the years, I thought I should see what this race car thing was all about..

Our plan, besides touring San Fran a little, was to hit Sonoma for their annual Wine Country Classic at Sear's Point raceway. I had such a blast on that trip that we'd decided to do this every year since. Last year, we changed it up a bit and invited AM, the ex-boyfriend I met SD thru, because he loves cars just as much as SD does. They've known each other since high school, but since SD left Seattle, they don't see each other unless SD and his dad are stopping by on the way to or back from Whistler. I also thought it would be cool to do the trip with AM as we don't get a lot of friend time either - even tho he is only like 3 miles away. Don't ask, I've tried and tried.. it's hard to be him and be so popular.. I'm sure (you can almost hear my eyes rolling.. can't you?).

Last year's trip was.. well, let's just say, sucky. Scott and I had a great time, but AM misunderstood the whole point of me asking him on the trip, which was for us to have some quality time together, and thus he invited his then girlfriend. Now, the gf was beautiful and sweet, but she had the self-esteem of trembling willow. It was so bad it prevented her from really and truly comprehending what you were saying to her since she ran it thru some quirky (and if by quirky you think I mean completely whacked, you are very insightful..) internal translation device in her psyche that drastically changed any harmless comment you made about the weather into some devastatingly insult-like information about her fragile relationship with AM. Seriously. You could tell her you loved her shoes and she'd run to AM and tell him you just said AM thought she was fat. I wish I was exaggerating.

I'll give you an example. We all met at a friend's vocal group performance in the city once. Before it even started, AM had some allergic reaction to the food there and had to leave early without the gf - but she was obviously still feeling neglected after and wanted my advice on whether she should go out with another guy friend of hers in an obvious attempt to try to make him jealous, but saying she no longer wanted to wait for him that evening. I told her yes, she should go out and have fun. What would be the big deal? That's simply all I said. I was told later, she ended up calling him, in tears I believe, and accused him of not loving her because, as she understood it, I'd told her from what I knew they weren't even together. Now, I knew they were on and off, but I didn't actually know they'd just labeled themselves and were exclusive.. however, this STILL had NOTHING to do with what transpired in ACTUAL WORDS between her and me. And you can imagine the strain of this which started to show in my existing relationship with AM, someone whom I used to date and with whom I've worked very hard to maintain a solid friendship. I had no choice but to distance myself from any acquaintance of his significant other, also known to me as 'that psycho bitch' and told him as much. I think he sympathized, but we both wanted him to be happy so he was going to keep at it - certainly I wished him as much luck as possible (cuz he seemed to need it).. BUT this is what I was faced with knowing she would be coming with him and my weekend would be colored with the stress of watching what I said ALL the time and trying to restrain myself from throttling the life out of her.. *sigh*

LUCKILY FOR HER.. I didn't have to. She made the choice at the last minute not to join us. AM, of course, was pissed at me for making it difficult on both of them, while I, of course, was pissed at him for being pissed at me since he was dating someone CRAZY anyway AND invited her without talking to me first. So the weekend was very tense, to say the least. We barely talked during, before, or after mostly cuz he spent the EN-TIRE weekend talking to her on his cell phone which drove us all mad, and they broke up eventually anyway cuz even if she was extremely hot, I think the pscyho bits finally got to him. This is my theory.. I really have no idea.. mostly, cuz I was thrilled and distracted by the never-having-to-worry-about-dealing-with-her-anymore part... Oops..did I say that outloud?

THIS year, it was stated, VERY CLEARLY and RIGHT AWAY that there would be no accompaniment by anyone AM was dating, leading on, or simply, sleeping with in any way.

He did, however, still bring his fucking cell phone.

I would like now to turn your attention to the state's evidence against AM and his many historical statements of just not being 'a phone guy'. Even with only the two pictures here, you can see, clearly - with the phone resting comfortably against his right ear, the sunglasses on for mastery in avoiding icy come-hither glares sent his way during dinners and wine tastings to let him know he should end his conversation sooner, rather than later, with Mr.- or Ms.-much-more-important-than-his-friends-he-was-with, and the distance away from the camera showing he was not actually with us while talking cuz that would, you know, be rude - that this is an obvious pattern of behavior. Just examine, if you will, example 1 and example 2 and you tell me if he doesn't seem like oh, the complete opposite of 'not a phone guy'... I think you'll see what I'm saying..

Unfortunately, this isn't something I can control or correct about AM. I can mention it to him, choose to ignore it, and hell, I can WRITE about it, which gives me a very devylish tickle inside cuz he does deserve to get shit for this, but ultimately, this is something that he told me point blank will not change, especially if it's business related. Of course anyone who knows me knows I'm no good at ignoring such things well and it drives me all kinds of insane that he continues to do this. He doesn't seem to understand that in two little days people who aren't 'business related' and think they MUST talk to him RIGHT THIS INSTANT are probably not having any sort of life crisis and, more importantly, will survive if left to their own communicative devices til he returns. Yet, he STILL ANSWERS THE PHONE! Um.. will someone tell me why MY calls go to voicemail?! On second thought, please don't.. I know already..

What I absolutley loved tho is while the plane was actually in the air each time, AM was forced to turn the phone off. I actually had a lengthy and guaranteed amount of time he didn't have the phone to his ear. Thank God for the small miracles of flight regulations! So we had a few nice moments together especially since he brought his dvd player and movies to go with so we could at least pass the time entertained. I mean, there are people you just can't travel with and he's not one of these people. He's very low maintenance actually despite having to put up with all his phone distractions. I can't say we didn't fight at the end - as we always seem to do at the end of these types of journeys, be it this year's weekend trip to California or .. well.. uh.. last year's weekend trip to California, but we have a lot of history together and some minor resentments that never go away.. Still we get over it and move on. Doesn't mean I don't want to throw that goddamn phone in the nearest fucking river and maybe smack some SENSE into him.. (he'd hit me back tho, much harder and honestly, I bruise rather easily), but at least I finally got him to admit that yes, he definitely is a phone guy. And that's all I needed to hear.

Wine not approved by God

Have you ever seen those books entitled Conversations with God? They come in parts I, II, & III and are written by a man I'm sure is very nice and thinks God, or some sort of force he calls God, has spoken to him and chosen him as one of his marketing people. I actually have a couple of these books and I like the idea - I've got a faith, but I don't go to church. God knows where I am and He's ok with that. Recovering Catholic, people.. 12-step program. I'm not saying this guy is crazy or anything.. but I'm not preaching either.. My whole point, which I'm sure you're waiting for me to get to - sigh - is, in one of these books, God, for lack of a better term that's what I'll call Him, tells the author - and I'm so summarizing here cuz I haven't picked up the book in ages since I think I've given up on the possibility of sainthood and plan on burning away happily in Hell, that he didn't make the human body able to consume alcohol. Don't blame me - it says so in the book so it must be true - according to this god who's talking to the author anyway. I don't recall that God says specifically if alcohol is bad or a sin or what.. I think He just says he didn't create the human body for the purpose to consume such things.

Well.. THAT sucks.

My argument against such an idea would be if God didn't agree with the consumption of alcohol, why give us free will to come up with such a great idea to make it in the first place? OR, better yet..He could've prevented the whole grapes and hops stuff from even existing. I mean, He is God.. right? And if there was no wine, there'd be no 'cup of the blood of Christ' to sip from at any Catholic church service on Sundays.. and if you weren't raised Catholic, you have no appreciation for this tiny little bit of fun hypocrisy the under-21 set get to have IN CHURCH. I know it's only a sip of wine..but when your 10 it's very cool.

So can you imagine if there was no wine?? Well, there'd be no bit of fun for the 10-year-olds near the end of church to look forward to.. AND since it's supposed to be symbolic for the blood of Christ, I mean, who knows.. they'd probably have you drink actual blood or something literal like that. I'm doubting there are many fans of that idea and all the other religions would see an influx in their memberships I'm sure as the masses (no pun intended) ran screaming from Catholicism and the new pope and his peeps would have some serious damage control on their hands...

What I'm saying is sure, this guy could've talked to God and all he wrote in his book could be true.. I just lean to 'not so much' on the just-say-no-to-wine part.. And amen to that! Because Lord - if it's wrong, I don't want to be right..

We started out early on Saturday morning in Oakland - ok, rephrase - I started out early cuz my morning regimen takes a fucking long time. I know people.. it's ridiculous.. I KNOW..but it can't be helped. So after all the men finished their whole 10 minutes in and out, we were off to my favorite little spot for breakfast called Picante where they have THE BEST COFFEE EVER. Seriously. It's called cafe de olla and it tastes like Christmas with all its cinnamon, brown sugar, and clove-y goodness.. I could bathe in it... it's like an ORGASM in a cup.. not kidding..

Ok ok, enough with the coffee..

We sped off in the jeep and had a little less miserable ride because it was starting to warm up and we were well out of the city limits of foggy and cold San Fran. Plus, I took a little 'olla' to go.. mmmm..Thank you Jesus for that!

Driving.. driving.. driving.. toll bridge.. God I'm bored.. and I'm deaf.. driving.. and we're there.. sorta. We pass the race track we'd be heading to the next day and continue past that to find the first winery we would hit. We, of course, didn't have any clue which one.. just sorta drove til the mood struck us. I gotta say, I was mostly struck by how beautful the area was.. herons flying around, lush hills due to the late rains recently and wow, did it ever smell good out there. You can see the view from the first winery of which I can't remember the name here. I mean.. can't you just smell the green and the flowers and the clean? Ugh.. LOVE it! And the first tastings started with champagnes and I thought once I win the lottery, I'm just going to spend the rest of my life doing this.. that and going to Picante for coffee.. I mean seriously, it's SO good!

At some point early in the drive, we see this. This is a real tree people. Covered in... yeah, no clue what. Whatever it is is greenish-blue and ball-like. We couldn't get close enough to see exactly and there was only one tree like it. Isn't it freaky cool tho? We called it the Dr. Seuss tree cuz, well, I'm sure you can see why. And we had no idea what this signified at all.. we just thought it was cool, hence the stopping on the side of the road and the taking of pictures.

Then SD couldn't stop.. he just kept driving and driving.. I think he really wanted to find somewhere good, God love him.. but I mean, as most wineries closed by 5 or 5:30, we needed to get crackin' cuz by then it was close to 2. So I tell him the next winery no matter what is where we're stopping and he agreed. Gotta love the power of the sisterly threats..

The very next one was St. Francis (Again - if the saints were drinking wine, do you really think God didn't want us to have it? I'm very confused..). See SD and Dad headed into the winery here. And oh yeah, St. Francis himself here (See? He drank and the animals STILL loved him!). The place was so beautiful. The wines..well, the words being thrown around to describe them were 'astringent' and 'acidic' and 'sucks', which is a technical term if you haven't done much wine tasting, but wow did the girl helping us have whiter-than-white teeth. I noticed that much. I'm betting they all get a whitening discount or something.. I should've asked. Damn.

After that, we started picking places by name. SD decided Blackstone Winery was the next one and of all the places we hit, even the group tasting at the races the next day, this was everyone's favorite. AND the tasting was FREE, well, except for the reserves we had - which were fucking amazing. I mean, yum! So we bought an obscene amount of wine for an obscene amount of money and really, that was ok with us. I think it was especially ok for the guy doing the tasting - Mr. Butt-Rock Guy of Sonoma. He was very cool.. but so Metallica-rocks kind of guy it was just funny to us. But hell, we were drunk so who knew what was really funny by then.

*Note for everyone ready to comment on the drinking AND driving - uh.. we WEREN'T doing that. SD was designated and was very careful not to taste too much. Ok? So don't even start!*

I have to say now, AM and I were not doing well. I'm such a lightweight and AM has the tolerance of a 12-year-old girl anyway, but in his defense, we hadn't eaten since 11am. I had to convince SD to stop at the market or else AM, since he was sitting behind me, would be graced with a not so friendly regurgitated cafe de olla and the rest of my breakfast.. We grabbed some chevre and some tasty water crackers and proceeded to our next stop, munching away.

Chateau St. Jean, another place named after a SAINT people.. was the most picturesque place outside of Italy - and I'm just guessing cuz I've only seen Italy in the movies cuz I'm a dolt and have no money ok.. cut me some slack. I know beautiful tho and this and this are..ugh.. beau-tee. Right? Right.. so shut up. I know what I'm talking about. The wines? Oh yeah.. eh.. pffft.

Lots of time has passed now and most places are closing. So we hit one last one on the way out called Stone Creek Winery. Unfortunately, it doesn't really exist anymore. They sold it to some bigger winery and I don't remember the name cuz I was too busy tasting the other wines and loving, LOVING the champagne! Only small amounts of this Stone Creek champagne are left we were told so we all had to get some. It was lovely, especially at $18 a bottle. I also discovered a very sexy chocolate merlot sauce I couldn't fucking resist. Mmm.. made me think dirty..

By the time we got home, I really was dirty and oh, FREEZING. More thoughts of jumping into canyons of fire and that sort of thing during the drive in the jeep and planning Survivor-like alliances with AM for next year when we fucking RENT A CAR! Or just get so blitzed-out-of-our-minds drunk we pass out and don't notice.

Other than that, the wine tasting was really fun and a huge success! We didn't drive drunk, we didn't make fools of ourselves - ok AM did when he brought the cheese and crackers INTO Chateau St. Jean and was eating right out of the brown bag - and ok, I had some too - so even if God didn't really approve maybe St. Francis will put a good word in for me..