So I don't know shit about my car.

This bothers me, on many levels, mostly because I am used to knowing about my car and how it works. When I was married the two cars that we had were little old beaters, a chevette and then a VW Golf, the Golf circa 1989 and the Chevette, 1976. Both were sticks, until this car I had never driven an automatic. Both were rear wheel, (wait, I'm not sure about the golf, but the Chevette definitely was.)

So, the upshot is, with my front wheel automatic there is no room to work on my car. I swear to god, if you told me that there were little gnomes sitting in my automatic transaxle doing all the shifting for me on a miniature stick shift, I would believe it.

Well, maybe not. Point is, I have always done all my own car work, and now I can't cause I don't know a thing about my new car. It's too new. If I had a diagnostic tool growing out of my finger I could plug myself into my car's computer and find out what's wrong, but I don't, and therefore can't, and feel powerless.

Let me tell you, as a woman, there is nothing more empowering then hearing your car make a funny noise, noticing it doing a funny thing, popping the hood, after a little bit of study seeing exactly which part is wrong and fixing it. For the cars I have had in the past, generally this means call a few salvage yards, making a trip out there, pulling the part, a little neato reverse engineering taking the broken part out and you know how to put the "new" part in.

Very simple.

*sigh* and now my air conditioner is broken. I drove home in 105 degree heat today and was MISERABLE. Yeah, at least I'm not sitting on a bus, but those busses were at least air conditioned. . .I'll get used to it, it's in the meantime that I need to get used to it. In the meantime I'm dying, and my friggen power windows are broken in the back which means I can only roll down two windows at a time, and the passenger side is on it's way out. If they all go I won't be able to drive my car at all until one or the other is fixed. Ford that it is, it's 300$ a peice to get the automatic window motors fixed.

I want my chevette, a kick in the tire, some sweet talking and quality time and she would run like a champ. My Taurus is a high maintenance girl, terribly demanding and expensive.

And just for the record, everyone, another grand reason for moving back to Colorado is that instead of feeling obligated to use all my vacation time visiting family, (And lets face it, folks, that's no vacation!) I can now go on REAL vacations and visit whomever I want.

Yes, children, fear. That could be ME knocking on your door.

I am starting to get nervous. I'm finally moving back to Colorado, the only place I ever really am that I don't want to be somewhere else, namely, Colorado, and. . .

Course I'm scared shitless of my family. I'm doing this largely on my own resources, and that helps, but yeah, I'm utterly terrified. We all know the drama that has erupted in the past, and I am scared to death of said drama, and all the heartache it implies.

Thing is, it's the one thing I really still have baggage about. I need to face this one down, if I am ever to move on.

I need to try my hand at the good 'ol html, and I'm not sure if the website I am currently using will accept external linkage. . . lets find out, shall we?



I <3 my new glasses.

So THAT'S what I'm looking like, these days. Arizona has definitely added the freckles. Hannah is starting to get them, now, too. She told me a few days ago that my freckles are jumping off of me and on to her.

Hannah loves the idea of moving. She told me she could make snow angels now, instead of sand angels. She then enumerated for me all the reasons that snow is better then sand. You can make snow men. No sand men. You can throw snow balls. We don't throw sand. Snow doesn't get in your hair like sand does.

The questions regarding her absentee father have become more and more awkward, and while I try and explain as honestly and compassionately as possible, she still feels the lack. It's time for her to be near my little brother, my father and my stepdad, all extraordinary men in their own right.

Even if they do drive me a little batty.

Soooo. . . I finally got the issues I had with my internet connection on my new computer ironed out, and am loving the speed. This thing is a screaming banshee in comparison to my adequate yet ancient laptop.

So Joss is moving to Colorado end of July. For the most part all by her lonesome. I will probably be transferring at work, but if that doesn't seem feasable based on pay in Denver I will work at Echostar where my brother, sister and Dad work, or I can get a job at a UPS store. I know more then I ever wanted to know about the inner workings of UPS.

The motivation is three-fold: Hannah needs to be around family, specifically male family, she will be starting public school soon and the thought of her attending here scares the bejeebers out of me, and finally, I will be going to school with the help of my stepmom, mom and dad. With my little sojourn here in Tucson I apparently have proven myself to my family and they all agree that it is definitely time for me to go to school.

I got a new computer, and have spent the last couple of weeks working all the bugs out of it. IT's an e-machine, and the very first computer I have ever owned that was a virgin, so to speak, that no one had ever owned before me.

I also got new glasses, and portraits taken of Hannah, but I can't seem to find the link that KR set up for me at ljphotodump to download pictures to so y'all can see my gorgeous girl. And my new glasses. All the links were saved in my old laptop, which is now serving a happy third or fourth life for someone else.

Anyway. My life has been boring yet hectic, which is pretty typical of call center work. I have had my nose buried in a book while there lately, the place is junior high with a paycheck.

Ok, more later when I am feeling introspective and deep, but right now all I really really want is a cup of coffee. I don't even own a coffee pot. Where is this urge coming from? I haven't the slightest. I may go make a run to the Dunkin Donuts down the street for coffee.

But it made me laugh. And I have no problem with gay marriages.

The Presidential Prayer Team is currently urging us to: "Pray for the President as he seeks wisdom on how to legally codify the definition of marriage. Pray that it will be according to Biblical principles. With any forces insisting on variant definitions of marriage, pray that God's Word and His standards will be honored by our government." This is true.

Any good religious person believes prayer should be balanced by
action. So here, in support of the Prayer Team's admirable goals, is a proposed Constitutional Amendment codifying marriage entirely on biblical principles:

A. Marriage in the United States shall consist of a union between one man and one or more women. (Gen 29:17-28; II Sam 3:2-5)

B. Marriage shall not impede a man's right to take concubines in addition to his wife or wives. (II Sam 5:13; I Kings 11:3; II Chron 11:21)

C. A marriage shall be considered valid only if the wife is a
virgin. If the wife is not a virgin, she shall be executed. (Deut 22:13-21)

D. Marriage of a believer and a non-believer shall be
forbidden. (Gen 24:3; Num 25:1-9; Ezra 9:12; Neh 10:30)

E. Since marriage is for life, neither this Constitution nor the constitution of any State, nor any state or federal law, shall be construed to permit divorce. (Deut 22:19; Mark 10:9)

F. If a married man dies without children, his brother shall marry the widow. If he refuses to marry his brother's widow or
deliberately does not give her children, he shall pay a fine of one shoe and be otherwise punished in a manner to be determined by law.(Gen. 38:6-10; Deut 25:5-10)

G. In lieu of marriage, if there are no acceptable men in your
town, it is required that you get your dad drunk and have sex with him (even if he had previously offered you up as a sex toy to men young and old), tag-teaming with any sisters you may have. Of course, this rule applies only if you are female. (Gen 19:31-36)

This weekend we are celebrating Hannah's birthday. Last night we went to the mall and she wanted a puppy.

Really wanted a puppy. I really wanted a puppy. I live in an apartment that does not allow dogs, puppy might as well be pony.

We got two baby parakeets. As we were walking back through the mall Hannah and I had to go down an escalator. Hannah has never been on an escalator, and my hands are full of bird boxes, purse and birdcage. We had a mini drama on the escalator. Hannah lacked the decisiveness to step directly on the escalator, and lost a shoe while clinging to my hand screeching madly. People started backing up behind us. Hannah's shoe continued down the escalator sans Hannah.

"My Dora shoe! My Dora shoe! IT will eat my shoe!" We get out of the way of the crowd going down, Hannah sees that no one is eaten and decides that she wants to try again. At the point her shoe is at the base of the escalator and Fawn has retrieved it and is standing at the bottom waiting for us. Hannah finally scoots onto the escalator and promptly sits down, sliding onto the base of escalator at the end like a child sledding.

Of course, after that, all she wanted to do was ride on the escalator.

I have much to much to do today, I had traffic school last weekend, today I must clean my apartment, make a scooby doo cake, and wrap Hannah's presents, in addition to getting her a hair cut. I adore my daughter, but I really could use a day off of life.

I am sitting at work right now. I just finished my final billing assessment. My ex-inlaws came into town Monday night and stayed through Wednesday morning. I prepared by spending the weekend frantically scrubbing anything and everything, then wiping it down with Lysol for good measure. As of Monday afternoon I had a sparkling clean, fresh smelling apartment, my refridgerator had been thoroughly wiped down and scrubbed, and I was ready to dive into billing class, which, alas, started at 2:30 in the afternoon and ran until 11 pm. I get through my first brain numbingly boring day of billing, get out to my car, and realize that I need oil. Off to the gas station, get oil in the car, and I am hustling because I know my inlaws are sitting in the parking lot of my apartment complex waiting for me.

Hop in the car, and I really, really, really have to use the bathroom, and figure since it is so late at night I will go ahead and be a little heavy footed on the drive home.

I got my first speeding ticket ever. 58 in a 40 zone. I feel like a WOMAN.

Anyway, ex inlaws have come and gone, with many glowing words in regards to Hannah's behavior. (Seriously. I swear, I must live in an alternate universe.) I successfully passed the final billing assessment with a perfect score, and I am done with the grueling schedule that has been kicking my ass for the last two months. I now have Saturdays and Sundays off, and work until 5:45. Have I said how excited I am to have a life again? I am terribly excited to have a life again.

I am now safely back on planet earth after hurtling through an atmosphere of too many things to do and not enough time, radio communications have been resumed.

So I have been offered yet ANOTHER promotion at work, and of course I took it, but the silly training classes run from 2:30PM to 11:00 PM, which is stupidlate.

In other news tomorrow night my ex father and stepmother in law will be coming to visit for several days, I have spent most of the morning and a good part of the afternoon in a cleaning frenzy. I scrubbed out my garbage disposal ferchrissakes. But now my kitchen smells fresh and clean, my hands look like a crones, and I have spot treated every dark spot on my carpet. (Not a mean feat, considering I have a three year old.)

I lost my W2s. I feel so stupid. I spent all day Friday running about town trying to get them, I currently have one the other previous place of employment said they would work on it and my current employer gave me a W2 1800 hotline #. Joy.

So my best friend here in Tucson is quickly turning into a guy at work, E. He has a girlfriend, but I'm not romantically interested, and they guy. . .
He's so funny. Hysterical. He's filthy, but somehow he gets away with it. We sit together at work, save each other seats, and the coaches and supervisors actually come and stand by us just to talk to him. Terribly convenient.

On the way home from my errands on Friday we had a discussion involving the dangers of using tennis balls as anal beads, I nearly drove off the road I was laughing so hard. Plus, he's intelligent enough to get all my obscure pop culture references. Anyway, E got promoted the same time I did, and we will be in training class together. A great big silver lining indeed, since my current romantic interest didn't make the class.

Ok, Hannah has been hollering at me as I typed this pretty much from the start, which may have something to do with the disjointed style. Not sure. Off to rescue the kid.

Tonight I pulled a no-brainer. When I came out of work I stood and talked to E. for a while who was waiting for his girlfriend to get out of work, we smoked a bit and then B., this guy from my training class, came out and said his car wasn't working. So after some fiddling with it her realized that his gas gauge was broken and he was out of gas.

E. and myself had been standing around bullshitting for a while, swapping stories about which one of us was more white trash. B. came up and told us he was out of gas, and I, being ever helpful, volunteered the siphon I had in my trunk and told him I would give him some of the gas I had in my tank so he could get to a gas station. E. tagged along for moral support. Well to start, we couldn't get the siphon to work. My gas tank has a very long neck, I guess, and we messed with it for a good half hour, eventually making jokes about who had the most sucking ability, etc. B.'s inlaws showed up with a trailer because they had been called prior to B. realizing that he was simply out of gas. E. takes off with his girlfriend, and I am watching in stupification as B. and his family proceed to fuck his car all up trying to get it on the trailer, and as I am watching, I do something really, really, really stupid. I close my trunk.

Let me say several things, but first and foremost is this: Whoever decided not to put a trunk latch in the front of the car is a moron, because my keys are in my trunk. (see, their fault, not mine! Never mine!) I check to see if my backseat is one of those that folds down, but alas, it has a nice thick firewall that is nonremovable without really messing things up. I think about whether or not a slim jim or coathanger will work on my trunk and decide that no, it most certainly will not.

At this point B. has knocked his muffler completely loose trying to get it on the truck. He cusses out his inlaws for coming, they drive off in a huff. He comes over and starts whining about how he is going to lose his job now because his car is broken, it's all not fair, yatta yatta. I told him I didn't want to hear it. My words were, I think, that he needed to cut back on the drama, think positive, and I'm sure he could come up with something creative. he was miffed that I was so callous, but I had my own crisis to handle. So I called Tucson Fire and Rescue, got the numbers for several lock services and started calling. I finally got some guy to come out and pick the lock on my trunk for forty bucks, and then he followed me to an ATM so I could pay him cash.

I didn't get home until midnight. :( I will retell this story later, it was actually very funny, but I am too tired to articulate the humor.

Saturday night: Rocky Horror Picture Show!

Sparkmatch lives.

http://www.okcupid.com

You can thank me later.

	

	

	

				
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How compatible with me are YOU?

You're The Mists of Avalon!

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

You're obsessed with Camelot in all its forms, from Arthurian legend
to the Kennedy administration. Your favorite movie from childhood was "The Sword in
the Stone". But more than tales of wizardry and Cuban missiles, you've focused on
women. You know that they truly hold all the power. You always wished you could meet
Jackie Kennedy.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

argh. Hannah has a really wet, pleghmy sounding cough. I hate it when she is sick, I'd rather be the one who is sick. Its easier for me to judge the severity of said illness and what steps I need to take to cure it when I'm the one who's sick.

God I love that kid.

I am a post whore today. Nice to have the time to not have a life. I even managed to indulge in my favorite time-killer, online personality tests. I am He-Man. Who knew? By the Power of Grayskull. . . I have the power!

I need to get some Japanese chopsticks for my hair. Those plastic ones that Goody sells at Walmart keep breaking under the weight of my hair. Usually without any warning, in the middle of the day, one will spontaneously snap and a broken end will twick me in the back of the head.

Hmmm. Off to shop online for hairsticks.

Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.

One morning, you wake up, and you realize that while there are things that you would change about yourself, get a better job, get a better education, etc. somewhere along the line, while I was going about the daily business of living, I reached my destination and didn't even realize it.

I don't cry much, anymore. I hardly ever feel the days of quiet desperation, the days when everything seems so pointless and hopeless I can't seem to find a reason to get out of bed. I don't really need anyone anymore. I mean, I appreciate the company and/or help, but I've mastered this life thingy all by myself.

Good lord, I'm an adult.

I just read this on a friend's website, and it struck me as such truth. we all need to remember this, and write daily:

We don't stop to write when life is good
We are too busy enjoying ourselves
Living in the moment.

In the end all we have immortalized is our complaints, our bitterness and frustration.

It is so easy to forget
What was good
What was beautiful
What made us happy
when there is nothing left as a reminder.

This life is a waste if nothing will be remembered except to pity that it is gone.