Hurricane Irene part deux

I really hope that everyone is okay after Hurricane (not so fucking nice) Irene came through with her PMS-Bitch-Face and made a mess of things. <3

Hurricane Irene

Dear Fellow New Jersey Residents:  

Please stop acting like you've never lived through a storm before.  This is nothing new to us.  We need to prove that, even with things like "The Jersey Shore" that we can handle ourselves with a level of decorum.  Or, to put it more plainly... grow a set, ok?

No Water

No Bread

No Spam.

Suck it up, Peeps!

"Journey to the Past"

^{Indie Ink time, again, Peeps.  This week I was challenged by the most wonderful Jen O. of My Tornado Alley, who in my opinion, is more delicious than a donut.  I, in turn, challenged the Flaming Nyx, who awesomely answered my challenge Here.}

^{"Journey to the Past"}

^{We sat on the edge of the porch, my son and I.  I’ve come to appreciate the time that we have together, to be able to talk freely, and understand that our relationship has evolved over time, from parent and child to friends.  We talked of life, of the old days in the old country, and reality.  After many conversations about philosophy and love and life, I found the courage to share something with my kin, my blood, which, given different outcomes, would have changed our lives forever.}

^{“On my way home, down old Tilley Road, is where I met the love of my life.}

^{I had just come from the market, where my mother had sent me, like she did every week, to pick up the groceries that we’d need for the week.  It was always the same items, too.  I could find them as quick as anything because I now knew the store like the back of my hand.  Spaghetti, fresh mozzarella cheese, some spices, a pound of ground beef, and a bag filled with one carrot, one red onion, celery, a cucumber, and a jar of olives.} 

^{The walk to the market was long, down a winding mountain trail.  Going down to the market wasn’t bad; it was the walk back up that was the pain.  Climbing up the mountain with the groceries under the high noon sun was tiring.  As I was making my ascent up towards the village, I saw her.  She was stumbling up the trail, over the rocks, like she’d never made this trip before.  She was young, seventeen, maybe, and so simply wholesome that you couldn’t help but try and protect her.} 

^{Her chestnut hair blew out behind her like a fan was positioned directly in front of her.  Her dress swayed against her hips, rhythmically.  Her slender legs took deliberate, but tentative steps over the rocky terrain.} 

^{I called to her, but she did not turn.} 

^{I moved faster, hoping to catch up with her, but she held her own.  I was drawn to her; she was my gravitational pull while we trudged the mountain trail together.  She was my sun, my north star, my guiding light.} 

^{She reached the summit before me, and I knew I was going to lose her.} 

^{When I got to the top, she was gone.  I never saw her again.”}

^***

^{My Prompt was : On the way home, down old Tilley Road...} 

Update

Peep this, Peeps!

I received the best phone call last night from a friend, and immediately knew I had to share this with you.

I sat here watching the Giants game, minding my own business, when the phone started singing "Moves like Jagger".  (Whatever, don't even try to judge me... Moves like Jagger is the most awesome song to come out this year. Youtube it and thank me.)  I looked at the caller ID and saw it was Leina, and, knowing she was supposed to be at work, I thought something might be wrong, so I answered, curious.

She immediately started yelling at me.

"Thank God you answered the phone!  I just had your best friend in here and as soon as she opened her mouth, I wanted to kill you.  Why weren't you here to save me like I saved you?"

I had no idea what she was talking about until she clued me in...

"The lady said she was going to China."

Not really the Crazy Lady off to China, but you know... 

OMG PEEPS!  It's the Crazy Lady off to China!  You may remember her from an earlier post (which you can find here).  Leina got the update!

Apparently, she is still training for her Great Wall of China visit with her ancient mother... have no fear, though, she doesn't disappoint in the hilarity department.

She told Leina that she spends too much money (as she's buying coffee) and Leina says, "Isn't that awful when you realize that?"  The lady agrees, but then explains that she spent money for a good reason.  She donated $50 dollars to a woman in Parsippany whose dog needed neurological surgery or it would never walk again...

::shakes my head:::

How does this happen?

::Head Slap::

Yesterday found Sunshine as a stupid person.



Yes, it's true.  It happens, even to the best of us.  (meaning me)

To explain what happened, I first have to go back and explain to you when my moment of clarity happened, and then we can skip back to regular time. All that to just tell you I'm going to start from the beginning.  Forgive me, Peeps, it's been a long day.

Last week, as I was preparing to drive Mormon and his wife, Bad Mormon, to the airport for their vacation to Utah (couldn't make this up if I tried), I stopped at Dunkin Donuts to pick up my new favorite drink, a Hazelnut coffee coolata.  My most loyal followers will know that I live for anything coffee-and-hazelnut flavored, so this was supposed to be a happy trip to make.

Unfortunately, it was here, at my most beloved coffee shop, that I realized how awful human nature really is.

The girl behind the counter looked at me and said "how are you".  No "hi".  No inflection in her voice that made me think she actually knew that she was asking a question, rather than making a statement.  In short...

SHE DIDN'T FUCKING CARE HOW I WAS.

So, then and there, I vowed not to ask anyone "how are you" because we all know that we don't really care what the answer is... we just say it to be polite.  We're sheep.  We do it because other people do it, and we know that they expect us to do it.  But we don't care.

Anywho, so yeah, at work yesterday, as I sat in the dull-but-well-air-conditioned drive thru, I made my mistake.  A lady in a minivan drove up to the first lane and without thinking I just said "hi, how are you?".  THAT will teach me.

She replied with "Horrible.  I just got a ticket."

I said, "Oh, I'm sorry.  That sucks.  I don't really know what to say."

She said "Well, you asked."

I wanted to respond with "DON'T YOU KNOW YOU'RE JUST SUPPOSED TO RESPOND WITH "I'm good, how are you?"?!?!?!?!?!?!" Didn't get the memo, obviously.

::rolls eyes:::
This happen to you, Peeps?

"Perplexed"

Hello Peeps and welcome to the weekend!

I have to admit, I felt pretty bad that I write more to my "Multifaceted" story this week, and with the prompting of my friend Arnold*, I dug deep and pulled out a little more.  For those of you who liked those characters, here they are, a little different, a little skewed, and a little more developed.  I hope you enjoy. 

“Perplexed”
I walked into the kitchen and you would have thought I had stepped into a war zone the way she looked at me with fear blazing in her eyes.  She stood, crouched into a vertical fetal position, armed with a bottle of Windex in one hand and a faded brown flip flop in the other.  If I didn’t know her better, and what she could do to me with that flip flop and Windex, I’d have laughed in her face.

I’m a tough guy, but even I wouldn’t incur the wrath that is she when she feels backed into a corner.  Or, in this case, onto our dining room chair.

The scene is ridiculously hilarious, but more so if you knew just how far she would go to be brave.  She’s so strong, independent, that one might wonder what happened to her to turn her out this way.  She is smart, so smart.  She uses words I’ve never even heard of, much less can pronounce, and she says them with a confidence that lets you know that she means business.  She’s the girl who can fix her own car, her own computer, and her own mistakes.  She doesn’t need anyone’s help or anyone’s pity.  She handles whatever comes at her with finesse and determination.  She can’t be intimidated, provoked, or dissuade from getting what she wants.

She’s no pink-glitter-hugs-and-unicorns kind of girl; she’ll kick your ass if you get in her way.

And yet, here she is, the love of my life, standing on a chair across from our kitchen, about to go to war with cleaning materials and accessories.

“Baby?” I asked, tenderly, uneasy as to how I should proceed with her.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she said, as she started to unfold herself from her attack position.  “I can’t take this.  Where have you been?  Don’t you know it’s your job to ki—aaaah!”
Just as she was about to come down from the chair, I heard a loud screeching sound come from the kitchen, which had her back up on her perch, armed and dangerous.

I recognized the sound but couldn’t place it; it was not where it should be.  I turned to see what it was, and recognized it immediately.

My badass girlfriend was afraid of a cricket.

“Don’t just stand there,” she practically screamed, “get it!”

“Relax…. Seriously…. Relax,” I said, and almost immediately knew this was the wrong thing to say.  Me and my big, unfiltered mouth.

“Relax? Relax? Don’t tell me to relax!”

Uh oh.

“I don’t know who you think you are trying to tell me to relax but I have been here in a god damn panic for nearly an hour trying to figure out what the hell to do with this thing!  I tried to kill it and it jumped up and smacked me clear in the face and I almost had a seizure.  I thought about hiding into the bathroom until it just disappeared but what would I do if it crawled under the door and came in with me!?!  Where would I go then?  Can crickets crawl?  I don’t know, but I can’t take this.  Just help me, okay?”

It’s times like these that I fall for her harder.

“Why don’t you get down from there,” I said, pulling out my wallet and handing her a twenty. “You can leave your weapons with me.  We’ll get your things from the other room, and you can go get us some coffee.  I’ll have everything taken care of by the time that you get back.  Does that sound good?”

What I really want to say to her is "Grow the hell up!  Just because I'm the man doesn't mean I wanna do this any more than you do!  Where are my friggin' rights?"

But, I don't, because let's face it, that'll never work.

Anyway, she's finally coming out of panic-mode.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds great.”

“Good, okay.”

I followed her through the house and walked her to the door, hoping that she wouldn’t have another panic attack in the time it took to gather her crap and get out of the house.  I watched her pull out of the driveway and around the corner before I shut the front door.

I leaned against the door and knew I was in trouble.

I’m petrified of crickets, too.  What the hell am I going to do?

***

I hope you liked this, too.  Arnold wants me to keep going with it, so I'm going to give it more time and effort this week, and maybe I'll have something new for you guys that isn't a rant and rave about stupid people I meet at work.   <3

*Arnold is not actually her name.  But, I find it hilarious, so I go with it. :)

Multifaceted

Indie ink time - I was challenged by Serena who can be found in her bewildered bug lair.  I challenged the lovely Grace, who I guess happened to hate my prompt for her, but mastered it nonetheless.  Check her out here. 

On with the show:
***
"Multifaceted"

I found her standing a top one of our dining room chairs.  I just stood in the door way, shaking my head, waiting to understand the scene unfolding in front of me.

"Baby?" I said, purposefully not asking her what in Jesus H. Christ's name she was doing standing on the chair, her faded brown flip flop being held like a sword.  I know how to finesse these situations; don't laugh, don't overreact, and quietly coax the disastrous story out of her, all while making her feel safe.

The flip flop slowly started to fall as recognition crossed her face, but her guard went right back up when the shrill chirp of one of Mother Nature's creatures came from the next room.  Immediately, I understood.

I shook my head.  Girls.

You see, this makes sense.

My girl is brilliant.  She's smart, she's got her degree in English Literature and she can use big words that make your head spin.  She's brave, enough to stand up to a man almost twice her height and point her finger in his face, telling him where he can put his loud-mouth'd opinion.  She's funny as all hell, and has a smokin' hot body to boot.  She's not one of those "pink, glitter, hugs and unicorns" girls;  she drinks beer, rocks her Converse sneakers and her studded belt, and can swear like a sailor.  She can fix her own car, her own computer, and her own mistakes.

But, it never fails.   Bugs are her downfall.

"Baby, there's a cricket in the kitchen!  Kill it, okay?"

I shake my head again, take the flip flop from her hand and help her off the chair.  She looks at me like I'm the friggin' Messiah, and for a second, I fall even more in love with my bad ass girlfriend.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry."
***

Prompt: Pink glitter hugs and unicorns.

I wasn't really sure where to go with this, and unfortunately this week left me a little pressed for time, so while I do like where this story was going, I know that it isn't even close to being finished.  I hope to maybe write a bit more about these two soon.

Hope you're all not terribly disappointed, especially Serena. <3

Convos with Susie

Susie:  I want to meet the baby.

Val: Why?  You don't like the parents. 

Susie:  But it's family. 

Val: There is a 50% chance that you will not like the child. 

Susie:  Well, I told my mother the reason I want to meet the baby is to make sure that it doesn't look like Alien. 

Val: Oh My God. 

Susie: Is that bad? 

Val: No.

***

Val: You hate her.

Susie:  I don't hate her.  I don't particularly like her, but I don't hate her. 

Val:  Yes you do!  You deleted her on Facebook!

Susie:  No I didn't, you did!

Val:  Oh, right, I did. Oops.

Just a taste.

Hey Peeps.

So much has been going down with me in the last few weeks that I haven’t really had time to post something with merit to the Awesome Blog.  I’d apologize for inconveniencing you all with my lack of attention, but I don’t necessarily think that anyone actually cares about reading this drivel… More likely is accidental and/or pity clicks (unless Biffle is reading this, because she says she checks it everyday… hey Biff!).  My life has gotten so out of control that I don’t even have time to write at home – I’m secretly writing this from the drive thru.  Shhh.

There are so many things to tell you all, but I will try to reel myself in and keep to the highlights.

As per my last post, those of you that follow along with the life of Sunshine will know that her chariot had ceased to pull her (less) fat ass along anymore.  It dropped me off at my job and decided it was done being a productive member of society.  We took Squirt to the doctor (which was a shit show all its own) and they have rendered him useless.  Actually, I think the mechanic’s exact words were ‘this car is unsafe, and I don’t recommend anyone driving it.’  I translated that to mean “death trap”, laughed a little and said “Duh, tell me something I don’t know, buddy.”

He did.  What I didn’t know is that the VW dealer couldn’t figure out why the car wouldn’t start, but he knew that it would cost around two thousand dollars to fix.

:::blank stare:::

HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL NO.

NO NO NO NO NO.

That was a good laugh, I have to admit.  The mechanic must moonlight as a comedian because Oh. My. God. What a joke.

Anywho, so, the father and I went out looking for used cars… We didn’t really have a whole lot of time to be picky and choosy about what we wanted.  We only had a few specifications for the ‘new’ car…

1.)   Must be cheap.
2.)   Must run (without smoke or screeching).
3.)   Must have air conditioning.

That’s it.  However, we probably should have been a bit more specific with our wants because later in the day one dealer really threw us both for a loop.

Car Dealer:  Hey folks, how we doin’?
Dad:   Hey bud, how are ya?
::shakes hands::
Car Dealer: What are you guys looking for?  Maybe I can help point you in the right direction.

(Here is where I’d like to insert my description of the car dealer.  I’m sure in another life he was fantastic, smart, witty, sharp, and non-creepy man.  However, it did not carry over to this life because he was the stereotypical used car dealer… minus the cheesy suit.  The suit might have made him look less creepy.  He wore ripped shorts and a fake-polo with stains on it.  His hair was out of control and his hands were greasy in the same way that little kids’ hands are greasy.  Not good.)

Dad:  We’re looking for a small, affordable car… preferably with low miles… something good on gas.
Car Dealer:  Well, you’re going to pay through the nose on civics and focus’, I’ll tell ya that right now.  What you need is a Chevy Cavalier, or an Impala.
Dad:  Oh, really? Okay, well do you have any that you can show us?
Car Dealer:  I don’t have any in now, but should have some in on Monday.
Dad: We kind of have a time deadline, ya know?
Car Dealer:  Oooook…. Did you want something safe?

…and it’s time to leave.

The man gave my dad his card and as soon as we got into the car, dad handed me the card and said “here, you can pick your teeth with this because we’re never coming here again.”

Best. Ever.


(More about my goings on will be up soon... but in the mean time, fill me in on what you guys are doing. <3)

Splat

I feel like I could punctuate my life based on the number of times I have seen my car on the back of a tow truck. It's a miserable feeling, in case you peeps have never had the circumstance to see it for yourselves.

This past Friday

January 2010

Squirt is hopeless.