Friday, September 28, 2007

Mental Feeding Frenzy

Holy crap. It's been so long since I wrote a new chapter for Twisted (Tink), I forgot how difficult it is writing from scratch. It's much easier when you're simply making revisions. So for those of you who are still following along with the story, the next chapter is out! It's currently titleless. So if you come up with something good, let me know.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: It's been one month since I've had a cigarette.
Hoop: That's so awesome, babe. You're doing so good!
Tink: Do you know how I would like to celebrate?
Hoop: How?
Tink: By having a cigarette.
Hoop: How about a nice healthy smoothie instead?
Tink: *Groan*
Hoop: Then we'll go for a nice healthy walk and discuss the benefits of vinegar.
Tink: I hate you.

P.S. Don't forget, the
WWC words for this week are COMMON and RARE.

P.P.S. I promise to get around to everyone's blogs this weekend. If I don't, you can, uh... Name my first born. There. I think that's more than fair!

Have a great weekend!

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Thursday, September 27, 2007

The Replacement

It's one of those days. The kind of day that drops you off at work, bleary eyed and incoherent. You don't remember the drive to work. You're wondering if perhaps you teleported in your sleep and if you did, why HERE? You shuffle your way through loud coworkers and people nagging you for things to your friend. Your friend the coffee pot. "Hello friend." "Hello addict." You turn it on, which is considerably harder than turning Hoop on, and wait. You wait. You wait. Suddenly you realize, nothing is happening.

Sometime in the middle of the night, when no one was around to care, the coffee pot died peacefully in its sleep. But like an irrational relative at the deathbed, you try to revive it. You jiggle it around and moan, "Please! Please, don't go." Then your coworker walks in. "It's dead!" You tell her pitifully, showing her your coffee grind covered hand as proof. "Now what am I going to do?" The coworker sighs and walks over to the machine. But instead of joining in on the death wail, she reaches over and plugs it in.

"You're really a dip shit in the morning, you know that?"

"It's ALIVE!"

"Make me a cup while you're at it and I won't tell anyone."

I don't know where my brain has gone, but it certainly isn't here. It hasn't been here for awhile. Maybe it's in Aruba somewhere. Lucky bastard. My days are spent in a blur. Get up. Drive to work. Fuck off. Do something productive. Fuck off. Drive home. Make dinner. Eat dinner. Do dishes. Work on computer. Think about working on the house but then watch TV and fall asleep instead. I took on the blog to avoid boredom at my dead-end job. Then I took on writing a story to avoid boredom on the blog. Then I took on projects to avoid the writers block I had from the story. Now my interest has been renewed in all of them and I don't have time!

I quit smoking to be supportive of my Mom and now she's become such a health nut I can't stand talking to her. Every casual discussion turns into some big lecture about the benefits of walking or the importance of fiber. I can't comment about the smell of bacon without her breaking into some long winded speech on how my smell receptors have started working again now that I don't smoke. The other day Papa Bear called me, freaked out, because Mom had started drinking apple vinegar. When I mentioned it to her she got defensive. "It's not just for horses ya know!" "OK, I believe you." Weird-o.

I don't miss smoking. I have cravings still. Most of them only last two minutes. Some last two hours. But I don't really miss the act of having a cigarette. What I miss is the social interaction. I don't sit at lunch with my coworkers anymore. I don't hang out with my friends. They all smoke. I don't feel comfortable going out to a bar or club. I can't sneak off with my Mom to bitch about our lives. Hoop and I don't relax outside. Now I park at the mall at lunch so I can read, away from temptation. Hoop goes outside alone. We spend our weekend doing things inside. Safe.

The strangest part about all of this is, I spent the majority of the year trying to give purpose to my life. I did everything I could to make it better. Now I don't even recognize the girl in the mirror anymore. She's regretful, a feeling I've never felt before. She regrets the house. She resents being healthier. She feels the boy took too long to ask. She gave up on the job and stopped thinking about school. She doesn't get crazy anymore. I can't decide if she's boring or bored. She's like a dozen other girls I passed on the way here. So I've made a decision. As of the first of next year, I'm kicking her out.

I just don't know what I'm replacing her with yet.

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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Weekly Words Challenge 2!

The words for this week were Urban and Country.

How did you interpret them?



(Random Week Pictures)

Late Bloomers

Bug Eyes

I look like I have a sideburn on my left side... Or a really hairy ear.

The words for next week are:


If you haven't joined the fun, go
here for the rules.

Weekend Recap:
1. I have been smoke-free for 3 weeks, 3 days, 17 hours, 12 minutes, and 9 seconds! I have not smoked 494 cigarettes and saved myself $92.38.
2. As a reward, I ordered an expensive import techno CD I've been wanting for awhile. It arrived on Monday.
3. Then my stereo ate it. The stereo I got two birthdays ago and only got to play ten times before I had to pack it.
4. So Hoop and I carefully took the stereo apart and slid the CD out, only to find that the CD was too deeply scratched to play. I hadn't even gotten a chance to listen to it yet!
5. Thus,
Shiterella was born.
6. Friday, Hoop and I went and saw
Resident Evil: Extinction.

REVIEW: I've heard a lot of complaints about this movie. "The sound effects were too overpowering." "There's no plot." "It lacks sophistication." Sophistication?! It's a ZOMBIE movie! You're not going to leave the theater thinking, "Wow. That was really profound." There are unliving humans walking around eating people. Period. If you like gore and neat visuals, go check this out. Hoop and I give this movie three out of five sporks.

7. Saturday we laid around doing nothing. At one point in the day I caught the movie
Rockula on TV. But only because I was too lazy to find the remote.

REVIEW: A born-again-virgin vampire tries to reunite with his lady love, who dies each lifetime at the age of 22 by the hand (er, ham bone?) of a pirate with a rhinestone peg leg. As if that weren't weird enough, this movie is a musical. Despite the bizarre plot, the huge 80's hair, and the cheesy songs, I LIKED it. I gave it three out of five sporks. Hoop gives it nothing, since he refused to watch it.

Not Far From The Tree:
Tink: My house is like an old grumpy person that doesn't want to change.
Mom: Maybe it's just sick.
Tink: Maybe.
Mom: It DOES have bugs in it's walls. How do you feel when you have a cold?
Tink: Miserable.
Mom: Do you want anybody messing with you, even if all they're trying to do is make you feel better?
Tink: No. But what do you do about a sick house?
Mom: We should hire you one of those people that talks to houses!
Tink: An exorcist?
Mom: No. One of those house whisperer people.

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Monday, September 24, 2007

Grimy's Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, in a kingdom just south of Jacksonville, there lived a princess strong independent female by the name of Shiterella. Shiterella was blessed in many ways. She was a pretty girl, with a decent job and a loving family. There was just one problem...

Everything Shiterella touched turned to poo. No matter how hard she tried, anything Shiterella owned succumbed to the curse. Neither her chariot nor the slightly used castle she got on sale were able to resist, and transformed overnight into big stinking piles of goo.

So one day Shiterella realized what she must do. She pointed her finger and touched her nose. POOF! On the ground, where once Shiterella had been, was a perfectly formed mound of doo. There she remained, until one day Shiterella's luck changed.

Into town waltzed a prince brave and noble man. He heard the tale of the woman with the shitty curse and came to make things right. You see, this man was gifted with the ability of fixing things. Everything he touched turned to new (or at least passable).

So he stuck his finger in that pile of dung and Shiterella was magically transformed back into her previous self. It was love at first sight. And so it went... For everything Shiterella turned to poo, her man was able to turn it back. Nothing was ever perfect. But it wasn't shitty either.

The End.

(Thank you Hoop for fixing my stereo... and the CD... and my AC... the dish washer... the baseboards... and my self esteem. I loves ya baby.)


Friday, September 21, 2007

The World's Gone Mad

Most of you have already heard about Andrew Meyer, the man who was tased during a Kerry convention on Monday. Because it happened not far from where I live, it seems to be the center of discussion. Everyone has an opinion. Most are of the mind that Mr. Meyer deserved what he got. I do not. I'm not defending his character, mind you. He seems like a complete idiot. But you can't tell me the SIX officers arresting him had no other recourse but to tase him.

A taser, no matter the intention of the device, is still a weapon. Each officer is told before being issued a taser that he or she should only use it if they feel their life is threatened. Yet officers seem to be using the weapon, all over the United States, for circumstances that are not life threatening. Almost, rather, as an easy way to end a situation or as a display of power.
Last year in Jacksonville, a woman in a wheelchair was tased ten times. She DIED. The officers justified their actions by explaining that the woman had a hammer and two knives on her.

So they electrocuted her. Because that's what you're basically doing when you send electricity through someone bound to a metal chair. Or how about the
Ohio woman who was tased while wearing handcuffs? Did she pose a threat? Yesterday, officers in California tased an autistic kid because he was running in and out of traffic. What would have happened if the boy had been shocked to the ground just as a car was coming? How about the 70 year old woman who got a broken nose and hauled off to jail because her lawn was dry?

This lack of judgement and compassion isn't just in our police system. It's throughout our entire justice system. Back in June there was a
judge who banned the words "rape" and "sexual assault" in a sexual assault case against one Pamir Safi. Because the victim was limited on how she could describe the events, she believes the pauses and breaks in her testimony hurt her credibility with the court. It was a hung jury. That's the message we're sending out. Not "If you do wrong you will be punished!" but "If you are wronged we're going to humiliate you for it." What the fuck?

I'm sick of the news. I'm tired of hearing about people in positions of power abusing people who aren't. I know they keep telling me that we live in a "free" country. It flashes up all over the place in bold red, white, and blue. But I don't FEEL free. I feel restricted, and angry, and scared. I'm sick of sitting like sheep. Aren't you? Haven't you noticed it too? Where are the people supposed to go when the protectors turn on them? Because if you haven't thought about it yet, you need to.

For Something A Little Lighter: Check out
Rex, a mentally disabled music savant. This young boy is proof that there is still wonder and beauty in this world. (Link has been fixed)

P.S. Don't forget, the
WWC words for this week are URBAN and COUNTRY.

Have a great weekend!

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Thursday, September 20, 2007

Double The Filling

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: I got you a present.
Tink: You did? What is it?
Hoop: It's a surprise.
Tink: Is it bigger than a bread box?
Hoop: I don't know how big a bread box is, babe.
Tink: Can I fit it in my mouth?
Hoop: No.
Tink: Can I wear it?
Hoop: I'm sure you could make something with it to wear.
Tink: Did you find it on the street?
Hoop: NO. Believe it or not, I actually exchanged currency for it.
Tink: Is it white?
Hoop: It has white on it.
Tink: What other colors are on it?
Hoop: All the colors of the rainbow.
Tink: Crayons!
Hoop: No.
Tink: *Whispers* Is it sexy clothes?
Hoop: I already said you can't wear it.
Tink: Oh. Can I play with it?
Hoop: You can play with what comes in it.
Tink: Is it alive?
Hoop: No.
Tink: So it's dead?
Hoop: What?
Tink: Do you like it?
Hoop: Yes.... and no.
Tink: Hm.
Hoop: Why don't you just wait and see when we get home?
Tink: Is it bigger than the dog?
Hoop: *Sigh*

Not Far From The Tree:
Tink: I just got the neatest care package EVER.
Mom: From who?
Newt and Nettie!
Mom: Aw.
Tink: I'll have to send you a picture. It's so cool. There's all this Tink stuff and things to eat and do to keep me from smoking...
Mom: It's good to have a support network, huh?
Big Bit: They sent you all that stuff because you quit smoking?! That's it. I'm going to start smoking just so I can quit and all of you can buy me stuff.

Around The Water Cooler:
Tink: Do you want a piece of gum?
Coworker: No, thank you.
Tink: Yes you do.
Coworker: I'm pretty sure I don't.
Tink: It's really good gum!
Coworker: Oh-kay. I guess I'll take one.
Tink: ...
Coworker: Why are you staring at me?
Tink: Is it tingling?
Coworker: TINGLING?
Tink: Yeah.
Coworker: NO. Is it supposed to?
Tink: Damn false advertisement.
Coworker: You're freaking me out.
Tink: Hey Tom! Do you want a piece of gum?
Coworker: I'm spitting this out now.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
Tink: I had a dream last night that I punched Jay in the nuts.
Cynical Bastard?
Tink: Yeah.
Hoop: WHY?
Tink: We were all on a scavenger hunt and he was blocking the last item. But it's OK. It didn't seem to hurt him too bad. He was laughing about it afterward. Then we went to his house and there was a pagan party going on. A PAGAN party. I thought that was kind of weird.
Hoop: Wow, babe.
Tink: The good news is, Jay had a girlfriend. She was really cute too. Hopefully that made up for me punching him in the nuts.

Daily Hoop Conversation 3:
(While standing in line at McDonalds)
Hoop: Is your name Hannah?
Little Girl: How did you know?!
Hoop: I'm psychic!
Little Girl: *Look of shock*
(It was printed on the back of her shirt)
Hannah: I saved you a seat.
Tink: Thanks, Hannah.
Hannah: Do you wanna play a game?
Hoop: Sure!
Hannah: Ok. I'm going to tell you a letter and you're going to tell me what comes next. A!
Tink: B.
Hannah: C!
Hoop: H.
Hannah: Nope. Here, I'll whisper it to you. *Whispers* D.
Hoop: D.
Tink: Hey! That's not fair.
Hannah: E! Here, I'll whisper it to you. *Whispers* G.
Tink: G.
Hannah: WRONG!
Tink: I think this game is rigged.
Hoop: Hannah, you're going to make an EXCELLENT game show host one day.

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Wednesday, September 19, 2007

All Hands On The Poop Deck

Ahoy matey!

Me name's Cap'n Tink. Today be
"Talk Like a Pirate Day!" Arrrr! So unless ye be a bilge-sucking blaggard, get out ye rum and ale and sing me a shanty. We've no room for landlubbers here. Unless ye wish to meet yer end feeding tha fish in tha briny deep, by flog or plank or keelhaul. Put away yer cutlass, dog. Pour another round of grog! Grab the nearest wench or broad. For pirates we be. Yo ho!

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Did you shake the rug for me?
Hoop: Like a baby.

In The News:
(This shit just blows my mind)

Police Question Armless Man In Neighbor's Death
September 18, 2007

SNELLVILLE, Ga. -- Police questioned an armless man Monday about the death of his neighbor. Relatives of Charles Keith Teer, 47, claim he died after the armless man head-butted and kicked Teer during a fight. The two men lived across the street from each other on Pine Street in the Atlanta suburb. Teer's relatives told police the men were arguing over a woman.

Teer's sister said the armless man attacked her brother. "They got into a big confrontation, a verbal confrontation and a fist fight and he came after my brother, he came will full force, and head butted him as hard as he could," said Lynn Elliot. She said Teer collapsed and died a short time after the fight. Police questioned the armless neighbor, and will decide by Tuesday afternoon if any charges will be filed.

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Weekly Words Challenge!

(Also known as, "The Invasion Of The Long-Ways Pictures)

The words for this week were Change and Color.

How did you interpret them?


We found this table at Goodwill for $7!

The wood was in good shape. But the stain had been weathered off.

We're not done yet. But I'm very happy with the change.


(Random Week Pictures)

Quit Bugging Me

Mushroom Staircase

Banana Flower

Holey Tree

My Name Is...

Surfer Hoop

The words for next week are...


If you haven't joined the fun, go
here for the rules.


Friday, September 14, 2007


I waited my whole life for him.

But expecting good things out of my Father was like waiting for rain in the desert.

It wasn't until I turned twenty-two that I realized I was going to die of thirst. So I turned my back on him, the man who forever promised water. I shamed him so thoroughly that he wiped himself from the map, destroyed every road that might lead him back. With him gone, I drank up everything around me. I nearly drowned in the pursuit of something more. I eventually found it, that fullness I craved. But it didn't stop me from thinking about him, wondering...

Was he the one waiting now?

Monday: The story of what happened on the last night I saw my Dad. Until then, some happy memories of him.

UPDATE: Post can be found

No More Meat: I was barely three when my Dad started working at the steel mill. He was proud of that job. It was the first decent one he'd had since going to jail. He talked about that place long after he got fired. About the man who lost his face in some freak accident, and the numerous fingers that went missing in the machinery. The thing I'll always associate with that place though is a McDonald's pancake breakfast. It had to do with one of my Dad's favorite stories.

He was taking me to the steel mill one morning so he could pick up his check. It was out in the country somewhere, so he stopped for breakfast on the way. We were halfway to the mill when he looked over at my syrupy face and saw that I'd eaten all my sausage. "No more meat, Daddy." I said sadly. "You ate it all, sweetie." He replied. I threw my hands up in the air as if to say "I don't know where it went" and started to cry. He told me he'd get me more once we were back in town. It wasn't like me to cry. "No more meat?" I sniffled. "No, baby."

He said I didn't make another peep, I just sat there looking at my empty plate. So my Dad did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled the truck around and drove all the way back into town. He always liked to end the story with, "So I got you a stack of sausage this big!" His hands would be about a foot apart, although the size grew with each telling. "Did I eat it all?" I would ask. "I can't remember," he would say. Because it didn't matter. I had won his heart that day.

Little Foreman: Growing up, my Dad owned a fence company. I used to love to watch him work. First he would measure the yard. Then he would set the string. He or one of his workers would come in and dig holes. Another person would set the posts and cement them in. My job was always to make sure they were level at the end. In the meantime, I would sit on the piles of wood or metal and color. Every once in awhile my Dad would go off to get lunch and leave me in charge.

I'm sure it was a sight, a kid no older than eight giving orders to full grown men. The guys loved it. They were like family. "Faster!" I would shout as they moved supplies. "Make sure that's straight!" "Yes foreman," they would reply. Then my Dad would come back and ask me in the most serious tone, "Were the men well behaved?" With a straight face I would tell him that they were (or weren't depending on my mood). It was the best job I've ever had.

Twisted (Tink) has been updated with its final revised chapter, "Strange Coincidences." From here on out, everything will be new! About damn time, huh? For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, "Twisted" is a side project/story I've been working on for over a year now. You should go check it out. Let me know what you think. Comments, critiques, and kudos are always welcome. Tomato throwing is not.

P.S. Don't forget, the WWC words for this weekend are CHANGE and COLOR.

Have a fantastic weekend!

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Thursday, September 13, 2007

Better Than The Dog's Balls

Sunshine, the Queen of all things sparkly (including thongs!), passed out awards on Tuesday morning. Don't get too close. You might get a hairball.

This is the closest thing I'll ever have to a cat, since Hoop is allergic. But the next time he pisses me off, I'm going to rub this bad boy all over myself and then hug him.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: Quit grabbing my boobs!
Hoop: Why?
Tink: Because they're my boobs!
Hoop: No they're not. They're MY boobs.
Tink: Fine. You can have one boob.
Hoop: Just one?
Tink: Do you want the right or the left?
Hoop: Um... The left.
Tink: That settled?
Hoop: *Fondles boob* Uh-huh.

Hoop Quote Of The Day:
I don't have to take this. I'm going to go play with my boob.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
Tink: So have you named it yet?
Hoop: Named what?
Tink: Your boob.
Hoop: No, I guess I haven't thought about it.
Tink: Well you should.
Hoop: How about... Floppy.
Tink: *blink*
Hoop: Jiggly?

Spam Subjects:
(In the order I received them)
Careful, you're being watched By who?
From the desk of Mr Cabiru Bello That dirty bastard.
This one exploded on the scene today
What?! Oh wait. Nevermind.
Sheesh man, what were you thinkin I thought you said he exploded on his screen today. EW.

Tomorrow: If work doesn't bury me further, the last revised chapter for
Twisted (Tink) before the new ones start up again.

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Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Passing The Torch

Odd Mix has decided to take a break from blogging for awhile. In his absence, he's asked me to continue hosting the WWC. Not to be confused with the WWE or the WWF, which is wrestling. The only thing you'll find me wrestling is the lid off an ice cream container, and possibly my jeans when I'm done eating it.

The WWC, or "Weekly Words Challenge", is a photo meme. So it will require a camera of some sort... and fingers. Creativity is a plus, but experience is not required. Each Tuesday I will post two words. The following Tuesday, everyone will post the picture(s) they have taken to reflect their interpretation of the word(s). When your pictures are up on your blog, come here and comment so people can run over to ooh and ahh.

Those who choose not to participate will have their fingers sporked. Ok, I'm lying. But seriously folks, why wouldn't you want to? It's fun, it's free, AND it's good marketing... Odd Mix has also graciously given me the freedom to change the contest as I see fit. At first I juggled with the thought of strip-photography, but how would we know who's really playing?

My other idea was to start tallying points, one for each time someone posts pictures. When the person reaches seven points, they get to choose the next week's words. Eh, eh? We'll see where it goes. For now I'll leave Odd Mix's baby alone, lest he come back and tell me I'm not allowed to babysit anymore. Which would just be humiliating.

Next Week's Words Are:

Weekend Recap:
1. I am swamped at work this week. So the weekend recap is going to be kind of skimpy. I'll give you the abbreviated version instead.
2. I have been smoke-free for 1 week, 3 days, 20 hours, 27 minutes, and 54 seconds. I have not smoked 217 cigarettes and saved myself a whopping $40.58!
3. Friday Night Hoop and I went to an art walk. We spent the majority of the evening in silence. I was having a weak moment on the quitting front, which made me resent the fact that he still smokes. Hoop was too tired for my attitude, which made him resent the fact that I'm not smoking.
4. The night ended with a really long walk on the beach. Despite the fact that Hoop and I love each other very much, we've been dealing with an unbelievable amount of stress over the last year. Friday night we both reached our breaking point and discussed whether breaking up was the best solution.
5. Fortunately, we decided against it.
6. Saturday I went shopping with my Mom and when I came home I saw that Hoop had diligently hung pictures, fixed the dishwasher, did laundry, and attached the baseboards while I was gone.
7. How could I still be mad at him?
8. Sunday we went to a local state park to swim. Only, the lake turned out to be a dirty pond filled with snapping turtles. So I only waded in a little bit and made sure to flap my arms around a lot.
9. The spring fed creek was lovely though.
10. On the way back we stopped for sushi. Usually Hoop and I stick to what we know (and like), which is eel. But this time we decided to try some salmon, white fish, and raw squid.
11. The salmon was wonderful. The white fish was so-so. The squid- Well, I'll never know. Hoop took a bite and spit it right back out, which pretty much cured me from EVER wanting to try it.
12. I'll have mine fried from now on, please.

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Friday, September 07, 2007

Neverending Stories

Hoop and my second date was spent on a porch carving pumpkins. We drank beer and discussed scars. I told him about the one over my eyebrow, where I dove off a couch at age two and collided with the corner of a brass table. He showed me where his gallbladder had been removed. We talked for hours that night, proving our mortality and giving lobotomies to pumpkins. By the second pumpkin we had moved on to first loves and life stories, but only the funny parts. The parts we weren't so proud of could wait until later on.

Eventually, many many dates later, we started sharing stories about last lovers instead of first. I can't remember how many nights were spent on the beach confessing past transgressions, knee deep in salty water. I remember being worried that I might say something that would cause him not to love me. He worried too. Funny, even in love we're self absorbed. The first six months of our relationship were exhausting. So there was a comfort in realizing after a year that there was nothing left to tell. The stories about the past had bled into the stories of here and now.

I stashed away my naked soul and happily moved on to the next phase of our life. You know, actually living. I gained five pounds and stopped wearing make-up on the weekends. Once we weren't worried about sounding like perverts, sex got kinkier. "You want me to do what? Ok!" Hoop stopped worrying about morning breath and I stopped pretending to like breakfast. My grocery list started including things only Hoop would eat. Stories would routinely begin, "Did I ever tell you about-?" and end with the other person saying, "-Only about a dozen times."

You get to the point where you believe you know everything you can about the other person. You know all the stories worth knowing, all the lovely quirks and habits, every fault line and fracture. Until one day the other person says, "That reminds me of the time I tried to walk to school and I got lost." "What?" "You know, I was in Pre-K." "No." "Then some guy picked me up because I was wandering all by myself in the country." "What?!" "I never told you this story?" "I think I would have remembered it." "Huh. That's weird. I thought I'd told you all my stories." "Me too."

Apparently, Hoop's Mom had gotten him out the door late that morning and he'd missed the car pool. Not wanting to get in trouble, Hoop decided to walk to school. Only, he had no idea where it was. So he set out in a direction and hoped it was the correct one. About ten miles later, in the middle of the country on a dirt road, a man in a truck stopped him. "What's your name?" "Hoop." "What school do you go to, Hoop?" Hoop shrugged. Not many four year olds can name their school. So the man picked him up and deposited him at the nearest elementary.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the right school. "What's your name?" The lady at the front desk asked. "Hoop." "What school do you go to, Hoop?" Hoop shrugged. So the woman called around to all the elementary schools in the area until she found the correct one. "I bet your Mom was worried." "She was when I finally told her about it." "That reminds me of the time I was almost run over." "What?" "I never told you that story?" "NO." "Yeah, I tried to cross the street to school without looking both ways. I didn't see the car on the right. It literally brushed the bottom of my shoe as I jumped on the pavement."

"No way." "Then the car turned around and the driver screamed at me for a few minutes. I was so scared that I ignored him and pretended to be picking flowers." "Flowers." "Uh huh. Then the crossing guard, who had seen the whole thing, started yelling at me and asking my name. So I lied and said I didn't know." "You said you didn't know your own name?" "Yeah. They tried to take me to the front desk but I ran away and hid in the bathroom. I think a teacher eventually found me." "That's crazy! How didn't I know this story?" "I don't know."

Apparently, it would take a lifetime to hear them all.

Good thing I have plenty of time.

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Hoop: I wish there were little people.
Tink: There ARE little people.
Hoop: No, I mean like two inches tall.
Tink: Why?
Hoop: Because then we could keep a whole colony in our closet and they could work on our house while we were at work.
Tink: I guess they wouldn't be very expensive to feed.
Hoop: We could just hook them up to IVs like in the Matrix-
Tink: -and have them supply our house with electricity!
Hoop: See, don't you wish there were little people too?

Around The Water Cooler:
Coworker: You're a natural red head, aren't you.
Tink: You mean blond?
Coworker: Nope.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(Over dinner)
Hoop: Quit tickling me!
Tink: Or what?
Hoop: Or um... I'll kill you.
Tink: Kill me and you get NOTHING.
Hoop: That's what you think. I took a life insurance policy out on you.
Tink: You can't do that! We're not even married.
Hoop: Yes I can. There's this thing called "insurable interest." If your death is going to effect the way I live, I can take a policy out on you.
Tink: So you're saying I could take a policy out on anyone?
Hoop: If you can prove insurable interest.
Tink: So I could take a policy out on our waitress?
Hoop: I don't think her death would effect your quality of life.
Tink: What if she dies before she can bring us our food?
Hoop: You're going to insure her for the cost of a hamburger?
Tink: Maybe I'm really really hungry.

Tomorrow: Weekend Recap and an announcement about the

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Thursday, September 06, 2007

Au revoir August

August Hit Statistics:
1. The primary day for hits was Thursday.
2. The most popular hour being 4pm.
3. The top referrers were the ladies at So Many Blogs So Little Time (who have just called it quits) and Mamalujo.
4. The most used search term was, "semen slang." Might I suggest "Manthrax" or "Dong Water"?
5. My favorite search term was, "dangers of sticking finger in your belly button." Because there are just so many.
6. The highest hit post (231) was on August 20th, the day I was showered in

31 Quirks For 31 Days:
1. Men can believe what they want, but I DON'T have penis envy.
2. I have intestine envy.
3. How is it that guys can drop brown several times a day and I struggle to do it once in three?
4. Oh yes, I'm going there.
5. You never hear men discussing fiber pills or Activia. Do they even make that stuff for them?
6. Men think the solution to constipation is eating "something with a tomato in it," or sitting on the toilet playing video games "until something slips out". Slips out?!
7. Further more, I think it's awful that guys can poop anywhere. It took me two years to feel comfortable enough to poop in the company bathroom! Even then I had to the run water and hum.
8. I have been smoke-free for 5 days, 19 hours, 37 minutes, and 11 seconds.
9. Ask me how I am. Go ahead, I dare you.
10. That pooping conversation didn't come up for nothing.
11. I hate Oprah.
12. It's not because she's black, or female, or rich. It's because she picks shitty books.
13. I will never understand how a $2 salad becomes a $9 meal at Ruby Tuesdays. Unless by charging so much they hope you enjoy it more. Which I do. Because damn it, if I'm going to pay $7 for a salad I'm going to lick the plate when I'm done.
14. If Hoop had been born in the 1960's and female he most certainly would have been a bra burner.
15. His biggest beef right now is the "click it or ticket" law. He believes it should be our choice whether we wear a seat belt or not and that telling us we have to is against our freedom.
16. I disagree, since I know he wouldn't wear one if there wasn't a law.
17. For awhile I only humored his theories about how Congress is limiting our freedom little by little. Until Jacksonville started talking about a dress code law.
18. $500 if you're caught wearing baggy pants or bottoms that show your ass when you bend down, no matter your age or sex. I swear someone has transported me back to high school. Next they're going to be outlawing baseball caps and bandannas.
19. When I was three I broke my leg.
20. I was on visitation with my Dad. My Mom didn't find out until two weeks later when he returned me. He lamely told her I'd fallen off the bed.
21. I still wonder about what really happened.
22. My favorite flower is the lily.
23. Of all the taste buds, sour is the one I'd pick to lose.
24. I LOVE sugared pecans.
25. At age 19 I thought I ruled the world.
26. Now I think the world rules me.
27. Whenever I'm feeling really blue, I read about someone who had it much worse than I do. Like
Rachel Plummer....
28. Then I feel even worse.
29. I think all humans are a little masochistic.
30. It's the reason we pick scabs and listen to sad music when we feel like crying.
31. If someone ever writes my life story... (I don't know why. Maybe I invent the cure for ugly) ...I don't want the last sentence to be "The End."
32. Or, "and then the clowns ripped off her face."
33. I'd rather it say, "She was one cool chick."

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Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Just The Good Stuff

Daily Hoop Conversation:
Tink: I love you.
Hoop: I love you more.
Tink: No you don't. I love YOU more.
Hoop: That's impossible.
Tink: Nuh-uh. I measured it while you were sleeping.
Hoop: *Blink*
Tink: Your love. I measured your love while you were sleeping.
Hoop: Whoa.
Tink: Yeah, that came out wrong.

Daily Hoop Conversation 2:
(While spooning on the couch)
Hoop: *Whispers*
Tink: No you don't.
Hoop: How did you hear that?!
Tink: You were whispering into my ear.
Hoop: Oh yeah.
Tink: Dork.

Around The Water Cooler:
Coworker: I went on a date with --- last night.
Tink: Oh girl.
Coworker: What? We had a really good time!
Tink: I told you, --- is a drug dealer. He told me so when he went to Hoop's birthday party last year.
Coworker: I know. But he didn't seem to be on anything when I saw him.
Tink: What, and waste profit? Of course he wasn't.
Coworker: Good point.
Tink: Go find yourself a nice guy.
Coworker: But I really like THIS one!

Spam Subjects:
(In the order I received them)
Can you return a call?
Can I? Sure! Will I? Probably not.
Jump the bell Like Taco Bell? Mmmm. Chalupa Supreme.
A Little d.i.c.k That spelling it out trick only works when you're saying it out loud.
You want yours bigger, all men do All men want my what bigger?
Best Prices for Impotence!
Because the market for Viagra was already cornered.

Tomorrow: Good-bye August post.

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Tuesday, September 04, 2007

The Unofficial End Of Summer

Weekend Recap:
1. I have been smoke-free for 4 days, 18 hours, 43 minutes, 20 seconds.
2. I have not smoked 96 cigarettes and have saved myself $18.00.
3. According to the American Lung Association, my pulse rate has dropped, my blood pressure has decreased, the risk of heart attack has lowered, and my nerve endings have started to regrow. In fifteen years I will have the same life expectancy as if I'd never smoked.
4. So why don't I feel better?!
5. At least five times a day I wonder, "Why am I doing this again?"
6. The problem is, I never felt unhealthy in the first place. So the side effects of quitting feel more like a punishment than a reward.
7. My Mom has been smoke-free for a month now. She says it gets easier. I'm hanging on to that thought like a paper umbrella in a rainstorm.
8. Friday night Hoop, Hoop's Mom, and I headed out for Atlanta. It's become a tradition to go to a Braves game once a year.
9. Unfortunate for me, they've sucked since I started watching them.
10. So instead of talent, I've learned to judge the players based on cuteness.
11. Saturday afternoon we hopped in a cab and headed to the stadium. The game had been sold out for awhile, so Hoop and his Mom banked on the fact that the cab driver could point us in the direction of some good scalpers.
12. Unluckily, we got the most honest cab driver in all of Atlanta. He dropped us off at the gates without saying a single word other than, "Good luck."
13. Just before the first inning we found a set of tickets that seemed promising. Hoop's Mom started having doubts on the way to our seats. Had we not persuaded her to check them out first, she might have succeeded in sending Hoop out again for another try.
14. It was a good thing too. The seats were PERFECT. We were close enough to see all the action (or lack of), but far enough away as to be in the shade. Shade on a hot summer day is priceless.

15. Saturday evening we went to a laser show at
Stone Mountain. The show was entertaining, but I found the mountain a little eerie. I've never seen a mountain so perfectly round before! And this one was completely made of granite. It's placement is odd. It stands alone in a vast rolling Georgia landscape.
16. Some of the locals claim it was created by aliens or that it is a secret base for the government.
17. But the scientific reasoning is this: "It formed as a result of the upwelling of magma from within the Earth's crust. This magma solidified to form granite within the crust below the surface."
18. From 1916 to 1972, three carvers worked on the portrait of Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson that adorns the side of Stone Mountain today.
19. One of the carvers, Gutzon Borglum, left the project early to work on another job in South Dakota. That project was none other than Mount Rushmore.
20. Hm. I think he got the better end of the deal.

21. So what did you do over the weekend?

(Random Weekend Pictures)

Roadside Missile



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Saturday, September 01, 2007



It wasn't an accumulation of things.

It should have been. But it wasn't.

When I was one, my Dad threw my Mom down a flight of stairs. She walked in the pouring rain, bleeding, to the nearest payphone. No one stopped or offered help. She had to whisper where she was to my Grandmother because the fall had broken all of her ribs. After my father was served with divorce papers, he set fire to my Mother's things. This included a rocking chair that had been in my family for five generations. My Mom and I moved into an apartment next to railroad tracks. Sometimes in the middle of the night, you could hear my Father bashing in her car over the blare of the train horns.

I saw my Dad on and off from the age of two through eight. He went to jail several times. Three times for possession of drugs and once for shooting at a girlfriend. He would always take me to Red Lobster on his visits, filling the table with anything I wanted. We'd go shopping and take trips to amusement parks. He'd light up a joint and tell me it was our little secret, that Mom would take me away if she knew. When he knew he had my silence, he started taking me to drug houses. I was nine when I found out what coke was. A fifteen year old girl showed me her stash while my Dad and her Mom played with needles upstairs.

Once my Father had convinced my Mom he was trustworthy, I started spending weekends with him at his twinkie trailer. We shared a bedroom for awhile, until my Mom told him I needed my own room and he kicked me out to the couch. He took advantage of the "privacy" by inviting girlfriends over. He always had six or seven. None of them knew about the others and it was my job to remember their names and not slip up. Each night's sleep was broken by the sounds of squeaking bed springs, or the yells of the women as they exited the trailer after a beating. I never asked. He never offered details.

Christmas night, 1993, my Dad had just finished a case of beer. I was going through my presents when a small stack of "Boys II Men" CDs caught his eye. He tossed them out into the snow and told me I could either give them up or leave. So I left. Fortunately, I had a friend who only lived a couple blocks away. I didn't sleep well that night and headed home just after dawn. I knocked on the trailer door for twenty minutes before my Dad let me in. On the couch, MY couch, sat a woman with a bashed up face. She never looked at me. She didn't even speak when my Dad ordered her to the car. He paid her with the Christmas money my Grandfather had given me.

In the winter of 2005, my Dad came to stay for a month. He was on the lamb, but he seemed of good mind and health. During his stay we built a fence around my yard for the dogs. He cooked pasta sauces and canollis while I was at work. When he wasn't cooking he was fixing my car or making landscape plans for the spring. We went to movies and took pictures down town. I thought he was a changed man. He said he'd quit drinking and doing drugs and I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to be the father I never got as a kid, the one I always felt I deserved. But things had changed by the next time he came around. He didn't laugh or smile anymore. No food waited for me when I got home. It was like a light had gone out for good...

Two nights before I kicked my father out, I found my stash of liquor. I'd hidden them in my bedroom closet. They were all empty. Then I found out from the lady at the gas station that he'd been stealing my car at night and driving to the store for beer. He called my friends at 2am rambling threats and apologies. I came home each afternoon from work to find that he was still sleeping. Our conversations stopped making sense. He became erratic and confrontational. It started with an argument over my bamboo plant, which he insisted I take outside and plant. "You're killing it!" he screamed. I realized right then that he was completely drunk.

I dug around in the trash until I found an empty vodka bottle. I pleaded with him to get his life together. I loved him. I'd always loved him, despite his many faults. But he didn't want my love anymore. "You're not my daughter!" He screamed in my face. Which was the scariest thing of all. Because being his daughter was the only thing that had ever saved me from his wrath. "You're someone else's kid. You were supposed to be your Mom's fourth abortion. But I stopped her. I saved you!" It wasn't true. None of it. But he continued screaming it for the next hour. He almost won. He'd already convinced himself that my life was forfeit, and my heart was completely broken.

But somehow I managed to stand my ground. I told him to get out. I told him that if he truly believed that I wasn't his kid, then he didn't need to be in my house anymore. He was gone in the morning. I never saw him again. He text me a few months later with an apology. But I didn't reply. Then his number got discontinued. Then I moved. It'll be three years in January. I don't regret doing it. I truly believe that he had reached a point where he was capable of anything, a point of no return. But I DO miss him sometimes. I'm sure that's hard for you to understand. I don't expect you to. My Father was a bad man. But I loved him because he was mine.

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