April 2008

I’ve been taking care of my mom this week since she had a face lift and laser resurfacing on Monday.  She looks like a balloon full of raw hamburger meat.  It’s every bit as attractive as it sounds.  I go over in the morning and then we go to the doctor’s office.  They check her progress and we ask all of our questions and take lots of notes.  We usually stop at Starbucks for some crack on the way home.  She made this huge Excel spreadsheet where we write in the medications that she’s taking and when she does her face washing and moisturizing routine.  She also has to do something called debrading (which I’m sure I’m misspelling, but whatever).  That’s just nasty.  It basically involves rolling a giant Q-tip over her face to remove the crusty yellow bits.  Urgh!  The whole entire washing, soaking, debrading, and moisturizing process takes 40 minutes and happens four times a day.  Major suckage.  And I can’t even be bothered to spend two minutes washing off my makeup at night!

So I’ve decided that I will NEVER EVER EVER have a face lift or any other elective surgery.  Jeez Louise, why put yourself through this?  I wanted a nose job for the longest time when I was younger, but never had the guts even though my grandmother kept offering to get me one (nice, eh?).  I have a bump on my nose from getting hit with a ski, but it’s not noticeable from the front.  The side is a different story.  Anyway, I eventually got to the point where I was like, “Hey, that’s my nose.  If I had a different one, I wouldn’t look like me.”  But every once in a while, I would think how nice it would be to have a lovely straight nose.  Yeah, I don’t care anymore about that bump.

The poor dog is about sick of this schedule.  He’s having to get up earlier than he wants to (think how I feel about that too!), then I leave for like six hours, then I come home and let him out and feed him and spend a little time with him, and then I go back for another four to six hours.  He gave me a crate refusal today which has only happened two other times in the past year.  I think.  There may have been a small phase, but I don’t know for sure.

Anyway, my mom is making good progress.  Each day is exponentially better than the day before even though she looks icky.  We joked about making a My Space page for her.  My dad was not amused.  I think he thought we were serious, goofball!


D finished his CHLclass this weekend.  After sitting in a classroom for about twelve hours learning random shit, much of which had nothing to do with carrying a concealed handgun (e.g., if you’re being forced to suck a dick, bite it off.  Seriously.  It kind of turned into a general self-defense/cornhole protection class), he had to sit through a basic “How to Shoot Your Gun” class.  You might wonder why people who are interested in carrying might need such a class.  You might assume, like D and I did, that people in the CHL class have shot before and have actually practiced for the shooting accuracy portion of the course (D got 100% on that part, by the way).  Well, you would be wrong.  There were people in that class who had never touched a gun.  That’s right.  They’ve never touched a gun, yet they want to carry one around on their person.  And to think, New Mexico is one of the stricter states on this whole issue.  I was shocked!  I don’t know how to fix it without putting actual shooters through hellacious hours of boredom and drudgery, but I think they should somehow separate experienced people (like D) from inexperienced people (like me).  Anyway, he wants me to take the class whether I ever actually use a CHL or not.  And he thinks I should carry a knife.  This class made an already paranoid man positively neurotic.  He and his mom were hanging out today when someone knocked on the door.  D answered it with a Glock behind his back.  It was UPS.  Duuuude.  But I guess after hearing all the stories about most home invasions occuring when you LET someone in your house (salesman, lady with a baby, gas company guy saying there’s a leak, etc), you might get a bit skittish.

Anyway … my mom had her face lift today.  This was not my favorite thing ever since she’s a transplant patient, but like I said to her, there are people much smarter than I am making the decision that this is an okay idea.  My sister disagrees.  My main worry is infection.  On Wednesday, I’m going to stop by and see how she and Kathy are doing.  Kathy is a close friend of hers who is coming over to take care of her, but Kathy isn’t so great with gross stuff, and this is really disgusting oozy gross stuff.  I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve seen it.  I will not suffer icky shit alone, damn it!  Thursday and Friday I have her on my own, and Monday I take her to get the staples taken out.  That makes me have to gag a little bit.  Tuesday I go back out to New Mexico to meet D’s sister and aunt and uncle.  I’m also starting my house search that week.

As far as moving out there goes, I hope that I’m doing the right thing.  I think I am, but there’s always that part of me that worries that I’ll get out there and he’ll change his mind and I’ll have moved for nothing.  He seems to be ready for it.  I think with guys that once they’ve decided they want to be with you (as D puts it, “I’m ready to not have sex with anyone else for the rest of my life”, heh), then that’s it, they want to be with you and the game is over.  It’s that old thing where guys operate in the black and white, and girls live in the gray.  It’s hard being away too.  The weekends are so trying.  I’m not busy and I have nothing but time to think and get worried and be sad.  I was watching Big Brother, and that idiot Jen wrote in Ryan’s letter something like, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but nobody tells you how much it will make your heart hurt.”  I burst out crying at that.  It’s so true.  My heart hurt so much this weekend even though D was calling me during breaks in his class and texting me and all that.  It just hurts my whole body to be away from him.  Thank God it’s the week now and I’m very busy!  Yep, so busy I’m sitting here on the internetz.  So I just have to get through one more weekend before I see him again.  Gak, what a baby.  Seriously.  I mean, think of all the women who have husbands away in the armed forces and have to not only be away from them, but have the additional worry of something happening.  I need to grow the fuck up already and just deal with it.  

First, a random note.  I have this massive purple bruise on my left kneecap which looks like it clearly hurt when I did it, but I can’t for the life of me remember hitting it.  I was cleaning yesterday, so I’m sure I knocked it on something or other then, but yeah, I have no memory of it.

Okay, I promised escapades and a weird dream (but I have two of those now), so here we go.  My ex-husband still owns our old house in addition to his new house which is in the same neighborhood as the old one.  He hasn’t sold it yet because he doesn’t think he can get what he wants for it right now, so it’s sitting there vacant.  I’m sure the neighbors love that, but it’s been established that I’m a sucky neighbor, so I can’t talk.  Anyway, it’s over by two of Munchkin’s best friends.  One day, he was over there playing with one of the guys.  Later that day, Ex went over to check on some things at the house and found a grocery cart in the garage with a bunch of sodas and bags of chips and other assorted junkie foods in it.  He asked Munchkin if he knew anything about the cart.  Munch said no.  Ex said, “I’m going to ask one more time, and if you really don’t know anything, I need to call the police and have them look into this.”  So of course Munch fessed up that he and his friend had gone to the store and bought all the junk and were storing it in the garage for when they were playing in the area.  By the way, the garage has a keypad entry code thing on it, so you can get in without a key or opener as long as you know the code.  So Ex mentions that it’s theft to take a grocery cart off store property which he knows from the experience of one of his own escapades as a kid.  Munch took the cart back, but Ex didn’t make him go into the store and confess.  I would’ve made him do that!  Yep, so I have a wild onion barbequeing, grocery cart stealing teenager.  Lovely!

Weird dream number one:  In New Mexico, I had this dream that Frodo’s head was on a spinning wheel in a pond.  His body was floating nearby.  Sam came by and Frodo kept saying, “Sam, my body.”  So Sam chops Frodo’s head off the wheel and manages to reattach it to Frodo’s body.  Then Frodo was sitting there eating a sandwich with a rather messy stitch job on his neck.  His lips were a weird maroon color and looked kind of Joker-ish.  Needless to say, I’m a Tolkien nerd.  A sick Tolkien nerd.

Weird dream number two:  This one was last night.  I dreamed I was at D’s house, and I walked into the bathroom, you know, to pee.  The toilet was missing.  I said, “D, where’s the toilet?”  He came in and looked, and was all like, “Hunh.  I have no idea where it went,” like it wasn’t all that out of the ordinary for the toilet to get up and walk off for a bit.  Then my phone rang and woke me up.  It was D on his way to his concealed handgun license class.  Yes, he is a gun-toting maniac.  But anyway, why would I dream about a missing toilet?  What the heck does that mean?  

Apparently when you go out of town, you’re supposed to let the neighbors know so they don’t think your corpse is rotting in your house.  Oops, my bad.  Long story short, I now know my across the street neighbors.  I didn’t know they watched my comings and goings so closely, but they were like, “Yeah, we normally see you come and go, so when we didn’t for so long, we got worried.  And plus, we know you’d never let your yard go like this, so we thought something was really wrong.”  Heh about the yard.  It looked so bad when I got home, and I had another nasty note from the HOA with the threat of a fine if I don’t hurry up and fix it.  So I spent today fixing it.  Or at least a fourth of it.  I still have a ways to go.  The yard guy comes Saturday though, so I’ll water Saturday night and then spread the weed killer/fertilizer I got today on Sunday morning.  That’s how the Lowe’s guy said to do it anyway.  I also got this nifty tool for pulling weeds but managed to break it already.

My trip was good.  The ice in Albuquerque is super hard and I don’t like it.  D’s mom said if I can skate on it, then I can skate on anything.  That’s good news since the ice in Reston is supposedly shit.  Don’t get a literal vision of that if you can help it.  She’s also fixing my dresses.  One needs altering and all of them need stones.  All I had were clear Swarovskis, but she said to use the colored ones.  Luckily she has like eleventy billion of them from stoning D’s costumes back in his competitive days.

We saw “The Ruins” while I was there.  Don’t bother.  It wasn’t at all what I expected.  I thought it would be more adventure-y, but it was kind of a gore-fest.  We also hiked a trail that I used to go on when I lived there, but since it’s still kind of cold none of the pretty stuff has bloomed.  The most interesting thing on the trail was the sheer amount of dog shit.  I was kind of shocked.  You would think that the kind of people who hike trails would be the kind of people who would know to pick up their dog’s crap.  Ew.  We also went shooting one day.  I sucked so much ass.  My targeting was okay, but it was taking me about twenty minutes between shots.  It got so bad that D finally unloaded the gun and had me shoot it dry to get my comfort level back up.  Then on my last clip of the day, I pulled the trigger and nothing happened.  So with the gun still pointing downrange (VERY IMPORTANT), I turned my head and said, “It’s not working” and then the damn thing shot.  I still hit the target, but not where I intended.  So I learned if you think the gun isn’t working, take your finger off the trigger.  I’m a dumbass who shouldn’t be allowed to handle weapons.  D said it happens to everyone though.  Somehow that failed to make me feel better.  Oh, he got his other AK-47 yesterday and shot it today.  He’s more in love with it than he is with me.  That’s okay, I’m secure in the knowledge that there are things I can do for him that a gun can’t.  Though if he says anything about a gun is better than sex again …

Okay, I have Big Brother After Dark on, and we’ve been watching Adam read a bible for like forty minutes.  Oh for Pete’s sake, if there’s nothing going on in the house, put together some footage from when there was interesting stuff going on and let us watch that.  What I want to know is why I haven’t changed the channel.  Ah, it must be that dumbass thing happening again.  I is smrt.

I’m writing this down here so hopefully I’ll remember to do it later, but I need to write about my child’s latest escapade and the weird ass dream I had while in New Mexico.

My son’s here this weekend.  He’s playing Rock Band while I do this, and then we’re going to see Leatherheads.  We spent yesterday pulling weeds since I got a nasty note from the homeowner’s association.  I’m still so freaking embarrassed about that!

This is courtesy of Adam.  I think I got some of them right on his – he does movie quote answers and then you guess for a contest.  Yay, games!!!

1. Would you kill your neighbor?
Nah, he’s nice enough.  And his yard is weed-free.  They may come kill me though.

2. What’s one word that describes your last fight?
Politely yelling.  I realize that’s two words, but I don’t yell meanly.  It’s more of a tone of voice thing.  Then I threw the phone.  Very mature.  I throw stuff when I’m mad, but usually it’s the hairbrush because my hair won’t behave.  Also very mature.

3. What were you doing ten minutes ago?
Watching the Munchkin play drums.

4. Do you carve pumpkins every year?
Ew, no.  Pumpkin guts STINK.

5. What’s your favorite season?
Fall because the tornado threat is pretty much over and it’s not too cold yet.

6. How are you feeling right now?
My hamstrings are sore for reasons unknown, but otherwise fine.  The stomach virus seems to have passed, thank goodness. 

7. What did you do this weekend?
Besides the stuff up at the top, we went to dinner with my parents for their anniversary.  It’s actually on Monday, but they’re going to some fundraiser so we celebrated early.

8. What is the last thing you touched?
Myself.  Just kidding.  My mug of coffee, but that’s not nearly such a fun answer.

9. Have you ever been called a punk?
This is a really stupid story, but yeah.  It was the mid-80’s, and we were driving through Kansas on our way from my grandparents house in Oklahoma to my uncle’s cabin in Winter Park, CO to go skiing.  We stopped at this diner in Bumfuck, KS to eat, and I was wearing this flourescent multi-color and black sweater with black pants.  I had short, kind of sticky-uppy hair, but I’d say I was trendy, not punk.  Anyway, we were walking through to our table, and this giant fucker in overalls says, “Seat the punk in the back” and points at me.  Oh, appalling!!!  My family thought it was funny though.  I was worried about embarrassing my grandmother.  She’s very proper.  But she had just moved back from England and had seen actual punks and is a huge fashionista (I know, even in Oklahoma), so she knew it was ridiculous.

10. Do you have a favorite number?
I like seven.  Thirteen shows up a lot in my life.  I was interviewing for a job in Houston which was at 1300 Blankety-blank Ave., Suite 1300, so I knew I’d get the job because what worse hell could it be for me than to be stuck on an elevator to the 13th floor every freaking day?  My house is at 1300 Blankety-blank Dr.  And yes, there is a 1313 on my street.  Oh hell no, I wouldn’t live in that house!

11. Do you hate anyone/anything?
I’m pretty pissed at my sister right now.  She was the cause of the telephone throwing, but I don’t hate her.  I hate weeds. 

12. If you could meet anyone who would it be?
Stephen Hawking.  Yep, I’m a nerd.

13. Last time you went out to lunch?
That would be the day I met D’s parents.  So exactly a week ago.

14. Say you were given a drug test right now.
Dude, the amount of caffeine that would show up …

15. Do people ever spell your name wrong?
Yes.  It’s spelled Renee, and lots of people leave off that last “e”.  I’m a girl.  I get another “e”.  Gosh!

They changed some stuff on wordpress and I can’t find spellcheck.  Hope I didn’t goof too much!

I came back from New Mexico with a stomach virus and finally went to the doctor today because I can’t take it anymore.  Unfortunately since it’s a virus, there’s not really anything they can do for me so I have to take it some more whether I want to or not.  Assholes.

The flight out there was fine.  I was all Xanex-y so I didn’t much care about the tiny bit of turbulence we had or anything like that.  I was crying when I got on the plane since they hadn’t kicked in yet, but the flight attendant was really sweet and got me a front row seat (I flew Southwest and got just about the last boarding pass because I’m dumb and didn’t check in online).  She even came and sat by me during take-off and held my hand.

D (this would be Man-Friend, but I figure we’ve dispensed with the disguises) met me at the first place you’re allowed to meet people at the Albuquerque airport.  I do miss the days of being able to meet people at the gate.  We went to lunch and then got checked into the hotel and all that.  He had to teach for a little bit that evening, so I slept off the remainder of the Xanex and played with my DS.

On Saturday we went to the zoo when he was done teaching.  I’ve never seen so many tattoos in one place.  I saw one dude who had his entire family rendered on his belly (so yeah, he was shirtless.  Can anyone say “Classy”?).  The animals looked depressed.  D said they looked like they were waiting for extinction.

Sunday was meet the parents day.  We were both so nervous, and I mean ridiculously nervous, like to the point of saying stupid shit like, “One night stands are so much easier than this.”  Oops.  They were nice though.  His mom is very blunt, but not towards me.  It’s just like if she’s thinking something, she says it, and she says exactly how she feels about it.  His dad’s somewhat quieter.  We went back to their house and watched a movie and hung out for a bit before heading back to the hotel.

Oh, they wanted to make sure I came back while D’s aunt is there.  That’s at the end of the month.  It’s going to be a very full house, but apparently she’s an awesome cook so the food will be plentiful and good, yay!  The sister who’s going to grill me and make sure her brother isn’t a boy-toy to me will be there too.  Also I’m going back next week and will be staying there then too.

Leaving was awful.  We both wanted me to stay longer.  That’s where this is so hard.  You get there and you want to stay.  You get home and you want to go back.  You’re there and dreading leaving the whole time.  You send your itinerary to him and he says, “You should stay longer.”  I wish I could!  Right now I’m counting down the days til I go back.  So yeah, that sucks ass.

Anyway, Albuquerque has changed more than I thought it would.  For one thing, they have lots of restaurants now.  When I lived there, they had this huge deal where they didn’t want chain restaurants invading the city.  Uh, too bad guys.  You’re as chainy as Dallas now.  The service is much better now too.  I think that goes along with having corporations running things.  They are still lousy about keeping your tea glass from going empty though.  I’m a thirsty girl.  The traffic is worse too.  D’s mom said the drunk driving problem is getting better, so at least there’s that.  It’s still fairly ugly and boring.  There’s nothing to do but eat there.  Well, there’s touristy stuff, but I did all that when I lived there, and D has no interest in that shit.  He hates Santa Fe, but he’s a fascist conservative, so it’s totally enemy territory to him.  They have hemp stores, so you can see where that might pose a problem for him.  I’ll tell ya though, so you can stay in your hotel room and have lots of sex, that’s for sure!!!  Sorry, that was tacky.

Oh, I cried while boarding the plane home too and got front-row again.  A travel tip from me to you.