country living (sort of)

Is that even how you spell “jinx”?  I guess I’ll find out when I spellcheck which will render this sentence totally useless.  I’m hoping my ridiculously long absence will make you so happy to read anything I have to say that you won’t care if my sentences are tossers.  Heh.  Even Stephen King doesn’t have such luck.

Anyway, what I’m afraid of jinxing (is that a word?) is the house situation.  D and I found a house we both love in NM, and I had a realtor come by today (yep, on Mother’s Day.  I never said I was a nice person) to look at my house.  She wants to price it $20K above my best hopes.  Apparently tricking out the kitchen will pay off.  We’ll see, but I was pretty damn stoked.  She seemed to be too – I did a lot of upgrading to this house which just about excited the pants off her.  It’s good because the market in NM is much pricier than in TX.  I’m going to lose 1,000 square feet for a similarly priced and optioned house.  It sucks!  Texas is lovely in that way – everything is dirt cheap here.  I’m not sure where NM gets off pricing the way they do since I personally feel they’re the fourth worst state (1. NJ, 2. Miss, 3. Nev, and 4. NM – just my opinion and it’s based on the fact that people in my family are from these places and can tell you so.  Or in the case of NM, I’ve lived there and I know it’s a shithole.  We haven’t lived in Mississippi though.  They’re on my list because of their poverty and educational problems.  Sorry if I’ve offended, but honestly, if you’re from one of these places, then you of all people should know what a cesspool suckfest you live in).  I think NM sucks because it’s brown brown and more brown.  If you like rocks and dead looking plant-like things, go live there.  You’ll be very happy.  Also they have a state income tax and yet they still tax the groceries.  Texas doesn’t have a state income tax and we still don’t pay tax on food.  WTF?  The schools suck in NM and the drivers are all insane.  When I lived there before, they all went about ten miles below the speed limit.  It was like everyone was stoned.  They’re all on crystal meth now and they’ll blow by you going 90 in a 45.  Stupid fuckers.  And yet, I’m choosing to move there.  So I’m not allowed to complain about it anymore.  I’ll make fun, but I won’t bitch.  Yeah right!

I have a competition this coming weekend, so I won’t be around AGAIN.  It’s craptacular because I’m not online reading anyone else’s stuff or writing my stuff.  I feel pretty disconnected, but once things settle down and I’m not the traveling queen … well, it’ll be better someday!


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.

So I was cleaning out the garage yesterday, and I found a dead mouse.  Blech.  It was the one time in months that I thought it might be nice to have a man around.  Luckily I have come to my senses and decided that I will just call the bug guy on Monday.  In the meantime, the poor dead mouse is still hanging out in the garage.  It’s stuck to one of those sticky trays which are actually meant to catch creepy-crawly bugs.  I’m not sure how long it’s been there because I don’t usually look at the trays.  See, what happened was I was cleaning up the sports equipment area which is by the garage door.  The little trays are on either side of the door (they’re about the size of a license plate).  I noticed the tray was crooked (and we can all thank Monica on Friends for this one: “If it’s not a right angle, then it’s a wrong angle”) so I kicked the corner of the tray to straighten it out.  My tennis shoe got stuck in the sticky goo.  That was gross enough as the tray is covered in crickets.  Then I saw this gray fuzzy stuff which really confused me because I thought it was a hairball, and my dog is blonde so how could it be gray hair?  So I looked a little closer at the tray which, mind you, was still stuck to my shoe.  And the realization that I was looking at a small dead mouse dawned on me.  I must admit I shrieked.  My neighbors suck because apparently they didn’t care enough to come rescue me.  Or maybe they didn’t hear me because I’m really a very quiet person even while shrieking.  Anyway, I had to get the tray off without using my hands, so I used my other foot to hold the tray steady while I unstuck my shoe.  That was tricky since I obviously didn’t want to touch the mouse with any part of me or anything that was touching me or that I would have to touch later.  Plus I didn’t want to get my other shoe stuck in the goo either.  Once I was free, I decided the garage was plenty clean, and that was that!

My next door neighbor is an illegal waterer.  We’re currently only allowed to water on Thursdays and not between 10 am and 6 pm.  He’s watering every night around nine o’clock, so of course the city guy isn’t around to see.  It pisses me right off because even though we’ve had a ton of rain lately, our area is still technically in a drought.  At least according to city officials anyway, and that’s only because our lake that’s like five minutes from here is still down two feet.  All the other lakes in the area are normal or above.  Personally I think they’re full of crap about our lake, but hey, I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry.  Anyway, until the restrictions are lifted, I think you have to follow them.  They’re in place for a reason!

Okay, so onto the break-up story.  It’s really weird because I’m not even sure what prompted it.  We were getting ready to watch an episode of “Planet Earth”, and then we somehow got into lecture number 857 entitled “Things You Do That Don’t Please Me” by Now-Ex-Boyfriend.  Amongst the many things I don’t do right are 1) I don’t cook often enough, and when I do it, it’s not because I love him and want him to eat.  No, rather it is because I’m hungry.  Not true – it’s because it’s dinnertime and we’re both hungry.  But whatever – what difference does it make why a person cooks if the end result is the same; there is food on the table, now come and eat!  And when I don’t cook, it doesn’t mean I don’t love him or my son.  It just means I didn’t cook.  Somebody else can cook, and by somebody, I mean Ex-Boyfriend.  He actually likes to cook.  I hate cooking.  Hate it!  I love to bake though.  Or we could eat out or order in or fend for ourselves.  Cooking does not equal love. 

Reason 2)  I am technically a stay-at-home mom even though I don’t have custody.  I still see my son every day and pick him up from either school or my mom’s house every day except Tuesdays when he goes to his other grandmother’s house.  Because of that, Ex-Boyfriend thinks I should actually stay at home all day.  No ice dancing, no lunches with friends, no bookstore browsing or whatever.  No, I should stay at home and clean and cook all fucking day.  What is this, 1950?  Am I June Cleaver?  I think not! 

Reason 3)  He felt like he came in second to ice dancing which is something I do during the day while he’s at work (oops, instead of staying home doing the cooking and cleaning).  But oh no, I had the unmitigated gall to sometimes talk about what I did at the rink, so that must place him second.  Now, I never felt like I came in second to hockey even when I had to listen to a play-by-play of a very bad hockey game!  I listened to him because he was passionate about it, and I cared about him, and therefore I cared enough to listen.  That did not work both ways.  He was also desperately jealous of Duke.  Um, Duke is 23 and he’s my coach.  I absolutely love the time I spend with him, but not in a romantic way.  I have a ton of fun with him too.  Yes, I have to hold hands with him, and yes, we do dance very closely (it’s supposed to be navel to navel, but we haven’t achieved that yet as I find it a violation of my personal space!  Have to get over that one!).  But you have to!  It’s how it works!  Have you ever seen ice dancers or ballroom dancers or any kind of partnered dancers not touch?  Ridiculous!

Reason 4) And this is the one where I will admit fault.  He said I wasn’t as touchy-feely with him anymore.  For example, I didn’t lay on the couch with him anymore to watch a movie.  There is a reason behind that though.  His furniture is what ended up in the family room.  It’s black leather bachelor slippery and yet sticky yuck.  Not comfy, and not wide and roomy like my couches on which I was always happy to cuddle.  So anyway, black leather made me un-cuddly.  Maybe I should’ve put my personal comfort aside to make him happier in the closeness department.

Reason 5) I didn’t walk around in sexy little thongs and heels nearly often enough (read: really ever.  So uncomfortable!).  Okay, I realize they wouldn’t be on for long, but hey, is it not enough for me to just take off my regular clothes?  I guess not.  I suppose he needed me to walk around like a complete harlot to turn him on.  Yuck.  Am I June Cleaver or a whore?  Really, which one?  Fuck dude, I’m confused!  I think perhaps all the porn plus his saint of a mother had him confused too.

So that’s the high points of the reasons for the break-up.  He went on to say that our lack of intimacy wasn’t helping (hang on there, not my fault – I’ve been having all those problems with the breakthrough bleeding, though that’s pretty much under control now that my doctor switched the kind of b.c. I am on.  However, if there had been one droplet of blood anytime in the past 24 hours, he wouldn’t touch me!  Or he was tired from work or hockey, or I was tired from skating or running.  Or I hadn’t paraded around in slutwear.  Or I hadn’t shaved that day.  He doesn’t like hair at all, not that I blame him.  Stubble is gross.  However, he was very demanding about the circumstances under which he would have sex.  It made me feel unappealing if I wasn’t all “perfect”.  So we hadn’t had sex in a couple of weeks.  However, we had not five minutes before decided we were going to have some sex!  Ironic!!!  And needless to say, that didn’t happen.)  I suggested that there were steps we could take to remedy all that, like going on dates again.  Our last real date had been when we went to see “Pan’s Labyrinth” in February.  Hello!  February!!!  Plus he yelled at me that night for being upset about my tooth that had just broken.  Well, excuse me!  Hunh, I feel anger coursing through me at the moment.  What an asshole!

Anyway, I was sick and tired of the lectures and not being good enough.  I told him I wasn’t going to sit around on pins and needles waiting for him to decide (again!  This was the fourth time this happened) if he wanted to be with me.  He needed to decide then what the answer was.  He said, “I guess it’s over then.”

Fine by me!  I cannot even tell you how much more relaxed the munchkin and I have been since he left.  I just wish he’d hurry up and get the rest of his shit out of here so I wouldn’t have to look at it anymore.  And you know, I’m not bitter over men about this.  I know this particular one is a great big git who wants to live in a sanitized perfectly clean and ordered little world (makes it very hard to have a boy and a dog!) except for when it comes to sex, in which case, the dirtier the better.  I don’t need that.  I want somebody who’s willing to live a real life!  I still love men.  They’re generally cute and funny and nice to be around.  I love hugs from them too.  That said, I’m waiting until after next Valentine’s Day before I start dating again.  I want to make sure I’m right in the head because I clearly wasn’t if I was willing to live with a person such as Ex-Boyfriend.  He didn’t make me feel good about myself.  That should’ve been enough for me to end it ages ago.  But I know better now!

One of the funnier things that has happened out of all this was his reaction to my new furniture.  I moved my couch and chair and a half from the formal living room to the family room.  Then I decided I needed more seating, so I got these two chairs from Target.  They flank the fireplace, and they look really good in here.  So now there’s enough seating in my family room for my whole family when they come to visit.  It’s all good!  I also had to get end tables because the ones that were in here before were his.  In addition, my ex-husband gave me his old patio set because he was getting a new one, plus our old couch and loveseat which he had in storage.  I slipcovered those and got some pillows and throws, etc.  Well, ex-boyfriend has been over here twice, and twice he’s asked where I got the money to do all that (ack!  MYOB!!!) and why didn’t I do that kind of stuff when we were together (because we didn’t need furniture, and plus he made me feel so insecure about choices I wanted to make that I wouldn’t have out of fear of what he might say).  I simply said it was because we didn’t need furniture.  I refused to answer the money question (all I have to say is I love love love Target!), but I’m glad it looks like it’s out of my price range to him.  That makes me go “haha sucka”!  Not very mature, I know.  I also don’t care.

One last note to a very long post: I really knew I should’ve either broken up with him or let him carry on with one of his previous break-ups with me when my son, mom, and sister were all obviously happy about this.  It made me feel a little bit dumb, but at the same time, I’m glad I’m not imagining the asshole factor.

Stuff I can’t find:

1. My water.  I’ve misplaced it.  Once upon a time, I drank Diet Big Red constantly.  I used to lose those all the time too.  So the water isn’t special or anything.  I think it’s upstairs, and since I’m doing this right now, I don’t want to go up there and look for it.

2. The drill.  This is also reason number two of why I don’t want to go upstairs right now.  I have an unfinished project in my bathroom which is where I’m pretty sure I left the water and I don’t want to look at the unfinished-ness.  It’s not even started-ness.  I opened the box that the towel hanger is in, realized I needed a drill, and quit since I don’t know where it is.  “Garage” isn’t good enough.  I don’t want to dig.  I think that means I don’t really want to do the project today either.

Wait, I know where the water is!  It’s on my nightstand.  Mystery solved.  Nancy Drew would be … unimpressed.

3. My sister.  See, Anjelica went into labor last night, and Kim is my pipeline of information.  I can’t find her, hence I have no information.  In fact, since I didn’t check my middle of night emails (no, I don’t really ever do that), I didn’t know that Anjelica had gone into labor until late this afternoon because I was busy all day with the dentist and skating.

4. My right outside edge.  It comes and goes.  Perhaps it’ll come back tomorrow.  That is frustrating!  It was working very well last week though.

So that’s what I have lost for today.

Here’s the dentist story: I broke my nightguard last week.  I split the thing right down the middle of the left side.  Now, I don’t know if anyone but me was like, “wow, that is some awesome grinding and clenching you’re doing”, but I thought it was pretty amazing.  I had ground a bunch of holes into that side, and I guess they weakened it to the point that it just cracked.  Anyway, last Thursday I went to the dentist to get molds made for the new guard, but they called me on Friday to say one of the molds was distorted and we had to redo it.  Since I was in Austin on Friday, it had to wait until today.  In the meantime, I’m destroying my teeth all over again.  I woke myself up in the middle of the night when I ground really hard and my jaw slipped.  The sound was horrific.  Needless to say, I hope they can make this thing really fast.  Oh, it’s a new kind so it’s not supposed to break.  It’s made of a softer material than my old one which was some kind of acrylic or something.  Supposedly, it’s more comfortable as well, but the old one wasn’t uncomfortable so that’s not much of an issue.

Austin was fun.  All the plans we made were shot down by the weather though.  I bought a bathing suit so we could go to the Springs with the dogs, but it ended up being 34 degrees with sleet.  Not exactly tanning weather.  It’s weird, the last three times I went down there, it has rained most of the time I was there.  I control the weather.  Hunh.  Who knew?  Well, if that were true, I’d make it rain here more and then we wouldn’t be in a drought with sprinkler restrictions.  We’re only allowed to water once a week, and only during certain times.

The only problem with Austin was that we ate so much.  I am hugely bloated today, urgh!  So this is a major diet week.  Well, it’s supposed to be.  I have been in the Easter candy today.  The fact that I’ve allowed Easter candy in the house probably shows what a lousy dieter I am.  This is how bad it is:  I have five boxes of Hot Tamales in the secret candy drawer (uh, no wonder I need to lose weight!).  Oh yeah, they’re not wee boxes either.  They’re the big movie size that you get at Target.  Hmmm, I don’t want to put two and two together, but there it is … 

I slept in this morning and haven’t really done anything yet.  It’s wonderful!  I’ve been reading TV show recaps for Battlestar Galactica and Heroes over on the TV Guide website, reading blogs, and checking the weather forecast.  So I have quite literally done nothing this morning.  That will change pretty soon as I have to work out and clean and things like that.  At some point, I really need to call the maids on my list as well as the gutter people.  I’ll worry about that later though.

I have proof that I live in the country (Rich says we live in the suburbs, not the country).  Aside from the fact that there are like ten ranches across the street from where I live, there was a sign on the Feed Store (there’s a big clue!) that said, “It’s time for corn gluten!”.  What does that mean?  Being a city girl, I don’t know, but apparently it means something to people around here.  Hang on, I’m going to google it.  Okay, apparently it’s used to get rid of weeds.  You put it on your lawn, and it takes care of pesky weeds.  Hunh.  That doesn’t sound very ranch-y to me.  It actually sounds kind of Martha Stewart-y.  Well.  Maybe I don’t live in the country.

I went to Anjelica’s baby shower on Sunday.  My sister was one of the hostesses, and being nine weeks pregnant, she is apparently unable to pick up anything that weighs more than her water bottle.  My mom said that soon she’d have to hire someone to carry that water bottle.  It’s ridiculous.  I really get annoyed by people who act like pregnancy is an illness.  You can pick up a Pyrex pan with stuffed mushrooms in it while pregnant!  She also is in the habit of blaming the baby for bodily functions.  It’s like now that she’s pregnant, she can burp and fart in public and it’s okay because the baby makes her do it.  Uh, no, that is NOT okay.  I kind of knew she’d be like this because she is very dramatic about everything, so why would pregnancy be any different?