Blergh

ow. sick. ow. pain. sick. cold. strep. sinuses. ow. pain.
and must meet april’s boyfriend’s parents tomorrow.
and must help betsy cook for housewarming saturday.
ow.
hoping for death.

I voted

oh yes I did. Here’s how the whole deal unfolded…
1) Looking at the candidates. Not much new but I hadn’t really looked at the library or the park board people. So I look. Weird. A guy I used to know is running for park board. I never figured him for political or anything, but there it is. So, Jason, I’d have never pegged you for the job, hell, I would never even have figured you wee so into the parks, but I voted for you. What the hell, you know?
2) On the way to the Keewaydin Community Center to vote I twisted my ankle on a rock and fell down bashing my knee. This would be a bigger deal, except I fall down all the damned time. If you ever see a weeble-wobble splayed out on the sidewalk somewhere in minneapolis you can safely assume it is me.
3) I voted, I even carefully wrote down my selections beforehand. I got my red sticker.
4) When you fall down on the sidewalk you get to have a hamburger for dinner. This is a true rule. I got my hamburger.
5) Now I am watching ‘Fishing With John’ with the boy and the doogles. My knee hurts.
Did you vote? You should have!

patterns

Every night we take the dogs out. We sit on the front steps, me on the left, him on the right. We smoke our one cigarette and talk.
We talk about work or dogs or trips or memories or we just make shit up.
Then he walks the dogs around the block so they can poop and I get ready for bed.
When he gets home the dogs race through the house to find me and tell me about everything they smelled and the places they peed.
I crawl into bed while he is checking his stuff on the computer and brushes his teeth. Then he brings me my vitamin, I take my vitamin, hand the glass back and he tells me to drink more. He tells me I need to drink more, he nods when we compromise on how much is enough.
We do this almost every night, slight variations in every step.
I like the pattern and the consistency and I’ve always liked being given a vitamin.

I’m such a whore

I know it’s tacky, but this message isn’t necessarily for you, my beloved readers, but also my mom and dad and anyone else who needs to get me a christmas gift.
Here is my Amazon wish list. The bread machine, the alien quadrilogy, the cheese primer….sigh. Or, for things off the list, bubble bath! I’m always looking for bubble bath and bath related things in citrusy scents. Or dog toys, or kitchen things or a solid gold rocket car or movies or books or chocolate…
I know, I suck, but I’m also all about efficiency.
tonight it’s fake meat chicken and dumplings, comfort food. Big big bowls of comfort food! Saturday was fake meat chicken molé with spiced black beans and rice. I heated the molé too much and it got too thick but did not burn. NTS, d not overheat molé.
Tomorrow, squash risotto.
Just about time to start dinner, David is at class and maybe I can time this out correctly.
oh, also, yes, progress is being made on the new site. I’ve become rather link heavy in my recent posts meking copying them over rather tedious and boring. I’m getting help with color and design now, which is good. Hopefully I can go live with this site soon and get rid of this old one. Last night it started asking me for a password and would not display my images. You’re doing a bang up job, guys! Thanks for being the hosts with the most!
Dinner time. Break it down.

I wish i could

I can’t sing. I can’t parallel park. I can’t make an origami crane. I can’t draw. I can’t run. I can’t make choices.
There is a litany to my day a set of stock responses. I can’t do things. David tells me I just need more confidence, that if I actually tried and practiced I would find that I could do some of these things.
It’s easier, though, to bow out and stop than it is to feel that deep disappointment in myself with every failure. Better to concede victory than to compete.
I wish I did have more confidence. I don’t know where that comes from. It took one offhand comment 16 years ago to make me stop singing just for the love of it. Now I really only ever do it in the car when i’m alone. Sometimes when David is in there, but not often.
Jen’s dad taught me to drive and I could see the immense frustration when it came to parallel parking. I was so retarded at it. I learned enough to pass the test and then made a pact with myself to always park in lots or drive farther to find the spot I could nose into. It’s worked fine. I never do it. No one ever has to point out to me what a terrible parallel parker I am. I already know.
And no one has to point out what a terrible artist I am, I know.
Terrible at music? Yeah, I already know.
Bad eye for colors, can’t design my own website because of some internal retardation. No need to tell me, I already know.
I concede most arguments, or respond with a “what do I know, i’m functionally retarded”. It’s a good response to people question why you do something in a certain way. That way you don’t have to explain that you do something a certain way because it makes the most sense to you or you like it that way or because you think their way is wrong. You just let them know that you’re not so bright and the way you are doing something is probably wrong.
I just wish I knew where confidence came from. I wish I could say stuff with confidence, I wish I didn’t have to qualify almost every damned statement I made. I do know this, it’s much easier to call yourself retarded first than it is to hear someone call you that.