Hell Week ...

A smattering of thoughts:

• My uncle tried committing suicide this week--although he claims not to remember doing any such thing.
• No one but preachers use cross references in a bible, and no one but preachers and those trying to impress others even read the god-damned thing from cover to cover--so why the fuck is it the best-selling book in the world? Vanity, pure and simple.
• People are assholes, which is why school shootings occur. It's at times like these where I agree with Ebeneezer Scrooge in that we need to rid the world of the surplus population--beginning with the shooter in Connecticut today. Although I will say
  • I am against the death penalty and
  • we would start with people like the shooter in Connecticut who did the world a favor and took himself out--just too late to save the non-surplus population
• Russia sucks. Yes, I said it. I mean it. Those poor god damned Russians...
• That last point had nothing to do with anything.
• But I like bulleted points, and I've had a full bottle of pinot grigio... That makes my opinions fact. You didn't realize?

Regardless--or, irregardless, which means the same thing but just sounds plain fancier--in less than 15 days I get to see my mother and father again. And my siblings. And my friends. I'm considering calling the ex for breakfast or lunch or something, but I'm, not feeling exactly charitable, despite the time of year, so that's up in the air... We'll see...

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And I still miss my dog Hawthorne something terrible...

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But there is a new one taking his place. Not that I don;t love Gizmo--the lil guy just tugs a heart-string I didn't know I had! But Maybel... My dear sweet Maybel... Kind, sweet, quiet, shy, gentle Maybel, of unknown parentage (excepting the mother, a black-and-tan German Shepherd whom she doesn't resemble in the slightest), of gentle nature and bottomless heart... I didn't know emotionally (although logically I did) that I could fall for another so soon--dog, that is. Smart as a whip, loving as a--well, a dog? I'm too tipsy to think that much outside the box at the moment, LOL!

IRregardless, it's winding down the end of a long, emotional year. Just a month ago last year, I started a new life filled with anxiety, worry, not just a bit of turmoil, and a hell of a lot of gumption, if I do say so myself. After all, who leaves an unhealthy relationship by moving across the country? Probably those of us too sick in the head to face life head on... Or maybe it's those of us who like to take things to the extreme by going to the exact opposite of what we had been doing for thirteen years? 

Perhaps I should just get a new goddamn therapist already and be done with it. Ce la vie... 

Now French--that's a freaking sexy language!

I've also decided to UNsubscribe from all the right-wing newsletters and bullshit. After all, it does nothing for my mood and everything for my high-blood pressure (which I don't have but would like to avoid, if it's all the same to you...), the breaking point being that asshole from the not-so-much "Family Research Council" using the Connecticut school shooting as a Christmas message! Really? Death to 5-year-olds makes you think "Now is the time to preach about baby Jesus!"? Seriously?? Talk about your surplus population. His ilk should be the next against the wall when the revolution comes... Given humanity's track record, however, that's still too far away... 
 
But where was I? Oh, yes... Surplus populations, amnesiac suicidal tendencies, and a partridge in a fucking pine tree.... 'Tis the season, my lovelies! Embrace the chaos, thrill in the weirdness of life, realize you cannot choose your family even though you can choose to love, and know this--it ain't over til the fat lady sings, and I ain't but sure that unless she top's the Guinness Book of World Records? She ain't the right fat lady... 

Until next time, my friends... I leave you with this tree, which the Blue-eyed Devil and I got for free.... :)

And Then There Were Pictures...

Mom wants pictures. Who can blame her? I'd tell her to join facebook to see this crap, but we tried that before. She logged on when she first got facebook... Then she hopped on one more time, six months later, and then only to delete her facebook account...

Such is the life of a woman old enough to get a senior citizens discount, I suppose. :)

So let's start with the newest addition to our little family, Brunhilda:

Brunhilda's, from what the vet tells us, part labrador, part pointer, and ab one year old. She's the one that went Cujo on the visiting doggie earlier in the week, and thanks to Google and a few facebook friends, we're learning ways to rehabilitate her so that she can be a productive member of the canine family AND be able to join us on visits to the dog beach... Sheme to us with severely lacerated legs and scars and at first it was thought she would have to lose the leg:

This picture doesn't even show the half of it, but no one needs to see how awfully she was treated by her former masters. Suffice it to say most ofthe scars are now fully healed and even growing some fur back. The worst gash still has a one-inch by two-inch gash that gets wrapped twice daily and is slowly but surely healing and beginning to look healthy.

Here's the rest of the canine bambino's:

From closest to furthest away: Kylie (tea cup chihuahua, mother of the next two); Gizmo (three-quarters teacup chihuahua, one-quarter pomeranian); his sister Chloe; Hawthorne; and on the other end of the futon is Mysti, whom Hawthorne is fatally attracted to in the same way he used to be about my brother's dog, Mary...

As soon as all six dogs decide they can all fit on the futon together, I'll snap that shot.

Then there's the two cats, Beaux and Mika:

And yes, that's pretty much all they do. Well, Beaux likes to add "Gecko Killer" in addition to sleeping, but some folks don't like the fact that he's an apex predator around here (if you ignore the fact that alligator's live in this here state), but as alligator's have yet to be found within the confines of my apartment, we should be a-okay...

That's it for now.

Hope all is well in your worlds. Mine, for the moment, is quite hunky-dory...

Reconnecting...

I'm blogging from home... Yes, I know, I know, it's been a long time coming, but all things--okay, okay, most things are worth waiting for, and this was one of them.

So, a couple of things:

1. We can never give Brunhilda to another owner. Not because we've fallen that much in love wirh her... Which we have. But she is definately an unpredictable dog, especially when it comes to other dogs and cats. Luckily she seems to have accepted the current dogs as her pack; however, when a friend came over with her dog? Luckily Brunhilda was crated. She channeled Cujo. I am not exagerrating, although I wish I were. I could not in good conscious give her to another home, a home that probably wouldn't understand her history, and then hear that she killed another animal, bit a person, what have you. (Although I will say, she only ever seems thrilled to meet new people...) However, any time we're meeting new people? She's gonna be in her crate or muzzled. I'm just so glad we have a backyard for her to run in, that she gets along fine with the current pack, and that she obeys are commands (as much as any one-year-old puppy does, that is...) And while part of my heart breaks in that we'll never be able to take her to the dog park or the dog beach with Hawthorne and Mysti, she does have a yard, she does love her pack, and she's gonna be one hell of a guard dog, as shown by the actions she has shown to strangers across the street...
2. Skype will be coming in a bit, but not quite yet. Apparently the combination of older computers with older used camera's that are not of the plug-and-play generation of electronics, means I need to purchase something newer if I expect to videocall the family back home. You live and learn, ya know? Be that as it may, at least it's no longer "one day I'l have internet at home again," but "I do now have internet at home, and things are happening..."

So I'm off to see what further deals I can find, enjoy the company of B.E.D. when he gets home from his afternoon shift, and perhaps--just perhaps--think of all those things I wanted to blog about these last few months and get started...

Six Dogs, Two Cats, and a Partridge in a Palm Tree…

It’s cramped but lovely living, I tell you. Okay, “lovely” might be overstating it a bit—I cannot wait until my VA Loan preapproval comes forth. Not that “love” isn’t in the equation… Of that there is no doubt. However, it is a bit cramped living in a one-bedroom with all the wildlife and whatnot.

A word to the wise—do not, I repeat, do NOT—ever get an all-white apartment. If you do happen to find yourself staring at an all-white apartment, note the way the stove is also painted white—and not in appliance paint. And the toilet. The walls go without saying—they are, indeed, also painted. White. As are the tiles. Well, in truth, the tiles should be white. What they are in reality is an off-white due to the amount of sand and dirt the Florida environment decides the bottom of your feet, sandals, flip-flops and shoes should be dragging around to all points indoors. Not to mention the hair shed by two cats and six dogs…

SIX dogs! you’re thinking. Are you NUTS!? Well, yes. But not bad-nuts, unlike some stupid, idiotic, assholed, dick-faced couple who was using their dog for either dog-fighting or baiting (i.e., using her as bait to train other dogs for fighting). She found an escape and found herself in B.E.D.’s carport, where he found her bleeding, legs gashed open, blood pouring from her wounds, abandoned and lonely and crying…

Being normal human beings (unlike her previous owners), he brought her home and she has begun the healing process, both in terms of physical health, but emotionally learning to trust humans and other dogs again… She has also been dubbed Brunhilde, Visigoth Princess of legend, and who’s name also means “battle armor” or “warrior princess,” depending on which baby-names website you prefer… (It should be noted, I had no idea her name would mean such a thing—I simply thought it sounded like a nice, strong, German name, for her strength and grace in the face of such adversity!) Be that as it may, my mother now has one more grand dog to add to the growing list of the Noah’s Ark-like-life of pets her children own…

Speaking of children…

The B.E.D. and I have also started the long and winding process of foster-parenthood. Or to become adoptive dad’s, depending on how you look at it. Florida having some of the ass-backward laws that it does, we both can’t be the adoptive father’s, so we’ll just have to take turns once the classes have ended and the child-care advocates have started knocking on our door—a door, it should be noted, that will not lead into the interior of a one-bedroom, all-white apartment just outside of Wilton Manors…

Just one more month until the pre-approval comes in for the mortgage…

The classes themselves are a hoot! Between the role-playing, the other couples on the road to foster-parenthood, the teachers and social workers we’re getting to know… It’s definitely worth giving up at least five Saturdays in a row, if only for the making of new friends with common goals and wants in life. (It should be noted here, not that my old and other new friends are lacking in any way, shape or form, FYI…) Of course, there will be further classes to take, hopefully not within the confines of a stuffy, Baptist-church basement, but we’ll cross that bridge when we cross that bridge. Due to the types of children B.E.D. and I are wishing to help and adopt, there will be several other courses after this one, but I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end!

I’m finally facing fatherhood…

And I’m terribly excited. Partially because, unlike pets, they’ll one day go off to college and (hopefully!) become productive members of society, whom I can pass on my values and life lessons, teach and guide and be there for in ways that partners and pets don’t require. Of course, also not like pets, they’ll talk back. Unlike pets, however, they’ll (hopefully!) use the toilets! Also dissimilar to pets, they’ll come with their own sets of values and morals—but that is not something to cringe at. It’ll be another life experience, a chance to expand my own horizons and challenge my own thoughts, to continue to embrace the diversity of human thinking and behavior…

Is it bad that I am hoping, however, that none of them want to grow up to be pastors or priests or rabbis? As long as they’re happy, of course, I’ll be happy… But their ultimate choice of profession…?

Ach, who the fuck cares, right? Parents and caretakers have been shaking their head’s at their children’s choices of profession for years… Why should I waste a thought on that?

I just want to raise children who will learn to be content, be productive, and use the toilet…

I don’t think that’s asking too much… Do you?

It’ll be cramped but lovely living…

Life... And Otherwise...

Yeah, yeah, yeah, get off my back! When you don't have internet at home, it's hard to stay ontop of this "blogging" thing...

But just to recap:

1. Take ketchup with you to the movies. That way, you can squirt it on yourself and play dead while stupid parents bringing 6-month-olds to a midnight screening of the Batman movie can drop dead... From stupidity...
2. I'm taking the first steps to becoming a father--and no, a turkey baster is not involved. Neither is straight sex. Foster parenting classes!! Apparently you can't adopt without them, which makes sense. Something those parent's of the aforementioned 6-month-old could have used, can I get an Amen?
3. I'm getting better and better at avoiding sunburn while staying tan, AND
4. There IS a short-cut from my apartment to the McDonald's with the free wifi, something I am both happy and sad to have discovered. I now find it at least half-a-mile easier to get on here and blog while at the same time exercising less... On my way to McDonald's... You see my conundrum here, yes?

I promise more next time--perhaps even a photo or two...

But until then, my friends...

Enjoy life...

Spare Change...

I have never met so many beggars in all my live-long days…

At every intersection, people are walking in between the parked cars. In front of every store, you hear “Got some spare change?” or “Hey, got a dollar or two?” Pumping gas the other day, a gentleman approached and said, “Hey, help a brother out—I just need to catch the bus to Jacksonville. Got a few bucks?” (Because I look like a brother, I suppose. My parents gave me two brothers through natural childbirth, and my sisters have me two brothers through marriage. I need more brothers like I need another hole in my head.)

I’m still unsure where they get the markers and the cardboard for making their signs and am convinced there’s an underground black-market for markers for the homeless… Have you priced markers lately? They aren’t the cheapest things in the dollar store…

My favorite is the guy who stands in front of Publix on Federal Avenue who denounces the mob…. Or is it the Mafia? Either way, I’m assuming he thinks he’s unemployed due to the Mob/Mafia. I’m like, “Hello, if the Mob/Mafia really were out to get you, you’d be dead!” But there he stands almost every day, switching out this cardboard sign for that cardboard sign, all the while thinking he’s making some kind of change in the world while hoping spare change will come his way…

What an odd phrase: “spare change.” Imagine if every time a major change happened in the world, there was just some “spare change” hanging around. Like we could save it up and then force change in the direction we wanted instead of just reacting to it thusly…

And I just love, love, LOVE the dirty looks they give me, like they’re entitled to the spare change in my pockets (as if I’m in the habit of carrying a shitload of coins in my pocket!) and it is I who am the failed human being for not handing it out like I can spare all the money in the world. Trust me, I wish I could! But when you have a billion homeless and unemployed standing around at every corner, every store, every stop light? Yeah, I started saying “no” about a week after I got here. It’s an automatic response now, which in a way saddens me. The last thing I want is a callous, hard-hearted attitude toward my fellow man, especially those who actually do need the help! But I’m stuck in that old Catch-22 that is American life: Help the helpless, but look down on those who can’t pull themselves up by their own bootstraps! Charity and Condemnation all rolled into one way of life.

And the cigarette bumming? That also is an automatic “No!” now, granted a little more vehemently than the standard “change” query. They’re expensive, dammit! Buy your own goddamn cigarettes! One woman, standing right behind the gas station, peeked her head out as I was walking back toward my car. “Hey, mister, can I bum one?” As she said it, she lifted her skirt ever so slightly, as if promising sexual favors for a cigarette. A look of disgust must have crossed my face (I’ve never been that good at impromptu-emotional-face-blockage) as I blurted, “I just got the freaking pack!” I got a double-fingered California wave and a “Faggot!” before she disappeared back behind the “has seen better days” wall of the gas station… Something tells me she’s seen better days as well. Be that as it may…

Ewwww!

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Last night the BED and I spent a few hours watching some of the few home videos’ my one sister made for me over the years. Seeing the pics and small video clips of everyone back home made me a little teary-eyed. Yet it also made me realize how much happier I am. As I looked at some of those old pictures and photos of myself (more over weight, looking older, tired, worn out) I realized I am happier and more content overall then I was back home. Not that this is a reflection on my family and friends—some of the best a person could ever ask for on this green earth! It had a lot to do with circumstances, both in and out of my control, and a need for some of that spare change that had been lying around, unused and neglected.

I made the change. And I couldn’t be happier.

Now if I could just find ways to market that? I’d be able to hand out some to all the homeless in the greater Fort Lauderdale area…

So to both monetary and intangible spare change… A toast…