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...

One Month and One Week Later...

One month and one week later, and I still fucking love Florida more than I even conceived possible.

That’s not to say there isn’t a fair share of idiocy down here. That seems to be a country-wide problem from this perspective…

For example, Craigslist: Three times now I have been on my way to pick something up that someone notified me that I could come pick up. Three times now I have arrived to find out that, “Oh, someone else came before you,” or “Oh, sorry, I ended up giving it to my neighbor.” The all-time pissed-me-off-to-all-high-heaven clincher? “Oh, it was right here. I guess it’s gone now. I don’t know what happened.”

Seriously? What the flying fuck?!?!

Regardless, I have made myself quite a humble home, sans a few comforts I’m dying to have and cannot yet afford (i.e, area rug in the living room, bookcases for my books, internet…) But all in all, it’s not a bad life. I’m tanner than I’ve ever been this early in the summer, I have a job and a roof over my head, and there’s always something to do less than ten minutes away (and is usually very cheap or free). Ergo, I’m not complaining…

Much…

One item of idiocy that does seem in greater supply here than back home is Jehovah’s Witnesses. Granted, the flyers and pamphlets make for great puppy-training materials, but to be disturbed at least once a week by this watch tower magazine, that church service… It’s enough to make one want to claim devil worship as soon as you hear a knock at the door!

Speaking of puppy training material, I know that not all of you, dear reader’s, are friends with me on Facebook, ergo you haven’t met the newest member of my family:

This, dear friends, is Gizmo. All of one pound, two ounces at nine weeks old, he’s the calmest, quietest, sweetest little teacup Chihuahua I think I’ve ever had the pleasure of owning—of course, he’s the first AND last Chihuahua I ever plan on owning. Not that I plan on using him in one of my devil worshiping ceremonies or anything—perish the thought! But when you fall in love with a runt, well, you just kinda have to accept it, adopt him, and move on (proving, in a weird way, that you can fall in love with even the least-likely candidates…). Hawthorne is adapting better to this than Beaux, who still can’t seem to decide whether Gizmo is:

1. something to play with,
   
2. something to eat, or
   
3. something to avoid,

and thus sticks with an “avoid this” philosophy by staying off the ground at all times, hopping from fridge to counter to futon to end table, all in an effort to stay beyond Gizmo’s curious prancing about… Which is probably for the best, at least until Gizmo comes in at a good solid three pounds—the top weight the vet thinks he may achieve… Oy… Three pounds!?!? Gayest dog I’ve ever owned, hands down. In fact, he may replace the way I hold my cigarette as my OGT (Obviously Gay Trait). Let’s face it—we all have an OGT, it’s just that some of us have made more peace with it than others… ☺ (I’m still unsure whether to take the “But you don’t look gay!” comment I’ve had at least three times as an insult or a compliment…) Dumpster diving has also taken on all-new, never-before-attained heights of ecstasy: from the entertainment center (auction value $350 per the masking tape on the inside), the cute little construction table that makes a perfect patio end table, to the two perfectly good pieces of 1x6 that are now being utilized as an indoor shelf… My, my, my, what people don’t throw away! I can only assume brain damage or sun stroke is the culprit for such wastefulness… Hurricane season also starts in TWO WEEKS! While my area of Florida apparently hasn’t had a decent hurricane since 2003 (and many of the locals seem to be of the opinion that we are way past due!), I am looking forward to that niggling feeling of fear as those storm clouds grace the horizon over the ocean, the waves crashing upon the beach in anger, the hustle and bustle that is usually reserved in the northeast for a snowstorm calling for more than an inch… (and yes, I meant “over an inch”… I never said my old home state didn’t have its fair share of imbeciles…). Be that as it may, I’m sure that first hurricane I’ll be all “Oh my god!”—at least, until I get my hurricane legs. And it may be that naive part of myself that thinks a good ol’ hurricane will be great fun, but you know what? I’m still a bit giddy at the thought… Hell, it’s new, ain’t it? And I didn’t move all the way down the east coast for shits and giggles… New and exciting are the order of the week! The month! Hell, for at least the next three years! Anyway, I suppose that’s it for the time being… I’m budgeting to have internet sometime near the end of June, and until then I will continue to type these up on my borrowed computer, flash-drive it, and upload it to the blog from work. I miss being on facebook for a few hours in the afternoon more than anything (as that was my hugest coping mechanism for the loneliness during the end months of my last relationship), and made a great many friends that are hard to stay in touch with from 7 to 3 during the work day—mostly due to the fact that I do work at work, but partially because they are also at work. But not having internet is a small price to pay for the moment, one month and one week out into my new life…