because two cranky open letters are better than one

Dear self,

Get off your ass and go to the grocery store already. Yes, I get that you are tired, your head hurts and you really don’t want to but get over your self. You can’t go complaining about people not wearing their grown-up pants and then play on the internets instead of doing your chores. You have responsibilities on Thanksgiving and um a few cans of beans from the pantry is not going to cut it. For serious. I promise it will only be more heinous the longer you put it off so stop your internal bitching (maybe this is why your head hurts?) and get it over with all ready! You bore me. Big damn baby.

PS. You can only have more of that eclair in the fridge if you get this done. Don’t argue.

P.P.S. Don’t forget to re-wash the laundry you forgot about yesterday. Well done, you.

there’s a bad moon on the rise

Yesterday was a full moon and there was a bit of full moon fever going on around here. Isn’t that such a sweet way of saying my day was utter SHIT?

And finally the kicker this morning

Is it too early for scotch?

still in rant mode? shocking!

It’s nowhere near as bad as Florida (sorry for having to deal with that mega bitch Fay, y’all) but we have had rain here for the past 4 days straight. Rain=migraine. No matter how much Topamax courses through my veins there is little that can undo the power of a meteorological pressure system.

On top of that, I can’t stand my son’s bff. I know I’m not going to like everyone that he is friends with and as he grows into full teenagerdom, it’s going to be even less likely BUT I have been struggling with guilt over it. When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time at Jamie’s house. So much time that I feel more like she is my sister than my friend. In high school, I had my own key to their house and even when Jamie and I had grown apart, I still was welcome to go there any time I needed to, for whatever I needed. This friend’s (of sprogs) mother is pretty trashy y’all. She constantly leaves the oldest boy (sprogs friend) in charge of his two younger siblings (the youngest being 5) and goes out dancing or to concerts late at night, while they are home alone. She’ll frequently change plans on the boys at the last minute, totally screwing up everything that I have planned or things we have worked out ahead of time which frustrates the shit out of me. She dresses well below her age and there have been a parade of boyfriends since I have been aware of her.

Because of this and because of all the things that Jamie’s family did for me, I feel like I should swoop in and take on this boy. I feel like I should welcome him in our home with open arms and give him a safe and secure place to go. Unfortunately, there is a problem with that scenario; this kid is a total jerk. He’s a total spoiled brat and given any material thing he wants. He has no respect for me, my home or my things. I’ve had to yell at them for having airsoft gun fights in my living room, for trying to “carpet surf” down the hallway which has a wall of pictures on it,  he never says thank you for anything and takes advantage of any kindness we show. Whenever the sprog is around him for prolonged periods of time, he starts behaving the same way. He starts expecting more expensive clothes and shoes. He starts forgetting that he has manners.

This afternoon this boy’s 5 year old little brother was just dumped on my doorstep. Um. What if I have somewhere I need to be? You don’t just pull up in front of my house and leave him here. She didn’t even ask. It was “I’m taking kid 1 and kid 2 to Academy so kid 3 needs to hang here for a while” and poof gone. (none of this was said to me or even sprog it was conveyed through the 5 year old) Of course it wasn’t the mother, it was some friend of the mother because the mother is gone again. What the hell is that? No wonder the friend of boy is such an entitled jerk! You can’t just expect that someone is going to babysit for you, for free, just because you said so. Bonus fun fact, they have never met me. How do you just leave your 5 year old with a woman you have never met before?


miss manners

I mentioned yesterday that my greatest pet peeve is a sense of entitlement, well second in line is RUDENESS. I have bitched about this before but guess what? I’m about to bitch about it again! Me, complaining? What are the odds?

some etiquette

Just a head’s up, people of the world, I know that mornings are hard and The Egg and I has incredibly tasty breakfasts but that is no excuse for answering to a name other than your own in line. NO EXCUSE. Willy is a very distinctive name and as often as people laugh when it is called, pronounce and spell it wrong, WE KNOW when we are called, okay? You know damn well that your name is not Willy or Willey even. DO NOT answer to our name so that we continue to sit outside in the 150 million degree heat wondering what the hell is taking so long, only to find out that some jack-ass has taken our spot. It’s unbelievably rude.

Be lucky that the idiot twins were the ones running the show and couldn’t have pointed you out of a line-up, because I would’ve remembered where I sat anyone answering to that name and TRUST, I would’ve called you on your shitty behavior. This is NOT how adults behave.  Thank you for starting my morning by causing me to sweat my ass off unnecessarily and put me in a bad mood. Thank you for reminding me why people suck and why I frequently proclaim my hatred of humankind. As if it’s not bad enough to have a man walk directly in front of me at the grocery store and reach into the cooler that I was looking at, to grab what he need without so much as an excuse me the other day, now I get cut in front of WITH MY NAME ON THE FUCKING LIST.

what’s in a name?

My lovely friend Jennie has recently announced that she’s pregnant! HOORAY! Of course, the subject lead to baby names and the best name Gabriel Ethan. A good solid “fake italian” name to go with their VERY ITALIAN last name, if you ask me. Which, MIKE, you SHOULD be asking me because I no longer have any plumbing of my own and the sprog is the only spawn that I shall have walking this earth. (am I pulling at the heartstrings enough there? I’m really trying, Jennie!)

You know what is a really BAD name for a child, arguably the WORST name IMO? Murphy. No one should ever name their child Murphy. Because other than Murphy Brown (which lets face it, that’s not even that much of a saving grace, am I right?) the only other example of that name is Murphy’s Law and how much DOES THAT SUCK? Only someone that HATES their kid would name them Murphy.

Of course, that is the reason for my blogging at this unreasonable hour today. MURPHY’S LAW: YOU FUCKING SUCK AND I HATE YOU. I’ve been up for the better part of 2 hours now with, to put it delicately, tummy issues. Tummy issues that have had me running, back and forth to the bath room so much that I just gave up and got out of bed. Is it something I ate or did I catch the mystery stomach virus the dogs have been passing to and fro for the last couple of weeks? Who knows. What I do know is that I leave for Blog Her on Thursday. I have bought cute shoes! I have bought expensive jeans! I have ordered business cards (which by the way are late, even though I paid for express shipping.)

In addition, I am working on a sinus infection. I blew my nose the other day and wow was that fun. I’m not even going to bother going to the ENT. Wanna know why? The anti-biotic he ALWAYS gives me just got issued a black box warning from the FDA. ISN’T THAT AWESOME? Apparently it’s responsible for tendon tears. The last drug combination he gave me would’ve had the side effects of hip degeneration and tendon tearing. WHAT THE FUCK?? I am probably going to be in tears from the cabin pressure on the plane but it’s better than the alternative.

And now for the whopper of Murphy’s Law at the house right now (as if all that wasn’t enough) I get to worry that we are going to be robbed the whole time I am gone. Wednesday an alarm salesman showed up at my door. This happened about a month ago but it was a different company. We have a brinks alarm on the house and there is a sign in the yard so people come and try to get us to change over to someone else…but there is also a scam involving alarm systems and I am aware of that. Anyway, this guy was creepy as hell AND we have a no soliciting policy in our neighborhood anyway. So I walk outside away from the house so he can’t look in and see what we have. I made sure that Mayday had come to the door with me so she could bark and snarl and generally scare the crap out of the dude first and left her in the doorway for good measure. He starts his spiel by bringing up the name of a neighbor that lives around the corner, WHO I DON’T KNOW, and then goes on to tell me this guy is mad. This guy is mad because Collin here has informed him of the flaw in alarm systems. That thieves could just cut the phone lines running at the back of your house “and then where would you be?” Um. Dude, threatening me is not going to get you ANYWHERE. From there he went on to explain their system has some new cellular bolt on that is INSIDE the house so it’s better and he asked to go inside and look at my boxes to see if they would work with their equipment. To which he swiftly got a no, that’s not happening. He repeated the problem with the phone lines and asked me if I understood. I responded that I did but he wasn’t getting in my house and I wasn’t interested in what he was selling. That he was welcome to discuss it with my husband when he got home from work but I was going back inside.

Dude. He CAME BACK. I was just relaying the story to Wills after picking him up from the park-n-ride (oh the Mustang? the dealership had it for 5 fucking days, people, and they never gave us a loaner or rental car) when the doorbell rang. Wills went outside and asked him for his badge. See, to work in our neighborhood, the HOA has to have issued you a badge. Of course he said it was “in process” but didn’t have one. So Wills was like yeah, I’m not interested, time to go. He did the same thing. Repeated his spiel and questioned our decision to have him go and then kept staring at Wills as he SLOWLY walked away. Wills got so creeped out, he walked inside and immediately called our HOA. He also watched him for a while to see where he was going and what he was doing.

The next night? Someone kicked in our back fence. They broke the lock off, knocked down a post and busted the bottom of one of the pickets. Seems like an awful coincidence, no? Thankfully we have a tree that is pushing up roots right there and it’s incredibly hard to get that gate open, plus the dogs raised all sorts of hell (of course we didn’t know why at the time, I didn’t find it until the morning when they escaped through it) which I’m sure stopped whoever it was. So yeah. I am going OUT OF TOWN and am going to leave my house with crazy ass, possibly fake alarm system guy with a vendetta wandering around out there. That’s not going to stress me out AT ALL. The current plan is to have my sister take me to the airport. The alarm guy knows that I was home in the middle of the day and knows my car so I’m leaving it here. Wills will leave the tv on and at least one of the dogs out in the house so it looks like someone is home. All the doors and windows will OBV be locked and I always have all the blinds drawn so no one can easily see into any of the windows.

I mean, I know it’s just stuff and we have homeowner’s insurance but if we were to be robbed, it’s the sense of safety that would be broken. I’m already feeling  less safe and the only thing that has happened, so far, is a broken fence. I’ve lived here (in this neighborhood) for 10 years and this is the first time I have felt like this.

can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?

Do you remember the days when neighbors meant girls like Winnie Cooper and Donna Pinciotti or guys like Kevin Arnold and Eric Forman? When shows like Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood were all about how great it was in our neighborhoods? I remember, as a kid, watching moving trucks with fascination and excitement for what was sure to be my new best friends, as long as they had kids-of course.

My street was fairly typical and safe for the times, though I haven’t always had the best of luck with neighbors. It started young too. I used to think my next door neighbor D.J. was super cool. His mom was married to one of the guys in the band Alabama at one time but he lived with his dad so he didn’t see her much, he had a tarantula and taught us the trick about spraying your hand with hair spray and then setting it on fire. Like I said, super cool. That all changed when his dad got the Russian mail order bride and things got all Silence of the Lambs over there.

See, my dad grew things. We had a garden in the back yard and at one point he even had a greenhouse, so we spent a lot of time out back. Some things he grew were legal and some things, well… not so much but that’s not really the point. I had pet bunnies in addition to our dogs and was out back tending to my rabbits when I heard weird noises coming from next door. I peeked through a hole in the fence and like Clarice, I can still hear them screaming. The neighbor woman and her mother were butchering their rabbits. I wish I had never looked through that hole. I will spare you the details but suffice it to say that the PETA people would not be happy with her, nor would they enjoyed seeing her little daughter wearing a rabbit fur that fall.

My next memorable neighbor was the couple around the way that had the doberman named Baron for his love of attacking people. Baron was short for Red Baron after his love of blood. Isn’t that charming? Of course my father befriended these people; of course I got bit. The dog had my entire head in his mouth one afternoon and his owner had to pry his jaws off of my head. We also were over there one time for a luau where they roasted a whole pig in the ground hawaiian style.

Next door to them was Dougie, my mentally handicapped charge. I babysat him off and on until he was into his 20’s. I will always remember him for his little red wagon and his love of spiderman. He had a record player and we would listen to his spiderman records whenever I would watch him. He eventually came to school at my high school. Sometimes he would actually recognize me in the halls. I always liked those days because I got a huge hug and a smile. He was such a sweet boy. I volunteered for Special Olympics because of him and had the best time ever.

In Texas, I’ve had a lot more difficult time “making nice with the neighbors” not because they are worse (though as you will see, some of them DEFINITELY ARE) but more that I’ve changed I guess. When I first moved here I moved around a lot and had bad relationship problems. I moved here for a guy and straight out of high school, who turned out to be a crystal meth addict. He stalked me, stole my car and threatened me numerous times. I crawled into a shell; it’s kinda hard to meet people that way.

I’ve lived in a lot of apartments which gives you your typical cast of characters. Too many drunks, too much loud sex you can hear through the walls, people that are cheating and wives or husbands who come looking for them, bill collectors or repo men that come looking for people, kids that run up and down stairs at all ours of the night, people that vacuum at 11pm and move every piece of furniture while doing it-leaving the vacuum running the entire time, people that you swear must be bowling in their apts, etc.

My first husband and I got our first rent house in Tomball, in what seemed like a quiet enough neighborhood-little did we know what we’d be living next to. Imagine if you will a large sectional sofa, velvet paintings, a large tv with pliers for the channel changer and now put everything outside in a garage, there you have our neighbor’s living room. He always had a buddy with him and at first we thought they were just really close, then we realized he lived there too. I don’t think we ever got a straight answer as to how many people lived in that house but he did tell us that one of his daughter’s was “breedin age” (no, I am NOT KIDDING) and if we wanted her to babysit our “youngin” just let him know as she was already “watchin’ all the other ones it wasn’t no big thang to add another un”. To round out the picture let me add that he looked exactly like Charles Manson, his truck was on blocks after two months of us living there and someone poisoned his mangey dog.

My second rent house is in a great neighborhood (it’s the same neighborhood we live in now just further back) and for a while everything seemed peaceful with the neighbors. I didn’t really know anyone. I really do keep to myself. The sprog serves as the ambassador to the neighborhood. He could be garnering peace treaties or in the case of some of the neighbors, he could be working on war (I’ll explain that later) you never know, but still I’d rather send him out on the front lines than deal with it myself :)
I had minor issues with noise complaints because of the dogs but I knew exactly who complained on me and they moved away. As you get older, I find you start to dread when people move away, the devil you know is frequently easier to deal with than the devil you don’t. In the case of that house, the replacement neighbors brought with them Tejano music parties all day long on Sundays, they brought domestic violence calls and people showing up at my door wanting rides to the pawn shop. I preferred the people that called the cops on me because my dogs barked that one time or complained when I didn’t mow my grass frankly. On top of that, these little fucksticks kept busting the fence boards to get through to the bayou all the time and we’d have to constantly replace them. It was getting really tiring being there, so when one of my co-workers was looking to buy that house after we vacated it, I had to tell her it wasn’t the best idea.

Now I had very high hopes coming into this house, it’s so peaceful and quiet here. The front half of the neighborhood is older and more settled by families and seems to have less of the problems that have started to plague the area that we just left. Unfortunately, the next door neighbors on one side have the yip yap dogs from hell that my Mayday would love desperately to kill. Some of you may remember the incident when we first moved in, we haven’t forgiven the neighbor for turning us into Animal Control after she said she didn’t and things are obviously strained. You don’t tell someone you want them to have their dog put down and then try to be friends with them. On the other side of us, the woman is out of her damn mind. This is where the sprog is brokering war. Apparently the kids being out in the street on their skateboards makes her go all bat shit insane and she pulled to the side of the street and screamed at them a little while ago. Not only that but she went zooming around in her car and went back over there, made one of them take her to his house so she could talk to his parent. She showed up at my house one day IN HER BATHROBE with print outs of sex offenders in our neighborhood “out of concern for my son”. Um. Who are you to be concerned for my child? We don’t even know you lady! A few months ago you tried to mow him down with your car! Just today, she came to tell me that one of the branches in my big tree is rubbing the other branch and with this wind, she’s worried about it falling on my car. Well, let me just grab my chainsaw and get right on that. I know the branch is rubbing, what the hell do you expect me do to about it in the middle of the damn day? Half the back of her house is rotted and falling OFF. Her gutters are hanging on by a thread and one of them is touching the ground and she’s worried about a tree that has been standing for over 50 years? WTF?

Directly across from us, the house is for sale and if it ever sells, I shudder to think who is going to buy it.

There was an incident today with the boys that made this post spring to my mind. One of the boys (not my boy because otherwise I’d be in jail right now) was jumped by a 20-ish year old male after said male grazed the kid with his truck. The boy obviously freaked out, yelled at the guy and the guy stopped his truck, got out and manhandled the kid. This kid has scrapes, bruises (possibly a black eye) and lost the splint for his already broken in two places pinky. I lost my shit when I found out. I also went looking for the truck in question but sadly it was not there at the time but I was able to recover his splint. The kid’s aunt hopefully is doing the right thing and involving the police. I just have to say WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE? You hit a kid with your truck and your solution is to then BEAT HIM UP? On what planet is this OKAY?

This is definitely not Sesame Street. Bat Shit Crazy Street maybe… but we are a LONG DAMN WAY from Sesame Street.

the antidote of l*o*v*e

So I did the love list and I feel there needs to be the counterpoint. Thunderously Awesome was the trailblazer and did his first and this morning I was debating a blog about fear or this one and as I woke up in the land of sinus, obviously HATE is the one that won out.

So yeah most people say that hate is wrong and we shouldn’t use that word. That you should run around full of sweetness and light and all free love and hippie spirit without the b.o. and dirt-if you feel that way, this is not the blog for you. I’ll try not to launch into a full blog about the many ways I hate specific people or anything… but no promises.

I hate the Pam cooking spray commercial where they spray it into the cooking water for spaghetti. NO! You don’t put that shit into pasta water, then the sauce can’t properly grab the pasta and you have watery noodles. What the hell? I hate commercials that make you realize you could do a better job and those people make a hell of a lot more money than you do. I hate earworms and songs that you can’t stand being in your brain for days on end.

I hate Daylight Saving Time. It’s not one hour on a weekend. It’s weeks of my body trying to get re-adjusted on feeding and sleeping schedules. My internal clock is HIGHLY regimented, adjusting it is a huge pain in the ass. Bonus, I am from Arizona, where the clocks never change.

I hate the smell of meat that has gone bad and when you didn’t realize it was bad until you pulled it in the middle of preparing a meal. I hate food poisoning. I hate being allergic to shellfish and being married to someone who LOVES the stuff. Not because I have any desire to eat it (lobster is a BUG people) but because I have almost been killed 3 times already in the course of our marriage.

I hate Bobby Flay’s smug ass attitude and his show Throwdown. For the love of god, you can’t just let people be good at something? You have to show them up on national tv? You asshole.

I hate neglectful parents and people that use their craptastic childhoods as a crutch to perpetuate craptastic childhoods for their own children. I hate being in spaces where the tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. I hate family drama. I hate that people have a hard time understanding the difference between family and relatives and look at you like you are insane when you see a very clear line.

I hate seeing the perfect shoe and it not being in my size. See also perfect dress, pants and jeans.

I hate seeing people or animals suffer.

I hate wet socks.

I hate cleaning up vomit. I will clean up most other things but vomit. Eww.

I hate nightmares.

I hate it when you have verbal diarrhea and can’t stop yourself.

I hate people that have no concept of right and wrong, no concept of personal space, no concept of YOU DON’T STEAL PEOPLE’S SHIT, YOU DON’T RAPE PEOPLE, YOU DON’T RAPE CHILDREN. GAH STABBY HATE!

I hate that people like Paris Hilton and Kim K. are famous for being famous. I hate that teachers are overworked and underpaid and our school systems are shite. Oh and speaking of, have I mentioned my hate for selfish and self-absorbed? Yeah.

I hate road rage and stupid drivers. We are all trying to go someplace. Driving like a fucktard, isn’t helping ANYONE.

Coughing without covering your mouth. Sweet jesus. I don’t want MORE of your fucking germs on me. We learned this shit in KINDERGARTEN. People with no manners? Yeah. Hate!

Women that act like morons so that men will like them better… or women will find them less threatening. That is a self-fulfilling prophecy, pretending to be a moron MAKES you a moron. HATE.

I hate migraines.

I hate sensationalist news.

Tom Cruise.

homesick-like woah

So does anyone else remember Mya? If you do, you may also remember that her love is like woah. When that video came out I was like woah, hold up there Mya, talk about EGO. You keep going on about how everything you have is all woah and people are going to think that something else is pretty damn woah, your big ass head. I mean I’m all down for some belief in yourself but come on, that’s a bit much. Or maybe I’m just jealous because I can’t list a whole bunch of my things that are like woah, write a song about them and get PAID to do it. Then again, anyone know where the hell Mya is right now? Maybe writing the “woah” song was her downfall. At any rate, I get a kick out of using it as a descriptor.

From the title, I’m sure you can guess how I am feeling right now. I want to go home. You people and your damn changing of the clocks PISS ME OFF. Don’t give me that “but in the fall we gain an hour” bullshit neither. (neither? OMG-that is another reason I’d like to go home please, do you HEAR how I talk?) Twice a year, my internal clock gets all jacked up against the rest of the clocks in the house and I HATE that shit.

Also, my allergies are totally kicking my ass. Being outside yesterday for an hour or so shooting did not help matters. Back home? I never had allergies. As long as I didn’t roll around in the bermuda grass for very long, I was totally kosher. I’m going back out shooting today. I expect to be woken up tomorrow morning with a sore throat just as I did today. Maybe I’ll go buy some damn benedryl and knock my ass out tonight.

Yet another reason to miss home? I’m shooting landscapes for PhotoPie this week…there are no MOUNTAINS. There are no CLIFFS. There are BUILDINGS. There are FREEWAYS. There is TRAFFIC and MILDEW. It’s UGLY here. Can I BITCH about that just a little bit more? I haven’t seen a mountain in a year this month and I am starting to get that itch. I feel like once a year I have to go home and recharge, I have to get my feet into the clay and look up into the rocky outcroppings. I have to see some pokey cactus around me and smell the desert air. I can hear Sedona calling me. Technically Sedona is not my home as I was born in Mesa but it is where I always go when I get back to Arizona. I don’t feel like my trip has been as complete, as fulfilling as it could’ve been if I haven’t been there. I can fudge that a bit if I’ve been out of town and into the desert but Sedona proper is like a deep calming breath.

This one is from 2006 Slide Rock in Sedona and was taken by Wills:
Slide Rock Sedona
We only had our point and shoot Nikon which has since died and a 35mm film Canon at during this trip

Here is Monument Valley
Monument Valley

This is just outside of Flagstaff
Outside Flagstaff

and this is snow moving into the Grand Canyon
Snow moving into the Grand Canyon

These are from 2007 hiking.

Two words: Stone and glass

Emily posting gorgeous pictures of Pyramid lake is only deepening my homesickness. I know with the two trips we have planned for this year, I’m not going to get to go home and it’s making me really sad. (One big family trip and then me going to BlogHer) Money only goes so far and being a grown up means sometimes you have to accept the truth, but it doesn’t mean I don’t pout on the inside. Given the nature of this blog, apparently I also pout on the outside. :)

Last night we went to see Ian Moore @ The Continental Club and he said that going to see a Rock Show helps you forget about what is bothering you for a while and he’s right. I didn’t think about this stuff at all while I was there. It was a nice little break from the internal whinge I have going on. I also shot a crap ton of pictures so there’s that distraction as well. Ian is a fantastic musician, but he makes the funkiest faces when he sings. Seriously. If you’ve never seen him, it’s pretty interesting to watch and pretty hard when you are trying to photograph. I totally recommend catching his show. He’s also a dick, but that’s neither here nor there.

This is his trumpet player. I need to spend more time going through the ones of Ian before they get loaded. I also need to start watermarking things.

Emily, how do you add your border? I was thinking of doing a border (not yours, I promise I won’t copy) but I don’t know how!

i’m the approachable type

Last night was the democratic primary here in Texas. It was also the “texas two-step” in that we caucus for the other 1/3 of our vote. I already voted last week but I also showed up last night to caucus. My precinct was a giant ass clusterfuck. There is no way to put it nicely. At 7pm the line to vote was still all the way out the door. Inside the first set of doors it snaked all the way round and then I was sent through a second set of doors to the school cafeteria where we were all being housed. They had 4 precincts in there but mine is my far the largest of the bunch and apparently made up of people that all waited until yesterday to vote.

I brought the sprog with me thinking it was important for him to see democracy in action. Now he has seen improper planning in action. He may never vote in his lifetime. He got to hear the bitchy people next to us complain because people were handing out stickers. Obviously, they were not Obama supporters. He got to listen to the life story of the lady who sat down on the other side of me, who then listened to my phone conversation with Wills and proceeded to question me on my parenting style. No joke.

aside: Wills was doing his caucus in his precinct. He never changed his voter’s registration from his old apt, so his precinct is down in midtown. Wills was done 2 hours before me. 

By 9:30 I still hadn’t even been signed in. People were still FUCKING VOTING. I had frantically gotten ahold of June and had the sprog picked up, as he has TAKS today and needed sleep. Oh I should mention neither of us had eaten dinner at this point because he not only came home late from playing but brought a friend with, who I definitely was not going to feed. Our precinct captain hadn’t shown up so we had to take volunteers and I went for it; I figured with how shoddy this whole thing was being done, at the very least I would be fast enough to get things moving. This pushy ass woman was campaigning by the time I got to the front and had the votes of her friends…we opted to draw names out of a hat instead. Ha! She turned to me in hushed tones and said, “These Obama people are trying to take over.” Um. Excuse me? What makes you think, Ms Sylvia Gonzales (oh yes, I’m calling her out), that I’m not an Obama person? I could be a Lesbian Republican for Obama for all you know, lady; you don’t know me.  She ended up having her name drawn anyway and the internal groan? TRUST it was loud.

They finally started lining us up around 9:45. Mind you people are STILL VOTING. You aren’t allowed to actually caucus until the voting is done so all we were allowed to do was sign in. As people finished voting they walked right into our line. What the hell is WRONG WITH YOU?  You see people waiting in a long ass line, you walk to the END OF IT. You don’t just cut into it. I don’t know why the people in the line just let them continually do it, too. Our line did not move for the longest damn time. At some point they called up the line that had already signed in and said they would be helping them first. Oh I know I didn’t just hear that. They were going to make the rest of us that were waiting in the sign in line, wait and let the ones that already signed in, vote, then sign us in and let us vote.  This woman in front of me marched over there and raised some hell. Then they decided that they’d do both at the same time. Banner fucking idea there Sylvia. Banner fucking idea.

Oh point of note, our actual precinct captain did finally show up but BACKED OUT and let her continue to work it. Isn’t that AWESOME? That’s how bad this was. Continuing on. The guy in front of me decides to pass the time by telling me about his back problems and how they are caused by emotional problems. Yeah. Lack of oxygen caused by emotional problems. It’s a diversion that your body throws up because you need to deal with your childhood trauma. I mentioned that I have migraines and he was all OMG you need to read this book it will change your life!!! So I asked him, “If I’ve dealt with my childhood traumas what then?” He told me I must still be in denial. L fucking O L on that one dude. While he’s enlightening me on this, the woman behind me cuts in line. I notice and mention it loudly enough for her husband who is sitting behind us to hear me. She looks over at me and I look at her, to which of course she looks at the floor. You obviously know what you are doing is wrong if you won’t look me in the eye, why do it? We are all tired. We are all in the same long ass line. SHAME ON YOU. I seriously abhor rudeness, almost as much as stupidity. You’re on my list random woman in line, right next to Sylvia G.

As I’m standing there I begin to see that the room is now near empty. We aren’t going to have enough delegates for our HUGE precinct with an empty room, so of course I muse about that fact out loud. My lovely incompetent acting precinct captain gets up and stammers about people needing to stay for delegates because we need one of each: old, young, man, woman, etc. THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS!! GAH STABBY HATE. The guy next to me notices that I voted early and comments how that didn’t help me much with the line. I reply that I had a line when I voted last week. I had a line at the rally. I have a line now. I’m all about the line. The other girl at the table checking id told me I was a good sport. Point for me!

When I finally get up there at 10:30 to sign in Sylvia again whispers to me about the “Obama people” and how they are winning in a very pissed off voice. I say nothing and just fill in my information when I finally get to the square where I get to vote OBAMA, those are the best caps I have written in my life (I know you can scarcely believe it with how much I yell in here). I slide the paper back at her and she responds “oh”. Yeah.

I really wanted to stay so we’d have enough delegates but after all that I still had a half a mile walk to my car in the dark (no street lights) alone and then the drive all the way to mid-town to get Willy. We ate dinner close to midnight last night.

After the shitty ass day I had with the doctor and all the drama with my bitchy ass sister in law, I was really disappointed by last night. I was so excited to be participating in such a major event and to have it be such a giant mess is a huge let down. I really wanted the sprog to be motivated by it and be a part of the process in the future since his father is such a negative influence in that arena but last night really hurt that effort I feel.

Also, I don’t know what it is about me that makes people feel they can confide in me about “them”. They always come at me in hushed tones and make little snide remarks and that group or those people they remark about? It’s always ME. I’m always in the group they are dissing and they never expect it. What up with that?