The hunt continues

Holy f***balls, batman. I have been at this birthday hunt thing for damn near two months now. I have also been on the mission to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. My kitchen table is somewhere under a pile of birthday ideas, coupons, birthday gifts, too many magazines, and clippings of ideas for the yurt. Today Mike is going to Portland for more thumb stuff. He is also on a mission for the ever elusive "it" present. Hopefully he comes home successful. If not, I will be sending a box of "almost 'it' presents", and posting a painfully long blog whining about the greatest birthday idea I've ever had... and then crashing and burning. At which point I will also be saying the age old classic, "It's the thought that counts, right?" Of course I know it's the thought that counts really, but I would really like this particular thought to make it to fruition. Off I go now, back to the chase!

Mass shootings and high speed chases

Obviously the posts have been few and far between these days. Trying to beat down resurfacing demons is time consuming. More than likely the subject of the last sentence will not be discussed here. None the less, there are also the ever present family/money/damn-it-I'm-out-of-wipes-again? problems circling in my brain. This weekend however proved to have a little more in store for the excitement department.

On Saturday nine people and a gunman were shot in front of some night clubs in the Portland downtown area. As much of you are aware I'm sure, the Pacific Northwest is more known for it's hippies than it's violence. Needless to say, this was the worst shooting in the city's history.

Last night Mike and I were watching Katt Williams on television when we heard sirens. We hear sirens often as the ambulance passes by here to go to Woodland eight hundred times daily. This time there was obviously several of them. Now, bear in mind that I think Mike might be a closet Looky-loo, or Siren Chaser, if you will. Up he jumps, and off to the window. I decided to follow. By the time I got to the window he was already hopping excitedly. I peered through the blinds expecting to see a couple of ambulances, maybe there was a bad wreck or something, right? Nope, there were at least 10 police cars racing towards us from Longview, hot on the tail of a car that I managed to miss, as it did not have shiny flashing lights. *Chuckle* What can I say, my eyes are automatically drawn to, "ooh shiny", as Mike calls it.

There is a silver lining to the shooting story that I believe I forgot to mention. The shooterdid shoot himself, but didn't manage to die. That's right, they saved his ass. Maybe for once, one of them will have to think about what he did.

Busy Busy Bee

Wow, I'm a veritable chicken with it's head removed these days. It doesn't feel like I've sat down in days. Phoenix's capacity to learn and retain new things is nothing short of astounding. He definitely keeps me on my toes. It is a welcome challenge to try and find new things that he can absorb. Mikey got a thumb this week. We've spent a goodly amount of time playing music and finding the limits of this prototype. If it works well, then we'll be on our way to a more permanent set of prosthetics. Also this week I have found myself hovering around the phone a lot. The BFF is in turmoil and I lie in constant wait of an update on what's happening in her life/feelings/village. There are many people cocooning her at the moment. I am filled with warmth knowing that they are there, and so I will gladly wait my turn. There is of course, the never ending swirl of familial drama. I shall spare you the details. We lost water for a few days. I'll go ahead and save that for later. None the less, when the city got it's head out of its arse, I then had two days worth of laundry/dishes/all the bowls that had to be filled with water/anything involving water to clean. *sigh*. Lastly, there is the ritual new year cleaning that I try to pretend I do not do. Who wants to start the new year without a little reorganization? Yeah, I know. Nobody else looks forward to the storage revamp except me. Oh well.

Sluggish in the Snow

The snow started to fall again yesterday. A collective sigh was heard all over Kalama. Except for in my home. I love the snow. Watching it fall soothes me. It's also good for keeping random people from knocking on my door. I know what your thinking, how many random people could come a calling? Especially if you've ever been here. Our inept FedEx driver seems to get lost every time anyway. But that is besides the point. It's snowing again, and this time I am almost completely prepared. So as I watched it fall yesterday, I said a silent prayer that it wouldn't stick until this evening. Because of course the day after it started to snow, is the day that we were planning our trip to stock up on the groceries. The ground is still clear as of this moment, and hopefully he gets out the door and back with a quickness because it's about to get coooolllllddddddd. Damn it, I wish I had some Wassail.

Right In The Nick Of Time

It's snowing...technically it is still the first of the year!!!

Okay Snow, what the f*ck?

For days and days the reports have been loud and long. "Cold Snap Coming!." Everywhere you go, someone is asking if you are prepared to hunker down for the coming days. It was supposed to get to the really cold part starting yesterday, and going all the way to next Saturday. Don't get me wrong, it's colder than it's been here since, I believe it was, 1993. Whatever the exact year, it was when Mike was a freshman in high school, so it was a while back. *Smile* The wretchedly ironic thing about the weather right now is this. This is Washington, it rains here from, oh I don't know, September to June/July, but it rarely gets cold enough to snow. We are usually hovering just about freezing. Thus we have, really, really, fucking really cold rain for the most part. So here we are, it's twenty-two degrees outside. Is it too much to ask for a drop of precipitation or five?
Oh wait, there was yesterday. How could I forget yesterday? When it did snow all day, it just only stuck for a few minutes at a time.

Happy December

My parents are safely home and the snow has begun to fall. Yesterday it was snowy when I woke up, but it all melted off by mid-morning. Today is the big day that all the weather channels have been talking about. Honestly, I expected to wake up and find the ground already covered in white. Not yet, but it is snowing out there. For some reason, just the thought of the impending cold snap, has left me wanting to sit around and be lethargic.
This time the house wasn't as insane as it usually is after company. So it was nice to be able to relax relatively quickly after all the excitement. There were cookies and laughing and a gift wrap tornado before all was said and done. Dad didn't manage to get his haircut from Susan, but we survived. *smile* Phoenix was pleasantly surprised with a new drum pad. (I think Mike was also pretty excited about the new drum pad. To my utter delight, was a new Guitar Hero game. I have played quite a lot in the last few days. Hmm maybe that has something to do with the lethargy regarding everything else. *Smile* There was ton of other things too. A new mixer, a new travel mug coffee pot thingy, clothes. You get the picture. *Grin*
The Christmas cookie plates did manage to make it to the neighbors the night before my parents arrival, I am happy to report. In other awesomeness, someone liked my cookies so much that she bought me a plant! I was excited, because I really wanted a poinsettia and wasn't planning on being able to get one. Attached to the bow was a little toy jeep for Phoenix. I thought that was really nice of her. Anyway, off to wait for the snow to stick.

When OCD's collide

Okay I admit it, I have a problem with incessant cleaning. It could be worse though...right? I am continually bleaching, and sweeping, and mopping, and laundering... you get the point. So a few days ago, when I literally had nothing left to clean, I picked up one of my old video games. When I got my guitar hero, I had to try to get a one hundred percent on everything. I had to buy all the extra guitars, and songs, and whatever other accoutrement there was to be had. When I got my dance dance revolution, I had to try every single fricken song before I could try something else. When I got each of my Final Fantasy's I spent enormous amounts of time making my characters "awesome". Final Fantasy Ten was a good hundred and fifty hours of time I'll never get back. But at least then I had two things to do, go to work at my kick ass job, or play my play station. Hey I was 21 okay? I could have been way worse. So the other day when I busted it out for the I think third time, I figured, what the hell, I won't over do it this time, I'm much older. Last night when there were five dishes in the sink and I was feeling guilty about them, but too busy making my characters more uber, I came to a realization, rather two realizations. One, I will always have some kind of mild OCD. (But truth be told, I don't think having a tidy house, is a bad one, after all I could need to repeat the same action 8 times every time). And two, the only thing that will stop me from OCD cleaning, is *sigh* OCD something else, usually video game related. Oh well, I've heard guys dig chicks who play video games. Mike doesn't complain about it anyway. Lmfao

Pickles and Peanut Butter

First off where have I been lately? I was watching one of those "I Love The New Millennium" shows the other day when they said something about McDonald's having pancakes with syrup in the middle of them. Gross, but not the point. Apparently these things have been around since 2005. Now, I rarely go to McDonald's, but I managed to miss every one of their commercials for the last three years. It's okay being as my Not-better-half tells me they are highly annoying. Anyway I just thought that was funny.
On to the pickles and the peanut butter. Yesterday we went on a picnic with Mike's parents. Boy was I lucky to be nauseous and save my sandwich for later, for I would have missed out on what I thought was an interesting take on cuisine, and an entertaining conversation. So when I do decide that it is cool enough outside I take a giant bite out of said sandwich. "Oh God, it's miracle whip". I am so lucky that I didn't do that in front of his dad because he did his best. Besides it's not the guys fault he prefers sugary mayonnaise type stuff. This sets us off on a conversation of foods that he ate growing up, that I had never fathomed putting together. He ate things like "finger sandwiches", which are so not what you are thinking right now. They consist of hot dogs cut in half so it looks like you are eating a sandwich of actual fingers. He also likes to mix his tuna and egg salad sandwiches, which aren't complete without a healthy spreading of butter on the bread first. Then he moves on to talk about his school time lunches when prepared by his father. Most of the time it were made of bologna, mustard and butter, ewwww. I tell him about feeling like a jack ass last week when our friend Jenny said she was going home to make macaroni and cheese with tuna in it, and I was dumbfounded by the idea. I say something stupid like I'd never even thought of that. Way to show that college education Lynn. And he says it's southern poor food as he laughs. Oh well it's not like he knows what campechanas or bunuelos are so there. But then he totally grosses me out completely when he says his father likes to eat peanut butter and pickle sandwiches. Ewwwwww! Apparently these things are new to only me, so I must have been under a rock.
P.S. What is lima bean casserole?
*smiles*

Are you F-ing Kidding Me

I would like to preface this post with the fact that I tried very hard to like this person, but enough is enough. As everybody knows my family always has a butt load of drama surrounding them. I try my best to stay out of it, but well, you have to get involved when someone starts throwing your name out there. So Mike's dad calls and asks me about going to dinner on Wednesday. I've spent all week trying to avoid seeing them on that day because my parents are coming to visit, and frankly I am not going to allow her to act stupid in front of them. Furthermore, I will not hold my father back when she shoves her foot in her mouth. So the best thing for all parties involved, especially my son, is to avoid the two of them being in the same vicinity right? Well it just so happens that I am trying to deal with said family drama and don't get a chance to run it by Mike yet. So of course within 20 minutes his dad calls back to ask AGAIN about dinner on Wednesday. So I apologize for not talking to Mike yet as I have this junk going on currently. As I am explaining the story I hear in the background : "I AM NOT AN IDIOT! I KNOW WHEN TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT!!!". Which is funny in itself, because as A. pointed out, if that were true, then why is she talking? I needed the laugh. Anyway, I ask him what she knows when to keep her mouth shut about and why is she an idiot? He says something like oh no we are talking about something else, I gotta go, and promptly hangs up.
Now in the grand scheme of things this is not a big deal. But for three years I have been at the wrong end of her barbs, and I am over it. For example a month ago I had to sit her and listen as she laughed about how her friends and her like to go out to eat at "Beaneries", other wise known as Mexican Restaurants. How my brother's illness is a sign of his immorality. How it's a good thing he can't infect anybody else now. How I am a bad mother. How I am a hypocrite because I drink Pepsi and don't allow my 22 month old to do so. The list goes on and on. My question is how much is too much. She's talked shit about my parents, she's talked shit about me. She's put me down in front of my child, and yet I am still asked to be silent. She is draining the life from me, and killing my relationship. And I cannot make him see it. I am truly sorry that I feel this way about his mother. But I really tried, and I cannot teach my son to let people put him down and keep mum. There is nothing wrong with him, he is perfect in every way. I refuse to let her break him down like she did her poor children, and like she's trying to do to me. How do I make him understand that I feel abandoned. I told him last night in no uncertain terms that I have decided that her being around me or Phoenix is not condusive to his development. I am sorry, do what you will to me, but you won't ruin my child.

The End.

They found what?

Last night for some sick and twisted reason I decided to watch the news. BAD IDEA! Top story of the evening: "Body Found In Castle Rock". Castle Rock is about 20 miles up the road from me. That in itself is a little unnerving. But as always it gets worse. Before the end of the story the reporter says, "We've just got word that another body was found, this one just south of Kalama, the sheriff is saying it's been there for a couple weeks at least". Scary! After the news cast Mike says to me no Lynn, they are talking about a body they found here in May. To which I reply I know what I heard she said there was another body found tonight, that has been decomposing for a couple weeks. I freak out, and the only thing I can do is text poor A. in the middle of the night because it's just a horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach. After a sleepless night I begin my morning. Mike gets up and as always checks the news on the internet. Hmmm surprise surprise, he turns around and tells me that I was right, there were indeed two bodies found last night. So that puts the tally at 3 bodies since May 18. Two of which were found outside of Kalama. To put things in perspective, 2 of them were found under 2 miles from my house.
Now I'm left worrying about serial killers, and the fact that I walk everywhere, by myself. I've already scared my friends with the text last night, and for that guys let me apologize. And I am dreading even more telling my parents, who are already on a die hard mission to move us back to California. At this point Mike is even more pallid than usual, and talking about sending us to CA early. I'm all for it. This is not the first string of weird things that have happened here, and let's just say people like me aren't exactly welcomed here. All of this coupled with the fact that I spent Monday night on the phone with A. freaking out because I kept hearing scratching on the window outside, is a recipe for a melt down I just know it. Makes for a decent blog I guess, but definitely not good for peace of mind. Ahhhhh.
So let's recap. Dead bodies, overactive imagination, remote location, and horror movie weather. So not good.

Blind Sided

After a fulfilling evening of conversation with a good friend last night, I decide to settle down with a puzzle book for a few minutes before I go to sleep. It was a good conversation, one that ended with a chat about the rumors she and I had heard about ourselves and each other over the last ten years. And although some of the things people said were strange/harsh sometimes, by the end we were both laughing and it was way too early to hang up, but we both have babies now and have to rise early. So there I was giggling to myself about how "cool" we really must have been (unbeknown to us), in high school for these people to find time in their day to spread rumors about us ten plus years later. But I digress. As I said I was sitting in my room when my fiancé walks in and wants to talk. I have to say that in the time we have cohabitated we have had exactly one heart to heart, the day I got off the plane.
A little background. Almost five years ago he was the best pressman at his company and they got a new machine. Well the machine was new to them at least. It was actually a 1950's paper press that no one in the company knew how to run, had no safety guards on it, and the company was too cheap to pay somebody to teach them. So what is the best course of action? They put their best guy on it because, "he can figure it out". The machine sucked his dominant hand into it, the only one there to help, turned the lever the wrong way in a panic to get him out, crushing his hand further. They got him out his right hand was degloved on 2 fingers and his thumb was ripped off. As he lay on the floor waiting for the ambulance, his bosses stood over him and asked when they could get this machine up and running again. Thus started what seems like a very long and drawn out, uphill battle. Here we are years and countless surgeries later, and he can hold his now almost 2 year old son for no more than 5 minutes at a time without pain.
Of course we have had trouble getting along cooped up all together all the time, and people don't understand why I don't leave him alone for any extended period of time. And for a while I have been wondering myself. He has been rude, and snappish, and anything else you can do while dealing with the loss of a body part. But he's never acknowledged it. Last night after I hung up, he came in my room and sat and apologized for every single offense in the tenure of our relationship thus far. And followed it with news of what I already knew about his lawyer being less than up to the task. He continued to spill his heart about his fears about what is coming for our family, about school, and money, and being snappy, and how scared he his. And then with a tear in his eye he asked me to open his bottle of water. He finally opened up, even if 3 years of apology is a little hard to swallow at once, he helped me gain a little hope in people last night, and even in myself. Because in a simple 30 minute monologue like apology I was able to forgive without a second thought, and because he let me in. So now I know, I put up with the mean because I knew that someday my prayers would be answered and he would see that maybe, just maybe, I was worth fighting for.

This Place Ain't So Bad Sometimes

Yesterday I was walking to the post office when I happened to look up in the sky and spot an eagle. I know you're probably saying so what? But where I grew up there might have been eagles, but one rarely saw them, and I can almost guarantee not as big as this one. See I live in a strange little story book village on a hill. Main street is at the bottom and the rest of the town just goes up on one side of the hills. Back to the bird. I must have walked for a block without looking where I was going. Just craning my neck up to see this creature. The words that I write, do not paint near as brilliant a a picture. There I was walking in the rain, singing a song, and there he was a bird whose wingspan is easily as wide as I am tall. Just flying around. All I could think to myself was that I wish the people who live in the houses on the hill took the time to look out that window. He was less than ten feet from the bay windows that he dwarfed in full soar. Well, just thought I'd share. Needless to say I spent so much time looking up that I forgot to look where I was walking. Thankfully there weren't too many cars cruising main street yesterday.