We Made It

Well, we're settling in nicely here in Georgia.

Mind you, I have to watch that the dogs don't get carried off by the so-called "palmetto bugs" (really REALLY big roaches, although our realtor says differently; I'll have to check her credentials because I'm pretty sure entomologist is not among them.)

And our living room flooded because apparently they've never heard of flues down here. And our refrigerator is a piece of shit.

And there are uncovered electical outlets. That don't seem to fit in the wall, so it is impossible to fit them with a cover.

And the maintenance company will not return my calls or emails.

And it's so damn hot I break a sweat looking out the window.

On the bright side, a big tree branch fell during the last thunderstorm and dented our car!

Okay, all whining aside, Scott keeps pointing out that this is my opportunity to strike out in a new direction! That I can make a little vacation out of the next couple of weeks, then find a little part-time job that I can have fun at. He's right, of course, but for right now I think I'm going to feel a little sorry for myself. Come Monday, I'm going to pick myself up by my bootstraps and get a plan of action together.

But, just for today....well, a girl can dream of Ohio and the friends she left behind....

My Dog Hates You

Here is an interesting site, for anyone who has ever wondered if animals can, or should, be included in the birthing process:

http://freebirth.com/inspired/fluffy.html

Some very touching stories.

I'd like to point out, however, that you'll notice there were no stories about "my Chihuahua was adorably sweet with the baby and couldn't wait to be a second mother to him", because I'll bet you that has never in the history of Chihuahuas happened.

Probably more like "my Chihuahua threatened my baby with prison rape if it so much as looked at me, and it also claimed all my breastmilk as its own on the premise that everything about me is property first of the Chi."

At least, that's what my dog did.

Okay, it wasn't a baby. It was my husband.

And it wasn't exactly prison rape, so much as a sharp nip on the wrist. We are all still trying to learn to get along here; eventually, one of them will make the other one his bitch, then we'll all be back to normal.

Soon.

I hope....

Pipe Cleaner Animals

I made these tonite whilst watching television. They were featured in one of the Martha Stewart Living Kids magazines, and I think they turned out really great! From left to right: monkey, mouse, bunny with carrot, another monkey, a little red pig, and a chameleon. (I made up the carrot and the pig without a reference, and didn't do too badly, if I say so myself...)

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A Pipe Cleaner Brutus Buckeye

I love the way he turned out. : )

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In Honour of HP VI

I'm
a Gryffindor!

I made Scott take this picture at the park a coupla weeks ago. Bride and Groom and Photographer.....being photographed by my husband. That just makes me laugh, is it just me?

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Repent, For the End is Near

Well, this is my next to last week at my current job. I thought that, when this moment came, I would be dancing on my desk, waving farewell to all the poor colleagues I was going to leave behind. "So long, suckers!" I envisioned myself singing out gaily, drunk on freedom and champagne. (Wadda they gonna do, *fire* me??)

Now that the day is fast approaching, I find myself strangely sad. I guess some of it has to do with the fact that each day brings me closer to leaving my home and my friends, as well as a job I've alternated between loving and hating for six years. In essence, each day brings me just a little closer to leaving everything I know for the complete Unknown. Not to mention being --- for at least a little while --- completely dependent upon my husband for the first time. Ever.

That's a little scary when you're a control freak like me. What if I don't like it? Does not having a job mean that my husband gets to call all the shots? On a purely practical matter, this is just the first step of the journey; what if our second move in February doesn't go so well?

What if? Are there any two more wistful, wishful words in the English language? What if...I'm all alone. What if...I just watch television every day and gain a million pounds and cry all day because my husband doesn't love me any more? What if...all the plans I've had for my life never come to fruition, because I'm better at dreaming than at making those dreams come true?

Obviously, there's a little more to this than just leaving my job. But I'm going to try to stay present during these last few days, try to assess what it is I'm really afraid of, and what I can do to manage my fear. And maybe the end will start to look like a new beginning.

Date My Pet

So, my sister sent me this link: www.datemypet.com

Meet Singles with Pets - Dating for pet lovers. Free to join.

I'm so excited! Now I have somewhere to go if Scott and I ever split up.

Unfortunately, my ad would read:

"Psycho Chihuahua seeks....WHAT??...fuck that....my mommy doesn't need anyone but me!! You come around here, I'LL KILL YOU."

::sigh::

Blech

Sometime I run across things in my travels that makes me feel like there is simply no hope for mankind. And I have to say it really, really depresses me.

For example, I was doing a quite innocuous search of the internet for a Miskatonic University tee shirt. I've been shopping around for one for a coupla years and just haven't found one I like, so I thought I'd give another try tonite. Sadly, TWO of the shirts on offer that turned up in tonite's search were from white supremacist groups.

Gack. I know Lovecraft was xenophobic and an anti-Semite, BUT he was the product of an era that still believed Irish and Italians were dirty foreigners, for cryin' out loud. I just don't understand how people can still believe this shit today, and how they can annex the creation of a great --- but sadly misguided --- writer to support their beliefs.

So, um, the other shirt that caught my eye before I made my hasty exit was one emblazoned with "I LOVE MY PIT BULL". Poor dog.

So In Keeping With Our Bee Theme

When Scott and I got married, I was delighted to realize that I could adopt the bee as our emblem: Belhorn, "B", bee.....get it?

Anyway, we now have bees around the kitchen, a bee print in our bedroom, and I have several cross stitch patterns with bees and hives to stitch. I've named our tiny little house "Beecroft Cottage" and our ficticious country cottage is called "La Ruche". (Because I have an active fantasy life, and because who is there to stop me? Because I am the QuinnBee and I am mad with power!)

Ok, so then Wednesday I had the genius idea that Scott and I should have alter-egos. BEE-related alter-egos! Alter-egos who would take over when Scott and I failed, who could help us to communicate better and to be better friends to each other. And in short order I had created Buzz and Honi.

Buzz and Honi are everything that Scott and I might like to be, but aren't. They are fun, they like to do all sorts of different things, and they're always up for a party. Buzz and Honi also enjoy working out, something that on my best days I find ho-hum. Needless to say, Buzz and Honi have never heard of social anxiety, they balance their checkbook, they never say mean things in the heat of anger, and they probably do not own a television. And, just between you and me, Honi is a bit of a hotsy-totsy. (Read, "sexpot".)

Ok, yeah, I know Buzz and Honi don't really exist, but thinking that they could makes me want to try just a little bit harder.

Then I started thinking, why should Scott and I have all the fun? So I thought of a few more combinations for other couples I know. For my friends who use monkeys as their inside joke: KoKo and Kong. For my friend the actuarial and his wife: Buck and Penny. For my sister and her Scotch-Irish husband: Thistle and Kiltie.

Oh, I could go on for days, but you get the gist of it, I'm sure. Is it a little dorky? Sure, but it's still fun.

And if anyone is up for some fun, it's Buzz and Honi. ; )

Alright, Try This One On For Size

Your Deadly Sins

Sloth: 60%

Gluttony: 40%

Greed: 40%

Envy: 20%

Wrath: 20%

Lust: 0%

Pride: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 26%

You will die while sleeping - and no one will notice.

How Sinful Are You?

At Least I'm a Genius at Some Damn Thing

Your IQ Is 105

Your Logical Intelligence is Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Above Average Your General Knowledge is Above Average

A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

Could I Possibly Love Soul Coughing Any More Than I Already Do?

And that answer to that would be...absolutely no! I am gorging myself on Soul Coughing tonite after faaaar too long apart, and swooning in love with them. Why can't every band be this great???? ::lovestruck::

I'm Keeping My Fingers Crossed

Well, I did it. Something kinda crazy. I'm even a little embarrassed to admit it, but 1) it's a little exciting and B) I don't have anything else to write about today, so what the hell.

I wrote a story.

And I sent it to a magazine for publication.

Squee!

Now, I'm no writer, I can't just sit down and make up a story. But I can describe stuff that I see pretty well, and I'm a good editor. So I got a flash of a scene, and I just started describing it, and darn if it didn't turn out okay! So I showed it to my sister and my husband, just to get a little feedback, and when they didn't think I was too off my rocker I decided to go out on a limb and submit it.

I'm really nervous, I have to admit, but I'm also proud of myself for having the nerve to do it. I'm trying not to get my hopes too far up, but keep your fingers crossed, too, okay?

More Poetry, We Put This in Our Wedding Program

XVII  (I do not love you...)
Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.


Translated by Stephen Tapscott

If I Were...I Would Be...

If I were a dessert, I would be big enough to share.

If I were an alcoholic beverage, I would be champagne.

If I were a type of music, I would be Rasputina or Red Priest.

If I were a color, I would be orange-fuscia swirl.

If I were a fruit, I would be a ripe, juicy peach.

If I were an animal, I would be a Chihuahua.

If I were a story, I would be written by Angela Carter.

If I were a car, I would be a Karmann Ghia.

If I were a poem, I would be The Heavy Bear Who Goes With Me by Delmore Schwartz.

If I were a bird, I would be a Grackle.**

If I were a city, I would be Prague.

If I were an article of clothing, I would be flip flops.

If I were the weather, I would be a summer storm.

If I were a plant, I would be a passion flower.

If I were a planet, I would be Saturn.

If I were a tree, I would be a flowering cherry.

If I were a fabric, I would be cashmere.

If I were a work of art, I would be a Redon.

If I were a book, I would be Precious Bane by Mary Webb.

If I were an emotion, I would be worry.

If I were an insect, I would be the queen bee.

If I were a song, I would be Surrounded by Chantal Kreviazuk.

If I were a fictional character, I would be Prue Sarn.

If I were a season, I would be autumn.

If I were an instrument, I would be an accordion.

If I were lingerie, I would be cabaret stripe thigh high stockings, clinging to my garters.

If I were a movie, I would be Harold & Maude.

If I were a musical, I would be Gigi.

If I were a criminal act, I would be the long con.

**THE GRACKLE

   Ogden Nash
p.1942
====================

The grackle's voice is less than mellow,
His heart is black, his eye is yellow,
He bullies more attractive birds
With hoodlum deeds and vulgar words,
And should a human interfere,
Attacks that human in the rear.
I cannot help but deem the grackle
An ornithological debacle.

My Heaven on Earth

I LOVE our garden.

It was actually one of the two reasons we bought our house, but if you could see what it looked like then, you'd be scratching you head. Scott and I just kept coming back to the horrible over-grown garden and the crazy tiki bar and saying, "Are we crazy? Do we like this? Is this nuts?? Who else would buy this place???" (Turns out, NO ONE. The house had been on the market for something like 450 days.)

BUT, it was in our price range, in a pocket-neighbourhood that honestly could trick you into believing you live in the country even though it's in the middle of a good sized city, and it's on a dead-end street. Even better, we were hard-pressed to find even one house in the entire neighbourhood that didn't have at least one dog. Definitely Heaven!

So we bought the place, white carpet, over-grown garden, outdated wiring, and all. Oh, if I could only explain all the crazy stuff that was in this house, you'd never stop laughing. (One example: the bizarre home made street light, converted from an old fire-hydrant. Scott not only threw his back out trying to shift the hydrant, he got electrocuted --- this is how we discovered where the line ran through the yard, ha ha.)

But slowly we started discovering the charms of this little brick box: There were hard wood floors under the carpeting! The back garden had a lot of charm once it was beaten back a little! There was a second pond under the corner bush! (We ended up taking that one out, but it was a nice surprise. Actually still had some fish in it, even; what they'd been living on, I have no idea.) The neighbours, while a little...intrusive...were actually very sweet, once we established our own territory. Scott spent a summer building the stone patio and got wonderfully brown and skinny.

All in all, it's worked out really well. I spent Friday afternoon hanging out under our cherry tree in the back garden, reading a magazine and watching the dogs goof around. This picture really doesn't do it justice; it was taken last month, and everything has grown so much since then. The hostas are already demanding to be divided, which might actually work in our favour, as the front garden is an absolute mess that a few hostas could certainly improve.

I realized that I spent our first two summers in this house focusing on all the work to be done, all the improvements yet to be made. This summer, because we'll be gone for a year, I find myself looking at the budding trees, the expanding hostas, our host of bumblebees, really noticing in a way that I haven't before. Familiarity breeds contempt, they say, and I can see now how true that is.

So this spring, and the summer to come, is bittersweet. I'm sad I won't be here next spring to take note of which tulips are emerging and which buds are flowering and if the bleeding heart made it through another winter. But I'm thankful it's made me pay attention today.


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An Exciting Day for Che

Small Dog had a very exciting day yesterday, he fell into the fish pond.

One minute he's watching the fish eat, the next thing I know is I hear a big "KER-PLUNK" and he's splashing around for dear life. (Honestly, it was exactly the sound you hear when you drop a big rock into a lake. Everytime I think about it, I just have to chuckle.)

Anyway, this is why the dogs are never allowed in the back yard on their own; they are very small, and our pond is very deep. This could be serious trouble. Fortunately, I was there to pull his sorry, damp self out of the pond, good as new.

The fish, however, are COMPLETELY traumatized. You can imagine how THEY feel: one minute it's supper, the next minute there's a dog on their heads. It's no wonder they won't come out from the lily pads now. It's kind of a shame, though, I really love watching them all swimming and schooling. It's one of the highlights of my day.

Watching Che eat is a little less poetic, but I guess it will have to do. At least until the fish have recovered.

This Week's Dream

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Scott and I stayed at the Pink Motel this weekend, as we passed through the Smokey Mountains on our way home from Georgia. This motel is so cute, absolutely everything is pink --- exterior, carpeting, bedspreads, bathroom tile. It was FABULOUS! Built in the '50's, it's owned by the daughter of the original owner. My dream this week is to buy the Pink Motel when the current owner decides to retire, then I would make it a haven of kitschy good times. I would live in the Pink Motel for the rest of my life! Hurrah! Anyway, while I'm dreaming you can start planning your vacation to Cherokee, NC. The Smokies are beautiful, there are wedding chapels galore (why, I'm not sure; this region is apparently the Vegas of the Southeast), and you can honeymoon in the Pink Motel!

Incredible, But True!

You Are a Chihuahua Puppy

Small, high strung, and loyal. You do best in the city with a adults - young kids could crush you!

What Breed of Puppy Are You?