MFA Mama

not dead (not quite, but hey STAY TUNED)

   I try not to disappear when something unpleasant is afoot, because I know y'all worry, but sometimes you should totally worry, because my new job is trying to kill me. My theory is actually that whatever badness has recently ruined my lower left quadrant is THE BEGINNING OF THE END in the form of my body rejecting the positivity and rampant civility. To wit:

*   I did something easy and straightforward a few days ago, something that is absolutely part of my job and kind of why I get paid to do it, and came in the next morning to a hand-drawn thank-you card taped to my cubicle.

*   The artist behind said card has been extra-super-nice in training me, as has one key other person, and yesterday? Geez, y'all, it's like I don't even know who I am anymore. I can barely even say it: yesterday I took them both jars of homemade preserves and made hand-drawn labels featuring both rhyming AND an office-related pun. I texted a photo of the adorable little jars to Token Guy Friend, with the caption "I don't see a bright light, so I guess hell is The South, cicadas, and a series of wardrobe malfunctions? Can't say I'm surprised."

*   I finally bit the bullet and hit Goodwill, after a particularly shameful incident involving grabbing the wrong pants, thinking I was bloated and wearing 12s, and finding out that in instead I had lost enough weight to close a pair of 8s and was the public face of cameltoe all day Tuesday. I should probably make the whole office an "I'm sorry" card about that...what rhymes with vulva? Anyway, so yeah I voluntarily went clothes-shopping yesterday and am somehow now the owner of someone's rich mom's wardrobe. Because I was mostly looking for a) businesswear, b) forgiving waistbands/shirts that can hide an early pregnancy or impending internal rupture, and c) nothing that would violate a) or show The Jew Tattoo (there is not an official tattoo policy at my new workplace, and in fact the lady in charge has a very girly, artsy tattoo that is visible most days, but as a temp who is hoping to end up sticking around I have decided to keep my not-so-girly, often-mistaken-for-offensive upper-arm ink under wraps, especially given that the average age in the office is AARP material). So yeah, HELLO LADY REPUBLICAN! The great thing about Goodwill is that when you live in an affluent area, you can spend less than seventy bucks and end up with five pairs of pants and seven shirts that are all Ann Taylor Loft, Polo by Ralph Lauren, Land's End, and the like. Plus a few pairs of shorts and a belt for various children and two Very Pretty Tops that totally show the Jew Tattoo in case you ever actually go anywhere other than work. So yeah...I am stylishly dressed in clothes that fit: third horse of the Apocalypse, pooping on the lawn.

*   Yesterday there was a celebratory free lunch at the office, and my incredibly nice co-workers went out of their way to make sure there were GF options for me. They were super-proud of themselves, and the food smelled delicious, so I strayed from the liquid diet I've been keeping to and OH MY GOD, YEP, DYING. I crashed last night before eleven and now I have to go get dressed for work. ONWARD!

*   How are all of YOU?

Tattoo and Culture Show

yays and boos

*   Hotter and I made up! YAAAAY! He said I made him want to shove a rock up his own butt but he loves me anyway. If you weren't there for the buttrock Twitter conversation, you should probably count yourself lucky, but that line won't make any sense to you. That's okay. It made me laugh instead of cry and there's nobody else I'd rather be discussing butt-rocks with for the rest of my life.

*   My guts are still in an uproar, although nothing like they were on Friday. The same spot in the lower left quadrant is ouchy though, and it's pretty unpleasant. I have been following medical advice and also putting fresh aloe vera gel in my smoothies. I think if I stopped eating solid food altogether I'd feel a lot better. The problem is, I love solid food.

*   Little Child and I made rose-petal jam today. I don't know if it's gelling up okay, but it tastes like beauty. Tomorrow I may buy some heavy whipping cream so we can make rose-petal ice cream with the leftovers. Mmm...

*   My paycheck from Temp Agency #2 is taking the scenic route through cyberspace.

*   My current job is just EVER so nice.

   How are all of YOU? What are your yays and boos?

GOOD NEWS!

*   I have a job!

*   The job is through Temp Agency #1, non-physically demanding, full-time, pays pretty well, and starts Monday. No idea on duration yet, but at the very least this should help us get our feet back under us and let me secure individual health insurance once more. Yay!

*   I have to cultivate a "professional appearance" over the weekend on a shoestring budget, which will involve doing my roots, spending some time at Goodwill shopping for business-y clothes that fit, and probably lots of wailing and gnashing of teeth.

*   Happy Friday! 

*   How are all of YOU? 

good things from today

*   I found a coupon for a free oil change and tire rotation, both of which the MFA Beater was sorely overdue for, and took it to a local garage and had that done. Didn't cost me a cent! I thought I'd have them at least diagnose the Beater's current issues, but the place had a $99 diagnostic fee to even look at it. I, however, had a low-cut top on and managed to get out of the guy at the register that there's a fairly easy and straightforward way to test whether one's plug-wires are bad (that is what we suspect the issue may be) without paying $99 to find out. DON'T YOU JUDGE ME, THESE ARE DESPERATE TIMES!

*   Tomorrow I've got a temp gig through Temp Agency #1 for four and a half hours that seems fairly straightforward. It's only tomorrow and next Saturday, but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

*   I weighed myself and have lost five pounds. While I do not recommend the stress and poverty diet, you can't argue with results, and I am still thirteen pounds above my goal weight so am hardly wasting away.

*   The garden is really starting to take off! I'm anticipating a bumper crop of strawberries this year, and the spinach looks really good, and the squash seeds I saved from an organic butternut have sprouted.

*   I saved the best for last! Thanks to the kindness of a well-connected reader we'll refer to as The Pristiq Fairy, I don't have to worry about missing any doses of the magic pill that keeps me from becoming a total basketcase any time soon. That is a HUGE weight off my mind! I mean, I'm still pretty damn situationally depressed at the moment, but it could be SO MUCH WORSE and I am so very thankful that my husband and children don't have to watch me fall apart the way I do if I miss even one dose of Pristiq (which is the most I've ever missed since starting the stuff six years ago--I'd hate to think what I'd be like after, say, a week).

food

*   The dandelion syrup I referred to in my last post is the stuff I made here. Or more probably a later batch than that, but aaaaanyway.

*   As far as the pancakes, I am currently using mix, but will likely try making my own (gluten-free) at some point. Currently if I'm making pancakes I just make regular glutenous ones for everybody else and eat something random myself.

*   How random? Y'all ask for recipes and I laugh. Today's breakfast: a quarter cup of GF rolled oats, about a tablespoon each of honey, cocoa powder, toasted sesame seeds, and tahini, pink Himalayan salt (I'm in love! Bought a grinderfull last time I was at Trader Joe's and feeling fancy), and a fork. It was delicious.

*   Last night's salad, I should have photographed. It was SO GOOD. Cubed raw beet over chopped dandelions, topped with thin-sliced onion-top (GOD DAMN MOLES), crumbled feta, and quick vinaigrette (olive/grapeseed oil blend, white wine vinegar, lemon pepper, and pink Himalayan salt).

*   Yesterday's lunch was pretty amazing, too--black beans, Wholly Guacamole I had frozen and forgotten about, bibb lettuce from the yard, sour cream, salsa, Adobo, and a spritz of lime juice.

*   Yes, because I know some of you are wondering, the children still eat "normal" stuff (as does Hotter). They have cereals and bread and pasta and all sorts of el-cheapo couponed pre-packaged foods. I just get inventive for myself, because gluten.

*   Speaking of which, I glutenated myself at work licking my finger after pouring salad dressing that turned out to be not bleu cheese (housemade, gluten-free) but Ranch (from mix, containing MSG). Am an idiot, but my customer got their dressing of choice with their damn wings.

well, hey, alright

*   After three and a half hours' restless sleep, I greeted a puking tween, a rampant hound, a cranky husband and an empty fridge with steely resolve, poured the contents of the French press into the contents of the strawberry kefir bottle, and shook it, like a boss, all "bring it, Tuesday." on the facespace.

*   I gathered up the coupons and hit Kroger. A family-size bag of organic chicken nuggets, two steamable veggie bags, half a gallon of organic milk, eight yogurts, two Larabars, and a dozen and a half Bumpus-eggs ended up costing me $15. Whoo, savings! As an added bonus, I taught Little Child how to pick from the garden to feed Clementine greens for free.

*   Then I went and put all of the rabbits (that can be safely handled, IDEN) out to graze in their various pens and shelters. And did some work in the garden. And chased a stray rabbit all over creation (I hate Haas almost as much as Iden today).

*   My generous customer came back! He was as he usually is, and other than that work was pretty slow, but it all evened out.

*   All in all today was good, despite a rough start. Maybe tonight I'll get some actual sleep and tomorrow I'll conquer the world! How are all of YOU?

beastly bullets

*   The day after we brought Clementine home, Hotter and I made a PetSmart run to get Little Child a book on the care and feeding of Bearded Dragons. While there, we also picked up a bag of crickets, some vitamins and supplements to keep Clementine healthy, and a new "basking tree" because Hotter's inner interior decorator was insistent that the homemade platform her previous owner had constructed HAD to go. We brought everything home, put the "tree" in Clementine's tank, and watched her crouch at the base of it, looking waaaaaay up. "D'ya think she'll be able to climb that thing?" I asked dubiously. Clementine studied the tree, the way a cat will study the top of a refrigerator, then leapt easily onto the topmost branch. LIZARDS CAN JUMP??? Holy shit.

*   The hens are laying again, all four of them! Hooray!

*   Iden the carnivorous killer-rabbit continues to be vicious and misanthropic. She also, however, gave birth to a litter of six the night before I'd planned to butcher her, so she gets a pass for at least six weeks. DAMMIT. After that she goes, though. She's just terribly vicious and untameable (I tried to befriend her once again, with romaine leaves and apple slices, but the moment I went to pet her the way the other rabbits like to be petted, she went for me).

*   Bumpus is doing much better in general than he has in ages, but he still goes into frenzied paroxysms of noise when the middle school bus is due to deliver his lord and master home. Clementine disapproves of this, and does pushups of reptilian fury. Hotter and I decided that this indicates she is a higher form of life than Bumpus, but then so, in our estimation, are certain species of blue-green algae.

*   Hotter divides the animal kingdom into two main groups "Things that like to be pet [sic]" and things that do NOT "like to be pet [I have given up correcting his English; it's become a running joke in our house to say this phrase incorrectly]. The day we got Isis, Hotter looked up at me in ecstasy and exclaimed "she likes to be PET!" (the cockatiel SOMETIMES likes to be pet, but not enough to fill the animal-hole in Hotter's heart). Hotter has decided that Clementine likes to be pet. I'm not sure if Clementine agrees, but she at least tolerates it. Iden? DOES NOT MOTHERFUCKING LIKE TO BE PET. The jury is still out on the disabled vulture at the local zoo who stole my heart a couple of years ago. I have a fantasy menagerie, you see, of various creatures I have fallen in love with and requested that Hotter find and bring to me at various times. It includes a domesticated fox, the vulture, eyebrow cat, and various others. I really do think that vulture would like to be pet.

*   And how are all of YOU? My enter key is broken, but otherwise I'm okay. Please excuse any horrible spacing. The spacebar is a sad substitute, but I simply cannot bring myself to deal with all of India over the phone on such a beautiful day. Oh, Dell :(

bullets of indignation

*   What the HELL, Google? What happened to "don't be evil?" TAKING GOOGLE READER AWAY IS PRETTY FUCKING EVIL.

*   I hate it when the XY has to pay child support on a Friday. Because he hands the check over AFTER banks are closed, and then I either have to get up super-early on a Saturday to cash and then deposit the check, or not write any checks Thursday or Friday and be okay with waiting until Tuesday or so to buy groceries (not this week). Yes, he could make my life easier by paying in cash or certified funds, but why WOULD he?

*   I have been eating...a lot. No DietBet ongoing plus feelings plus living with a chef plus working with a chef equals FATTY FATTY NECK-ROLL! That all stops now though, because I rolled my DietBet winnings into a new game. You can join us, if you like.

*   Work, drama, rinse, repeat, blahhhh.

*   What is it with boys and...unwholesome...choices in pets? Little Child has been pining for a pet that he can interact with (since Iden the killer-bunny is a carnivorous bitch). His first choice was a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach. NOOOOOOOOOOO DEAR GOD NO NOT JUST NO BUT FUCK YOU AND NEVER GAHHHHH!!! Hotter foolishly pointed out that they are cheap to feed and harmless, and I suggested that he move back in with his mother and take Little Child and any hypothetical hissing cockroach (seriously, who hears "hissing cockroach" and WANTS ONE?) with him, because OBVIOUSLY. JESUS. Unbeknownst to Little Child, Hotter and I will be spending Sunday morning picking up his SECOND choice of vile familiar. I am...not enthused about this creature. Apparently it will fill a terrifyingly-shaped hole in Little Child's boyish heart, however, and it doesn't have six legs, so I will be thankful for small mercies and clear a spot for its' cage in the den. Photos to come!

*   It's beautiful outside, but too wet to garden, still. I think all of the seeds I previously planted drowned in the ground, which may be just as well as I forgot my self-imposed ban on drunk-planting and may not have planned or spaced things correctly, but STILL.

*   I have definitely caught Middle Child's Sickness of Filth, and it is definitely a virus. Because he still sounds every bit as revolting after two days on a strong antibiotic as he ever did, and the symptoms are identical, and the drops haven't helped my eyes a bit either. Booooo, virus. Boo. And I have to work until midnight. FANCY!

*   How are all of YOU?

things I hate

*   The hens at Squatter Workshop have gotten really spoiled. Lately, I've been waiting tables at one of my jobs quite a bit and have been able to hang a plastic bag from the tray-jack holding the dirty-dish tray in the server station and scrape plates into that for the hens. They have therefore become accustomed to my coming home with plastic bags filled with fish-skins, and the fourth quarters of club sandwiches, and the fat off of steaks, and leftover pasta with cream sauce, and any number of other things that chickens find delicious. Last night, however, I was NOT waiting tables at work, and the hens raised such a furious ruckus when I got home and gave them a scoop of chicken feed that I finally went back to the house and put some kitchen leftovers into a plastic shopping bag from Kroger to fake them out, then took that down there to shut them up. IT WORKED. I hate chickens :)

*   I also hate rabbits, mostly because they don't grasp simple concepts like cause and effect. As in, "if I rattle the water bottle with my teeth instead of drinking from it and chew the cord holding it up, it will fall off the side of the cage and I will get VERY THIRSTY." That one goes right over Iden's head. Unless maybe she's approaching it from the angle of "if I rattle the water bottle with my teeth instead of drinking from it and chew the cord holding it up, bitch will stick her hand within biting range and I can get me some sweet, sweet mamaflesh, YUM!" and is an evil genius. Either way? HATE.

*   The clinic over at the elementary school sent Middle Child home for suspected pinkeye the day before yesterday, despite my assertion that what he had going on was viral in nature. I took him from school to Urgent Care where they said they really thought it would look worse if it was true bacterial pinkeye, but would give Middly some antibiotic ointment to placate the school just in case (and yes, I got some drops for myself). Middly subsequently developed a revolting cough-snuffle-hack thing, and despite his normal temperature and assertions that he felt "FINE!" I took him to the pediatrician today, because my ex has dinner-visitation tonight and I do NOT want to hear about how I am neglecting a sickness. His temperature was normal and they said they didn't think he'd really ever had pinkeye at all but rather a virus. They did, however, agree with me that he SOUNDS revolting and is probably well on his way to a secondary bacterial infection, and put him on Augmentin, which means no more eye ointment needed even if he DID ever have pinkeye. So that's good I guess. Meanwhile the school clinic hadn't returned my call from the day before yesterday asking when Middly could come back to school, so I called them back. "I think I owe you an apology," said the clinician, "we've had a lot of children APPEAR to have pinkeye but turn out to have a virus lately, and you can bring him back any time." I hate the school clinic.

*   Who or what do YOU hate today?

blah blah neurologist

*   I started today off by getting screamed at over the phone by my ex-husband. It was like being magically transported back to 2003. Then my CURRENT husband gave me grief for even talking to the ex about morning child-care relating to the neurology appointment, and I was all "phew, it's 2013 after all!"

*   The neurologist was pleased with how Hotter looked, but less so with the fact that he had a seizure. After examining Hotter and asking a few questions he pretty much agreed with me that all-night gaming is unwise for people who are prone to seizures, and ditto drinking nothing but coffee. "Stop giving her ammunition!" Hotter grumbled. "She's right, though," said the neurologist. I love Hotter's neurologist.

*   On the way home I was treated to both "you're not my mother!" AND grief over in-laws. Apparently if I don't give a shit about the in-laws I'm a heartless and damaged person who doesn't understand family, and if I DO give a shit about in-laws it's "creepy." If I point out any kind of hypocrisy inherent in a potentially marriage-ending fight over in-laws originating from a person who doesn't even care to CALL his elderly mother and says he's sure someone ELSE would call HIM if she was DEAD, then we weren't really fighting over in-laws, we were fighting over how I am JUST LIKE MY EX-HUSBAND.

*   I...should just shut up now, probably. Hotter's okay. I'm going to take a nap and see if that'll hit "reset" on this day, because so far I'm not impressed.

*   How are all of YOU?