viv

Some people use clocks, others the sun, some get really crazy and ask someone else, but not me... 9:30 pm, rain or shine, Disneyland fireworks are lighting up the sky over my house and so at least once a day, I always know what time it is. Anyway. I've been listening to The Cab a lot recently. I can't really bring myself to listen to Panic at the Disco just yet. I know, I clearly have issues. Again, anyway. So the singer from The Cab is also the songwriter, and that translates to writin AHHHH! Blogus interuptus! A BEE just buzzed me... in my own f**king house! f**k him! Do I go to his hive and buzz his wife and make her scream and flail and flee? Do I!? No, I didn't think so! Anyway. As I was saying, songwriting, translates to writing, which means, by default, he's a thinker, a dreamer, an imaginer. He wrote a whole blog the other day about taking the time to remember what it's like to dream and imagine, to remember what it feels like to not let the responsibilities of every day life bog you down or make you say 'I can't'. I think that I'm very guilty of this. I've grown accustomed to using my kids, mostly, and other people as my excuse. I can't go to school because I'll miss their childhood stuck in some classroom and studying. I can't go exercise because I'll have to drag them along with me or leave them home alone for an hour. I can't get my books published because they aren't mainstream stories and places like Borders won't sell them. Life is too short for I can't. I think we all need to try and remember how to say I want, I wish, I hope. Remember when you sang into your hairbrush because you knew someday you'd trade it for a real microphone or when you bandaged up a baby bird's wing, knowing that he would fly again because of you. Why not give someone a hand up instead of holding yourself down? Anyway. You get the idea. Thanks, Alex, for reminding me. I hope someday you'll get to be batman. Hugs, Viv

I think that I'm ready for this week to be over. That okay with everyone? A run down, if you will... Panic At the Disco lost two members this week. Ryan (guitar) and Jon (bass) and they are off to try and pursue their own creative goals or something like that. Good for them, I guess, but it's really sad to me for a lot of reasons. Anyway, Brendon and Spencer, the remaining members appear to be working their asses off while dealing with all this before going on tour in a couple weeks with Blink 182 and I'm really glad that they are doing so much to make us feel like everything is going to be alright. So, Rich and I decided that for our birthdays/Mother and Father's Day/our anniversary, we were going to get each other the new iPhones. Except everywhere in California south of San Francisco was sold out... except Santa Monica. So I went... alone. HOLY CRAP! I had to take 6... SIX freeways, and I'm doing great until I am supposed to turn left on Arizona and there is a police blockade and now I'm in an alley and oh God, but then there is a guy with a map at the end so after evaluating his craziness factor I roll down the window and ask him where I can park and he tells me how to get to the parking structure. I drive six levels up and manage to find someone leaving and steal her spot. Take the elevator down six levels, walk through an alley, jay walk across a street, walk down another alley, past the police blockade, through the Farmer's Market, and find myself in the midst of the papparazzi attacking poor Alyson Hannigan from American Pie who is out with her baby and UGH! I find the 'you are here' map and find the Apple store and walk there. Then I have to go in, find someone to help me and get two phones and pay for two phones... MAN! I told Rich to text me the directions to get home, cause they aren't always just the reverse of how you came when you're in LA, but when they turned our new phones on, it makes the old ones inactive and then I have to wait while ATT catches up with Apple so now I have no phone and no directions, but that only matters if I can actually find my car again. I get the phones, and leave the Apple store, back to the 'you are here' map, past the Farmer's Market and the police blockade, down the alley, jaywalk across the street, down another alley to the parking structure, get in the elevator, go up six levels, find my car, holy f**king shit, thank God, and then I have to find my own way home cause I have no directions and no phone... I did... six freeways later. Anyway, that was my iPhone adventure. I have a ton of things to do before I go to work today, so I better run... Hugs, Viv

Wow, this is such a cool topic! Thanks Emulated Imagine the possibilities! ::brain cannot handle the amount of potential options:: I think if I had to play one of my own characters (female) I'd play Caty from Underneath This Big 'Ol Sky... hell, she is a part of me. Assuming appearance doesn't matter, and maybe gender... I would like to play either Jesse from From Behind Those Eyes or Lucas from Days of Silence I think. As for other people's stories... OH MAN! SO many. Jude - The Ordinary Us Luke - Desert Dropping Jacob - Living In Surreality Jake - In Due Time Cale - Paying the Piper I could go on here forever...

... so sleep with her Might as well get the perks out of it. (totally kidding) I have mixed feelings about this. I am a VERY touchy, cuddly, openly emotional girl with EVERYONE. That said, if you're getting the vibe that she is doing it for some other reason than that it's just how she is by nature, then you have to put a stop to it. A little distance, some lines in the sand, that sort of thing before it becomes worse... as these things tend to get worse at exponential rates. Good luck!

So, Tony's friend came to me and said that someone put it into perspective for him by saying, "I'm not sure if it's right or wrong, I just know that it's not MY right to decide that."

Answers here I come... So for the past few weeks I've been feeling different/not great after I eat and since diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, etc. all runs in my family, I decided I better go to the doctore for the first time in... since Matty was born. I told her my symptoms, I said family history, and she sent me directly to the lab for a whole bunch of tests and said to make an appointment for the following week to have a physical and discuss the results. That was today. Apprently I'm fine, everything is in normal range, except my triglycerides are slightly high, but losing some weight and exercising should help me avoid my genetic predisposition. I asked her why, if nothing is wrong with me, do I get this headache, lightheaded, not feeling so great feeling after I eat anything sugary or sweet? She said, "There is no medical explanation for that." I'm not sure if that translates to 'It's all in your head' or 'Trust your instincts/cravings/what your body is telling you'. Anyway, it is some of a relief to know that I'm not ridiculously unhealthy or anything like that. That said, anyone know an easy way to lose like... a whole person? I'm pretty sure I have a spare 100 pounds here if anyone needs it. UGH! (No I'm not exaggerating) I think I'll think skinny, healthy thoughts. HOLY ARRRGH!!!! My speakers on my laptop are cutting in and out and it's SO pissing me off! But taking it in to have it fixed is like... SO f**kING PAINFUL!!!! I was up till 3:30 am last night/this morning having a discussion/debate with Tony's friend who is visiting from out of state. It started with Prop 8 and should same-sex couples have the right to be married? From there we went on to should same-sex couples have the right to 'raise' kids. In his defense, he's a good guy who was raised in a good family who I love. He is somewhat religious and when I asked him if he actually knows anyone who is gay, he said no, so I think him not being at all exposed to the situation and the realities same-sex couples and gay people face daily is sort of a hinderance. He said, initially, that 'marriage' as far as he knew, was a religious term, and so if you follow religion, then no, same-sex couples shouldn't get married, but they do deserve all the rights and perks. So we went the separation of church and state route, followed by the we're not religious, so does that mean we shouldn't be married either route. Once religion is off the table as an excuse, there's not much to hide behind really. So then he said he thinks, in general, that people who can't 'have kids' shouldn't be able to 'raise' them. So we went the infertal couples/single person who wants to be a parent route. He said he thinks "that if a child is raised by same-sex parents then they will grow up to think it is okay to be gay..." Tony and I said, "It is!" and he agreed. Then I pointed out that straight couples don't always raise straight children and then we got into instinct and attraction on a fundamental level. Are you born gay or do you become gay due to exposure? Anyway, in the end, I think he learned a lot and likely has a new outlook on a lot of those topics. Amazing what a little gay exposure can do for a person, eh? Hugs, Viv

I like 'babe' personally, and use it often, actually. To me, 'baby' is a term for a child under 2 years of age or something that comes from someone with a little too much... flare maybe? I dunno, maybe it's just the way I've heard it used before that leaves me with an unearned reputation... Example, "No argument here, baby..." Sorta like when I called you honey yesterday

As far as I've heard, it'll be 6-8 weeks once he gets to a care center outside the hospital... how long from now until that happens, I don't know.

For a guy in a hospital with half of his body broken, he doesn't look half bad. Also, I've had the pleasure of seeing him in a much more handsome state so I'm glad to see him smiling.

Glad to hear you're doing so well! If not bored... Lots of hugs! Viv

Another update:

So it sounds like I can't call ... yet.

I'm not so sure about the 'have to be a dick' thing... maybe just 'have to be honest' might do the trick. Either way, good luck. It's no fun having to let someone down like that.

You guys are AWESOME! I'm gonna try and call him tomorrow and if I can talk to him, I'll definitely send all the good thoughts and snazzy GA love and healing vibes I can through the phone. I'll keep you posted. Hugs, Viv

Hey everybody... I received an email last night from Steve's sister. I'm going to keep in touch with her and send him some get-well wishes. Why is Canada so far away? Just thought you all might want to know since you're probably wondering where he's been lately. Viv

Thanks guys! I had to work all night... so I'm having a do-over today! Nothing like turning 32 twice...

Twice something like this has happened, and I'm really starting to wonder when recycling started to require this much organization by the masses. The first time I went with Rich and the kids, and we probably had about seven trash bags full of cans and bottles and there was some crazy line of people waiting to use the self-service machines. Additionally, there is a guy working there who will weigh large amounts of stuff that you separate into big trash cans. Well the first time, we used the machine because that's what was available when it became our turn, but that wasn't without some instruction and aid from fellow recyclers who seem to have felt the need to add their input. This time, Annemarie and I went with thirteen trash bags and this is what went down... I park the car and get out and get seven of the thirteen bags and walk over to the back of the short line of people waiting, followed by Annemarie with three more bags. Annemarie heads back to the car to get the last three bags, and this man... jeans, t-shirt, open flannel shirt over that with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, beer gut, trucker baseball cap... this man who's been sizing me up since I walked over asks me how I'm doing today? I reply that I'm fine, thanks, and normally, I would ask about him in return, but intuition tells me not to provoke conversation with this man. He takes a dramatic two steps backward from where he's watching me and then walks over and says, "Are you gonna be using the machine, or are you gonna weigh?" "I think I'm going to weigh," I say, arched eyebrow and all. "Okay, then you'll be behind her," he regulates as he points to the other woman already separating her items into the big trash cans to be weighed. Okay, I think... thanks for that clarification. Annemarie gets back with the other three bags. So I start to move all of our bags over closer to where we will ultimately be separating them into bins, and this guy comes over to help us and Annemarie is looking at me like what the hell is this creepy dude's deal?! I say, "Thanks, that was nice of you." We're now on the other side of a small planter waiting our turn and when the woman in front of us finishes, Annemarie and I both grab a bag and step over and begin to separate cans and bottles and then this man comes over and moves all the rest of the bags over to the other side of this planter. Then, as we get the bins filled and need to move them over so the guy can weigh them, he shoves over empty bins. I don't know... he was helpful-ish and I said thank you, but really? Like we couldn't have figured out our place in line all on our own? Whatever, $29.94 and a cut on my finger later, I was drinking Strawberry Surfrider and watching a grown man randomly skipping across the crosswalk and down Orangethorpe Ave. Also, I'm semi-irate that The Principal's Award that Matty got has a major grammar faux-pas on it. Is that wrong? I'm sure the principal, who is a PhD. has a secretary type these things up... but still, it pisses me off when it says ... is being presented the Principal's Award for taking on the 'witches' role in one day and giving an amazing performance. Really? Sigh... Also, am I really editing the awards my kids bring home from school? I did it with Annemarie's yearbook, too. All attempts made to rescue me from my 2-11 pm shift at work will be appreciated and rewarded. Hugs, Viv

I became the mother of a freshman in high school. HOLY f**kING SHIT. Also, she invited a boy over today. Seriously. I'm plotting against her in a cute way, and I'm actually really excited. Have to wait till Sunday for the payoff though, and I'm not so good at the waiting thing. Once upon a time... I told this guy at work, Daniel, that I write gay romance and that I think he's adorable and I'd love to write him someday. He told me he writes poetry. I gave him the link to my site. He asked if I want to write him cause I think he's gay. Really...? And also, I can't tell you the amount of sad boys there must be out there because you're not. But seriously, it's ridiculous the amount of adorable this kid has. Once upon a time... Somebody didn't pick up their baby shower cake and we ate it at work. Congratulations! It's a boy! Once upon a time... A random kid who was a box boy a lifetime ago in my store came in and recognized me immediately and came over to hug me while I had no idea who he was, until he told me. Once upon a time... My kid won The Principal's Award for taking over the part of The Witch and being amazing. Not amazing enough to remember to tell us that was going to happen so we could be there and clap for him. Once upon a time... I took my blood pressure on one of those little machines outside the pharmacy and it wasn't so great. Maybe it was because I was at work. Maybe not. Once upon a time... Crazy, drunk chick at work freaked out because she saw two guys outside kissing. I asked her if she wanted to trade checkstands. Inappropriate guy walked around trying to rally people to support his position that her freaking out is discrimination. It's not. It's not cool, not nice, not necessary, but also not discrimination. PS. Crazy, drunk chick... you suck at life. Not surprising. Once upon a time... I smuggled celebratory type things into the house two nights in a row. Once upon a time... I went to bed. Good night.