my dog is not my car

Current mood:peaceful

My car has 93,000 miles on it. It's six years old. It's starting to
fall apart. The a/c is broken. The windshield and left tail light is
cracked. It's not turning over right away. It needs a tune-up, a timing belt, an
oil change, an air filter, new tires, and probably ten other things. It
stinks of cigarettes and baby spew and sounds like the Spanish Armada
when I am negotiating a turn. I'm going to have to sink a thousand
dollars into it, at least, when it's worth maybe 2500 at best. At best.

But the fact of the matter is that the best move I can make is to fix
the car. I have 3 payments left, and if I make these repairs it will
probably make it another year or so. I have a baby, a house, and a job,
so I have to have wheels. I would love to live in a bikeable / walkable
city, but that's another story altogether. Over the next two years I
can keep putting "car payment" money away and try to get a better deal on
the next car. Or maybe the next time an emergency comes up, I'll have
a few bucks stashed away in the car account that I can nip. It will be
nice. It's a sound plan.

Astrid has cancer. Astrid is my nine-year old Doberman. Astrid is
beautiful and elegant. Astrid is strong. Astrid has scared away
criminals, Christians, and children alike with equal skill and
ferocity. Astrid will be dead by the end of the year, maybe the end of the month.

Astrid has been my best friend for nine years. She has been by my side
during hard times and radical changes. She was my baby for many years
when I believed there would never be a human baby in my life. My son
was born on her eighth birthday. She has never commented once on my weight
or cigarette habit, and she is happy to cuddle up with me no matter how
badly I need a shower or a shave.

Astrid has cancer and there's nothing I can do about it. I could
possibly do something about it if I had money. I can't even afford very
complete diagnostics, so it's hard to say if anything can be done to
extend her life while maintaining its quality. I wouldn't put her
through anything crazy like chemo or radiation, but there are lots of
options available in veterinary medicine to fight cancer, even more
than in human medicine. But I don't know if there is anything I can do
because I can't even afford the blood tests and x-rays to provide the
answers, much less treatment.

These diagnostics would cost about four hundred dollars. Surgery to
remove a couple of suspect lumps would be about six hundred.

A thousand dollars.

My car and my dog both require a thousand dollars to potentially extend
their lives a few months. The risk of total loss on the investment
toward either is 100 percent at any time.

How do I live in a world where putting a thousand dollars into pile of
pollution-spouting metal is a good idea but spending more than a few
dollars on my best friend and one of God's most precious creatures is a stupid one? What kind of life is this in which my car is a necessity but a giant
chunk of my heart is a luxury?

My car is replaceable. My dog is not.

My car is worth maybe 2500 dollars.

My dog is priceless...

tagged

Current mood:busy

The rules are: once you've been tagged, you have to write a blog with ten weird, random things, facts or habits about yourself. At the end you choose ten people to be tagged, list their names, and why you chose them. Don't forget to leave them a comment that says, "you are tagged" on their profile and tell them to read your latest blog! And no tag backs!
1- I can whistle as well breathing in as breathing out.
2-I say the word "Ow" all the time even if it is not an accurate descriptor of what I am feeling. Sometimes I say ow when I itch. But in all fairness I do get a lot of weird random pain for no apparent reason.
3-I have no idea what the deal is with solid food. Can someone please tell me? Please? He seems to be able to eat whatever I give him but I feel like I'm still supposed to be making him baby food and it would be weird to just make him a little dish of the shrimp fra diavolo I made for dinner tonight. Do I put it in a blender? What?
4-I did a report on the Holocaust when I was ten years old and the strange fascination has never really abated. I took a class on genocide in college. I am constantly vigilant around trains. I visited a concentration camp on my first visit to Europe. It was later turned into a Stalinist work camp. Neat.
5- So. Fucking. Scared. Of. Heights.
6-I am still trying to figure out the technicalities of cremation and Catholicism, i.e. can you drag your charred ass across the pearly gates or no? But, if no, I decided a long time ago that I want to be buried in the position I sleep most comfortably in. I sleep on my side with my knees pulled up and clutching a pillow between my arms. Younger siblings, Thor: make it happen.
7- When I was little I used to think things like, "When I am President..." and "When I become a movie star..." and I still consciously have those thoughts. Man, it's never too late.
8- "Little House on the Prarie" is one of my top five favorite shows of all times and I have the first 2 seasons on DVD. I would have them all if I had some money. I could do a lot of things if I had some money.
9- I don't actually like children. I'm learning to cope because I love Thor Thorsson so much, and of course none of what I'm saying here applies to him, but no, children are not my cup of tea. At all. But I think I'm getting better at it. Maybe some day I will teach a class on Child Appreciation, like they have Art Appreciation for people who don't get it. "Learn how I manage to smile, clap, sing, and not beat anyone when trapped with disobedient little urchins I am supposed to for some reason agree are cute with their shrill voices and underdeveloped senses of humor and taste. You can too!"
10- Wanna hear me play some Maiden on my bass? For your sake you should decline but I can do it.
The 10 people I chose to tag are:

1. Liza - I know how you love to discuss yourself.

2. Margaret -- Consider it payback for all the junk you do to me via email. Also I just recently discovered what a funny and interesting adult you have become.

3. Dawg -- Sorry, has to be done, you haven't blogged in a century.
4. Rob - You do this every day or so, why not do ten at once?
5. Block - I love your blogs, they are so funny. I challenge you to the above plus make each of the ten items something you are angry about.

6. Spencer -- Everything you say is pure gold. And you never blog.

7. Blayne -- I haven't heard from you in forever! Come on, man.

8. Freddy -- I want to see if you are still evolving into a sassy black woman.

9. SB -- You know why.

10. John Hill -- I don't think you complied with Christine's initial tag, so get busy. I also challenge you to include Suzie in each of your ten things.

327

Current mood:sick

The best things about Friday.
The day before.
Thor woke up giggling and clapping.
Singing "It's a Beautiful Day" to my brother.
Learning that my best friend is a sicko.
Starbuck's - Friday like every day.
Bullying my coworkers into taking me out for lunch.
Listening to people sing over the phone. So corny and wonderful.
Bullshit-free workday.
The card and the cards.
The tapes.
The CD's.
The elle.
Bree, the force of nature.
The archaic torture high chair at Zesto's.
Everybody.
The next day.
But the day after that was a complete bitch.

one more i forgot

Current mood:tired

Oh yeah, resolution 11 is that I HAVE TO learn how to use the stupid bluetooth thing that came with my cell phone. I am just not getting anything done. I know they look horrible and stupid, but it just has to be done. Has to. No progress has been made on the other ten. Except of course #5 (lasagne). High five.
Freaking Deadly Lasagne
10 lasagne noodles
1 pound italian sausage (get turkey instead of pork! it's healthier!)
(pause for laughter)
pint of heavy cream
1/2 bag frozen spinach
3 T flour
milk
1 container ricotta cheese
1 pound mozzarella cheese, shredded
1 egg
1 cup parmesan cheese
1 small container sun-dried tomatoes (in olive oil), minced (or a small jar of s.d. tomato pesto)
Boil the noodles for 10 minutes and then toss them in the sun-dried tomatoes. Spread the remaining tomatoes in the bottom of the pan. Brown the italian sausage in a skillet. Add the flour and cook until it no longer looks like flour. Add the cream and enough milk to almost completely cover the sausage. Get it going and then add the spinach. Cook until it becomes a very creamy gravy, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. In a separate bowl, combine ricotta, egg, and 1/2 the parmesan. Lay 5 noodles in the pan to cover the bottom. Then spread 1/2 the ricotta mixture over the noodles. Then spread 1/2 the gravy mixture over that. Then sprinkle 1/2 the mozzarella over that. Repeat the 4 layers. Top off with remaining parmesan. Bake at 375 for 35 minutes. Mmm! Damn!

Resolutions

Current mood:cranky

1. Combine my many, many IRA's.
2. Fix the tax situation.
3. Boost the boy out of the 25th% for motor skills. Hopefully upwards.
4. Get all of the animals to the vet at least once.
5. Eat more lasagne.
6. Get a better job.
7. Put vegetables in everything.
8. Get back on the rocks.
9. Stay moist.
10. No more IM. You don't have to know what it stands for.
Classic Lasagne
10 lasagne noodles
1 egg
1/2 jar pasta sauce (I like Glen Muir)
1 can diced tomatoes (or dice up 2 medium fresh ones)
1 medium container ricotta cheese (not the big-ass size)
1 pound ground beef
1 pound mozzarella cheese, grated
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic or to taste, chopped
1 cup parmesan cheese
Boil the noodles for 10 minutes, set aside. Brown the ground beef, adding the onion and garlic just before it's done while there is still meat juice in the pan. You heard me. Meat juice. Cook until the onion and garlic are soft. Add the pasta sauce and diced tomatoes. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Then taste it. If it tastes all jacked up then just toss it and order pizza. If you can save it with salt and oregano, go for it. In a bowl, combine the ricotta cheese, egg, and 3/4 cup parmesan. Do yourself a favor and use fresh parmesan, not the shit you keep in the cabinet for aeons. In a 9 x 13 pan, spread about 1/4 cup of the meat mixture to keep it all from sticking to the bottom of the pan. If you omit this step you will end up with a big pile of sticky crap that you hack away at for 20 minutes before going, "Oh fuck this shit," and then toss it and order pizza. Then lay down 5 of the lasagne noodles to cover the bottom. Then spread 1/2 of the meat mixture over the noodles. Then spread 1/2 of the ricotta mixture. Then sprinkle half of the mozzarella over that. Then the rest of the noodles. Then the rest of the meat mixture, then the rest of the ricotta, then the rest of the mozzarella. Top it off by sprinkling the remaining parmesan. Bake at 375 for 35 minutes. Bon appetit.
Happy New Year!

a fuckton of pictures

Current mood:irritated

I've been meaning to post all this for forever. Get ready to see the boy grow up before your eyes...
Summer
Baby's first skeeter bites. Knee and head.

I got him started on his manly hilarious t-shirt collection. I'm guessing now that he's gonna turn out straight because gay men tend to have ironic t-shirt collections more than funny.

(Yeah, that says got milk. They should make them for Hindu kids that say "goat milk". Now that's funny.)
I went out a couple of times. Here is me with my sister Liza, looking luscious. Actually we look like a Heart album cover. You know why.

I mentioned I bought a house. Here are the dogs looking nervous about the whole matter.

Bridget came over to check it out. Here she is with Thor.

I took Thor to the company picnic. Here he is with his face painted.

So, I'm gonna kind of skim over this part, but as he learned to hold his head up and sit up and those things, he became more interactive, and so I started buying him a bunch of amusing toys. First was this lie-on-your-back play gym thing, and as you can see it freaked him out a bit...

But he is still styling in his flutter-sleeve blouse.
Then came the johnny-jump-up...

... that he will actually jump in until he falls asleep!!!

God, what a cute baby.

And then came the exersaucer. Nice.

Autumn
But man, I love when the weather finally starts to cool off. I took a picture of this, and it doesn't even begin to capture how beautiful it was.

Know what it is? It's the chain-link fence where I park. Yep, that's right, future site of my head injury (email me for details).
Near the end of October, we took a trip to Liza's in North Carolina for a family weekend, and to meet Thor's great-grandmother. Here they are.

And here is Liza and Thor hiking.

The headgear came out for the season. Note the dumb adorable hat (with Danielle, who he adores).

At the beginning of November, I went to DC on business and took Thor with me. We went to Bethesda to have dinner with my old friend Anya and her beautiful family. Here's Anya and Thor.

Here is Thor, rolling around on the giant bed, peeing everywhere.

And here he is, proving we were in DC, since we didn't go to any tourist things.

Yes, he is on a luggage cart.

Then, in the airport, Thor sat in a high chair for the first time because Mommy needed a drink. Bad.

Later that month Dad had to have a procedure and Liza came down to visit. It was kind of unneccesary for her to come, so she took revenge by doing two things at once that annoy my dad tremendously (as pictured here)... wasting latex gloves and playing with his flashlight.

The next big event was Thor's other great-grandmother's birthday party at the beginning of December. Here's Grandma...

Here's us...

And here's Meat Chunk throwing down.

And finally, this past Saturday, we went with Dad to the Y to have breakfast with Santa. Here's thor with Grandpa.

And here's Thor with Santa. He fell asleep in line and there was no waking him. Really wish this picture turned out brighter.

And finally, let me leave you with the most depressing picture of the holiday season. The Christmas tree at the Atlanta City Detention Center. Just one more reason to keep your nose clean this December: a sub-par tree.

Love y'all!

Cute Halloween Pictures

Current mood:amused

An Open Letter From Thor to the Children of East Lake

Hey punks,
Yeah, my Mom dressed me as a chicken. WHAT. Least you can tell what I am. What the hell are you supposed to be? You got a black triangle painted on your head and a cape. What are you? Dracula? Batman? Shit.
And you, I think you're supposed to be Buzz Lightyear. Why do I think this? Because you have Buzz Lightyear on your shirt. But think about it, man. Does Buzz Lightyear wear a shirt with a picture of himself on it? Fuck no. Get off my lawn.
Hang on, here comes the cat.

And another thing... So what if my Mom picked out all the Special Darks? Today and every day, bitches!
Peace!
Thor
(Dictated personally but signed during naptime)