Wednesday, September 29, 2010


It has recently come to my attention that I am in possession of a whole lotta of crap!

Tonight, I decided that I would tempt Fate and begin packing up my non-essentials since my mortgage guy keeps threatening a closing some time next week. By packing up BEFORE I actually have a closing, I feel like I'm doing two things:
  1. Tempting the aforementioned fate
  2. Thus, jinxing the whole deal
However, by packing up non-essentials, I am also accomplishing two completely different things:
  1. Avoidance of a major grad school paper that is due.
  2. Putting off the eventual and inevitable temper tantrum that will result in a call back to Michigan, wherein the one-sided conversation with go something like this:

Yeah, pretty much like that.

So, tonight, I grabbed my boxes, fought my cat for the packing paper, and began the task of packing up non-essentials.

I've got a wwwhhhooollleee lotta non-essentials! According to my current box count, six boxes worth, and that was just the dining room and living room. I've not even really tackled the kitchen!

As I sit here typing this, in the room, that by far is the WORST ROOM IN THE HOUSE (i.e., the office, or, what I lovingly refer to as the DUMPING GROUND OF ALL RANDOM NON-ESSENTIALS), I begin to break out in a cold sweat and experience a fit of "the palsy" all in one giant spastic moment.

This is going to cause me to drink. Of this, I am relatively certain.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010


This tea makes me very, very happy. If you happen to spy it in a store somewhere, let me know. I am almost out!!!



After weeks of wondering if we'd ever get out of this insane heat wave that just wouldn't quit, last Friday, we got the cold front we'd all been praying for!

Today is morning number three or four that I've awoken freezing. Doesn't matter! Despite the fact that in exactly two months, I am going to be complaining about being cold and having to wear gloves and heavy coats and stuff, I LOVE the fact that I could cuddle underneath my down comforter ... that I could make countless cups of hot tea last night ... that it's time for sweaters and comfy socks and cuddly quilts.

I do love fall!

Check back with me in November or January. I'll be singing a different tune for sure. So, enjoy my happy fall countenance while you can!

Monday, September 27, 2010


My friend, Elly, and I don't get to see each other every day because she teaches at one school, and I, at the other. However, we try to stay connected via email or text message on various super, important details of our day.

For instance, Elly received the following text from me the other day, because the world was going to stop spinning on its axis if I didn't send this very important missive:

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! There's a show on TLC tonight called SISTER WIVES ... about a polygamist. YUCKY!"

I mean, come on now, people. This sort of stuff verges on world peace here.

Today's conversation was just as important and required immediate texting.

Me: "I just fought the Lexmark machine ... I came out on top by a very slim margin."

Elly: "I hate that thing."

Me: "While we are on the subject of hating, I hate all these assessments."

Elly: "Passionately."

Me: "So passionately that I need a cigarette after!"

Tuesday, September 21, 2010


I've been rather silent in recent days.

There's a good reason for that.

Actually, there are NUMEROUS good reasons for my silence.

  1. I'm in the throes of buying a house. I knew this was a huge undertaking ... my parents were real estate agents, and I heard them complain ad nauseum about the Clueless Wonders that wander our Earth oblivious to the inner-workings of "house purchasing." But I never knew the extent to which my life would be sucked up by it all. To use a bit of texting vernacular ... O.M.G.! My life is completely dictated by this house purchase to the point that I'm pretty certain it's leading me around by my the nose!
  2. I can't be completely certain, but I believe I might have signed away my life and the life of my yet unborn child. That is how many reams and reams of paper I've signed in the last week and a half, and my family assures me that I'm not done. No, no! Before it's all said and done, they've informed me that I will also have signed away my rights to any future pets as well as any world peace I might discover! I am sooooo sick of signing my name to stuff!
  3. Grad school is kicking my butt ... so much so, that I sort of feel like it's a bruised and battered version of the body part formerly known as Megan's Butt. I'm behind in my reading by seven chapters ... SEVEN. Yeah. I made an attempt last night to read them ... between the phone calls and the nodding off business, I couldn't get past the middle of the the first chapter, and I'm not entirely sure I know, intrinsically, what I read.
  4. I live in The Trailer Hood, as my father has begun calling it (a la Toby Keith, for the country fans out there). Yeah, the label might have been somewhat sketchy until recently. Our fate was sealed when not one but TWO burgarlies were committed in my building ... one on either side of me. I now sleep with a hammer under my bed and have fielded innumerable requests to be trained to use a gun. I'm thinking that might not be such a good idea. But it is an option ...

Life is a crazy heap of chaos, but I guess that Heap of Chaos is better than the alternative.

Saturday, September 11, 2010



Been there and done that ... TONIGHT, in fact.

I'm doing a Kentucky Writing Project Advanced Institute this weekend, and a bunch of us decided to go to this honky tonk bar after dinner.

Let me just say this: Honky-tonk bars are some serious fun when it comes to people-watching. Serious fun!!!

But it wouldn't be a valuable life experience without a few lessons involved as well.

Lesson #1 ... There is a dress code. It's called plaid. I did not get this memo. So, I rolled into the place in a cutie pink cardigan with seed pearls woven in, a little white tank top, and dress jeans with flip flops. Now, my white tank top, by itself, would have been perfectly acceptable, and probably would have changed the nature of the evening for me. However, I was there strictly for writing research purposes, don't you know. Flip flops are never acceptable, especially in light of the bathroom situation as well as the Drunk Girl situation, which I will reference later.

Lesson #2 ... Covering up just a quarter of your boobs is good enough in a honky tonk. The rest of the girls should be out and on full public display. A modicum of modesty is not at all allowed in these places. My girls could have actually had a field day tonight had I allowed them to come out and play. I did not, however.

Lesson #3 ... Drunk Girl can and will blow chunks all over the table, chairs, and floor next to you. An okay way to help your Drunk Girl is to obtain a medium to large-sized coated paper tray that would hold a good portion of onion rings on a normal day. They are amazingly sturdy in a drunken puking session. I know this now from personal witness testimony, I must sadly admit.

Lesson #4 ... Health department rules and regulations apparently are a little lax when it comes to events like Chunk-blowing that may occur on tables where the public will eventually (and sadly, blindly) choose to sit. For instance, management can allow remnants of chunks sit for a long period of time before someone feels like or has time to go over there with a wet dish rag to clean the unfortunate event up. Thankfully, management does deem the aforementioned dish rag as NO LONGER USABLE, and management will throw it away. Chunks will fall to the floor, and that's where wearing flip flops is not a good footwear choice.

Lesson #5 ... I don't care how many times you've been hit with the ugly stick, the minute you step behind a drum set, you elevate yourself to God-like status. Girls begin screaming and drinking massive amounts of booze.

Lesson #6 ... 80s puffy bangs with super long, dyed blonde, otherwise known as mall hair, rocks in a honky tonk. Men of a certain icky, slimy persuasion think you're hot.

Lesson #7 ... Men that are older than dirt find honky tonks fantastic places to practice lame pick-up lines. They also limber up their well-oiled hip replacements by grinding unmentionables on unsuspecting young, plaid-clad women.

Lesson #8 ... Belt buckles the size of dinner plates are acceptable for any gender. Rock em if ya got em.

Lesson #9 ... You can bring your dog to the honky tonk.

Lesson #10 ... Forget getting carded. Be prepared to have your purse checked presumably for small, but deadly weapons. I left mine back in my hotel room.

And there you go, folks. Ten lessons I've learned from vising a honky tonk.


There's a lot going on inside my brain today.

Technology ... house-hunting ... 9-11 ... life ...

I was invited to be a part of a technology advanced institute through the Kentucky Writing Project. It was a last minute thing, and despite the fact that I've got a MILLION things to do, none of which will be easily done, I said yes to this offer.

So, today, I woke up, exhausted and with a headache, my mind swimming with questions about the technology I would use in my classroom for the rest of the year. It superseded the memories of 9-11 tragedy of 9 years ago.

Nine years ago ...

The memories of that day are both vivid and fuzzy. The fear ... the unknown ... the uncertainity ... the collective mourning ... the coming together ... the ripping apart ...

It's a lot to think about .... a lot to wde through.

Thursday, September 09, 2010


This house-hunting business has gotten me STRESSED OUT. It's all the money. It's not that I can afford it. It's just that when I think about buying a house, I think about foreclosure. For some reason, I'm really freaked out about foreclosure. Not sure why.

At any rate, I've come really close to making an offer on one house, and I feel fairly certain that I might be that close (or closer) soon. So, this time, I've decided that I really am not going to fret and fuss. What's the point?

If it's meant to be, it's going to be. Period.

Why waste time stressing about the stuff that really isn't a given, right?

Honestly, why waste time stressing? Life is just too short.

Saturday, September 04, 2010


Had I been able to figure out a way to walk out of the house without any one knowing I had this under my shirt, I would have soooo done it. They were all in AMAZING condition, and you can't touch these for under a $200 in antique stores ... not in this condition. Both bedrooms and the dining room contained one of these Fancy Nancies!

The whole reason I am NOT putting on offer on this house. These are fuses. For those not familiar with fuses, they are not capable of handling all of the electrical devices one uses in a day's time. They also cause major fires. To change these puppies over to circuit breakers, you're looking at $2,000 to $3,000 worth of work. Why can't teachers get paid like NBA Basketball stars? This house-hunting thing would be a non-issue then.

Have you ever seen linoleum garage floors? Yeah, neither have I!
In Michigan, you could kill yourself on one of these in the winter time ... going from your truck to your house. As you can see, there's only that one little oil spot that someone spent a lot of time cleaning up. Can we say ANAL RETENTIVE?

A DEFINITE "NO" IN MY BOOK ... House #16

That is NOT dust on the floors you see here. That is, I am relatively sure, a thin film of mold. My shoes stuck the entire time I walked on it. To say this place was gross is to use the understatement of the century.

This kitchen was a lot scarier than it looks right now. I was concerned about communicable diseases, let's just say that.

Why yes! That is a large limb from a dead tree jammed in between the patio doors. Classy, right? Probably snatched from the front yard where half the large tree there is D.E.A.D.

I feel quite certain something met with a violent death in this closet ...

In the MLS photos, there were handcuffs hanging from this closet door. As you can see, they were replaced by this loving message.

This was the hallway leading from the living down to the "bedrooms." That is not dust you see on the floor, but rather, a light film of mold and mildew.

This room was the size of a large closet, and yet they decided to paint it this lovely shade of green, add the "lovely" wallpaper board and still keep that carpeting. I'm not even hazarding a guess about what's on that carpeting. All I know is that I probably should have thrown my shoes out when I left the place. Might not have been a bad idea to have gone through a HAZMAT shower as well ...

An all-house exhaust/fan system? Not sure -- it was in the hallway, and I'm quite sure this is what was running through the previous owners' minds: "Why waste all that money patching up the hole left behind by this monstrosity? Why not just rip the guts of the fan out and spend an inordinate amount of time cutting a circular piece of cardboard to put up there. Cardboard solves every problem."

So ... what's wrong with this picture? You mean, besides the obvious holes in the walls and the crude attempt at a fix with duct tape? Oh yeah! I know! The MOLD!

There seems to be a theme in the houses I'm looking at these days. It's called "GAPING, MOLDY HOLES IN CEILINGS." This one was in a closet, and it clearly had been taped up ... like that was going to help AT ALL.