joeyfullystated

Circle of Life Shit

Posted on December 5, 2018 by joey

Lappy lies on her deathbed, unable to get enough power from life support. Her screen shudders and where there was once a green bar, there is now a white line and a red x, as she tells me, “No more, no more.”

I’m not going to tell you mercury is in retrograde just one more day. I’m not going to tell you this is how two of my lappies died before. I’m going to tell you that before I could even type this on my phone, I had to go get my charger and I had one of those moments like, gah! why life is so hard?!

At least I never got around to ordering a replacement keyboard, so no wasted time or money there.

I’d be looking at new laptops online if my laptop could get me there … No, you’re right, this isn’t the best time to buy stuff for myself, but I will anyway. Well, soon. I dunno. My husband isn’t home right now and I’m trying to maintain my composure until he is.

It’s his birthday.

You guys, it’s his birthday and yesterday was Moo’s birthday and he’s had two days off work right in the middle of the week and he’s spent a considerable portion of it spoiling me! I know, I’m spoiled enough as it is, but seriously, he followed me to work yesterday because I left without my coffee, then he had Blanche serviced, filled her up, and bought all the cupcakes — and today he drove me to and from work! Tomorrow he’s going to the deli counter. So romantic. For me.

Yes, I am a good wife. It would be odd to blog about what a good wife I am but I’m like, the best wife my husband ever had…

Honestly.

The Mister deserves better than to come home from volunteering on his birthday to hear bad newses.

“I made chicken and noodles and green beans, but Lappy dies now and she must be replaced. Happy Birthday. I love you. Chocolate cupcake?”

Lawd.

I’d better sit on this post until he’s home.

Posted in Uncategorized | 48 Comments

SoCS — Maybe We’re On The Same Team

Posted on December 1, 2018 by joey

Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you… Maybe not, cause I didn’t write that song and I don’t really need you, but I do so enjoy you and I miss you when we don’t read and write for a while. First thoughts count, though, right? Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you. Again, no, not so much.

I hope y’all know that song, or now you prolly think I’ve really gone bonkers, but I’ve not really, I’m holding steady at slightly bonkers, which in my opinion, is where it’s at, because without a lil bonkers, who would ever do deep introspection, random asides, or untoward allusions? Would there even be gasping or laughing til we cry? Who would write the poetry or cook the food or paint the art? Honestly, I don’t wanna live in a post-neurotic utopia. I feel a little outside myself when I am more reasonable than those around me. Or when I straighten my hair. I like that whole salad bowl, box of crayons kinda metaphor for living. It really does take all kinds.

Recently I was at a swim meet thinking that you would think in a collection of barely dressed humans, you’d think it’d be easier to find someone. Your kid, really, any kid you know, on deck, should be easy to identify, but it’s actually not easy at all. Yes, yes, they seem to be all different shapes and sizes and colors, there’s plenty of variety, but while they mill around, they are virtually identical. My kid is a white one, no, no, like, there are plenty of white ones, but mine is the whitest one, and you need other light white kids to gather in hopes of singling out the one who has the whitest skin. They’re divided into swimwear for male and female, so that helps some, but in uniform swimsuits they’re kinda all the same, hence UNIFORM. They do the same lil dances and shout all the same sounds. If you can imagine, they all have feet, legs, torsos, arms, hands and heads in all the same places. Not a one of them is missing a nose or having four arms or a big back tattoo. The thing is, I’m tellin you, they’re all wearing caps and goggles and they all have swim shoulders and they’re not as different as they appear to be when they’re having exposed hairdos and wearing their own clothes. I am always losing my kid when she is right in front of me. Sharpies, anyone?

And I thought, as I scanned the group, this is not unlike humanity overall. We express ourselves with our choices from what we do with our hair to what we wear on our feet and you would never mistake your postman for your uncle, anymore than I would mistake Betsy for Sassy, but if your postman and your uncle both wore only a Speedo and a cap and goggles in a pool of other men dressed the same, you might.

I was thinking this is a big job for our brains, finding differences, seeking them out. This is a crucial tool in assessment — for instance situations in which we may need to adapt, let alone finding our children in a crowd — but we seem to overlook the part where we’re all so close, so damned close to identical. We’re all just similar versions of the same shapes, sizes, and colors.

Maybe it’s good to remember we’re all on the same team.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘ma’ is brought to you by LindaGHill

Posted in Random Musings | Tagged parenting, SOCS | 41 Comments

It’s At Four Percent!

Posted on November 30, 2018 by joey

Privacy is important to us. I grew up with privacy and my husband grew up without any and we decided early on that privacy is a good thing and worth teaching as a family value.

We are not a snooping family.
We do not pry.
We don’t believe in TMI, but we don’t ask for it, either.

We are also a largely immodest crew and generally, an open door people. In the house. Amongst ourselves. When you are not here, we are half-naked, blasting music, and having wildly inappropriate conversations, so you can see why we don’t want to stop doing that and behave ourselves when people come to call. At any given moment we are sporting Bioré strips, eating ice cream like hogs at the trough, and talkin shit about you, and that’s why you should always, always call ahead.

That being said, certain events do require closed doors. AND THAT’S PRETTY MUCH THE ONLY TIME OUR BEDROOM DOOR IS EVER CLOSED AND WHEN WE CLOSE THE DOOR, WE LOCK IT.

When the children were smaller people, we would answer sweetly from behind the door, “Yes, Baby, what’s wrong?” and as they grew more verbal, we were nice, but specific, in our direction that they should not bother Mama and Daddy when the door is closed.

Reasons to knock include and are limited to:

FIRE
EXCESSIVE BLEEDING
BROKEN BONES
CHOKING

When they’re small, you gotta get creative. You gotta buy new video games and put out snack food. What a special night! You gotta go wrap presents. Ooh, presents! You gotta get the big ones to take the little ones to the park. Park! Park! You gotta wear those kids out so they’re asleep early. Big day!

They get older and wiser and they hear the door close and lock — they all automatically and voluntarily hightail it out to the living room to play video games and eat snack food with the clear understanding that only in the event of FIRE, EXCESSIVE BLEEDING, BROKEN BONES, OR CHOKING, should they ever knock on that closed door.

You come out smiling at food wrappers and empty cans. You feign interest in the worgly whatsits in the game. You think you’ve done a good job as parents. Your children understand privacy is an important element in their family structure.

Until one night, when your door is shut and locked and someone knocks,.

“WHAT?!?”
“My phone is dying and I left my cord at Sophia’s and I really need a cord.”
“Are you kidding me? No. Go away!”
“It’s at four percent!”
“GO AWAY.”

HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE!

Posted in Random Musings | Tagged lifestyle, marriage, parenting | 41 Comments

#ThursdayDoors — Soldiers & Sailors

Posted on November 29, 2018 by joey

I’ve taken you to Monument Circle many times, but maybe some of you weren’t aboard then, so lemme tell ya, Monument Circle is the center of the city, The Circle City, Indianapolis. It’s a real circle, with a monument to soldiers and sailors in the center. We’re big into patriotic monuments here. I’ve read a few times that we’re only second to Washington D.C. in terms of patriotic monuments.

We’re a decidedly landlocked state, but in addition to Army, Air Force, and National Guard, we managed to have a naval base, a Coast Guard base, and a Marine Corp armory. We may have more, I’m no expert, but if you’ve ever served, I can tell you Indianapolis is crucial, because here in my community is Fort Benjamin Harrison and on Fort Benjamin Harrison is DFAS and DFAS (that’s dee-fass) is where military paychecks come from. Here, they call it The Fort and The Finance Center. I dunno why, they just do. In the 90s they were all, “Well, it looks like the south will not rise again, so why don’t we go ahead and open up this fort and turn it into a groovy place where we can have a mini community with civilian businesses and housing, which will boost the fuck out of our revenue, but maybe let’s keep The Finance Center” and everyone was okay with that because The Finance Center is roughly the size of Pluto, and everyone likes sidewalks to ice cream and donuts. On The Fort.

So you’re clear on the prominence of these sorta things in Indy now, yeah?

Okay, you’re ready.

I really should tell you a few more things. One, when you are young, you race other young people to the top on hot summer days and then you get older and you do it again because you were too young to remember that it was absolutely sweltering and stifling and the stairs seemed to never end and then you get a little older still and remember that and pay a dollar to take the elevator to the top until eventually you get old enough that you’re like, “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

And two, if you’re old enough, you may remember ice skating at the bottom and if you are young, you’re very tired of your parents telling you how you usta could ice skate at the bottom. There’s no app for that.

Okay, now you’re ready.

Here we go.

They light the tree in a celebration called Circle of Lights the Friday after Thanksgiving. I went to that once. In 1996. On a date. My date knew a guy and we had a good view without the crowd. That’s how you should do it if you’re not into en masse celebrations.

I like to go late on the Saturday night after Thanksgiving, when the events are done and I have decorated my tree. This day is a holiday to me.

Here’s one with humans to help you with the scale.

And me, also human, and truly happy.

I love twinkly lights.

View of The Statehouse. (Hoosiers love The. We give article The to everything.)

Wanna see another side?

Reflections of twinkly lights!

And check out the lamps, y’all.

Wow, right?

I know.

It’s a tradition.

#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Thursday Doors | 34 Comments

Where were you in 1973?

Posted on November 26, 2018 by joey

I was gettin born.

This is 45, hashtag no filter.

However, I’m having a lovely rosacea flare, and going to work, so there’s a bit of makeup there. Sometimes it’s just one pink or red splotch, but the last 4-5 days have been like a scourge of scarlet freckles. Please note the white hair blowing across my nose is my own and not a kitty hair, but don’t think for a moment that I’m not covered in pet hair, cause I am. Further, that is actual snow in my hair.

I bet it’s our sixth or seventh snowfall of the season and finally it sticks some.

Is baby snows.

Look what it did to Blanche’s window.

It did that for me, I’m sure of it.

I really wanted to take a better selfie today, but the light wasn’t in my favor, the skin wasn’t in my favor, and y’all, it was not a good sleep night for anyone in the house. We don’t know. We just don’t know. I got three real good hours between 2am and 5am, Woot!

I continue to age naturally, and hopefully with some grace. I started this at 40 but most of you weren’t reading me then. You can watch me grow older every year, growing being the key point.

I hope to inspire others to embrace the whateverness they’re experiencing as time goes on. In my case, drying, crinkling, the appearance of old sun damage. This year, I notice my eyelids are droopier and I’m growing a substantial fuzz. Ya know what I’m gonna do about it? Hellanothin. Okay, I am gonna try to get more sleep tonight. I should prolly hydrate, but it’s my birthday and I have SODA. I am not alarmed. Try not to be alarmed when your face does the things it’s supposed to. That way you’ll have more energy to put toward truly important endeavors, like filling the house with readers.

Posted in Personally | Tagged gratitude | 105 Comments

Thanksgiving 2018

Posted on November 22, 2018 by joey

Well I am just so grateful. I tell you what, I have quite a list!

I talked to my mommy on Sunday for two-and-a-half hours. I love my mommy. I miss her so much. Stupid Florida.

The boy one is home. He’s such a good kid. I love him, too.

Course, I love the people who are here all the time, too. Love my girls. Love them to bits. Smart-assed and foul-mouthed, we dunno where they get it, oh but how wonderful they are.

The Mister may have gotten frisky with me multiple times this morning when I was NOT ready to be awake OR frisky, but he did many kindnesses today. He peeled potatoes, drained potatoes, basted the bird, and did all the dishes. I should probably thrust myself upon him later. Ain’t nothin boring about 20 years of monogamy, I’m just sayin.

We spent the day in our pajamas. I am legit wearing pajamas and a cardigan. It’s a look. I have a clip in my hair. Like from the 90s. When you’re heavy into gravy AND I AM you hafta clear the path.

I am not wearing socks as the hot box is set on 76. Diva Furnace has given us some worry again, and what we do is not touch the thermostat. No touchy. No touchy, no worry.

I day drank. I night drink, too. Bubba got some plum brandy, which I am having the darndest time remembering the name of. Lemme ask him again. Slivovitz. If offered, you must try it.

I am typing this on my new keyboard. When my keyboard isn’t working, I can just plug this one in and type so nice. Since this keyboard fixes the problem, I will order a replacement keyboard for my lappy.

I do not go to work tomorrow. This flipped my happy switch like you would not believe. First, they said go home early on Wednesday and I said “OKAY!” Then they left and as we locked up, we realized we did not know when to return. I text to ask. I also text to ask about Columbus Day when no one else wanted to. I tell you what, the next “Do we have X off?” is on someone else. I don’t wanna be that girl. Also, maybe someone should calendar that stuff.

I didn’t think I cared if I worked tomorrow. Meh. The Mister works tomorrow, cause as he says, “Greed never takes a four-day.”

Sassy has swimming.

guess who was in lane 4?

As it happens, I really did care about not working tomorrow. I’m giddy as can be!

I think it was the four-day thing. FOUR.DAYS. Last time I had four days off, I spent them looking for a job.
Gawd, I love my job.

Also, we had an ENORMOUS sheet cake — well, a whole sheet cake — in the office this week, and they were all, “Take the rest of the cake home,” and I was all, “OKAY!”

Cake is so happy. Ask yourself, when is the last time you saw your name in icing? Cause I mean to tell you, I could not recall. Let’s have more of that. Cake and our names in icing. I tell ya, next time I have a sad, Imma go to the bakery, pick a cake and tell the lady, “MY NAME IN ICING!”

i don’t eat icing. this is irrelevant.

Fucking happy.

I think I’ll finish my plum brandy and go lounge in the tub like I have all the time in the world.

Posted in Personally | Tagged Bubba, gratitude, happiness, Sassy, The Mister | 55 Comments

Like, Alawt

Posted on November 16, 2018 by joey

I always joke that my driver’s license makes me look like one of the peoples from Wall-e. You remember the chair-bound peoples? Yeah, in my license photo, my face is round and huge and peachy and my hair is straight. We’re not allowed to smile at the BMV now, so I’m basically featureless. The Mister’s photo is equally bad. Looking at our licenses side-by-side, it’s amazing those two people found one another and did not make babies with giant peach heads and beady lil eyes.

But you know those moments when you turn on your phone and you’re like — well, like me last night — one big blue blob of sweater like someone didn’t case the pillow right? Lumps of generous curves. Loose breasts and a mother’s apron plopped onto the sofa like a stack of ice cream scoops. Pointy chin shining like the star of the show, and a tiny little peachy head with two dark dots for eyes teetering there in the hammock that is your ginormous second chin — well I’m not going to show you. In reality, I’d show you, Gentle Reader, but it’s the silent unknown readers who will have to imagine my blobbiness.

I am feeling all my blobbiness. Blah. Blahbbiness.
I am feeling very time-for-noodles, time-for-thick-ugly-socks, time-for-quilts. Mmhm.

The weekend is upon us. First, we must coffee and workee. Then we must come home, don fleece and ugly socks, and we should probably make breakfast for dinner. Eggs and toast and jam. Yes, this is what we need. With chocolate milk. Doesn’t that sound good? Fine, I’ll fry you some bacon. Then we will puter and music til we cannot brain and go to bed and make snuggles and sleep. At least, I will, because The Mister is the default morning parent and I am so lucky I married the early bird and he tosses me worms when I wake up.

I have the late afternoon shift and thus I will donate a few hours of my time to good works at school (which will also count as cardio) and then I will go back home and do pleasing things.

Like lie in my bed and sit on my sofa. Like Wall-e peoples. I might read. I might write. I might binge watch tv and pick mats out of Clara’s fur. I live large, y’all.

I lived large last weekend and that’s how I got all blahbby.

How are you feeling? What will you do this weekend?

Happy Friday Everyone!

Posted in Personally | Tagged gratitude, happiness, lifestyle, nature | 50 Comments

In My Element

Posted on November 9, 2018 by joey

It’s Friday and it was supposed to snow. It didn’t snow. It did get below freezing. It’s not only sweater weather now, it’s maybe-wear-a-coat weather, too. I likey. Don’t hate me. I was born this way.

People always be like, “It’s cause you’re still young” and “It’s because you’re overweight” or “It’s the hormones.” Stop that shit. It’s cause I like cold weather and hate to be hot. Period. Been this way all my life, and y’all, if you can imagine, I’ve been younger — too young to blame hormones, and at some points, downright skinny, and I have always, always, always hated to be hot.

You can look at pictures of juvenile me and see it plain as day. Pictures of me at summer camp — you can pick me out easy — in a sea of tan, glistening blondes, I am the red-faced ghost. If I am wearing a sundress and smiling, it is only because I am in the nice climate-controlled environment of the portrait studio, okay? (And maybe cause my mommy said there’d be ice cream after. I am highly motivated by ice cream CAUSE IT’S COLD!)

There are no unhappy photos of me out in the cold and snow. When it’s cold, not crazy cold, I no like crazy cold, *shakes head* I walk around smiling, all red-cheeked, tra-la-la, look at all the hot I’m not bein. Simply cannot help but smile.

People: “SUMMERTIME!”
Me: “AIR-CONDITIONING!”
People: “Dreary gray skies make me feel so sad.”
Me: “I can see and my skin is not made of sticky fire!”

It was 7C/44F yesterday on the way in, and I saw a mitten-clad teenager dressed so that her parka met her boots and I could not help but ask, “My God, what does she wear when it gets cold?” I half-wondered if she’s from southeast Georgia.

Meanwhile, on my breaks at work, I was out in a light sweater, trousers, and ballet flats without socks. I was out kickin up leaves, wind blowin through my hair — Ooh, those were good breaks!

My nose ran a lil and I LIKED IT, okay?

I like cold weather, old things, kale, rain, dog shows, black licorice, twinkly lights, and white wine at room temperature. You like things I cannot stand. Things like unsweetened iced tea, hotels, baseball, black eyeliner, industrial metal, riding horses, gin, rooftop views, and sunrises. Ew. No, wait, I do like sunrises when I’m still half-drunk and about to sleep.
Let’s just enjoy our differences.

HAPPY first cold FRIDAY of the season EVERYONE!

Posted in Uncategorized | 57 Comments

#ThursdayDoors — Union50

Posted on November 8, 2018 by joey

So last Friday, which was a very, very good day for me, The Mister had a bad thing at work and I …

He made reservations and I got even happier and then after we drove the children to all the things ever on Saturday, we went out to eat.

We arrived in the darkness. Downtown on a Saturday night, like fucking grown-ups, man.

I whipped out my phone and The Mister thought I wanted to take a picture of us.
UM. YES, I totally want to take a picture of us. I didn’t even notice the door.

Twas dark.

Inside, there was light, but also other people. Say hi to the stranger lady, Everyone.

We ate that. The Mister had the Duck Duck.
I had the bone marrow, with arugula, tomato bacon jam, roasted garbanzo beans and two pieces of sourdough toast. The waiter said this often isn’t enough to satisfy, so he suggested I order a side, even though we had fries. I ordered the dates.
The bone marrow dish was enough to satisfy me, oh yes, mhm, but I had some of the dates and I love dates.

Dates on a date. Heh.

I went to the ladies’, it had a door.

Upon my exit, I saw another door, which reminded of me why we had not gone to Union50 in a long time, despite The Mister’s love of their Duck Duck.

Live music.
We love live music. We love food. We do not love them together. We like to talk while we eat, and we like to hear one another. Fortunately, no live music that night.

Still I went into the quiet liminal space, where I caught this other door.