January 23, 2014

In Other News...

I just send this FaceBook message to someone I haven't seen since he was approximately thirteen. The below happened when he was roughly 7 years old.

"Judd, this is completely inappropriate, but hilarious....

when you were little your mother had a spend the night party for the girls in our Sunday school class....

you were up past your bedtime and kind of punch drunk from being so sleepy.... we were all sitting around the kitchen table when you wandered in

you proudly announced to the lot of us that you had named your penis Larry, because when you got bigger and older, you were going to refer to him as Lawrence."

Now, back to your regularly scheduled program.

November 14, 2013

For you on this day.

This year has been so busy with trips and work and things. I am looking at my calendar right now and I can’t believe I am not in a puddle whining about how tired I am.

From now until the 18th of December my calendar is chock full of trips. I leave for Houston tomorrow for Marly’s birthday. Next week it starts with San Antonio, then to Tyler to see my folks for Thanksgiving, back to San Antonio, Arlington and then Houston.

I really have had a blast. I have spent way more money than I meant to, and I have been in Green Bay twice this year, on a family cruise and in New Orleans in October.

There have been funerals and weddings and holidays. There have been sad moments and ones that are so fantastic you (me) do that ugly, happy cry.

Some of you may remember that my dear, sweet cat, Max passed away in April. It was horrific and I am still not back to center. He had stopped eating about two weeks before, he was still drinking, but he flat out refused to eat anything. His kidneys shut down and he withered away from a healthy 12 pound, 16.5 year old kitty to a pitiful shell.

I knew he was dehydrating from the inside out and I took him in for euthanasia on the morning of the 15th.

That fucking sucked, but I know he was tired. He had a wonderful life and he brought so much joy to me, as hopefully, I did for him.

I spent eleventy-nine frillion dollars on purses, shoes, jewelry and on shopping trips with Marly. I was trying to fix a cat shaped hole in my heart. It didn’t work. So I traveled as well.

I have a burr under my saddle that my boyfriend (Nugget) doesn’t really travel. I don’t know why. It’s just a thing. To be honest, there is no reason for him to travel, change jobs, live on his own or take anything “to the next level.” He has the same job he’s had for 12 or 13 years. He lives in a home that is paid for. The fact that he lives with his mother and his sister doesn’t bother him at all. His car is about paid for and he gets pussy on the regular from me. Why should he move his cheese at all? For someone who is comfortable in their rut, it makes perfect sense to stay there. The moving forward thing is all me. The travel thing is all me. Well any of his long term friends and I, which are like, “Jesus Christ in a birch bark canoe, live on your own, have your own life… BE INDEPENDENT!”

I try to get over it because it really doesn’t matter*. But then….

In May I decided in my head that, “he doesn’t like to travel because he hasn’t had fabulous experiences like… TRAVELING WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Yes, we’ve discussed this. I am delusional with a hint of narcissism. And apparently we can add codependent to the list.

So I called Marls and was like, “Dude, we need to take the boys on a trip. A surprise trip. And here are the details, ya’in?” She replied with a hearty, “YES, motherfucker.”

So she and I planned this fabu weekend in New Orleans with the boys. They didn’t know the info. Nobody did.
I just called Nugget.

me: lover**, are you able to leave for a full weekend?
nugget: yes, what’s up?
me: you said you wanted to travel with me if you had advanced notice, is six months enough?
nugget: yes….?
me: good because we are getting on a plane, we will not be in town
nugget: really?
me: yes.

So In July Marls accidentally let it slip that she was excited about “our” trip. He was like, “Oh? Are you going too?”


Then in August, on the way to a Steely Dan concert in Houston, Will, Marly’s boyfriend, piped in from the back seat. “I so need a getaway, our trip is going to be epic.” Nugget, “Oh… so you too, huh? Who else is going on our secret trip?”


The day came for us to go on our trip and y’all? We had the best freaking time.

We all (the girls) decided to wear wigs for Friday, because… WHY NOT. Also, we looked like Jem and the Holograms by the 11th Vodka and Red Bull.

This is Nugget, on the left… and Marls on the right. I travel in a circle of really attractive people.

We got there early as hell on Friday, partied like rock stars all freaking day and then took it easy Saturday. The weather was glorious. Not hot at all, a little rainy and it was romantical.

There is a little café on the square. Nugget and I decided to go there for breakfast on Saturday. It was raining, and we walked arm in arm to the square under an umbrella. I felt like I was starring in a freaking Nicholas Sparks movie.

I didn’t even take a picture of our room at the W, but son, … damn.

We came back to Dallas and something STILL wasn’t right.

When I lost Max, things just went flat. I wanted to be excited about all the fun things I did, all the experiences I had, all the love that I have been a part of … I was just… two dimensional. I knew I was in trouble in August when I started searching PetFinder in earnest.

Every week, I looked. I looked at dogs, cats, rats, more dogs…. Every Egyptian Mau on the internet. Every Korat that was listed. Every gray cat.

I found him… then I had to go out of town.

When I got back, I went to visit him over my lunch hour. He came back to the office with me in a carrier and charmed the pants off of everyone in the building.

He’s little, younger than I am used to. My mother named him Boo. He is lithe and agile. Well muscled and heavier than he looks. His little claws are like daggers into my flesh and I don’t care. He’s happy, he talks back. He wants to be where you are. He likes dogs. He will steal the straw directly out of your cup.

When you first meet him, he will stretch several times until you compliment him on how handsome he is. Then he will run at you full force and flop over so you can rub his belly.

My name is Boo.

No, no… don’t speak, when you do, your double chins move and I’m frightened.

Nugget taught him how to fetch and is working on getting him to speak on command. I am so in love with the little guy.

Things are coming back to center.

*It’s the motherfucking principle of the thing. THE GODDAMN PRINCIPLE.
**Yes, I do talk like that, vomit in your mouth somewhere else.

July 10, 2013

Could You Pass the Coasters?

This isn’t really a post, just wanted to share my crazy with y’all for a bit.

Dream… Last night, or this morning, whatever.


Paul (the ex husband) moved back in … to my house? Where Max (the now dead cat) was running around. I picked the cat up, petted, hugged and stroked him, while trying to keep my short robe shut(?) and casually informed Paul that, “Yeah, by the way… Max died on April 15th.”

Then I ate a coaster and waved Paul off as he bent down and tried to kiss me goodbye, “Too soon? Ok, maybe later,” he responded. And I was trying to figure out a way to say, “Um no, not too soon, just never gonna happen, also, you may wanna make yourself scarce later unless you want to hear me having loud, awesome sex with my boyfriend.” But my mouth was full of coaster.

Mmmmm, coaster.

I told my sister a very short version of this today via text. She laughed and asked if I saw that Paul had finally made a drum. I told her that no, I haven’t, as I don’t follow him on the Book of Face (tm, chocolate bunny).

I asked her why she put “finally” in italic speak, like building a drum would be Paul’s life work. She said, “Because it IS his life’s work!”

Last time she was this excited about him, he had foolishly (IMHO) posted pictures of himself walking on fire. My sister was over the moon with that rich material.

She finds it oddly hilarious and fascinating that he is quite the loon. But I fucking lived that shit and it lost its’ appeal to me back in 2008.

I’m about to do my makeup and it’s 2:15 pm. I have fallen into a lazy ass habit of not wearing a stitch of anything on my face. I blame it all on applaud the invention of lash extensions.

I’m hooked like a meth addict.

I get them done every three weeks, or a month… or something. Sam, this darling, young lady at Oh-La’ Lash, here in Dallas, does some witchery or magic or something and POOF, my lashes are long, thick and gloriously curly.

I think I’ll do that make up application via photos so you can see the lashes.

Wait, a short video is better.

June 24, 2013

Me n' Wheezy Hanging Out by the School Yard

So, for the past two months I have been traveling like a crazy person. Which is normal for this time of year for me.

It’s been good to get out of the house. Being around is still kind of hard with Max’s personality filling up the space.

I took his blue felted cat cave to fredlet and the girls. Nugget helped me (ok, Nugget didn’t help me, he did as I asked, as I was a wreck) gather up and donate all of Max’s other items that could be donated. And I wandered around the house for most of the last part of April wanting to throw everything away, give it away, donate it all and start over as I couldn’t find a comfortable spot in my own home.

May came and brought with it mine and Nugget’s birthdays. And rain, lots and lots of rain.

I gave Max’s favorite little IKEA leather chairs in my reading nook to my maintenance man, Ben. He’s lovely and he is using them in his man cave, and very happy.

The spot stood empty until Nugget got me one of those amazing swivel rockers from Home Depot. It’s probably the most romantic gift ever. Shut up. Let me explain.

I want to have this chair’s babies.

I love to be outside. LOVE to be outside. For the past three plus years I have been spending upwards of 3 hours a day (when I’m home) on my patio at the house. The only thing that would drive me back inside would be mosquitoes and/or if my ass fell asleep.

More often than not my ass would be sound asleep (and then up all night, ba-dum-chhh) because I was living on my patio with some cheap iron chairs with pitiful little cushions. So thin and pitiful that I had a throw or two folded up under each one to save whoever’s ass should recline there upon. Yeah, it didn’t work.

I’m a smoker. I love to be outside and smoke. I like to read and hear birds. I dig listening to nature and shit. And for Nugget who is a sometime wheezy asthmatic, to think of my happiness, rather than his dislike for tobacco, and to get something for me that is something that he will most likely not partake in its enjoyment is fucking romantic as hell.

It was so sweet and the chair (which I had fallen in love with in April) is so comfortable and downright fantastic, that I purchased a matching one to go in the reading nook inside. When fredlet was here a few weeks ago I pulled the inside one outside so we could relax and be and enjoy our coffee on the verandaaaaaaaaaaaah. ‘Twas lovely.

Side note/Note to self… Nugget sent me an email and signed it Wheezy. START CALLING HIM WHEEZY. That’s freaking adorable.

So, last week, Wednesday, Wheezy and I went to a fabulous Mexican restaurant around the way for dinner. I could eat Mexican food every day…. All… Day… Long and not get sick of it. Same goes for sushi, and some Italian.

Around 10:30 in the pm my tummy stood up and said, “NOPE.” And I got SO sick y’all. I believe it was food poisoning as I lost 8 pounds and came around back to center WAY sooner than I would if it had been a variety of flu.

Wheezy, fredlet and Kerry all checked on me, and brought G2 Gatorade and Smart Water and Ginger Ale and made sure I was hydrated. They are a crack team to have on your side and I got well quick because of them.

I got well quick, also because I had incentive. On the flip side of not hurling so hard I want to die, there was also the matter of a nice little live show on Saturday. Wheezy had procured tickets for us to go see Archer Live.

I was so excited. It was fabulous and my lady wood for Aisha Taylor is still enormous.

Before we headed out to Grand Prairie, we stopped by this little eatery to see if I could take some solid food. Yeah, I’m a riot to have around. See the sidebar for info on how to book me for weddings, bat mitzvahs, grocery store openings and fund raisers.

So we walk in, we’re kind of prancing a little as we’re fucking excited as balls to see the show later… we order and he seats me then returns to get a drink or whatever. I’m sitting there, kind of looking off into space when my field of (fuzzy) vision narrows down to a point and I find myself staring at my ex-husband. Who was grinning at me. My mind was all, “Is that… a cartoon character? Who is… is that… who.. uhhhnnnnBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ[static]gggg… shit, that’s Paul.”

And then I died.

Ya’ll know this thing, right chere’?

mmmm vodka

Not to sound trite. But DAMN.

And then I remembered that that man withheld affection from me… FOR YEARS.

Withheld…. Affection… From ME.

So I got up to go say hello.

I walked over and this lovely blonde lady was sitting with him. She was very well put together and he looked like he had just survived a dingo attack. Barely. He stood and I shook his hand… and then hers, I introduced myself, she did the same. I went to give Wheezy the lowdown and told him, “Um, Paul is here. I would like to introduce you and then we can be done with that.” He replied, “Not a problem,” and went to shake hands. Good manners all around.

When we sat down, Wheezy turned to me and gave me enormous eyes. I just said, “I know, I know. We can discuss it later. I just have to say, Holy shit… did we ever get the better end of the stick.” He gave me an adorable grin.

At the Archer Live show, Wheezy and I were out in the lobby, I had just purchased him a beer and he asked me, “Is there anything else you need before we go in, pretty girl?” I replied, “Not a thing, lead on my huuhhh…. “

I was mortified. He didn’t let it lie either, I was like, “Ahem, :cough: I meant to say, ‘Lead on handsome’.” He goes, “Bullshit, you just tried to call me Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusband.” And he’d grin. Eyeroll. He is never going to let me live that one down.

More on that later… and I know how I promised a few months ago to tell you about the time I woke up as Walter Matthau. Well, I did you one better than that. I made you a movie!

It’s all for you kittens, all for you.

April 17, 2013



Rest in peace my sweet, furry friend. You gave me so many good years. You were the best friend and the best cat a girl could ask for.

He deserves so much more than this small note, but I am still working on coming back to center.


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