The Man Who Birthed a Pumpkin

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Lo and Etta here in our newly created selves: Pie Filling and Ed. Lola is the cutest little jack-o-lantern this side of the universe (save perhaps for Grey, who has the same costume) and I am a man.

I've been practicing my swagger, Lo is practicing her winning give-me-candy smirk. I'm trying to think of ideas for a substitute penis, Lo is taking a long nap and eating a large lunch in preparation for our big event. Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready.

Things to do this weekend:
trick or treat our butts off
pay my DirectLoan payment
zoo if it's nice out
NOT SMOKE
NOT spend money

Things I've already spent money on:
lunch
Megan's record wallhangers
Dad's Mudcrutch CD
Three pairs of new babylegs for Lo (because she's worth it)

\]pllpl;ppooollkolpu
'[okjkkudAnd now a word from our glorious namesake:
; m,m,nmjju


And a parting word from "the man." If I had a way to give everyone a Halloween treat, I would capture the giggle that Lola lets loose when I poke my finger into her armpit in a jar and give a grin to the world.
mm
l;guiooydfrrrrrrr

Hurray, Hurray for Halloween! (Almost)

Nothing interesting to note except for the fact that I found three things I must have today:

A 16GB orange Ipod nano

A replacement camera

A pair of red patent leather kitten heel shoes, what a steal at $90.00 ($20.00 more than the same fucking shoes, last season!)

I added and calculated and wizzed and whirred and tried-to-figure-out-which-bill-I-could-push-off-paying-for-another-two-weeks and finally came to the conclusion that I can't afford any of them.

Sad day at Servpro.

On a lighter note, Lola and I are going trick-or-treating tomorrow and I can't wait! This is one of those things that I get all excited about and repeatedly tell her about before we do it, obviously have fun doing it, and then I jaw her ear off afterwards about how I can't wait to do it again next year.

I hope that she understands that my excitement isn't only T-or-T'ing again after such a long hiatus (why again is it improper to T-or-T once you reach adolescence? Surly teens need excitement and candy too, plus you get to meet your neighbors.), it's being able to share this with her.

I like introducing people to things: pomegrantes, Llanas tacos, anthropological tales, news articles etc. because maybe if they ever come across it again, they'll think back to my thrill at being the first to show them. And maybe I'll get someone to enjoy respective newthing with.

I guess this was a long-winded way of saying that I can't wait to show Lo how trick-or-treating should be. Warm Halloween costumes? (although today is 60 degrees, at the end of October, in WI? Crazy.) Check. Candy bag? Check. Safe neighborhood planned out? Check. Fellow T-or-Ter's? Check, check, check, check! A Mama to eat any candy that looks like a choking hazard? Count me checked. I think I can safely say that we can't wait!

My favorite holiday: here we come!

Dig Yourself Out of the Gutter

My co-worker just sent me this email. The caption says the mom works at Home Depot and is selling a shovel. Jeez, where's your mind today?

Smokin'

Last night I had a dream that Tee died while in Madison. His roomie called me telling me the horrible news and my first dream-thought was "shit, he didn't have any life insurance." How cold. How calculating. Is the economy scare that bad that even my subconsious is scheming for ways to protect myself and my child? That's a spooky thought, just in time for Halloween.

After waking up from this dream, in which Tee suffocated/drowned on his own phlegm (yuck), I sent him a text message saying: "I had a dream you died, we both need to stop smoking."

So, here's my Halloween resolution: dramatically cut back and then stop completely. I know my Halloween is going to be filled with a frightening array of booze so it's going to be a tough one as I seldom smoke a cigarette if I'm not drinking. A social smoker if you will. I'll let you know how it goes.

In other smoking news, I found a website that's pretty fucking cool. The pictures are neat, if sad. Is it wrong for me to say that even after viewing them, I still want my own opium den? The opium would be welcome but not required. Instead, I want a lush opium bed with oriental tapestries on the walls and silk bed curtains so I can read my "calligraphic scrolls bearing auspicious sayings" while pretending my bed is a fort. Maybe this stems from needing a place that's mine, all mine or maybe it's from a love of all things ritual? I have very little of either: even bathroom time is not mine, all mine and my daily ritual involved making a cuppa tea and both last about 5 minutes tops.

Anyone want to make me an opium den and buy Tee some life insurance?

Tell Me a Story

No, I'm not here to digress on my lovefest with Tee. Rather, I will take a divergent path and speak oh-so-eloquently about my favorite kinds of stories: "How they met" stories.

I LOVE "HOW THEY MET" STORIES!

Even if it's something as my parents' simple "friends introduced us," I'll pry and poke and question until I get the smallest of details. Which friends? What kind of restuarant did Dad take you to? Did he pay? Did you think Mom's Catholic school-girlness was naughty? Was Dad's hair long then...how long...like to here? What can I say, I enjoy em.

I think one of the reasons I like these stories so much is because it brings a rush of excitement back to the person reliving it. Another reason is that this simple story can always open someone up to telling other stories somewhat related. My mom will then branch into my Dad's shithead friends (now mostly dead, yikes), the many times they broke up and how they each took a (different) date to the same place which resulted in jealously I can still hear tinging her voice to this day.

I like to imagine how the storyteller must've been like when the story was taking place. I like to place normal, ordinary details in there somewhere to make it more realistic. Did my mom go into the bathroom with her friend and compare notes about their dates? Maybe she had an achey back from PMS but my dad's presence was distracting enough that she forgot about it.

Another reason is that I don't really have a "how they met" story. Tee and I met in high school. We were part of different groups and somehow we met, exchanged numbers to hang out and he called me. I took him to Phil W's house and my guys were shocked that I brought this stranger into our midst*. The silence only lasted a eon but they warmed up pretty fast because even if Tee wasn't one of us, he was recognizable with his long hair and goofiness and soon was accepted as an honorary member of our clique. (*This was particulary unique because I seldom brought gals around and it was even rarer I brought a guy. When I needed attention from a guy, I left, got it, and came back to "my men." I was rabidly anti-boyfriend throughout most of high school.)

Tee and I grew apart after high school with me going to Whitewater and him going to drugs. I found and called the number on the back of his senior picture with the hope that he would design a tattoo for me (artistic and all) and we hung out on weekends in Rockasha. The first time we kissed, Tee was under the influence of some pretty heavy drugs and I broke it off halfway through because I didn't want our first kiss to be under those circumstances.

But since I can't deny the truth of it being the first, that's the one I remember anyhow.

Feel free to add any faux-realistic details in an effort to make this story and it's author more human and/or exciting. I'll see if I work on it too.

Oh yeah, and I've yet to get a tattoo designed for me.

Ketchup

This weekend was emotionally and physically draining. It seems like I got next-to-nothing actually checked off the damn list but when I think back on all the stuff that happened, I realize most of the things that occurred aren't chores or physical things. AKA checkoffablethings.

A quick synopsis of my weekend: went home, drank tequila with my underage brother, smoked pot with my chummy-chummy ex, went to the bar to plot with Meg, felt sad when we missed Meg, went to the Ash and got trashed, met an extremely drunk girl named Wendy, had ex-sex. Finish Friday.

Saturday: wake up to Tee's mother and father in the living room with us while I am in my bra and underwear covered by a holey blanket ('shroom blanket, another story) unnncomfortable...... Took Lo and Tee out to eat, Lo and I took 3.5 hour nap together. Tee and I had more loving to dole out. Ditched Miseal and his soccer team. End of Saturday

Sunday: Tee sick! Lo and I went to the pet store to see animals, get fish. Aquarium area closed due to renovations, shit. Bought a moustache for my excellent Halloween costume.

Other things that happened that need more than a quick sysnopsis: Tee and I ended up in my car at 2am, listening to Wildflowers and professing our love for one another. Am I a sucker or what? I can't give this matter the attention it deserves as my Mom just called and told me diarrhea has it's vicious claws in my poor, poor baby so I'll be leaving but I will finish this post with the short list of things to come:
Fill in the details of this post
Tell the holey blanket mushroom story
Rhuminate about animals

In Which I List All Sorts of Positive Stuff.

#16 - I LOVE Monkey

25 Things I like:

1. Getting A's

2. slicing soft fruits and veggies with plastic knives so the skin near the cut puckers and wrinkles

3. avocadoes, artichokes, hummus, pita bread - not necessarily together but not necessarily separate either

4. taking my dog to the dog park when it's empty

5. the satisfaction of pushing a stack of mail into the mailbox

6. reading, anywhere, anytime

7. throwing a fish back into the lake

8. newly-shaven legs

9. the service I get at The Chocolate Factory

10. music obviously created under the influence of drugs

11. telling Lola "we're making cookies/scones/foccacia, do you want to help me?" and seeing her head right towards the step stool before the words are out of my mouth

12. sleeping alone in my bed

13. my new green glasses

14. cacti

15. manual cars

16. Monkey

17. herbs and tomatos fresh from the garden, into the dish

18. having my own kitchen, exactly the way I want it (I don't currently have this but eventually I will again)

19. shoes that are new to me

20. Goodwill shopping while hungover

21. iced tea but only unsweetened

22. voting

23. taking my Grandma out, even when she's mean to me

24. buying things on Etsy

25. taking Lola out to do something I know she's going to love and telling her all about it beforehand and reminiscing afterwards

Happy Friday everyone!

I finished my take home exam this am, turned it in with 7 minutes left on the clock and I think I did a-ok. This accomplishment leaves me feeling free to have guilt-free fun this weekend, I've earned it.

Possible weekend excursions/plans:

Go to Club Rain with Misael and his soccer team

Make and package pumpkin seeds to give out to people I love

Go out for a beer with Nesto

Get a Halloween costume together

Hang out with Royboy, Meg and Megan

Take Lo to see animals

My Thursday Shitstorm

Now I can be neurotic. Sure, I'll admit it. I was hoping that Lo would be spared the inheritance of this trait but I fear that it's not to be.

Example one: While at work, I systematically take the baby things off my desk (juice cup, baby, shoes, goldfish) and put them in the cubby above my drawers. Easy access, closer to Lola's height, out of my way. Win-win right? WRONG. For some reason Lo takes it as a personal insult that I don't want her juice cup in the vicinity of my keyboard, her shoes tucked into the (little) space between my butt and the chair and her goldfish artfully sprinkled across my desk, lap and floor. She's actually been playing across the office and I moved her stuff as stealthily as I could and she noticed, ran over (not exaggerating) and starting crying like her heart was broken by her evil, evil Mom while trying to replace her belongings on my desk. What's this about? Is this a "being like Mommy" distinction between desk and cubby? How does she grasp the concept that the cubby is second-class storage?

Example two: Poop. Lola freaks out about poop. I'll pause, let it sink in, reiterate: freaks. out. about. poop. When she sees it in the toilet, scrambles off with a little panicked scream. I try to distract her when it's in her diaper so she doesn't thrash. Why is my child afraid of her waste? Today we are at work together and she has been wearing her Dora pullups because they have Boots, Dora's best monkey friend on them. The problem with these diapers is that when poop is in there we have to pull them down to get them off. Bum Bum Bummmmmm.....

Today Lo got onto my lap and I asked her if she pooped. Immediately, a wary look crossed her face. "Gotcha!" thought I. I took her to the changer, took off her jeans and she starting throwing a fit until I took off her socks. Ok, no harm in that.

Next I had her put her hands on my shoulders and had her concentrate on the picture of the Mama and Baby on the wipes box, so she wouldn't see the poop. As soon as she felt me sliding her pullups down, the shitstorm began. Kicking, screaming, flailing of the arms, it was a doozey.

I calmed her down by holding and rocking her and telling her all about everyone else pooping, how poop isn't scary, I might've even tossed in a vocab word like "sphincter." Calmed, we tried again, she whimpered but kept watching her baby. Almmmooooost there, about to guide the first foot through the hole when she looked down. Shitstorm II, this time with real shit.

Needless to say, I'm doing laundry tonight.

Totally off-topic but check this out, if these parents get prosecuted, there's no justice in the world and I will go to Britain myself and bitch-slap the authorities. They lost their son to a freak accident, did their best to cope and help him adjust and grow in his current state, failed and then supported him in the most difficult decision any parent could stand by and watch their child make. How much more punishment can they possibly need?

Oh yeah, and guess who rocked out with her proverbial cock out last night. ME! I got a 20/20 on my last quiz, I met a few new people in my philosophy class and the exam left me giving my professors a look like, "whaaaat, thass all ya got?"' Hurray for me!

Crush, the only soda I'll drink

No, that's not me. But today, it could be.

You know that song, I Kissed a Girl? Well, I went one further and I fell in love with one. She's eloquent and innocent and brave and strong and an editor (!) and I've only gotten through a year into her archives. Wow, Mama likes.

In other news, I have an exam tonight at six. For which I haven't studied and it is now 1pm! I just can't cure myself of procrasitnatorrea, do they have antibiotics for this?

It must be something in the water! I just told Nesto that he's really sexy when he gets all worked up about things. Given that he's Mexican (from Mexico people) and has a tendency to get passionate about things and talk very quickly (in Spanish) about these topics in a raised voice, I've constantly got a twinkle in my eye when he's around. I want him to talk dirty to me, ha.

Now that I've spoken about two people I have a semi-crush on, let's continue this trend and comment on DB.

DB is actually what I call DB, another co-worker. He's mid-forties, pretty darn fit, shortish which makes him even more sexy than if he was fit and tall, dark hair with that wonderful salt sprinkled in, well-spoken, enjoys roller coasters, eating ethnic foods/trying new restaurants, traveling, concerts and other mature, interesting hobbies. I can be having the worst day in the world and DB will come in and make me grin. And not only is DB cool in his own right, but he has two sons 16 & 18, who will hopefully grow into mini-DB's to the delight of women the world over. Men like that should always have sons to pass the sexiness on...

Before you start to think that I work with a bunch of Playgirl foldouts, I might add that for every wonderful man I work with, there's a few duds more. A gentlemen with 2-3 kids, an equal number of baby-mamas and twice as many girlfriends. A guy who should NEVER be allowed to talk to ANYONE as his personality is too abrasive and he prides himself on that, yuck. And I just found out that a seemingly nice man is cheating on his wife, a woman I admire greatly. BUMMER.

This post is going nowhere fast so I'll just end it now. Wish me luck on my exam, I'm off to (finally) study. And maybe fantasize about my co-workers a bit.

I dig reading the thoughts of vocally literate people. It makes my head horny.

A 20 second foray into the Blogs of Note and look what I find: a whole blog about books! Well, the Literacy Gods were smiling on me today and you can betcha sweet bottom that I'll be lovin' on those archives!

Proof that Mondays don't always suck...until I go home to cram for my exam...with Jay. Yeah, Mondays don't always suck!

The MB Post

I love Mary Beth. "Why?" you ask. Well, I guess I should give you list of the reasons:

1. She was the last person I talked to before going into labor. I felt like crying (and did) or offing myself. I was big and hugely pregnant, scared and tired and lonesome and MB was nearly there herself. Despite this, she offered me the sympathy only another pregnant woman could give along with her natural dose of realism. She was a seasoned mother of two cute-ass little kids, I believed in her optimism. I would've believed her if she said the moon really was made of cheese, but she was right, as usual.

2. MB is an internet guru. I met her via Babyfit and as all first time mothers, I had questions. Well, Mary Beth has answers people! Either from experience, her nimble-fingered internet searches or merely intuition, she knowsssss things man. When the old man on the moutaintop finally dies in my area, I'm going to try and replace him with MB.

3. I've always had an unrealistic view of motherhood. (This is a whole separate post, maybe today if I get motivated.) MB along with a few other moms really helped me to realise that there is no such thing as a supermom. You pick and choose your battles, do your best and love the shit out of your kids. She convinced me that belief in yourself as a parent doesn't always come with the birth, you just learn as you go. I'm in her debt for these lessons.

4. She sends me things like this:
The Why's of Men

1. WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?
(because they are plugged into a genius)

2. WHY DON'T WOMEN BLINK DURING SEX?
(they don't have enough time)

3. WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?
(they don't stop to ask directions)

4. WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?
(because their balls fall over their butt-hole and they vapor lock)

(You're laughing, aren't you?!?!)
5. WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?
(so they won't hump women's legs at cocktails parties)

6. WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN ?
(you need a rough draft before you make a final copy)

7. HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?
(don't know.....it never happened)

(C'mon guys, we laugh at your blonde jokes!)
And the personal favorite:

8. WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?
(because a vibrator can't mow the lawn)

Remember, if you haven't got a smile on your face and laughter in your heart...Then you are just an old sour fart!
One for the ladies.......

One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his sweat-shirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, 'What setting do I use on the washing machine?'
'It depends,' I replied. 'What does it say on your shirt?'
He yelled back, ' University of Oklahoma .'

And they say blondes are dumb...
---------------------- -------------------------

A couple is lying in bed. The man says,
'I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world.'
The woman replies, 'I'll miss you...'

---------------------------------------------- -------------

'It's just too hot to wear clothes today,' Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, 'honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed the lawn like this?'
'Probably that I married you for your money,' she replied.

-----------------------------------------------

Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
A: A rumor

------------------------------------------------ -----------
Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I'll beat him to death.
AMEN

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Q: Why do little boys whine?
A: They are practicing to be men.
-----------------------------------------------
Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name?
A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.

------------------------ -----------------------------------
Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder 'Instruction Manual.'

when things aren't going so smooth.

5. And duh, she's lovable.

My Main Squeeze/My Main Problem

I straight up flirted with Tee yesterday. Is that legal, is that allowed? God help me, that man is my weakness on this earth. Along with carbs and gin, eating candy in bed, biting my fingernails... well you get the point.

Here are the facts:
He's in Madison for another year still.
He's not really down with an open relationship.
I'm not into a weekends-only monogamous relationship.

Here's my worry:
He'll take our newly discovered lovin' as an automatic "we're together, everything is hunky-dory and back to the way it was before." Which I don't want to occur and cannot realistically happen. Things can't just be the same, we're different now, our situations are different and I'll resist that mentality with all my might. (I want this fucker to woo me again, damn it!)

My ideal plan (as well as my original one):
He does his own thing in Madtown, I do my own thing in Waukesha/Milwaukee. We DO NOT speak of anything naughty that happens while the other is away. A strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy on affairs of the heart. Keep all "others" casual and fun. On weekends, Tee and I are lovebirds. Once his year is up, we regroup and plan accordingly. I want to look at it like a vacation from being a full-time couple. I don't believe he sees it that way.

What's a goil to do:
I can keep putting off "the talk" and let the time breeze by. It has a habit of doing that and I'm sure Tee isn't clueless to my wandering nature, he might be operating on the same policy and I just don't know it...

OR

I can whip out "the talk" and deal with the consequences.

I'll let you guess which one I prefer.

My baby beats me

Last night I was "wrasseling" with my girl. She gets rough. Fullout body slams, belly raspberries (showing my entire family my horribly stretch-marked, jiggly belly)and accidental size 6 shoes in the face and still expects me to give her wild-crazy leg pony rides! (Of course I oblige.)

I love to see her giggly and goofy with her widemouthed grin. I like to "get" her and chase her and eat her super-ticklish armpits. I was doing all these things and she was good n' riled when I went to kiss her head while she was in her Little Tikes car. Down came Mama's lips, up came Lola's face and WHAM, blood galore.

My tooth carved a large crater of flesh out of the inside of my top lip but it didn't sever it completely. So now I have a bloody, meaty chunk of lip-flap that decides to interfere in my daily conversations. A must-have for every vegetarian.

Despite this, it hasn't been a bad day?

Mama...Bayyybe...

Lola is loving babies right now. Actually, she's frickin' obessesed. Everything is a Bayybe. Bayyybe ketchup bottle, bayyybe shoe, bayyybe plant etc. Sometimes she uses bayyybe as a synonym for "small" (a small plant), sometimes it's used as a way to express ownership (that shoe is the baby's shoe), and sometimes it's a title/noun (that's a genuine baby).

I can tell you that I sick and tired about hearing of babies but it's a subject that Lo holds dear and I'm trying to encourage her interests even if I don't agree. Shiiiit, I was doing my best to avoid bayybes for about 6 years through a combination of luck, everchanging contraceptives and lots and lots of prayers in my newfound religiousness when I thought there might be a bayyybe. Of course I reverted to my old ways as soon as I knew there wasn't, talk about not learning my lesson! This pattern and mindset sure makes it hard to get excited and comfortable with bayyybe talk every minute of every hour of every day, but I'm trying.

There is a point to this dear reader, which I will get to shortly. Yesterday Lola and I went to Cozy Nook Farm where we bought some pumpkins, sat on some vintage John Deere tractors, accepted candy from a stranger (jeez, am I slacking on my momness or what?) and pet some cows. First we got to pet the calf that was only a month old. It was housed in a nice little area all it's own with clean hay and a cool breeze. I was a little hesitant to let Lo pet it though because it had flies congregating on it's legs. When I shooed them away, I found healing raw patches and the poor baby had a pretty pitiful cough too. After hearing the creature wheeze, I decided it was time for Lo and I to go look for healthier animals to pet. We called a big cow over (named Cinnamon) or in Lola speak, Mama. A big cow, obviously the Mama.

Then my automatic cynicism receded a bit and I went into empathy mode. What if it is the Mama? How does she feel having her month-old, sick calf separated from her to draw pumpkin buyers to the farm? Does she even care, being a cow? I must admit, it didn't seem like she did, she was too busy sniffing/snotting on my baby's feet to look very interested in her own baby. But then again, it might not have even been her baby.

The point I'm trying to get it at is Lola is teaching me as much as I'm teaching her. Fuck off, I'm not spouting cliches for the hell of it, I'm trying to say that she leads me to think critically, open up my narrow perspective and maybe change my mind about a few things I've tradionally held one way or another. She makes me look at things with new eyes, I smile at things that I know she would like, I moo at cows when I'm all alone in my car. I skip on my way to night class and smile at people who give me disdainful looks.

I think I was well on my way to becoming a very serious, very self-absorbed person before Lola came along. I would never have skipped to class unless intoxicated. Maybe because I would've been embarrassed but most likely because it wouldn't have even occured to me. Lo has brought some serious fun into my life and rerouted my path to personhood all the better. I like being Lola's mom. I like myself more and I love her. Hear that Lo? I love you.

Do I love everything bayyybe? NO. But I love my bayyybe more than fumbling words can say.

It's not Thanksgiving but...

And some days I think I have it bad. This is humbling, hopeful, heartbreaking and uplifting all at the same time. Not to mention really fucking scary. Flesh-eating bacteria in Boston?

Happy Friday everyone! Happy Friday to ME! Lo and I only have 1.5 hours left at work and then we are going to go see Daddy! I think we're both excited.
''":"'[p":{P;
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87/;' 7 ;7;6[6 ;[p;[gnb'\]'nh/nnnn
fg ttttttttttttttt Lola


That's Lola bianary for "Have a great weekend!"

Top 100 Books to Read List

I've shamelessly stolen this list from another blogger. After "tasting" her blog today, I am excited to go read some more. You all know how I fiend for archives...

Here’s how it works:
1) Look at the list and bold those you have read. (I put a single asterisk* next to the ones I started, but couldn’t finish because life is just too short for that kind of misery. Double asterisk** means I finished it and hated it.)
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Reprint this list in your blog so we can try and track down these people who’ve read 6 or less and force books upon them.

I added the parbold, ones I've started, haven't finished, but mean to.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible*
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller*
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini**
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
7 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold*
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville*
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

Humbling. I've read 32, not even a third of the way through... And I thought I was relatively well-read.

#3 & #6 - Food and Belly Fat, I think they might go hand in hand?

This is certainly NOT my sign. My sign would convey the unwelcomeness of meat and my extreme love of cheap, dry, red wine. Something like: Live animals and wine-soaked bacchanalia ahead, Ettas welcome.



I chose the most lightweight of list topics today, har har, that was a really bad pun.

It's particularly pun-ish(ing) because I'm not lightweight, I'm heavyweight and in serious need of exercise, toning and tightening. I would be having A LOT more sex if I felt more confident in my body and I want MORE SEX in my life. Do you hear me sex gods? More!

Soooo, I've decided to hike every weekend until a true WI winter sets in and then I'll treadmill it. I'm going to walk this ass, belly and lovehandles right off. I've pretty weak willpower but if I can keep in mind the ultimate goal here, need I remind you, then I think it'll spur me on enough to accomplish my sex. Oops, goals, I meant goals.

With that said, I'd like to transition to my favorite topic: food.

I love food. I love artistic, wholesome, stick to your sides food. Which is why I have lovehandles... I'm a vegetarian who gives in to carb cravings far too often. I eat pretty darn healthy though, lots of fruits, vegetables, whole grains but everything is made in the Midwest style. Tomato soup is made with heavy cream. My cracked wheat bread is slathered with mayo before being loaded with veggies.

BACKSTORY: "Ummm, I'm kinda picky." This is a phrase I utter often when first meeting people. It's my version of a personal just-met-you confession and warning, rolled into one. They usually laugh, offer up a personal anecdote in which they too seem picky and that's that. Until we get to eating. They soon realize between my "can you exchange the Gouda for dill Harvati" and the "minus the spinach but add extra tomatos and is there anyway to get some fresh garlic on the side?" that I'm pretty fucking serious. So much so that I feel bad eating with someone that embarrasses easily, I leave hefty tips though, anybody who deals with gracefully with me deserves one.

I'm the scourge of waitstaff everywhere. I don't eat fastfood, but if I did, I'd surely be kicked out of the drive thru for "teasing" the order taker. And I believe Wisconsin is openly antagonistic to vegetarians statewide. We are a meat-eating state. You know how we have lots of cows? The dairy and cheese state? Cheeseheads? Any of this ringing a bell? Well. When those cows get too old to be milked, we eat em. Along with ass-loads of pork and chicken. Our hispanic population (quite large by the way) eats goat. Our Greeks (much smaller) eat lamb. Our Hmongs (36,000 and GROWING) are rumored to eat dog, but I don't believe that one.

What I'm trying to get it, badly, is that we are a very carnivorous state! Hey, you cushy out of state vegs. come to WI, go to any random cafe. Order a cold sandwich and then say: "but without the turkey..." and just you wait for the incredulous and/or dirty looks you'll receive. 9 times out of 10 your server will say something like this (adopt shitty attitude, head cock and fake incredulity) "so you're telling me that you want the Cranberry Bog on foccacia with cranberry cream cheese, provolone, walnuts and red peppers... but no turkey? You know I still have to charge you full price right?"

Umm, yes Fucker, full price it is. Why do they automatically assume that I'm ordering no meat to bring the price down? Is it so inconceivable that I don't like meat that any other reason for my irrational request is automatically preferable? Arrgh, I am SO sick of being treated with like a lunatic for not eating meat. I would mostly rather eat at home where I can make everything perfectly my way than be faced with the ordering process sometimes. Especially if I know that particular restaurant is adverse to subsituting. My diet can be a real pain in the ass at times.

BACK TO POINT: I know that other veggies living in the Midwest have the same troubles as I. I know that they probably have stronger willpower. They probably don't add cheese to cheeseless sandwiches (what? I live in WI!?) I know that my jelly-roll is my own damn fault and not excercising is stupid, unhealthy and needs to be changed. I know that my genes have the capacity for great weight gain, especially after children come along, and I have the build (hipbones connected to the tit-rack) for heaviness so I'll have to be careful.

I'm not perfect, I've got a large ass, disturbing upper arm pudge and thunderthighs. But I feel as if I'm fighting the good fight with my diet and my impending exercise regimen and subsequent weight loss will only heighten my conviction. So there.

#8 - The Privacy and Subsequent Publication of BHL

These are my henchmen, rolling out the red carpet for your arrival. It's meant to make you feel valued. The carpet, not the henchman.



Probably the least juicy or interesting topics on the List of Things I Will Bitch & Moan About but whatever, sucks to be you.

#8. Why I want to create an archive of posts before "going public" is simple. I first became familiar with this blogging format through Mary Beth's blog Shout out MB, you're the best! I loved going back in the archives and reading up on a person's life, how acceptably voyeuristic! So, I decided I would do the same. Then, I realized that it probably doesn't make make of a difference if I'm public or not, since there's about a zillion bloggers out there, all vying for readers.

So, I made Blackheart Lola public (the fanfare was amazing, huge red ribbon with over sized shears, ceremony and all) and if I pick up a reader here and there, welcome. Welcome to my blog, feel free to comment, I sure do enjoy a good camaraderie here and there. Maybe with time there will be more but it's ok either way, I'm doing this for myself.

Again, welcome to Blackheart Lola, pull up a chair and I will tell you a tale.

Family Matters

My family is pretty cool. After the whole I-hate-life,-the-world,-and-especially-my-family teen years ended (blessed relief) I've realized they are pretty fucking great actually.

The more involved I get with other peoples' families reallllllllly makes me appreciate mine. Sure, my brother is a juvenile deliquent with a tendency to do some monumentally stupid shit. Yeah, my mom calls Johnny Depp Johnny Debb and buys way, way too many toys for my child. Ok, my dad speaks little and ignores a lot unless you're speaking Tonto-talk: wine, music, cooking etc. Lola can be a huge brat at times BUT they don't even compare when it comes to some families.

To prevent myself from being dooced - I will try to make the following anecdotes as generic as possible.

Some families I've met hate each other. They'll come right out and tell complete strangers that they are better-loved than their own blank. They scream at each other on the phone, they comment on how superior their children are vs a siblings'. They call each other worthless. All I can say is "ouch!"

I try to be considerate of my siblings' feelings. Even when Pete is a total space cadet and forgets a birthday or, oh, maybe schedules his vacation practically ON my child's due date, hey, is raising a stink really worth it? What if he died tomorrow? I sometimes snap at Ian (although I do my best not to) but then I feel bad, apologize and take him out for lunch. Oh yeah, and I don't punch Chad in the face for his politics, and that's saying something.

Some families have too much money. These family members grow up to love the hollar-hollar-dollar much more than each other. They marry spouses whom they don't love and have stuck up children together. The siblings don't get along but they don't fight often because they are too busy pursuing their own, costly, interests. Hunting takes precedence to romance. Downhill skiing and ATV's and super expensive remote control cars are more important than actually talking with the kids. Designer shoes, jewelry shows and the newest cleaning gadget are the first to be bragged about, but God forbid someone mention a (gasp) book!

Now don't get me wrong, our family is materialistic in the basest sense. You should see our fucking living room, it's a miniture version the the Happyland Palace or whatever M. Jackson calls his cameoflauged Venus childtrap. We love art shows and all the jewelry that comes with it. If we had a lot of money, who knows, maybe we would've turned out exactly the same. BUT, we don't AND we didn't.
I enjoy shopping with my mom and sister and grandma and our babies, Lola and Grey. It's trying at times, I get cranky (especially if I haven't eaten) my Grandma unintentionally cuts me down, I might possibly be hungover... But besides all those things, I don't really go to buy things, I seldom have money, I go to hang out and bask in the female family ambiance. I'm so glad that I have a daughter that I'll be able to pass this safe, loving tradition on with.
While trying on shoes, I fill my mother in on my love-life, school, my goals. It's at Target where I remember to tell my sister an anecdote about Lola's latest and greatest temper tamtrum. While eating at Sprizzo with Ian, we trade ideas on our first tattoos. Yes, we're spending money during these outings but sometimes it feels like they are more of an excuse to bond with family than replenish the toilet paper or find a new pair of jeans.

Now that I'm thinking about these families who-shall-not-be-named, I keep coming up with more examples of horrible family ties. The dads who left, the naggers, the selfish SOB's that.... wait a second, breathe.

This makes me want to go home and hug my not-perfect but closer-than-most family right now. I'm giving great thanks to that Savage Garden that placed me here that I'm a Llanas and that Lola is one too!

Bwett Erickson

Brett Erickson is an alien. A one-of-a-kind, last-of-his-species alien. It might be a good thing. This is a picture of a guy that looks a lot like Bwett will in a few years. If you want to hear Bwett, listen to the Neil Young song that goes like "there was man, playing, in my head and I felt like getting high..." put that sound to a Counting Crows song and you've got Brett singing. I love Brett.

The Death Scene

I'm not sure if having a funeral is more for the mourners than for the dead as some people hold true. I understand that a chance to talk about the dead with others who loved that person can be healing, but a funeral can also be a disaster. I once went to the funeral of a guy I went to school with since kindergarten. I became fast friends with him and his twin sister in high school and Tom and I ended up doing drugs together. A LOT. I ended up having a few years of drug-romance but towards the end, my men and I were getting edgy and irritated with one another, probably (duh) from the drugs....

I cleaned up my act a bit and then cleaned up a lot more when I became pregnant. Tom didn't. He got shot during a drug deal gone bad, drove away but ended up crashing his car and dying.

During his funeral, a pastor told us alllll about Tom. His personable ways (true), his belief in the goodness of people (eh), and his love of god (ummm...)
By the time he was finished, I had a shitty look of open-mouthed disbelief on my face that probably looked incongrous at a funeral. Fuck it, I thought, this is bullshit. These people clearly didn't know Tom, the music sucked, we always talked about getting high at each others' funerals and everyone was mindblowingly sober. I do NOT intend for this to go down at my funeral, even if a funeral is more for the mourners. I only get one and I'm planning it now to make sure it goes my way.

MUSIC:

And When I Die - Watermelon Slim

This one I will have to update once I get my TP CD's back in order. I've been choosing songs for my death for years now.

DECORATIONS/GUEST CLOTHING:

Dark red anything. Black cloths over the mirrors (like Stella's funeral hey Tee?) Guest should wear casual clothes: jeans, t-shirts. A nice veil here and there wouldn't hurt because they are so romantic but not necessary. Please, do not pull the suit out on my account, complete overkill.

SPEAKERS:

NO religious men (or women) of any kind. NO talk about where I am now besides the huge ass diamond my ashes are going to make. Hey, NO talk about burning in hellfire either. NO Purgatory. NO religion! Disobey me on this one and I'm so haunting your ass.

Lo, singing the lemondrop/raindrop/ah ah song. That's probably the most cheerful, obxious song I can think of and coming out of Lola's mouth, it's so fucking sweet, some diabetics might just drop dead as well. This is a must.

Roy, Megan - they can say whatever the hell they want. They can stand at the podium and wail if that's what they'd like to say, I just want them to be there.

Anybody else that I liked during life (Tee, Roy and Megan please regulate on this one, I simply can't abide that someone I hated talk about me when I can't stop them.) can speak, don't get too mushy, DON'T get religious. Oh yeah, and don't say "she's in a better place now" that's so lame.

THINGS I'D LIKE REMEMBERED: love of grizzly bears, squid, Lola, Monkey, Tee, books. Fear & disgust of pregnancy yet managing to become an ok mom. Excitement at archaeological discoveries and new authors and movies. DORK. Jeep. Cooking. Partying. Zoo. Waukesha Travel Whores. Spreading the love.

FOOD & DRINK: Full bar, canapes. Taco dip. Megan should make the artichoke dip. Roasted red pepper hummus with pita chips. Bagels and cream cheese. Mom's spinach manicotti or lasagna. New Glarus Staghorn beer. Good gin & tonics for Mari. Plenty of limes to stab for Megan. Plates, napkins, tablecloths should be a dark red. Dark red is the theme color if I get coffin options.

DONATIONS: Send donations to either:
Lola's schooling
Purebred Cat Rescue
Set up a scholarship for single mom's at UW-Waukesha. Don't make the required GPA too high, single mom's have a lot on their plate!

Location: Either Natureland Park in Whitewater, Frame Park in Waukesha or Nice Ash. If money is problematic, my parents' house can work as well.


WILL:

Tee gets Monkey. You lucky, lucky dog. You also get all my books (excepting a few further down). You are making out like a bandit in my mind. You also need to posthumously promise me that you won't live at your mom's house with Lo, you know my concerns, please honor them after I'm dead. You and Lo get my life insurance money for school.

Megan: you get my couch. I know you love it. You also get my diary, if you can find it and my enormous green blanket that is the twin to your blue one. If I have any mugs that you like, I would prefer you take them to drink tea in. I love drinking tea with you after a long night of drinking booze. Any money I have in my Edward Jones investment portfolio I would like you have for school. All 400.00 of it...

Royboy: you get my pots and pans, cheese grater, colander, potato peeler etc. Throw out your crappy kitchen tools. You also get my Friends & Family address book because it's got the most beautiful picture of you on it. Any art on my walls that you like, please take it and decorate your house a little!

Meg: you get my applegreen KitchenAid and cheesecake pan. I pass the cheesecake torch to you woman!

Nelly: you get my TV and DVD collection. I feel that this is most appropriate because we have so many movie memories together. You also get my car. I know it's not as cool as the Caddys you were looking at but it's mine, so treat it well.

Lola: you get all my pictures, my camera memory card and my blessing to do with them as you please. You also get a majority of my jewelry, please take better care of it than I have. I will be writing you a letter later on that I'll give to you since I have too much to say to you in the Will portion.

Mom: you get my moonstone ring and my turquoise pendant with the swirls around the edges, those are my two favorite pieces of jewelry you bought me. I've always appreciated being showered by your well-chosen handmade jewlery!

Dad: You get my CD's, I'm sure you'll be able to pick out which ones were my favorite while listening to them.

Corrina: I'd like you to take over this blog should I die. Not much of a gift I know but I feel as if you need an outlet and this might be a better gift than it sounds. I also want you to have the fish eye necklace (tans and browns) made up of tiny beads that you wore constantly when you were younger. Lola and I take turns wearing it now, we've been keeping it safe for you. Also, please take my thin red watch. I know it won't work well in the vet office but it's so pretty and it never gets used.

Greyman: you get my complete collection of Edgar Allen Poe. It's a little scary now buddy but that's real genius wrapped up in book form. I'd also like you to have any Shakespeare plays I have, make sure you're Mama and Daddy read them to you.

Pete: Please take back the ring you made for Blake for me. I love that ring, it's so beautiful, feel free to melt it down and make something beautiful for someone else you love. But do it for free.

Jessica: I want you to have my purses, bags, backpacks etc. I know you're a purse lady and I'd prefer them to go to someone who appreciates beauty ha!

Chad: pleae take the money plant in the blue pot at Tee's house in return for the death of the collection cactus. That money plant is supposed to (duh) bring you money so make sure to keep it alive and happy at Servpro!

I guess I don't have a lot of material goods, no hefty investments to pass on. But I do have a lot of love for the people mentioned in my will and everything I've chosen to pass on has been carefully considered according to that persons' need and character. With that said, adieu.

Etta