Bad-Tripping Through Monday

What a long & hellacious day this has been. I can't believe it's only 4:30 or so. Feels like it should be 9pm three days from now.

First of all, this freaking Nico-patch isn't do me a damn bit of good today. Let me just get that out there right now. So, YES, I have been a bitch. No, no, let's back that one up... I took the idea of "Bitch" & added some salt, cayenne and hemlock to it so I could dish it out all new & fresh. About 30 customers served so far today...

I did behave myself at my appointment this morning though. Those guys were so dang nice, I wanted to ask of I could get a can of the air they must be breathing. Seriously. I hate going to see new doctors anyway, but I'm used to my regular place. This was a sorta new doctor for me, so... The guy that does the check-in on your vitals and such was training a new employee. She's a lucky hire because he was such a sweetheart. Her future patients better pray she turns out exactly like him. (Of course, I felt my inner bitch try to come out for a moment when I had to get my big ass on that scale. Man. I am going to have to get some glasses that distort the hell out of numbers before I start getting a complex about this weight.)

The (sorta) new doc was cool as hell. Funny. I only vaguely remember her from before. She seems like real good people. Blunt. No jive, but good heart. We were cracking up during most of the appointment. Because I am on so many meds - the kind that make you want to build a bathroom in your car or get some of those Astronaut diapers - I asked her about a certain kind of, um, exercise. We almost passed out laughing when we decided that's some mess men came up with to watch us make funny faces. For real. I tried doing this once & made the mistake of being with that crazy assed BFF T. This loud-mouth heffa told the whole damn cafe we were in that I looked like I was redacted to preserve a bit of my dignity) I may never go back to downtown Dallas again. I love T, really, truly I do, but B and I are going to have to remind her about that whole Inside Voice thing.

Anyway... (Can you guys tell I'm still struggling to separate these posts from the Project stuff? LOL)

I went on the G just to be a public snot & complain about this nasty smoking habit I created for myself. This is what I got from one of the sweetest of my buddies over there: Swanson Vitamins.

Um, yeah. Thanks, boo, but it's a freaking vitamin. The only vitamin that is going to help me with this is the one that can knock my ass unconscious for about a month. I could wake up and feel like I might be able to go on without the shakes. For now, it's going to be this foul gum and the Patch. My skin is so sensitive these days that anything sticky marks my body for days & days. I still have the outline from something from back when I was in the hospital. Last July. I've always had sensitive skin. That and this freak-show hair that turns a goofy shade of red in the sun. (Thanks for those genes, Mom.)

Ah, well. I did have another weird find on the G today. Before I do this, I want to warn you: If you look at it, this is going to stay with you forever. AND EVER. Seriously. I have memory problems & I might forget my name or how to tie my shoes, but... this is sandblasted onto my brain forever times ten. Here goes...

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From 9Gag.com

Is that messed up or what? The caption was "This cannot be unseen." No doubt. I'm not going to want my nephew to see the movie now...

Yeah. And then, while I was taking a minute to chat with a semi-BFF (all of us Bitches are working toward the real thing with her), she was feeling about as frumpty-dumpty as I look today. I happened to be looking at this at the time so I read it to her:

Cheered her right the hell up. Good. I told BFF B/Texas about it and that I'm thinking of pulling this new one into the BFF circle. B was like, "She sounds all right. Kinda stupid if she believes that corny bullshit you fed her, but... We'll train her." (Poor woman. She's about the become a member of the Bitches.)


Well, it's getting a little later in the day. I need to get off my arse and since I can't have a *fag (Hi, David! Readers, see note below) and get something that resembles food on the table. You guys have a good rest of the day & remember:

Peace
--Free

Arse = ass
Fag = cigarette

Sunday S'posed To Be

I am supposed to be writing. Got up again at the damn dawn of time so I might as well be doing something productive, right?

Um hm.

Yeah, I'm so productive that I called & woke up BFF "B" (Texas "B," Alaska B was here til around midnight). Told B that I needed some motivation to quit fidgeting so I could just sit & write. She pretty much said something kind of foul to me & said she'll call me later.

So I'm not writing, trying not to smoke, trying not to eat & damnit, those blueberry muffins from Costco are just screaming my name!...  All I've got left for now is to surf the Net, add another 3 million apps to my phone, and... bore the crap out of you guys with this lame ass post.

Just thought of something to share with you: B & I went to Old Navy last night. She has an upcoming informal wedding to attend and I have... Well, I have serious wardrobe issues. All my really cute warm-weather wear is really snug. (I will tell you in another post - maybe later today - about an outfit I wore on Friday.)

Anyway, we hit up O.N, because there's a sale on & B has a coupon. Since Nordstrom and any boutique downtown is now way out of limits, O.N. is my spot & usually they have great bargains...

Usually.

The sale yesterday? Pure bullshit. The only stuff on sale (IMO) was so damn ugly it belonged at a really bad yardsale. (I might be exxagerating a little.) Some of the stuff was cute. All that "cute" came in sizes -6 to 6. And what was in my size?

Yeah. That's the kind of neon fugliness I had to consider.

Bump that. Dark-skinned as I am, in that bright California-Crayon-colored mess, I'd look like fucking Flavor Flav in drag. Besides being a hot white smoking mess out of some low-class design school class, that crap was not really made for summer. The fabric is the kind to stick to you if you have one bead of sweat on you. (I pretty much said all this out loud - not real loud - to B. This stingy bitch goes, "But, girl it's only eight dollars." I had to remind myself that friendship is a process.)

I stood around that rack for about 10 minutes just to see if anyone else was interested in such crap. The only person who even paused on the way by did the same thing I did: took a picture. You know she put that up  on Facebook or something. Probably labelled as "Funny Pic of the Day."

Yeah. So, I didn't find much at the Navy. I did get a cute t-shirt that will probably shrink the first time I wash it & make me look like an orange Jamaican dumpling. I got it because it only cost $3.99 and I just knew I had a pair of shorts in a matching color at home. I did. Threw those out when I remembered what size they were in.

(Note: This having to only post stuff not to be in the book is going to be tough. I hope I don't end up running you guys off.)

Okay, so I can quit bugging the piss out of you guys. People are rising around here. You know we have to get ready for our Sunday eats. B is going to show us how to make her Fruit Pizza & my sister is going to teach both of us how to make Nilla Wafer Pudding Pie. I've eaten enough of it in my life for the recipe to be engraved on my gut, but...  I was supposed to take out some chicken last night & forgot so my sister is about to have a fit when I tell her. Tough. They know better than to give me stuff like that to do! LOL

Seriously tho - hope everyone has a good Sunday, a peaceful & stress-free Sunday. Be blessed, be happy and just try to be free.

Peace
--Free

Saturday Randomness

(For those who get the email posts, I apologize. I'm having a crooked morning. I think I've had to edit/update this one 4 times. Sorry bout that. I'm leaving it alone for now. Try to read through the fog.)

I am not s'posed to be putting up anything here that is going into the project. It's kind of tough not to be on here, running my motor mouth every minute.

Still & all, I have plenty to share. Here are some pics I just flipped through on the phone:

This is not a great pic quality wise, but it's pretty special. It's my niece & another mommykins returning from their first stroller walk with the babies. My girl has waited a looong time to be a Mommy. I'm so proud & happy. Almost missed getting even this shot. Good thing I glanced out the window just in time... (This would be my favorite pic if I had gone & cleaned the front windows last week like I meant to! lol)

These of Kita Kat from when he was a kitten. Crazy little bastard. Was the only one who probably didn't hate me at that time. I'd just been released from the hospital & was running real low on sanity. Kita gets me because he's also crazy as hell. That might be because we thought he was a girl until those balls dropped. Wonder if he is gender-confused? Nah. Just crazy, I think. (BTW: Kita is about to be re-named The Boss, thanks to Randy over on G+)

"Hang on, Trudy! I'm coming to save you, girl!"
(Actually, he was trying to break out of the house to join me on the deck.)

"Aw, shit! Not good, not good..."

I just love this one of DJ. Does he not look like a straight-outta-Compton thug? We have better plans for him, but this picture just cracks me up. I call this one "Thuggy-D," but not around his parents. They think I'm a responsible adult...

"Say whaaat?"

I'm kind of proud of these curtains. The fabric on the left looked a little crappy until I turned them into the summer curtains on the right. Kita digs it. My bedroom window is where his sits to watch over his kingdom. I have to keep that space looking fly.

What the purple & blue hell!!!

Pretty sure I posted the pic of these boots before. Can't help it. I'm fascinated. Trying to figure out who the hell other than Prince, Little Richard or some crackass hoe would wear this bullshit. There is no way in hell that can work. (OK - Prince could make it work. That sexy little mother**cker.)

Let's all pause & have a Prince moment:

(You better watch this real quick. Prince is sexy - and a little bit fucked up in the head - but he doesn't like his music being out there. The man likes getting paid. Sue me. Blood from a dead turnip.)

Now, these are some cute boots. I know I must've posted these before. They look plain the the pic, but, damn were they cute. Of course, I can barely walk a straight line in flats. This kind of look right here is going to be off limits on my clumsy, baffled ass for a loooong minute.

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Alrighty. My mood has passed. I'm going to get up and do something productive. Maybe take the Deej for a stroll down the street. Let me quit lying. I'm about to go down and find something to eat. Trying to stop this smoking again. Damnit. 

Peace
--Free

P.S.: I'm sorry, but I had to come back for a minute after I viewed the Prince vid again. Everyone take note: This man is so damn confident. You have to be either be a balls to the wall headcase or just freaking delusional to be like Prince. That man is all of 5 foot 1 (or maybe 2) and pulls off sexy like nobody's business. I have a 7 year old nephew taller than Prince...

That's some kind of sexy. Prince wears heels and pulls it off. He wears eyeliner and pulls it off. He's the only man prettier than a woman that I'd want to be seen with.

~sigh~

Okay. Show's over.

G, The Coolness

Up too early again... Want to call someone so I'm not up alone, but the time is so crazy that even the Texas BFF is probably still asleep. Oh well. Guess I'll drag you all along while I go cruise the G.

This photo caught my eye & held it. This is too pretty to eat. I think I'd just shellac it and hang it on a wall (credit to hong duxuemin)

This next pic was on the G+ page of this lady. (She's a fave G-Plusser.)

Funny because it kind of goes with a post a bunch of us have been passing around as a compliment:

Meant only with love!

This just blew my weak-assed little mind. (The credit to this super-cool art blog . I just bookmarked it because I am going to be spending a lot of time over there.)

This made me smile & cringe at the same time. You have to know that I am so hooked on that stupid Angry Birds game. Not mature at all, but sometimes it just give my mind a safe place to go! LOL

Yeah. Well.

If you do get over to G+, there are some people you should make a point of checking out. Not that I don't have a million favorites, but here are a few for you:

Marija Falina - Aside from having a name I covet, she is a bad-to-bone artist. Her sketchbook work is freaking amazing. She contributes here. I can't even tell you how impressed I am with her stuff. I have the artistic talent of a drunk puppy & I "get" her, That's some boss ass talent. The only other artist I truly feel is Georgia O'Keeffe, who was all in your face with her big old flowers. (I swear I should take a class on Art For Slow People because it was only after about 10 years of loving Georgia's flowers that I started seeing all the vaginas in them. Do you know a friend had to point that shit out to me?) Anyway, check out Marija because in addition to he talent, she's a super-nice person.

Peter From - Interesting dude. Writes historical fact books, is an amazing photographer & just seems to be a pretty nice guy who teach other photogs a thing or two. What I really like about Peter is that he is a natural teacher. He obviously loves what he does & wants to spread the fever. Good for him.

Frasier Cain - (OK, first of all, I always imagine he has a brother named Niles & a housekeeper named Daphne...) I got hip to him when I was invited into his Science Circle. Yeah. Somebody fucked up & assumed I'd fit into that crowd! It has been good for me tho. Frasier & his folks are smart but not assholes. I learn so much their postings. Frasier also puts out Universe Today, and if you aren't impressed yet, well he has a freaking asteroid named after him. That's so pimp.

I hear baby D.J. trying to wake up. I might have someone really cute to keep me company in a moment. Hallelujah! I will log off before Deej really starts to wail. Let the Mommy & Daddy catch a few extra zzzz's... And you would too. I mean, just look at this cuteness right here...

The fam's current little rug rat. We're all in love.

Peace
--Free

Um, I'm Not Smoking! Really!

(Everyone else is going to have to ignore this post or just scratch their heads & go "Hmmm?" This is a direct message to someone in particular. And, no, Richard M., there's no need in emailing to ask. Not talking.)

Oh my damn! I had to resist the impulse to go back through the blog & delete stuff. I would have tried to clean up the language, but that would take about half the rest of my life & time borrowed. Today (of all days) I can't think clear enough to cover my tracks, so... Just go ahead & entertain yourself. I'll be over here, cringing!

(Forgot til my writing partner reminded me: we are using a specific blog to post stuff for the agent. I have to figure out how to add you as authorized to read. Go to this link & I will move some of the stuff over for now. I just now talked to my partner & he is loving this. He says that I have to be on my best behavior now. Uh, no sir. As far as what's on the blog, I'm going to ask forgiveness, not permission.)

The Cover of Love

April, May, June and July are tough for our family. Two of my older brothers celebrate birthdays this week. Born a year and a day apart. Chuck and Joe.

My mother passed away in the month of April on Joe's birthday.

My father was born in the month of May and died in the month of July shortly after my June birthday.

Mother's Day this year is on the 13th of May.

It took me until just now to figure out why I have these blues. Happens like this almost every single year.

I really miss my Mom. Being lucky to have super-amazing people in my life, I think about the different ways we (all people, men and women) can be a Mother/Father comfort to one another. Or a "covering." I will explain that later.

Think about it, mothers and fathers just love. That's really the main job. Everything else comes out of that love. They care for, teach, lead, discipline, comfort, protect, push, challenge, inspire, encourage, advise, listen & hear, and just love. As children, we get different measures and degrees of all those things from our parents as we go the the stages of life, but it is never not needed.

Once, when I was around 30 or so, I went through some minor life crisis (can't remember what exactly) and my mother was sitting and holding my head in her lap one day. I was just laying there, watching the news with her, feeling miserable about whatever I was going through. One of our good friends happened to drop by for a visit at the time. She saw me being miserable and my mother being comforting and instantly just "got it." She didn't think was weird in any way that I had gone to my mother right after work to just curl up on the couch and be tended to. (My brothers would have joked about my being a big ole grown baby, but they would just be joking.)

As my mother always told me, I never stopped being "her baby." All of us, even my big 6 foot 1 brothers (okay, and the short one, too!) never stopped being hers. (Understand this, my mother stood about 5 foot 7. My brothers would not only stand still but stoop so that Mom could smack on across the back of their head. I think the last time she probably did it on a regular basis was when they were around 16 or 17. I know because they all laugh and tell those stories now.)

My father was just as bad. He didn't "baby" the boys, but they were still his "kids." My sister & I? Now, we were still "his girls." (Up until 2 months before my father died, he sang to me. "My Girl," "You Are The Sunshine of My Life," and "Sugar Pie, Punkin Pie"... My dad sang his love for me.) I have a picture of Dad and my older sister. She is all married & grown, but you can see that, to him, she is still one of "his girls." (And I will tell you something that means nothing at all to me as far as our family love: my dad was my sister's step-dad. People who knew us for, literally, 40 yrs or more and did not know about that until my silly-assed stepmother mentioned it after my father's death. Witch.)

When both my parents were gone, my sister & I became "mothering" to each other. My brothers became "fathering."

In marriage, my parents believed that your spouse was supposed to be what some Christians call your "covering." In other words, the husband becomes the wife's comfort or her cover: covering her worries, fears, needs and dreams. The wife becomes the same for the husband, but under his submission. (I don't care what your ideas about feminism or power are. This is the way I was raised and I have no problem submitting in love to love. Love, not abuse. Been there, done that.)

Because I am now not "covered" (wasn't ever really covered in the first place by the soon-to-be-ex), I am covered by the men in my family (blood & chosen). I go to them for advice and strength, I go to them the way I would my father. Until I am loved and covered by a man I choose, I have that comfort of the family.

With my mother gone, I not only have my sister, but I have my mother's friends and my own best friends you hear me talk so much about. For some of my friends, I am sometimes "Mom." Me - Ooe of the most childish adults around!

Uh oh. Somehow I forgot where I was going with this post, if I was going anywhere at all. I think I just needed to be writing after I realized where my recent mood was coming from. Now I know.

Peace
--Free

For One of The BFFs (To Be In Love)

(Because "B" is in love & struggling with it right now, this is my favorite Gwendolyn Brooks' poem. Hey, B, like I was telling you, we can't understand love & should never, ever try to.)

To be in love 
Is to touch with a lighter hand. 
In yourself you stretch, you are well. 
You look at things 
Through his eyes. 
A cardinal is red. 
A sky is blue. 
Suddenly you know he knows too. 
He is not there but 
You know you are tasting together 
The winter, or a light spring weather. 
His hand to take your hand is overmuch. 
Too much to bear. 
You cannot look in his eyes 
Because your pulse must not say 
What must not be said. 
When he 
Shuts a door- 
Is not there_ 
Your arms are water. 
And you are free 
With a ghastly freedom. 
You are the beautiful half 
Of a golden hurt. 
You remember and covet his mouth 
To touch, to whisper on. 
Oh when to declare 
Is certain Death! 
Oh when to apprize 
Is to mesmerize, 
To see fall down, the Column of Gold, 
Into the commonest ash




B - Sleep good, sweets. It's been a rough few days, but you are going to be alright & I'm going to be alright. Alright? LOL


Peace
--Free


*Thanks to Poem Hunter.

Pre-Friday Groove (Music Only Post)

My G+ buddy Kevin and I have been on a music kick. He posts some of the best stuff over there. I'm just bored, housebound & trying to keep up. Enjoy.

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I won't admit to being "old," but I remember when most of the slow jams were a lot like this one (real life feelings without the x-rated lyrics. Oh yeah, and the artists could actually sing.)

There's a reason this stuff is called "baby-making" music, so be careful.

These guys were a discovery of Earth, Wind & Fire. That smooth harmonizing. Love it.

ONE of my first innocent kisses was to this song right here...

And to stay with Rufus for a moment,

Oh! This one here. Love it. I had a good friend when I was younger. She just about played the grooves off the LP (Yes, younger people, I know I am speaking the foriegn language of Yester-ancient...) My friend declared this the best make-out song ever. Hmm... it's one of them, but

THIS is my pick. It's so sweet and sad, isn't it? Okay, maybe not meant to be a make-out song, but you know what I mean. Damn. I wish I was in love! LOL

                                 (They looking a little... Goofy-happy here, huh? LOL)

And.... The cause of who knows HOW many babies. The man, the voice, the smoothness... Marvin Gaye. (OK, Marvin was a little bit whack-a-doo, but I'll be damned if he didn't just do the damn thing with this song):

I dare you to even think about liking someone & getting them somewhere with this playing. This song is pure trouble, I tell ya! LOL Better do like old-school Mamas used to say & put them knees together and duck-walk the hell out of there!

Okay. That's it for right now. I might be back if I get too bored. (The fam is still worried about me drivng. I feel fine; don't know what their problem is.) Since I am on the music kick, I'm going to go and do some dancing. Try to burn off some of this fat on my ass. For that, my playlist is set up as:

"Irresistible B**ch" (Prince)
"Welcome to the Jungle" (GNR)
"Lose Control" (Missy Elliot)
"Fame" (David Bowie)
"Dancing Machine" (Jackson 5) Quit laughing. Baby DJ loves this one!
"Lady Cab Driver" (Prince) cabdriver - cab driver? ~shrug~
"Rockafeller Skank" (Fatboy Slim)
"Just Fine" (Mary J. Blige) Somedays I really feel like this. Not today. Not yet, but maybe later.

Peace
--Free

Us & Our Purses...

I tend to step into & out of G+ like an alternate universe I visit (sometimes voluntarily, sometimes just pulled by the site's centrifugal force), but I usually have a decent reason for posting over there.


This is a post just made for the folks in the Plussiverse. 


First, to the ladies: Shespeaks.com (which I have told you all about time & time again...) is working with Pinterest.com in a giveaway. 1st prize - Kindle Fire. 2nd prize - a GoGo Squeeze. (I'm not gonna lie; I want the Kindle & don't know or care enough to Google what a GoGo Squeeze is. Maybe later I will look it up, but I am on fire - get it - for that Kindle.) 


**NOTE: After I started this post, I checked on the SheSpeaks site & discovered that you can be without a Pinterest account & still enter, but... (get ready to be pissed)... you have to log into FaceBook to alert SheSpeaks to your Pinterest vid or pics and share the links. Umm... NO! No freaking way am I dealing with that demon-site of FB. Don't know if it will work, but I sent my board link to SheSpeaks via their own site. So, looks like I'm out, but I sure hope that one of you gets lucky!**


The deal is that you make a video or a "board" of the contents of your purse. Cool, right? So get over there and go for it. I'll be happy for anyone who wins unless it's some rich chick who can easily afford buying the Kindle. 


Now, to the rest of you, I want to say that it was a bit interesting to even think about opening my purse for such public viewing. Kind of fun-interesting, weird-interesting and a little bit why-interesting. Just the kind of strange thing that made me want to go further. (Understand something: I am of limited entertainment currently & just a few hours ago I was having fun - I mean, BIG fun - teasing Kita Kat with a laser light. If I don't get out of this house and find other things to do, I will be playing with Baby D.J.'s toys...)


A-n-y-way...


What I got to thinking about is why not show something of myself. Maybe because I am too shy to be any other type of exhibitionist, this is a Trudy-way to have some innocent fun. Whatever. 


So, I have a photo tour of my current purse that I am going to share here. Doing the pics for that was such a boredom-buster, that I added a couple more items to show.


Depends on exactly how bored you guys are now. Will you be looking?

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First - this is the purse I was carrying when I did the Purse Peek

This is the purse I need to carry at all times:

...And one of the BFFs knew this because she gifted me this bag after watching me try to cram my life into purses that looked like this:

... Which is yet another gift. Do ya notice that I have friends who are not only just amazing people, but also have great taste & an amazing generosity? My friends family & I all believe in sharing & giving very openly. Because I love those guys, I have not resorted to hocking the Coach or Prada. No ma'am. I'll be on the street looking a hot, broke-ass mess before I do that. Those were given with love.

Now - like I said, I've been carrying the purse at the top. That is about to change fast. I didn't realize how much crap I had crammed in there until I did this Peek thing. Let me tell you, I'm going to be pulling out this one:

And tho I'm not crazy about the strap length, here's why it's gonna be in service soon:

Laser used to drive Kita Kat crazy

Has lasted 5yrs. Must stretch to last!!

$0.99 gloss bought in TX. Stretching this to last

One of my fave scents. 1yr old w/added sunscreen!

This pitiful, empty thing here...

Yeah. Tossing this bottom-of-the-purse ickiness!

 

I don't even use reg sugar - only brown or raw

Very essential for ideas & crap I have to note for memory

Lifesaver! AZ taught me SO well!
I add this to almost every cream I own.

                                           

      Why??? I have the other Mead planner.       
                         This is cuter tho                                     Eyedrops. MUST-have                                             The back-up to the patches: Nico gum

What is wrong with me? Why do I need all this stuff? I do need it, though. All of it. Matter of fact, I just now thought of a couple things I better add...


Peace
--Free