puzzling.

An open letter to my dog:

Dear Dog,

Please tell me what is so appealing about the bathroom trash can. I would  give you some kudos if you attempted to raid the kitchen trash can, because at least that one might have some small inkling of a delicious morsel. But no, I walk in the other day to find you contently gnawing on a Q-tip. I comanded you to “drop it” and you looked at me like I had just taken a plate of chicken fingers and then tauntingly ate them in front of you. Despite what you may think, ear wax is not delicious. I know this as fact.

This morning I walked into the bathroom only to find an empty box of epsom salt, band-aid box, and toilet paper roll ripped into shreds. And I know you swallowed some because I pick up your poop.

So from now on, please eat only dog food and I will try my best not to stock up on such tasty cotton balls.

Much love,

Mama

september to remember.

I don’t want to turn this into a Derby blog. DerbyBetty is doing a fine job of documenting the process for all of us. But I will say just this little bit: wheels are key. GOOD wheels. I put new wheels on my skates on Sunday. I tumbled right off the bat, in front of ARG veterans who had just finished their Sunday practice. Turns out that new wheels also have  coating on them that takes a few laps to wear off. I had cleaned them the night before, but obviously not good enough. So my feet slipped right out from under me.

It happened again last night at practice. I have my first battle wound. I can’t put any weight on my left butt cheek, it’s so tender and I’m sure it will be black and blue by this afternoon.

BUT. I finally got them broken in. They don’t slip now. They are amazing.

One of the things we will have to do at tryouts is skate at least 22 laps in 5 minutes. It’s a Derby lap, which is not as big as a full sized lap at a skating rink. This sounds super easy but I liken it to long distance running. It’s all about pacing yourself and not wearing out in the first 2 minutes. I have been working on this as much as possible in the last 2 1/2 weeks. I got myself really discouraged on Saturday at practice. It’s hard! It’s hard for me to break 21. I have made 22 laps and even 23 but I feel unsteady and I get tired easily.

Well thank god for Reba’s skates and thank god for new wheels. I did my 5 minute drill last night. And I knocked out 26 laps. TWENTY SIX. I felt like crying. It is the wheels, ladies. Anyone stumbling across this blog after searching for info on Roller Derby, please read this one word: WHEELS. I think that is the closest I will ever feel to flying.

In other non-Derby news, life has finally started to get back to “normal” (whatever the hell that actually is). My mom and step-dad have finalized the divorce and are on amazing terms which is an awesome outcome given the way the process started. I have California in 10 days (!!!), then tryouts, and then a wedding. A September to remember for sure!

where i’ve been.

It has been one long, emotional, soul-searching month for me. I’ll try to recap it as best I can. And I will TRY my hardest not to keep you all waiting this long again.

First, let me just say that I have some amazing things in the works. All of which I am excited and terrified about (in the good way).

Back around the first of the year, my boyfriend and I decided to take some time off in September. We had yet to go on a “real” vacation and had both been slack about planning anything. We figured that by taking a week off so far in advance, we would be motivated to GO SOMEWHERE. Well… we all know how that has turned out. We’re still on good terms, but the September vacation together is not happening. He pushed his vacation time out to 3 weeks and is going to Germany. I still had a week I needed to fill.

Around the same time as the break up, my bestie had just quit her horrible job. So glad for her, as it’s been driving her insane for the last 6 months. So I started putting the bug in her ear to take a vacation with me. We finally settled on California as we have good friends in San Fran and Santa Barbara. So in two weeks we will be in Cali! I am so excited. I haven’t been out of Atlanta in soooo long. And I can’t wait to see old friends and soak up some quality time in a convertible while driving down the coast line.

We decided since we wouldn’t be that far away from LA that we would go down for a day and do some sight seeing and try to get tickets to some sort of talk show. Bestie and I are drunk at the EARL one night when I get an email on my phone from our friend in Santa Barbara. She has gotten us all tickets to THE PRICE IS RIGHT. We both start screaming at the top of our lungs. You would have thought we were 13 and had just run into the Jonas Brothers. When one patron looked over to see what all the comotion was about, he locked eyes with me and I just blurted, “WE’RE GOING TO THE PRICE IS RIGHT!!!!” He was not as excited as I was and just rolled his eyes in the back of his head. We told people our good news all night. The waiter would come over to take our order and we’d tell him. We told strangers on the street. It was by far, the best night of my life.

Then tragedy.

About a week later we get another email from the same friend. She has been informed by CBS that The Price is Right has canceled all tapings for the week that we will be in Cali. Talk about heart break. I blame Drew Carey. BUT we got tickets to Chelsea Lately who is definitely prettier and funnier than Drew Carey but probably won’t give me a new car.

Regardless, I will be in mothereffin California so I don’t really care.

In other crazy random news… I’m in love. With Roller Derby. And I’m trying out next month. Is this a big WTF for some of you? I’ll start from the beginning.

I was “that kid” when I was little. I was on skates all the time. Even up into high school. One of my great friends and I used to take our hour lunch break from waiting tables when we were 17 and go roller skate round the empty school parking lot. And we did it all over her neighborhood too. We would FLY down hills with no pads and no fear. We would even try to jump curbs and dodge cars. Looking back on it now, I’m surprised we didn’t get hurt. We tried it all.

I worked with an Atlanta Rollergirl a few years back; Elle Beaux. She had just joined and I remember her telling me all these amazing stories about how fun it was and how awesome the girls were. And it has always been in the back of my mind since then. But things happen, life happens. At the time I worked with Elle, I was still in school. I was poor, working all the time and didn’t have much motivation to do anything other than drink in my free time. From there I got into a serious relationship. And then another one. And that’s nice and all and then things get comfortable and you don’t want to do anything else other than be with the person you are with. And I was totally FINE with that.

So as you all know, I’m recently single. I just moved into my new place, alone, around the first of August. And I realize now that I don’t have much that’s just mine as far as extracurricular activities go. I don’t have a niche. I want one. I longed for it. So I thought about derby again. And I jumped on the website two weeks ago just in time to see that try outs were going to be held at the end of September. I got myself logged into the website forum and the facebook group and started meeting other newbies who were setting up practices on their own time. I went out two days later, bought skates and took a terrifying lap around a skating rink for the first time in years. And it felt good. Really good.

In the past two weeks I have met AMAZING women who are so helpful and understanding and encouraging. I’ve gone from my cheap $50 pair of skates to hand-me-downs from Reba Smackentire that make me feel like I could skate forever. I am sore beyond belief but I can already feel myself getting stronger. I feel better, I feel happy, and the best part is that I feel like I belong here. Like this is my thing. My friends call it my new boyfriend because I talk about it all the time and spend 4 days a week at the skating rink.

I know I have work to do before tryouts next month, but for the first time in a long time I’m motivated to get there. I DON’T exercise, I hate it. But I LOVE this sport. I can’t imagine not doing it, so that’s enough for me to get my ass in gear.

So this is where I am right now; on the horizon of exciting new beginnings.

other things.

A few other small things that make me happy.

My dog’s teeth.
Bright Eyes – I’m Wide Awake, its Morning.
Firm hand shakes.
Making my own popsicles.
Flossing.

don’t read this one.

The cursor is blinking at me, waiting for me to write something. Anything. My brain hurts, and has throbbed almost consistently for what feels like years. It’s not a tumor. I guess my heart ran out of room and lent it’s extra ache to my temples.

Last month, with much thought and consent, I wrote a note with my (ex)boyfriend that was posted on facebook for all our friends to see. A public service announcement, if you will. I quickly took it down after about 6 hours. I don’t think it even got noticed. It’s for the best I guess. I’m rambling at this point.

This has been the hardest 6 weeks of my life. On top of 6 months that I thought couldn’t get any harder.

My mom’s divorce is final. I got notice first, excused myself from the office and stood on the tip top of an empty parking lot when I called her. I knew I would cry. She took it better than I thought. Of course, we knew it was coming. But now it’s here, it’s real. A tiny stamp on a sheet of paper changes everything. I wanted to hug her but I think she probably wanted to hug me more.

She knew what was going on with me long before I revealed to her that I had done it again. Mother’s intuition, I suppose. Either that, or my brother is a gossip.

I am trying very hard to look forward. It’s a strange concept for me. I love to look back. Nostalgia fuels me most of the time. I always want to remember how I feel at any given moment. I think that’s why I write. I want to make sure I get it down. Like at this moment, I feel lightly hopeful but I’m still welled with tears. I feel like on August 1st, I will go take a final exam in a subject I am trying so desperately to cram for. I feel so unprepared. Like no matter how hard I try to adjust to “single” there is still that other half sleeping below me and eating at my breakfast table. Our breakfast table. And then in 10 days, I will freak out because it’s multiple choice rather than essay. Or I will have forgotten my #2 pencil. But still, I look forward. Try to look forward. Not because it is easy, but it is less painful than looking back. The past is always there, somewhere. Lingering, waiting to latch onto you in song lyrics or vacation photos you thought were forgotten. All those things that were said and done will remain in your ear or replay themselves in a dream. Forward is what I make it, whether I’m prepared or not. Still sad, scary, and even panic inducing but it’s what I have at the moment. I will try to brave it well, with a freshly sharpened pencil.

it makes me happy.

Marcie would like to know 6 unimportant things that make me happy. I’ll see what I can come up with.

But, if they make you happy… aren’t they important? At least a little bit?

Ok, so here goes…..

Handwriting:
I love to write (in general) but I really like to write by hand. I also like my handwriting. And other peoples. Signatures too. I like to sign things. Even though I can’t wait to get rid of this last name, I love to loop my L’s. Maybe I’m biased, but I think the cursive L is the most beautiful in the alphabet.

Cilantro:
I’m drawn to it like a cat to catnip. I could eat it plain. I would sleep with it under my pillow. I won’t wash my hands after I cook with it so the smell stays as long as possible. I. LOVE. IT.

America’s Funniest Home Videos:
It has been a lame obsession of mine since I was little. No matter my mood, I will always laugh at a ball-shot or some old woman falling down. Even if I’ve seen it 10 times before. (*note: I am not this calloused in real life. If I see an old lady fall on the side walk, I will not point and laugh)

Pipe smoke:
Neither of my parents smoked pipes when I was younger, but a friend of my Dad’s did. He was a wonderful old man (much older than my parents) who always had a story to tell, and let my brother and I bang on his grand piano while he and my dad would talk politics or horse racing or whatever else was of interest. And he would sit there and puff his pipe for hours. I love that smell, it makes me feel little again.

Traffic:
This one is kind of catchy, as I don’t like traffic all the time. But it doesn’t bother me if I’m in no hurry to get any where. Actually, it’s kind of nice. It helps me decompress if I’m heading home from work. It’s nice to have a reason to have a little alone time every now and then.

Animals in clothing:
There is not much to explain about this one.

The French Language:
I can’t speak or understand a word of it. But I think it’s absolutely beautiful. I watched Man on Wire yesterday and spent most of the time listening, rather than reading subtitles.

Well, that’s 7. Maybe I’ll add more later

paint fumes.

I have all these blank canvases laying around. I didn’t want to put them away yet because I am intent on getting back in touch with my “artistic” side. I use that term loosely. Just ask Joy. I once painted a canvas when we lived together that was so awful she doesn’t let me live it down to this day. I’ve tried to give it away as a gag gift. I even hid it under Joy’s bed when I moved out. It still always manages to make it’s way back to me. I finally spray painted over it in white. Now it’s fresh and clean and ready for another horrific art attempt.

I painted one last night. Finger painted. I couldn’t find the brushes. It turned ok, I guess… Very green, and some yellow. Dustin named it “Zombie Skin”.

I went to wash my hands and of course, was stained green (even still this morning).  I did my normal bed time ritual before bed and turned in.

At 1:30 AM I shot straight up in a panic. I was panicked because I forgot to take my contacts out. This is weird on many levels. One, because I normally don’t sleep in my contacts but I have never freaked out if I do. But regardless, some how in my sleep state I must have been thinking that my head was about to explode. I RUN into the bathroom and start clawing at my eyes to get them out. After about 5 minutes of no success I look down to see them sitting on the counter.

I have done this before, but only after many, many shots of tequila. I can only blame it on Zombie Skin. And that’s sort of what I looked like this morning due to the left over paint on my fingertips. The same fingers I had been jabbing into my eyes.

So glad it’s Friday.

search.

I love that WordPress shows me what people search when they stumble across my blog.

“Poop”.

My life is now fulfilled.

bathroom etiquette.

I only have a few rules that I think should be unspoken when it comes to public restrooms. And there are a few women that work in my building that break them all.

First, I think that it is just common courtesy to leave some space between yourself and the person peeing beside you. It’s kind of like at the movie theater. No one goes in there and choses the seat right next to a stranger out of ALL the seats in the theater. That’s just weird! And creepy. With that said, the bathroom on my floor only has 3 stalls. So of course, when I go into the bathroom alone I pick either the first or last stall to make it less awkward for someone else who may come in there while I’m doing my business. I don’t think you should be allowed to choose the middle stall out of three empty ones, but I digress. There is a woman on my floor who does just that. The middle stall, EVERY TIME. It doesn’t matter if she is the first one in there or if you are already on either end, she picks the middle every time. To make it worse, I think she has tummy issues. She is in there a lot, and is always doing the number two. LOUDLY. Yes, every one poops and sometimes you just have to go. But do it in the last stall and try not to grunt so loud. It sounds like you’re birthing a rhino.

Second, I don’t want to be talked to when I’m in the stall. Especially by a stranger. If it’s a girlfriend of mine or a close co-worker and conversation has carried from the hallway into the bathroom, that’s fine. But I’m a nervous pee-er anyway so asking me about my plans for the weekend while I’m trying to hover over the pot is just not the way to go. But I think I may have fixed that problem.

There is a woman who usually makes small talk with me in the bathroom but it was normally saved for when we are washing our hands side by side at the sink. But recently, she has started striking up conversation while we are in our stalls. And it makes me very uncomfortable.

Today I was sitting in the office eating lunch. All of a sudden, I got the feeling that I was going to vomit. I don’t know if it was the food or what, but to save my co-workers the enjoyment of hearing me hurl I immediately got up and quickly walked to the bathroom. The whole 50 feet down the hall felt like forever. I think I even held my breath, fearing that any more movement would surely send my lunch all over the floor. I get to the bathroom only to find that Talky Stall Talker is there putting on her lipstick. She says hello and I smile and wave and quickly go into the first stall and brace myself. All of a sudden…

Talky Stall Talker: What do you think of this new air freshiner they put in here? I think it smells pretty goo-

Me: BLLALARRGHGHAGG (splash, splash, cough, cough).

Talky Stall Talker: …………….. (goes into last stall and stops talking).

I quickly compose myself and wash my hands and sprint back to my office (I feel much better too). Perhaps she won’t try to converse with me when I am trying to do my business now? Now if I could only figure out how to get the baby rhino to poop in the last stall, I’ll be all set.

defeat.

Jinx.

Sad but true.

The house was inspected on Saturday. It needs work. Work that requires patience and money, both of which we are running extremely low on. So with our heads hung, we terminated our contract. Oh my god. It’s starting allll over again. But I was warned, “Don’t get your hopes up” by many people. I did get my hopes up though, and that makes it even more depressing.

We both have been sort of a scattered mess the last few weeks so we’ve decided to put off the hunt for about a month. I just can’t wrap my head around doing this again. Yet. It will happen, I think we are both just totally discouraged right now. We were so close. And now we need some time to get back in the game. Not to mention I just won’t have any time this month. But that’s a good thing! I like to stay busy.

We are going to see mom this weekend. Just a super quick over night stay. My brother is coming too. So is the dog. It should make for an interesting 12 hours in the car.