Ok, here’s the deal. I REALLY like talking to new people, making new friends, and all that jazz…but, seriously. If I mention that Michigan is, like, the 1 state in the US as far as unemployment rating goes…I don’t want to hear you tell me how you know all about it because you watched Roger and Me. First things first, there are more than 3 cities/towns in Michigan. I know, I know. It’s hard to believe that Michigan consists of more than Detroit, Ann Arbor, and Flint. I know. I have a hard time believing it, too, and I *live* here. I mean, imagine my surprise when I discovered LANSING. Or KALAMAZOO. And, I mean, Adrian even has its’ own airport. I don’t know exactly what it’s used for, other than air shows and to teach people to fly at the JCC Aviation department, but I do see airplanes and gliders in the air around it from time to time.
Anyway, sarcasm aside, really, REALLY, I need you to look at the big picture. First things first….Roger and me was filmed in 1989. THAT WAS 19 FUCKING YEARS AGO. Flint has slightly grown since then. Notice I said slightly. Also, there are more companies in Michigan OTHER than General Motors. Yeah, I know, shocking. I mean, we’ve got Kellogg’s (Yes, the same company that makes Frosted Flakes), we’ve got Motown Records (yes, still), hell, we’ve even got SPORTS teams. We even have a women’s basketball team!! I don’t know if they’re any good, because I don’t fucking follow women’s pro basketball, but, really. I figure, if Google thought it was a good idea to set up shop in Ann Arbor, then Michigan can’t be all that bad of a place.
On top of that…the problem isn’t with big business all the time. Jobs in Michigan are moving elsewhere…to other states, to other countries. Why? Because our Governor, and past Governors, thought it a smashing fucking idea to tax the hell out of businesses. The amount of tax imposed on established and budding businesses alike are enough to make companies move out of here in SWARMS. Add to that the fact that our state government has NO idea what a budget IS, let alone how to stick to one, and we’re pretty much fucked until Granholm’s term is over.
Jobs all over the place, and not just in the auto industry are taking the hit. Sure, new cars are selling less. Michigan isn’t the only state with auto plants. Yes, agriculture is taking a huge hit. That’s why people started growing corn specifically for biofuel. It’s a budding industry, and, hey, research into alternative energies is awesome. (However, I think it’d be a better idea to start placing wind turbines in the Praries. Have you BEEN out there? Flat ground, tons of wind. No fucking brainer. It’s like putting a hydro-electric plant at the fork of two rivers. It makes sense in an ecological manner, an economical manner, and a physical [as in physics] manner. So, yeah, big duh.)
Anyway, I’m just ranting, and there’s not really anywhere to go with this other than…really, people. I don’t say “Hey, I’ve watched Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, so I know ALL about Savannah, GA.” 
Or, “Yeah, I watched The Grudge. All of Japan is TOTALLY like that. Especially for white people.” Why? BECAUSE BOTH STATEMENTS ARE TOTALLY FUCKING RETARDED.
Jeni out.
The single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life was give up my selfishness to become a mother. I know that not every mother does. It’s not my place to judge, but I do acknowledge it. I’ve done everything in my power to keep him safe, cared for, and mentally/creatively stimulated. I’ve drudged through sub-zero temperatures on public busses to take him to doctor’s appointments, sat through endless (seemingly) episodes of horribly dull t.v. shows and cartoons, read The Butter Battle Book so many times that I could probably recite it, and know the demeanor of every major character (and most minor characters) in the Veggie Tales lineup. Those things aren’t such a huge sacrifice. But, for someone that was as big of a partier and club kid as I was, giving up that life was.
When I found out that I was pregnant, and after his father decided that I HAD TO HAVE an abortion (obviously didn’t have one) or else, I quit EVERYTHING. As a matter of fact…I bawled for hours on the steps of Planned Parenthood (what? Free pregnancy testing done by people who won’t look at you like you’re satan’s spawn, or at the very least carrying it) because, the weekend earlier, I had been partying hard and snowboarding with some friends, and thought I’d seriously injured myself after I landed on a pile of logs, stomach first. I was absolutely convinced that there was going to be something wrong with the child that was growing inside of me. I mean, I was a heavy drinker, smoker, smoked so much pot that I was surprised I could open my eyes, and pretty much beat the hell out of my body on a regular basis.
So, in one fell swoop, I quit everything; Smoking, Drinking, pot, partying, boarding….hell, I cut out CAFFEINE. Those of you who know me will look at that last sentence and scratch your head. Because, really, who the hell DOES that? And, then, I ruined my health kick by…well, let’s just say that I had been attempting to be a vegetarian for about a year before this….and my first craving was for something dead and meaty. I HAD TO HAVE a double whopper, with NOTHING on it…bun on the side, please.
Anyway, I’m going way off track. When you have a kid…it’s a huge thing. Comittment doesn’t even begin to describe what it is. It’s not JUST a comittment. Your life is on hold. Sure, you have to live your life, or you go nuts, but the ID that is You is no longer as important as it was before you found out that you had this…this spark, this zygote, this *thing* inside you.
Up until this point, the hardest thing I’d done was to realize that I would never be able to protect him from everything in his life. I’ve always had that “protector” thing about me. It was hard to stop protecting my sister, Caitlin, as she’s grown up…I still want to protect her from everything, but she also drives me batshit most of the time. But, that’s what sisters (and favorite birthday presents ever) do. But my want to protect Brodie from everything has come from a different place. I’m *that* mom that WILL kick your ass if you do anything to my child. Kick your ass as in turn you into my new person-skin rug. Maybe it’s a good thing that I only have one child, because I’d probably be manic by now if I’d had more at this point.
My point of this blogness?
I miss him. He’s been living at my mom’s for the past 3 weeks because my truck is broke and I’m out of work. She lives in his school district, so it’s easier for him to live at my mom’s than anything else right now.
And, now…since work is scarce here…I’m looking elsewhere. I need to start fresh. I need to leave, I need to just….I need to find somewhere that has a job, really. Adrian doesn’t have any. I’ve applied at restaurants, bars, grocery stores, retail stores, computer repair shops, and everywhere else that had a “job opening” posted. I can’t very well take him with me while I traipse around the country looking for work. That, in itself, would be harder on him than anything…and for a kid with sensory issues…that would probably turn 4 years of work with him and erase it.
So…tomorrow, I take the big step of handing over temporary custody of my son…the love of my life…the one and only reason that I’m still here today…to my mother. This right here….this is the hardest thing I’ve ever thought of doing, and I don’t want to…but I know that it’s in his best interest. He needs stability. I have little or none of that. And, once I get it…I’ll have him again…we can snuggle every day and read, or watch silly movies, or even just talk. I mean, we had the MOST wonderful conversation today…he’s such a great kid…and I know, I’m biased, but my son is awesome. He really is.
And I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.
When you commission work by a tradesman, they do the work, regardless of whether you, in the end, pay them or not. It could be 3 hours worth of work, or 300.
Regardless, they’ve done the work.
Now, picture this. You’re working at…wherever you work. Let’s say that it’s an office. You come in to work, do your job, and you do it with a smile. At the end of the week, when your paycheck comes, you notice that you’ve been shorted for 2 days. Being prudent about your own financial situation, you ask WTPF Is going on…..and you get “Oh, well, there should have been more on that check.” Um, DUH.
When you hire someone to do a job, please PLEASE PLEASE, for the love of all that is holy and pure, don’t fucking back out on it. When I work for you, you get what you asked for. I usually put in EXTRA hours to get it done right, and I don’t charge for them. I should start. I should start sending collection agencies out after assholes who don’t pay me for work I do. But that costs ME fucking money.
I hate people. This is why I hole up in my house, and only leave when cool-ass people visit me or get married. This is why I could survive in a bunker in a hole in the ground.
I got this link via a MySpace bulletin….
Now, anyone who’s talked to me for any length of time about porn knows that it’s not the objectification of women that I hate about it. It’s usually the women in porn that make me hate it. It’s not that I hate that they’re skinny, or that they have bit boobs, or that their cha-cha’s are perfectly groomed, or that their vulvular areas are prettier than mine. They talk too damn much, they don’t act like normal women do during sex, and did I mention that they don’t fucking shut up? So, my enjoyment level goes down because I have to mute it and imagine the hot, sexy, animalian noises they’re making.
So, my problem is this. Porn today really sucks, mostly because…well, they’re not really having fun in sex the way the rest of us do…or, well, at least like I do. There are no longing, lustful looks. There’s definitely no laughing and giggling at the strange noises our bodies make. There’s no “ow, I can’t move my leg in that direction, scoot your ass over”.
Ever watch the early, black-and-white film era porn? It’s hillarious. It’s wild. Some of it is just downright stupid. But, it’s entertaining, it’s loving, and, you know, it’s a thousand times better than the shit today. I say that with as much objectivity as I can right this very minute. There’s not all this “Oh, yeah, harder, harder, fuck me!!! Ohhh!!!! I’m going to cum!!!!” bullshit that you know is 100% fake, and you can tell that the girl’s totally not into it by one minute detail, ladies, especially; You’ve made that face, ladies. The one where you just want him to get the hell off you so you can get back to your crossword puzzles. I’ve made that face once in the last month…and thank god that guy doesn’t call back 
Anyway, yeah. It’s the face. The real “OMG, you’re hitting it” face is contorted, and not exactly beautiful. It’s akward, it’s weird looking, and it’s…..god, I probably look scary as hell when I’m making the face.
Regardless….If you can, look up some of those old titles. And seriously watch them. It’s not about being a competitive consumer.
It’s about sex.
And sex….is a beautiful thing.
Ok. I never EVER gush about a Christmas present that I love OH SO MUCH that I have to gush about it. Until this year.
Ok, now, I may forget this sometimes, but my sisters know me well. VERY well. So well, in fact, that this Christmas, I got THE BEST present that isn’t breathing.
Well, second only to the year I got my guitar.
Oh, yes, Holly, she knows me well. Oh so well. I love her SO VERY VERY MUCH!!!! I mean, srsly, this is THE most awesome thing evah. I’ve been wearing it almost non-stop. (What? There are things that it gets in the way of!)
In fact, I’m wearing the sucker RIGHT NOW. I LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
Plus, it came in this pouch that had this on it :
This time next year, you will be fighting the Zombie Plageu, so enjoy this
holiday season while you can.
Srsly. I <3 Holly. She’s the best sister EVER EVER EVER.
Also, she bought me a “Baby Reaper” pendant (seriously, isn’t she the most awesome thing ever?), which I can’t find a picture of on Etsy. But, still.
So, the next time I bitch about how my family is f*cking retarded, please remind me that I Love Holly. No, really. I LOVE Holly.
Christmas is a holiday that I’m glad to wake up, look horrible, and watch the smiling face of my son as he opens boxes of things he’ll play with once and go back to his Legos. Well, I dunno. He might play with that toy cash register a lot. He’s a craaaaazy kid 
So, I sit here, with a sore throat, sipping my water, wanting coffee, and listening to Sarah McLachlan’s Wintersong….Her version of Greensleeves is my current favorite. And that’s my favorite Christmas song ever
I’ve been up since 5:30am, and I’ve already been asked twice if I’m sad that I woke up alone…
I’m not in a real (boyfriend-girlfriend or girlfriend-girlfriend) relationship with anyone….so, um, waking up Christmas morning next to them would….feel fake, at best. So, no, not into hooking up just to have someone to wake up to in the morning…why would anyone? Especially if it’s not something real? *sigh* I don’t know….I guess I just think differently….I mean, I know at least half a dozen of my friends who plan their year around getting a sig. other by Christmas. Why?
Here’s a few reasons why Christmas would be the last time I’d want a significant other to be around None of them are their fault, LOL.
First….I’m the 4th child in a family of 8 kids. One passed away 10 years ago in a car accident, but that still leaves us with 7. We’re all fucking insane. Plus, the youngest 2 kids are still in school (one in Elementary!!), and my mom saves the world a piece at a time by having foster kids.
Second….I tend to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Why? Because I usually do stupid shit. Like burning the garlic toast. Or that my PRESCRIPTION glasses are weaker than theirs. All it means is they’re fucking blind, and I wear mine so I don’t get headaches. That’s IT.
True story, this was an IM convo had last night, identities protected to protect the…innocent….
Me: I mean, why on EARTH would I leave at 9pm?
Me: I mean, Brodie’s so chipper when he’s up late.
Bestest Friend Evah: Before the fucking Glock came out.
See, she knows me. How she knows I have a Glock, I’ll never know.
So….I sit and wait for the morning to wear on, and for 8am to come…because, you know, I love spending so much time with my family. I honestly <3 them.
but only if it’s snowing and I don’t have to drive anywhere. I love sitting in silence, cup of cocoa or tea in my hand, watching the snow fall in…wherever, really. It’s something I started doing when I lived in the desert, in Escalante, UT.
We had this gorgeous bay window, overlooking a vast expanse of nothing but tumbleweeds, Joshua trees, dirt, and rock. The ground was horrible for growing anything other than dry plants, and there was a constant water shortage, so it never mattered anyway.
But, for the one week of the year where we’d get actual weather, it was beautiful. The sun would be hidden perfectly behind a sky full of nice, big, puffy clouds. The grey tinting to the world would be just enough to calm everything.
I remember things strangely vividly sometimes. I had a big, green copy of Gone With The Wind, and I was sitting on the cushions in the bay window. My mother had made me a cup of cocoa (if nothing else, the woman was an excellent cook….and made hers from scratch) to warm me up, and I snuggled in for a good read.
And, then…something I hadn’t thought I’d see, living do far south. Fluffy little snowflakes fell slowly to the ground…I was distracted enough to sit, mesmerized in the window, for about an hour…doing nothing but watch the snow fall.
Snow in the desert has a special beauty to it. There’s not a lot of grass…there is a lot of dirt….and the way the tawny and rust and white mix together…it’s a fascinating mix of colors…
So, while the snow fell this morning, I reminded myself of that moment…and I grabbed the nearest child (which happened to be Kadence, who spent the night last night)…
And we watched the snow.
