listen, i know i suck at blogging. it isn't probably going to get much better, seeing as how i have to read no less than hundreds of pages each week, combined with (and i counted) 110 pages worth of paper writing.
BUT.
i am reading simone de beauvoir's "the second sex" for class, well, i'm reading 300 pages of it for class, and i just came across this little quotsie:
"my earliest ideas of the superiority of the male were connected with urination. i felt aggrieved with nature because i lacked so useful and ornamental an organ. NO TEAPOT WITHOUT A SPOUT FELT SO FORLORN. it required no one to instil (sic) into me the theory of male predominance and superiority. constant proof was before me." (emphasis mine)
that's right. divinity school.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
thievery is stupider than shit
so awhile back, back when i was utterly incapable of coping with things like wiping my own ass, we had a little "incident" over at the flip house.
which is located in the HOOD. like not really in a transitional neighborhood so much. straight up, d-d-d-dirty style, domestic disturbance, crack head on the corner HOOD. whenever we tell people what street the house is on, if they are at all familiar with nashville, they consistently respond: "WOWEE. you are stupid. i just went there last week to buy crack."
whatever.
so anyways, i get a call one morning from julie, who has gone over to the flip house. i think i was in the middle of gnashing my teeth. she says: "somebody stole the bottom half of the bathroom window."
what?
the new window that we just put in? the bottom half of it? WHY WOULD ANYBODY DO THAT? ITS NOT LIKE YOU CAN TAKE IT TO YOUR CRACK DEALER AND TRADE IT FOR A ROCK. the bottom half of a new window is totally worthless to anybody except the person who owns the top half of the window. which, in this case, is me.
after further investigation, we found that the awesome person/persons who stole the bottom half of the window also stole anything in the house that could fit through the bathroom window and that could also be pawned without creating much suspicion. like a ladder. my dad's tiller (I LOVE WHEN I BORROW THINGS FROM PEOPLE AND THEN THEY GET STOLEN). a tile saw. etcetera, etcetera.
i probably should just cut and copy this post into the listing for the house (which goes on the house TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW), because obviously it will be a big selling point if people know that all of their pawnable shit will probably be stolen promptly after they move in.
i'm working on setting up booby traps. and if somebody steals the window boxes (which are cute as CRAP) that are bolted to the house, i'm just going to start standing guard outside the house, 24 hours a day, with mercy at my side and my semi-automatic in hand. because anybody who knows what is good for them would NOT fuck with my ferocious hound. holla.
which is located in the HOOD. like not really in a transitional neighborhood so much. straight up, d-d-d-dirty style, domestic disturbance, crack head on the corner HOOD. whenever we tell people what street the house is on, if they are at all familiar with nashville, they consistently respond: "WOWEE. you are stupid. i just went there last week to buy crack."
whatever.
so anyways, i get a call one morning from julie, who has gone over to the flip house. i think i was in the middle of gnashing my teeth. she says: "somebody stole the bottom half of the bathroom window."
what?
the new window that we just put in? the bottom half of it? WHY WOULD ANYBODY DO THAT? ITS NOT LIKE YOU CAN TAKE IT TO YOUR CRACK DEALER AND TRADE IT FOR A ROCK. the bottom half of a new window is totally worthless to anybody except the person who owns the top half of the window. which, in this case, is me.
after further investigation, we found that the awesome person/persons who stole the bottom half of the window also stole anything in the house that could fit through the bathroom window and that could also be pawned without creating much suspicion. like a ladder. my dad's tiller (I LOVE WHEN I BORROW THINGS FROM PEOPLE AND THEN THEY GET STOLEN). a tile saw. etcetera, etcetera.
i probably should just cut and copy this post into the listing for the house (which goes on the house TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW), because obviously it will be a big selling point if people know that all of their pawnable shit will probably be stolen promptly after they move in.
i'm working on setting up booby traps. and if somebody steals the window boxes (which are cute as CRAP) that are bolted to the house, i'm just going to start standing guard outside the house, 24 hours a day, with mercy at my side and my semi-automatic in hand. because anybody who knows what is good for them would NOT fuck with my ferocious hound. holla.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
because we are shut-ins
and she says, after only 4 hours of laying on the air mattress in the living room floor watching movies:
"do you think we're developing bed sores yet?"
"do you think we're developing bed sores yet?"
Monday, July 30, 2007
and we're off!
first order of business today, get emissions test and then get tags renewed. because they expire tomorrow. went to the testing station. failed the emissions test. because my check engine light is on. and i have to have proof that the repairs have been completed before they will pass me. naturally, this sent me into a tailspin that ends in hysterical sobbing (AFTER i leave the emissions place) -- clearly, a very reasonable and appropriate response to such a situation. right.
so i decide to change my next order of business, and instead of completing another task on my to-do list, i call the vanderbilt counseling center in complete desperation. because it is becoming increasingly clear to me and everyone else in my life that i am growing less and less able to cope with every day tasks. the lady who answered the phone was completely baffled, clearly, though i'm not sure what she was having a hard time with. that i am a full-time student? that i was a full-time student for the past 2 semesters, and will continue to be a full-time student in the fall? that i want to schedule an appointment? it confused her enough that she needed to take down my number so she can call me back. with any luck, SHE will be my therapist.
i have a session with a client in 50 minutes. i am lying in my bed with the curtains drawn, unshowered and not wearing work attire. let's all take bets on whether or not i can pull my shit together.
so i decide to change my next order of business, and instead of completing another task on my to-do list, i call the vanderbilt counseling center in complete desperation. because it is becoming increasingly clear to me and everyone else in my life that i am growing less and less able to cope with every day tasks. the lady who answered the phone was completely baffled, clearly, though i'm not sure what she was having a hard time with. that i am a full-time student? that i was a full-time student for the past 2 semesters, and will continue to be a full-time student in the fall? that i want to schedule an appointment? it confused her enough that she needed to take down my number so she can call me back. with any luck, SHE will be my therapist.
i have a session with a client in 50 minutes. i am lying in my bed with the curtains drawn, unshowered and not wearing work attire. let's all take bets on whether or not i can pull my shit together.
not really very ok
i keep going to bed, and thinking that the next day i will wake up and things will be better, and i will feel better, and i will do better and be better and be ok. it keeps not happening.
it is not an amazing sensation when you begin to realize that your antidepressants, they aren't working. i don't feel amazing. i try to hide under my little shell of cynical humor and sarcasm, and that isn't working anymore either.
none of it is working anymore.
it is not an amazing sensation when you begin to realize that your antidepressants, they aren't working. i don't feel amazing. i try to hide under my little shell of cynical humor and sarcasm, and that isn't working anymore either.
none of it is working anymore.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
proving that we share genetic similarities
let me preface this by explaining that the little real estate adventure that i like to call my own personal hell has gone a bit over budget. i'm not going to elaborate on what i mean by "a bit," because a few thousand dollars ago i just stopped running the quicken report that tells me how much money has been spent, year to date, on my own personal hell. sooo anyways, i've been pulling money from all corners of the earth (just a side note: my bank put a 5 day hold on a check from WACHOVIA, because it was out of state. because obviously, wachovia writes a lot of hot checks, and is not a reputable institution). last thursday night, i'm on the phone with acme daddy, to ensure that some of the money from the ends of the earth got put into the account from which i write lots of checks...like for instance the ones on friday mornings that pay people. here is the conversation between acme daddy and me:
me: i will look and be sure that deposit went through tonight, because if it didn't i'm going to be up the creek. i guess i'll just have to go sell my body.
dad: well, if you can make $4k in one night.....
me: yes?
dad: maybe you should flip tricks instead of houses.
honestly, he is probably right. it's very likely that i would be better at tricking. at least i know more about it.
me: i will look and be sure that deposit went through tonight, because if it didn't i'm going to be up the creek. i guess i'll just have to go sell my body.
dad: well, if you can make $4k in one night.....
me: yes?
dad: maybe you should flip tricks instead of houses.
honestly, he is probably right. it's very likely that i would be better at tricking. at least i know more about it.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
bounty
noticed that i've had a lot of grumpy posts lately. maybe i should steer clear of talking. here is one day's worth of cucumber harvest from the garden.
i recently discovered that the cucumber vine has taken over the little picket fence that divides our yard from the neighbors' yard, and there are cucumbers growing willy-nilly all over the place. vegetables, a-hoy!
i recently discovered that the cucumber vine has taken over the little picket fence that divides our yard from the neighbors' yard, and there are cucumbers growing willy-nilly all over the place. vegetables, a-hoy!
Saturday, July 14, 2007
hate and discontent
this week has been awful. i haven't blogged, because i would only blog about how shitty and miserable i feel about everything.
it is now saturday night, at 7:30. i am at work. i will be here until 11.
i just finished registering for traffic school online, because i got a speeding ticket. because i was under the impression, silly ole me, that the speed limit on the particular part of the interstate that i happened to be driving on was 70. oh, officer, its actually 55? and i was going 72? THAT'S AMAZING.
i've been to traffic school before. 4 hours in the evening, no biggie, right? so i register online, and i find that i am the lucky qualifier for EIGHT GODDAMN HOURS OF DEFENSIVE DRIVING SCHOOL. which equals either a tuesday AND thursday night from 5:30-9:30, or a SATURDAY from 9-5. and see, on tuesdays, because i love my life so much, i work second shift, from 3pm-11pm. thus making it not possible for me to go to driving school on tuesday night. so instead, i will spend an entire saturday learning about how the road is most slippery RIGHT AFTER it starts to rain.
ok, i can't write any more, because i have to go feel sorry for myself now. and play social worker. maybe when i get off work tonight, i'll get drunk. i hear that self-medicating with a depressant is AWESOMELY effective.
it is now saturday night, at 7:30. i am at work. i will be here until 11.
i just finished registering for traffic school online, because i got a speeding ticket. because i was under the impression, silly ole me, that the speed limit on the particular part of the interstate that i happened to be driving on was 70. oh, officer, its actually 55? and i was going 72? THAT'S AMAZING.
i've been to traffic school before. 4 hours in the evening, no biggie, right? so i register online, and i find that i am the lucky qualifier for EIGHT GODDAMN HOURS OF DEFENSIVE DRIVING SCHOOL. which equals either a tuesday AND thursday night from 5:30-9:30, or a SATURDAY from 9-5. and see, on tuesdays, because i love my life so much, i work second shift, from 3pm-11pm. thus making it not possible for me to go to driving school on tuesday night. so instead, i will spend an entire saturday learning about how the road is most slippery RIGHT AFTER it starts to rain.
ok, i can't write any more, because i have to go feel sorry for myself now. and play social worker. maybe when i get off work tonight, i'll get drunk. i hear that self-medicating with a depressant is AWESOMELY effective.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
crabby patty
working on the 4th of july puts me in the *best* mood you can even imagine. i'm posting from the hub of all dreariness and discontent, and i will try not to explode my grouchiness all over your face.
in other news, i learned this weekend that julie comes by her kleptomania honestly. one of her family members, whose identity i will not disclose, "accidentally" forgot to pay for a few items in the ole cart -- items that were obscured from the view of the cashier by a strategically placed oversize box. one of the items was a box of pink and purple golf balls, purchased for a certain 7 year old child in julie's family. these were charity golf balls, and a portion of the proceeds (when there are actually proceeds from people paying for the item) are donated to the breast cancer something or another. breast cancer. charity golf balls. STOLEN. julie and i can reserve a cozy little room right next door to us in the 2nd circle of hell, BECAUSE WE WILL SURELY HAVE NEIGHBORS. THAT STEAL BREAST CANCER GOLF BALLS. TO GIVE AS GIFTS TO SMALL CHILDREN.
let's see what else.
i cooked boneless beef short ribs. i marinated them in molasses glaze and my own throw-up.
happy independence day!
in other news, i learned this weekend that julie comes by her kleptomania honestly. one of her family members, whose identity i will not disclose, "accidentally" forgot to pay for a few items in the ole cart -- items that were obscured from the view of the cashier by a strategically placed oversize box. one of the items was a box of pink and purple golf balls, purchased for a certain 7 year old child in julie's family. these were charity golf balls, and a portion of the proceeds (when there are actually proceeds from people paying for the item) are donated to the breast cancer something or another. breast cancer. charity golf balls. STOLEN. julie and i can reserve a cozy little room right next door to us in the 2nd circle of hell, BECAUSE WE WILL SURELY HAVE NEIGHBORS. THAT STEAL BREAST CANCER GOLF BALLS. TO GIVE AS GIFTS TO SMALL CHILDREN.
let's see what else.
i cooked boneless beef short ribs. i marinated them in molasses glaze and my own throw-up.
happy independence day!
Friday, June 29, 2007
general updates
1. the dogs are still in the backyard. they aren't friendly with cats. billie has been thoroughly traumatized and yesterday she climbed, i swear to god, the tallest tree in nashville. we have called, and here for once i am not exaggerating, every single animal rescue organization in middle tennessee. nobody can help us. nobody has room. at least none of the no-kill shelters have room. i am totally at my wit's end and have no idea what to do. desperation and despair have simultaneously descended on me.
2. i rearranged the bedroom today in an attempt to shake aforementioned despair.
3. i've eaten two cherry tomatoes from my garden. they were both life changingly good.
4. watched "transamerica" tonight. liked it. while watching "transamerica," overheard someone unload their clip across the street. stifled the urge to duck and cover. come on over to the east sieeeeeede, there is plenty of room for everyone. everyone that packs heat, at least.
5. saturn is rising (not really).
6. still no progress on the feeding-family front. am considering ordering kfc. too fancy? maybe white castle.
7. the house progress is slow. we aren't really "flipping" the house, in the way you might flip a burger. we are turning it on a stunningly slow rotisserie. rotisserie that house.
8. decided to quadruple the dosage of my antidepressant. will keep you posted on how that works out for me, that is unless i suddenly become so delightfully happy that i can't be bothered to play on my computer because i'm too busy frolicking in fields of poppies and posies and pansies and peonies. and petunias.
2. i rearranged the bedroom today in an attempt to shake aforementioned despair.
3. i've eaten two cherry tomatoes from my garden. they were both life changingly good.
4. watched "transamerica" tonight. liked it. while watching "transamerica," overheard someone unload their clip across the street. stifled the urge to duck and cover. come on over to the east sieeeeeede, there is plenty of room for everyone. everyone that packs heat, at least.
5. saturn is rising (not really).
6. still no progress on the feeding-family front. am considering ordering kfc. too fancy? maybe white castle.
7. the house progress is slow. we aren't really "flipping" the house, in the way you might flip a burger. we are turning it on a stunningly slow rotisserie. rotisserie that house.
8. decided to quadruple the dosage of my antidepressant. will keep you posted on how that works out for me, that is unless i suddenly become so delightfully happy that i can't be bothered to play on my computer because i'm too busy frolicking in fields of poppies and posies and pansies and peonies. and petunias.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
all you big-hearted people out there, pay heed
i don't have the time or energy right now, and i'm too grumpy, to compose an amusing little anecdote about these dogs. i woke up on tuesday morning with an enormous hangover, and extra creatures in my backyard. i guess kind of like how people wake up with strangers in their bed? kind of like that. they are both girls, are friendly and healthy, and are attached at the hip. they are lovely, big, affectionate dogs. we cannot keep them. YOU should keep them. please, please, tell me if you want them or know someone who might.
family systems colliding
big events on the horizon.
this weekend, julie's parents plus grandma are paying us a little visit. family visits are always fun, beause our house is the size of a shoe box and we all get to sleep within 4 cm of each other so that when somebody inhales, or exhales, everybody can stay up to date on who is breathing and who is not.
add to this the fact that i thought it would be a smashing idea to invite my parents over for dinner on one of the nights that julie's parents+grandma will be here. "julie's parents, meet morgan's parents. they think we live a life of sin, and can't wait for morgan to outgrow this weird phase, meet a 'god-fearing man,' and have babies!" oh, the fun! oh oh oh, i almost forgot: "julie's grandma, welcome to morgan and julie's house, where it is excruciatingly clear that julie and morgan share a bed, like any other 'friends' would do!" just thinking about the awkwardness that is sure to ensue makes my eyes sparkle with sheer delight. it also makes me want to drink, heavily.
naturally, i have already started obsessing about what to serve for dinner. this should be SO easy to figure out...mix a few carnivores with some die-hard-meat-and-potatoes-folks, throw in a couple of cases of ibs, and some diverticulitis, and then put a vegan in the kitchen, and what do you get? I DON'T KNOW EITHER. naturally, i consulted rachael ray, and thought i would perhaps use her suggested 4th of july menu, with a little modification (and with me not really eating anything):
glazed grilled chicken breasts with pineapple
balsamic green bean and potato salad
grilled corn with parmesan butter
red fruit tart
i ran it by julie, and she says: "i don't know, i think its a little too fancy for my parents. maybe we could just do ribs and potato salad?"
ribs?
potato salad?
i don't even know what you're talking about.
stay tuned for more exciting updates as my social anxiety grows increasingly debilitating!
this weekend, julie's parents plus grandma are paying us a little visit. family visits are always fun, beause our house is the size of a shoe box and we all get to sleep within 4 cm of each other so that when somebody inhales, or exhales, everybody can stay up to date on who is breathing and who is not.
add to this the fact that i thought it would be a smashing idea to invite my parents over for dinner on one of the nights that julie's parents+grandma will be here. "julie's parents, meet morgan's parents. they think we live a life of sin, and can't wait for morgan to outgrow this weird phase, meet a 'god-fearing man,' and have babies!" oh, the fun! oh oh oh, i almost forgot: "julie's grandma, welcome to morgan and julie's house, where it is excruciatingly clear that julie and morgan share a bed, like any other 'friends' would do!" just thinking about the awkwardness that is sure to ensue makes my eyes sparkle with sheer delight. it also makes me want to drink, heavily.
naturally, i have already started obsessing about what to serve for dinner. this should be SO easy to figure out...mix a few carnivores with some die-hard-meat-and-potatoes-folks, throw in a couple of cases of ibs, and some diverticulitis, and then put a vegan in the kitchen, and what do you get? I DON'T KNOW EITHER. naturally, i consulted rachael ray, and thought i would perhaps use her suggested 4th of july menu, with a little modification (and with me not really eating anything):
glazed grilled chicken breasts with pineapple
balsamic green bean and potato salad
grilled corn with parmesan butter
red fruit tart
i ran it by julie, and she says: "i don't know, i think its a little too fancy for my parents. maybe we could just do ribs and potato salad?"
ribs?
potato salad?
i don't even know what you're talking about.
stay tuned for more exciting updates as my social anxiety grows increasingly debilitating!
Monday, June 25, 2007
REALLY BAD DOG
let me preface this by saying that julie, to my extreme discontent and disgruntlement, gives mercy people food. mercy's favorite people food is watermelon.
this past weekend i bought a seedless yellow watermelon at the farmer's market. and it is up there with top 5 best watermelons i've ever had. so today, we are sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating pieces of watermelon. i take a piece out of the tupperware, and before i can even get it into my MOUTH, mercy leaps from her spot on the couch and SNATCHES IT OUT OF MY HAND.
morgan: GASP!!!
julie: jesus christ, you would think somebody just stole your virginity.
(just want to say, though, that i snatched the watermelon right out of her grubby little mouth, and i ate it. that little bitch.)
this past weekend i bought a seedless yellow watermelon at the farmer's market. and it is up there with top 5 best watermelons i've ever had. so today, we are sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating pieces of watermelon. i take a piece out of the tupperware, and before i can even get it into my MOUTH, mercy leaps from her spot on the couch and SNATCHES IT OUT OF MY HAND.
morgan: GASP!!!
julie: jesus christ, you would think somebody just stole your virginity.
(just want to say, though, that i snatched the watermelon right out of her grubby little mouth, and i ate it. that little bitch.)
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
RACHAEL RAY
first, i will need to admit that i have been becoming weary in my little vegan culinary world. i have several cookbooks that i lurv, but i have had them for awhile, and have fallen into a bit of a lentil rut. there are a few good vegan cookbooks, but a lot of them suck, and are based on the assumption that if you are a vegan, you also must not like anything with flavor, and also must be a rabbit. sometimes i get a little gloomy when i go to the cookbook section in the bookstore (as i tend to do, for long amounts of time) because my section is tiny, and then there are shelves and shelves of the most beautiful and enticing and wonderful cookbooks overflowing with dairy, and dairy, and some dairy with eggs, and some dairy with meat, and some more dairy. and dairy, did i say dairy? they have the dairy. oh, and the meat too.
now for my next confession. i have a little friend (well, i use "friend" loosely here, because really what i mean is MORTAL ENEMY) who i like to call my cheese monkey. cheese monkey eats cheese, and only cheese, and a lot of cheese. cheese monkey scoffs at soy cheese, and any other product that tries to masquerade as cheese. sometimes, cheese monkey will lie dormant for months and months without causing any kind of ruckus. those are the good times. the happy times. the normal pooping times. but then cheese monkey starts demanding things. when i say things, i mean cheese. every and any type of cheese. if cheese monkey's demands are not met, cheese monkey throws tantrums of such epic proportion i dare not try to limit them to the tiny parameters of my inadequate vocabulary. eventually, the cheese monkey gets what the cheese monkey wants.
BUT, my friends, the plot thickens. i have been successful enough in repressing the cheese monkey and keeping it chained in its cold lonely cell that my body has forgotten what to do with cheese. over the course of my two and a half years of fairly strict veganism, i have become what i believe people like to call "lactose intolerant." so, when i am defeated by the cheese monkey i must do penance for my sins in the form of bloating, extreme discomfort, and other unmentionables.
recently i was at the house of a dear friend, and i noted a magazine nearby: "every day with rachael ray." i've never really been much into rachael ray, primarily because i can't eat the majority of the food from her cookbooks, on her show, etc. but i have fallen crazily and hopelessly in love with this magazine. i can find a fair amount of recipes that can at least be adapted for my gastrointestinal comfort, and the rest i just have to feed to other people who come eat at my house. AND most of the recipes have a wine suggestion, which prevents me from wandering stupidly around the wine store completely puzzled about what wine would best complement stuffed portobellos with bread salad. last week i made a free form red fruit tart (from the magazine, naturally) that was CRAZY amazing. in the past, i have cried more than one time (go ahead and laugh) trying to make a flaky crust. my frustration with flaky crusts actually led me to a meltdown on christmas eve in which i swore i wasn't going to go to christmas with my family because i had FAILED AT MAKING A PERFECT PIE CRUST. well, not the case with the tart. the crust was effortlessly, marvelously, meltingly flaky. plus, it wasn't salted with my own tears. i will admit, sometimes rachael ray and cheese monkey appear to be in cahoots with each other (like, for instance, a couple of weeks ago when i apparently TOTALLY LOST MY MIND and decided it would be a good plan to eat a pressed manchego cheese sandwich with roasted red peppers. CHEESE SANDWICH? i will spare the gory details of the fallout.) so anyways. say what you will about rachael, because i have said it too. and then try the recipes from that damn magazine and start working on the SHRINE to her that you will surely want to construct in your kitchen.
now for my next confession. i have a little friend (well, i use "friend" loosely here, because really what i mean is MORTAL ENEMY) who i like to call my cheese monkey. cheese monkey eats cheese, and only cheese, and a lot of cheese. cheese monkey scoffs at soy cheese, and any other product that tries to masquerade as cheese. sometimes, cheese monkey will lie dormant for months and months without causing any kind of ruckus. those are the good times. the happy times. the normal pooping times. but then cheese monkey starts demanding things. when i say things, i mean cheese. every and any type of cheese. if cheese monkey's demands are not met, cheese monkey throws tantrums of such epic proportion i dare not try to limit them to the tiny parameters of my inadequate vocabulary. eventually, the cheese monkey gets what the cheese monkey wants.
BUT, my friends, the plot thickens. i have been successful enough in repressing the cheese monkey and keeping it chained in its cold lonely cell that my body has forgotten what to do with cheese. over the course of my two and a half years of fairly strict veganism, i have become what i believe people like to call "lactose intolerant." so, when i am defeated by the cheese monkey i must do penance for my sins in the form of bloating, extreme discomfort, and other unmentionables.
recently i was at the house of a dear friend, and i noted a magazine nearby: "every day with rachael ray." i've never really been much into rachael ray, primarily because i can't eat the majority of the food from her cookbooks, on her show, etc. but i have fallen crazily and hopelessly in love with this magazine. i can find a fair amount of recipes that can at least be adapted for my gastrointestinal comfort, and the rest i just have to feed to other people who come eat at my house. AND most of the recipes have a wine suggestion, which prevents me from wandering stupidly around the wine store completely puzzled about what wine would best complement stuffed portobellos with bread salad. last week i made a free form red fruit tart (from the magazine, naturally) that was CRAZY amazing. in the past, i have cried more than one time (go ahead and laugh) trying to make a flaky crust. my frustration with flaky crusts actually led me to a meltdown on christmas eve in which i swore i wasn't going to go to christmas with my family because i had FAILED AT MAKING A PERFECT PIE CRUST. well, not the case with the tart. the crust was effortlessly, marvelously, meltingly flaky. plus, it wasn't salted with my own tears. i will admit, sometimes rachael ray and cheese monkey appear to be in cahoots with each other (like, for instance, a couple of weeks ago when i apparently TOTALLY LOST MY MIND and decided it would be a good plan to eat a pressed manchego cheese sandwich with roasted red peppers. CHEESE SANDWICH? i will spare the gory details of the fallout.) so anyways. say what you will about rachael, because i have said it too. and then try the recipes from that damn magazine and start working on the SHRINE to her that you will surely want to construct in your kitchen.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
homo depot
i used to make trips to home depot on the weekends to buy things like mulch, and flowers, and pretty things to play with. those days are a distant memory that i long for, in the same way one might long for the golden days of youth. nowadays (i just turned 88, right then when i used that word) i go to home depot for lumber. drywall (do you know how much drywall weighs? i could just as easily have bought and carried sheets of steel to hang on the walls). i specialize in buying the NOT fun things these days. so i have to make my own fun out of the home depot trips, because i'm certainly not going to get any pleasure out of poring over sticks of wood.
the day before yesterday, we stopped at la hacienda on nolensville road to grab a bite to eat before going to spend the whole rest of the evening at the depot. lo and behold -- it was happy hour at la hacienda! 2 for 1 margaritas! so, i got plowed, and then julie took me shopping to pick out a bathtub. kohler devonshire, would you like to have a margarita with me? i thought so.
yesterday, we needed to buy caulk. now see, that word, it is funny. say it a little quickly and don't clearly pronounce the "l", and you have infinity amount of childish sex jokes at your fingertips. caulk -- at your fingertips! yesterday i wasn't plowed at home depot, but i was sure to speak loudly about caulk in such a way that many many heads turned. here are some of my favorite caulk jokes:
"we have spent the whole day trying to get caulk off! it takes a long time because the caulk, it is old."
while in the caulk aisle, talking to another man shopping for caulk: "there are so many kinds of caulk! each one is a little different, but they all serve the same purpose."
"some caulk fills small holes, other caulk fills large holes."
"exercise great caution when using a caulk gun, because if you don't handle it just right it will explode all over the place."
i know, i have the maturity and sense of humor of a 13 year old boy. whatever.
you liked it. you like caulk.
the day before yesterday, we stopped at la hacienda on nolensville road to grab a bite to eat before going to spend the whole rest of the evening at the depot. lo and behold -- it was happy hour at la hacienda! 2 for 1 margaritas! so, i got plowed, and then julie took me shopping to pick out a bathtub. kohler devonshire, would you like to have a margarita with me? i thought so.
yesterday, we needed to buy caulk. now see, that word, it is funny. say it a little quickly and don't clearly pronounce the "l", and you have infinity amount of childish sex jokes at your fingertips. caulk -- at your fingertips! yesterday i wasn't plowed at home depot, but i was sure to speak loudly about caulk in such a way that many many heads turned. here are some of my favorite caulk jokes:
"we have spent the whole day trying to get caulk off! it takes a long time because the caulk, it is old."
while in the caulk aisle, talking to another man shopping for caulk: "there are so many kinds of caulk! each one is a little different, but they all serve the same purpose."
"some caulk fills small holes, other caulk fills large holes."
"exercise great caution when using a caulk gun, because if you don't handle it just right it will explode all over the place."
i know, i have the maturity and sense of humor of a 13 year old boy. whatever.
you liked it. you like caulk.
Friday, June 15, 2007
morgan's friday quotsies
(in response to mr. allstate, re: flip property):
"you can't deny me fucking home owner's insurance just because my house is ghetto!"
"you can't deny me fucking home owner's insurance just because my house is ghetto!"
Thursday, June 14, 2007
how does my garden grow?
this is the first year i've had my very own garden, with the real dirt and the things that grow in it. last year after we moved in we were able to plant some flowers, but it was too late in the season to plant vegetables. but THIS year, oh the gardening, it did happen. with the vegetables. i planted lettuce, green onions, cucumbers, LOTS of green bell peppers (i don't like them that much, but they came in a little six pack, and it seemed silly not to plant them. if you need green bell peppers, please contact me when they ripen.), red bell peppers (THOSE i do like, and they were not sold in a six pack. do not contact me when they ripen, because i will eat them all myself.), cucumbers, four different kinds of tomatoes, basil, cilantro, rosemary, and lavender. YAY FOR MY GARDEN!!!
my two favorite gardening events have been:
1. when the lettuce started to sprout. little wee tiny heads of leaf lettuce all in a row! from seeds! that i planted! magic.
2. this week, when i peeked under the GIGANTIC cucumber vines only to discover that there is a whole cucumber community thriving under those big fuzzy leaves, with some cucumbers very tiny and some big enough to pick! and eat! with the mouth! we have harvested three cucumbers, and they are lovely and perfect and all i could ever ask for. plus, they don't have that bitter awful tasting wax on them like the ones from the grocery store.
i'm also pretty excited about the cherry tomatoes that i've spotted....very small and green, but VERY promising. all of this wonderment kind of makes me wish i had planted a few other things....i poked my head over the fence (well, the fence isn't that tall to really require that much of a head poke, i can pretty well see over it just fine with no head poke at all) to look at the neighbor's garden, and they are growing broccoli and those heads of broccoli are about the cutest dern things i've ever seen. also they have pole beans. but no cucumbers. or lettuce. but if you combine the produce from both gardens -- behold!
i'm serious about the green peppers. prepare to contact me.
my two favorite gardening events have been:
1. when the lettuce started to sprout. little wee tiny heads of leaf lettuce all in a row! from seeds! that i planted! magic.
2. this week, when i peeked under the GIGANTIC cucumber vines only to discover that there is a whole cucumber community thriving under those big fuzzy leaves, with some cucumbers very tiny and some big enough to pick! and eat! with the mouth! we have harvested three cucumbers, and they are lovely and perfect and all i could ever ask for. plus, they don't have that bitter awful tasting wax on them like the ones from the grocery store.
i'm also pretty excited about the cherry tomatoes that i've spotted....very small and green, but VERY promising. all of this wonderment kind of makes me wish i had planted a few other things....i poked my head over the fence (well, the fence isn't that tall to really require that much of a head poke, i can pretty well see over it just fine with no head poke at all) to look at the neighbor's garden, and they are growing broccoli and those heads of broccoli are about the cutest dern things i've ever seen. also they have pole beans. but no cucumbers. or lettuce. but if you combine the produce from both gardens -- behold!
i'm serious about the green peppers. prepare to contact me.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
house flipping/flopping
as of yet, i haven't really addressed (via blog, that is) pretty much the most major thing that is happening in my life (and in my bank account) currently. see, contrary to what a lot of people think, social workers don't make a lot of money. i have (mostly) phased out sex work and drug dealing as sources of additional income, and so naturally the next thing i turned to was real estate. so i bought a house. another one. a small one, so wee. so cheap! so run down and in need of love.
makes sense, doesn't it, that if you are a little tight on money you would pick up a second mortgage on a second house? perfect sense. money management plus morgan equals riches galore!
it has been about a month since i closed, and oh the demolition, there has been a lot of it. but - great progress has been made! and only one dead bird has been found! it fell out of the attic when we ripped out the ceiling in the living room. and speaking of ripping out the ceiling in the living room (and the kitchen) -- all those things people say about fiberglass insulation making you itch -- they are true. horrifically, monstrously true.
so anyways, i'm going to blog more, i SWEAR i am, and i'm going to blog about house flipping because it is funny and ridiculous. the hvac installation was completed yesterday, and i wish to god i had taken a picture of the crew that did the installation. i'm trying to think what i could write to describe them that wouldn't be offensive and wouldn't result in someone calling me smug or arrogant or whatever else, and i can't think of anything. they did a good job. for a good price. with a small gene pool from which to work.
makes sense, doesn't it, that if you are a little tight on money you would pick up a second mortgage on a second house? perfect sense. money management plus morgan equals riches galore!
it has been about a month since i closed, and oh the demolition, there has been a lot of it. but - great progress has been made! and only one dead bird has been found! it fell out of the attic when we ripped out the ceiling in the living room. and speaking of ripping out the ceiling in the living room (and the kitchen) -- all those things people say about fiberglass insulation making you itch -- they are true. horrifically, monstrously true.
so anyways, i'm going to blog more, i SWEAR i am, and i'm going to blog about house flipping because it is funny and ridiculous. the hvac installation was completed yesterday, and i wish to god i had taken a picture of the crew that did the installation. i'm trying to think what i could write to describe them that wouldn't be offensive and wouldn't result in someone calling me smug or arrogant or whatever else, and i can't think of anything. they did a good job. for a good price. with a small gene pool from which to work.
Monday, June 11, 2007
drama mama
not last week, but the week BEFORE last week i had a bit of a crisis which is still even now making my life more difficult than it needs to be.
so i have this client, and she is struggling. with the money. and with not having any of it. and right now she is on crutches. we had a session, and i took her a couple of places and at one of those places she got a donation of an air conditioner, which i lifted into my car by myself, narrowly avoiding crushing every bone in my body (but that isn't the crisis). we get back to her apartment, and she wants me to go upstairs and get her shopping cart out of her apartment (i know, everybody has a shopping cart, right? i have five of them in my living room for occasions just such as this one). i leave her in the car, and go get the shopping cart. it takes me quite some time. i come back, load the air conditioner into the shopping cart, send her on her way. then it occurs to me to check my purse to be sure everything that should be in the purse is in the purse. and everything is.
except my wallet. the wallet that has my life in it.
so i call julie.
julie: hello?
morgan: I THINK MY CLIENT JUST STOLE MY WALLET.
julie: oh dear.
morgan: I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
julie: let me look around here and make sure you didn't leave it.
***time passes***
julie: i've looked everywhere. it isn't here. i searched the whole house.
morgan: GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
so i call my supervisor, for some advice on how to navigate this somewhat tricky little situation. i go back to my client's apartment, and this time around i'm all, "oh, i think i might have dropped my wallet up here." blah blah blah, she says she hasn't seen it, i narrow my eyes suspiciously and growl, i leave her apartment and commence sobbing while i call both banks, cancel both debit cards, put stop payments on all my checks, file a police report, try to run myself over. i decide to give her one more chance to confess before the swat team arrives to knock down her door. i say: "are you sure you don't have my wallet? please tell me if you do. all the cards are cancelled and there is no cash, so it won't do you any good. give me back my wallet, you thief." (not really that last part, but i might as well have said that).
so back in the car i go, talking to julie on the phone about how dreadfully horrendously terrible it is going to be to replace everything in my wallet and what a tremendous pain in the ass it is going to be until i get my debit cards and checks in the mail (what am i supopsed to do during those 7 business days, bank man? write people i.o.u's? barter? STEAL?), and then julie says: "oh! i found your wallet!"
now clearly, i am overjoyed that my wallet was not stolen. and that conversation when i apologized to my client for practically throwing her in the clink with my own hands, well that conversation was SO much fun. and, since it has been 9 business days and i STILL don't have checks from one of my banks, the bank that has the account that i happen to be using to remodel a house, i'm pretty sure the government is going to investigate me because i keep going to the bank to withdraw very large sums of cash. like large enough to, say, install an hvac. or buy a lot of drugs.
oh, and two of those checks that i put stop payments on? i had already written them. it's pretty likely that i'm going to win some kind of customer appreciation award for awesomeness from the electric company. i hear they LOVE it when people pay their bills with hot checks.
so i have this client, and she is struggling. with the money. and with not having any of it. and right now she is on crutches. we had a session, and i took her a couple of places and at one of those places she got a donation of an air conditioner, which i lifted into my car by myself, narrowly avoiding crushing every bone in my body (but that isn't the crisis). we get back to her apartment, and she wants me to go upstairs and get her shopping cart out of her apartment (i know, everybody has a shopping cart, right? i have five of them in my living room for occasions just such as this one). i leave her in the car, and go get the shopping cart. it takes me quite some time. i come back, load the air conditioner into the shopping cart, send her on her way. then it occurs to me to check my purse to be sure everything that should be in the purse is in the purse. and everything is.
except my wallet. the wallet that has my life in it.
so i call julie.
julie: hello?
morgan: I THINK MY CLIENT JUST STOLE MY WALLET.
julie: oh dear.
morgan: I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
julie: let me look around here and make sure you didn't leave it.
***time passes***
julie: i've looked everywhere. it isn't here. i searched the whole house.
morgan: GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
so i call my supervisor, for some advice on how to navigate this somewhat tricky little situation. i go back to my client's apartment, and this time around i'm all, "oh, i think i might have dropped my wallet up here." blah blah blah, she says she hasn't seen it, i narrow my eyes suspiciously and growl, i leave her apartment and commence sobbing while i call both banks, cancel both debit cards, put stop payments on all my checks, file a police report, try to run myself over. i decide to give her one more chance to confess before the swat team arrives to knock down her door. i say: "are you sure you don't have my wallet? please tell me if you do. all the cards are cancelled and there is no cash, so it won't do you any good. give me back my wallet, you thief." (not really that last part, but i might as well have said that).
so back in the car i go, talking to julie on the phone about how dreadfully horrendously terrible it is going to be to replace everything in my wallet and what a tremendous pain in the ass it is going to be until i get my debit cards and checks in the mail (what am i supopsed to do during those 7 business days, bank man? write people i.o.u's? barter? STEAL?), and then julie says: "oh! i found your wallet!"
now clearly, i am overjoyed that my wallet was not stolen. and that conversation when i apologized to my client for practically throwing her in the clink with my own hands, well that conversation was SO much fun. and, since it has been 9 business days and i STILL don't have checks from one of my banks, the bank that has the account that i happen to be using to remodel a house, i'm pretty sure the government is going to investigate me because i keep going to the bank to withdraw very large sums of cash. like large enough to, say, install an hvac. or buy a lot of drugs.
oh, and two of those checks that i put stop payments on? i had already written them. it's pretty likely that i'm going to win some kind of customer appreciation award for awesomeness from the electric company. i hear they LOVE it when people pay their bills with hot checks.
Monday, May 07, 2007
it's summer time and the livin' is easy
guess who is done with school!? done! DONE! DONE! well, when i say done, i mean done (oh god, i just went to write "done" and i spelled it "dun." further evidence that graduate school is actually making me dumber), done in the sense that i have until august to squeeze in enough sanity to last me through another school year. do you think i will succeed?
i thought this was going to be the summer of the mojito, and i was all set to grow bushes and bushes of mint and rows of rum trees, but i had a torrid love affair last night with "summer beer." go ahead and get ready to make your gross face when i tell you what is in it, and then after that get ready to tell me how it has changed your life after you try it. because you will try it. and it will change you. forever. and for the better.
summer beer:
12 oz pink lemonade concentrate
12 oz vodka
12 oz water
1 can/bottle beer
PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. you should know that summer beer goes down real easy, as if you were drinking, say, lemonade. the kind of lemonade which is prone to being drunk quickly. however, if you will note, these are rather strong drinks. the kind that will put hair on your chest. pink, fruity, fluffy hair.
go ahead and have your cookout, and make, oh, 10 batches of this. last night we actually christened summer beer by a different name: "it's summer time and the livin' is easy." as in, "hey honey, will you mix up another batch of it's summer time and the livin' is easy," or, "while you're in there, bring me a glass of it's summer time and the livin' is easy."
at least i have something to keep me occupied while my mint grows. really, really occupied. i'm sorry, i can't work today, i'm too busy developing alcoholism. KIDDING. i kid.
i thought this was going to be the summer of the mojito, and i was all set to grow bushes and bushes of mint and rows of rum trees, but i had a torrid love affair last night with "summer beer." go ahead and get ready to make your gross face when i tell you what is in it, and then after that get ready to tell me how it has changed your life after you try it. because you will try it. and it will change you. forever. and for the better.
summer beer:
12 oz pink lemonade concentrate
12 oz vodka
12 oz water
1 can/bottle beer
PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. you should know that summer beer goes down real easy, as if you were drinking, say, lemonade. the kind of lemonade which is prone to being drunk quickly. however, if you will note, these are rather strong drinks. the kind that will put hair on your chest. pink, fruity, fluffy hair.
go ahead and have your cookout, and make, oh, 10 batches of this. last night we actually christened summer beer by a different name: "it's summer time and the livin' is easy." as in, "hey honey, will you mix up another batch of it's summer time and the livin' is easy," or, "while you're in there, bring me a glass of it's summer time and the livin' is easy."
at least i have something to keep me occupied while my mint grows. really, really occupied. i'm sorry, i can't work today, i'm too busy developing alcoholism. KIDDING. i kid.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
sldkfjal;dksfjals;kfj
dear anonymous commenter from last blog post:
i agree.
now if only i could find someone to do all my homework, write my papers and take my exams, see my clients, take care of the 9485734985 animals at my house (did i mention that i rescued another cat? good job morgan. you needed another responsibility in your life. another PREGNANT responsibility.), clean my house, pay my bills, do my laundry (try to guess how many times i wear my jeans before i wash them), manage my money (did i also mention that i think now would be the perfect time for me to get involved in, say, an investment property? in my spare time, of course), cook my meals, dress me, shower me, accessorize me (like a doll -- also do my hair and my make up and paint my toenails)....if only i could find someone to do all those things, i would have time to do things like:
a. blog more
b. have sex more
c. sleep more
d. have a life more
maybe i need a flat morgan.
i agree.
now if only i could find someone to do all my homework, write my papers and take my exams, see my clients, take care of the 9485734985 animals at my house (did i mention that i rescued another cat? good job morgan. you needed another responsibility in your life. another PREGNANT responsibility.), clean my house, pay my bills, do my laundry (try to guess how many times i wear my jeans before i wash them), manage my money (did i also mention that i think now would be the perfect time for me to get involved in, say, an investment property? in my spare time, of course), cook my meals, dress me, shower me, accessorize me (like a doll -- also do my hair and my make up and paint my toenails)....if only i could find someone to do all those things, i would have time to do things like:
a. blog more
b. have sex more
c. sleep more
d. have a life more
maybe i need a flat morgan.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
because really what i am is an interior designer
time for a social worker story.
when i meet with new clients, we go over what household items they need -- things like pots and pans, toasters, towels, etc. sometimes i can help find furniture, but mostly i can round up things that have been donated to the shelter and that fit in my car -- and that is what i tell them. so today i meet with a new lady and she writes out a list for me of things that she wants/needs for the place she is moving into when she leaves shelter...things like beds, dressers, blankets.....and hardwood flooring.
hardwood flooring?
you would not BELIEVE how many people call up the shelter asking to donate their hardwood flooring! let me just put that in my trunk real quick, and at our next session after we go over your weekly goals i'll just go ahead and install it. did you want me to tile a backsplash for you as well? because after all, that is what a case manager is for, right???!!!!!
when i meet with new clients, we go over what household items they need -- things like pots and pans, toasters, towels, etc. sometimes i can help find furniture, but mostly i can round up things that have been donated to the shelter and that fit in my car -- and that is what i tell them. so today i meet with a new lady and she writes out a list for me of things that she wants/needs for the place she is moving into when she leaves shelter...things like beds, dressers, blankets.....and hardwood flooring.
hardwood flooring?
you would not BELIEVE how many people call up the shelter asking to donate their hardwood flooring! let me just put that in my trunk real quick, and at our next session after we go over your weekly goals i'll just go ahead and install it. did you want me to tile a backsplash for you as well? because after all, that is what a case manager is for, right???!!!!!
Monday, January 15, 2007
our little shitten
julie and i went to indy to see her family during the first week of january. i had made ALL of the good luck foods for new year's day, including but not limited to a corned beef brisket. i don't want to talk about it, and it is not the topic of this post, so don't get excited. so the fridge was stuffed with food and we were going out of town and it was all going to spoil if it didn't get eaten. enter our lovely and beloved friend, who we will call yon-diddy. his responsibilities during our absence were to make sure that the cats didn't claw each other's eyes out, and to eat every perishable food item in the house (no small task -- fortunately yon-diddy was up for such a formidable challenge).
a few days into our trip, we spoke with yon-diddy to check on his belly and the cats' eyes, and he made some timid murmurings about having something to confess. apparently he was here one day, and without realizing it he locked billie out on the sun porch, and then did not return until nearly two days later. no serious harm was done -- yon-diddy said her eyes looked as if perhpas they were bulging out a little and she made some fairly distressed mews upon her release from sun porch prison, but after a good long session with her food bowl and an equally long session in the pooper she seemed good as new.
until we arrived home some days later. see how long it takes you to discern where this story is headed, if you haven't already.
i was very excited to come home to my lovely nest and most especially to my even lovelier bed. lo about 10:30 on the evening of our return, i decided it was time for my bed and i to join in blissful union. into my jammies i went, pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets. oh wondrous heaven! but wait! what is that sensation of dampness -- nay, wetness! -- that i feel on my legs? gasp! what is that wretched aroma wafting up to overwhelm my senses with its rancid tendrils of stinky??? HORROR!!! TERROR!!!!!!!!!!
the shitten had peed in the bed. she also left a little note that said: "i hope you bitches learned your lesson. go sleep in the guest bed and spend some time reflecting on how you have scarred my wee impressionable little kitten psyche. next time, i'll pee all over your closet. fuckers. love always, billie."
a few days into our trip, we spoke with yon-diddy to check on his belly and the cats' eyes, and he made some timid murmurings about having something to confess. apparently he was here one day, and without realizing it he locked billie out on the sun porch, and then did not return until nearly two days later. no serious harm was done -- yon-diddy said her eyes looked as if perhpas they were bulging out a little and she made some fairly distressed mews upon her release from sun porch prison, but after a good long session with her food bowl and an equally long session in the pooper she seemed good as new.
until we arrived home some days later. see how long it takes you to discern where this story is headed, if you haven't already.
i was very excited to come home to my lovely nest and most especially to my even lovelier bed. lo about 10:30 on the evening of our return, i decided it was time for my bed and i to join in blissful union. into my jammies i went, pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets. oh wondrous heaven! but wait! what is that sensation of dampness -- nay, wetness! -- that i feel on my legs? gasp! what is that wretched aroma wafting up to overwhelm my senses with its rancid tendrils of stinky??? HORROR!!! TERROR!!!!!!!!!!
the shitten had peed in the bed. she also left a little note that said: "i hope you bitches learned your lesson. go sleep in the guest bed and spend some time reflecting on how you have scarred my wee impressionable little kitten psyche. next time, i'll pee all over your closet. fuckers. love always, billie."
Saturday, January 13, 2007
b-i-n-g-o
no, i haven't given up on blobbing, i just was hibernating for a minute and avoiding human interaction. NO BIGGIE.
one of my favorite things that happened over the holidays was bingo night at the lion's club in new palestine. let me give you a minute for that to sink in.
....
this whole thing started because julie's sister -- older sister -- asked for a bingo set for christmas. i thought that was a completely ridiculous thing to ask for. silly me. it only took one evening of rolling the little cage around with its little number balls for me to become completely obsessed with bingo. and so i decided i needed an even bigger, better, more bingo-y bingo experience. lucky for me, julie's sister was able to provide exactly what i was hoping for.
if you haven't played this kind of bingo, then there is no way i am going to be able to adequately describe what it is like. for one thing, you don't play one bingo card at a time, you usually play 24. and getting a bingo doesn't just include getting 5 in a row. you have to have at LEAST two bingos, in some games three, on the same card, and bingos can include four corners, big diamonds, little diamonds, OR clusters. except there are all these other specifications like if your two bingos are clusters they can't overlap and in some games clusters have to be in the corners, and on and on and it is so much more complicated than i ever DREAMED bingo could be. wonderfully BEAUTIFULLY complicated. so we pay $10 and get our regular 24 card sheets and then some other special ones for the $500 and $1000 (!!!) games. a whole evening of bingo blissfuless.
i wish wish WISH that i had taken a camera with me so that i could include pictures. bingo ladies are CRAZY. they have these lucky bingo charms that they bring with them -- things like troll dolls, and little embroidered thingies that say "i heart bingo," and pictures of their kids, and rotten apple cores (didn't make that one up. didn't.). and they smoke cartons upon cartons of cigarettes, and they have little bingo bags with all of their "dobbers" in them. (there is your new bingo vocab word for the day. a "dobber" is this special ink thing you use to mark your bingo cards. the serious bingo players have them in every color of the rainbow. i only had one -- it was hot pink). it is all craaaazy intense and SO. MUCH. FUN. we sat next to this crazy bingo lady who got really miffed at us because we talked too much during the "warm up games" (because we were trying to figure out what the hell a "crazy cluster game" entailed), but then once she decided we met her standards regarding acceptable character, she talked our ears off about her lucky numbers and how many cashews she had eaten.
needless to say, i have been busily searching for a bingo hall ever since we returned to nashville. haven't found one yet that is open to non-senior citizens, but i haven't given up hope. raise your hand if you want to come play bingo with me. thats what i thought.
no, i didn't win any money. but i do have a memory about winning $100 playing bingo on cruise ship when i was like 3 and all of the grown ups were PISSED that the little kid won. i don't think i ever saw that money.
one of my favorite things that happened over the holidays was bingo night at the lion's club in new palestine. let me give you a minute for that to sink in.
....
this whole thing started because julie's sister -- older sister -- asked for a bingo set for christmas. i thought that was a completely ridiculous thing to ask for. silly me. it only took one evening of rolling the little cage around with its little number balls for me to become completely obsessed with bingo. and so i decided i needed an even bigger, better, more bingo-y bingo experience. lucky for me, julie's sister was able to provide exactly what i was hoping for.
if you haven't played this kind of bingo, then there is no way i am going to be able to adequately describe what it is like. for one thing, you don't play one bingo card at a time, you usually play 24. and getting a bingo doesn't just include getting 5 in a row. you have to have at LEAST two bingos, in some games three, on the same card, and bingos can include four corners, big diamonds, little diamonds, OR clusters. except there are all these other specifications like if your two bingos are clusters they can't overlap and in some games clusters have to be in the corners, and on and on and it is so much more complicated than i ever DREAMED bingo could be. wonderfully BEAUTIFULLY complicated. so we pay $10 and get our regular 24 card sheets and then some other special ones for the $500 and $1000 (!!!) games. a whole evening of bingo blissfuless.
i wish wish WISH that i had taken a camera with me so that i could include pictures. bingo ladies are CRAZY. they have these lucky bingo charms that they bring with them -- things like troll dolls, and little embroidered thingies that say "i heart bingo," and pictures of their kids, and rotten apple cores (didn't make that one up. didn't.). and they smoke cartons upon cartons of cigarettes, and they have little bingo bags with all of their "dobbers" in them. (there is your new bingo vocab word for the day. a "dobber" is this special ink thing you use to mark your bingo cards. the serious bingo players have them in every color of the rainbow. i only had one -- it was hot pink). it is all craaaazy intense and SO. MUCH. FUN. we sat next to this crazy bingo lady who got really miffed at us because we talked too much during the "warm up games" (because we were trying to figure out what the hell a "crazy cluster game" entailed), but then once she decided we met her standards regarding acceptable character, she talked our ears off about her lucky numbers and how many cashews she had eaten.
needless to say, i have been busily searching for a bingo hall ever since we returned to nashville. haven't found one yet that is open to non-senior citizens, but i haven't given up hope. raise your hand if you want to come play bingo with me. thats what i thought.
no, i didn't win any money. but i do have a memory about winning $100 playing bingo on cruise ship when i was like 3 and all of the grown ups were PISSED that the little kid won. i don't think i ever saw that money.
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