I’ve been away.  Nothing big has happened and I think I have a tendency to do this for a few months out of the year.  Usually from September to or through April.  Ok, maybe a better way to say it would be that a few months out of the year I’m ok.  Anyway, moving on…

I have a house.  I want to sell it.  I want to build a new house.  We actually have the opportunity to do that.  What I seem to be lacking is time.  It always comes back to time, or the lack thereof.  Even once I have some of that elusive time thing, other people want it and I’m all “leave a bitch alone” in my head.  I think these things but then I hear what is suspiciously my voice saying things like, “sure, not a problem”.  I’m working on it. 

Have I bitched about my inability to conceive?  If not, I need to say I’m having issues getting pregnant.  The issue is that I’m not.  It took 3 years to get pregnant with my son and apparently, at least that many to have the next child.  I’ve run out of ways to explain the roller coaster ride of joy that experience has become.  We’re working on it.  My hubby had his sperm counted, there’s plenty and they’re healthy.  I had blood work done and contrary to popular belief, my hormone levels are indeed normal.  The next step is an HSG.  Look it up.  It involves x-rays and is internal.  Hubby gets to jack off into a cup, I get to spend 15 minutes in pain.  This is fair because? 

I had my brother live with us for a short period of time.  This was because my mother’s home was and still is a dilapitated turd.  I thought we could help.  I was wrong, we could not.  My mother is/was a hoarder of animals but I guess I can say she was a good hoarder.  She tried to take better care of the animals than she did herself or my brother.  But, my brother is 21.  It’s not like someone should be taking care of him at this point.  Over 70 dogs were signed over to the SPCA on Christmas day and we’re moving on from that.  My brother is not here now and I have my office back.  Do you know how hard it is to write a bitch-fest when the second you stand up, someone swoops in like a buzzard on roadkill?  PC does not mean public computer.  It’s personal computer not public. 

So, today I’m just zoning when I shouldn’t be.  I should be washing the hubby’s 3 loads of laundry, packing the house and doing whatever it is that I should be doing.  Yesterday was the memorial service for my best friend’s mother.  It was cancer.  I wish you supposed adults would stop fucking around with that.  Apparently, The Big C does not fool around.  My dad was 43 when he died.  Her mother was 53.  Both of them were scared of it being serious so they ignored it.  Can someone learn a lesson from this? 

That’s all for now.  

and I promise that I won’t let her post on the blog again unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.  Good grief, the only thing that was missing in my first posts here was some Robert Smith in the background and a razor. 

I AM NOT ENCOURAGING OR CONDONING THAT BEHAVIOR, CALM DOWN. 

I do encourage The Cure, I’m just mildly annoyed and yet mesmerized by the culture that seems to have grown in the last 15 years sort of around a band that’s more than 30 years old.  That being said, I can move on.

Now, can anyone tell me where I can find some, oh it pains me to say this, vintage Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles merchandise?  The 3yo watched the vhs copies of the movies and was elated at the Walmart commercials featuring toys that we will not be able to find unless by some miracle they are in a box in the barn.  Let’s add to the poor kid’s frustration when he goes into Hot Topic and the TMNT are only available on girl things.  He’s all for equal opportunity but he’s pretty sure that’s not fair and I’m pretty sure I want my childhood left untainted. 

I recently started a blog for my family.  Mind you, it was about 4 years later than I promised but I did it, what more do you want?  Anyway, in the process of setting up the page, I came across a dilemma.  Ok, not necessarily a dilemma but an annoyance that created a dilemma.  It also provided an opportunity for that ugly beast Hypocrisy to raise her head.  I know she’s a she.  Has to be, now just bear with me.

Anyways, I can only be so clever with what I have and what I have is a last name that is 4 letters long and easily found in a book.  Any attempts at brain power were thwarted by people who apparently have cyber-ADD.  I mumbled, muttered and moaned every time one of my cute and clever titles came back as “unavailable”.  As the female of the species is more inquisitive than the male, I proceeded to find out who had the audacity to take away my potential blog title.

Weeeeellllllllllll, it would seem that blog-making is a decision made on a whim and lasts no longer than the first post that details how the user is so excited to finally be on the web with one of those blog things that everyone is raving on.  Then nothing. Nada, zilch, zip, finito?  No, not finito because it’s still hanging there!  Blogs from January 2005 just taking up space with their lonely posts on standard issue templates.  It’s sad really.

So sad in fact that I became nostalgic and was reminded of this little place online called Vox.  I have a poor sense of direction and a short attention span.  This is how I found Vox. With one haphazard click, I begin a downward spiral that will end up pages and hours away from where I innocently started on a fairly regular basis.  Fairly regular being daily.

Since a great fear in life is being hypocritical I rushed over to Vox’s website and attempted to log in.  I just had one itsy problem and that is that I have neglected to remember the password, email account, screen name and so on and I guess that’s ok since I never even made the aforementioned introductory post.  At this point, Hypocrisy was sent to the naughty mat and I said “to hell with it” and dragged myself back over to Blogger which resulted in disaster.  The word hell was paired with the word handbasket and I had no choice but to delete and come to WordPress.  A certain level of anonymity is required here as you will soon understand. 

I have no idea what this blog will be for.  I make no promises other than I will ramble on to my own discontent.  I’m a happy person but I have issues and since I’m not ready to fix my own I worry more about the issues of those around me.  I have avoidance finessed in ways that some can only dream.

There was a time I would write and I have come to another time in my life where I need to write.  Unfortunately and I’m still concerned how this came to be but my personal writings became a burden to those around me.  Ironically those around me were the ones driving me to write.  They felt I needed to express myself since they could see the stress literally boring an infectious path through my insides.  So I wrote and they didn’t like what they read, in some cases without permission, and told me that I had no right.

Maybe tomorrow we can talk about my guilt.