Fifty-Fifty

I am abundantly annoyed about my stupid broken toe. It has been two weeks and while the bruise is gone, I still can’t walk without a limp, walk for any period of time without being miserable, and there certainly isn’t any running going on, and I’m watching my goal of a fall half-marathon slip away.

I’m also annoyed that once again, I’ve completely forgotten that I have to actually pay personal property tax by the end of the month. I don’t know how I manage this, but every year when that bill shows up, I am surprised, and not in the happy surprise birthday party kind of way. More like the discovering maggots in your trash can kinda way (Hi princess!)

Then there’s the stupid ticket I got on Monday. I can’t even adequately articulate just how stupid this was, turns out I was just lucky enough to meet the cop that was either a) so new he didn’t actually know the law I supposedly broke or b) just so hell bent on writing a ticket he was going FIND a violation to write me up for one way or the other. Why do I say this (you ask) because it took him 15 minutes of rifling through his little police officer manual to figure out what law I actually broke. Shouldn’t there be a 10 minute rule or something? If you don’t know what I did wrong, should you really be allowed to write me a ticket? I think NOT. A 50 dollar violation, which will cost me 170 bucks to pay it and get over it, or 300 bucks to hire an attorney to fight it for me. GAH!

On the other hand, my mom comes this weekend, and my puppy is doing really well and today, it was nearly perfect outside; warm but not hot, low humidity, pretty blue sky and an abundance of sunshine. I drove home this evening with the windows down, Sheryl Crow’s C’mon C’mon blaring from my radio. I sang along, loudly and badly; (because Cravey doesn’t do things half way) and I did not care when I saw fellow commuters laughing at me; in fact Mr. Honda Accord, you made me turn UP the volume, because you Sir, need to seek out a support group for those that cannot UNCLENCH. No way should you be walking around like that.

My sister Staci and her boyfriend are always reminding themselves that “life is good” and someone gave me the sticker that carries that slogan for my car window. Mine has a little yellow dog roasting a marshmallow over a campfire. I think Staci, Adam and the little yellow dog are right. Stupid annoyances aside, Life is Good.

I’m still pissed about the ticket though.

They aren't golden, but they are MINE.

Everything I’ve been writing lately leans heavily to the dark, serious and twisty side of me. While clearly, that's how I’m feeling - I don’t wanna feel that way, so I stole this idea from lil-sister ‘Roo, who never fails to make me laugh, in print, on the phone, and especially in person.
Thanks ‘Roo, I owe you one.

Rules of Cravey.. also in no particular order.

I’m going to have to start with one of Roo’s because I couldn’t agree more.

If you are a stranger to me, there is NO TOUCHING THE CRAVEY.
Do not put your arm around me, try to hug me, touch my face, or any other part of me. THIS is simply not okay. I honestly believe that when friends of mine got pregnant and told me that strangers were constantly touching their pregnant stomach - STRANGERS, like, people on public buses were TOUCHING them. It sealed the deal on pregnancy for me. I feel confident that if you laid your hands on my pregnant stomach you would draw back a bloody stump. This is probably not the best temperament for a mother-to-be.

If you are mean to an animal or a small child in front of me, I will get in your face and I will embarrass you and I do NOT care what your story is. I have recently stood in the entrance of a Wal-Mart waiting for the police with a man and a sobbing child with a hand-shaped welt on his face screaming “you are not my father!” That man easily outweighed me by 100 pounds and had 6 inches on me. He did not get past me and he definitely wanted to. It’s my belief that people that hit children or animals are cowards at heart and confronted with anything that looks like real courage they crumble like dry dog excrement in the sun. I’ll accept that this may backfire on me one day. It will still be worth it.

If you say “Irregardless” to me I will instantly dislike you. It’s not a real word (in dictionary talk they call it “nonstandard”) and it’s stupid. So stop saying that.

I can’t wear white shoes. They just look wrong to me. Also, Capri pants. Many many, many people look great in these, and make them look cool. I have tried on about 457 pairs of capri pants, every time thinking they will be fine. I put them on, and all I can think is “my pants are too short”. Not a single pair has ever made it out of the dressing room.

I think if there were more men like Dr. Phil, there would be more lesbians.
This has little to do with anything – it just needed to be said.

I am generally a happy person. I am more content with my life in the last 3 years than ever before. However, this does not mean I walk around with a toothpaste commercial-style smile on my face. Nothing is wrong. This is just my face.

I think because I was so sports-oriented as a child/young adult I have trouble when I feel like people aren’t being fair. I know that life isn’t fair. I expect the people in my life to do their level best to be fair in their dealings with me. I give what I get. No referee required.

That’s all for tonight, and really.. isn’t that quite enough?


Since this sorta turned into a Meme.. I’m going to tag.. So, No Celery Please. Hit the ‘sphere up with some rules, and the celery rule is a given; no need to repeat.
Also, I need to hear from the Princess – because I *know* she’s got some good ones. And anyone else that wants to pile on, feel free.

Who's that knocking on my door?

So, since moving into my house in NC, I've discovered a plethora of critters that live in and around my house..black snakes, garter snakes, skinks (love me some skinks), the ladybugs previously blogged about, tons of toads, and this morning, when leaving my house, these dudes.

Um, Is that the biggest slug you've ever seen? Cuz it's freaking huge by my standards, and totally geeked me out this morning. I went into the office and hit up a manager who also happens to be an entomologist to make sure I shouldn't be worried about the fact that they were climbing up the side of my house.

Note: Slugs are not bugs. The entomologist was NOT amused.

He was kind enough to tell me that I had nothing to worry about after pointing out the above fact. But seriously? That thing is BIG, right?

OUCH!

You know how you live somewhere for 2.5 years, and you THINK you know where your furniture is?

Yeah... BIG mistake.

)(*&%$!!!!!^%$#@@#$$%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What are you doin' for the next 57 years?

According to this, that's how much time I've got left.





I need more hobbies.
F A S T

A Farmer's Market Surprise

On the heels of my very industrious Friday came the perfect Saturday. I was up early for coffee with a friend, and out to my little town’s farmers market. I’ve been meaning since JUNE to get out to this market, as it’s brand new this year, and I’ll take shopping under sunny blue skies over shopping under fluorescent lighting any day, all day long.

One of the ‘vendors’ at the farmers market was a town representative. She had a little survey about what other things they could sell, information on the existing vendors and recipes. Two of those recipes quickly became my shopping list. I bought everything I needed for Shrimp and Veggie Stew and Corn and Tomato Casserole right there in the town hall parking lot. Including the best smelling spicy Basil EVER. There was a frappe/smoothie/fair trade coffee stand, a fresh fish stand, a fresh herbs stand, a skin care stand, a raw honey stand and the cutest little old man who called me ‘little missy’ and sold me okra, tomatoes, squash and jalapeno and banana peppers. There was also a big hairy dog named Alice who didn’t sell me anything, but let me scratch her blonde head and wagged her tail for me.

It doesn’t get any better.

I pretty much skipped back to the house to start chopping vegetables for my stew, and right there in my kitchen, is where things got a little freaky.

First order of business on the recipe was to marinade the shrimp in fresh lime juice. I measured the lime juice and poured it into a ziploc baggie – and reached for the shrimp, peeling and deveining ahead, I thought. While not my favorite cooking task, I was completely unprepared for what lurked in that bag. You see, I have never seen shrimps with their heads still on. They have big bulgy eyes, and long LONG antennae things.. and they were looking at me, all prehistorically angry and accusatory. I almost couldn’t do it. I seriously considered throwing them out. It took all of my concentration to slice off their little (freakin' huge!) shrimp heads - while being very careful not actually touch those creepy, bulgy eyes, cuz EW.

In fact, pretty quickly I decided the only way I was going to get through it was to do get rid of those heads (EYES) first. Things got a little better after that, but I spent the next several hours while the vegetables sat in my crock pot debating on whether or not I would be able to actually add the shrimp “just before serving”.

Six hours later, I got over it and added the marinated shrimp.
Not long after that, I was completely over it, because that stew, creepy headless shrimp and all, was awesome.

Busy Season

Fall is coming. Okay, I know, it’s still hitting the 90’s (even the high 90’s) here in North Cackalackey, but fall is coming. Sept 1st the humidity around here dropped by 20% as quickly as if someone dropped a curtain. A few days later it was 63 when I got up at 5:30 to take the puppy out to play. The grass was wet. My feet were a little cold standing in the grass playing. Fall is coming.

I like the way fall air smells. I like the way the light changes. I like the smell of a distant fire. I like the cool mornings and evenings, with the warm day jammed in the middle. I have ten times the energy in the fall. This is the time of year my intended short runs are inevitably extended by two to three miles, just because it feels too good to stop. This is the time of year I can’t get anything done around the house, because I just want to be outside; doing anything. I predict the addition of a puppy this fall, will make that much worse. I simply cannot wait.

It seems that the tiny bit of fall that leaked into the last 7 days leaked into me too.

My list of things to do today included the following:
Freezer delivery
Flooring estimates
Doctor’s appointment
Drop off fundraising money for friend B’s kid

Oh, and also, I had to do this little thing called WORK. This was not a day off.
Holy crow, that’s a lot of crap for one little day.

In the interest of fair and honest reporting, I did reschedule the doctor’s appointment, but I quickly filled that slot with mowing my lawn. A very good friend, after making fun of the ‘wheat’ growing in my front yard, dropped off a lawnmower (a brand new one at that) this afternoon, showed me how to operate the thing and then left me to sink or swim. I thought I was only going to do the front yard, but I was enjoying it so much; I went ahead and did the back yard too. I’d love to know how come no-one told me that shit was so much fun (Staci-sister, I’m looking at YOU). I’m not going to say there wasn’t more than a little sweat on my brow (and other places too) – but in my book that’s all good too (see the little running habit I have).

I’d probably write about the joys of pushing a lawn mower, but I have a list to make. A list of all the things I’m going to do tomorrow and Sunday too. I’ve got a lot to do because fall is coming, and I am not planning on spending much time at home in the next few months, at least until its cold enough to need slippers and hot chocolate with a dash of vanilla stoli.

You're all invited.