Giddy Girlie

I feel a little better. Two days, three naps, fleece pajama pants, chocolate lollipops, pirate jokes and Misfits tunes.

Friday night, Ryan's band played and a bunch of friends came out. I got many hugs, had lots of laughs - even got humped by Jake in the doorway - does it get any better?! I was dead on my feet, after having been awake for almost 24 hours, but I didn't want to go to sleep... I didn't want the happiness to leave. Ryan snapped a couple of pictures before we went to bed...

Saturday, Jenn came over and we lazed around and went in the jacuzzi : the best therapy ever

Sunday, we went to John & Rosey's house and laughed hysterically, remembering the fun we had at Magic Mountain the past few times that we went.

Posted by giddygirlie at 7:23 PM | Permalink

Editor's Note : I just realized that I sent you to the wrong link on Tracy's site, although there is truly no "wrong" link... but this was the black and white cookie concept that I was referencing.

Posted by giddygirlie at 8:29 PM | Permalink

On Tuesday, I was offered a job that I have been considering. It comes with a nice pay increase and a few added bonuses. I asked for some time to consider.

On Wednesday, I was laid off. Our whole department has become outsourced and so I have until Friday to transition my duties, and then I'm history. Needless to say, I accepted the other job. Even though this new job holds a lot of promise and could be something really good... I haven't had a chance to get excited yet. I came home last night and was in a deep funk. I turned to hot water, bubbles, and a good book. The traditional panacea failed me... so I turned to the humor of a good kick-ass friend... I felt a little better, but still couldn't sleep and my dreams were riddled with odd references to bloggers that I barely know. Today I am exhausted. I want to cry. I want to yell. I want to kick some body in the shins. I want to sew. I want to make sock monkeys for hot chicks. I want to eat chocolate until I barf. I want to shop, spend all my money. I want to bounce the rent check and run off to Mexico. I want to run a marathon. I want to stay in bed. I want to flog myself for being a flake. I owe candy to so many people... I have wristcuffs to knit... I have dishes to wash. And all I want to do is lay here. Watch TV movies and cry into my popcorn. Forgive me friends, the Giddy Girl is in a grumpy mood.

Posted by giddygirlie at 7:52 PM | Permalink

But tonight I am like an old paper bag. Worn at the seams. Wrinkled across the front. A small spot of grease someplace near the bottom. Crammed into the cupboard, left behind. Breathing that familiar paper smell. Sitting here alone.

Tomorrow you will find me. Fill me up with promises again. Three oranges. A sandwich in a bag. The bottom feels heavy, the strain a delight. The top edges will be rolled down, a crude handle. One step, two steps, three steps, four steps, just as you reach the stairs... my weaknesses exposed. The oranges roll away. The sandwich crushed. You mutter a profanity, kicking brown paper to the side. Collecting things in your arms, you hurl me into the trash. Cram the paper all the way to the bottom. A small wadded ball of brown, wrinkles reaching to unfold, to apologize. The crackle is audible, my efforts difficult and slow. Clumsy. You leave again without noticing. I sigh a pressed paper breath and resign myself to the bottom of this wastebasket.

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:53 PM | Permalink

Personally, I think that anyone who wants to be married should have the right. It's discrimination to deny people that opportunity based on their sexual preference. What this whole stupid thing about is the "ick" factor. That it makes someone uncomfortable, and so it should be hidden away from everyone else. It's the same ick factor that left our handicapped children locked in the back rooms... the same ick factor that left our mentally ill chained to a bed in a hospital... it's the same ick factor that kept people enslaved on our fields... it's the same "icky" feeling that we didn't know how to deal with, so we hid it away. No one talked about it. No one knew. But in 2004 we are an enlightened society. We know that physical and mental malformations exist. So what? We know that people come in various races and colors and they want to shop in the same places, live in the same neighborhoods. So what? But some of us are still hiding our piano legs and denying that the world is round...

But you can't complain about a problem, unless you bring a solution. Mine is this : I think the gay community should stage the Million Fag March. Everyone would convene on Capital Hill and have these lusty make out sessions and confront Dubya and his stupid "ick" factor head-on.

Posted by giddygirlie at 4:11 PM | Permalink

I leaned back against the pole outside. The sun soaked through my clothes and left an aura of warmth all around me. The clouds were strewn out, delicately stretched. Each was outlined in purple and fuschia in the noon sun. High up in the atmosphere were breezes that scattered them and beat them to pieces. Cotton candy, unwound from the paper cone.

I had the overwhelming sense of Costa Mesa. The warm air on the patio, passing the joint back to Dave. Watching the neighbors, sitting in plain sight. The haze that circled my brain warmed by senses and sang lullabies to me. Sitting on the cold cement outside the ceramics studio. Forming coil pots, rounding them out with rubber wedges. The smell of the raku kiln burning, the embers drifting through the air. The fuzzy reception of the classic rock station, buzzing Pink Floyd to me. Strolling down Harbor Blvd., on foot. Browsing at the bead shop, running my fingers through the enormous trays of glass seed beads. Surveying the clasps and chains, the findings, the charms. Clutching the small baggie with my silver bee, black mini dice, and 40 glass beads. Sipping hot apple cider outside in the courtyard by the fountain. Reading Henry Rollins, feeling so intellectual and so insignificant. Wanting to write prose that halted and hiccupped. Crying for the loss of friends, the death of an era, the birth of something new. Singing at the top of my lungs, because no on cared. No one listened. Eating grilled cheese sandwiches out of necessity, but also pure delight. Sitting by the pool with my toes swirling back and forth, daring the boys. Drinking Strawberry Hill bottle after bottle. Getting sick on the sweetness but refusing to throw up. Gossiping with the Swedish girls from next door. Selling books for cash and spending all of the profits on a single entree atthe Chinese Food place. Relishing in garlic noodles and steamed rice. Lying awake 'til all hours, contemplating life... eating gummy bears and popsicles. I really don't think it gets any better than this. Vanilla smile and a gorgeous strawberry kiss.

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:08 PM | Permalink

Sorry, the flag isn't included.

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:23 PM | Permalink

The curves are soft, the hair flips under the ears, the tattoos are in all the right places. Of course, we took a few creative liberties on the piece... I am not that perfect... but it's reasonably accurate. I'll say that much. I personally really like the picture, and after we have it finalized in a few days, I am sending it off to the mercy of Brad to be colored.

But it begs the question : do YOU want to see a picture that is a little risque, a touch saucy, way cute, reasonably accurate, and of me??

Posted by giddygirlie at 1:00 PM | Permalink

For me, it's Target. Target makes me wish I were rich. Target makes me overdraw my bank account. I would become a whore to support my Target habit.

Today, I walked out with a box of Cheez-its (Ryan's choice, actually), 2 blouses (work-appropriate too! bonus!!), cat food, 2 cookie sheets, a pyramid shaped cheese grater, Ziploc plastic containers, and a big ol' container of grape juice - $30!! Thirty dollars, people! Where else can you get new clothes (yay!), snackies (woo hoo!), cat food (meow!), tupper mail containers (lollipops by mail!), kitchen ware (cheese puffs, anyone?), and a little something to wash it all down with? No where! Nothing compares with Target!! And don't give me that Wal-Mart or Kmart argument... they aren't the same! Nothing makes you feel better than Target... I think they pump drugs into the vents, to make you complacent. So giddy to spend your money on kitchenware and cat treats. I am unable to turn away. I can't cite a single example of walking out of Target empty handed... in fact, I probably dropped $25 while I was there, too. Damn Target. I am such a slave...

Posted by giddygirlie at 6:45 PM | Permalink

Ok, I admit. I am a total loser. I get WAY too much enjoyment from television sometimes. Especially when served to me in cartoon form after 11pm. I schedule my life around the 11pm episode of Family Guy and the 11:30pm episode of Futurama on Cartoon Network. Adult Swim rules my life. Late night snacking may take place between 10pm-11pm, but no later. All manner of sex and stimulation (other than the hazy glow of TV) may take place beginning at 12am, but not one moment sooner. Well, not really, but man do I love me some cartoons!!

Blaring example of my idiocy : Wednesday night. 11:40-ish. Ryan is asleep, curled up beside me. I am laughing out loud at this episode of Futurama, where Fry wonders what life would be like if it were more like a video game. General Pac Man is leading the army against an invasion from space (Space Invaders) and oh my god, I am so dumb, but I could not stop laughing. Every time Pac Man walked across the screen, he said "wocka wocka wocka wocka". And then they moved about town through tubes and tunnels like in Mario Brothers. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. I woke Ryan up. The cat left the room because I was bothering him. He resigned his warm space on the bed, because I am such a total idiot. I laugh out loud at things on TV. Things in cartoon form. At 11:30pm.

Posted by giddygirlie at 4:18 PM | Permalink

it is ok to punch your friend in the face when...

she tells you that a g-string bikini wax doesn't hurt "that bad" and that the regrowth is "barely noticable" and that the experience isn't "too embarrassing"

Posted by giddygirlie at 7:30 AM | Permalink

1. I just showed up at your front door, unannounced, and have to pee REALLY bad. I head right into your bathroom … what will I find?

The sink is in pretty good shape… for my bathroom anyway. Not too much clutter and I actually did scrub the thing recently, so it's ok. On the floor there are the pants and underwear that Ryan wore yesterday and my pajamas from this morning. We're terrible about using the laundry hamper! Next to the bath tub, there is the shelf that is holds all kinds of miscellaneous stuff… candles, bath oils, etc. and the bottom shelf is piled high with magazines and books that I read in the bath. Also, depending on his mood, Ruckus may have unrolled the toilet paper into a twisted pile on the floor. Please do not look directly AT the dust bunnies behind the toilet. They are liable to bite you.

2. While washing my hands, I notice that your medicine cabinet door is slightly ajar. Being nosy, I take a peek inside… what's in there?

I have four shelves in my cabinet. The top shelf is all pill bottles. You'll find left over antibiotics and anticonvulsants that I didn't use. There's bottles of migraine pills, pain killers and even ear drops. The second shelf has bars of soap and deodorants. I probably have 4 different kinds and Ryan has at least 3. Plus the spray on one (Axe) that is mostly perfume for men (I call it "man pits"). The third shelf is mostly make up stuff like loose powders, fake eye lash glue, and for some reason a small maple candy santa in this tiny little box. I don't know where he came from or why. The bottom shelf is a mish mash of junk…antihistamine boxes, a candle, Bath & Body Works body sprays, band aids, hair spray, eye drops… infer from it what you will.

3. You're in a hurry to leave, but invite me to stay and relax. You give your set of keys and rush out the door… what is on your key ring?

I have about 10 keys on there, and yes, I really use them all. I have two key chains. One has a metal frog and the other has a View Askew medallion with Jay & Silent Bob on it. I also carry with me a Ralph's club card, and a PetCo Pals card. I also have the clicky-remote to turn off the alarm and unlock my car.

4. I decide to lay down and take a nap in your bedroom. I lay down on the bed and stretch out, but find that I can't sleep. Looking around your room, I am noticing the things on your bed side table… what's there?

I have a stack of about 5 books that I am reading (yes, all of them). I also have a pile of Simpsons comics which I have read recently. Last night I left my drink by the side of the bed, too, so there is probably a warm iced tea. On the floor, you'll see 2 or 3 condoms that never were put back in the drawer. A jar of Carmex, a pony tail holder, a pen, the Complete Kama Sutra, and a claw hair clip.

5. When you come back, you offer to make me dinner. We walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator and pantry doors… what kinds of food do you have on hand?

My refrigerator holds these items : 12 eggs, 1 stick of butter, 1 tupperware container of random leftovers, 1 pizza crust, American cheese slices, salad in a bag, and a bag of spinach greens.

My freezer has : 8 chicken breasts, 2 lbs of ground beef, 2 lean cuisine meals, 7 frozen pizzas (the little $1 kind), 1 Claim Jumper frozen dinner, three trays of pirate chocolates, waiting to be packaged. A freezer bag full of Ghiradelli chocolate, a small Ziploc baggie of white chocolate and another of orange chocolate. Also three freezer bags full of fruity lollipops, waiting to be mailed.

My pantry has : mac-n-cheese (6 boxes), tortilla chips, Cheerios, 3 jars of peanut butter, instant mashed potatoes, a big bag of rice, a box of corn meal, cans of diced tomatoes and tomato paste. Oh, and microwave popcorn.

6. After we've eaten, you offer to give me a ride home, but your friend calls 'shotgun' before we get outside, so I have to sit in the back seat… what else is in the backseat of your car?

Actually, I had to clear out the back seat last night for someone else, so all that is in there today is my umbrella. But you'll noticed that I haven't vacuumed in a millennia so there is all kinds of miscellaneous scraps of paper, as well as the 'confetti' from a hole puncher that opened in the back seat. Yesterday, there was also a stack of the Taint's CD and their stickers, left over from their show 3 weeks ago, 2 beach towels, a beach bag, and sun block.

Posted by giddygirlie at 2:00 PM | Permalink

can YOU think of a better way to spend an hour of your evening than kickin' ass losing your shirt at online strip Scrabble with some truly exceptional people?

can YOU think of anything better than singing Mr. Bungle at the top of your lungs in an empty house while chatting with a friend on the pros and cons of housekeepers and prostitution rates?

can YOU think of a better snack than a pirate-shaped chocolate lollipop?

No, I don't think that you can.

Posted by giddygirlie at 11:07 PM | Permalink

Maybe 3 weeks ago, I came home and saw movers carrying boxes and furniture to the apartment across the courtyard from ours. Funny, I never saw the other people leave. Nor the cleaning crew come in. Nor any prospective renters tour the place. Hmm... oh well. That was the only indication that new people were coming.

So maybe 2 weeks ago, Ryan and I are out in the courtyard with Ruckus & Monkey, enjoying the sunshine and the Mr. New Neighbor stops to say hello. He's about 55 years old and has a well worn black leather bible under one arm and proceeds to chat up a storm with us, including at least three back tracks where he apologizes that he can't stay and talk longer, but he's already spent all afternoon in the church parking lot with some other people talking and is 2 hours late and his wife will worry... and then he tells us about how they aren't "technically new" since they have lived here for 7 years, but on the other side, by the second pool, and that they loved the location, the patio got great sun and they had these plants that just loved it, but then they noticed that their cat was getting lethargic, and even though she is 10 years old, she had never been this lazy and almost seemed sick and so he started looking around to find a cause and that's when he found some spots of mold on the back of the cabinet under the sink and that must be it - the cat has mold poisioning so he called the vet and the vet couldn't say for sure, and the cat looked ok but he wasn't willing to take that chance and so he told the leasing office people that they had to move them right away because he couldn't risk his cat dying in a mold infested house...

Ryan and I just stood there, staring. Seriously, this guy didn't breathe. Then, with a quick "God Bless You" he bounded up the stairs to meet the wife. We thought that he was pretty nice, even if slightly odd. At least he wouldn't be hosting any raves or selling drugs out of there... he should work out just fine.

The next night at like 12:15am or so, Ryan and I decide that we're hungry and after much debate, we settle on Del Taco breakfast burritos. The perfect late night snack. We head out, down the stairs and see the new neighbor lady out on her set of stairs, scrubbing with a brush. Hands-and-knees scrubbing. Cinderella scrubbing. It was very weird. We suppress our bewildered looks and get into the car. When we got back, we again had to pass her, scrubbing away over there and could smell the pungent, unmistakeable smell of white vinegar. Weird, isn't it?

Since then, I have seen this woman scrubbing those stairs with her big ol' bottle of white vinegar several times... at all time of day and night. She's been out at 7am when I leave for work, out when we come home at 3am on a Saturday night, scrubbing at 11am, scrubbing at 8:30pm. I had initially thought that maybe she was germophobic or something and maybe was scared of the mold? Or ants coming up the front stairs? But now I am just puzzled... any ideas??

Posted by giddygirlie at 3:08 PM | Permalink

* new IM screen name : TheGiddyGirlie (click the horeshoe above to chat)
- I will also be keeping the AnswerLadyMia screen name, but as many of you know that is the IM that I use for work, so all my conversations are recorded by The Company. TheGiddyGirlie is my screen name for my personal life, and it's possible that I may not be available at that screen name during the "business hours" but will be at night. Please still IM me at AnswerLadyMia if TheGiddyGirlie isn't signed on.

* Hot Link
- every so often, I will update the Hot Link button (horseshoe icon above) to send you to another exciting web site. It may be a blog, it could be an eBay listing, or just a great site overall.

Posted by giddygirlie at 5:59 PM | Permalink

I am a creature of habit. Every night when I come home from work, I say hello to Ryan, pet Ruckus, give Monkey srubbies behind his ears, then run to the bathroom to go pee.

Friday night, I came home, as usual, said hello to everyone... only when I got to the bathroom, I found this.

I looked in the mirror and could see him standing in the hallway, smiling.

"Ry... this is so sweet..."

"Hey, Cutes, nothin' says 'I love you' like flowers in the shitter"

[for the record, he hand-painted a red rose black, made a card, bought me some new crafty supplies, and found the framed photo of us on our first anniversary. The heart with the bat wings is something that he and I made up in the summer of 1997 as a cool icon... we use it for everything that we personalize for one another. He took the liberty of adding a pirate hat for Friday The Thirteenth 2004.]

Posted by giddygirlie at 12:45 PM | Permalink

My friend John, is for a lack of a better term, totally freaking handsome. He is so funny and cool and all that good stuff that you say about your husband's best friend when you really just want to smooch them. ANYWAY, he's this very mellow guy, but has one of those rowdy-kick-your-ass-don't-take-no-bullshit-laughs-too-loud-at-jokes-that-aren't-even-slightly-funny-asks-you-to-marry-him-twice-then-sings-happy-birthday kinds of drunk personalities. He has such a dual persona... he's the coolest stoner you've ever met... he'll kick your ass at XBox and tell you which comic books you should be reading, and then suddenly he's the no-nonsense-quit-messing-with-me-buddy-or-I'll-break-your-face guy. This is how it goes when you mess with him :

1. After drinking in a bar after work, John stops into liquor store at the Balboa Fun Zone to pick up a 6 pack of beer and head home. When he comes out of the liquor store, two guys stagger out of the adjacent bar. Both are very obviously drunk, and one can barely walk. The other is just drunk enough to feel invincible and is looking for trouble. Both guys are sporting flat top haircuts, which can only mean one thing around here : Marines.

So John sees the Guy and tries to get past him on the sidewalk when the Guy starts yelling at him, trying to start a fight. John tells him that he doesn't want to fight with him, and tries to walk past. In a cloud of profanities and insults, the Guy reaches over and rips John's watch from his wrist. That was it... John sets down his 6 pack and goes chest-to-chest with the Guy. The Guy starts throwing sloppy punches. John returns with precision hits. By all accounts, the Guy's nose is broken. Blood is pouring down his face. The injury probably isn't all that severe, but the Guy has been drinking. John tries several times just to back up and leave, realizing that the Guy is too drunk to know how hurt he is. The Guy's friend yells for him to stop and to hurry, or they'll miss the ferry back to the island. The friend is dismissed with a wave of the hand. The friend tries to pull the guy toward the ferry. John picks up his 6 pack and sets off for home.

Not five steps are between them, the Guy and John. John's back is turned, but he hears the Guy coming. Running. In an instant, he’s on John’s back. He’s got his arm around John's throat. He’s yelling "who's the tough guy now?!" Without missing a step, John reaches into the bag that he's carrying and withdraws a single beer bottle. Holding the neck of the bottle in his hand he throws his arm backward, over his head, and smashes the Guy in the head with the bottle. The Guy lets go. He's finally, and acutely, aware of his pain. His head is cut, bleeding. His nose is throbbing, swollen. His face is streaming with blood. The Guy cuts his losses and steps back. He looks over at his friend, swaying on the side of the street, disbelieving what he’s seeing.

"You need to fuckin' chill out, dude," John says and hands the Guy a beer. He turns and heads home, finally, opening a beer for himself on the walk.

2. Saint Patrick's Day 2001. The Plan : to hit every bar between the 55 freeway and the Balboa Peninsula. Directions : begin at the Goat Hill Tavern and make your way down Newport Blvd, until it turns into Balboa Blvd and dead-ends at the ocean. Festivities begin at noon.

6pm : John and Rosey have been out all day, drinking in full force. By now they have made their way nearly to the end of Newport, but are too tired to make it to the final destination - The Class of ‘47.

John makes his way to the back of the bar, where the beat up old payphone hangs on the wall. He deposits his money and calls up a cab company. The connection was as poor as the dispatcher's English. After several minutes of "What?" "No, no, no… Newport" "Huh?" "My name is John" "What?!" "No… John" "Yes, uh huh… no, NEWPORT" "What?!!" John was getting a little flustered. Only exacerbating the situation was a drunkard behind him, wanting to use the phone. It started with the "c'mon man… I need to use the phone" and escalated to "hey you fucking asshole! I said I want to use the phone now!" John is normally a very patient guy, but he finally lost it when the guy walked up and yanked the receiver out of John's hand.

"You’re done now," the drunk guy snarled, mistaking John for the kind of guy who would back down when confronted.

John took the receiver back from the drunk guy and smashed him over the head with it. In true nerd style, he borrowed a quip from Whalon Smithers and said "It's for you" as he hit the guy over the head once more.

Drunk guy stood there and stared. Apparently, he himself was the kind of guy to back down. He watched John walk away and meet his cab out front, but never moved from the back hall of that bar.

8pm : now the whole gang is together at the '47. We are packed around a small table, crowded against the wall. The place is full of people. Literally, packed to the gills. John is shooting pool with an assorted bunch of people. The bar is busy and the pool tables are in constant demand, but seeing as it is a holiday, and 99% of us are drunk, everyone is sharing the tables. Impromptu teams have formed, I am sharing a pool cue with three strange men, one who barely speaks English.

The girl on John's team asks him for his help making her shot. She's been outwardly flirting with him since she spied him playing here. Her friendly eyes and girlish giggles have already made their way into purposefully-accidental bumps into each other. Ever the gentleman, he coaches her on her stance. He suggests that she hold the cue in a better grip with her right hand and just let it lightly rub across the fingers of her left hand. She giggles again and leans forward more. Everything that you ever wanted to know about her cleavage is now in full view. He then walks behind her and lines up her shot, while suggesting she widen her stance. She coos "you really think so? Spread like this?" I tell you folks, it was straight out of a movie. So, they play their game and the girl wanders off to the bar alone.

John has rejoined the group at the table and has just taken a seat when a thick guy with tattooed muscles flexing up and down his arms approaches the table. He stands there for a moment, waiting for John to notice him. When John finally turns to look, the guy grabs John around the throat "What the fuck are you doing over there with my girlfriend? You think you're funny, Mr. Tough Guy?" John is strangling and can’t breathe. His whole face is flushed, and the guys in our group are already on their feet, ready to make a move. But John doesn’t give the guy the satisfaction. He can't keep his face from turning red, but he refuses to choke, to give this guy any indication that he's winning. Instead, he looks the guy straight in the eye. Reaches up to the hand around his throat, grabs the thumb and twists backward. Everyone around cringed at the audible ‘pop’ as the bone dislocated from the socket.

The guy says "oh yeah? You think THAT is gonna stop me?" and uses his other hand to grab John again. John raises one eyebrow, reaches up… 'pop' again. The guy can no longer grab him, and is in a considerable amount of pain. He starts to yell and rant about how he’s gonna kill this guy over here… who the fuck breaks someone's thumbs?... this guy is DEAD! Can you hear him? DEAD!

We all look at each other, chug the last of our drinks and head out. The bartender stopping John on the way out, "you ok?" "I'm ok, I’m totally fine…" "Ok, then… See you Friday?"

Posted by giddygirlie at 5:43 PM | Permalink

This week I am starting a new piece to my website, a page with my Diet Tips. I am making a real effort to improve my health this year, so that I can be in pristine condition for surf season! Wooo!! Ok, sorry, I get a little excited 'bout summer. Anyway, I am a finicky eater and a bitchy person in general, and I figured that if I would eat it then ANYONE would like it.

I also wanted to thank Choppa for the blast from the past.... Oregon Trail. Oh man, I LOVED that game! Even back in the day with the Apple IIe, I rocked the house. As my homage to a dear friend and a kick ass game, I give you all this.

Sorry this post is so disjointed... my brain is really scrambled right now. I wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day! I hope that you spend time doing something that you love... watch TV, take a hot bath, rent a saucy movie, eat a chocolate cake, smooch a strange boy in a darkened bar.... whatever it is, take care everyone. xoxo

Posted by giddygirlie at 8:35 PM | Permalink

So, we open the patio door to alleviate the smoke house atmosphere and I ask him "you didn't use a pan? So it just fell on the coil?" As he nods his head slowly, like the total nerd that he is, and just then someone outside rides by and honks their bike horn. You know, that clown-car horn "whonka whonka". Timing was immaculate. We laughed like idiots for like 5 minutes straight.

After dinner, I am coiled up on the couch knitting and my foot starts to fall asleep. I stand up to adjust and am balancing on one leg, shaking my foot. "what are you doing?" "shake-shake-shakin' it like a polaroid picture" Someone across the street yells "woooooooo hooooooo!" like a teenage boy seeing his first boobie show. Seeing as how we're on the second floor, they couldn't have seen me... but I did a little curtsey and we laughed anyway.

Later, I ask him if he gave Evan* the Gushers that I bought just for him. He looks at me sheepishly and says "I thought they were for the whole family. I ate them." "All of them? There were like 10 packs in there" More sheepish grins. *sigh* "Ok, well then you guys can have the pirate candies that I made for my friends this weekend, since I forgot to mail them on Saturday. "Um, we ate those too" "ooookaaaay"

I apologize to everyone who is due a pirate treat or two or nine... I will remake as soon as I can. But, you see, they ate the white chocolate too! Argh! What the heck is wrong with these boys?! I have a new recipe for cherry flavored suckers... who's game? Email me your address... I want to try out the recipe this week and need human guinea pigs!

*Happy Birthday Evan (pictured at left)

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:25 PM | Permalink

So it's only fair that I give you some warning. I'm not gonna be around much in the next few days. You know how it goes... I've got big projects at work... that online class is eating up my lunch hour... and baby, sometimes I'll be working over time. It doesn't mean that I don't love you, and I don't want you to feel neglected. I promise to rush home to you every night. It might be late some nights, but I'll always be home. If you get tired and have to go to bed before me, that's ok. I'll just cuddle up around you when I get in. If you're not awake when I leave in the morning, I'll leave you a post-it note on the bathroom mirror... 'cause I love you.

I'm workin' hard to make a good future for us. Together. So I have to do this... hopefully, it won't take me away too much. But even when it does, I am always thinking of you.

All my love,

Mia

Posted by giddygirlie at 12:09 AM | Permalink

1.You are so incredible that people are clamoring to write your biography. I have been begging and pleading to be the one to write it and you have finally decided to let me do so. However, you want me to agree to use a title you've already chosen. It's important to you. You are convinced that it sums up your life quite nicely and will make the right kind of people want to delve into the book that is you. That title is . . .

No Fun Mia : the life of a realist who wanted to be an idealist

5. If I (or your friends, family, lost loves, readers, etc.) Googled your real name, what would we find? you or imposter yous? Is your name so unusual or secret that nothing would come up at all? And and if there are "other yous", what are they like? Would you be horrified by being mistaken for them? Explain.

It depends on how good of a Googler you are! My name is a mixture of the unusual and the very common, so depending on how you put it all together, you would get either 6,000 responses or just 6. There is very little of the "real" me out on the internet, mostly for the sake of my privacy, but I do leave little trails here and there, so that if someone were ever really determined to find me, they could. I had to try it once you asked, just to see... and I found some "other mes" who were not quite what I expected. I found a very religious, churchy me that liked to post on discussion boards and argue Christianity vs. Buddhism and I found a porn star who doesn't quite have the same name, but between her name and the name of her favorite co-star, you could find a library of hard core movies featuring "me". I wouldn't say that I would be horrified at being mistaken for any of them... at least not based on what I've seen. But I would think that anyone who was looking for either one of those people and found me, would be disappointed.
 

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:52 AM | Permalink

Rebecca Martinez has two heads - one of which will be removed
Stephanie & Rebecca are in fragile condition
a 14 year old girl in Brazil gave birth to conjoined boys who share a single body
...even in Egypt

Posted by giddygirlie at 5:15 PM | Permalink

Thank you to Spinning Jennie for this link! You, too, can make your own map of the states/countries that you have visited!

All the states in red are places that I have been... green are the ones where I have yet to go. If you live in any of these states, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd let me crash on your couch sometime. You know, so I can fill out the map?

Posted by giddygirlie at 4:57 PM | Permalink

www.giddygirlie.com/garagesale.htm

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:08 AM | Permalink

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:03 AM | Permalink

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:44 PM | Permalink

The site is up now : www.giddygirlie.com/garagesale.htm

Posted by giddygirlie at 2:34 PM | Permalink

This weekend was pretty fun, and, as always, action packed! Ryan's band played Saturday night and had a REALLY good show. If you have not ever experienced the Original Booty Burglars, let me tell you... you're missing out. Word of advice to the timid : don't stand next to Jerry Curl unless you're ready to get your booty burgled. And if you're scared of even the prospect of 'burgling' then you'd best hang out in the back.

I did another up-do with my hair... Ryan took a picture, but I got so washed out with the flash that I had to keep messing with the colors. For some reason, with any tone other than pink you can't see my nose or mouth - ?? Anyone with Photoshop experience may be able to tell me where I went wrong. I have linked to the orginal, unaltered picture here. I wanted to try and show you anyway... because, you know... you're all dying to know how I wore my hair. ;)

I also have updated my post below with a picture of the wrist cuffs. As you can see, they are Too Metal For One Hand!

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:15 AM | Permalink