Only interesting to me

Keith had to go back to work today, so I am womanning the farm by myself. Mollie is helping me by puking periodically. I think she ate something vile when she ran away on Tuesday evening. Yep, she scared the crap out of us by taking off into the woods just before dark. Did I mention the cougars and bears and coyotes we share the property with? Mollie is a city dog and has no idea that it is not safe to go tearing through the woods in the dark. I stood at the edge of the trees and cried out for her through my sobs for about 2 hours. She finally found her way back to us, and Keith carried her in the house and placed her directly in the bath tub. She was covered in mud and ticks and sticks. She had rolled in something that had been dead for a while and her back was covered in slimy grey matter. At least she was safe.

It's strange to be here, knowing that I will be living here soon, but it is not my home yet. I want to just get started settling in and find a job, but it's too soon for any of that yet.

Keith and I went ring shopping yesterday and I found myself a wedding band for $37! I couldn't believe it. The wedding plans are really shaping up, although it is going to be more expensive than we can really afford. Looks like I will have to find a job this summer while finishing up school.

Ramona and Beezus are doing well. They are getting rambunctious and love to jump up on Keith like a dog would.

Man, this post is boring. I forgot how to write.

Ladies and gents, I am now officially a farm girl. I am never coming back to Portland. Sorry Jess, you'll have to find a new roommate.

Before I came, Keith told me he had two surprise presents for me.

Meet Ramona and Beezus. (Ramona is black, Beezus is brown)


They are yearlings, and will be bred in the fall so that we can have milk next year. Ramona's family is apparently famous for their big titties, so we should be sittin' pretty next year. They are like two golden retrievers in that they are very attached to humans and want to sit on your lap all the time. They are like autistic twins in that they do everything in tandem and are smarter than is really necessary. They scream the haunting scream of a pubescent boy being murdered when you leave the barnyard. Keith is their god, and they worship him fervently. Whenever he walks up to the barnyard, they break into a run and nearly knock him over with exuberance.

In other news, I fainted while on a walk up the hill on Friday. I just keeled over for some reason. My pulse was all erratic and slow. I should probably get myself checked out.

Oh, right. Did I mention that I am in California for a week and a half? No? Well that's why I'm not posting more frequently. It's been eventful. More to come...

Names for Your Transgendered Baby.

Bag this

Oh HI there! No, I'm fine, just been busy, is all. You see, I get into these projects sometimes, and they turn me into a manic freak until I am done with them. For a while it was the earrings, then it was sewing hideous dresses and somewhat better looking handbags. Now I have moved on to sewing handbags out of vinyl. That's right my friends. Watch out Queen Bee* there's a new bag lady in town.





Oh, and finals. Been studying for final exams. And taking them.

And sending out wedding invitations. We had a leetle addressing party last night, which was fun, if a bit confusing. We got it all sorted out, and the invites are happily soaring to their destinations as we speak.

Mollie helped too.



*Your Highness, if you are reading this, I mean no disrespect. I love you, I want to own all of your merchandise.

High maintenance machine.

At the risk of turning this into a dog blog, I will speak for a moment about Mollie the Dog.
Mollie has never been in a serious romantic relationship. Up until now, I thought it was due to the fact that she is spayed: a huge turn off with the guys. Now I realize it is because she isn't very good at relationships. She is like the psycho girlfriend that you put up with for way too long back before you learned how to listen to your instincts.
If you leave her in the house by herself, you will come home to a veritable smorgaasbord of strewn garbage, defecation, and chewed tampons ground into the carpet.
Last night, I had the gall to take a bath without inviting her in to stand there and stare at me with her sad, sad eyes, while I tried to shave my legs. She exacted her revenge by carefully chewing up pieces of used tissue in Jess's room, leaving a neat little pile of snotty shreds on her carpet.
If she had opposable thumbs, she would call me over and over if I was out with my friends on a Saturday night.
She rests her head my knee whenever I sit down, and follows me from room to room. She gets all huffy and bored if I don't take her out and show her a good time at least once a day. She makes a fuss when I leave her in the car while I run errands. She wants to eat whatever I'm eating. She embarrasses me when company is over, and the girl just can't seem to keep her legs shut.



It doesn't make sense, but I can't get enough of her. We were meant to be together. You just wouldn't understand.

Photo of the week

Yawn
Originally uploaded by Awesome Joolie.

I miss summer

IMG_2573
Originally uploaded by soytyka.

Pathetic

Is it wrong that I want to fake my own death so that I can be home with her more often?

Hmmm...Satan?

Jess and I had a conversation the other day about Lent and fasting and why we put ourselves through it every year. In this country where everything is microwaveable and drive-through able, the concept of fasting and physical hardships is pretty foreign.

Some people feel that they have to "give up" something for Lent because they are giving back to Jesus for his sacrifice for us. Or they are doing it for God somehow. That's ridiculous. God doesn't need us to do anything for Him. He's good. He doesn't care whether or not we blog or eat chocolate. We sacrifice things during Lent for us. We do it for our own spiritual benefit.

So yeah, I'm fasting, and I love it and I hate it, and my intestines are very angry with me at the moment.

The walls in the women's bathrooms here at school are papered with flyers for "Get a photo taken of your aura" It costs 7 bucks. It must be worth the money. What do you do with a photo of your aura? Stick it on your fridge? Post it to Flickr? Put it on your Christmas card?

My counseling class is using possibly the worst textbook I have ever had to suffer through. The author has also published some awful poetry, and he begins each chapter with a selection from one of his several poetry books. He writes his poetry about his experiences as a counselor. He uses phrases like, "My role as a healing man" and "making breezes as I bobbingly pass" and "a child with a large cowlick"

Keith needs help

chicks3
Originally uploaded by keeef.

He has purchased 61 chicks. I think that's a little excessive. But they are cute. And they do have 85 acres to run around on.

You know he's the one when he saves your dog

Four things:

1) I got a call from the Gestapo today telling me that Mollie is not allowed to stay. I was flustered and tried to question his logic in allowing our neighbor to fuck up his apartment with his chain-smoking and general grossness, but not allow my very well behaved and clean dog to live in our clean and well-taken care of apartment. He wouldn't back down.

I called Keith at work, crying (I am not a cryer, usually, I don't know what came over me) and told him all about it. He was so sweet and kind and listened, even though I could tell he was busy and shouldn't be talking on the phone. He asked me in a very take charge/provider/protector tone to give me the landlord's number. I swear his voice got deeper. I gave it to him, and he said he would call me right back.

I have the most fantastic husband-to-be in the world. He somehow got the landlord to agree to come over and meet Mollie and reconsider.

The landlord just left, having been charmed by her adorableness, and she gets to stay! Kefir all around!

2) I watched Mad Hot Ballroom last night. It possesses cuteness in lethal doses. Rent it. You might die.

3) There was a woman walking down the street today who stopped in front of one of the houses and proceeded to rip out a branch from the bushes, do a little jig whilst hitting herself in the legs with said branch, drop it, and repeat the whole process. This literally happened over and over until the yard was covered with branches.

4) I took the girls I babysit to the park today. As we passed a tree stump, one of them asked why the tree had been cut down. I said I didn't know. She replied, "George Bush cuts down a lot of trees. Yeah, he's not very smart"

Tee hee

onegoodmove: Not Concerned Redux

The Bloodbath continues

Need any blood for your ritual sacrifices? Are you a vampire searching for a constant source of sustenance? Gimme a call. The dog, she has an issue of blood only Jesus can heal.

Speaking of All Things Holy, I interviewed a potential wedding officiant yesterday. We met at Stumptown Coffee. We each sat at our own table for about 20 minutes, searching the eyes of everyone who walked in the door until we realized we were sitting five feet from one another. He is one of those people who advertises on wedding websites, "Custom weddings! Jewish, Civil, Christian, Whatever! Gimme a Call!" I don't know why I was thinking this guy would have any kind of integrity/concrete beliefs. I asked him if he had a congregation or anything and he replied that yes, he has a congregation of ten people who meet at his house once per month. When asked what it was exactly they believed or practiced, he looked at me kind of strangely and said, "Well, we are mostly reality based, with loose, quasi-Christian undertones, and we just like to check in and...you know...be present with one another." Right. Don't call us, we'll call you.

Edited to add:
I forgot about some more interestingness that happened yesterday morning. On my way to Stumptown, I noticed a barista guy running down the street yelling, "Wait! You've got our duuuck!!" Hmm. I went on my way. About ten minutes later, I was waiting for Reverend Reality when in comes the barista, sweaty and panting, triumphantly holding a decoy hunting duck attached to a key. Apparently a woman had used the bathroom with the key (attached to the duck) and walked out the door with it. She made it several blocks away, not noticing the barista screaming at her, and more importantly, not noticing the LIFE SIZED DUCK in her hand. Some people really aren't awake until they get their coffee.