bunnies!


003:365@42
Originally uploaded by the*redhead
and snowmen, too!

I totally forgot about the "blog this" option on flickr. It's awesome. So now I'm catching up on posting these first few entries from my 365.

Huzzah!
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fireball


002:365@42
Originally uploaded by the*redhead
I could write something here. Something profound and meaningful. Something insightful and compelling. Something revealing.

Instead I'm just using adjectives.
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@42


001:365@42
Originally uploaded by the*redhead
I started a new 365 project. I might be insane, or I might just be really ready this time. I have no expectations, and nothing to prove. Except that I can finish.
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you may call me Crash


you may call me Crash
Originally uploaded by the*redhead
In my defense, I was not driving when the truck was parked. We pulled up in front of the house, and I did notice the hydrant, but then immediately forgot about it. I sat in the truck while R did his thing (he was looking at and then test-driving a donor car for my Triumph). When he got back, he told me he was buying the car, which meant I'd be driving the truck to his house. No problem.

The place where the truck was parked was in a wide spot on the side of the road. I did have to get out of the truck and walk around to the other side - and get the keys from him because they were in his pocket - but the hydrant didn't even register. I got in, started the truck, put it in 1st gear, and started to take off.

The truck is sort of not my favorite thing to drive. I am more than proficient at driving a stick shift, but I don't like it much. And when I drive the truck after a while of not driving it, it’s always a little frustrating because the clutch’s catch-point is so far up that I end up revving the engine too much before it catches.

So, there I was, revving the engine, trying not to kill it, and I wasn’t getting anywhere, so I kind of just let the clutch go. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, as the road ahead of me seemed totally clear. But then I came to an abrupt halt. Then I backed up. As I was backing up, the first thing that came into view was the hydrant. Then I noticed that there was a railroad tie in front of the hydrant. I thought to myself, “ok – I hit the railroad tie. That’s smart – someone must have hit the hydrant before, so they put the railroad tie there to stop idiots from running into the hydrant. Good idea. No harm, no foul.”

I proceeded to pull out into the road, drive down a little ways and do a u-turn, then caught up with R, who was waiting for me, and we went on our way. He was driving the new car, and it’s low-ish, so I figured that if I HAD hit the hydrant, he’d see the messed up bumper in his rear-view and say something. He didn’t call or anything, so I got even more convinced that I hadn’t hit the hydrant.

I followed him for about 5 miles, with some traffic here and there, but for the most part I was right behind him the entire way. When we made one of the last turns before the freeway onramp, I got in the lane next to him, and was going past him when he looked over and kind of did a double-take. I thought it was odd, but had already forgotten about my concerns. Then he pulled up and motioned me to pull over. I swear, I honestly thought that he was having problems with the new car.

When we stopped, he came to the window with this wide-eyed look on his face and said, “What Happened!?!” My response was, “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”. Seriously.

I got out of the truck, looked at the bumper, and said, “Oh, shit. I guess I did hit the hydrant after all.”

For about 10 seconds, the range of emotions that crossed his face was scary. I thought he was going to be mad, which made me panic, and I started to cry. Which made him laugh. Which made me cry harder. Which made him hug me and laugh harder. I totally love that man.

I felt terrible, and still do, and he’s now looking for replacement parts.

And now you know.
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fast woman, fast car



It's mine. :)

1973 Triumph Spitfire. Removable hard top.

It's currently a basket case, and I can't wait to get started on it. R has been thinking and re-thinking the engine and transmission and ... everything. He spent a good part of Saturday afternoon online looking at independent front suspension (pop that into Google and see what comes up. It's amusing) and engines and blowers and all kinds of crap I have no idea what to do with. I'm going to be a part of the project, even if it's only to pour drinks and hand him tools.

I've learned enough about how he works to know two things for sure:
1. He will build and rebuild this car over and over again until he comes to a final decision. I will hear about all of the iterations. I will not get attached to any of what he says, because it's subject to change without notice. When he acutally buys the engine, I might start to get invested, but with the knowledge that it's entirely possible that it's going to change again. I'm totally ok with this process.
2. I know the signs that point to when he needs to be left alone, and when he wants me to be involved. I have volwed (to myself) that I will not push the issue when it's time to back off, and I will help with no expectations when it's time for me to be involved.

This should be fun, no matter what happens.

Yay!
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this is me, remaining calm


OK. I will openly admit to being irresponsible with money. It’s a long-standing problem that I swear I’m working on. I am so much better now than I used to be. Really. I have never been the girl with the balanced checkbook, but not for lack of (failed) attempts.

I have an application on my iDevice that is essentially a check register. I can schedule recurring items, and I try to keep track of all of my debit card maneuvers, but it’s not foolproof. The problem is that if I don’t write it down the moment it happens, I forget to do it. Then there’s the stupid little shit that I forget about every. fucking. month. Like the damn SuperPoke Premium bullshit that I thought was going to be so much fun on Facebook. That $4.99 each month was not only wasted, it also fucked up my account balance more than once. And that’s another problem – I live so close to overdrawn the week before my next paycheck that even five bucks can make or break my life.

So, yesterday when I deposited my first paycheck from my new employer, my account was overdrawn by about $150. The majority of that balance was because I forgot about a check I wrote for Kierstin’s book order from school, so a bunch of small transactions from Starbucks and Safeway and the like caused me to have multiple overdraft charges. At thirty-five bucks a pop, that shit gets expensive in a big, fat hurry.

The policy at BofA is apparently that if your account is overdrawn and you deposit a check – the same does not hold true for direct deposit, mind you – they hold the funds for two business days, with the exception of $100 that they release out of the goodness of their hearts. I’m not a math major, but negative 150 plus 100 still leaves a negative number. So their hundred bucks is so very much NOT useful, and the account remains overdrawn. So, there I sat with a hold on my money until 5:00pm on Friday night.

I fully understand that this is MY fault. I’m not blaming anyone else – I’m irresponsible, and forgetful, and I have issues that I’m all too aware of. But would it not be so much more helpful if they could release, say… another couple of hundred bucks so that the account is not in the red?

I went into the branch this morning, after looking at my account balance online and seeing that they had charged me yet another $35 “extended overdraft charge”, so that puts me at -$85 now. Stellar. So I spoke with the branch manager and explained the situation and asked if they could please release another couple of hundred dollars so that I might be able to put gas in my car, and pay to get my car out of the parking garage this evening. She did so, which is the nice part of this story, but when she showed me the screen detailing what she had done, I noticed that the new hold date was set for 4/12. That would be … three days longer than the original hold. Um… huh? So, I asked why the hold date was another three days. I asked calmly, I swear. I will fully admit it when I get all snotty or nasty or whatever, but I was totally calm. I could have been categorized as confused, for certain. But not hyper or bitchy or anything else. I swear. So, she says to me, “you need to calm down, it’s just a date the system puts in”.

There is no surer way to piss me right the fuck off in an immediate and biblical fashion than to tell me to calm down when I’m being perfectly calm.
I stared at her for a couple of seconds, took a deep breath, and said (very calmly, I might add): “Lady, this IS me being calm. I asked a perfectly reasonable question, and you telling me to calm down when I AM completely calm is the absolute best way to make me anything BUT calm. You won’t like me very much if I decide against remaining calm right now.”

Blink.

Blink.

Then I smiled at her.

She stood there, stunned, then shook her head and informed me that she was going to call the small, local bank that the check was drawn on tomorrow and make sure that the check clears, which it absolutely should, and that she would personally make sure that the hold was cleared if it did.

Here’s where this story ends for now. But I’m telling you that if there’s some sort of problem that prevents her from following up with her promise, and my funds end up being held until Monday because of this, I’m going to go so colossally fucking batshit crazy in their lobby that they’re going to have to call security to shut me up.

Calm, indeed.
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25 random things


1. It's fucking loud in here all the time.
2. I can't even begin to imagine what my breath smells like right now. Based on the taste in my mouth, it can't be good.
3. How the fuck did I manage to get out of that ticket this morning?
4. MANGE!
5. If I believed in Hell, I'm pretty sure that's where I'd be going.
6. What am I going to wear to the wedding?
7. Why is my paycheck always gone 2 days after I get paid?
8. La la la la LAAAA!
9. Does anyone make anything for my lips that will last more than 4.5 seconds and keep them moist?
10. The scene with Mark Sloane and Teddy, with the chocolate on her spine? Made me wet.
11. Chicken little
12. What is Muse, and why do I have to listen to it second-hand?
13. I want a BBQ Chicken Chopped salad from CPK. Right NOW.
14. I'm wearing a green sweater.
15. Subterfuge is a great word.
16. There is a stapler within reach.
17. Tahoe
18. Based on the personas I've chosen for Firefox, one could draw the very correct conclusion that my favorite color is green.
19. Vodka therapy cures all mental defects.
20. This is what I want to be for Halloween this year.
21. Ahhh-CHOO! repeat.
22. I love a really dark, rich red color for most anything - toes, duvet covers, ball gowns.
23. Stop whistling. It's annoying me.
34. Graham Greene
25. Based on the number of times I've thought to myself, "shut up you fucking TWAT!" today, I think it's safe to say that I'm in a fairly foul mood.
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Yeah, I'm lookin' at you...


But only if you're my creative whateverthefuck.

Where did you go? And when are you coming back?

*Are* you coming back? Because I'd really like you to. I kind of miss you. A lot.

Please come back.

Love,

~me
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the D-word


Diet.

Ugh.

Just looking at the word up there makes me all sweaty and nervous. It's become a nasty, evil, horrible word over the years, mostly because it seems to be able to defeat me just by being there.

My weight has been an issue for me off and on for years. Growing up I was athletic - played volleyball and basketball in HS, then volleyball in college - and never had a weight problem. I had a carton of Hershey's chocolate milk and an old-fashioned donut every morning for breakfast. (God DAMN that sounds like heaven right about now). My point is that until I got pregnant with Madison, my weight didn't even register on my list of things to worry about.

I won't go into the gory details about weight gain during pregnancy. Let's just say that a week before I delivered, I weighed more than I ever had before, and I had gained over 70lbs during my pregnancy. After Mad was born, I lost about 40 lbs, but that was it. Then I got pregnant with Kierstin. I had gestational diabetes with her, and I was careful, but still gained about 30 lbs. And then kept them, for the most part. For the last 10 years.

I have been back and forth on the issue of my weight a lot in the last few years. When I'm happy, I tend to lose some and feel better, and when I'm not, I go the other direction. Since I left my husband in August '08, I've been mostly happy. I got on a health kick and lost about 35lbs and felt better. Then something happened that I didn't expect, and I found myself in a place where I actually started to love myself, fat and all, and I stopped worrying about it. And right now, as I type this, I can honestly say that I will still love myself no matter what the outcome of my latest adventure in weight loss turns out to be.

The issue is my health. I had to run for the bus the other day, and it took me so long to recover it was embarrassing. And a broken elevator caused me to have to walk up 3 flights of stairs a few weeks ago, and I though I was going to die. Which led me to start thinking about getting my ass on a treadmill or something again, and soon.

So... all this rambling is leading up to this: I'm on a diet. Right now. And I'm loving it and hating it at the same time. It's more than a little drastic in nature, but I need drastic in the beginning. Honestly. The better I do at the beginning, the more I want to stick with it. Then I start feeling better, and the good times keep rolling, and it gets easier and easier. And this time the goal is simply to get to a place where I can be comfortable with my weight and how I look and feel, and where I don't have to count every calorie or worry about everything I put in my mouth and whether or not it's on an express route to my ass or thighs.

Diet. It's not a bad word. It's a beginning. The plan is to follow the drastic diet for at least 25 days. Follow the plan, no cheating, and keep track of my progress. The plan calls for a specific means of cycling off of the plan, at which point my anemic list of food choices gets less anemic but still ... boring. Then the exercise begins in earnest.

At that point I'll decide whether or not to keep going in that mode. I may decide to try another round of the diet, which would be largely about weight loss and less about general health and fitness. We'll see. Either way, I feel like I'm making a positive choice. I have total support from Ralph, who is also doing the diet, and the girls are excited for me despite the fact that I've been kind of miserable for the last couple of days.

Wish me luck, friends. This is going to be interesting.
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yeah, whatever


maybe I should get back into writing here. my life is less than exciting these days, but at least it's something to do.

yeah... whatever.
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Ten Things


I found this list while perusing some old blog sites that I used to read regularly, and figured it was as good a place as any to start writing here again. Here goes:

Ten things I really liked when I was a teenager that I don't much care for now:
1. my ass
2. music videos
3. madonna
4. spectacularly wide belts
5. waterbeds
6. tight jeans
7. the beach
8. big hair
9. Dove soap
10. cassette tapes

Ten things I didn't much care for when I was a teenager that I really like now:
1. cream cheese
2. lip gloss
3. seafood
4. black clothing
5. processing film manually
6. my hair color
7. being tall
8. speaking in front of a group
9. protein bars
10. sex

Ten things I've never much cared for and very likely never will:
1. math
2. black licorice
3. wine
4. my stepfather
5. work
6. short hair (mine)
7. talking politics
8. my singing voice
9. piano lessons
10. tube socks

Ten things I've always really liked and very likely always will:
1. sarcasm
2. big words
3. volleyball
4. 80s music
5. tuna fish sandwiches
6. dogs
7. teddy bears
8. taking photographs
9. cursing
10. my boobs
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it's been a while...


Not that anyone is paying attention, really.

I'm here daily now, so I'll probably not be using this unless I feel the need to rant about something that I don't want my mother to know anything about.
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