It's a happy enchilada

Either I am the messiest person on the planet (this seems unlikely) or I am one of the worst cleaning ladies ever to attempt to organize a 600 sq ft space. The latter seems more likely.
There is no logical reason why it should take 6 hours to clean a closet and a living room. And yet it has. Then at hour 6 I grew weary of the task and I created a bunch of piles of crap and sat down to be a big lump of a girl.
Tomorrow maybe I will finish the bedroom (definately the easiest room to clean-if yr able to work around the inanimate dog--who despite having no vim or vigor still gets cranky when I run the vacuum in his vicinity and ate a half pound of hamburger today.
I'm looking forward to going home. Maybe I'll even head out on Tuesday-tho Wednesday seems like the better option I'd like to be home sooner rather than later...Y'know til I'm there---then I'll be thinking about all the fun I could be having in East Nashvegas. That's the way that the world goes round.
Is it easier to clean more space than less? Perhaps I should buy a house and create a "catch all room" that sounds like something I would do.
I keep finding more CDs. I think my apartment is a breding ground for independently produced CDs by sensitive singer songwriters with long wavy sandy hair and mournful eyes--I own approx. 7 billion discs fitting this description.

This shit should be illegal...but it isn't....so here it is...

You are Dr. Lilith Sternin-Crane. Some people say
you don't have a sense of humor. But they're
merely compensating for their own fears of
inadequacy brought on by a lack of education.


Which Cheers Character Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

and since I truly have nothing like a life I took another quiz and got this


You are Lilith Sternin
Two words: Lighten Up! Your ass is so tight that
you could not stick a hairpin past your cheek.
Let your hair down and just relax because
things will be alright. Also, you could use
some inflection in your voice occasionally.


What Cheers character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Okay-one more time...this is so worthless...well, luckily there's no other worthless option---there are no other quizzes that are written in a level of undersatnding of the English language that is in line with minimal comprehension. Some of those teeny boppers on Quizilla need to get out more-or occassionally. And for me to say that-that's just deeply sad.
So unbelievably pitiful.

got some skeletons in my closet and I don't know if no one knows it. So before they thrown me inside my coffin and close it, I'ma expose it

Wow---that title's a stretch...I can't think of too many songs that reference cleaning...Something might come to me whilst typing but I'm sticking with the Eminem reference anyway.

I remain concerned about my hound dog. But I also am well aware that---and I've been reminded by EVERYONE---that he's 84+ years old and that really isn't a party age. He gets up-he pees, does his sinful doggie business-we go on slow meandering walks-he eats a little-he sleeps 22 1/2 hours a day. So-I am suspecting that he may not have long to be around but he is VERY elderly and he has done more in his dog life than a lot of people do in their people lives. He's been all around the Northeast--South--and MidWest portions of the country. He's lived in 3 states. Sadly-it looks like he will never see the Pacific Ocean...But then I've never seen the Pacific Ocean either and I've been on the planet 17 years longer than he has. That's depressing-I need to go to California or something soon to fix that. Before I'm thirty. Or there abouts.
Didn't work today-but I did attack the nightmarish hell task of cleaning my apartment. The kitchen took 5 hours. And I didn't even get to the closet. I would be working still but the freezer is in the process of being defrosted...and quite honestly-while Erma Bombeck may have had a "catch all drawer" I have a "catch all closet" where I've been throwing random items since before the semester began and it's gotten a little terrifying.
I've thrown away two bags of trash and the cupboards are quite orderly at least for today...I had no fewer than 4 (3 opened, 1 unopened) bottles of bourbon. It would seem I loves me some bourbon. Fear not tho-I created a triple blended bottle that will surely not last thru the weekend so I'll only have the new bottle. (And it would be nice if I can manage to keep it new so as to have that as a good buddy to spend the Christmas holiday with--especially since in KY bourbon is practically free and every bleeding town has their own distillery-but that long ass haul from Killpeopleburg, KY to the Booze and Bait must be damn expensive cuz it's about twice as much in Portage Lakes)
As much as I think that I should maybe do some shopping for Christmas (oh-and did anyone catch the "checking in with Stephen Colbert" portion of the Daily Show last night when Stephen was all:
"Merry Christmas Jon! A festival Christmas season to you! A joyous yule! A glorious Jesus day!"
Then Jon Stewart was like:
"Same to you Stephen."
Stephen: "This is killing you isn't it Jon? Eating you up inside?"
Jom: "Not really Stephen."
Then Stephen said something about Jon not being able to destroy the holiday season-which Bill O'Reilly who is the craziest man in America, clearly, has been saying is happening.
Jon: "Merry Christmas Stephen."
That was hilarious. The Daily Show and the Colbert Report are the best shows on TV hands down...I'm pretty sure I haven't stated that fact in, at least, two days--so I thought I should throw it in.
Here-case yr some kind of hater Colbert Nation if you don't laugh at this shit-you are not breathing and that is sad.

Was I saying something about my life? It's very un-newsworthy. Tomorrow I have to battle the rest of the apartment. I would love to think that I could be done tomorrow and spend Sunday doing shopping for Jesus Day but somehow I think that by the time I collapse to watch TV I will find myself facing at least one more room to contend with. Sucks to be me. Course-I did no housework all semester so two days doesn't seem like a major sacrifice.

Speaking of semester-B+ on my Folk Art paper on the parents (they think they're A+ parents and I agree, but I'm not that good a student so they are immortalized as a B+ paper...a paper with a hella lot of red ink on it-this I know because I watched it being graded...which is horrifying and distracting let me tell you.) BUT-I got an A on my "very well done" Folk Art final. (I am amused by this fact-since, as I may have stated previously, I was done WAY earlier than anyone else in class-hell, I waited around for close to 20 minutes and no one left the room---so I had to think I was a terrible student that sucked--turns out I'm just to the point. Yea me.) In CultCon the A- I carried all semester became a B, presumably because I bombed the final...such is life. I like Bs they're all round and pillowy...yeh-that's the ticket. I as of yet have no grade in Music. Since I think I did well I probably will get a B or lower and then I will be sad because all semester I thought I was going to have a higher than B average GPA--but that would be something working in my favor and that would never do.

So-this weekend I will do lots of fun housework and on Monday I might stop by work to make another 40 bucks so the $200 I was hoping for might approach $100 and I can give people gifts other than imitation gold toe socks from the Discount Sock Shop on Gallatin Pike. I think me and S are going out on Monday. Supposedly out of staters are coming into town on Tuesday and on Wednesday or Thursday depending on when I find myself ready I will head home.
Big fun. Lots of big fun for me.

lookin' back on where I was one year ago today-laughin at the shape I'm in now

the semester is over! over! not kinda over not almost over but o-fuckin-ver! Yea!
I have nothing to say that will indicate how I think I've done.
Even after talking to M I only kinda understand lineage husbandry and he explained it very succinctly-I think I may just be dense....or I just refuse to know certain things so as I don't become so esoteric as to be unpleasant to be around. That's it really-I'm just trying to remain accessible. My A in that class is probably an A no longer. Tho all agree for the person with nothing to present I had the best presentation. As we were talking about----you can only get as much information as your source is willing to provide and my source wouldn't provide shit. Stupid source.
AFAIK I didn't fail folk art but I also watched my term paper being graded and a fucking lot of red ink made its way to that paper---red ink is usually not good at all. Maybe this is the exception---please? Can I have an exception? I only want a B-B's rule if you ask me that's above average. I didn't shirk my responsibility-I just maybe didn't do my best work. Or maybe I did and he couldn't say enough about how great I am. Or--and I hope this is the case--something in the middle happened.
Fuckin' A-I'm in a graduating class of 4-no prof in his/her right mind is going to flunk me---a graduating class of 3 just looks like a program beggin to cease to be.
Besides-I work my ass off----I just don't have a lot to work with.

Oh WELL

School's out for winter!
School's blown to pieces!
School's out for 3 weeks!

Baxter is old and has a heart problem that I have some meds to deal with but I'mgoing to see how he reacts to Omega 3s and flax seed and excercise and stuff like that before I accept that he needs $80 worth of medication a month. I love my dog-but I don't have $80 to spend on anything...that sounds awful but he's 85 at least. If I was that age I wonder if I would want expensive measures or just lots of steak to make me happy?

He is such a hound that dog. Nothin' but a hound dog is Baxter.

That motherfucker is crazy

thoughts that need to be said...
Denis Leary is so damn sexy he needs a permit. That intellectual, cynical, snarly sexuality that oozes from the pores of someone with experience and nothing to prove. He's that kind of sexy. I find having no pretense of being anything but really the person you want people to see and who you believe yourself to be really damn attractive.
Richard Pryor was a fuckin' funny man-and dirty! Lord! That any of his routines can be played on TV is surprising---even all this time later...and how twisted-so dark and real and hard to face and at the same time hilarious---damn who does that now? What does a person have to do to be that OUT THERE today? Cuz I tell ya there's nothing to do that hasn't already been done. By someone like Richard Pryor-or Lenny Bruce-or George Carlin...or Bill Hicks or Denis Leary...
Jon Stewart needs his own channel...the all liberal Jew comedy station...he's so awesome---I want to have him over to my ridiculously small apartment to watch CSPAN and eat pizza and talk about how funny it would be if we had some weed. Maybe he'd bring Denis Leary---they have to know each other-they did that Cam Neeley thing a few years in a row together...maybe Lewis Black can come too
Ann sez Bax had a fever today and if she'd been able to get ahold of me she would've taken him to the vet herself--so we have to go to the vet tomorrow. Hopefully the old man just needs some antibiotics or something fun like that. Dogs love pills you know.

beating my reatreat-back to you

2 finals down.
If I'd had Erika's class in my first semester I never would've been as horribly bitter and full of no joy as I was...that was the most fun I've ever had taking a final...while that may not seem like a big vote of confidence it really is saying something as it was quite a bit of fun.
Actual exam questions-(abridged)
1) describe teh impact of one of 5 way important musical types (ex. Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Bill Munroe)
2) You have a radio show-it's an hour long-program it in 4 blocks with each block dedicated to a particular genre
3) an actual question involving some thought--explain the importance of one of these instruments (guitar, banjo, mandolin, etc) to American music
4) you have $90 to spend on music, what would you buy based on what we read about/talked about in class
This was truly this greatest exam ever. I got to apply knowledge and I got to program a radio show----I should totally do that in my spare time. Or at least make a mix tape or something resembling useful.
Then I had the cultcon final and it wasn't as fun. It didn't make me want to sit in the dark and listen to nothing but Townes Van Zandt's most wrist slitting hits but I have been happier with a performance...what the fuck is lineage husbandry and why does anyone care?
Home and Baxter is not lively--except when we go for walks then after we've been out a bit he steps lively. He has no problem eating-he's put away a bowl of dog food, a half pound of burger, a lot of ham and some butter beans today. He doesn't do steps well-so I gave him so bufferin. My landlady stopped in to check on him today and left a note saying he should go to the vet that he's not well. But I can't take him tomorrow because of school so I have to hope he gets to feeling better (he's better today than he was yesterday-a little) and we don't have to go thru that.
Why does my dog have to be so old?

Girl, you ain't gettin' no younger....

This morning I had to go stand on the dole line. I can't decide who is living life all wrong me-with a 15/20 hour a week job that barely brings in enough per month to pay my phone bills and 3/4 of a graduate- in folk studies of all lucrative ideas -degree done or the 18 year old with a GED, no husband, 2 kids and another on the way. Whoever's in the wrong we were both on the line this morning-screaming babies, bitching women and men that look like they might go for a leisurely stroll along the train tracks at 4:15. It is truly one of the most depressing things I've lived through. But I won't have to go back for 6 months. It's amazing how fast that time passes.
Then I went to work. Two hours later I was home.
Baxter didn't greet me at the door.
He was standing up on the bed and when I said "Boy, get on down." He didn't. Not like him. Then he was watching me eat and I tossed a potato at him. He jumped up to catch it and his back legs fell out from under him. That ripped me up. I'd been ok with finals and the meeting and stress and everything like that but when Bax fell I did too. He scared the hell out of me. I called Mum sobbing "Something's the matter with Baxter!" She talked to me and told me that he's an old dog and everything like that...I was a mess-I couldn't even think straight I was so horrified at the idea of what Baxter not his usual self could mean. Ma said I should go to Kroger and get some burger and fry it up with some rice because that's good for dogs that're feeling poorly.
So I did. About a half pound of burger and a cup at least of rice. I dished it out for Baxter. He ate it up and gave me a look. So I gave him the rest of it. And he finished that...Then he was heard nosing around on the stove to see if there was more meat...
The question I have is---is Baxter feeling bad and really getting very old all of a sudden---or is he a conniving so and so? Or is he a conniving so and so that's getting all old and tired? I don't know. But he ate-and he's happy. And I feel really bad, because crying drains me of any energy reserves I might have (it's not much I can tell you). I feel like I've been run over by a truck...That dog means that much to me...It's going to be hard I know---it's hard now and he's just less than himself...goddammit.

29- you'd think I'd know better ...livin' like a kid

It's 1:26 in the afternoon on the first full day of the last year of my twenties. I'm fighting the residuals of the celebration last night. Wondering if I should just hit the bottle now and call the day a wash but sure it seems like I might want to spend at least a couple hours battling the books before I fall into the bourbon and watch Christmas specials.

How I spent my birthday-an essay

Thursday night T gave me and S $40 to go party. They wanted me to be able to get wasted and take a cab home but we were uptown and I didn't want to have most of my birthday money spent on cab fare so I just didn't get too drunk. Plus I had to go to the all night grocery store to buy wings for Friday. I had a dozen oysters and fried pickles and drank pale ale the bartender sent a birthday shot--all I know is it was bright red.
Friday morning after having stated that I wouldn't be in to work I waited for my cousin and her SO to arrive, which they did near the noon hour. We went downtown and had pizza and coffee and I showed the the sight. Playing tour guide is fun. We walked in the cold through the city, I showed them the honky tonks and the Ryman, they don't like country music and didn't rush to the alley just to imagine Johnny Cash stumbling, wrecked on booze and high on pills from the stage door towards the backdoor of Tootsie's or to Ernest's Tubbs to pretend Loretta Lynn was still singing on the Midnight Jamboree...We had coffee and a trendy cafe after pizza for lunch and then we party ways. They were in to see a concert that would've been fun but I had an appearance to make in Kentucky. Being the fool that I am I thought it would only be an appearance. Eat and out baby...I was thinking it'd be eat and out.
Only took me two turns around to find the house, the directions were fine, I'm just not the best at taking them. My arrival was well timed. I sat my food on the table, took to the cider and the mingling. Then came the Scotch and beer. Next thing I'm plinking melodies out on the piano with all skill of a person that can't play. Luckily there is no video of my pitiful attempt at playing Heart and Soul---who the hell can't play Heart and Soul? Me. That's who. And around then my appearance became the last to leave...well cept for them what would become my hosts for the rest of the evening.
There I was just feeling I shouldn't drive to Nashville...not incoherent and not launching into My Wild Irish Rose but not in a state to drive to Nashville. And there in Nashville were two guests from out of town expecting to find me at my apartment. But, the responsible thing was to sober up...sobering up that would happen eventually...like the next morning...when the scotch had been cleaned up and the bourbon was barely enough to flavor a coffee. Being a responsible adult-but an awful host-I called my guests and gave them clear instructions as to the location of the key and the sheets and that I felt terrible but I didn't think I would be benefitted by making the 70 mile drive home. Their response? Okay, we'll be fine. They're really cool people-how nice to have cool family...they weren't pissed (something I feared-tho in a way isn't it just kind of nice to be given run of a house...cept my house comes with a dog) C said today "It's not like you were all incoherent and you drunk dialed me slurring and a mess..." I try to refrain from drunk dialing people, even those that stay at my house.
The evening wore on in BG watching videos on the computer and eating meat sticks (something doesn't sound good at all when yr sober-now that I think about it--meat sticks? ew.)--if that's not a way to wind down a prolonged birthday party I don't know what is...sitting around a table raising glasses and telling stories until we all simultaneously lost our will to be awake and I was directed to a guest room where I suppose I must've slept because the sun was coming through the window and I felt the way a person would feel after a night of eating too much pot luck supper and being in a state that would allow for thinking too hard about R Kelly.
So that's my birthday celebration. It was good times...weird times because folklorist get togethers lead to drunk folklorists which lead to everyone looking at each other with just a little too much insight the next time paths cross.
***********************************

Usually I refrain from this sort of thing but it's appropriate here

{Obligatory relevant song lyric behind the cut}
Twenty-Nine by the Gin Blossoms


Author's's note: I've been trying to post this for over 24 hours. Stupid Blogger.

There's nothin' you can do that can't be done

"There is no love in Akron, Ohio."
"Then we should go and spread some."

"Like Johnny boy said, all you need is love."

Here's to you Johnny- I miss you and all you were never able to say. I was four years old when you were struck down...a little innocent brown eyed girl with no idea about the world. I just remember mommy and daddy were sad when the news came on the radio. We were in a car in West Virginia...that's all I remember...sitting in the backseat of a car watching my parents over the seat in the cold December morning of my 4th birthday....A few years later Daddy said one day I would see that the Beatles were the greatest band of all time--I thought he was tormenting me but I see it was so true. It's one of those things that don't seem sensible until the fact is insurmountable and unavoidable....they were.
All the places I have lived I've had a picture of John Lennon. A picture I ripped out of a Rolling Stone over a decade ago...The Legacy..Just a frame from the dollar store and a magazine picture...it's the only thing I've never not had in every place I've lived...except for Baxter...

all you need is love
all you need is love
all you need is love
love
love is all you need
love is all you need

Never mind the bullocks-It's the end of the term

"The Sharper Image catalog is the only place I shop. That and SkyMall."--my hero, Stephen Colbert.

Over the weekend I had no fun. None. Not a lick. Me and fun didn't even inhabit the same zip code. But I wrote 2 papers. They won't be winning any awards at the Graduate Student Really Great Paper Awards Conference but I probably won't have to commit hari kari due to having brought shame to my family either. probably...ya never can tell. If I fail out I'll just become one of that bums that beg for money outside of the large banks in downtown...I hear they make more than I do anyway. Tho that might be neoCon propaganda---if I flunk out of Folk fuckin Studies then I really have nothing to lose and might as well go find out if it's true or not.

I just learned I was born in the same week (not year) as Prohibition ended. That's awesome...I'll have to have a drink to celebrate. Course, I've already got plans to go on a three day birthday-a-thon starting Thursday (happy hour with S) and then Friday (super ultra mega fun birthday celebration extraordinary good with folklorists) and Saturday (sullenly drinking alone at 3 Crow sobbing into my beer that I'm 29 and without someone to love or even for the love of God more than 2 dates in the last decade and facing another New Years without a date and this time at a wedding for a much younger relative and no one seems to see how painful this is---I will do my best to refrain from slitting my wrists.) Somehow I suspect I will enjoy Thursday and Friday more than Saturday....But I have birthday money---yea me, Billy Joel box set--mine! Huzzah! And kudos!