This Week at Sprocket Ink

I had fun this week at Sprocket Ink. No hard hitting posts,  but maybe I can make you laugh a bit.

This week, go read:

New York IS Gay Marriage, Honey
As the New York Senate is stuck on the gay marriage vote, I had kinda assumed it was legal all along.

Cage Match: Saggy Pants vs Grape Smugglers
So yeah. A dude was kicked off a plane for wearing saggy pants. But wait until you see what kind of clothes US Airways does allow on their planes. You'll have to see it to believe it.

As always, thanks for reading and please comment on the site!

Dude. I totally fail this week. But please forgive me; it's been a hard week. I'll explain later when I have the energy.

Anywayyy, here's what I wrote this week at Sprocket Ink:

OPINION: Social Media, You Debauchery Enabler You
Weiner is not the first debaucherous politician, but he's certainly the first to get exposed on Twitter. My opinion on social media and politics.


John Edwards is Doing it Wrong
John Edwards' mug shots are released. No man, no matter how plastic, should look this happy in the slammer.

Thanks for reading!

Blogger Body: Inside the Padded Room

I asked my lovely friend and fictitious big sister to guest post for my week at Blogger Body Calendar.

And she really brought it.

This story hits me hard. Please go read and show her some love.

I'm a calendar girl

You got to read my Blogger Body Calendar post, now it gets even better.

My calendar girl interview is up today.

Go check it out yo!

Are you guys just frothing to see the calendar yet?

Hiatus

So after a lot of deliberating, I've decided to take a small hiatus from blogging.

It's just I'm at this weird point where I kind of hate the blog even though I love it so much.

But I resent the effect it has on me sometimes, how my self-expression can turn on me. When you let people so deeply in, they're bound to have opinions on things you're sensitive about. It's hard to take sometimes. It's a risk every blogger takes, but I'm too tired to brush it off right now. And the community and interaction is the best part of blogging. So maybe I just need to step back and figure out why I'm feeling this way.

Plus, I'm resentful of the time it sucks out of me. Which is hard! But I suck lately. I never respond to comments anymore and I hardly even get to other blogs, which makes me crazy.

I love writing and I love this blog, but if I don't take a break and get some perspective, I'm in danger of quitting it completely.

So I just need some clarity. Some time to step back and see what I need to change so that I can hang onto this space that I've worked so hard to create.

It won't be a long hiatus, maybe a couple of weeks. And I'll still link the posts for Blogger Body Calendar this week and my Sprocket Ink articles. And I may even share a photo or two that I love.

I know that I risk losing readership by doing this, but I'm hoping that you all stick it out anyway. Thanks for understanding.

Miss July for the win!

You may have heard that I get to be in the Blogger Body Calendar! Awyeah!

Plus? I'm Miss July. Awesome month. Double Awyeah!

Anyway, today my post is up over there. Please go read. It's emotional feely and shit.

Check back Wednesday for my interview and Friday for the bestest guest post from one of my good friends. 

Song Sunday: Snails

I love The Format. You should too. This song is four minutes of pure happiness.

'Nough said. Enjoy!

This Week at Sprocket Ink

This week at Sprocket Ink, I took on some doozies, lemmetellya.

This week, go read:

Sarah Palin, Meet Paul Revere
Sarah Palin clearly ditched fourth grade. And I pick on her for it. Nyah Nyah.

Psychic Says It, So It Must Be So
A Psychic reported a mass grave of 30 bodies in Texas. Police fall all over themselves hoping it's true.

Thanks for reading! If you leave comments over there, I promise to be your best friend!

The Saga of Jeté: Chapter 8

I've been in an extraordinarily bad mood the last two days. Have been in a spectacular funk. Stressed about every tiny thing, despite Hot Pants, who always puts me in an excellent mood. And I wasn't even going to write a post for today, was going to give myself the night off. But I finally realized what's making me all stressy and decided to write about it.

Jeté. My furbaby is getting near the end. And it's breaking my heart.

Her tumor is absolutely huge. She's my little Quasimodo. And I know she's got to be incredibly uncomfortable. Her skin is all dry now and I've been putting vaseline on her, which she hates.

I've yet to unpack all my boxes of books, so they're stacked up by my bedroom window. Well, she's created a little perch up there for herself where she can curl up and look out the window all day and night. She never comes down except to maybe get some water (but I know she's a little dehydrated) and I have to pick her up and take her to food.

She just sleeps all day, except when Hot Pants comes over, because she loooooves him. She climbs down and demands a cuddle. But the rest of the time, she doesn't move.

So I know she must not have much time left. I'm at that awful place where I have to decide when to let her go and I was supposed to have made end of life plans a long time ago so that I wouldn't have to worry about what to do when the time came. But I just couldn't bring myself to. So every day I put it off. Let the many stresses and business of my life take over instead.

Yet I have to do it. I have it. I can't let her suffer. But I don't know if I can let her go.

And my friends and I are going out of town this weekend and I realized that I'm super scared to leave her all alone. Who will make her eat or drink? What if she dies while I'm gone and I couldn't say goodbye? And I don't want her to have to die alone either.

I knew this was coming, but I just wasn't prepared for it. Plus holding it together just plain sucks.

Photo of the Day: Downtown Reflections

I love downtown Portland, especially on sunny days when you're not sure where the buildings end and sky begins.

Mr. Blue Eyes Hot Pants

I think it's about time I told ya'll about my new gentleman caller (snicker). Whom I'm still undecided on a nickname for. Right now it's between Mr. Blue Eyes and Hot Pants. Kinda leaning toward the latter, even though the former is just perfect.

I'm hopeful that by thus point I'm past the stage of jinxing it by talking about it. I hope. I'm not even that superstitious, but I've let several friends get me all nervous. So nervous I am. Also: Yoda apparently.

And YET! My afterglowy bliss trumps nerves right now. I can't even express the extent of bliss. It seems folly to be this happy this soon, but there it is anyway. It's unreal. It's a dream. It's too good to be true.

Neverthefuckingless, there's this attentive, smart, funny, sexy, great guy who thinks I'm awesome and it all seems to just fit. He keeps saying he's so lucky. "A lucky guy." I think his luck has nothing to do with it. It's my good karma finally kicking in. I've dated enough douchecanoes and guys who just didn't appreciate me, my karmic bank must be rich indeed. And I'm cashing in.

But dude. Dude. He appreciates me. I've told him it's not why I like him, but it's so fucking wonderful to be appreciated just as I am. It's so nice, so intoxicating to be with someone who is so effusive, who expresses his admiration so freely. I really can't get enough.

But, like I said, Mr. Blue Eyes Hot Pants is pretty fucking awesome and I know I'm the lucky girl here. I don't think he knows it. Knows how fucking awesome he is. All those things I said above? All true. I wouldn't lie. And I don't hand out praise undeservedly. So there you go. And I know he's reading this (Hi, Hot Pants.) so maybe he'll believe it.

We have such a fun time together, people. So much fun. And would you believe it? I never get sick of him. I said I'd tell him if I get claustrophobic and need space, but the ebb and flow of time we spend together has felt just right.

People? We so kick ass at the blissful moments. You think you've got the blissful moments? Well guess what? We beat you. Nobody does the blissful moments better than we do. Also? Spooning like no one else. 

And The Sex? Well I'll let you imagine. Hah! I'm such a tease.

There is one thing wrong with him, though. He hates the twenties. You heard me right. The twenties. How can anyone hate the twenties? Speakeasies, jazz, fashion? Gah! I love it all. If I could, I'd bob my hair and dance to old timey jazz forever.

I guess I can let it go. If he doesn't tease me for loving the twenties so.

Right?

I think I'll let him stay.

Miss Susie

“Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to Heaven, the steamboat went to...”

Pigtailed girls slap hands in perfect timing. Slap slap slap.

“Hello operator, please give me number nine and if you disconnect me, I'll paddle your...”

Little hands, dirty fingernails, slap slap slap in quick-paced rhythm, a soundtrack to the  playground cacophony. Slap slap slap.

“Behind the 'frigerator, there was a piece of glass. Miss Susie sat upon it and broke her little..”

Innocent voices know the naughty words by heart. Giggles syncopate between breaths. No mistakes are allowed,. Don’t mess up. Slap slap slap.

“Ask me no more questions, tell me no more lies. The boys are in the bathroom pulling up their flies...”

Standing in the bright sun on the concrete, LA Gears on our feet, chalk outlines beneath us, wrinkly hypercolor T-shirts moving with our little bodies. Slap slap slap.

“Miss Susie and her boyfriend are kissing in the D-A-R-K-D-A-R-K-D-A-R-K. DARK, DARK, DARK. Dark is like a movie, a movie's like a show, a show is like a TV screen and that is all I know.”

Collapsing in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Glances at the proctor, Miss Haskins, to see if she heard. Success!

Pigtailed girls pull themselves up, pushing bangs out of eyes, sitting cross-legged across from each other. Hands in position.

“Okay. Ready? Go!”

“Miss Susie had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Susie went to Heaven, the steamboat went to...”

 

This was a post for the RemembeRED prompt: This week, as the school year is wrapping up and we're on the cusp of summer, we've decided to go easy on you. We want to know what, from your childhood, do you still know by heart? Is it a story? A jump-roping song? The number of rungs on the ladder to your treehouse? How much money you had to save to buy something you really wanted?

Song Sunday: Rill Rill

I got to see Sleigh Bells in concert not long ago. Let me tell you, I kid not when I say they are rock stars. This chick is HA CHA HOT. Rocking lobster. I was having trouble describing the sound exactly and I think it's hard yet quirky, almost metal meets power pop. This song is the softest one they have and, in person, it's pounding hard and loud and bright as fuck. This old lady (moi) almost had a seizure. But it was rocking fo sho.

Anyway, this song is delicious. My fave I think. Pee to the ess? All that desert footage is so my home town. Not sure what that's a sign of but I'll take it.

Enjoy!

This Week at Sprocket Ink

Once again, I bring you some delicious words over at Sprocket Ink. Don't lie. You know you love it.

This week, go read:

A Poppy for My Pop
This Memorial Day, I remember the sacrifice my father and his fallen friends made overseas.

Feminine Products: Marketed by Penises
Have a happy period? Only when Midol comes with Prozac.

Thanks for reading! Please leave comments of the site and I'll be your best friend.

Photo of the Day: Sliver of Focus

Let's play a game. Can you find the tiny part of this photo that's in focus?

Also: don't you just want to have sex in all that bokeh? Yummy.

Random Thoughts of a Crazy Lady

I think I have a little writer's block. And a tried and true technique for me when I have writer's block is to write about writer's block.

Here's the thing, though. As I mentioned yesterday, I do have stuff I could write about, but I can't. And in comparison, nothing I can think of to write seems to get my fingers tapping. I can't get excited to write about anything.

Is that lame? Totally. Do I really mind? Not really.

It's not like I'm not busy. Though my freelance gig finally ended last Friday. I'll miss that money, but I'm excited to have 15 or so more hours a week to myself. I have just one job just like a normal person! Well, one job plus two websites to write for. Which I do to myself because I love it so. And like I could ever truly be normal. What is normal anyway?

Plus I've been busy, busy gallivanting around and acting like a teenager. Playing on playgrounds and making mix CDs. I gots to say: I don't hate it. More adults should do this stuff, because it's delicious.

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I've been busy with Blogger Body Calendar schtuff, getting my photos (which you don't get to see until the calendar is out! but I may share film I didn't use AFTER it's out) and writing my posts. That's so exciting and I'm overjoyed to be apart of it.

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Since everyone was guessing at my happiness tease post yesterday, I thought I'd make it fun. And how does everything get more fun? A GAME! AWYEAH!

Therefore, guess what's making me so happy:

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THIS! Is pretty damn cool: