Derby and String

Viva Las Vegas!

Well kids, after a 10 hour workday and eleventeen things shuffled off to other people, I'm ready to go.  Sort of.

I still have to pack, go to the bank, go buy socks (I don't have any that I would be OK to skate in and ruin), pick up MHP from day camp, ship teeshirts, make sure my head hasn't exploded and go crash at a friend's house.  Not necessarily in that order.

I'm ready to be in Vegas though - does that count? :)  See you kids in a week!

UPDATE - I have completed it all.  I am a superhero to myself, man.  I am currently crashing at my friend's house, which apparently does not include sleeping.  Barb-a-rella is supposedly going to do my hair....I don't think she's aware.  But the redness has grown out, and is now pink.  So I need more red.

ALSO!  Miss Kendra might (MIGHT!!) be staying with us in Vegas  this weekend!  WOOOT!!

Wish me luck - I just hope I don't wind up in the hospital....

Drown Me Slowly (rant ahead.)

It's kind of hard to get over a breakup when the other person seems to want to keep you around, until something else comes along. Yes, he actually told me that.

X (the jackass formerly known as TB) told me (over IM, tactful prick) that he just wanted to sleep with me until he could get someone else.  He also was lovely enough to offer his services until I found someone else.

I think he's trying to overcome a severe head injury.

However, it seems like I am as well, because every time I saw him (up until Wednesday night), my clothes seemed to fall off.  I've GOT to baste them a little tighter, methinks.

SO!  I've been operating under a few mistaken assumptions:

• We were on a break, and would revisit after my Vegas trip next week.  (Not that I WANTED to get back with him, because I did but I didn't and this is all a mess.)
• He was not sleeping with anyone else.
• He was being responsible IF he was sleeping with someone else.
• He would tell me if he slept with someone else.
• I was perfectly sane, and would not fall apart if I tried to walk away from him.

To make a long story short, all of the above are incorrect, and I'm in a world of hurt.  It's like trying to take a trip to Disneyland, only to get there find that the workers are all on strike, there's trash all over the ground, Mickey's standing around without his giant oversized head (and is smoking a cigar) and all of the rides are closed.

At least he had the balls to tell me the truth.  They're tiny little shriveled pea-sized balls, but he still has them.  And I hate them.  And him.  And I'm being very immature right now, but I DON'T CARE.

I'm better than I was yesterday, though.  Yesterday, I was a TOTAL disaster.  I tried to drive home Wednesday night after The Great Awakening (where my eyes were opened to the giant jackass X is) and I had to pull over twice to throw up, and once because I was sobbing so hard I couldn't see...and that general feeling of malaise continued on through last night, when one of MHP's camp buddies told him (in front of me) that I was the ugliest mommy he'd ever seen.

I'm being insulted by the kindergarten set, people.  I have hit a new low.

HOWEVER! I have come to the conclusion that from the low, I can only go up.  Right?  Right.  I'm right about this.  Yes.

So I leave Tuesday for Vegas. I almost cancelled, as I didn't feel like going and drinking excessively and trying to act like I'm OK (which I totally am. Not.) in front of a bunch of hard-ass girls that probably would have punched their ex in the nuts if he said half of the stuff to them that X said to me.

I've come to a very important and well thought-out conclusion though: fuck him. 

Fuck him and the fact that he never took me anywhere, and then tried to blame it on me and MHP and our "inflexible schedules".  And the fact that he teased me all the time.  And that he "didn't get the point of roller derby" and thinks I'm wasting my time with it.  And that he always made me feel fat or inferior or stupid or not good enough to even be in his mere presence.  And that he would give me grief about snoring, when I would lie awake in his bed, listening to him practically choke on his tongue.  And that he didn't see the point of marriage, since there was a tiny chance things would get better, and a giant chance that things would get a whole lot worse for him.  And that he was never on time, and didn't seem to know how to work his cell phone so I wasn't wasting my precious "kid-free" time waiting around for his pompous, over-inflated ego to show.  And that everything was always about him and what he wanted and which movies he wanted to see and whether or not I fit into his schedule of napping, playing on the computer, watching football and fixing his car.  And that he ignored Valentines' Day EVERY YEAR because he said it wasn't a real holiday, and plus it was only 2 days after my birthday, so he could combine them into one crappy present instead of two. 

Or that he never loved me, and only told me so to shut me up.  (I'm quoting his exact words.)

Fuck.

Him.

He's not allowed to run my life anymore.  I refuse to let him garner even a little bit of my time and energy (after I'm done with this) and I'm moving on.

I'm going to be a nun.  Anyone know any convents that allow piercings and tattoos?  And pink hair?

R-E-C-Y-C-L-E!

According to Napster, R-E-C-Y-C-L-E is actually a song.  Sung by someone named ZOLA! whom I have never heard of before.

OK!  So I am on a recycling kick.  I've been ripping up teeshirts and jeans and sweaters all over the place.  Don't worry, I'm only ripping up the store-bought sweaters.  I could never kill one of my own :)

SO!  I made a tote bag out of a wool sweater last night, and let me just tell you something:  don't do this while it is 800 degrees outside and 40 degrees hotter in your house.  Your face will turn purple, and your roommate will become very concerned that you are trying to commit some sort of wooly hari-kari with sweaters and a sewing machine.  It's bad when it's just too damned hot to knit.

I have made a pictorial of my tote-making-ness, but unfortunately, the Rusty Trusty NearSighted Blogger Cam ran out of the batteries before I could get a finished shot.  That, and I couldn't bear to have wool touch me anymore when I was done...so no modeled shot today, but since it's considerably cooler today...you'll get one tomorrow :)

(SIDE NOTE: I am using the Felted Tote Something or Other pattern from Alter Knits.  I love this book.)

So I started out with a Goodwill-bought wool sweater.  It was a Gap sweater - got it for $4 :)  I love thrift stores!  I thoroughly felted it in the washing machine, so now I know exactly what NOT to do with my sweaters.  (Dry-clean only, people.  I'm trying to convince my mother she needs to hand wash or dry clean her Socks That Rock.  She is not amused.)

Then, I cut the sweater.  This took a lot of praying and mental preparation on my part. I am NOT  good with scissors, and things end up all wonky.  I am thinking of starting a Scissors Impaired support group.  SO!  I took a deep breath and cut off a sleeve.

Then I cut off another sleeve and the collar.

Then I proceeded to use my newfound sewing machine skills to sew the bag  shut the wrong way.  :) I fixed it, don't worry. I've perfected my "fixing things I've fucked up" skills.

Now I have a really hot bag.  In all senses of the word.

Speaking of hot, I don't know if I told y'all, but I took a glassblowing class for a morale event for my work a couple of weeks ago.  It was very hot.  But I made some pretty things!  Mostly by myself, but not all the way! (As you can tell by the pitcher.  No way I made that without help.)

My contribution, in the interest of full disclosure, was blowing when told on a pipe to make the bubbles for the pieces.  I cannot rightly take claim for the  shaping or pretty much anything else. :)

Oh, and PS?  Went to a white trash party on Friday.  It was very fun, and it did not take a whole lot to make me look white trash.  Here is me and Barb again.

Yes, we are trouble.

They Call Me Mellow Yellow...

Wasn't there a soda called Mello Yellow back in the day?  Sort of a Mountain Dew rip-off if I recall correctly.  Anyway.  Every time I hear that Donovan song, it reminds me of this guy in the 7th grade at church camp who drank an entire case on a dare.  And I think he may have pinged off the walls for the rest of the week.

ANYWAY!  Look what I made!  I know, it's sort of hard to tell, what with my genius Annie Leibowitz-worthy still life, there.  It's a sunglasses pouch.  Made from the sleeve of a tee-shirt.  Leftover from another project.  Look at me!  I am RECYCLING! 

No, I am not crafty.  I simply follow directions.  Sort of.  And when I don't like the directions, I simply make some up.

FOR EXAMPLE: I did not like the directions this particular book had for making the drawstring area thing at the top.  (You know, the pouchy part you thread the drawstring through?  That part I used the hem on the sleeve.  Less sewing for me :)

Next up, I've got the 2nd package from the One Skein Swap!  My pal is SO creative with thecards.  I can't find the first one, (because my house has turned into the garage sale dumping ground) but this one is super awesome.

On the inside, she's written an entire poem.   A POEM, PEOPLE.  I can barely rhyme.  She wrote me a poem.  She rocks.

And, of course, she sent yarn.  A very cool fuzzy vintage-y thing that I have been petting for the last 2 days.  I have no idea what to do with it, but I HEART it. :)

And just to let y'all know who I'm going with to Vegas, everyone, meet Barb.  She is the coolest ever and I'm very excited to tear sh*t up with her.  We already hit Portland...now we're hitting Vegas.

Faster Kill Pussycat

Hey y'all...

I'm fine.  Not much to report at this time - still haven't really talked to TX, although I am going the extremely unheathly route and I'm helping him find a job with the company I'm currently with.  (I'm a nice person.  I have issues saying no when people ask me for help. Its a goddamned curse.)

Went to the bout on Saturday, and to the after-party.  Somehow, ended up babysitting the VERY drunk bouncer (he'd been sent off duty because of a giant fight that gave him a NOICE shiner..very purple.  Attractive.) for most of the night, and then I lost track of my friends and ended up sleeping on someone's floor.  No, it wasn't TX.  It was a friend.  Let's leave it at that.

Sunday was nice and quiet - cooked dinner at the parents' house. 

MHP is doing really well.  He's very into sharing and helping these days, and I'm trying to not discourage that.  He likes to help with pretty much everything, from tidying up clothes (I let him fold his own, and he's really good at it!!) to taking out the garbage, to making sure his lunch is made in the morning. He's a little man of the house!

Headed to Vegas for 6 days.  2 weeks from today I leave!  Hooray!!! It's a roller derby conference, so we'll be having a GRAND old time :)

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

My Chemical Romance is awesome.  I think the lyrics sort of fit me today.  Very much so.

It's the X.  He's dating again.  I don't know why this is such a big deal.  We've been split for 2 months.  He should date again.  He told me he was going to date again.

Yet here I am, pissed off and drinking.  (Mike-aritas and red wine, if you must know...) For some reason, this has thrown a wrench in to my "Yeah I'm OK!" -ness.  (I'm NOT O-FUCKING-KAY!!)  I should just calm the hell down, but I feel like my last nerve has frazzled.

And he told me in the shittiest way.  I have to admit, I've been talking to him lately.  I've been texting him every once in a while, and yes....I did bad things that a respectable girl shouldn't do if she's not dating a man anymore.  I had an itch, people.  It needed to be scratched.  And yes, I felt like crap afterwards, thanks.

I spoke to him about his date.  It was an awkward conversation at best, but I managed to make it all the way through without crying.  I even gave him some advice...and then the conversation turned.  He said "I'm even picking her up, I'm such a gentleman!"

Being as nice and as blunt as I possibly could, I told him I was shocked. That I couldn't remember what that was like anymore...I remember when we first started dating and he picked me up on his brother's harley for a ride, and took me shopping, and opened doors and held my hand, and on our first date when we sat on the sand at Alki Beach and watched the sun set....and how that had not happened in a long time.

There was a big pause. 

"We both stopped trying," I pointed out.  "You gave up for some reason, and I didn't see the point anymore.  And then we both just sort of were there.  And not being together didn't sound any fun, so we just floated around like some bloated corpse."  (Like my analogies?  I am super cool.)

So when I return from Vegas (in August), he's asked me out on a date.  Which I have not accepted yet, and will remain ambiguous on until probably I'm headed home from my trip.  I also have not spoken to him today.  Nor have I text-messaged him or IM'd him. 

Look at me!  I can manage to go a whole day without talking to my ex!  (Hey. This is a big accomplishment for me.)

*There has been a dramatic upturn in events.  THIS is an accurate representation of how I felt yesterday.

We don't need no fire...

I just finished reading a really great book...to try and get my mind off the fact that I miss TX like nobody's business.  (It doesn't help that I still talk to him.  I should just cut him off completely...)

The book was great in and of itself, but it also mentioned the Burning Man festival.  Wow - that sounds like my kind of event.

Has anyone ever been?  Known someone who's been?  Let me know if you know anything about it...

Ahhh...it's the beginning of a new fiscal year, and I cannot tell you how soothing it is to not be weighed down with the bulk of 94 expense reports.