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Karin Mitchell's books on Goodreads
Between Families Between Families
reviews: 5
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Where'd the monkeys in my hair go?

I promise I will post Wednesdays' Weirdos again next week, but the pictures for this week got trapped on my camera with a dead battery. Sorry. I suck.

Instead I'll tell you a drinking story.

We were in St. Louis visiting for the holidays and a rare opportunity to get annihilated with my girlfriends presented itself.

I started out with two beers while I was waiting for the girls with Rob's friends. Then, when we got to the fancy-pants bar I switched to whiskey on the rocks.

I'm at sea level so I think I can drink like a champ. Hmmm.

After about three of these and I-don't-remember-how-many shots, I switched back to beer. Damn, I'm bright.

At some point in the evening I realize that we're in a bar that used to be my favorite bar in the whole world. It was called Tangerine then. They had Go Go dancers on the bar and let you climb on it and had hand shaped chairs so your butt got held. They had trucker night where you got your drinks in mugs. They had a night where you could play horseshoes with toilet seats in the street tournament style. They gave you martinis with plastic monkeys in the drinks. It was a delightful place to spend my teens.

I realize this and immediately begin telling a guy on crutches how sad it is that you can't climb on the bar anymore.

He does not feel sorry for me. I notice why and convince him that I will teach him to ski.

Then I decide I must tell everyone in the bar, including people I went to high school with but who never spoke to me then, (they were smart and have gotten too nice in their old age,) all about the wonders that used to be Tangerine.

I think I'm saying, "This used to be my favorite bar. They had Go Go dancers on the bar and let you on it. They had trucker night where you got your drinks in mugs. They had a night where you could play horseshoes with toilet seats in the street tournament style. They gave you martinis with plastic monkeys in the drinks."

What I really said was, "they won't letmeonthebar. ash-0les. Could climb? Where monkeys? My hair had monkeys. You're so nice. I always think younice. I setyou up. Single? horshoes and toilet seats. Skiing's my favorite."

I got a friend request from one of them. I can't believe it. He really is a nice guy and always was, I was just really shy in high school. Weird, I know.

At some point, we left. I remember no valet, but apparently there was one. I could've exposed myself, or punched him in the nose, or promised him my first born and I'd have no idea.

I had established the goal before the whiskey, much like the cart before the horse thingy, never a good idea. I'd decided we should go to Uncle Bill's for breakfast by 4 or so a.m.

I'm spoiled by no smoking anywhere in doors in Colorado and this is a midwest breakfast place that's open 24/7 so its ventilated with extra smoke just to help keep nicotine levels high for folks. I wanted to vomit the whole time. It was rough.

So at some point I established an excuse to go to the car. Don't worry, I did not drive.

My excuse, which turned out to be true, was that I couldn't figure out what I'd done with my phone. Let me be more specific, my work phone. Realizing this would be bad, I went to check if it might be in the car.

I get to the parking lot. I look around. I realize I do not remember arriving. I realize I don't know what the car looks like. I am determined not to go back inside yet. Somehow there's some weird sense of pride in there.

Sooooo, I begin peering into windows, car after car, hoping the inside of one will look familiar.

Eventually one does.

I have keys in my hands.

I look at the keys.

I look at the door.

There is no slot for the key in the door that I see. There is no remote on the keys that I can operate. I pout and eye the ground thinking it looks like a good place to take a nap. But the car would be better.

I look at the keys.

I look at the car.

I think for a while.

No idea.

I walk back into Uncle Bills, set the keys in front of Christine, and say "I can't do it," and put my head down on the table.

Sometime later she takes pity on me and brings me to where Rob's staying and I pass out on the couch holding his hand.

I can't believe these people still talk to me.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Airport Impulses

Most of my airport impulses are mildly violent. Things like tipping over peoples' baggage while they're standing too close to me, or nudging them into the railing of the moving sidewalk as they speed along, or wanting to whack the flight attendant with my purse when she tells me it isn't far enough under the seat in front of me.

But sometimes I have silly impulses too.

I was in the bathroom and overheard this woman talking with her family. A younger relative was asking why she wasn't going to the bathroom.

"I have to stand here with our suitcases. You go ahead." came her response.

My Impulse

caped villain

*swinging door open in one swoop and covering my face with a cape*
"I'll watch your luggage!"
Booo-ah-ah-ah

Thank goodness for impulse control. For those who didn't realize I have any, I do. Ha.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Friday Quotes! Best of 2008 Part I

"When I got my DUI, there was a guy in my trunk. And my license was in the trunk too."

"Okay, so I got the pregnancy test and the vodka. We'll see which one wins."

"You want some of my snowcone?... its ridin' dirty..."

"I am French. I drink peeeeeee. I eat babies."

“You mean I just put my mouth on your cockpump?”

“You got egg nog on my nutmeg. I’m not sure what it means, but I want it to mean something. It should mean something dirty.”

"I wish it were a lamp that would glow electric sex in my front window, so that the crackwhore who walks around our neighborhood with her little 12-year-old kid who insists he’s collecting money for the “school basketball team” would see something besides the other end of my double barreled shotgun when she comes a knockin’ at 11pm tonight."


"You know what? Sometimes you've got to catch a few venereal diseases to find true love. "

(tosses pistachio into tumbler of whiskey) "Ha! I might get whiskey dick, but now you've got whiskey nut!"

"You and your sad broccoli can kiss my ass."

"Is it enough?"
"It'll have to be enough."
"I don't need your disaster movie ultimatums."

"How much sex do you have to have to have a queefing problem?"

"I love that you used the word Fiduciary."
"We're not going to use that word in this organization though right."
"We could have an accountant and call the person the fidouchebag."

"I don't want to hear about anything that makes me think about men's assholes. Especially anything that makes me think about them flapping in the wind. Seriously, if they're making that whheeeewwwwwww noise, yech."

"Just cuz you can do the robot to it, does not make it a good song."

"I've been arrested tons of times and I've never had a bad experience."

"You know who is a real maverick? A cat who can flush a toilet. That's loaded w/ maverickness."

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Shhhhh

I can't sleep
My mind won't
Sshhhhhh...
It flits
from problem to solution
thoughts' corpses pile up
ideas dismissed
and dead
to-do lists and inspirations alike
layered,
litter
the same
p
i
l
e
.
Some flicker so shortly
they're hardly formed
before miscarried away.
The best poems' lines
d r i f t by
in invisible ink.
They float off to dreams
to die,
beautiful thoughts stolen away.
The night nabs it all
Takes my broken to-do list
and why do I not shake its hand?
when I wake to a blank day,
why am I not grateful
when the clock crows
"Merry Christmas"
and the phone rings
says "I fixed your list!
It just needed some fleshing out
and more time."

Instead, I
stuff the pillow over my head
and look for the snooze button.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Happy Skiing

Yeah Presents!!!

Merry Playing

for blog 132

Why yes, yes I am a fantastic wife.


Feliz Navidad

for blog 115


AND HAPPY SKIING!!

for blog 136
(Aren't those the baddest ass, most sexiest skis you've ever SEEN!!!!)

Look how bad they want to be on my feet.

for blog 141

Yes, I am a snowtard.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Why I shouldn't go to state-run trainings

I'm just getting back from Adult Protection Services training. I do not have the attention span to sit still for more than about 8 minutes, unless I am reading a novel, playing the piano (wait that's not still,) or writing (also not sitting still.) Ok, so I can read, but that's it.

Instead I made pipe cleaner imaginary animals with the lady sitting next to me and thought of names for them.

This is Bjorn.

for blog 122

This is Romulus, his trusty steed.

for blog 123

Sadly, Bjorn's head was too big and heavy for him to ride Romulus.

So we made him Steve.

for blog 126

Steve is strong for his frame and has wings.



I tuned back in for a minute while we were discussion what to do with Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith is losing his appetite and is also losing weight as a result. His wife passed away 5 years ago and his social life has suffered. We were to come up with services.

"Our group wanted to get him meals on wheels."
"Maybe you could get him one meal a day at the senior center."
"But what if he doesn't want to go?"
Me- "I heard Ms. Johnson's a floozy."

What? It might get him there.

Note on the counter

There was a wind storm that knocked a 40 foot tree into our deck, taking down parts of the deck and gutters. It also took out the tomato plant we'd nursed through many summer frostings, carefully bringing it in at night, damnit. But that's beside the point. To do the work on our place, this guy, Rusty, borrowed our key.

Then he lost it.

He was sure he'd put it back, but hadn't. Then a couple of weeks after talking with our neighbor Tom about it, this note appeared on our counter along with our key.

Note from Rusty
(Here you go Rob, (and Mrs. Rob) It's just your key, but it looks like a present.)

It felt a little like a present too. It was way more exciting that just picking up our key from under the mat.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Poo Particles

When I was around 6, my cousin told me that whenever you smell something, it's tiny particles of that thing floating into your nostrils. So when you smell poop, or even farts, its actually poo particles floating into your nose.

I was pooping on the toilet at the time.

First I plugged my nose.
But then I was breathing through my mouth.
Ahhhh!!!! Shit in my mouth!!!!
I closed my mouth.
I tried to hold my breath.
Turning blue, I lifted my nightgown to cover my mouth and nose and breath.
I panted a little.


Then she said the particles are so small they can get through your nightgown.

So then for about 10 years I tried to hold my breath every time while going for a world's record in fastest crapper so it wouldn't get in my nose or my mouth.

Heaven forbid, she bring up this minutia while we're baking brownies. Twat.

Vibrant Yellow Ruffles

Fermented fallacies in vibrant yellows
a girl in pretty ruffles
barely chirps

a songbird caught in mechanical cogs
turns to squawking, words lost

songs/languages,
dyed and tinted
Verbs full of hues
a deaf ear rues

A linguist's careful calculations
pour volcanic lava explanations
geologist's calcitration

And somehow the seeds all die
and the notes have spoken
"Resurrect the warbler"
but the song's a lie.

Friday Quotes

"If I ran Disney World I’d make all the restaurants fill their hamburgers with glitter so later you’d actually poop glitter and it would be a magical surprise."

"You look funny with a beard cuz you're a lady."
"Maybe I could work for the circus. Or better yet, I could be Mrs. Santa's bearded sister."

"The next morning I groaned, “I feel like I stuffed a trash can up my vagina.""

"As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission."

"Maybe god put all the feces in their house."

"Vision! What do you know about my vision? My vision would turn you upside down, tear assunder your illusions and send the sanctuary of your own vision crashing down around you. Now ask yourself, do you really want that?"

"But it was Boooorrriiinng. You just blah blah, gay sex, blah blah congress. You know you gotta be, you know, interesting."

"I'm comin' for that ass, santa!"
..."Santa says the f-word!"

"So our first fight was because you thought I was a mean buttfucker?"

"I don't know anything about your father, or about psychics."
"Its like science, you don't have to understand it, you just have to believe it."

Linnea Quote (2 yr old niece)
"There's something in your ear. I think its a school bus."

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Wednesdays' Weirdos: Excessive Lawn Ornament Landscaper

When I was in Denver last for training I went for a run and past by a house that defies description. There were so many lawn ornaments that I had to stop and stare. I came up with a whole elaborate scheme to go back and take multiple pictures.

"I'm an exchange student and I've never seen decorations in the garden before. Where did you buy these?"

click, click

nativity

Unfortunately, I got too busy to make it back. I can tell you there was a large glowing nativity scene, a deer, and lining the driveway were hens, ducks, and other plastic lawn birds. There was little space on the lawn between over-sized, crappy figurines to allow anything to grow, making them this week's Wednsdays' Weirdo: Excessive Lawn Ornament Landscaper.

lawn decorations

Sadly, no water features.

Yet.


Know a weirdo near you story. Please share. Guest postings welcome. Email me at swedishskier@gmail.com

Friday, December 12, 2008

Friday Quotes!

Friday Quotes!The best I've heard, seen, read, uttered, or overheard.
"My brother peed in my mother's fireplace. The electric one."

"Oil? What kind of oil? Cockoil? I think we might have some cockoil in the house"

"You know what? When I went to put my ski boots on this morning I found condoms in there. I thought it was snow."

"Its like I hold all the cold deep in the tissues of my butt and only let it out if I absolutely have to."

"people get their panties in a bunch because you may have possibly called God an imaginary friend for adults under you breath at their baby’s Christening."

On church sign: "Staying in bed shouting, 'oh god' does not constitute going to church."

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Mufflers on my Drum Heads

Last night as we were getting ready for bed, Rob came in beating his chest. He was clearly feeling very manly.

"Listen to this. No listen to this." bangs on chest, "They're like drum heads."

Drums

I stick out my chin, try to make my neck disappear, and beat on my chest too.

"You're drum heads have mufflers on them."

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Annual Kwanza Day Celebration Letter

I think as far as Christmas traditions go, the most worthless and annoying is Christmas cards. There are many reasons for this.

1. Sending cards in the midst of the holidays, which is an already busy, over-stressed bullshit time of year, is an organizational, planning nightmare. The picture, the letter writing, the addressing, stamping, trip to post office... blech.

2. The pissing contest nature of such letters. "After a rigorous selection process Stan is now the head of brain surgery at the hospital. Our daughter, Seraph enrolled at Harvard this fall, you pesky worker-bees and now you have to read about it. Ha! In ya face!" If you write a braggart letter like this, just so you know, your readers want to ass fuck you with a thorny splinter.

3. Multicultural and other considerations. "I need to send a letter to Aunt Jude, but didn't her last letter say her husband died? Ok, so need to remember to take him off the list. Wait, or was that her father that died. I don't want to leave the husband's name off if he's still alive but, but... Oh and Mira got offended last year because she's a Judist Priest Johova and doesn't want to receive love any time of the year, well at least not outwardly so I have to send a 'thinking of you' card." No one can keep up.

In honor of these reasons, I propose a solution. We cooperatively write a Holiday Letter. I'll start it and ask for feed back add ins etc. I will post the final copy on the blog.

The Faux Family:
An Annual Kwanza Day Celebration Letter

Dear Friends and Foes,

So its that time of year again and we thought for the first time this year, we'd send an update letter.

Harry is doing well now that he's out of the institution. He's reintegrating into society pretty nicely. He refuses to wear his underwear, UNDER his clothes but has stopped spraying bug spray by the cologne counters in department stores to "keep the fairies away." We're working on getting him a job folding towels for a local cleaner.

Our oldest daughter Sarah is 17 now. We finally got her on birth control after the Emo Pregnancy Scare of 2008. We told her the piercings would have to come out if she was to give birth so she agreed to the pill.

My debt continues to spiral out of control. After my failed business attempts of...

... TO BE CONTINUED...

So please, post ideas or email them to me at swedishskier@gmail.com

The Week in Review

On Wednesday morning I went running. I was running in a new place which always makes my awareness a bit heightened: cars, strange folks, trouble to make. By 7:00, the number of warming up, running cars had quadrupled and I could hardly control the urge to move the cars. Not steal, just change their spots.

Here's my vision: The whole of suburbia stepping out in their pea coats and briefcases to meet their commute, only wait a second...
"I could have sworn I started the car in the driveway. I'm going crazy. Well that's odd. Cuz now its at the end of the driveway. Why would I park at the end of the driveway? I must be going crazy."
"Good morning Dr. Klein!"
Dr. Klein is scratching her head looking at her Accord parked in front of Mr. Miller's.

It'd be like that annoying "little boxes" intro to Weeds, only askew and confused. Ha! I'd love it.
I'd just felt my impulse control wane and was peering into a Sentra, thinking of pulling it forward a half a car length when the driver laid on the horn. Scared the shit out of me. It put my impulse control back in check though.


Friday night I got drunk at happy hour with a former coworker and so showed up to my sister-in-law's 40th birthday party wasted. Strong start.

No one paid much attention though and we were off making chit chat. I was swapping stories with a friend of my sister-in-law's about trying to get a cab in Denver. (I have a nasty habit of getting "done" with an evening of drinking. And when I'm "done" I just leave. I don't say goodbye or remember to tell the people I came with or anything, I just leave.)

One night I'd gotten to my "done" point and called a cab only to have a pair of making-out lesbians steal it from me. The cab pulls up, I'm waving at it, they're waving at it, and they get in before me. Instead of a normal reaction of disappointment, (remember I'm at my "done" point,) I open the door and pull one of their shoulders back to stop the kissing and ask where they live and if I can share the cab. They did not react well. At this point in the story I'm loud and emphatic when I say, "I was pissed, my cab got stolen by lesbians. Twatlickers."

On this line, in walks my sister-in-law's sister: a lesbian.

Awesome.

I like this woman. I could give two shits about lesbians one way or another, I mean unless their stealing my cab. But I like this woman. And now I sound like a raving homophobe. Awesome.

I top the whole night off by getting back to the Meghannest's house and decided to jump on beds to figure out where to sleep. I head for Sam's room in the basement. Yes, I was stupid enough to jump on a bed in the basement. I whack my head on the ceiling and decide this is NOT where I will sleep. Head back upstairs and awake with a bump and a hangover and not sure which to credit with my headache.

It was a long, shameful walk back to my brother's to pick up the car.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Wednesdays' Weirdos: MixMaster!

Ever been in a hotel and thought, "Where the fuck did they get this crap?" when you looked at the art.
Yeah, I thought so.
I wonder if that's the big perk that comes with being a hotel exec. You get to pick shitty art. Or maybe you end up boning a hot artist under the premise of using his/her art in your hotel. Who knows?
Regardless, that brings us to this week's Wednesday's Weirdos. The Hotel Art Buyer, Photographer, and Framer who collaborated on this project found in a Wolf Creek vacation condo-- The MixMaster!

mix master

Mmmmm raw egg and Top Ramen... whisk me away!

Monday, December 1, 2008

Random Lists

Things that make me happy
Speed Metal eating all my purple Skittles. (What can I say, I'm a grapist.)
New Skis in general but right now the new K2 Hellbents... sexy, sexy bitches
Kelly calling me a "snowtard"
Kurt using my book on his facebook update

Things that suck
Going to Denver for training when there's snow here
Packing
Flies
Cavities

Things that strangely make me think of sex
Sexual Harassment training
Shaun of the Dead
Detachable shower heads (ok that's not really strange)
Steve Martin

Things that make me never want to have sex again
Two girls, one cup (if you have to ask... just trust me and don't)
Jack Black without a shirt on
Danny DeVito
Vaginal Contraceptive Film *shudder*