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

Friday, October 30, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"Hey, there's a carnival!"
"So that's what we're calling dwarves who walk Pomeranians now? Carnivals? I expected more from you, Gina."

"
Just stood on my front porch with my tiara on my head, without realizing it. I really AM a pretty, pretty princess! And a nerd."

"Your face says no, but your purr says yes."

"I felt really bad washing my hair with hand soap in front of my hair dresser. Like, I'd brushed my teeth with a chocolate bar in front of the dentist."

"If an 18 year old compliments your outfit is that a good thing or a bad thing?"


"I'll be Kanye West for Halloween & just before kids say Trick or Treat, I'll jump out of the bushes and yell Christmas is better!"

"
Thank God they found balloon boy, I was afraid that Michael Jackson was ordering take-out from heaven."

"I think its now standard issue for the Defense Attorney's office: If you're a woman its 'Hellow Miss, here's your thong,' if youre a man its 'Here's your bong.'"

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Its a Pitty Party and I'll leave if I want to

So I've been in a funk of late. Not that cool, P-Funk kinda funk. I mean a funk. And I'm coming out of it. Which is so necessary.

I know this happens to me every fall. And its so stupid because ski season is just kickin' into gear which is by far the best thing in this whole world. There is nothing I love more. Nothing.

And I know ski season is coming, yet every fall, after the leaves are done, when the days are getting shorter and grayer, I just get Funky. For anywhere from 2-8 weeks I become my own personal pitty party event planner. I can spend hours in my head convincing myself that: I don't have friends, I'm fat, I'm getting old and ugly, I've failed in every professional endeavor I've ever pursued. And on and on.

I'm an awesome mindfucker.

But last week the fog started clearing from my brain. And the way I knew this was that I started dreaming of skiing. I dreamt about skiing Every. Single. Night.

I can't ski yet. So I shopped instead. I bought cute trendy clothes that look great on me.

And then yesterday we went to Glenwood Springs and I remembered why I love my body. Because of all the cool things I can do with it. I repeated every awesome mistake I made last time I went to Glenwood and I'm not sorry at all. I like flipping around off a diving board. I especially like it at 30 when half the moms that are watching with their kids are older than I am and won't even go off a diving board because they forgot to remember to use their bodies.

glenwood

I can swim really well. Like fast and properly and gracefully and I just love the feel of the glide underwater. I like flipping and spinning and just gliding through the water. I like to feel its heat slip along my curves.

I thought about all the tricks I'd like to learn to do on skis and how if I spent more time going off a diving board, maybe I could get inversions down. Maybe I could flip around and around (with short so I stop bruising the SHIT out of my legs) all day long at Glenwood hot springs and then head out to ski on a powder day and throw a front roll.

And then it occurred to me: This is what I have that I can't have with kids. And its good. And I'm going to enjoy it until, well until something else.

And that's the beginning of the exit from my pitty party.

We drove back to Summit County after our fun day in the water and met up with friends at a bar. Yes, I do have friends, asshole. And Rob and I made love and talked and and and

Life is ok, headed toward good.

In other news, my car shit the bed on Friday so I was driving an Impala back over Vail pass all white-knuckled in a snow storm with "Impala" by Lil' Troy in my head, instead of my safe, sturdy Subaru. Didn't want you to think things to too rosy. Life's still go plenty of bullshit. But thankfully, some bullshit comes with a warranty and a weird soundtrack.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"When a mother has just given birth, is she crying because she is happy or because she knows all the pain and suffering her child will experience throughout its life?"
"Shut up, you douche canoe. She's crying because her vagina hurts from GIVING BIRTH!"

"Watching my dog chasing his tail's one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life."
"Does your dog have a tail."
"No. He just has that little stubbin. That's why its so funny. He leaps and turns and its like watching a doggy tiltawhirl."

"You went to Swedish camp?"
"Yeah. They had other camps too. Like, German and French and Japanese camp. But not like internment camp. That'd be fucked up."


"What I would like for my birthday: That the Red Hot Chili Peppers bring back the funk and stop singing songs about California. Can anybody help me with that?"

"You know, I really only think drinking is a problem if you're not good at it."



"Found a phone last night. Hope "daddy" gets picture messages"

"You're paying $300 to have Amy sit on you."

"Pretty sure I'm staring in the shit show without even realizing it. Maybe someone will take candid photos of me at the grocery store with my mismatched gloves and pj pants on- Oh the Horror!"

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Wednesday Weirdo: Lovely Lips

wednesdsay weirdo
On Wednesdays I (sometimes) post an example of a strange person, or group of people that I've encountered, been told about, or read about. Guest submissions are welcome and can be sent to swedishskier@gmail.com

So Wednesday Weirdos started out as being strange people but now it may have morphed into me just telling you fucked up stories I hear.
At a school recently, the teachers were talking about crazy tattoos the parents of the students had come in with. They were all moaning about this woman who'd come in with a tattoo that read "Property of Ray" and was stamped on her forearm.
The principal was quietly listening, waiting for her to top this story.

She said, get this, she'd had a mother of a student come in for parent teacher conferences and show her a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, just any place.
But a tattoo on the inside of her lower lip that read
"DICK" with an arrow pointing inside her mouth.
The mom explained that her husband's name was Richard so that must clear it all up, no?
lip tattoo
Making her this week's Wednesday Weirdo: Lovely Lips.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

This was too long to be a status update or a tweet so I had to make it a blog post

lips


So, Rob's holding the dog's head in his hands and calling him names like "Retardopolis" and "Captain Nutsack" which is mean cuz he just got neutered. In my best imitation ChompSki voice I say "Rob, you're my world."

"Oh my god, I don't want to be anybody's world."
"Not even mine?" I ask in a sickeningly sweet voice, batting my lashes.

He rolls his eyes and gets comfy and lays his head on my lap.

I, of course, am not done with this so I start singing the theme from The Little Mermaid in my best retardopolis voice.


Whisper "Wish I could be..." I stand and open my arms wide "PART OF THAT WORLD!!!!"


Rob shakes his head, gets up, and starts making breakfast. I follow him because I'm a pest like that, and see that he put oil in the pan with the sausage.
Puzzled, I say, "Um you don't need oil. Sausage makes its own oil."

"You make your own oil."

Which sends me into giggles and all I can think is "LUBE!"
So then I started saying it over and over and laughing hysterically. I can tell by everything about him that he finds this word gross. Cuz the word "LUBE" is gross. Don't worry, it doesn't stop me.

So then a few minutes later we're eating said sausage and sure enough its made its own oil ALL over his lips. I hold back my laugh but its silently creeping out in the form of my shoulders shaking and air escaping and I'm gesturing at him to wipe his lips.

"What?" He asks, coily, knowing I might lose my shit any minute.

Finally I loose it and practically pee myself pointing and saying, "Lube! Lube!!! ahahahaha LUBE! Lube. Lubelubelube lube! LUBE!!! I Llllube you, honey! YOU'RE MY WORLD!!!"

Friday, October 16, 2009

Friday Quotes!

" I would like to blame my fatness on the Bush Administration"

"Why you got to pry like that, Facebook? What's on MY mind you always want to know? Why do you care? Huh? Ass."

"Well, I'm an old gold toof and I'll tell you the troof. I live in the mouth of a homie!"

"White House says Nobel money goes to charity. ... So basically a socialist redistribution of wealth? Typical."

"I am not interested in picking up crumbs of compassion thrown from the table of someone who considers himself my master. I want the full menu of rights." ~Bishop Desmond Tutu

"I think when I come up and grab you and kiss you when you're topless, we've moved beyond flirting."

""Ain'tthat America" highlight of the day: Major news networks interruptcoverage of a presidential town hall meeting to show footage of anempty weather balloon floating over Colorado. For two hours."

"new favorite insult = "douche canoe""
"what exactly would something like that do?"
"It would douche a giant you-know and sing Row, Row, Row your boat as it came out.Glad you asked? I didn't think so."

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Monday, October 12, 2009

pesky punctuation

confeshun: I can't talk about the most emotionally meaningful things in my life because i feel like it cheapens them and makes them trite things that fit into words and sentences and phrases with pesky punctuation
when feelings are ethereal beings that seem to wrap themselves around certain organs and regions of my tongue or ribs or uterus
sometimes they itch and burn and squeeze and if I wrap my arms around Rob and bury my head in his shoulder and kiss his cheeks I just know its all ok
that's with the good things
The bad things I can write about. They're good to put into the shapes of things we know and hate in order to chew them up and let saliva and stomach acid take them apart and make them useful to something.
I'm supposed to be 8 months pregnant.
Instead, I started my period again. I was so sure I might be pregnant again. I even allowed myself to be happy about it. I felt like I'd be able to be patient this time, wait and see. You know, a calm happy. An I-can-wait-for-something-this-good happy.
My new next door neighbor is 8 months pregnant. I can't speak to her. I hate her too much. Over the weekend she and her husband had a horrible fight. Rob and I came home just as she stormed out of the house swearing at him. Rob didn't hear. He was talking to the dog. So he mistakenly said "How's it going?" and smiled. She turned on him for a moment, said, "NOT GOOD" and went back to calling her husband an asshole. Thing is, it made it easier for me. I hated her less.
Then today happened. And I'm just not sure I can do this. I thought it would be easier by now. And it has been. But as my due date gets closer and closer I am more and more furious at this timing that is not my own. I was so sure of when I'd ovulated. But my watch just seems to be broken, because I think its time. Time to ovulate, time to copulate, time to conceive, time for my turn.
The other night we went to a friend's for dinner and there was this power outage I forgot about that made the clock reset and it was at about 11 which set the clock an hour fast. So we arrived to dinner and I thought we were late but it turns out we were a 1/2 hour early. Maybe this will be like that. Maybe if I just pop a valium and let go my tears, I'll figure out it was just that I forgot to set spring forward or fall back.
I hope so. Cuz I've been cheering myself up for 5 months. And I think I've done pretty good. But I'm running out of ideas.
Just as I was finishing this Rob came home and told me my new pants that I just bought from Old Navy are called "Harem Pants" and asked me to go to sushi.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

National Equality March

For those of you who don't know, my dad's gay.

When I was 14, days before beginning my freshman year of high school, my dad came out. We were all sitting in the basement of our house in St. Louis having a family discussion. You see, my dad was moving out. He was moving to Chicago and what my brother and I knew, was that my parents were divorcing. Things just weren't working out. We thought my mom was acting crazy. She frequently flew into rages which seemed unreasonable given the circumstances we were aware of. So my mom finally said "You have to talk to them." And to the basement we went.

"A few years ago, when you're mother and I split up, I had an affair."
"And it wasn't with a woman."

It was the most unexpected thing he could have said. We were utterly stunned. No one said anything for an interminable series of moments. Tears streamed down my father's cheeks. Finally, he couldn't take the fear of us hating him anymore.

"SAY SOMETHING. Tell me you love me, tell me you hate me, but say something!"
"Of course we still love you. But really, you cheated on MOM?!!!??"

In this moment, my attitudes and understanding of relationships was forever changed or shaped.

I realize now, that even at 14, I knew that it isn't about who you have a relationship with, its about how you treat the person you're with. I didn't care that my father wanted to be with men. Well, ok, I cared. It was unexpected. He was a football watching dad who made fun of gay men mocking their lispy stereotypes. (Mind you, he still does both of those things from time to time.) But not as much as I cared about the promises he'd broken to my mother. What I saw to be important was that he'd broken the sanctity of his marriage.

My parents marriage was a religious one. They are both very christian people who believe that the way to live is to follow in Jesus path. Which for them, does NOT mean deciding how other's should behave. It simply means to care for the least of us. It means, if you're car breaks down and you have no money, it is likely that my mother would have you over for dinner, even if its the first time you've ever met. It means, if you're in jail and drugs and alcohol got you there, there's a good chance my dad will talk to you about working an AA program and share his story with you.

They were married in a church and my mom had a recognition of her divorce in a church.

But they don't expect everyone to be them. They didn't care when Rob and I got married in front of a Cherokee priestess in a secular ceremony. Mine is not a religious marriage.

And I don't expect everyone's marriage to be mine.

What I do expect is that everyone have the right to commit to whomever they wish. In whatever format.

I remember going to get our marriage license at the state courthouse. It was anticlimactic if you really want to know. They search you to see if you're already married, you pay your $22, sign a paper and that's that. It takes less time than renewing your license plates. Its less intense than suing in small claims court.

And yet, its up for all this judgment. As though we could hold religious court with our marriages. And we can, AT CHURCH!

At court though, we are equal. And how this is even a discussion is beyond me. How our leadership could have failed us for so long on standing up for this issue is asinine. Its simple. Everyone. Should. Have. Equal. Rights. Period.

We don't question whether a rapist gets to marry. Or murderers for that matter. We don't ask if we should revoke the rights of KKK members to marry. Though both these groups have violated BOTH religious and state law. No, if you've killed someone driving your car while drunk, you're husband will still be notified that you're in the hospital. His insurance will cover your treatment. And your estate will go to him if you don't make it out of that hospital.

Yet, if you are a law abiding, gay citizen, the same right is not afforded you.

My parents are in their 60s. I'd like to pretend they're not, but its true. My mom's husband died just over two years ago. It was awful. He withered away from cancer. He's ex military, as is my father. His insurance covered hospice and my mother cared for him until the end. His children are vermin. They'd eat through your walls if they could. But my mom was protected. Why? Because they were married.

If the same issues of death and aging strike my father, heaven forbid, why should my father have any less? He has no legal history. He served his country in the air force translating Russian for years. Why should he not be allowed to marry and have who he chooses care for him in his aging?

Legal marriage is an issue of property and of rights. It is not a place for religion. And whether you belong to the KKK or to LGBT, you should be able to get a license to marry whom you chose regardless of gender or affiliation.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Cogs

Yesterday in the parking lot of the grocery store I closed my door at the exact same time as another car. Do you think that's fate? Or maybe a sign? Maybe the universe is trying to tell me that I'm just a piece of tickertape, part of the machine. And I can try and break out. I can die my hair pink or cuss up a storm. I can live on a platform at the top of a redwood tree, or camp out in an old mining shack. And if I could break out of the mold, the system, then I would just need to be strong in my broken places. Then, would things be right?

There are so many places where there just isn't sense. A senator that doesn't get reelected because he's labelled unpatriotic. Did I mention he was in Vietnam and lost 3 of 4 limbs to a granade? And the guy he lost to? He avoided the draft. It was all very proper, deferrments and a trick knee. What is going on that this is what happens because of spin and media and pictures and sounds? But maybe its a lesson. There must be other ways to be patriotic. Whatever that word even means.

Maybe patriotic isn't all its cracked up to be. Maybe we should think about community-minded people. You know, the people who volunteer for the PTA and work on the boards of nonprofits. Or who volunteer their time and tears to bring TB vaccines to remote areas. Or the person volunteers to teach an adult to read at the library every Tuesday and takes Mr. Robertson to the grocery store since his wife died last spring and she did all the driving. Maybe these are the heroes we should celebrate and we should let go of "patriotic"?

Because these people make us strong in all our broken places.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Friday Quotes!

"Well I didn't want to walk in on your boobies"

"thought my lesbian neighbor wanted to jump my bones in the laundry room. Turns out lesbians just really like pajama pants."

"You're like a tornado of bullshit right now. We'll talk again after your bullshit dies out over someone else's house."

"The little engine that tried to do it but couldn’t and then later he found out that when he was born they weren’t sure if he was a train or a tractor so the doctor just made him into a train because that was easier but turns out? Totally a tractor."

"The bible is the world's longest game of telephone."

"I always try to see if I can get people to hold their breath through a tunnel. No one ever makes it through the Eisenhower Tunnel."
"I wanna see if Michael Phelps can hold it through the Eisenhower Tunnel."
"I wanna see if Michael Phelps can take a bong rip and hold it through th Eisenhower Tunnel."