Wrap your head with this material...

It finally snowed. Its been a pretty snow-free ski season thus far. Which honestly didn't bother me too much since I was working a lot and it would just mean more shoveling then. But now that I'm unemployed... snow's good. Its reminding me who I am. How good I feel rushing down a mountain. How confident. Strong. Smooth. I skied 3 days in a row and 2 of them were with one of my favorite old riding friends. I got up yesterday and shoveled, made coffee and was off. Right before I left, Magnus said "snow." I took a few runs where ski patrol dropped ropes and I got fresh glorious deep turns. Skiing powder is the single best thing in the world. Right before I dropped into my run, as the patroller dropped the rope, he said "Let 'er rip!" "Thanks, I think I will."

"Remember kids, every time you use "LOL," God sodomizes a chipmunk. Please, think about the chipmunks." A little boy was wandering around the non-fiction section. I asked, “Can I help you?” Little boy: “I need to write report on New Hampster and I can’t find anything!” "Just thinking...If you were my paper work, I'd be doing you on my desk right now..." "I only heard this in passing, but I'm pretty sure I heard Van der Sloot's friend say he hopes he only gets 10 years because he, "Don't think Joran killed her that bad." That may be the most amazing sentence I have ever heard on TV. He didn't kill her that bad, just enough so that she stopped living. He only killed her about 10 years worth, I don't get why her family is so pissed, I mean he could have killed her bad enough to serve 30 years, and he didn't, so..." A 45 year old widow just approached me after my show and asked me to go to he...

I realized that I've kind of half assed my explanation of quitting my job with pretty much no idea what I'm doing. Sorry about that. Its just, I feel... umm.... hmmm This is the kind of thing you can talk about and write about forever. The problems with doing child welfare, my job's hard, blah blah blah. And there's part of me that doesn't want to talk about it or share the details of what I assume you already know. Except maybe you don't. I mean, sure there's that glazed-over look and the obligatory comment of "I could never do your job," that is the response from EVERY person you ever meet at a party that says something child protection workers turn a blind eye to. That there are times when working with families is an impossibly difficult job. My last week, I took a teenaged girl to the jail to facilitate a visit between she and her dad. Her feelings about the whole thing were impossibly complex. On the one hand, she understood why he wa...

I've technically only been unemployed for two days so far. I've been a busy girl. And eating really good breakfasts. Mmm. I love breakfast! If you put a bunch of pots in the fire at the same time, then something's bound to be edible come dinnertime, right? See also, starting my own diapering service. See also, that damn book I wrote that I did nothing with and might maybe sorta try to get published. See also, 2-3 jobs I'm applying for. Sure I might burn some stuff, but I just can't handle the idea of putting all my eggs in one basket either. Speaking of eggs, I went out for cocktails with a few close friends after my last day of work and ended up back at my house eating eggs and drinking wine. (Which was a little sad b/c I just worked too many hours and too hard and didn't have any down time so ended up in that weird place with a few drinks where I started to let down and thought I might cry. No one wants to hang out with a crying drunk girl. There aren...

I knew a couple in high school who claimed to still be virgins because they were only having anal sex. Every time I see a picture of her posted on FB, that's what I think of. I think my child is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I stare and stare at him and I could kiss my own lips right off on that forehead of his. I also think he looks just like me. BUT, I do not look at myself in a mirror with an achy lovey heart and think how beautiful I am. My neighbors shoveled a line in the snow dividing our two lawns yesterday. They're so fucking bizarre. I quit my job. I'm getting my house in order. Literally and figuratively. And I even use literally correct in sentences. It should result in more writing. And skiing. And feeling more like myself again. Which is good because I kind of lost me in a deep pit of self-doubt. I'm climbing out now though. Which involves being very poor, and hopefully, very happy.

A half a lifetime ago, I stayed up until midnight. If you were 16 with a permit, you could drive with any licensed driver. So at midnight, I got in my mom's shiny red firebird, T-tops off, and we drove all over the place until the sun came up. I snuck a nap in, then headed to the driver's license office where I got my license on an hour of sleep. Double that, and for my birthday this year, my son slept through the night. It was just as good.

A few years ago, I was at the post office after hours picking up my mail. There was another woman there doing the same thing. Except she had a bit of a panicked look on her face and was looking around at the ceiling. Turns out there was a hummingbird that had made a wrong turn and ended up frantically flying around the post office banging his head into various ceiling panes. We ended up teaming up, finding a pillowcase in the random crap in her car, turning a trash can upside down to stand on, and saving that hummingbird. We sent him out into the dusk. There was a really nasty accident here with some out of towners. They had a heap of kids in the back. None of them in car seats or belts. None of them in the car by the time it was done rolling. Lots of people travel like this. I wish they wouldn't. Tiny humans die in cars. Or out of cars, depending. They don't always die, sometimes they're in full body casts. Have traumatic brain injuries. And then people who ...

This morning was a gray morning. It turned into a gray day. Not outside. Inside. You know how you want to wear a nice gray pair of sweat pants on a rainy day? And gray socks, and gray sweatshirts and t-shirts look just extra comfy. Its not a good color for me. I don't care. I love formal clothes in gray. I can wear them to court and look professionallike but feel the comfy of my sweatpants in the color seeping through. You know how the landscape fades to gray in the background? And hair fades to gray as we age? And details fade to gray as time goes by? Its all perspective. This woman I'm working with on an Adult Protection case, (this is after I've been spending the morning thinking about my gray day which by this time has turned bluebird on the outside... still gray on the inside,) she recommended a book to me that's all about how you decide who to allocate resources to: young vs. old. Possibility vs. who's earned it with all they've put in. The book's call...

The true winners today are the velociraptors. Maybe that's what happened to the dinosaurs: there was a velocirapture. It'd be sweet if there was a gangstarapture. That'd be a good party tonight. Way better than the saranrapture. Quick, somebody make a joke about Christmaswrapture. Clerk: Would you like that gift wraptured? I don't give a crapture. Its got to be at least 50% off gift wrapture paper today. Wish I were a director so I could say "That's a wrapture!" ... and scene.

You ever just feel like you don't have anything interesting to say? Like the whimsy and clever are gone and you're just going through cobwebs? Like your life has taken a turn for the irritating if not mundane? Gray minutia. The good stuff is so good I don't know how to describe it. The curve of Magnus's mouth as he whispers his new consonent secrets. The kicking when he's excited. The giggles. Soooo good. But who wants to read about my vast love for my child and his every new move. (with the exception of this new screaming, shrieking noise he's making. T hat I could really live without.) Then there's the hard stuff. Adjusting to my mom living across the street and how busy life has gotten with her moving. She's had pneumonia lately, so that's been unpleasant. She's on the mend now but its a long road. There's the neighbors. Its horrible sharing walls with people who are violent. Who want to hurt each other. Who want to hurt you. Want bad ...

I was going to quit blogging but I suck at quitting stuff. I decided to quit, thinking I'd make some decisions about my professional life or possibly put some energy toward attempting to get paid for writing, but I didn't do either of those things. Also, I missed blogging. So hopefully someone will still read this because otherwise I'm just talking to myself in written form. Which is not all that far from crazy. So, you ready for a ramblingly, random post of shit-I-haven't-spouted-since-I-haven't-blogged-in-weeks? Good. Here we go. At a training recently, the girl sitting next to me also had a 7 month old. What're the odds? Anyway, at one point she said, "Can I ask you something personal?" I held my breath preparing for a very personal question. "Are you nursing?" Really? That's personal? Since when? Last I checked I'm the girl you tell that you keep a dildo in your glovebox and like to be called "bitch" during sex. I'm ...

I was in an addictions training last week. As an aside, a client left me several drunk messages during the training, which is just fucking ridiculous. Anyway, while I gleaned much information related to addiction, I thought I'd share some of the other details I thought about. Apparently lots of people already know this but I found it CRAZY. So I figure I'll share in case you're interested too and also somehow missed it. Did you know they used to inject your piss into a rabbit to see if you were pregnant? If the rabbit died, you were pregnant. Turns out the pregnancy hormone kills bunnies. To make it even more fucked up, they used to use baby bunnies for this test because they were even more likely to die. So a euphemism I somehow never heard for pregnancy is "the rabbit died." Which makes "kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit..." run through my head. Its been going on for days now. Did you know that "hysterical" literally...

Things I'm snotty about: - using a picture of your kid or your dog or your cat as an avatar. I want to see a picture of you. Sometimes it helps me know who the hell is talking online. I like pictures of other things and I look at them. In albums. - posting annoying status updates. Writing a status update in all caps never SOLVED ANY CAUSE. ever. There's no one who no longer has cancer and no animal with a new home with updated vaccines because you changed your picture to a cartoon and wrote about it on FB. If you want to help, find an organization/child/pet and donate time and money. And I mean both. - trends. I tend to like them for 10 minutes but as soon as I see them happening over and over, I hate whatever it is. See snuggies, when fiction writer's main character is a writer, smartphones, blog awards, robot vocals, etc. - Twilight. I'm sure its very addictive or whatever. I just think you should be ashamed of your addictions. (see also Grey's Anatomy. I am asham...

"yeah, let's hope i can haul my sorry hernia crotch to the house" "Anyone have an old punching bag, or a sibling with no nerve endings, that I could borrow?" "You know its a good tights day when one person says, "Nice stockings?" and another says "Your legs are weird. They make my eyes feel funny." "Dear school bus full of black kids, I play basketball for the exercise. Stop laughing." "If I ever saw an amputee get hanged, I'd just start yelling out letters."

"I'm growing up. You'd be so impressed. Today, I gave a presentation in which I said the word "invaginated" like 5 times without cracking up once." "That's funny. For some reason I've been seeing the word "vaginismus" a lot lately and every time I do, I wish it was spelled "vaginisthmus." It could be next to the cape of good hope." "Reach for the stars, M!" "Yeah, the porn stars." "Dear tattoo artists, Its perfectly ok to respond with, "No, cause that will look fucking stupid!" Love,...Eyeballs" "turns out John Wayne is a real live person, and not a character played by Clint Eastwood. stay tuned for other things I learn today by watching television but couldn't care less about." "If, while flipping through channels I see three or more movies starring the same actor, I immediately assume said actor is dead." "Just waited on a woman who smelled like smoky...

I find myself praying lately. Which is weird because I don't really believe in god. I don't believe with any sort of certainty that there is NO god, but I tend to think there isn't one. I can get behind the idea of goodness. And I can get behind there being a possibility of a force of goodness. Maybe that's god. Or something. Either way, I've found myself praying. Here and there. It started at an AA meeting. My dad's been in AA for 18 years now. In AA birthday years, he can vote. That's quite an accomplishment. And the way he keeps a hold on that sobriety thing that's so important for everything else in his life, is by continuing to be active in the program. And sometimes I go to meetings with him. I went most recently to a meeting with him on New Year's. At the beginning of an AA meeting there's a moment of silence for those still suffering in the throes of alcohol. I held a client out to the forces of goodness in that moment. Wh...

Do you have some days that are mentally stimulating? Where you just have all these interesting and seemingly novel ideas pop in your head? Like a muse has been playing songs in there all day. I always think "oh, I should toss that in a blog" on days like that. "ooh and that too." And it'll go on all day and I'll have enough for one of those vomit-mouth mishmesh blog entries I'm so fond of. But then, half the time by the time I open the lap top to write it, I can't remember a damned thing. Its like the muse is really a children's book character that I only I can see. "I swear I had a fascinating epiphany to share! No, really, I did." Anyway, since the really interesting ideas are probably being hoarded by that tooth fairy, muse bitch, I'll share what's left. I was watching a documentary last night about this guy who was at a party when he was 16 and someone was murdered. He was falsely accused and lumped into a group with the act...

I don't do resolutions. I think they're stupid. And clearly they don't work. I think everything's stupid sometimes. Its one of my less attractive personality traits- a tendency to get all look-down-my-nosey. Its lame. But I'm just so cool. Or snotty. Or something. Anyway, I figure if you need to change something about your life, you need to change it now. I mean now. Or tomorrow when you've got a plan for how to do it. But a magic analog change of the year, flippy number, brand newness... not going to do it. Change come because you work for it, becuase you're ready for it, because it needs to. My brother makes minutia resolutions. Like that he'll randomly turn on his turn signal more often, or use words that start with q more often, or something equal inane. I love them. One year, he reset his trip-tick in the car every time someone did something utterly stupid. I don't think he ever got above 3 miles. But I'm on the cusp of some ...

"At Walgreens, asked whatever the best cold medicine was to make meth with. Not sure why they had to involve the police." "Today, in order to fight child abuse, I'm eating pringles and drinking diet cherry dr. pepper in my jammies-I figure its at least as effective as changing my profile picture to a cartoon- if not more so..." "Dear Mom, You are one of my biggest inspirations in life. You picked yourself up so many times when life threw you down. Even though you gave Harley, the dog, away and spend way too much time at church, I love you much and will see you soon. Happy Birthday! Love, your daughter, mike." "Tonight, I learned how to remove pine tree sap from hair. After more than an hour I THINK I might be sap-free, and I smell like a peanut butter/olive oil/soap dish. New perfume? Not quite. Needless to say, no cookie baking happened and the Christmas tree and I are not speaking right now." "There's no 'i' in ...

he constructed his personality in a junk yard just took things other people discarded and wore them around his neck noose tight fight with all your might to carve out what's yours a hubcap doesn't have to be what it appears I'd use yours to make a mean grilled cheese