Archive for the ‘life’ Category

Soft Open

Thursday, June 3rd, 2010

Incredible. From this moment on, I can’t imagine drinking anything BUT Fresca!

ohhhhhh right. . . Aspartame.

via Fallen Princess

Not Wedding

Friday, April 3rd, 2009

It’s Road Trip Weekend! Chris and I are hitting the open road tomorrow morning. We’ll be staying in Tupelo tomorrow night, Atlanta Saturday and Birmingham on Sunday. It’s the Carter Family Deep South Tour ‘09! If you need us, we’ll be on Highway 78, rockin’to the Carolina Chocolate Drops while drinking Peach Nehi till our teeth rot out. Here’s hoping we’ll have time to stop off at The World’s Largest Office Chair!

The ultimate goal of our road trip will be to arrive, safe and sound, at The Not Wedding in Atlanta, Georgia on Sunday night. There I will be hocking my buttony wares & doing my best to convince the gathered brides that bartering cash for buttons is the way to go in these tough economic times. I don’t know if you’ve read The Economist lately but “Purchasing 1 Inch Buttons” is right between “Grow your own Victory Garden” and “Put All Your Money in a Mattress” in their list of ways to ride out the recession. My dads favorite tip, “Shut the Refrigerator Door,” is a distant fourth.

When I get back from Atlanta I might have time for things other than button making… like blogging… and also doing the dishes.

Health Insurance….bah!

Wednesday, March 4th, 2009

I hate to be all “Poor little Insured Girl” while the self-employed of the world play a Shostakovich concerto on teeny tiny violins… but MAN, no one told me that health insurance would be such a gigantically painful hassle! I would almost prefer to sit for hours on end at a public health clinic. Sure snotty kids got their sticky sick fingers all over me… and the screaming… ohgodthescreaming… but I’d pay my 15 bucks, and as soon as I stepped out the door I could begin forgetting the whole awful experience.

Having health insurance is like a PTSD flashback of hassle. Three months after my initial visit with my internist, the claim rejection letters start rolling in. Then the phone calls… and the hours of hold time with customer care. After spending 47 years of my life that I’ll never get back, it all turned out to be a simple misunderstanding. My doctor’s office had erroneously attached me to my husband’s policy . . . also Pacificare thought I was a man.

“Not a big deal,” said Ms. Customer Care. “At least not till you try filing a claim at a gynecologist, or try to receive prenatal care.” Just the same, I’d kind of like my pharmacist to stop looking at me funny.

When it’s all said and done, Pacificare . . . I love you baby. I didn’t mean to say all those hateful things about you. I really love how, out of all my prescriptions, it was the $450 2oz bottle of lotion that you decided to cover instead of all those cheap generics… and I love you for that. Don’t ever go.

A Tub Not Soon Forgotten

Sunday, September 7th, 2008

Earlier this summer, Chris and I moved our bathtub to the front porch in order to keep up the illusion that we are still working on our disaster of a bathroom. I promise that leaving the tub there where it sat was not a part of our plan. This was not a vain attempt at winning the hearts and minds of our neighbors… although, let me tell you, nothing will improve your chances of winning Neighbor of the Year more than bathroom fixtures next to your front door. We had every intention of putting it in Chris’ truck and hauling it over to Habitat for Humanity. Promise. But the thing was about 400 pounds more than the poor little pick-up could handle… so there it sat.

I’m sure our postman appreciated the tub since it was right in front of our mailbox. He’s used to it though, since it seems that each day there’s a new and different piece of debris out there chronicling our home’s destruction from the inside out. We call it the Mailbox Physical Challenge. Sure we’d like our Netflix, but could you complete this obstacle course first?

But the tub is gone now. Sold on Craigslist for $50 when, really, if the buyers had been just a little bit better at negotiating, they could have talked us into giving them $50 just for haulin’ it away.

We’ll miss you old tub. I had just gotten used to giving directions to our home by pointing people to the “house with a bathtub on the porch”… and now you’re gone.

Job Update

Tuesday, July 29th, 2008

Gah. I’m tired of looking at my stupid mug… let’s move it down the page a bit, shall we?

Yesterday, I finally heard back about the job. Lord Almighty. I don’t know if you’ve ever sought employment with a state office but you have to set aside like half of your life just to sit and wait. Then you mail a form. And then you wait some more. And then you mail that same form again, along with two copies. Then? More waiting. 15 years later, you’ve got a job!

Well.. I will have a job… after the drug test comes back in another week. And then I don’t actually start till the middle of August. OH MY LORD SO MUCH WAITING!

The position I wanted the very most is still in process but I’ve grown old and wrinkly and need to move on BUT please please please could I please wait a while longer so they can get their act together? No. Sorry, I can’t. Mama needs to buy a loaf of bread. Good thing I have a few more design jobs lined up before then cause it would be a little sad if I had to go on gov’t assistance while waiting to get my first paycheck from DHS, don’t ya think?

Yesterday, I sat in the drug testin’ waiting room with the man who drove this truck:
Tulsa World Story

News Channel 6

His arm was scratched up, but he was in remarkably un-dead condition for having just flipped an exploding truck full of sulfuric acid and bleach. I was glad to hear that the accident was caused by a tire blowout and not through any fault of his own. Way to go Chemical Truck Dude!

Oh and by the way, I highly recommend the National Occupational Health Services for all your drug testing needs. The staff is very professional and friendly… which is hard when you handle the urine of smack addicts for a living. They also had cute hair. The whole lot of ‘em.

—-
Don’t forget to vote today! Brady Heights! Get yourself to Mount Zion Baptist Church!
Elgin and Easton! Polls stay open till 7pm!

Interview Time!

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

Wish me luck!

Not even the chair.

Monday, July 7th, 2008


I dare you to not have a better day after listening to that song.

I tell you what, there’s nothing like blasting a little Neil when cruising North Pine with your windows down (they’re broken), sportin’ your Golden Girls sunglasses (they’re the only ones that fit over my regular glasses). Who says gentrification isn’t fun for everyone!?

Neil Diamond is coming to Tulsa in October. The tickets are $88 to $695 a piece. That is SO worth it. If someone rich wanted to buy me two tickets for my birthday (September 28) I would accept them with gladness in my heart. You can even come with me, if you would like. For I never cared for the sound of being alone.

Gah… I’m out of coffee…

Live free or give me a reasonable alternative!

Monday, July 7th, 2008

You know what? I completely forgot about McSweeney’s. Man! I love McSweeney’s! Especially the lists because, despite the fact that I don’t have cable, I have attention deficit disorder.

Favorite lists:
Broadway Musicals Written by Gender-Studies Professors.
Significant Ways I Differ From Carly Simon.
The Wages of Sin
The Lesser-Known Slogans of Political Moderates.

I’m trying to cut back on my coffee, so I’ve only been brewing six cups each morning. Chris takes 3 of those cups with him in his working man’s traveling mug and that leaves one and a half mugs for me if I use my huge Allan Bros. mug with the lip groove. Have you ever used a mug with a lip groove? You don’t know true lip comfort until you have used a mug with a lip groove.

Anyway, every time I pour that last half a cup it makes me unbearably sad and full of regret that I didn’t brew a full 12 cups like back in the good ol’days.

I’ve been painting a lot… it’s a riot.

Bounty!

Thursday, June 19th, 2008


One of the many fabulous things about living in Brady Heights is our community garden. Thanks to the monsoon which is currently ruining my basement, our garden is out of control with leafy greeness. We’ve been picking the strawberries all summer, but this is our first harvest from the vegetable side of things.

Last night, Chris and I started craving curry but didn’t want to leave the house. So we trekked across the street to our little garden plot at 10:30pm with flashlights and scissors like garden bandits. I’m sure the neighbors think we’re crazy. We totally are, guys. It’s true.

Added in some coconut milk, rice, dates and prik khing curry and we had dinner for two plus enough for todays’ lunch! Today calls for zucchini bread and the completion of the pea harvest. It’s much easier in daylight.

Emotion is Dead, Pt III

Wednesday, June 18th, 2008

Dear Marissa (circa 2000),
Yesterday I tossed your Juliana Theory t-shirt into a big cardboard box marked “Goodwill”. Now, don’t cry. Its been years since I’ve been able to wear it and even longer since I realized that the Theory really weren’t all that great to begin with. A little campy even. With the screaming and all? Sorry.

Just think of the little emo kid who will wet themselves in excitement over finding a “vintage” Juliana Theory shirt for 3 bucks amongst all the shirts commemorating team building and 5k runs. I know you go crazy for that kind of thing. Shoot, I still do.

I know, I know. If you had known that we would “grow up” to enjoy banjo music and James McMurtry, you would’ve slit your wrists… but then, you were a little emotionally unstable and really now, it’s your fault that we moved to Oklahoma in the first place. You have to admit that you were kind of asking for it.

Thanks for your understanding,
Marissa