there's no use crying over spilled milk, sweetheart

whatever.

okay. here's a snapshot of these days.

1.) tharen can't fix our brakes because after twice taking the wheel off, once to find out you need a special tool (which we bought), and then again only to find out that you need an air pressured tool as well! so now we have to pay the dude down the street 90 bucks to do it in his shop. tharen sure is happy that he arranged the time to do the brakes when it would've been more cost effective to just take it the fuck IN to the shop in the first place so he could WORK! whatever.
2.) when i went out to take jack to school this morning, i had to reach back in the house and grab my wallet. the door was in the process of closing, so i held my foot up to stop it and push it open again. my foot went through the cat door, and at first i though it was a little cute 'n' stuff, you know, early morning giggle material: "oh! *heehee* my foot went in through the cat door! *heehee*" but yeah. my foot literally went THROUGH the cat door. the stupid thing broke off, and now i have to go buy a new one. whatever.
3.) so, i'm a little pissed at this point, but goin' good at the same time because i'm gonna get jack to school early enough to hang with his friends before he goes in the class. yeah. NOPE! battery's dead. so i quickly call to see if the religious devil spawn down the street has left yet, and they had, BUT super evil spawner rushes right over with a jump start, and i get jack to school a few minutes late, meaning i have to take him inside to the office....which means i have to turn off the truck after running for only five minutes.

yes! all you in the know are right! NOT LONG ENOUGH TO CHARGE! i knew the fucking thing wouldn't start when i came back out! beepbeepboop-boopbeepboop-beepbeepbeepboop...hello, bcaa? SAVE ME! dude comes half an hour later, jumps me, gives the battery a successful (wtf) charge test, and i'm on my merry way, with no idea why my battery died in the first place. whatever.4.) i'm so merry because i'm on my way to pick up tharen's paycheque....this means a new cat door, brake service, umpteen bill payments, FOOD, and a carpet cleaning which i'll cover in my next point. paycheque...what paycheque? that's right! NOT THERE! so i phone tharen, tharen phones boss, boss says that pay day is really on the 16th, and he's just been getting them early. whatever.
5.) the carpet. yes. the stinky, smelly, stench filled, bacteria laden, lung congesting synthetic loop system of bovine juice rot infested carpet. sweet stuff! my house smelled like a thousand rotting asses yesterday. the other day i thought i smelled a little something 'off'. i searched high and low and finally came upon the smell on the couch. jared had been given a juice box thingy that squirts out a little every time it gets squished a little with MILK in it and allowed to go in the living room. i'm not gonna say who gave it to him, but he's tall, hairy, answers to 'dingbat', and i'm married to him. he totally knows better! FUCK! anyway, after berating his sorry brain power, i get out the steamer thing and get to de-lousing the couch. it works. but i can still smelllllllllll.....FUCK!

it's the carpet! and it's wet! and i'm gagging! holy christ i swear i almost passed out when i bent down to sniff it. so, upon discovery through investigation, there was some sort of dairy product spilled there while there was a babysitter here the day before. i wanted to go get her and drag her back to the house to give her a life lesson on what happens when you don't clean up milk properly, but i couldn't. i must deal. FUCK.

so i attack the carpet with my steam cleaner, but that just winds up sending steamy wafts of puke inducing stench up to me to infiltrate my clothes and hair! nixed that idea and covered it in pretty jasmine vanilla baby powder and rolled it up to get at the underlay. more baby powder and some propping up to air out....some bleach and a scrub brush for the wood underneath (which is just plywood, booooo), and it's good with all the doors and windows open, intermittent lysol sprays, and the boys hiding in my bedroom to alleviate the stench from getting stuck in their snot. jared's mostly happy 'cause we stopped asking if it was his butt that smelled!

i've laid the carpet back down, and while the reek has greatly improved, it's NOT gone. i have to douse it with some oxi clean and get the store rental carpet cleaner on it. the bonus here is that the carpets needing cleaning anyway, as well as countless rugs and the couch, most importantly. whatever.

6.) i'm sure there's more, but i'm gonna go chug the rest of my wine to see if it helps with my whine.

lights~out

dfkhns

feeling a little mixed up today.
i question certain friendshipS. yes, more than one.
sure do wish i could be nicer, so i could keep people like that hanging around to fuck me over even more! that would be awesome!
ooo, and people involving me in their shit...that's my favorite!
have you met me? rest assured that i will pull some iconoclastic heroism on what i believe about what you believe...don't like it....or me?
sometimes i have a big mouth, so fuck off.
fuck it.
i'm gone.
got shit to do.

stay tuned...we will soon be back to regular programming.

a friend like hades on the day from hell

holy christ.
fairly succinct? definitely, yes. let me explain:

jesus. i'm writing this in shots in between the toilet festivals that have been going on today. jack is sick. as in- very. i got a call from his school's secretary this morning saying that i should "immediately pick up my son - he is vomiting." ...and by that, she meant he had vomited in the classroom, down the hall, and on the bathroom floor. i get there, and the covering custodian (who is 5 months pregnant, by the by) is cleaning up the loveliness. man oh, man. that's always a joy, hey?

so i bring my pukey boy home with the two year old in tow and he proceeds to climb right up into his bed. i could barely get him changed because he was so sleepy, and then maybe half an hour later he ralphs all over his bed! so, i had to get that all cleaned up. hah! MORE laundry! i tried to get jared to lay down for a nap, but he wasn't havin' ANY of that. instead, he decided to fall asleep behind my back at around 4pm while i was cleaning a puke bowl for the 8th time! now he's gonna be up until 11! i let him sleep because, well, i needed a freakin' break! i really am trying to keep them separate, because i want to avoid having two retchers if at all possible.

have i mentioned that tharon is gone for work for two days? yeah. the loveliness spews, pours, gushes and glows over here! you're jealous, i know. it's ok. i called him this morning, but he didn't get the message until after 3 this afternoon. he actually didn't even listen to his message. he just called me unknowing about his boy - not that he could do anything, i guess, but still...i know i wouldn't like it if i was informed of a day long pukorama after the fact!

and here's another shovel full: tharon and i got to talk for maybe five minutes, and then the POWER went out for almost two hours! i had no landline 'cause it's digital, thought i should save my cell battery just in case, and was starting to light candles to assess the dinner situation when it finally came back on. wow. that would've sucked huge - to go all night? brutal. i'm not sure what the problem was, but i contemplated heading to my mother's. i must've been a bit worried for that to happen! i actually haven't been able to get ahold of her all afternoon, and i'm not really sure what to do.

i was thinking i should take jack to the hospital, and i still might. he has no fever but is breathing fast, which would indicate an infection as opposed to a virus. if it starts coming out his butt, i'm outta here to get it tested. there was a time that we had jack in the hospital for an h.compilobacteria-somethin' infection in his tummy, and that sorta thing causes the ultimate loveliness of death, so i'm not taking any chances. the whole waiting room thing doesn't affect us yet, 'cause they take little kids in right away....especially if there are stomach contents involved.
i really wish tharen were here, instead of "worrying" his time away in the motel pub while watching the game! at least he'll get a good night's sleep tonight and can take over tomorrow! the job they're at is a union site, so they get kicked off the site by 3pm, which means he should be home around 7.....here's hopin'!

but at least i have good friends....yeah right! i got a call from one in particular, and i tell ya....if i could have reached through the phone to strangle her, i would've. my word, she irritates me! concurring with one of janis' recent blogs, weak women repulse me, and she be one of 'em. not janis, the other one....let's call her lucy. see, lucy's loose. she never used to be, but has since gone pathetic slutzo after splitting with her baby daddy of 13 years.

i've known her for almost 20 years. met in high school, and i was her 'cool' friend. well, that's what she says, but i think she was right. especially if compared to her. nasty, i know. sad, but true. she's (was) an awesome person, but i didn't really hang out with her all that much. i suppose our friendship budded in foods class after regina quit school. after all, i needed another smoking partner! lucy's the one who told everyone my metallica story, and still does! she's crazy.

wanna know what else makes her crazy? blowing off her nearest, dearest, oldest friends so she can beg attention from a fucking cokehead. that's right, cokehead. powder king, snort face, jack crack, rock jock - as in: cuckoo for the coca. we lost touch here and there, but always wound up talking again. the longest stretch of not being in touch over two years was because she had to follow her baby daddy on a run from some house owners who suddenly had their prized uh...tomatoes go missing. can you fucking believe it?

so anyway, the move north wreaks havoc on their relationship, and soon enough, all the stories come pouring out....he spends all their money on coke! they didn't even have a rent where they were living, but they regularly went without things while living in a house that wasn't suitable for the rats. she high tails it outta there on the presumption that she's coming to take care of her ailing grandparents, but who the fuck leaves their kids to care for family members that already have tons of family around? yeah, come visit....but she was here for 2 months!...and then came back again! see, while she was gone the first time, he had gotten comfy with some broad. and if you can believe it, she justified to me how this man stealing hussy could go in and sit with her kids...cuddling for movies, planning for birthdays....FUCKING HER MAN!?! i seriously started losing respect for her back then....she wasn't the kind of person i thought she was. i thought she had standards and morals. i thought that's why i liked her.

she decides she's leaving for good and moving back to this area, but can't go back to her previous town 'cause of the, you know, tom-rip. so she's out in a way further suburb and i haven't seen her except for when i go out there. one of the few times she did come here, she brought one of her coke heads with her and he fucking left some in the tent of ours they slept in! FUCK ME! that shit does NOT happen here. marijuana? yes. synthetic powdered pathetic? no. so, i would've reclaimed my adoration for her had she been a true strong woman and told him to eat it...but no. she kept doing him. i found out that all the time i never saw her 'cause of this guy she was just 15 minutes away trying to be cute enough to entice him out of his four walls to no avail. apparently this dude never wanted to do anything. he would do blow while sitting home alone with her, and she insists she doesn't do it. i'm not sure if i believe her. she'll do anything to be liked, apparently. she even asked me about ass sex cuz she thought it would keep dude happy enough to not do rails. fucking moron. you're only supposed to do that if he's EARNED the treat!

seriously, though. she's now (AND STILL!) trying to fuck some dude who she tried for months to be in a relationship with. granted, they did have a casual screwing affair, but she lives her life around it. she is not aware of the actual ground rules of a 'no strings' 'casual other', so she unknowingly broke every single one of them. THIS guy got caught red dicked screwing some other chick. lucy throws a fit, but is STILL trying to get this guy. and the ultra pathetic thing? he won't cheat on the twat he's with now, which is the one he 'cheated' with. she's insisting that it can be secret. and he won't do it. huh. i don't wanna be mean, here, but clue the fuck in!

i've been avoiding talking to her for a few weeks now. she's been calling me to make herself feel better about a situation that's going on in my life right now.maybe i'll write about that tomorrow. but anyway, while i'm on the phone with her, she's passive-aggrasively trying to make ME feel bad that i haven't responded to her. FUCK ME! she said in a message a couple weeks ago: "dude, i'm so sorry.....i had no idea.....whatever you need, i'm there for ya...." my non-verbal response to her was: "dude, you had no idea 'cause YOU'RE NEVER AROUND!" anyways, she still tried her shit even after i told her about the day i'm having! fucking retard. so i got off the phone fairly fast. it was the one time today that i was glad to hear damon yelling out for help. after hearing that she's still trying with that guy pretty much turned me off. at first i thought i might like to talk to her finally, but no. after the pathetic info and the guilt trip, i would've MUCH rather cleaned another puke bowl.

jack's finally sleeping now....it's after 11pm. he layed on the living room floor literally ALL day. and the puking! at least a dozen times. my poor, sweet guy. every time i lay with him, i imagine pulling all the germies into my body. i can deal. i'm a machine.

o - and tharen and i had an argument 'cause he's a drunk fuck. i'll tell you about that later, or else it would be it would be a giant blob of black tar hate right now. trust me.

home is where it's at

i've made headway on the home front!
yesterday i kicked ass doing a million things (all at the same time, even!) and reminded myself how awesome i really am...heh heh...or how much of a SLACKER! there were so many little things that i never have the time to do, what with all the enthusiastic picking of my nose [read: voracious reading] and smelling honeysuckle dew drops [read: smoking] i do on a daily basis. i regularly employ contemplation of using my night owl super powers - pulling all nighters to accomplish things such as totaling receipts, cleaning the basement, computer upkeep/catch-up, or organizing the 15,964 toys we have so they're not just a jumbled pile of crap that can't be played with. and man, this place needed a dusting! in my defence, though, this is THE dustiest house i've EVER lived in - and there have been many abodes. approximately 15, to exactly guess while hedging a bet. i lived in the same house with my parents between the ages of one and when i got the hell out, so most of the nomad-type behaviour occurred in the first 5 or 6 years sans apron strings.

i suppose i could figure it out....i actually have them all written down somewhere in one of my lists. i moved out about 42 seconds after i turned 19 on january 1st, the year nineteen ninety-wicked! my first place was the apartment my best friend and i had fantasized about for three years. we naively explored our ideals and made sisterhood promises never to be drawn assunder. yeah fucking right! it took the hussy patrol only a few short months to annoy the fuck out of me.

eating my food, not paying bills (including a phone bill worth 8oobux) or rent for two of the four (4!) months, showing up to mess the place with her cock du jour, using my laundry soap and stealing my clothes approximately once a week, and generally fucking with my impression of people on a whole. i mean, this was supposed to be my BEST friend, right? and we were...oh my god, were we ever! we were always together since the day we met. even still, though she offered to return my UNDERWEAR, i just could not continue in the farce. i was pissed righteously off. and let's be clear - i have zero problem being righteous when it comes to shit like stealing my much stretched mother love bone tapes. you don't fuck around with a girl's 90's love rock! she (let's call her.....regina) had criticized my love of seattle based ear fodder many times. she looked me up and down with my mudhoney t-shirt, lovingly frayed cut offs worn over black tights with 18-hole doc martin's throwing my feet forward on every beat matt cameron ever threw... and scoffed.

in re-jay-jay's defence, that was coming from a girl who had influenced me at one era in my life to wear white short tights over a white thong while sportin' a teeny cropped cherry red sweater, slouch socks and black l.a. gears & boppin' to either skid row, britny fox, or l.a. guns . i may not be over endowed with jiggly northern slopes, (thank GAWD) but thanx to several years of gymnastics, dance, free weights, and not being a lazy fucker, everything i did have was in exactly the right spot. yes, i am one of the original and rare pre-millenium early 1990 thong wearers! (- but i wore them even before that cun- oops, i mean regina came around...haHA, just not after she 'borrowed' them! *pickle face* ew!)

i met regina in foods class circa mid-september, grade 11. i was up to my usual shenanigans of not attending classes the first week or so of every year -

"pardon me, where was i? well, my class got switched, so i think i might've been in mechanics at that time yesterday, sorry! i've got things straightened out now, don't worry..."

- and i sat at the only available spot left....beside regina. okay - first impressions? she's super fox hot, seemed cool and was lookin' at me the same way i was lookin' at her. a little bitchy and territorial, but with a swift recognition that combat would be futile - we were equals. it was l-u-v luv at first sight. (i'm not usually competitive, but if someone wants to pull rank on me? oooee, mama, you'd better be good!) for some reason probably also relating to attendance, i had wound up with one of the much coveted huge lockers to myself and moved her in promptly. we were then inseparable for the next few years, save for time spent with respective boyfriends which came and went.

she and i had quite a time, we did. starting at 16, we went to many, many concerts, stayed in the city, went to bars, had musician boyfriends, and had an avid common interest in rear of the stage festivities that seemed to happen after shows. that would turn out to be the bane of our relationship. i can honestly tell you that not even one boob was flashed, nor cock was sucked by myself to get anywhere i ever got to go. that was regina's department. some of her more notable fucks range from popular local rock stars (unnamed with purpose for protection of my secret identity) (hey, where's my remote control?...) to the likes of sebastian bach and jason newstead, among others. a new generation of pamela des barres, groupie-dom if you will...as a matter of fact, that's what i should've named her! lol, but regina suits her, trust me.

most of the reason behind our demise was one mr. newstead, sadly enough. she was calling him in places like fucking ohio and fucking missouri in the fucking afternoon, damn it! and she was gone half the time because she was driving all over who knows where to follow him around with some other chick she met in alaska doing the same thing, only the other cun- oops, i mean regina's friend was with lars and multiple roadies.

regina and i went to metallica's 1990(?) snake pit tour show and got spotted by roadies playing hackey sack out back of the venue. of course we were back there by the busses, 'cause that's where the cool kids hung out. they asked if we wanted pit passes for the big area in the middle of the stage reserved for vip's and high cash customers. after calmly and rationally discussing it we said in perfectly coifed unison:

"FUCK YEAH!"

fast forward to near the end of the show and jason newstead's guitar tech came and introduced himself while holding out two round back stage passes. we kinda looked at each other in disbelief - nay, SHOCK - and came out with another perfectly coifed, all be it sweatier (thank you, i.c.e. mist):

"FUCK YEAH!"

fast forward to us sitting and waiting and waiting and sitting and almost wanting to head home 'cause we still had a long drive. we actually got stopped by the same guitar tech dude (i keep thinking his name was rick. no, for real...) when we got up to go. he told us we had to stick around, and not long after, their royal metal majesties graced us with their presence. well, everyone but james. we never did see him again outside of show times through our adventure, at least the time i was around for, anyway. he had taken off to go on a fishing trip at a nearby popular stretch of river just outside the suburb i grew up in. same spot i used to fish with my dad, actually.

anyway, to slap on another thick layer of shock, jason hands his tech a room key and says, "just in case," then turns to us and asks if we would like to join them at their hotel for a party. uhhhh, as soon as i picked my jaw up, i said:

"FUCK YEAH"

so, the next little portion is a bit of a blur, but it mostly consisted of regina and i running and leaping to her car and squealing. we pulled into the underground parking at the hotel and when we put the card key up to the thingee, we heard:

"good evening, mrs, case. will you be needing assistance to your room this evening?"

well, smack me up and call me a whore. jason didn't say 'just in case.' he said, 'justin case', get it? mrs. justin case? just in case.....just in case you wanna make some little metal girl's dreams come true, hand her this key and give her a week she'll never forget! while straightening out our autographed slash-sided spandex shorts and half tops, we got into our room and tried to calm the fuck down. we stayed with them that night, drinking with jason and lars and their crew in one of their rooms. the next day we hung out mostly with jason going shopping and eating, all the while with two to four bodyguards with us who even stood outside bathroom doors and escorted us to the ice things in the hallways. weeeeeeeeird. cool, but weeeeeeeeird.

there was another show that night, so after while we were waiting , instead of sticking around in the mess of other fans in the reserved area, we got to go for a totally insane cab ride with rick. he was giving the cabbie 20's to go through red lights and make other such illegal moves while cranking his stereo. it was hilarious! i hope he wasn't too terrorized. though the probable extra 200 bones he had in his pocket by the end of the ride made it all worth while.

the next day we had to head back home, but had plans to meet them in seattle with rick's personal cell brick #, then onto portland and oakland, ca. we had so much fun that week on such a surreal level. sometimes it still seems like it was a dream or something, even when i look at all the autographed passes, t-shirts, programs, and hotel stuff. we didn't have a camera to use, so we bought a couple throw away ones. one of them had fucky film, but we got 5 good shots(which the cun- oops, i mean regina also scooped when she left our apartment the last time) and the other one disappeared into the void on our travels, so i have no visuals, save for the plays in my head. regina had quit school the previous year, actually not long after we met, so she was free to go to alaska and a couple others dates. i, however, had to resume my previous career as a scholar. one day i'll tell you about my high school experience, but right now i'll just throw in the brew that i was an honour roll student. none of my escapades stopped me from letting anyone think i was stupid. usually.

the following year metallica came back on a tour with guns and roses and we got a call from rick, if you can believe it! we had tickets and a room waiting for us! tres cool, non? say it with me now:

"FUCK YEAH"

so anyway, long story short, this was when regina racked up my phone bill and went to butt fuck, iowa with her new friend that had latched on to her in alaska. luckily, i had a friend who had just bought a 3 bedroom house in a 'burb closer to the big city, which is where i ultimately wanted to be. in the city sucking all the energy in and spitting it out frantically onto a page - paper, a napkin, anything i could find. by that i mean writing. alot of poems and prose, specifically. i rented a room at my friend's house for a few month until i got a place in the city, and moved on.

i've only seen regina a few tmes over the many years since then. at one point we attempted a reconciliation, but she wouldn't pay her fucking phone bill, so i took her to court for it. then she didn't like me very much. awww, poor regina had someone make her be responsible for a change....aww, oobie fucking boobie. eat me. there's a few other tales i could spill about why i named her cun- oops, i mean regina, but i don't feel like it. i wouldn't feel that way without good reason.

so! let that be a lesson to my life mates:
watch your treatment of the fine teague, or you shall be emblazoned with a moniker suitable for many, many jests. for example:
dick, peter, twaterelli, or fuckface.
or regina.

you know that rhymes with vagina, right? and a vagina is sometimes referred to as a cun- oh, never mind.