Modern Lives

We call her the bitchpuss for a reason. But before I get to that, a little early biography . . . She came to use a few weeks after our first anniversary at our first apartment, way back in 1999, when Clinton was still president, gas was 99 cents a gallon, and I had just turned 21 and finished my first semester at college. This tiny voice in the bushes outside our apartment building started mewing at me as I headed off to class. Stooping to peer through the bushes, I discovered the tiny furry black source—and she discovered me! About six-weeks-old and all black except for a white star on her chest, she came tottering out of the bushes and straight toward me. I picked her up and gave a little rub on the head, but being that I was running late, I quickly put her back down under the bushes and convinced myself that she must belong to the people in the apartment behind the bushes (never mind that it was vacant). When I returned from class I didn't see or hear her, so I figured her own...

I just wanted to share some videos of Xander and Joxer. Enjoy!

Ever feel like a bat trapped in a bra ? Suffocating in your warm coziness? Or maybe you feel like a headless bunny sometimes. It's that feeling of contentment mixed with frustration with a just a dash of insanity (or maybe a dollop if your insanity comes in a thick, cream-based form). Usually, you're content except for some extremely frustrating and difficult circumstances. Maybe it's one or two things, or it could be a multitude of things, but everyone's dealt with this at some point. For me, it's several things. Tim's job, my difficulty in making time to write, gas prices, and our debt. But it's that last one that is a constant weight whispering raspy discontents in my ear. So if everyone in Americaland could just send one dollar to my PayPal account, we could beat that motherfucker down, right off the ba— No? Well, it was worth a shot. Seriously, though . . . the last four things are so inextricably intertwined, it becomes a tenuous balancing act. If any...

Wow. Long time, huh? It has been almost exactly 18 months since my last post. I almost could've had a couple a kids since I last wrote. And actually, I guess I have. You see, we've adopted two dogs in the past 12 months, Joxer and Xander. But I digress . . . Remember way back when, when I said it had been a crazy seven months? No? You've never read my blog before and all the people who used to read it have died or moved on, you say? Oh. Well scroll down a bit and read the previous post or two. Go on . . . I'll wait. . . . All done? Excellent. You see, in September 2006, Timmy was laid off. Nice, huh? For his company to lay him off nine months after buying a house was quite the crap on the head. That was followed by three depressing months of frantic job-searching and straining to make ends meet with my meager salary and his tiny unemployment checks. He finally landed a job near home, luckily (or so we thought). That job quickly revealed itself to be a Pandora...