mrtl

One Step Forward, Several Back

The plan was to take some time off to find myself. Not entirely true... I'm too possessive of my job to just go away; my trip to Hawaii was my first true holiday in years. I requested a part time leave of absence for a couple months, "needing some time." I made a list of no fewer than 80 items that I planned to get done during this freed-up time (including figuring out how to balance my life when I go off the LOA). My boss's response to my request is indicative of why I love her: "Your first priority should be getting a massage."

That was Monday. I hung up with her and, taking her advice to heart, scheduled a massage.

Tuesday morning Jem woke up with a horrid cough and a high temperature. I got a couple hours of work done because Jem likes to come over and hit buttons on the laptop, and cried when I took the laptop where she couldn't go. She was in good spirits, though, and played while I got laundry done and the kitchen cleaned up.

Wednesday morning Jem woke up with an even more horrid cough and a high temperature. I cancelled my massage and took her to the doctor instead. The doctor couldn't diagnose her. Croup, maybe. Jem ended up sleeping most of the day, so I got more work done. Still behind.

Today is Thursday. Jem was home again today. Today wasn't pleasant. Today Jem was hacking and heaving and crying and wheezing and panting and coughing and runny-ing and not wanting to sleep and wanting to sleep and wanting to sleep on me but not wanting a blanket and not wanting me to rub her back and wanting to be held and not wanting to be held and wanting to eat and not wanting to eat. Today I found it hard to believe that Jem was more miserable than I. Today I called mister mrtl at work and begged him to bring home alcohol.

Mister mrtl is home now. My drink awaits, but I don't want it yet because I want to run out and buy yarn for this. Yes, in my time away from blogging, I've become a bit of a knitter. I've knitted two scarves, two dolls for Bug (both unfinished), three thug hats, and one wig (not counting the several attempts at making another that have failed and the one I'm working on now). Someday soon I'll make one of these for Pievan. weeee!

Heee. Intent here was to be miserable about my day. I'm so tired. But writing this made me feel better, and listening to Bug and mister mrtl argue over what story to read for bedtime and how incredibly cute and sweet the two are, I'm now in a good mood. And I get to go help Bug brush her teeth.

Good night all.

The Balancing Act ~ Step I

One night not long ago I found myself at a karaoke club, looking through a book and trying to figure out what song I would sing. I've never done karaoke before and had no intentions of ever doing it. That night was different, though. Maybe I felt empowered by the women I was with, who were unafraid to go up there. Maybe it was the one drink I had. Maybe it was because they all seemed crazier (in a good way) than I. Whatever. Lame as my musical preferences are, I could not find one song to my liking to sing before we left. I was left with the question: What song would I sing? It was a week later, driving with mister mrtl in Hawaii and listening to the radio that I discovered my song. Whitney. "Saving All My Love For You." Not that I empathize with the sentiment of the song, just parts of it. And it's funny to hear myself try to keep the tune. Now I feel prepared. Weee.

Such questions have plagued me before, considering the unconsiderable. A long time ago, I considered what tattoo I would get if I were ever to get one, and where I would put it. I decided that I would get a the rune wyn. It means balance (or joy, as this site says, which totally applies, too). I would get it on the palm of my hand, something I could never let go of.

Lately I've been out of balance. Hopefully writing will help bring it back. Baby steps, though. I'm not trying to figure it all out today. More later.

The Definition of Daddy Dan

Today I saw a personalized license plate that made my mouth drop open. It read "SMEGMA." Smegma? That was actually approved for a license plate? Do you know what smegma is? I happen to know the definition by heart.

Smegma: Noun. A foul-smelling, cheese-like, sebacious secretion formed on the clitoris or the foreskin of the penis.

Why on earth do I still remember that? Flashback to my sophomore year in high school when my brother had a friend named Danny.

Story Time with mrtl

Danny was one of those guys for whom the song "Mirror in a Bathroom" was written. ("Can I take you to a restaurant that's got glass windows? You can watch yourself while you are eating.") Every mirror was Danny's best friend. He loved to gaze at himself and flex his muscles. He would make kissy faces at himself while doing so, thinking no one saw (or maybe he did and just didn't care, as narcissistic as he was). Not that mrtl could say he was terribly attractive or built; the fact that he chewed made him icky. That he knew the definition for "smegma" and repeated it often enough for her to still remember it -- with her memory! -- twenty years later sealed the deal.

There was something about Danny, though. He was an interesting fellow. He was older, but no one questioned why he hung out with them (them being mrtl -- his friend's little sister -- and a group of other girls that she met through her brother). Mrtl didn't remember him making a move on any of them; he was more like an older brother... or a father.

::tangent with random memory::
There was one night involving alcohol that mrtl's friend ended up on Danny's lap. "Daddy Dan! Daddy Dan! Can I have a horsey ride?" "Why, of course, little girl," [in the smarmiest Chester the Molester voice] "Hop on!"

Come to think of it, wasn't "Chester the Molester" his nickname?
::end tangent with random memory::

Danny taught mrtl how to drive a stick shift and shuttled the "kids" around every so often. As a matter of fact, he was mrtl's "adult supervision" the night she -- at 15 -- was the group's designated driver to a party in a neighboring town. (mrtl shudders to think of her own daughters' growing up) All was going ducky until he had to pee and instructed mrtl to stop at a McDonald's when they got back to their hometown. Finding nowhere to park, and he about to wet himself, Danny jumped out. Circling the parking lot was no fun when "cruising the mall" was the thing to do, so mrtl's two friends and she did just that. The cop waved them down on our way back into the McDonald's parking lot.

::tangent with rant::
There was absolutely no good reason for that fucker to pull mrtl over beyond the fact that she looked 12. At 4'10 1/2" and without a phone book to sit on, it was pretty hard for her to see over the steering wheel of the Impala. Whatev.
::end tangent with rant::

Long story short, the $250 ticket and 5 points was reduced after a court appearance to $50. Danny was fined $100 for failing to supervise a driver with a learner's permit. Mrtl's parents weren't very happy with her... moreso when they learned (while at the MVA getting her license a few months later) that this was not her first run-in with the law (a speeding ticket on Dad's Honda Elite while cruising the neighborhood while they were out of town).

----

Oh, youth.