mrtl

Yes, Woman, I'm Blogging About Your Tits

A dear friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

When she told me, she quickly tried to distract me from the mortification by tasking me. i.e., "I have breast cancer and I want you to knit me some tits, soft ones like you made for [our friend]." How freaking awesome is that?

Seriously, woman, if you wanted me to knit you something, you could have asked. You didn't have to go and get breast cancer. Sheesh.

::tangent for public service announcement for anyone breaking this kind of news::
There couldn't be a better way to break bad news. Know this. My moment of "OMG! This is horrible! What can I do? I don't know what to do! I'm on the other side of the country; I'm helpless!" lasted only a second until she finished her thought. I didn't spend the rest of our time chatting with my mind racing to determine how I was going to be able to support this friend in kicking cancer's ass or being angry that there was little I could offer from so far away. Instead I was able to focus completely on being a good listener.

I am amazed at my friend's presence of mind to have something planned out, but this is an anomaly. Usually they will not let you know, which is completely understandable. They're usually too caught up in trying to figure out what the hell they're going to do; how they're going to hold their shit together; how they're going to break the news to others; where they're going to find the strength needed to fight.

::tangent within a tangent for supporters::
Too often when we hear this news, we say since we're clueless, "If you need ANYTHING, just let me know." It's likely you'll never get such feedback, so its better to be proactive. Keep in touch. Make offers. Overextend. Dare to be annoying.
::end tangent within a tangent for supporters::

^^ Fighters reading this - anything to add? Am I completely off in saying this? Please give a clue to the clueless. I'm assuming that you'll let us know if we're overstepping, and less likely to know if you need more.
::end tangent for public service announcement for anyone breaking this kind of news::

While this dear friend is clear on wanting some tits (and a hat, too), she can't be bothered with the minutia like color choices. Initially I considered a nice pale orange pair of melons, but then she mentioned that she can't stand orange. I'm afraid that watermelons will show through light clothes. Honeydews don't scream "bodacious tatas" to me for some reason (probably a stigma attached of the "honeydo" list, which requires a man, and this situation is all about girl power). Flesh is so boring.

I keep thinking about ninjas. Ninjas are fucking awesome fighters. Black shows through, too, though, so I'd have to make more than one set. Doable in the time frame. Wouldn't it be disturbing to have eyes on the tits? Maybe a nice little throwing star as a nipple will work. Seeing these remind me a lot of Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction, though. I'd have to make sure she doesn't hate Janet Jackson.

I also envision knitting a hand design over the top so she feels constantly fondled. This will help especially when her husband is away. Would it be wrong to use mister mrtl as a hand model? Maybe better to use my own hands. Our husbands have met; I wouldn't want to send her inappropriate tits. OOOOH - I know whose hands she'd love to grope her... Nothing quite like the feel of something new. Brilliant!

The bigger challenge may be finding my sticks.

Suggested Links:

the pattern
store and care guidelines
starfish aka throwing star aka Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction
ninja balaclava
essential ninja accessories
cat ninja hat, because it's awesome

When I Went Insane

My head begins to spin and my arms start to tighten against my sides when I consider writing about this. It was that bad. We're talking about my former job, the job I began after leaving teaching, that was a perfect fit for me, that I even took on the road with me when mister mrtl and I began maddening around the land. My stomach still gets knotted up and my chest sore remembering how bad things got before... well, I can't really say I let go before they did, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Despite no longer working for the company, I won't go into too many details. I'm not out for vengeance, and I guess there's a part of me that really can't stand to burn bridges. Pardon the generally-spoken nature.

Story Time with mrtl

For a period of about nine months, I was in work hell. Summarily, what could possibly go wrong with a project went wrong with this project. Whenever I started to think I had control of the tasking, some new issue would rear its ugly head. Blame a number of factors, circumstances, and people involved, or not, but what resulted was a perfect storm o' shite. The easiest way to look back on it is to say that what I was doing was in no way telecommutable, but it probably wouldn't have fared much better if distance hadn't been a factor.

To maintain a degree of levity, I started paying attention to the signals my body was sending. I used these signals to design a customized straight jacket, the details of which I will list below. Mind you that each detail represents some issue that had arisen.

Initially, the design for the straight jacket and adjustments were made as I received changes to my tasking from the office. (e.g., "Sure, I'll change the subject name 'widgy widget' to 'widgity widget' throughout, even though I just changed it from 'widgity widget' to 'widgy widget' throughout per your request YESTERDAY. You owe me a straight jacket for that," or "Chapter 6 needs to be moved to Chapter 4, with all references adjusted accordingly? Oh, no, it's no problem at all, but would have been nice to have been told that the other day when Chapter 10 moved to Chapter 3 and all the references were adjusted then. Make that straight jacket a salmony shade of pink, please." or "'Widgity Widget' is supposed to be capitalized every time? You betcha! Add some fringe for me, hon!")

BODY SIGNAL / Accommodating Design

• I NEED A STRAIGHT JACKET / A straight jacket
• I WANT IT TO BECOME ME / A salmony shade of pink
• I WANT IT FANCY / Fringed (I normally avoid fringe, but since I wouldn't have to worry about accidental dipping and dirtying with restricted movement)
• AND BLINGED / Bedazzled (Another thing to avoid, but I was starting to lose it)
• I'LL PROBABLY GET RASHY FROM WEARING IT SO MUCH / Lined with purple alpaca to prevent chafing
• I NEED MY DAMMIT DOLL / Shoulder pocket holding dammit doll (note input from Naval Engineer in my office that pocket and doll not appropriate -- "What the hell do you need a pocket for on a straight jacket? How are you going to grab your dammit doll?" -- almost proved a setback in the design process -- fortunately a coworker suggested throwing myself against the wall to bang the doll, so it was a keeper)
• I NEED A DRINK / Camelbak ("integral beverage resevoir") to hold copious amounts of alcohol (originally this feature was a flask concealed under the dammit doll, but moved due to certain injury from slamming against the wall to bang the dammit doll) - The Camelbak is not actually visible in view (thus the "integral")
• I WANT TO ROCK IN A FETAL POSITION UNDER MY DESK / Quick-release padded bustle provides cushioning for butt when I drop (originally designed as a rocker-type chair attachment, which would have hung from the jacket and hindered movement -- my coworker said it looked hideous and suggested the bustle)
• AYFKM? YOU'D THINK I'M ASKING FOR THIS ABUSE / "Thank you sir, may I have another" on arms (originally on front, but moved to sleeves for visibility)
• I NEED A LOBOTOMY / "INTENTIONALLY BLANK" on the back
• I WANT TO SLAM MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL / Matching head bumpa to protect head when banging it on desk or wall.
• THIS IS MAKING ME SO INSANE IT MAKES ME MISS WORKING ON [INSERT LESS INSANITY-INDUCING PROJECT FROM THE PAST] / Embroidered patches for each project will adorn the brim (moved from the jacket so the mere sight of them doesn't cause fits)

The coworker who helped with changes listed above captured the design in this white board sketch when I was in the area working in the office. Behold the greatness!

 

 

 

 

Yeah. I never really recovered from this project, and ultimately decided to take a break from working. The girls were home full-time for the summer, so I quickly got conflicted trying to determine which insanity was the lesser.

The Ballad of Courageous Sir Kucinich

(sung to the tune of "The Ballad of Brave Sir Robin" in Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Rep. Kucinich sues over olive pit in sandwich

Courageously Sir Kucinich rode forth to Capitol Hill
He was not afraid to eat, courageous Sir Kucinich!
He was not at all afraid to go to the cafeteria,
Cour-a-geous Sir Kucinich!
He was not the least bit scared to order a sandwich wrap,
Or to crunch an olive pit and not spit it out;
To break a tooth and require procedures;
Orally injured Sir Kucinich!

Unwholesome and quite nasty wrap;
Unfit for human consumption crap;
Feeding pits into his yap;
Loss of enjoyment for this chap;
Sue them, he's that kind of sap,
Courageous Sir Kucinich!

Talk about frivolous lawsuits. $150,000? Seriously? I cracked a tooth on a piece of Wrigley's years ago, but you didn't see me suing. There is a statute of limitations for this stuff, anyway, right?

This story has overcome me. I woke up this morning with the image of Kucinich chasing me with olives on his fingers. Creepy!

I'd love to believe that Kucinich has a goal here that is not entirely self-serving. As I mused on Facebook earlier:

There is going to be a congressional committee created to address the concerns raised here. There will be an uproar in this country as the dangers of olive pits are made known. People will not feel safe eating sandwich wraps alone. Sandwich shops offering wraps will be picketed. It will be anarchy. Mark my words.

You know why this happened? Child labor laws, which restrict the opportunity for a youngster present at said sandwich shops checking all olives for pits before the sandwiches are made. I bet this wouldn't happen in some other countries. The committee will surely recommend youth QA oversight to avoid future dental tragedies.

Speaking of child labor practices, once the olives have been fingered (aka boogered up) to be checked for pits, they could be tasked with ensuring that fries are loosely packaged. As I've said before, it should be a crime to not have straggler fries.

Kucinich is running in 2012, isn't he? Sandwich Reform shall be the platform.

It's All Crap (if you need it all tied together... not that you'd tie crap together... unless you're a sick, sick person)

At Christmas, Bug made a bunch of signs to decorate her room. Included was one reading "JEASUS." She said that Jesus is the reason for Christmas, and the sign was a reminder of that. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

::tangent to pat mister mrtl on the back::
Kudos to mister mrtl for his restraint in not lecturing Bug about research done showing that Jesus was more likely born in the summer and the alignment of Pagan festivals with Christianism. If it was mentioned in passing, there was no PowerPoint presentation involved. Not like mister mrtl likes to create PowerPoint presentations to review information with the girls, though that would be highly entertaining.
::end tangent to pat mister mrtl on the back::

It was only a matter of time before her attendance at a Christian school led to some conditioning, as shown in her desire to have her own copy of the Bible for her birthday. We've maintained with her that she can believe as she wants, and that we will love and support her no matter what. So long as she doesn't make people who think differently feel that they're wrong or bad for not agreeing with her.

::tangent to add mental note to mister mrtl::
Since the book about world religions order never was filled, we really should look for another.
::end tangent to add mental note to mister mrtl::

Bug's conviction usually only appears around holidays. We know that there's regular religious content (blessings for meals, prayers, and chapel), it's surprising that we don't hear more regularly. She doesn't ask to do blessings at meals, and she's never asked if we can go to church. (I believe she would have asked if she was interested. She's been to services with my parents, which probably explains her lack of interest here. Roman Catholic services haven't changed much since I was a kid, and they're certainly not the most riveting.)

Anyway, this post wasn't about Bug's religion, but moreso about her ability to think differently and not feel conflicted about thinking differently than her parents. It is why I have been so thrilled to hear that, despite several commercials advertising the release of Justin Bieber's life story next month, she has made it very clear that she Does Not want to see it.

Hopefully I don't jinx myself in talking about this. The power of advertising can be very strong, as seen the first time the girls walked down the "As Seen on TV" aisle at Walgreen's. OMG OMG OMG! Fusigi! Big Top Cupcake! Bump It! Their glee in seeing -- touching the boxes of -- all these mystical products they'd only seen in commercials was akin to the giddiness of the children entering Willy Wonka's factory. The spell was only broken when Bug questioned one product that she'd never seen on TV:

Bug: "What's a Booty Pop, Mommy?"
mrtl: "It's something women put in their pants to make their butts look bigger."
Jem: "HAHAHAHHAH! You said, 'BUUUUUTTT!!'"
Bug: "Why would they want their butts to look bigger?"
Jem: "They look like they have POOPY in their BUTTS!"
Bug and Jem: ::dancing with butts back and forth:: "Booty! Booty! Booty! My butt is so big!! I've got poopy in my butt!!"

How I Spent My Blogging Vacation

From May 13, 2009 to January 22, 2011, I never posted anything here. It's worse on the girls' blogs. I am not beating myself up about this; just stating the facts.

In short order, here's a synopsis of the time lost. I may expound on some of these later. Or not. I'll make no promises.

• Continual: South Carolina sucks.
• Continual: The affect of ADHD meds is very inconsistent. This sucks.
• Continual: Facebook distracted me.
• July 2009: Escape to Portland to see my BFF, during which we had a FFD (female-female-doughnut).
• Summer 2009: Drawing a complete blank beyond the escape. Will have to consult Facebook, but won't now since it will surely distract me.
• August 2009: My 20th high school reunion, which led to more Facebook distraction.
• August 2009 - May 2010: Work begat insanity begat departure from work, but not before I forayed into straight jacket design.
• May 2010 - August 2010: Kids home for summer. Where's that straight jacket?
• June 2010: I finally got back to Alaska.
• July 2010: Bathroom makeover hell begins (and has yet to end).
• August 2010: School started with intentions of being enthusiastic room mother and helper at school. Haha. Oh, and my full-time job is supposed to be preparing the house to go on the market. HAHA!
• October 2010: Mister mrtl's six-month deployment to the sandbox gets reassigned. Thrilled to have him home; not thrilled to lose single momma superhero powers.
• October 2010: Death of former colleague from the Job That Drove Me Insane. Surreality in reentering that circle to attend his funeral.
• November 2010: After reconciling that our next move would most likely be to Florida (no offense, Florida, you're just ridiculously hot), mister mrtl gets assigned to the DC area. We move in May. The girls and my parents couldn't. be. more. thrilled.
• January 2010: Crunch time to get house ready. I just want to sleep.

The Power of Smell

While driving the girls to school this morning:

Bug: "I smell something nasty!! It smells like poop."

mrtl: "Is someone windy?"

Bug: "I'm not!"

Jem: "I'm not windy! I don't have a stinky buuuttt! AAAAAHAHAHAHA!"

a few minutes later

mrtl: "Bug, do you still smell that smell?"

Bug: "Well, not really. Only when I breathe in."

mrtl: laughing "You're too funny!"

Bug: hardened "I meant when I breathe in through my nose."

::tangent for a side note::
Bug does not like to be laughed at unless she is trying to be funny or silly. If she says something unintentionally amusing, she thinks people are laughing at her and gets very butt sore. She's even cried. Mister mrtl and I are constantly trying to thicken her skin over this, because her buttons are so obvious sometimes that there will surely be kids who take full advantage. This was one of those moments I wasn't going to press the point, because I didn't want her to enter school in tears. Don't judge me. I'm still a very mean mommy.
::end tangent for side note::

mrtl: "I see."

Jem: "I smell boogers."

The source of the smell is still unknown, but I cleaned the trash out of the van as a precaution.

Left or Straight?

That's right. Four hours and I'm back. I'm indulging myself during my multitasked laziness to wander a wonder. I'm also watching "American Idol," so it's a trifecta of lazy productivity. I'm feeling better already.

The dilemma: Two men are looking at imminent prison sentences (one framed, one guilty). They are driving together and stopped at a red light. Going straight will take them where they are supposed to be to address the charges against them. Going left will take them to Mexico. Which way do they go?

There's no answer. No conclusion. No closure. I can't stand cliffhangers, but "Terriers" isn't coming back, so we're all left to hang there and wonder. The storyline was all set up to ready us for the second season, which made it that much worse. All the curiosity and anticipation are shot, knowing that this is it. WHICH WAY DO THEY GO, damnit?! What happens with all the other subplots?

::tangent to vent just a little::
Television shows like this are doomed in our culture. The cast is excellent, the writing spectacular (props to whoever came up with the play on "I Love You for Sentimental Reasons" -- I digs me some naughty songs).

I'm getting tired of networks limiting us to medical dramas (need something "new"? let's make them doctors without borders!), who's-the-next-best-[blankety blank] talent shows, and yet another spin from CSI or Law and Order (is there another NCIS now? I don't pay attention to the crap anymore). Thank goodness for "Modern Family." If that gets cancelled to make room for another insipid drama or reality show I will cut someone.

::tangent to remove realistic threat of cutting someone::
Not to Palin myself if such a horrid thing should occur, I want it on record that I'm more likely to find a non-violent way of cutting someone. "Original Gangstaz" may be a place to start, but since that wasn't particularly fulfilling when work drove me insane last year, and I enjoy killing people by kicking them in the nuts so much, I think it'd be more suitable to get my hands dirty.

Ooooh! Crafts! I could make a victim out of food and then cut it. Like a Mr. Hotdog Man with spaghetti and various vegetables poked through him all voodoo style to make his arms, legs, hair, and all. Granted, he'd be all floppy after boiling, but it's workable; he won't be able to stand. Dousing him with ketchup will enhance the effect. I shall name him Jay, not that I'd want to imply killing Ed O'Neill, but because Sofia Vergara never fails to crack me up when she "YAYs!" at him, and I certainly want to take pleasure in cutting someone. "Yay! What's wrong?" "Yay! Why's your leg so noodly?" "Yay! Why you not answer me?" "Yay! Who cut you?" "YAY!" "YAY!!! You're dead!!"

Of course, I'd then want to eat Jay, since he'd be so yummy looking, all cut up and ready to go. Would that ruin the imagery? Make me look like a cannibal? Oh my head. Let's hope this doesn't happen anytime soon so I can more carefully figure out the plan.
::end tangent to remove realistic threat of cutting someone::

Where was I? The levity helped. The vent may end now.
::end tangent to vent just a little::

::new tangent to note and address input from the peanut gallery::
At this point, I'm giggling to myself as I type, and mister mrtl asks me what I'm doing. I give him a brief synopsis, including the mention of writing Sofia Vergara into a "Terriers" Mexican adventure.

Ever the Man of Hispanic Studies, he points out that Vergara is Not Mexican.

Duh, I know that. She's Colombian, from the same town as Shakira. Did you know that mister smartypants?

So now tell me, which would be worse? Possibly offending a Colombian by requesting to cast her as a Mexican, or insulting a Colombian by suggesting that she couldn't possibly play a Mexican? Who would be a better choice? Scarlett Johansson? While Johansson rocked a great Jersey accent on SNL, I don't think she can yell, "Yay!" with the same energy. I think I'll trust Vergara's range.

We're not in "I couldn't find a picture of a ship, so I had to use a house" territory here, you know?
::end new tangent to note and address input from the peanut gallery::

See, now I'm totally off track on what I thought Hank and Britt would do when the light turns green. My tangents done tangented me. New verb?

I was going to say that they go straight, but then Britt complains of being hungry. Surely they should have a decent meal before going to jail. That food will suck. Hank agrees this is a very good idea, suggesting that if they go back take a right, there's a good spot not far down. The toe goes in the pool... They go, they eat, then they head back. There's more to lose if they run. Besides, Mexico would challenge sobriety. What goes better with carne asada than an ice cold Dos XX? And what if they're at a bar that has poppers? Hank would be totally screwed... not to say that Britt should really avoid drinking himself.

::tangent to define poppers::
It's been twenty years since I dared to venture into Tia Juana, so who knows if these are still a popular "gift" to bestow upon a buddy in a bar. Buy someone a popper, and he'll be assaulted, grabbed from behind into a headlock and tipped backward in his chair, have cheap and watered-down tequila poured down his throat, and then have his head jerked back and forth so violently with the crook of the giver's arm that a collar would prove a much more appropriate chaser than a taco.

There are not enough lawyers in the U.S. to entertain a popper option for those who can't stand hearing the birthday song. I'm just saying.
::end tangent to define poppers::

Despite how bad an idea it would be, I want them to turn left. If they go to Mexico, Sofia Vergara could show up. I don't care how she's written in, as long as she can yell "Yay!" And hey, maybe Shakira can make an appearance, too. She can sing and shake her booty. And Vergara could yell at people to stay clear of the booty. Yeah. I can totally see that. Maybe it all could be a dream sequence, so more random and crazy shit could happen.

Now that that's settled, should the show come back as a series, making a jump in time like "Desperate Housewives," or should there be a "The Brady Girls Get Married" type movie to give us an update on how Winston the dog is doing (That's right, Winston should get due credit here, being the dog on a show named after dogs. Winston really needs a better agent.)? Either way, I would highly suggest that Donal Logue and Michael Raymond-James take Winston with and spend some down time south of the border, capturing some special moments to serve as visual bridges once this brilliance is exhumed.

Speaking of exhumations, I also really miss "Pushing Daisies," especially the knitting and pie and Kristin Chenoweth. Crossover shows can be so much FUN, can't they? CAN'T THEY!? A girl can dream of dream sequences.

I really must continue to practice more effectively wasting my time.

Urges

guilt: "Mrtl, dear, shouldn't you get up and [insert any of a number of projects needed to be finished before the house goes on the market in a couple weeks]? Aren't you feeling stressed about that? However are you going to get it all done?"

mrtl: "I'm feeling stressed, guilty for procrastinating so long, and ashamed over wasting so much time. Usually the stress drives me, but I think I procrastinated too long."

procrastination: "You know you love a challenge!"

mrtl: "Shut up, bitch. You held out on me too long this time, and it's atrophying. If I were a penis, I'd be well beyond the four-hour window of opportunity and forced into retirement, and not a pleasant type that involves any happy ending."

self-loathing: "Cry me a river. You brought this on yourself, insisting that you were so HANDY that you were capable of getting all this done on your own."

guilt: "Which, if I may remind you, should have been much closer to being done by now. You stopped working in May, and you planned to do some part time work. Didn't you also join a gym? You're lucky Sugar Daddy is so patient and understanding of your 'issues.'"

self-loathing: "Tsk, tsk, tsk... Why do you have to be so... so... chemically-resistant ADHD?"

mrtl: "I know. Too bad excuses aren't fairies and gnomes."

creativity: "But really, if you're sitting on your ass anyway, why not get something else done? It's been ages since you've blogged, knit, or made a pie. Those things have made you so happy in the past."

socialization: "And how about talking to your friends? When's the last time you spackled your cracks?"

::tangent to explain crack spackling::
"While [busy women who have time for friends] also have limited time to devote to pals, they spackle them into the cracks of their lives. They realize friends are essential to a solid foundation, a necessity, not a luxury." -Marla Paul, Making and Keeping Friends as an Adult
::end tangent to explain crack spackling::

guilt: "You've totally neglected your friends, not returning messages or checking in with them on Facebook. When was the last time you checked in with the mom group? You should at least go to the site and turn off those annoying email reminders."

self-loathing: "Damn those things. I bet everyone who gets them hates you, or has filtered your email to spam."

mrtl: "I'm feeling worse. Thanks."

creativity: "Writing will help you work through those feelings. Don't consider it wasting time; consider it multitasking laziness."

pie optimism: "Make a pie. Pie Day is this week. Taste success. It will motivate you."

mrtl: "Creativity and Pie Optimism, I like how you think."

mrtl goes to Typepad and, even though it's been over a year since she last signed in, she gets the password on the first try. This never happens. [insert happy dance]