M-is for the many things she gave me.
Current mood: thankful
Category: Life

Julie Ellen tudor-pierce
or
Our Mother of the blessed ever-virgin
(Which is what my friend Jim calls my mother because he is a big fan of sarcasm.)

For some time now I've wanted to write something about my mother and from the beginning I've always known I could never do her justice, so here's a little something just to let everyone know what a really kick ass sort of person she is and always has been.

From a very early age I have called my mother by her first name. She's said it used to just crack her up entirely when I would wake up from a nap in my crib and instead of crying, I would just stand and shout for her. "Julie!"
I once had a friend, not yet used to our little family dynamic, tell me how disrespectful she thought it was I called my mother by her name. I told her to just hang around for a bit and see if she wasn't completely convinced that my mother was more than any of those common 'endearing' titles which place some amazing people into neat little categories. I seemed to notice early on that this woman would be more than just my mother.

My mother met my father in high school. They started dating when they were fifteen and sixteen and they haven't looked back. When Floyd (my father) wanted to marry Julie and take her from a home with an overbearing and unaffectionate father they were met with opposition, of course, so they decided to become pregnant with my sister. They knew her parents would never stand in the way of their marriage at that point. They married in February and my sister Tiffany was born in August.

Both Floyd and Julie wanted their daughter to be as well adjusted as possible despite living in complete poverty so Julie stayed home and Floyd worked more than one job for years until Tiffany was ready to start school at age five….and then I surprised them. Needless to say, as soon as they decided I wouldn't be completely traumatized, Julie sought employment. She quickly decided working for peanuts wasn't going to be her lot in life and enrolled in nursing school. Floyd worked even harder to help get her through. She became an LPN first and continued with school while working full-time for years until she finally got her degree as a Registered Nurse.

Now, I hate telling this part of our story because it is intensely personal and painful and not a single person on the planet can understand what goes on in another person's family or how it affects that particular person. That being said, I feel it is necessary to her story and to show just how strong this woman is.

At some point, because of such great responsibility at such a young age or genetics or due to a series of tragic events (to be included in my father's story), my father, like his father and his father before him began to drink. He drank a great deal on occasion. In fact, he could get downright shitty with the three of us from time to time and this went on for years. Meanwhile, Julie was working, studying for her nursing degree and trying to shield her daughters from the periodic wrath that came from a long hard day on the job followed by a long night of drinking.

When I was a teenager several of my friends' parents were divorced and I can remember envying them on a regular basis. I used to feel complete contempt for my mother and her decision to stay with my father 'for better and for MUCH worse'. As an adult and as someone who's never experienced a love as deep as the love between my parents, I know I would much rather have our histories as is. We are still a closely bound foursome and the lengths that we would go for one another are boundless.

…SO, back to Julie's innate coolness. Somewhere along the way and maybe because of that whole 'birds of a feather' thing we all began to collect other misfits and wounded birds. Nothing brings people together like a shared sense of impending doom and the sense of humor that inevitably comes with survivors. It's the ones without levity who don't make it. Over the years my family's home has played host to other families who needed a place to stay, other kids in worse situations at home, and an endless list of people just needing a leg up. We never had much and still don't, but what we have is yours, should you need it.

I had a friend in high school and for a while after whose home life wasn't ideal. Over the years my parents looked out for him. He moved to Atlanta and they sent him money from time to time to help out. Later they gave him a place to live in one of their rental houses and he went for seven months without paying rent because he was having a bit of a drug problem at the time. They never said a word. Eventually he moved out on his own, probably from guilt.

I can't tell you how many times we've come up with plane or bus tickets and rides home from escape routes that didn't work out or plans gone awry. In my early twenties I happened to be a bit of a betty and met a BMX kid from Canada who got into a bit of trouble in Phoenix. He stopped at our house on his way across the border and Floyd and Julie gave him gas money to get there. Can you stand it? I didn't think so. These days they aren't harboring any fugitives but they do tend to be the first in mind when certain folks need a bit of bail money for minor infractions, mostly DUIs.

I have a friend who's been mine for thirteen years now. We lived together for a while and we shared some bad habits over the years. Even though he's gay we think of each other's mothers as 'the mother-in-law' because we will always be together and I love Diane and he loves Julie. Two years ago my friend got sick and the end result was congestive heart failure. He's been in and out of the horsepistol (his word: There's that sense of humor.) since then and his doctors have told him he will be unable to work. He has been outfitted with a defibrillator and told he will need a heart transplant. He's thirty-three. Anyway, for two years he's been fighting for disability and has had no source of income whatsoever…except for Julie. Another friend has moved him into his condo and his mother does what she can, but Julie has tried faithfully for the past two years to send him 'fun money' on a monthly basis. While visiting them on my birthday last month I gave him a card from my mother which she'd sealed before sending. He got more money than I did for my birthday. He deserved it and that turned out to be my favorite present this year.

Another dear friend who's become part of the family over the years is treated just like a daughter when Julie gets the chance. Her weight, like mine, has fluctuated over the years but Jules seems to have this strange sense of where we are at that time and is constantly buying clothes to suit us both. I don't know how she does it.

This weekend I stayed with my parents at their cabin at Lake Barkley. Oh yeah, some of my friends from Louisville fish in tournaments there. My folks told them to just get keys made and use the place when they need it, so Eric and Barry were there as well. Julie woke me early on Saturday morning so we could attend the Grand Rivers Community Sidewalk and Yard Sale (if you can't appreciate a good yard sale at seven in the morning, get out of my blog). As we stood on the sidewalk in front of a crazy little shop called So Cool, I don't know where my mind was that day but Julie turned to me and said, "What about this for Paula's birthday goody bag?"  

Currently listening : Punk - Attitude Release date: 06 September, 2005

8:37 AM - 14 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

It isn’t even the full moon.
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

Last night I dreamed my friend Rhonda and I, along with about thirteen other women, were trapped on a reality show in some hotel (gorgeous hotel at least) and set up on dates we'd been matched with on a popular internet dating site.

We became increasingly nervous as we watched the other women being picked up for their first dates. A lovely older woman was greeted by a scowling 'Walter Matthau as Oscar Madison' type. A super cute bookworm was picked up by some testosterone charged frat boy with (one could only guess) a pocket full of Rohypnol. It went on like this and then there was a call to our room as my first date had arrived.

"Oh Dear lord, let him be of at least average intelligence," I thought. I crept down the hall and as I reached the top of the curving staircase to the lobby, I was met by no less than three and a half people. I say 'half' because one of the men was holding a baby. This man handed his child off to an emaciated woman clearly accompanying the two men and approached me. "No! No! No!" I screamed in my head. He gestured over his shoulder with one hand and slurred something I assumed was an introduction to his friends and CHILD no less and with his other hand offered me an opened fifth of Jack Daniels.

I haven't a clue as to why I reached for the fifth as I don't drink whiskey and certainly not from a shared bottle, but as I took the fifth from his hand, he stumbled backward into his male friend and sent them both tumbling down the stairs. The woman yelled, "You blew it now for sure, Bobby!" He started back up the stairs to at least retrieve his liquor and I started to scream. They all turned and ran across the lobby and out the door of the hotel.

The dream then jumps to three of us sitting in the lobby awaiting three more dates to a show in the hotel. Behind us is a woman with an accent that can only be described as a much older, possibly Jewish woman long retired to Boca Raton from somewhere in New York. She was on her cell phone, which we all know some people think of as a string attached to a can, and was not using her 'inside voice'. Other people in the lobby were noticing and becoming equally annoyed by her one-sided conversation, when the third in our nervous little party just started singing one note. Long and loud…one note…and we all started to laugh. We were in complete hysterics by the time the old bag realized she was in a losing battle with an equally monotonous opponent.

So, here's what I think before a few of you, hopefully, weigh in on the subject. I think that since I've relocated to my small hometown of many screwed up individuals the dating pool has shrunk to a stagnant festering swamp. Still, I think I will never become a part of the most annoying form of television or visit, in my lifetime, an internet dating site. I'm sure this is an affirmation of my screechingly loud thoughts that I should get started on my journey back to Louisville and pretty darned soon.

The last part of my dream just tells me something else I already know. When you're just sitting there dreading what's about to walk through the door and someone is standing just out of sight dragging their fingernails across a chalk board again and again, leave it to your girlfriends to make you howl your asses off with laughter….and get up and do it again. Amen.

Currently listening : The Pretender By Jackson Browne Release date: 25 October, 1990

7:09 AM - 14 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Valentine Schmalentine
Current mood: bitchy
Category: Life

The Problem with February 14^th

   This morning I woke up early to take my grandmother Mary to get a blood test and then to the grocery. Now that it's much later in the afternoon and I haven't heard a peep from them, I'm convinced the floral delivery drivers came while I was out and are just to fed up with the cold weather to come back.

A friend of mine noticed several girls leaving comments on the MySpace page belonging to the man she's sleeping with. The remedy to this, were it to happen to any of you,

would be to then leave the following comment yourself:
"Who are all these women that seem to be so happy about my valentine? If I didn't talk to you every night and sleep with you on a regular basis this could be confusing. Happy Valentine's Day. I think I'm pregnant."

The best way to 'confuse' the men in your life is to stop by any grocery florist since you are already there taking advantage of the discount chocolate and pick yourself up a few bouquets of flowers (also on sale) the day after Valentine's Day. Be sure they've included the little cards on pitchforks (appropriate) and sign them as follows:                  
"XOXO"
"Thanks, Baby"
and
"Always"
Place around the home and be sure they stop by sometime after the 14^th. If any of them ask JUST SMILE.

I hope all you lovely ladies have had a wonderful day today and I hope I may've offered some insight into the art of torturing your "loved ones". Now let's get out there and kick some Cupid (rhymes with 'stupid' for a reason) ass!

Currently listening : Bad Reputation By Joan Jett Release date: 13 June, 2006

8:37 AM - 8 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

I love my friend Jim...
Category: Life

...for sending this:

Mrs. Betty Bowers' Dispatch from the Front Lines of America's War on Christmas

Dear Soldiers for the Baby Jesus: Once again, pagan combatants, wielding verbal grenades made of non-specific cheer, are on a militant rampage to retake the Winter Solstice, a holiday invaded and occupied by Christians over 1,700 years ago.  Friends, we stole December fair and square -- and are going to stay the coarse ones in turning a season devoted to love and joy into an vitriolic turf war all about us!

As America's foremost embedded reporter in the current War on Christmas, I am sending this encrypted message to you from the front lines: Macy's.

The first shopping skirmish of the season occurred when my Personal Shopper spotted secular insurgents maraudering behind the Estee Lauder counter.  I personally overheard several of these "Happy Holidays" extremists, uniformed in the Lauder infantry's blue, paramilitary smocks, boldly declare a jihad on the Baby Jesus' birthday.  As I feigned interest in an egregiously harloty shade of bright red lipstick, I overheard the make-up militia chant such bellicose, Christmas-hating greetings as "Have a wonderful holiday!" to civilian shoppers.  They also brandished IEDs (introductory exfoliating devices) to Christian foundation buyers, Bible-believing bargain hunters simply looking for a Christmas gift that came free with a $35 purchase.

Moments later, bell-ringing infantry from the Salvation Army were called in to drown out the battle cries of "Ho! Ho! Ho!" from a sidewalk Santa. This invasion appears to have been based on faulty intelligence as it turns out that the Santa bellowing "Ho! Ho! Ho!" was merely greeting Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Britney Spears as they drunkenly stumbled out of Neiman-Marcus. Before Baptist mercenaries realized this mistake, angry Pentecostal militia had already rounded up striped-stockinged enemy combatants (pint-sized operatives calling themselves "elves").  They were wrestled to the ground just outside of their bunker, a Styrofoam gingerbread house in Bloomingdale's window.

Yes, friends, this year's War on Christmas has been the most angry and dangerous yet.  Several shoppers' eyes were taken out as called-up shopoholic reservists from Landover Baptist Church carpet bombed mall parking lots with "Jesus is the Reason for 40% Off Selected Merchandise" Bible tracts.

Bill O'Reilly and I undertook a reconnaissance mission to undercover anti-Christmas propaganda militants.  Holiday hostilities began after I resourcefully used a "Noel" candle from Pottery Barn (which Bill mistook for a candy-striped pagan tribute to Jeb Bush's crackwhore daughter) to ignite an appalling "Peace on Earth" banner dangling just outside a notorious secular stronghold called Sephora.  As Bill jumped up and down on the flaming banner, he screamed at frightened eye-shadow and fragrance browsers, "Peace on earth?  You can take your anti-troops, anti-Bush, pinko pacifistic agitprop and shove it right up your --"

Fortunately, a resourceful spritz of "Hillary Duff with Love" Eau de Parfum Spray not only prevented Bill from completing his proctologic entreaty, it also caused so much collateral damage to bystander shoppers that "Hillary Duff with Love" has replaced Polonium-210 as my favorite disabling spray during our current campaign to retake the fur department at Saks for Jesus.

As all of you arm yourselves for CHRISTmas shopping this season, know that your comrade-in-arms, Mrs. Betty Bowers, is with you in the AMEX-accepting trenches.  Your Commander-in-Cashmere wishes all of you a joyous Baby Jesus Day and asks you to remain vigilant against secular uprisings, such as shockingly rude cards that wish so-called "nice" things without pandering to your particular brand of faith.  And a special word of warning to you lady shoppers out there: Watch out for Pastor's notoriously inaccurate missile-toe!

So Close To Jesus, I Still Haven't Forgiven Him For Stretching Out Last Christmas's Lovely Elie Tahari Paulo Sweater By Allowing The Entire Trinity To Try It On All At Once, Mrs. Betty Bowers America's Best Christian

Currently reading : Daughter of Fortune (Oprah's Book Club) By Isabel Allende Release date: 06 October, 1999

8:18 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

The Plus Sized Costume Dilemma
Current mood: content

Jen: So I'm talking to JimE the other day and he says, 'Better get your costume! Halloweenie's coming!'. So I say, 'I'm NOT going as a pumpkin!'. JimE practically falls off the couch laughing because he KNOWS even though he has the nerve to then ask, 'Who said anything about a pumpkin?' 'Fat people have two choices when it comes to Halloween; pumpkin or ghost.' (all this is being relayed to Paula over the phone).

Paula: (laughing) I'm going to be Queen of the Fat People and go as a Pumpkin-Ghost.

Jen: Hell, while you're at it, just go as Queen of the Fat People.

I can't even tell you how many times I've gone from costume shop to novelty store in search of the perfect fat girl costume for one or another of my chubby girlfriends (Yes, I'm fat but I don't bother with the costumes so much anymore). There's the usual available and they all make you look like you're trying to wear the original version and still appear sexy; French Maid, Fat Pirate, Fat Witch.......Sumo Wrestler. You get the picture.

Today I thought of a solution (of course to late to get the costume together for this year). Tracy Turnblad! You know, the chubby little girl who wins fame on the Corny Collins Show shaking her fat little ass for all she's worth? Not to mention introducing 1962 Baltimore to desegregation! Now there's my girl! Thank you John Waters for Hairspray!

Next year I'm throwing off the chains and going as a celebrated fat girl with a heart of gold......wait, can that be considered "dressing up"?

5:44 PM - 8 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

"I'm the Goddamned Church Lady!"
Current mood: chipper
Category: Friends

My friend JimE and I are actually splitting the cost of a booth at a church bizarre on Bardstown Rd in Louisville October the 28th (more details to follow). Before you attack my ability to spell words as they should be spelled, don't you think it's a bit odd the atheists are about to set up shop in the church basement? Well, my dear friend Paula does.

My favorite thing about my friend Paula is how much fun it is to be friends with her. For example; while discussing the rules and details of the church BIZARRE, I let on that I didn't know much about it at this point. Paula, who covers the church bulletins and other wildly interesting events for the Courier Journal AND who had been expressing her doubt I could be on my best behavior amongst the righteous, quite promptly quipped in response, "I should know these things! It's the fucking church bazaar and I'm the goddamned church lady!".

I love you Paula Burba and your goddamned church bulletins.

12:52 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

..and Jen came tumbling after.
Current mood: aggravated
Category: Friends

The grass in my yard is at least ten inches high in some places. My excuse used to be that I had to wait until my father brought me his lawn mower to finally cut the grass but now he's given me my very own mower...except, you see, now I'm scared to mow the lawn.

A few weeks ago I was chugging right along. I'd almost finished mowing the entire yard, no small feat considering I have a corner lot and am completely out of shape, when I tackled the hill in front. The hill isn't very tall but it's very steep, and I, having very little lawncare experience, probably hadn't chosen quite the right shoes for the job. I pushed the mower up the hill and as I climbed up after, I slipped and fell completely down the hill on my stomach.

I never let go of the mower and was soon back on my feet to finish the task at hand. As is the habit of most less than graceful creatures, I looked around to see if I'd escaped embarassment only to catch the eye of my neighbor who was standing in his yard just shaking his head back and forth in tribute to the hopeless (clutz, klutz?) before him. I gave my standard, "Hmph!"-I'm bringing "hmph" back-, shrugged my shoulders and went on dripping blood across the yard but damned determined to get it over with.

My neighbor's mother came by to ask a favor later that week and I promptly told her she hadn't raised her son right because every good boy knows that if a lady falls on her face in front of him, his immediate reaction should be to: 1.Rush to her aid. 2.Prop her up. and 3.Offer her another beer straight away. She just laughed and said she'd tell him as soon as she got home.

Hmph!

12:23 PM - 5 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

I Don't Believe This
Current mood: lonely
Category: Life

I can't believe what"s happened since I moved to Owensboro. Since September I've gained like a million pounds, I seem to be trying to reclaim my virginity since I've only had sex TWICE this year, and no less than two people have been murdered in my neighborhood alone (..and Julie kept insisting Louisville was dangerous)!

I'll admit never wanting to leave my house which has a great deal to do with weight gain and the unfamiliar absence of men in my life, but where would I go and what would I do in this town? I feel like my life is somehow on hold. I don't want to get comfortable here. I have very few friends here and I definatly don't want to get involved in a relationship with someone I will surely leave as soon as I'm able to move back home to Louisville. Yes, I said "relationship". Believe it or not, folks. Casual sex has lost it's charm. WHAT!?!?

On another note, as I sat in my living room three weeks ago today, I noticed a policeman releasing his firearm while running up my driveway. I'm not kidding. Stick with me here. In my best Gladys Cravitz impersonation, I glued my face to the break in the miniblinds ( I hate miniblinds.). Soon, another police cruiser showed up followed by an ambulance. Keep in mind, please, that all this is happening at my God Fearing Proud to be an American Support Our Troops Praise Jesus Must Mow the Grass Every Third Day neighbors house, so I just don't get it. I mean, what the hell could be the problem over there...as three detectives and an evidence collection unit pull in as well?
The EMTs led the man who lives in the house to the ambulance and he sat inside for a long while. I couldn't stand it at this point so I went outside and asked a uniform if my neighbors were okay and should I be concerned. He just asked if I'd seen anything. Uh...NO! They put the man in a cruiser and around midnight, I saw them bring Corrine (the wife) out in a body bag. I couldn't believe this was happening. I mean, even though she was a Jesus Crispy and all that, Corrine was cool. She brought me carrot cake when I brought her tomatoes and once when they were out of town and I watered her flowers for her, she came home with this gorgeous magenta shasta daisy for me since I wouldn't take money. Now she was dead, and it happened while I was just a few yards away.
Once again, I went to ask another uniform if I should be worried for my own personal safety since I live alone and my locks are for crap. He said, "You're fine." (Well, I know that, but am I safe?!).

The next morning I was sitting in my living room discussing the whole thing with my aunt who'd stopped by to check on me. I was telling her since this was the straightest couple ever,I was sure there'd been an accident, maybe she fell and hit her head or something and they were simply questioning Calvin (the husband) as a formality as with any unexpected death, when the news vans began pulling up outside.
The reporters headed straight for my door. My aunt went screaming into the bedroom (chicken! pick up some clothes and put them on hangers while you're in there!).
Reporter #1: Do you know what happened last night next door?
Me: No. Do you?
Reporter #2: Well, we know she was strangled.
Me: (a little dizzy. let's go of the door)
Reporter #1: Would you care to comment? Did you know them?
Me: Yes I knew them. They were nice and normal and whatever and I'm
       not commenting on anything. Get back, Diablo!
Reporter #2: We'll just bring a mic and the camera. What a great name for 
       a black cat.
Me: I'm still not commenting. Good luck.

So, that blew my theory out of the water, huh?
Two weeks later, a reporter from the newspaper came to my door and I talked with him for a bit. As a result, the girl who aims to keep a low profile these days ended up on the front page of the Messenger. Three weeks later, there've been no arrests. Hurray OPD!! These are the police officers who managed to pick up a seventeen year old girl at her high school because some of her acquaintances, well out of high school, had been charged with trafficking. Get it in gear, jackasses! I'm sick of locking my doors all day.

So, that's the story. I'm bored and scared and you people need to be comforting me!!!!

8:24 AM - 8 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

What Would Jerry Do?
Current mood: crazy
Category: Friends

    At the beginning of April, my friend Paula and I decided we were getting a little round around the edges and started keeping food diaries and exercising for a change. Last week was a bad week. I only wrote in the diary twice and was feeling pretty fluffy when JimE Henry called me up for his daily offering of sarcasm.

"Okay, Stanley. I'm livin' large today. I may just give up and never leave my house again."
"Helen, if I learned anything by watching Jerry (Springer) make sure you prop yourself up against an outside wall so they don't have to bring the crane inside."

The next day I was in full manic glory. This is usually about the time Paula calls and has to listen to me spouting a neverending stream of either nonsense and fear or my newest version of "how we will conquer the world". That day it was fear. Eventually Paula just breaks down and says, "I think at this point you should call JimE and ask 'What Would Jerry Do?'
Have I mentioned how much Paula loves me before?

For the most part, all is well. I've lost eight pounds so far. This could have something to do with the fact that it's finals week and I'm so nervous I'm physically ill, but I'll take it. I'll be home in Louisville this weekend and maybe Paula will show me some of her new Shakira-Cowgirl moves to chase away the blues. Then we can mosey on over to "The Gay Cowboy Bar" and find out once and for all What Would Jerry Henry Do?

Currently reading : The Fountainhead By Ayn Rand Release date: 01 September, 1996

9:26 AM - 2 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

The Fountainhead
Current mood: nostalgic

I should be nowhere near a keyboard. So many revelations. I've learned so many things about myself and my friends today. I talked to Paula, Suzanne, Rhonda and JimE. You figure out which tale goes with which.

The weather is strange, static and grey. My animals are behaving badly. Debbie Hairy can't decide whether to remain by my side or run as far from me as possible. Diablo won't leave me alone and has twice claimed my right breast as a pillow after having first bitten and then consoled said breast.

My best friend and somehow nemesis has given me The Fountainhead as a xxxmas present: hateful and incurable bitch. I'm consumed. I can think of nothing else and, having slept for four hours alone, have finally turned to alcohol to calm the mania which is ceaselessly driving me to god knows what end, AND SO should be nowhere near a keyboard.

I'm feeling at least a two parter here and may never fully recover. Today I found I may not have been to blame for the loss of a certain friend, I may very well have discounted an extremely close friend's feelings because of a personal illness and that I may or may not have known one of my best friends before I even knew him. None of this means anything to any of you who are not included in this list, but it means everything to those who are. I love you all and I am sorry, whether it was my doing or not. I am sorry these things have happened and I am not sorry. Here we are.

This book...this book has caused something. Something is happening. On the phone with Paula earlier, we discussed books that change you or possibly just make you think as though you've never before realized what goes on around you. Before I started this book, the boy who gave me my first real kiss, ever, died of a long illness caused by time spent in someone else's war. Since I've started this book, I've decided that anyone you happen to think of from your past who you still care about in any way should be made aware that you're thinking of them, that you hold fond memories of them, that you love them still in a way that lets them know they made an impact on your life. I've started this journey and of the TWO (heh) people I've contacted, I've had the most caring reception. Why did I lose touch with these people I cared so much for? Who cares? I'm letting them know now. They're bold, brilliant examples of important people in my life, and I love them. 

I apologize for the rant and promise I am on the very last beer in my house on a Sunday afternoon in Owensboro, KY, where there is no liquor sold on Sundays. Bloody Hell!!

Currently listening : The Lady Sings By Billie Holiday Release date: 13 November, 2001

2:50 PM - 7 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment