I have a pretty serious sephora.com addiction.  This is amusing cause… have you seen me?  I leave the house with wet hair every day and my only concern when it comes to clothes is that they be clean.   But damn if I can’t drop a days worth of work at Sephora in twenty minutes.

Ever since I had that pesky stroke thing in December it has been the family joke that I am older then my Grandma.  Eleven months later and you would think as I go through the recovery process this would become less and less true.  I’m able to work full time and I no longer take more pills then her, but there has been another development.  I am watching QVC, for pleasure.  It started with the make up shows.  And now it’s expanded.  Pretty soon I’ll be buying jewelry and ridiculously expensive body wash and I will officially have turned into my Grandma.

Swamp Ass died in his sleep last night.  He is preceded in death by the many other pets that have died in my care (All of natural causes except that suicidal fish.).  He is survived by Killer and Tux, his feline siblings who never once realized in the year he lived with us that they could EAT him.

Services will be held tomorrow wherein I will most likely get drunk by myself and cry over a rodent.  A rodent that I only adopted because I was cranked out on anxiety meds but who made the last year hella more enjoyable.

Forever and a moon ago I posted a video of my oldest nephew and some of the phrases we had taught him.  The crazier segment of the Internet has found it.  Boy do they have some things to say about racism, bad role models, and quite a few who think that my nephew must be an out of control hellion with a potty mouth now that he’s older.  And then there are the people who see it for what it is, hilarious.  I find myself wanting to respond back to the commenters with the reality that you can’t know from a few seconds of video.  One, Zachary is an exceptional kid with pretty fabulous manners, and is in fact doing nothing but obeying his elders in that clip.  Two, we aren’t racist, and don’t have hang ups about race so race never occurred to us when teaching him those phrases.  Three, those are so not the worst words he knows, and yet he knows that he’s not even allowed to call his cousin “stupid” because we have managed to teach him right and wrong.   And four, most importantly, holy shit it’s hilarious to make children do your evil bidding.  You don’t even want to SEE the hand gestures we’ve taught him!

This is one of the best physical manifestations of what I feel like most days.  And I’m okay with that.

(This was taken at Mikey’s going away party.  Since he was moving to Kazakhstan, home of Borat, we some how ended up forcing everyone to wear mustaches.  Good times.)

I’ve always been interested in politics, more then my peers.  But this year I have, admittedly, gone crazy overboard.  I’ve been listening to podcasts since the primaries.  Almost two years.  Two LONG mostly ANNOYING years.   I can’t tell you the number of times a particularly annoying statement has caused me to SCREECH out loud at my desk.  I’m the crazy girl with earbuds in yelling at her iPod.

It feels weird knowing that today it ends.  The anticipation of this is more then anything I have ever experienced in my life.  While I’m some what confident the outcome will be to my liking I’m also so very, very nervous.  Just a shot of the Virginia polls moments ago made my stomach lurch.

This is especially bad because I have ingested a large quantity of chocolate today in order to keep my nerves under control.  The night may end in puking.  Let’s hope it is of the celebratory variety, if there is such a thing.

Three incidents of dorkdom:

One, I have my own website.  Check.

Today I checked the CNN mobile site from my cell phone (Which I do 19 times a day, minimum.  Even while I watch CNN.) and they had switched over to the Electoral Count in preparation for tomorrow’s election.  I squealed with joy.

Sentence I actually uttered while in a discussion about Facebook “I’ve thought about joining only because there is a show on NPR that I love that has a page…”  About that time I trailed off leaving silence to settle in over the dinner table.  I am a nerd, and it’s become impossible for me to hide it.

The best part of my weekend was getting to talk to my friend Mikey, who joined the Peace Corps and shipped off to Kazakhstan over a year ago.  I miss him.  A bit more then I even expected to.  I’ve tried a few times to write about him, or what talking to him now is like and I can’t.  It’s too… something.  There’s no distance from it.  We have another year of him living on the other side of the world to get though.  And after that it’s all still unknown.

The physical distance was bridged a bit because he got himself a webcam.  This time I got to see his smirk when he called me a geek for blogging every day, see the light in his eyes while everyone joked like we used to, and see the seriousness I’m not used to when he talks about life there, and away from here.  Even better then seeing the boy I miss so much is to see how he’s changing.

It is DAY ONE of NaBloPoMo and I almost forgot.  It’s been so BUSY.  I had to wake up, read a book, take a nap, watch The Office, go on a walk with the neighbor.  Now I’ve forced myself to actually get out of my pajamas and go to a party.  God.  So busy.  Without me to hold down the couch I’m not sure what would happen.  The earth would spin off it’s axis.

So, thirty days, thirty posts.  We’re going to try this again.  I hope I have the stamina.  I’ve aged 58 years since last November.  I had to use a calculator to do that math.

This is not going to go well.

It really bothers me that this wordpress theme doesn’t have the date on all the posts.  I just had to get that out.  YOU BOTHER ME THEME! 

Also, aren’t you so glad that tomorrow is the end of NaBloPoMo and we don’t have to write every day any more.  Wheew, that was a lot of hard work I did there.  I posted what, three times?

 This website is TEH SUCK right now.

You did it again last night.  That thing that only you are capable of.  My favorite part of the way you love me.

We’ve been in a holding pattern for weeks, me fighting and you silently supporting.  Me trying not to scare you with the whole truth, and you giving me white lies about not being scared.  And then my worst nightmare materialized.  The thing I am most afraid of is even closer to coming true.

When I saw you last night you just hugged me.  You held me in the way that said everything I’d been needing to hear and no one has been able to provide.  I know you’re scared too, and that helps.  Blind optimism is lost on me and I’m tired of hearing it.  If I was capable of that I wouldn’t be fighting every day to stay who I am.   And then you told me the lie that everyone has to say:

“Everything is going to be OK.  Believe me.  Have I ever been wrong?”

Buried under your chin I take a moment to think, searching for anything that you’ve ever taught me that was wrong.  And I come up with nothing.  As I shake my head against your chest you begin to laugh.  I look up and all you can say is:

“You haven’t been keeping track then have you?”

It used to infuriate me, the way you can make me laugh when I least want to.  But we’re not bickering teenagers now, you’re not “ruining” our arguments by making me laugh.  Every time you do that it just reminds me that you are my best friend for a reason.  When all I think I’m capable of is being an anxiety ridden panicking lunatic you remind me that I’m capable of more.  That I’m still in here somewhere and that you haven’t given up on me.  You also are the first person who actually made me think that it could possibly be OK.  I’ll fight this fight until the end of time if that’s what it takes, because you deserve your best friend too.