I Have Cool Toys

Maybe I’m not so weird for buying a stuffed dog for three dollars at a thrift store. That baby earned me a lot of laughs at work, a lot of interest, and a lot of questions about what Batman and I do when we go “garage-saleing” and “antique & thrift store shopping”. I’m sure we should establish some sort of house rule in regards to collecting, but I’ve always thought about it along the same lines as Ariana Grande: I see it. I like it. I want. I got it. 😊

This stuffed dog is a Puppy Surprise circa 2016. True, it’s not the original circa late 80s/early 90s that I grew up with, but it’s stool cool. I bought it because I used to have one, and it wasn’t too scuffed up. Plus, there was a baby pup inside! (Rare, since these are usually tend to get lost or swallowed by the couch). That was the whole appeal of this particular toy. Puppies hid inside the Velcro pouch so girls could play mommy, and, for more animal-lovers like me, there were MORE PUPPIES TO LOVE. 😊 😊 😊

I also have New Kids on the Block Danny Barbie Doll.

Oh yeah.

I used to play with them (I had Joey) but other than the missing shoes, look how great in shape Danny is! Hat in-tact, sweater in-tact; even his famous rat tail made it! I know this seems odd, but some people collect buttons and stamps and jars filled with figurines so this isn’t that lame. And if it is to you—whatever. I have cool toys 😊

What about you? What do you like to buy and/or collect? Anything that might seem odd to others but you enjoy it? TELL ME. Please!

Let’s be weird together. 😊

Ugg. Adulting

Look who’s still being terrible:

WE ALL HAVE TO WAIT.

This woman literally infuriates me. I’ve never met her and I cannot STAND HER. And I’m a nice person! I like people. Most people. Even the weirdos (they are my tribe 😉) but this one person is the exception to my kind and gentle heart. Every time I’m on the phone with Batman and we’re laughing about something I said, she zooms past and edges her way in, and the devil on my left shoulder pokes me with his pitchfork and I breathe fire.

FUCKING WAIT LIKE THE REST OF US.

I’m only upset because she’s awful, and I can’t do anything about it. And she does it everyday, which is rubbing it in our faces. The whole thing makes me grouchy. I’m also grouchy because I’ve been falling apart a lot recently, so I’m probably mad that I have the reverse Benjamin button disease and have to age normally. I keep getting older and achier and everything is cracking. Elbows, knees, cankles. It’s like I’m walking around with my own terrible soundtrack. So, I broke down and went to the doctor.

Most of it was motivated while I was sick and someone told me I looked like I had an infection and I that I had to go to the doctor immediately and I had a panic attack and FREAKED OUT. But I was a new patient, so, I had to wait two weeks, and by that time the sickness was gone and I was fine. So, I asked about the collection of tiny bumps on my head and the weird digestive issues I’d been experiencing (aka nausea caused by anxiety.)

The bumps, much to my disappointment, were NOT my twin trying to make a second go at it thirty three years after the fact, but benign (something medical sounding) cysts, and I was instructed to just ignore them. I told Batman but he doesn’t believe me. We’re going to “keep a watch on their size” so I’ll keep you updated on nothing since they’re benign cysts. My digestive anxiety issue isn’t technically/medically diagnosed. And I highly doubt the blood test this week will say otherwise. But when I only get a little nauseous before and during work and never anytime else, I’m comfortable enough with drawing that conclusion. Stress from work causes nerves causes nausea causes sometimes getting sick in the morning. Life can suck like that sometimes—but what’re you going to do?

After another paycheck or two, I’ll be heading to the optometrist —which will make Batman *very happy—and then the dentist. Ugg. Adulting.

There are other (happier) things happening in the background, but I’ve used up enough of your time and my hands hurt from typing so aggressively.

I WILL have to say: my latest passion is Doom Patrol. Have you seen it? PLEASE go watch it! It’s about a group of misfits/anti-heroes who have to fight together to get their leader back. It’s the kind of show that you think about when your mind wanders and maybe right when you wake up. Sooooooo good. I’m going to leave this link right here for you to check it out. (Seriously, it’s awesome. Go watch it! Brendan Fraser is in it. Like, wtf has he been?)

Alright, off to flip through my twenty dollar flower magazine since I blew my spending budget on it. Got to give that baby a few turns to get my money’s worth 😊

Have a great week!

*Batman thinks girls with glasses are hot. If he’s correct, and I’m as blind as he thinks I am, my hotness level will QUADRUPLIFY. Which is hard since it’s pretty much off the charts already.

I Only Feel Half Ripped-Off

I spent twenty dollars on a bridal magazine about flowers.

I’m obviously insane.

Do I have money like that to spend? No. But I’d neglected to check the price, and I liked what I’d flipped through, and my debit card was already out, about to be swiped. Everything was in motion. So, I got it. I spent TWENTY DOLLARS on a magazine because I’m awkward and can’t change my mind mid-purchase, and because it had pretty pictures that I could use for my wedding binder. That’s it. I should justify that a little better, but I can’t. These are the decisions I make. I wanted to finish my art project and apparently, I have good taste. Twenty-dollars-good. Also dropped five dollars at Starbucks so I must’ve been on a roll.

We’re approaching mid-May and a lot of decisions are being made eighteen months out (by the way—this is going to be a wedding post. Have I not mentioned that? Now you know. Carry on 😊). We have the venue and DJ booked and are in heavy research/ correspondence with a potential caterer and florist. Woop! Four out of the big five are in the process of being checked. The photographer is the last piece of the puzzle and I’m saving that for late summer.

I have a pintrest board and if you’re even the slightest bit interested/stalkery, feel free to take a look/stalk to your heart’s content:

SEE MY OBSESSIONS

Whatcha think? I have some ideas. Batman has some too, and we think this event is going to be kick-ass. That’s the goal. Have a kick-ass wedding. Just as I imagined as a little girl 😊

Well, I’m going to flip through my TWENTY DOLLAR magazine and figure out which images will be used for the wedding binder. It’s not even that thick of a magazine. But there are a lot of really beautiful, really inspiring images, so at least I only feel half ripped-off.

Still though…TWENTY DOLLARS?!?!

What the hell Virgo tendencies? Why didn’t you pick up on this shit the second I reached for the thing? Details are OUR THING.

Trying to Skeleton-Key Us

In an effort to lose weight and look sexy at our wedding, Batman and I have taken up walking. We go pretty much every day, and the walk takes around twenty-five minutes. We’re not training for the Olympics or anything, so a speedy stroll around the neighborhood is good start. In fact, I look forward to our strolls because it’s time we get to talk about wedding stuff, work stuff and random stuff without being distracted by Appa or the phone or something needing attention in the house. Walks were our nice little time carved for ourselves.

Now we’ve got to dodge her. ☹

She’s a real person—a REAL NEIGHBOR—and she lured me in with a creepy curl of her pointer finger. Straight up evil-witch style. What does that mean? It means I barely made eye-contact while I was ACROSS THE STREET speed-walking with Batman when she planted herself in her driveway like an immovable Stephen King villain and stared me down until I noticed her. Then—and I repeat— she LURED ME IN with a creepy curl of her pointer finger. Could I have ignored her? Of course. But I’m not rude, and she saw me see her and I at least had to say hello.

So, we did.

Dragging Batman with me, we ended up in a conversation with this lady and her husband—who is either brain-washed or a victim—and about every few comments, she stopped to tell me how beautiful I was. Look, I’m uncomfortable when normal people say it in an everyday situation, but it straight up freaks me out when you tell me repeatedly while staring at me without blinking. And then, after the third or fourth mention, she asked us in for a meal. A MEAL. Like, we just met. And to be clear—what is the meal? Am I the meal? I don’t know. You could be a fucking cannibal.

After telling her that we had to get back to our walk, we managed to get off her driveway and onto the street. There was no glance-back. The second our shoes hit the pavement we were gone. We had too. We’d tried escaping a few times and even at the end there when SHE ASKED IF SHE COULD GO ON OUR WALK WITH US, I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to shake her. But we were free and we were going to keep it that way.

Yes, she’s an older lady and yes, I’m sure a lot of what I said might’ve sounded mean BUT SHE WAS SCARY. Know why she told me I was beautiful? Because she’s a body snatcher and wants to wear my skin. THAT’S WHY.

You’ll know when I stop blogging.

P.S. Batman agrees.  He put it – and I quote – “She’s trying to skeleton-key us.” I’ll keep you posted.

 

Wedding Stuff, Writing Stuff, and Life in General – IWSG

Not sure where to start:

I’m still in the murder desk at work, but not as much as the newest higher, which is *directly* across from the door. She actually faces it, which would give her a few second lead-time on realizing we were all about to get fucked. Unlike me, who has my back to the door and won’t see it coming. I mean, it’s called a murder desk for a reason. I’ve been assigned one of the first-wave casualties due to hire-date, but what can you do? I’ve held better real estate in other offices, but, the pay is good where I am and they bring in free donuts on Thursdays. Guess I can’t complain.

I WILL complain because I’m not eating any free donuts. ☹ Ever since Batman bent the knee and swore fealty, we’ve been trying to be better. Trying not to be so diabetes-in-the-making with our food and beverage choices. We are still so *so* bad at it, at saying no to crap and actually having will power, but we’re getting there. Progress is being made. (Maybe?) And we take a walk almost every day around our neighborhood to lose weight and tone up, but it comes with the price of gossiping neighbors and yapping ankle-biters. This is the sacrifice to look good at our wedding next year.

NEXT YEAR, PEOPLE.

Which is later this year plus some months. We’re getting hitched next November, so again, PLENTY of time between now and then. I’m just glad I haven’t gotten to that panicky-crazy mindset yet, and if I plan things correctly, I shouldn’t. This is the benefit of planning a wedding almost two years out. I can go at my own pace WHILE maintaining a fulltime job AND writing the last book in my series AND not not having a nervous breakdown. Skill level? Awesome 😊

OKAY: I missed last month’s IWSG (somehow?!?) and that’s weird because I usually don’t forget that one. But I am getting old so thankfully, it’s not my good looks going first. Anyway, onto this month’s optional question:

What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

Oh geez. Is it terrible that nothing immediately comes to mind?

*scratches chin for REALLY long minute*

I GUESS it would have to be the first story I ever wrote (Gag! I know) because it was like being handed the keys to this really cool club only the select few knew about. You were probably looking for a “I heard/saw someone say this thing that make this other thing happen.” I’m embarrassed I don’t have one of those, but language definitely surprised me with its power when I realized I could take it by the reigns and steer it in any direction I wanted.

So, there’s my answer 😊 And ha! I remembered to answer this month! Someone’s paying slightly more attention to her surroundings–

SQUIRREL!

Insecure Writer’s Support Group (IWSG) is a monthly blog hop for writers at all levels to share their fears and insecurities in a safe and encouraging place. Please drop by and say hi to Alex Cavanaugh who started this nifty concept in bringing us all together.

P.S. Someone bought two of my books yesterday, so that was pretty cool. 😊