The Ode to my Daddy-O


Good morning, lovelies!

Funny story:

Monday night I got a call from my dad around 6ish in the PM. And, because I was elbows deep in Skyrim, I didn’t see the call until after 9PM, which is usually when my folks bed down.

So, I figured I’d just call him tomorrow.

I get to work yesterday and there’s a voicemail from my dad on my work line.

Pretty nonspecific — just call him back.

My brain starts clicking — what the hell is wrong this time???

I called back immediately and it went to voicemail. I figured he’s at work.

Around 4:30PM I called my dad back and he answered, having gotten off early.

“So, where’s the fire?” I asked.

“Well, hell, I was just about drunk and wanted someone to talk to.”

Thanks dad.


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The Things I Learn about Myself Every Day


Good morning, fine folks!

So, I have some interesting good news.

I think I’ve figure out what’s going on with my guts, and it’s not what I thought it was.

So, remember how I went and saw the Vampires on Friday?

My doctors office got my lab results back yesterday and immediately called me to tell me to change my levothyroxine dosage. Usually, I wait until my follow up appointment to discuss labs with my doctor, but the office very urgently called me as soon as they got results in.

For those who don’t have broken thyroids, this is what levothyroxine is:

Levothyroxine is a thyroid medicine that replaces a hormone normally produced by your thyroid gland to regulate the body’s energy and metabolism. Levothyroxine is given when the thyroid does not produce enough of this hormone on its own.

Levothyroxine treats hypothyroidism (low thyroid hormone). It is also used to treat or prevent goiter (enlarged thyroid gland), which can be caused by hormone imbalances, radiation treatment, surgery, or cancer.

I was instructed to skip my dose today, and take half a dose the rest of the week, until I speak with my doctor on Friday.

My theory is that my 40lb weight loss messed with how my body was processing the medication therefore putting me into HYPERthyroidism. Hence, the urgency in which my doctors office called me.

Symptoms include gut weirdness indicative of what I was experiencing — food transiting your gut too fast. And when food transits your guts too fast, it can really jack up your system.

I’m still holding off on keto until Friday.

But it kind of makes no difference, because when S.O. and I went grocery shopping this weekend, I still came out with keto foods — aka, no carbs.

We did have carbs this weekend — got some pizza (yassssss!), had burgers at Besty’s… got really drunk at Besty’s, and had hung over Whataburger with fries and a shake.

But I didn’t have carbs yesterday, and unintentionally today.

I made sausage and cabbage last night — simple poor food, but so delicious.

I found decent sized London broils for buy one get one at Winn Dixie and picked up two. I crock potted the first one, and the second one, I think I’m going to pan sear and roast.

But anyways….

I don’t want to think too much about food right now because someone was eating something in my office this morning that smelled like hot vomit and four day old moldy oatmeal simultaneously.


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The Drip, Drip, Drip


Good afternoon, lovelies!

I had a damn good weekend.

I napped, had pizza, had burgers, Game of Thrones, and quality Besty time.

Holy crap. Game of Thrones. Did NOT see that coming.

The only bad parts — being hung over on Sunday… because wine, beer, whisky, vodka…


Also my AC is dripping. Profusely.

I’m extremely hesitant to call it flooding, because it’s not.

It’s just an accumulation of water on the floor.

Very much.

But the drip has made it off the laminate and onto the carpet and I have towels keeping it at bay.

S.O. wanted me to call the emergency maintenance line, but when the guidelines mentioned flooding, it was talking about a broken pipe. Also pertaining to AC, it said only if it was BROKE and NOT WORKING in temperatures over 90. Which it was over 90, but the damn thing was still going.

So I put in a high priority maintenance request.

And I also called this morning and left a message requesting that if the need me there to call me at work and I can swing by.

So far, nada.

But it doesn’t surprise me. When the water valves for my washer were rusted shut, I’d called the main line, left a message and within like an hour a dude showed up to fix it. I never got a call back.

S.O. was having what I can only describe as an anxious meltdown over it. Just weird tetchiness.

When things like that happen, he gets awfully paranoid. On the way over to Besty’s we stopped to get gas for his truck and he like rolled up the windows and locked me in…

When it was almost 100 outside.

People die in hot cars.

When I got on to him, his response “It’s the only way I can make it secure.”


What the fuck do you think is going to happen while I’m sitting in the truck and you walk in for a whole minute to pay the man.

WITH a cop two pumps over.

When things like this happen, his paranoia overcomes rational thoughts.

But he was being annoyingly paranoid over my drippy AC unit.

“Do you wanna tell Besty and Motorhead about the drip?” he asked an hour before we left.

I was busy making bacon wrapped jalapeno poppers.

I raised my eyebrow, “why?”.


“Well… we could have to stay home.”

Hold up. My AC is dripping and you want to stay home.

Hokay! Physics! There is only so much my AC can condense. It’s a slow, but steady drip (FYI it was dripping along a bar, so we couldn’t just like… stick a pot under it). It’s not like there’s a broken pipe or an active fire or the ceiling caved in, or the roof leaking.

Just throw down some towels.

Also, ever little sound that came from that direction, he had to go investigate…

Like, the pan popped in the oven, run and investigate. Cat knocked something over. Go investigate. Thunder, go investigate.

I mean, I appreciate the vigilance, but that’s a lot of worry over nothing.

Also, one of the glorious things about being a renter — if appliances (provided by the apartment) break, I don’t have to pay to fix it.

One place I lived, the AC broke three times in a week and they had to give us a new AC.

Guess who didn’t have to pay for it?


I dunno about S.O’s paranoia, it was just weird.



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The Death of Chester Bennington



Well, this is a sad one.

Linkin Park was the soundtrack of my high school years. Their music got me through some really rough patches.


Hybrid Theory was the first CD I ever purchased with my own money. I wore the disk out playing it so many times.

When Meteora came out, I loved it too.

Minutes to Midnight got me through my homeless adventure.

So yeah, this hurts a bit.


I can only hope Chester is in a much better place and no longer in pain.


That’s the only thing we can do.


Thoughts and prayers to his family.


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The Trip to See the Vampires

Blood test, blood samples on a laboratory form

Good morning, lovelies!

I’m getting a late start because I had to wait an hour at my doctor’s office to get my blood drawn. Everyone in Tallahassee and their brother decided to get blood work done on Friday morning.

Essentially, the blood work is for my six month thyroid follow up. They order a full metabolic panel, TSH, T3, and T4 checks. Also they check my vitamin D, because evidently I’m deficient in the D department.


That came out wrong.

… There’s a penis joke somewhere in there.

This weekend’s going to be fun.

Since I’m off keto until I can talk with my doctor next Friday, S.O. and I are getting pizza tonight.

Not just any pizza.


Midtown Pies.

Best damn pizza in Tallahassee.


Seriously. If for some reason you are driving on I10 and pass through, stop and get some. It’s well worth it.

There was this one time where S.O. and I were watching Deadpool, and it was that first scene with the pizza dude and the olive and pineapple pizza.

We had to pause it, call in an order to Midtown Pies, go get it, and resume.

The toppings: pineapple, olive, and ham.


So much yum.

I’ve never been this damned excited about pizza.

Usually pizza and I don’t have the best relationship, but I’ve never had any gut problems from Midtown Pies.

Not once.

We might go back to Wakulla Springs tomorrow. We had such an awesome time last time and it was well worth the $6 entry fee.

However, this time, I will remember my beach blanket.

Also one of my new bathing suits came in. I only ended up ordering two:

The cream colored one came in first. S.O. said it’s going to show too much cleavage…

My response:

“Is that actually something you’re going to complain about.”


“That’s what I thought.”


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The Guilty Pleasures


Good afternoon, lovelies!

I recently re-found a song I had on my iPod that my couch ate five years ago.

Funny story — I lost my glasses in my couch and had to cut open the bottom, and that’s when I found my iPod.

Which got me into my weird guilty pleasure songs — you know, the songs you skip over in the car when you are riding with your friends. The songs or artists you listen to only on your ear buds.

Ya’ll know what I’m talking about. These are my favorite 20 guilty pleasure songs or artists.

Here we go!

  1. I have soft spot for Korn. Like whoa. Their album, Path of Totality, is probably one of my favorites, even though it was universally panned. My cousin once called it music for people on drugs.
  2. In This Moment — kind of a scream-o band that attracts a certain following. Pretty cringe worthy, but I adore Maria Brink’s voice.
  3. Rammstein — I learned more German from Rammstein than I did from two years of German classes in university.
  4. Katy Perry — the only two songs of hers I actually like are E.T. and Dark Horse. I know, it’s ridiculous. I generally avoid songs where autotune is heavily used.
  5. Styx — Renegade. ‘Nough said.
  6. Maximum the Hormone — Japanese scream-o with a chick drummer. However, my Japanese roommate totally loved that I was into the band, which made me feel better.
  7. I adore Amy Lee, even though some of her older stuff is very High School emo. Hey, she even said so herself.
  8. Babymetal. Yes. I love Babymetal. But only one song — Megitsune.
  9. Straight Line Stitch — another scream-o band with an awesome black chick lead singer.
  10. So. Much. Rob. Zombie.
  11. Hootie and the Blowfish.
  12. 90’s rock — Wallflowers, Jewel, Eagle Eye Cherry, Spin Doctors.
  13. 90’s pop — En Vogue, TLC, Mariah — so much Mariah
  14. Down with the Sickness
  15. Linkin Park — both old and new stuff.
  16. Tricky. British rapper.
  17. 80’s rock — Aerosmith, Guns N’ Roses, White Snake, etc…
  18. Pink’s older stuff.
  19. The Queen of the Damned soundtrack
  20. Fall Out Boy — mostly from the album with “Thnks fr Th Mmrs” on it.

So, I have laid my shame bare.

And I dare you to do it.

Let me know you’re cringiest guilty pleasure songs/artists.

Update — dude. I just found out Chester Bennington from Linkin Park committed suicide today. Wow. They’re music got me through some of the darker parts of my life. Hybrid Theory was one of the first CD’s I owned and I still listen to to this day. Seriously, the whole thing is on my now recovered iPod. I’m seriously trying not to cry at my desk right now.

Usually celebrity deaths don’t impact me like this — but first Chris Cornell and now this.

I just cant.


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The Identity Crisis


Good morning, fine folks!

Coming to love myself was kind of hard — I’ve done some pretty shitty things I’m not proud of.

But I’ve always known who I am. I’ve never felt like I should be someone else or that I need to identify with some lofty something to be person.

Although in high school, I had an ongoing thought exercise on trading lives with the prettiest and richest, most popular girl in school — but I think everyone does that.

I’ve noticed, especially in my own generation, that a lot of people need to have this thing, this concept or idea… construct… they NEED to identify with to feel whole as a person.

I’ve never really experienced this. I’ve always known who I am — awkward, nerdy, pudgy, with horrible skin, a great sense of humor, curly hair, big brown eyes, INTP person.

I may not be having an identity crisis, but definitely an existential one.

I mean, I have two cats and I’m a little crazy, but I don’t identify as a crazy cat lady.

I have an anxiety disorder because my brain hates me, but I don’t identify as mentally ill.

Maybe it’s society’s need to label people to understand them?

I’ve never felt the need to “belong” to a specific group or faction to feel like a person.

Having never experienced this, I have a hard time empathizing with people whose locus of identity are just descriptors or adjectives, not them as a person.

For example — my freshman year of college, I was living with a friend who had this need to identify with a construct to feel like a person. Her identity was so focused on her external appearance and what other people thought of her, that she, herself, seemed lost.

She once asked me why I was her friend if I didn’t like her tattoo ideas or the novel she was writing.

First, I love tattoos… on other people. I have a thing about needles and images being permanently etched into my body.

Second, her novel read like bad Harry Potter meets Kill Bill plus Anne Rice fanfiction.

Sorry. It did.

But she was puzzled as to why I didn’t like the things she liked, but I still counted her as a friend. She was the type of person who identified as a goth, LGBTQ+, otaku, etc… every cliche you can think of.

But she was decent person and we had fun times…

We eventually parted company, but not because of her identity crisis — more like fucking someone in my bed.

That’s a deal killer.

But at the end of the day, I have to live with myself and what I think of myself. People come and go and their thoughts and opinions of you are like dust and fleeting shadows.

They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.

But back to identity crisis and politics…

I just want to shake someone and tell them they are so much more than what they identify with. You are more than what you watch on TV, more than your occupation, you are more than who you have sex with, you are more than your disease, and you are more than you’re skin color, the place you are from, and you are more than who you associate with.

Instead of forcing interests based off of this construct, why not just be a good person?

Why do you have to be this thing, this idea, to be a person.

I mean, I have an autoimmune disease, but I don’t let it own me.

I had a shitty, shitty childhood, but it doesn’t define me.

Maybe I’m missing something?


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The Keto Diaries — Whoa, There.


Well hello again.

So, I’ve decided to take a break from keto. Not because I don’t believe in it or anything, but mostly because my guts are messed up.

I Googled my symptoms and came up with:

  • Gallbladder issues
  • Inflammatory Bowel Disease
  • Cancer — but in Google’s defense, every health website says cancer.

I’m leaning toward gallbladder issues — I’ve had the pains before, but I thought they were horrible cases of acid indigestion and I’ve been avoiding foods that trigger it.

Looking at you, Moe’s.


But I was pretty sure it was an isolated thing.

However, my guts have been messed up for 10 days now… and on and off for the past few years. Usually spells come and go… but this time, it’s seeming to want to stay.

I’m going to my doctor next week for my six month thyroid follow up. If this hasn’t resolved itself by then, I will definitely mention it to her.

But until then, I’m going to take a small break from keto.

Once I get the go-ahead from my doctor, I will resume.

I definitely hit some of the risk factors for having gall bladder problems (my mom got hers out last year):

You’re obese. This is one of the biggest risk factors. Obesity can raise your cholesterol level and also make it harder for the gallbladder to empty completely.

You take birth control pills, hormone replacement therapy for menopause symptoms, or are pregnant. The extra estrogen is the problem. It can increase cholesterol and make it harder for the gallbladder to empty.

You lost weight too quickly. Your liver makes extra cholesterol, which may lead to gallstones.

I would go into the symptoms I’m having, but even that feels a bit WAY TMI to discuss here.

Suffice it to say, it’s bad. And worrisome.


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The Awesome News I Was Totally Talking About Yesterday


Good morning, fine folks.

I commented to some folks yesterday that I have some good news.

Well, kind of a string of good news — and apologies in advance, I like to keep things dealing with who I work for and what I do kind of vague… mostly for stalker reasons, and also trolls and doxxing.

But I digress.

First bit of good news — S.O. got a nibble on a job from a government job in town. They asked for a writing sample — explain this one program in less than a page. It’s a program he already uses at his current job. I looked over his writing sample and it looks really, really good.

So keep your fingers crossed!

We’ve already started talking about his exodus and moving in. Pretty much he’s going to have to live out of suitcases until we can get a bigger place. I kind of have everything snug and cozy in my little one bedroom/one bath.

Second bit of good news — my position is being changed from “temp” to full time, which means I get paid holidays, paid annual leave, and paid sick leave.

No more coming in on weekends and coming in early/staying late to make up time.

Also, there are other benefits — better retirement plan, free university classes, etc…

My boss is going to put in for the change at the beginning of the next fiscal year — after July 28. Don’t know how long it’s going to take. But words cannot express how happy I am just for simple paid holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years have killed me the past two years. I’ve had to work, some days, 36 hours in three days….

Also, when the change was proposed, they were talking about cutting our pay. Come to find out, our pay has not been cut and we got a nickel raise.

I know it’s not much, but I was fully expecting a pay cut — the pay we got was supposed to “compensate” or “even out” for the annual leave/holiday pay/sick leave we didn’t get.

So yeah, very happy about that.

Also, my crazy next door neighbor moved out!

Last bit of good news!

One of my fuckhead coworkers (Lazy) is moving on to greener pastures.

I wish the best for her and I hope she does well on her next new adventure. But I’m so glad that I don’t have to continually clean up her mistakes and deal with all that bullshit.

My good news!


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The “I Can’t” days…

Good afternoon, fine folks!

Well, I had an exciting weekend.

I went to see Besty sing at Open Mic Night.

Her and her buddy are wanting to start this two person band thing, but based on conversation they might be inclined to bring more people in.

But not me. I haven’t played guitar in 15 years and I sing like dying cats.

Or so I think.

While out with Besty and Motorhead, I got the worst migraine I’ve had in a while.

Like on the way home (Motorhead drove) I had to cover my eyes with my hands because light hurt.

They didn’t want me to drive home, so I couch crashed and tossed and turned the whole night. I was awakened at 8am with a nice cup of coffee from the Besty.

We did watch GoT, which was AH-mazing.

Although the butternut squash soup and grilled bratwurst she made turned out to be not the most appropriate thing when it came to Sam’s scene.


Yesterday, I took a mental health day.

I played hookie.

Well, I legit am still having stomach problems and spent a good bit of the day in the bathroom… and playing Skyrim… and watching movies.

And I’m back at work, and I really just want to disappear.

Just to melt into the walls.

I’m having this weird, tense anxiety.

And I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just this tightness in my back and chest, tingle in my fingers, and prickling in the back of my mind that something is wrong.

In my head, I’m searching for the reason why I’m having a typical anxiety induced fight/flight response and I’m coming up empty.

If there is an actual reason, a year in therapy taught me to pinpoint the reason and rationalize my way out of it — to fix it, minimize it, or just throw up my hands and say I can’t help it and there’s no use in worrying about it.

But I cannot pinpoint a reason.

Purely physiological?

Something underlying I can’t seem to shake.

When you are at the point where you’re anxious and you’re not sure why, that’s when you need to seek help. If there is a legit reason, that’s one thing. But if there is nothing to be anxious about and you can’t pinpoint a reason, it might be your brain chemistry dicking you over.


I need a sanity week.

But I don’t get paid vacation… because reasons.

Since we got new phones at work, we have to log in like a call center (FYI we are not) to get incoming calls from our toll-free number.

And even after I asked boss lady to make sure everyone was logged in so everyone could take calls, I’m still the only one logged in and I’m the only one taking calls. I’ve taken so many calls I’ve had trouble getting my actual work done.

So, I decided to be sneaky/practical and ask our IT dude if there was any reason I’m the only one taking calls.

And he made the others (Lazy and Incompetent, if you are following my work saga) log in and take calls as well. Of course ignorance was pled — even after multiple emails had been sent out with detailed instructions on how to use the phone, how to log in, and reminders to log in.

Or when our toll free number wasn’t working but Lazy and Incompetent were both giving it out in voicemail messages requesting call backs…. even though the number didn’t work…. at all.


Also, I found out that because Lazy didn’t do her cases properly and I’m the next person to work them and now I have to do more work to make up for her not doing her job — which I told my boss about and sent her a list of the ones that I’m going to have to give extra attention to because they weren’t done correctly in the first place.


Did the same with Incompetent, too.

Add in some extra laziness and incompetence…

When I was talking about banging my head on the desk last week… that was it. 

These two weeks have been a special kind of hell.

I’m kind of sick of being one of the few people here that takes pride in my work by making sure it is done correctly.

And this isn’t to say I don’t fuck up. I do. I am only human.

But I also own my mistakes. If someone tells me I did something wrong, I will fix it. I might explain my rationale, and ask for clarification if my rationale is wrong, but I fix the shit I get wrong because I know if I don’t someone else will have to.

At some point, after being told ad nauseum that you are doing something wrong, and you continue to do it, you are either too inadequate to do your job (either because of motivation or wholly unqualified) or you are doing it intentionally to piss people off.


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The Head Currently Banging on My Desk


“I will not write about my fuckhead coworkers.”

“I will not write about my fuckhead coworkers.”

“I will not write about my fuckhead coworkers.”

“I will not write about my fuckhead coworkers.”


How about some music.

I just discovered this song, and I’m madly in love with it.

Like on repeat on my phone, playing continuously in my car, and stuck in my head all day.

I feel like I’m kind of rediscovering Florence + the Machine — I’ve downloaded a couple of their albums, but tend to only listen to the songs I know/like and don’t listen to the rest.

Tends to happen a lot.

Then I discover this amazing song in my music collection that I’ve skipped over a million times.

Like, I downloaded Hozier’s album… the one with Take Me To Church, because I love that song and I’d skip the rest.

Holy moly.

There are some really awesome songs on that album:

Like, I’m in love…


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The Neglectful Blogger


Sorry, guys. I’ve been neglectful.

Mostly it’s because of frustrating work and a mild case of food poisoning/stomach bug.

Work is the same frustrating incompetent/lazy shit heads. This time I’m getting more work because they can’t do their jobs right.

Gotta suck it up, Toots.

I wonder if I can put that on my resume — fixed other folks work because they were lazy/incompetent.

Both Monday and Tuesday, I just came home and kind of crashed. I was in bed by 7:30 both nights.


Wait… is today Wednesday or Thursday?

Thursday. Okay.

So yeah, I crashed early every night this week.

Which means I’ve had Indian food runs for four days now.

I just wish my guts would act right for once.



Besty is doing this music thing and had open mic night. I politely noped on the occasion, stating my horrible diarrhea as the cause.

Not lying.

Also her and Motorhead are still fighting and evidently I’m their relationship guru or something.

Another thing thrust upon me I didn’t ask for.

So, I told both of them — ya’ll need to talk your shit out. Not this bitter back biting nit picking passive aggressive bullshit. Don’t come from a place of anger or bitterness. Come from a place of love. If you can’t work your shit out, move on.

Not rocket science.


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The Creative Boredom Projects

Since I’m not one to continually document my life with selfies and snaps, I rarely photograph things I’m working on — still haven’t taken a “hey I lost 40lbs” selfie.

But, since ya’ll are awesome, I snapped a few pics of things I’m working on or are complete.

First is my reupholstered bar stool that used to be a table, and before that, a bar stool with a pleather cushion my cats would often enjoy sinking their claws into. Hense, the need to be reupholstered.

The aforementioned plywood top is being repainted with a feather mural — I haven’t finished the feather detail, which will be in black, but I’m pretty excited so far.

And this pic made me realize my house is a total mess!

Last is a project I finished long ago — my mom gave me this fan, and being the avid smokers they are, it was a lovely shade of pukey tobacco tar.

So, I got a can of spray paint and some metallic teal and went to town. It now hangs over my fireplace mantle.

And that’s that. I do have two other canvasses I’m working on, but nothing worth calling home about.

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The Day at the Springs and Painting Projects


Good morning, fine folks!

S.O. and I spent Saturday at Wakulla Springs and it was absolutely glorious.

For those who haven’t been to a freshwater spring, the water is a refreshing 69 degrees Fahrenheit. They had a roped off swimming area, boat tours, and a nine mile hiking trail.

We just did the swimming.


Hiking was definitely on the list, but I left my sneakers at my office… and left my key card in my car.

But the water was so lovely, crystal clear and refreshingly cool.

When you first go in, it is pretty shocking. Best just to get about thigh high, then dunk yourself.

We also packed some delicious keto snacks: pork rinds, cucumber salad, salami and pepperoni, olives, and some almonds.


And not only did I forget my sneakers, but I also forgot my beach blanket.


But we arrived pretty early, thankfully. By about noon it got pretty crowded.

Also, we saw a manatee.


It came right up to the dock and just was chilling, eating some of the underwater veg growing on the pilings.

The refreshingly cool water also wore us out pretty quickly. In addition to swimming around, trying to maintain temp balance burns calories.

So, when we got home, we just took a nap.

Even though I plastered on sun block, I still got a little toasty.

Sunday was another lazy day.

I’m working on two painting projects.

The first one was the 3×3 plywood board I was using as a table — I removed the seat of one of my bar stools and used the board as a table top.

Since I went ahead and turned said bar stool back into a bar stool, I didn’t want to discard the plywood top.

So I’m painting a mural with feathers on the top and I’m going to hang it as wall art.

I also found some decent sized canvas on sale at Michaels and I spray painted it medium gray. I’m going to oil pastel some pretty feathers on the canvas and hang it with the board I’m currently painting feathers on.

I’ll post pictures when I’m done.


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The God Who Loves Me


Good morning, fine folks!

Story time!

So about two years ago, I took some really, really bad advice, that turned out to be illegal, from a friend, who incidentally isn’t a friend anymore…

So, I was making my move from Georgia to Florida official. I got my licence changed over ($56 ouch). Part of that was the Florida DMV cut the corner off of my Georgia drivers license to invalidate it.

Next, to get my car insurance changed over to Florida insurance — My premiums went up a total of $60, because people in Florida can’t drive and I have to pay for it.

Then, was to get my registration changed over.

I had my shiny new car title from where I just paid off my car (very proud). Now, in Georgia to transfer ownership, one just needs to sign off on the title. And bam! Go to the DMV and make it official.

Not in Florida.

Nothing is simple in Florida.

My Nana cosigned my car, so her name was on the title too. Either she had to be there in person or there needed to be a bill of sale and transfer documents, even though her signature on the title, I thought, would suffice.

Also, I wasn’t sure how to exactly fill out my car title, so I left it blank and figured the DMV would tell me how to do it so I didn’t completely fuck it up and void my title.

So, I’m at the DMV — this lady, who was extremely surly and rude, proceeds to tell me I can’t fill out my car title in front of her and then draws large circles on my car title, indicating where I need to fill out information, then writes on the side “bring in bill of sale.”

Bitch just voided my car title.

And then told me it was going to be, not the $100ish I expected from an incorrect website, but like $400.

Sigh… so then I had to request a new car title from Georgia. But in the mean time, I had out of state expired tags.

I called the bad advice friend sobbing, who instructed me to do this:

I called my boss (because I had to do this on my lunch break) and told her I had to drive to Georgia.

I made the trip, went to the DMV in the town where I used to live — an hour and a half away — and told them I lost my Georgia drivers license, and the replacement was free. Then go over to the tag office and get a new Georgia sticker for my tag.

And that’s what I did.

Months and months later, after said friend and I parted company, my nana gets a letter talking about how my Georgia registration is suspended because I don’t have insurance.

Fuck. Mother fucker. Son of a bitch.

I do have insurance! Florida insurance!


So, I get word back from the tag office in Georgia that I need a lien release to get my title.

I had to call my loan company who told me to call this other company, and $45 dollars later I have a lien release.


Then it’s another fee to get my title from Georgia.

Then $400 to get my tags — and I’m living on ramen right now….

So…. I’ve been driving around on suspended/expired out of state tags.

Which is illegal. And I don’t recommend it to anyone.

Yesterday, I had a Florida Highway Patrol (FHP — state highway police) pull up behind me as I was turning left. I’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding cops, using the always useful right hand turn, urge to randomly pull into a parking lot, etc… Thinking I was going to be pulled over, my guts clenched in anxiety and terror as I gripped the wheel thinking any time now, I’m going to get the blue light special. He’s going to see my shame of my wrong colored sticker on my car and give me a lecture, a $1000000000000 ticket, and throw me in jail where I’m going to live Orange is the New Black for my goddamn expired tags.

The green arrow pops up. And I turn, and he turns. I swiftly pull a right into a shopping center parking lot, fully expecting him to follow and see the impending blue lights.

But he just goes on.

I laugh, tears pouring out of my eyes, in my car shouting “There is a God and God loves me.”

This morning, on the way to work, encountered eight different types of law enforcement — three city police, three sheriff (one a motorcycle), and two FHP. Now, I work in a nicer area of town and usually don’t see that many police in the area.

But damn. Said God who loves me, is definitely telling me to get my shit together.

Next month, I’m going to have three paychecks. And I’m going to get my registration right.


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