Pavlov's Broken Dog

I'm sitting in the waiting pod for an interview today that I knew would suck. Not that I would suck, just had an indication - a fart sniff, if you will - that nothing fun was to come of it other than a bath and damn good looking clothing and hair. When I call the waiting area a pod, that's what it is. It's not a room. People go into rooms to hang out there. A pod is a place of chilling before a transfer to an actual room.

Boredom hit me very swiftly. I hadn't brought a bag so had nothing to dig around in or fiddle with. I had simply fisted a crisp resume and my keys into the pod to await my transfer. I actually thought of snuggling my keys into my shoe as to not make it seem that I was completely prepared to flee at any moment. My lack of shoeing my keys was noted at he end of the transfer. "You didn't leave a purse or anything did you?"

As in, don't forget something and have a reason to come back. I get it.

I really don't know why I look so great on paper and a herpe when in person. I do have a mirror and it's sadly not much of a liar. In fact it takes glee in showing every last damned fuckedness on my body and glorfying it with a halo of light. So if I leave the house knowing I look good and the mirror confirmed it, I'm one step from the cover of Vogue, my mirrors are some unforgiving bitches and I am always happy to point at them and talk shit when I know I've made science a reality by cleaning up proper - "See! Who's ugly now? You got nothin' do ya??? Ha!"

Right, back to task. Bored. Nothing to fiddle with. A young man came in with the most amazing belt. It was gleaming with a blue plastic deliciousness that at the time, didn't occur to me made it appear that I was staring at his groin. In true DM fashion, I confirmed shit that hadn't yet hit my DUH radar.

"That's a great belt."
/fidget "It uh, yeah it kinda is huh?"
"Yes, very shiney."

All the while I'm still totally fucking gaze locked on the thing and not making the connection that I was to ANYONE else on the planet except me, flirting with him. But I wasn't. I was in honesty... flirting... with .... that... belt.

As I contunied to sit, I realized how extremely fucked up and broken I am. They had a box of kleenex and various magazines scattered. I was going mentally deformed to not get up and straiten things. That damn kleenex was not centered on it's perch and I wanted to nudge it one inch back in the worst way. This is what 6.5 years with Bosslady has done to me. I look at things and somewhere in my mind have a need to correct it because she will notice and make a scene out of not liking it. I am Pavlov's Dog. See a stimulous and the proper response is illicited. Yikes.

So shitty interview and I have a good sense that she thought I was weird, which I am but how that translates into a bad thing, no idea. I'm not criminal weird, I'm creative weird! Instead of doing what I'm reading in the news and killing myself and entire family because I have no job(insane!!!)... I came home and got my groove on to this:



When I first heard the opening line I thought - No, you didnt! Then my head began to wiggle and my hips went into pop action. It's actually a catchy little tune to prance to. Most don't share my taste of hip/hop type of shit but give it a listen for the pathetic and downtrodden who on return from failed interview - had a letter from unemployment giving me birthin' day wishes in the form of "oh, you like... hm, gotta pay taxes for taking government assistance." All in stride. Knowing it went like shit, guess what I did on the way out?

I fixed that god damned box of kleenex and smiled to my car.

-DM

Still Hustlin? Groundhog Day!

Good morning Monday chickens. I hope you all had a good weekend. I seem to live the same Monday over and over and mother fucking OVER again, and I don't even have Sunny and Cher to kick it off.... I have Elizibitch Hasslefuck to wake up to. No wonder I scowl out of bed muttering and looking constipated.

Today's goals include marching my impatient ass into the unemployment office who has not returned my calls for the last few weeks. Are they all laid off like the rest of the country??? If not laid off, I hope my case worker is one fired bitch for ignoring me, even though she is excersing consistency and can add that to her resume. I am aware she is likely busy but it's not a terrible thing to phone me and just say that she has no time for my tired ass struggle. I've made similar calls in the past. Not terribly difficult and likely might stave off someone getting pissy and .... say.... showing up in your waiting room at 8:15. I have snacks in a nifty lunchin box, a camera to hunt crazies, and an Ipod. I can wait ALL day. Test me. It useless to ignore me, I'm far too obnoxious, it's easier to just give me whatever I'm asking for and send me along. Win win.

When I get home from that, I am taking down the Christmas tree. Or at minimum talk to it about the plan.

Kylee's first birthday was this weekend, and I should have the photos and post up on her site in a day or so, I'll post a link when it's live.

For today I offer morning animal beatings!

Why does he do that pose the second the flash goes off? Am I being set up for self documenting a frightened and abused dog? Lying moper. Eat some cheetos and suddenly you are a BFF! He looks like an alien in photos when he's not claiming to appear the poster child for Lost Dogs of America. His eyes are not that color, the flash sets them that way, they are quite black and healthy. No glaucoma or such yet. Lol check that left eye.... proof of alien-isms!


Then a sorry BFF who knows he's using the camera as extortion for no damn reason. I can't really argue his motives, it is pretty damned boring around here.

More soon. And Prada.... you're next you sneaky betch! /shakes a fist

- DM

Monday Hustle

With luck, and a sprinkle of confidence, I should hear back about my second interview today. I have the rolling in my head non-stop. For all the work a day chumps, parents, and people just trying to get a bite into the world....... (VERY NSFW or kids, unless you are trying to expand their vocabulary for fun at parties)



I learned something this weekend that I never thought possible. It's small, and a nothing that is necessary in life, yet had always been a huge annoyance to me. Those Magic Eye 3-D fuckers that had laughed at me since their inception. "Oh just unfocus your eyes, like this!" Sure, that way you won't see my hand coming when I reach to slap you, was that 3-D?

I could never see the shit and it really bothered me! Something changed, or maybe I was drunk and just "thought" I saw it, but I SAW it. Bunches of em and ooooooo that's pretty damn neat! Free acid! Rather silly to get a kick out of a petty optical trick, but ya know..... sack off it made me happy to join the ranks of those who can unfocus their vision. I wonder what it looks like. Does the person go walleyed, do their pupils change? Gotta look (pun!) into that.

Weekend was good. It began rather grumpy then I happened to stop myself by looking at my dogs. They are never in bad moods. They have their moments of "stop it" which tend to be fleeting once whatever annoyed them stops, but by and large they are so commited to being happy and excited for the "next thing" without even knowing if it's an attractive offer. Simon just now spend five minutes spinning like a dradle, for no reason other than he felt happy that I was looking at him. Wanted me to admire his spins, and they were quite handsome, well delivered spins. I will try to tap into my dog mentality with any oncoming dissapointment, and just wait for that special "next thing!"

- DM

When's gonna be my time?

Optimism is not my middle, first, or last name..... it's barely in my mental dictionary of being able to define it. In the last couple of weeks, I've had a UTI - that led to the most stubborn yeast infection on the planet, and I gotta think some third world countries are capable of producing some fairly nasty shit, that's how strongly I feel about it. Then I found a lump on my arm, not very close to my boob - but how close to a boob isn't TOO fucking close right? I could have caught it's mischeif on my heel and accussed it of being a shifty military manuever to bastard it's way north. I have been in another funk (god, how gross, a literal funk). The last week has been avoidnig all bathing, frowning at a toothbrush, pretending I don't see most household chores in need, and overall just making promises to perk up when I know good and well it's a lie before I even think it. Pre-lying in your own head is a talent.

But.......

Aside from all that it is difficult to beat the happiness out of me for too very long. It's unfair to anyone looking at unhappy DM, to actually have to look at it. Today I turned off my crack, which was very hard for me as I have been out of my brain that my mega-puter has something like 18 viruses. I live on this machine, it's my biography in many ways, and my eyes well up just thinking of some bully picking on it. But for today, I turned it off and refused to hear her sobs so that I could address myself getting well. Spent time with the doglets, pryed myself out of my robe, managed to curl my hair a little, had some nutrients, and exercised. Kinda go me.

Only at 5pm did I fire my darling up and hit my emails and take a peek at the jobs that aren't there. There was a job and I applied, mostly for my log in case questioned. At 6:30 a gal called asking to take a look at me in the morning. I felt a bit like a mule who was going to be sized up by a farmer, stroking his chin, wondering if the price was worth the animal.

I've gotten excited too many times now, but damn if I'm not a stupid woman who still didn't gallop down the hallway screaming INTERVIEW!!!!!!! Fairly sure I already fucked it up a little because my phone was slipping and the cap on my pen wouldn't come off so into my mouth the pen went.... while I was still talking. I can't learn to shut up until something like that is done and end up garbling something unintelligible while I'm to interview for something requiring phones.

Whatever. Don't wish me luck. You all have been a curse with your luckish intentions. I'll have a hard enough time not wincing through it as my vagine, while healing, is still firing off those random shots of itch that make your eyes bulge while you force a smile and look extremely creepy for it to strangers. Mouth says yes, eyes, say WHAT??? Ladies, you know that particular experience.

So... that's that for now.

-DM

Jakes & Jeffs

For a back step for those who don't carry my life events in their heads..... let's revisit Arch-Nemesis Neighbor Jake. I personally do not hate Jake. I often wish Jake would shut the fuck up and stop getting everyone exicted, proclaiming burglars to the other neighboring dogs, but no, I don't hate the animal. I had seen Jake once before and thought he was a Min Pin. Not the case. I also only know Jake's name because it's bitched all time and his middle name ranges from "Stop it" to "Enough!" and "get in here now!" I'm sure he has a lot more.

Simon also HATES Jake. My Russian walks outside like he still has a fine set of balls and ready to enforce them. Simon wakes up, takes a shit and starts right in with Jake. Every..... god.... damned.... morning. Most of you should be thankful that you've never seen me fly out of bed before sunrise, in sloppy bedclothes, crashed hair and a face that insists blood is going to be shed for dragging me outside - barefoot through a fresh pile of puppy poop to tell dogs to shut up.

I don't even care if it's my dog, if it won't calm itself after ten minutes I will get up and yell at it. I BEG the owner to attempt to come to my door over it. It's all I can do to not call animal patrol, so my bitching is a favor. I'm aware Simon has his part in the feud... but I am so fucking sick of being torn from my warm bed to scream like a lunatic "I don't care who started it! Get your ass inside and be ashamed!" Which he usually is.

Ok here is where Jake gets fun. I hadnt seen Kylee for ... about ... an hour? So went to walk outside and make sure she didn't go on the lam and get me in trouble for losing the puppy. As I came down the hall, she was trotting inside with Jake in tow. Like a sleepover. Just totally chilling next to Kylee. I jumped really high, not because he scared me but because he was in my house! I'd have gotten a cute photo but Simon was already rolling down the hall in what I know would have been a poof of dust and growls until one was dead and the other has limped away. My money was on Simon, as he is is meaner than I've ever seen him be about any other dog. Sipod has almost no teeth, so he's lower on the betting ticket, but it's also his house and I can see him saying "You really are NOT sitting in my house with a bone..." and going Rambo on Jake. For his age and disadvantage, (plus he's my kid!) I think he could scrap the shit out of anything on his turf. Thus no photo, I caught the Russian running down the hall in a painful dive before a showdown, but Jake looks something about like this: (bit bigger)

I asked Jake why was was in my house and he practically looked at Kylee to answer for him. I shooed him off and back through the fence he went. Me, pissed, grabbed some shoes, a hammer and an artillary of profanity.

I hammered and bitched while Kylee was mad I took away her friend then she got in trouble too and was sent to fetch Mama a smoke. Jake has a sibling that is also very angry and .... let's go with vocal. Between the 3 of them, the already crashed up fence is taking a massive beating. As I hammered I slipped onto my ass in something like 5 piles of fresh dog shit. It was dangling from bare legs, my arms, back and bonus.... a smudge on my cheek. The only good thing I can say about smoking is I couldn't smell it, but intertwined with grass and dead plants, I was all but prepared for deployment bringing my own camoflauge.

Not a happy girl. They are hell bent at killing eachother and I have no gauge on Jake's siblings' size. Also no interest in having to talk to neighbors or call someone. So that's my fun morning/day.

The Jeff house just got rented again. Sigh. No sign of a dog yet but they seem to bicycle.

- DM

Talk to me.

Still getting to the others... but today is a fuck it day. I'm so riddled with self pity and depression I owe it to my self to be pathetic enough to dedicate a song to ME. Then I thought no .... since it's Fuck It Wednesday, I'm gonna do two of the bastards. I even went so far as to purchase pity food whilst at the store. I purchased Pity Jerky, and a Pity Butterfinger - which was broken just to add to my level of Fuck It, and swiftly morphed into Fuck You! It's not like me to be shitty, (crabby or facey, for certain) but not shitty. My song makes me hop, and everyone loves a hopper, unless ya know.... it's like an insect and in your hair. My interview was a no go, so, all I can really do is sing this song and be like myself, not sure why that hasn't been good enough so far. I'm confident my readers would be ashamed of me if I wasn't myself.

Here's to me:



And here's to me to just having my ears tickled and a song that I adore when drawing. Very sexy voice on that Damien Rice, offt, yes sir may I have another! Mister got me into him some bit ago, just so poetically lovely. Plus the video is excellent, told you I was taking a fuck it depression day. Watch the whole thing. Interesting artistry.



More from me soon, just not in the right DM mind today. Need to collect self.

- DM

Lucky, thankful

Revisting a missed dedication because the gift was tardy, but 100 percent sent me to floor and made me cry. Not because it was a death threat or anything ugly, but rather such a thoughtful gift that I'm grappling to find words for.

One of my kindreds mailed me a box of goods and I of course gave it many looks before even opening. Inside was a flock of giraffe (one of which Kylee has already consumed) the below hat and a neck piece that really got me teared up. I have Irish readers..... betcha want this doncha? It's even got itself a handle!

These gifts were not expected and... truly wow. The neck piece smacks of $$$$ and has a small writing about friendship. I can't read it but an inside tag says "a true friend reaches for your hand but touches your heart" No shit that I fucking bawled. But here is my "omg omg omg got somfin face!" Dont' mind witch finger. No hexes today. The sender is someone who says DAWG instead of DOG, and I love her for the accent. I find myself fumbling when people do kind things, so proper thank yous dont come without flinging myself foward for a cradle. I'm humbled, extremely.

To my Diamond.... this for you. I am remarkedly blessed with the best people on the earth. I'm a lucky girl. Ask any of my gals here.... I'd fling myself into a lap so fast that I would deserve a dollar. Btw..... Diamond is SMOKING hot (and no it's not a stage name... she's legit just happens to use that moniker). Not gonna share pics - none are nekked either, all mine, but wowsa!!! I admit to turned bright red and raising my brow so damn high I think I need collogen to fix the wrinkles. This girl makes for a commercial on dieting or costmetoligy, and she's old enough to be my mom. I'd love to hate her but mmmmmm can't. Too yummy, and extremely nice. Damn I make good friends! I cant say enough what the gift meant to me, I think you'll groove on my choice of song and it's lyrics. No reason not to listen twice or thrice Sbean, you'll get it. I love you and thank you, Mr. Morgan all but checked the box to make sure it wasn't from a suitor with how pretty that pendant is. You get me, and that gives me a heart smile. I've done something right, and you are priceless to me forever.


- DM

And I can't get a job?

Sigh..... Mr. Morgan, it's taking me crazy patience to not flick you on your head so hard you don't even remember your name! It's part of my (whatever not what I aspired for as a kid but I'm good at it) profession to take a proper note. THIS is how he takes a message from a job inquiry:

By the way, I don't smoke menthols. Right (snitch). So, I get this lovely ... post it? and he had told the lady that I was sick. PERFECT introduction to a doctor's office interview. I wasn't sick at all. Football was on, so take a guess why that particular reason was flopped out to make me look extra special. Christ almighty babe, we can't tell people I'm fucking ill before I'm even offered a job, and more so when I'm completely not sick. Bitchy, of course, but sick????? No! My god it's the first bite I've had in weeks and he is proving QUITE the helper. My eyes are still bulging like a cartoon character and I phoned immediately to proclaim my husband was an idiot and just didn't hand over the phone. In defense, for all he knew it was a sales call, but let me field those too, it's kinda what my resume says I do. Some of the writing on the "memo" is not in english, I'm not sure if I'm missing a crucial point. I haven't had a sick day in over two years, but he proclaims my death bed on a call to hire me up. And I still cleaned the house. I think it was to stop myself from going slappy in a flurry of waspy whaps that don't hurt, but are ran from all the same.

I made cookies today. Eh. They look nice and I managed not to mangle nor burn them. Have I eaten one? Mr. Morgan asked of me. Second time of the day I wondered if he was out of his damned mind and blankly looked at him with a half wrinkled brow of "you are sober right?" There is no stretch of the imagination that I'd be eating those. Feel free to ask me why. Also, they pissed me off. They came in a mason jar and the brown sugar was so hardened I almost threw it at a wall to break it free. I'm super at throwing shit. My hands cannot do things like mining for a cookie fluff anymore and it is painful, both mentally and physically. And it fucking embarrasses me. I once was an artist and I now drop things regularly, then blame them for jumping.

I stared at the jar for a while, knowing that my Mister really wanted a homebaked cookie, probably more so the smell of cookie in the house. I growled at it. I squinted at it. I microwaved it in hopes of it softening. I had ideas that it was itentionally fixed to upset my inability to use my hands and I got really mad. Squinted some more and circled it about 80 times before making such a noisy scene that Mr. Morgan came out and helped me without so much as a word. Not from fear of wrath lol, but because he sees my frustrations of being 30 and not able to do what I consider a simple fucking task. He's an awesome bean that one.

Otherwise shit is same 'ol and I'm my bouncy fun self. The moments of yuck pass quickly enough, I can't dwell on being pissy over shit I have no control over. But I wanna. Not in my nature, plus I have Halloween 2009 to start thinking on. /weeeeeee........... Don't miss my xmas vid below.

- DM

Thanks to Mr. Morgan for while being .... no word, just a shaking of the head, thanks for flagging a worker in Walmart to find more of the shirts I begged for since the one given on Christmas. A for Effort! I'm using my calm girl side as reward. No feeling bad for me, I'm not happy with the hand job (I SO said it) but I can still twirl a pencil like it's a baton, you' have to see it to understand. It takes more effort than it used to but.... /grin. I'm not happy, but I am alive so how can I bitch.