Category Archives: Random

Oct28

Gearing up for Halloween!

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I’m sitting here with a smile on my face. It’s such a nice feeling. This is why I love Halloween!

iDJ and I spent about an hour this eve when he got home from work sorting through clothes for his costume. It got a little stressful, as nothing was working right. His stonewash jeans were too tight, and he needed something 80’s on his legs. What to do? Ah, trust in the resources of the SpiderQueen.

I found a pair of leggings in fabulous colors, and made him try them on. Oh, perfect! His legs look fantastic. He put on the boots he wanted to wear, and I quickly sorted out a shirt and the accessories to make a perfect 80’s costume. It says a lot about me that I actually still own clothes from 1985. Says even more that I can recreate the ‘look’ we wanted so easily. So he’s sorted, except for his hair and makeup tomorrow.

Except… for his junk.

He’s wearing tight leggings. Men are not meant to wear leggings. Especially not with just a t-shirt to cover their ‘bits.’ I told him that he was in charge of figuring out what undies to wear – he’s a boxers man – how? I don’t know. Nor do I want to see the experiments.

But! He posts this on FB:

Note: he always carries a man bag for his gear – another gender stereotype shattering difference I forgot yesterday! He has a ‘murse’; I hate handbags and refuse to carry one.

iDJ: My good lady had me play dress up earlier so my costume is sorted. Now if only I can figure out where to stash my junk…
Me: Oh my god. I can not believe you said that! Right, I’m going to have to buy you something that doesn’t show off your junk so well!
iDJ: Camera, phone, wallet with no money, hip flask, bible – that junk!
Me: Oh. Right.

Of course the facebook feed has gotten worse from there. We all knew he wasn’t talking about his iPhone! Braggart. I have no idea how to keep my pictures of tomorrow from being nearly pornographic.

To get our collective brains back into happy-land, here’s Dogzilla dressed as Spider-Man:

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I spent nearly two hours working with my mask today. It doesn’t fit well, and I have to wear a wig, too. The mask has to be glued into place, and I’ll need to blend makeup to cover the bare skin. I’m not a fan of masks, but this one is in two parts with the chin separate so my mouth will work as loudly as normal. The functional mouth was very important because I refuse to drink Guinness out of a straw. So, there was trimming, and fitting, and more trimming… and I found out that my liquid latex has gone hard and mostly unusable, so the edges of the mask will be really obvious, dammit. Also, I have clown white but no black, and I need to blend in grey makeup to match the mask. Bummer. A shopping trip that includes me is scheduled for tomorrow, but I can’t get proper professional quality makeup locally.

I’ve not even sorted my clothing yet. Uuuurgh. But really, I love Halloween!

A final note, if you’ll permit. I’m a terrible self-promoter, I couldn’t sell heaters to Eskimos. However, in keeping with the Halloween theme, I’d like to give you directions to the MP3 podcast of iDJ’s Halloween radio show. It is 2 hours, recorded live last night, and really, really, good. You’ll get my references to Glen Campbell yesterday better, too. Go here: http://bit.ly/vJS8fD and, if you want the playlist first or after listening, go here: http://bit.ly/ts8gXY

You’ll hear himself talking every half hour or so, getting progressively drunker and happier as he goes. That’s normal for his show 🙂

Oct27

Halloween costumes and gender stereotypes, with random BS

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Hi, and welcome back to another instalment of the continuing saga, “….

Nope, I got nothing. My blogging friend Michael could come up with something, I’m sure.

I’m a bit at loose ends tonight, as my BFF Socks has family over and isn’t available for our usual phone call. I know she’s having a great time, though, and not even I can begrudge her that. We’ve planned a conversation tomorrow, but it must needs be cut short due to my needing to assemble Halloween costumes.

My costume is mostly make up – well, actually, glue-on, good quality prostheses I bought in the US last year- and those terrifying New Rock boots I mention in my ‘about’ page. But iDJ – well. I am gonna have soooo much fun with him. I refuse to give it away, but we came up with a costume that utilises his beautiful, arse-length blonde hair. It also involves make up, but more like lipstick and eyeshadow rather than greys and blacks.

Despite us being married for over 6 years, he still gets called gay because of the hair. The hair I love. The hair that suits him. When they see him in costume (called ‘fancy dress’ here) on Saturday, they will say it even more. The thing is: only a man secure in his gender preference is comfortable enough to dress so oddly (and no, he’s not going to be in drag). So, you small town, insecure, gender-preference-repressed name callers – eat it and weep. He’ll be awesome, and he gets to come home with me.

I will post pictures. I know I’ll be unrecognisable, and he will likely be, too. I say that, because I’m still debating on keeping the blog anonymous. I think I have four out of 11 followers who don’t know me in ‘real life.’ However, I’ve not said the horrible things I thought I might say when I first started the blog. I was in such a dark place, I figured it would be non-stop bitching about everything. Instead, it turns out this thing helps me see the humor in my life, and makes me appreciate the little things more.

I also think I appreciate the bigger small things more, like my KIBIS nights. We did have one this week, not at my house but at MrsMMC’s apartment. We voted to include another member, but we didn’t say who was going to invite her… oops. Is that my job? I’m not going to detail the evening, but some things we talked about are things I want to ramble on about here, and I’ll give a KIBIS-mention when I get a round tuit.

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Yes, I know that is an old, bad joke. It makes me think of my dad, though. He had one of these, and he loves an old, bad joke as much as I do. Hell, my whole family loves stupid jokes. Would you like two that came from my great-grandmother, on my mother’s side? No? Tough. Please note, these jokes have to be over 150 years old, passed down over the generations.

What are the three dirty parts of the stove? Lifter leg and poker.

What are the three naughty vegetables in the garden? Lettuce turnip and pea.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Right, what next? If I hadn’t segued into bad jokes and KIBIS, I might have said some things about the seeming gender confusion in my household. That is completely the wrong term, of course. Stereotype shattering is a better term.

An example from right now! He is live on the air, playing his Internet radio show. Tonight is Halloween themed. He was playing a song that is new to me, and I like it a lot (a rarity, I’m picky). Afterward, he (was) is playing Glen Campbell, Ghost on a Canvas. He told me that he’s snuffling back tears because Glen has Alzheimer’s, and his memory only comes back for his songs, not his family or friends. So, Glen is now a ghost himself. Aw. (iDJ also said the two songs before the one I like made him weepy.)

Me? I’m considering deleting the part of my post yesterday where I admitted to feeling anything.

Okay, back to fun examples of why we are so good, and so odd, together.

He loves to shop for clothes. He knows labels, what is hot, what is classic, what isn’t worth the trouble and why. He always has, and spent hundreds on a single jacket or pair of jeans back in the day of the Irish Punt.

I don’t know, nor do I care, about labels or what is in fashion or cool, except to avoid what is trendy. I buy based on three things:
Is it an acceptable price for what it is?
Is it ‘classic’? Meaning, it better not be a trend and I’ll look like a twat next year because I’m not doing this shopping shit again any time soon if I can help it.
Does it look good on me?
Sometimes there is a no. four: is it so totally awesomely tacky that I cannot live without it?

iDJ is a shoe freak. Sneakers, trainers, whatever you want to call them. His passion is to re-buy all the trainers he had as a kid; sadly thwarted due to me not having any income. The good part about this is that he shops well. TK Maxx, aka TJ Maxx, is the best for inexpensive cool shoes. Even better is that after he checks the selection in his size he looks at my size, and has gotten me some really cool rare kicks. Oh lordy, he’s rubbing off on me.

Enough about clothing, it’s boring.

Next is, of course, that his hair is loooooooong. He’s not a metalhead, and doesn’t want to be taken for one. Hipster is more his style. Yes, he even wears cardigans. But, he has no piercings or tattoos and doesn’t want any. I have 3 tats, want another, and my ears are punctured 4 times left, once right. All my tats are on my left, too, it’s a thing with me. No, I don’t know why.

Last one, then I’m done, honey, I promise.

He drives a MINI Cooper. I drive a Harley-Davidson Sportster.

Because this has gone on long enough and I have to end on a high note, don’t I? A thing i am very happy indeed about: He isn’t threatened, is indeed relieved, to let me do most of the mechanical repairs and assembly around the house. I love putting together flat-pack!

Oct26

Rainbow Toes, fake flowers and the Fabulous Cow Coat

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Off we go, I’m just going to start ‘typing’ and see where it goes. I can’t really think of it as typing as it is only two fingers touching a flat screen. I can touch-type, this feels like a backward step. Hmm. Perhaps if I turn the Pad sideways, I can use the rest of my fingers? Let’s experiment.

Okay, the reading area is smaller, but the ‘keyboard’ is bigger, of course. I have fingernails for the moment, so my beloved comma is hard to hit, and I keep touching return with my pinkie.

Actually, the fingernails remind me of a topic I’ve been wanting to bring up. See, I only have them because they didnt break below the quick like they usually do, causing massive pain and occasional blood. They are like wet tissue paper, usually. I have no idea why they are almost acting like the the useful tools they should be. You know; teeth picking, ear cleaning, finding the annoying little plastic tab end on a new pack of smokes. Not useful for: opening pop top cans, or just about anything else. Especially: looking ‘pretty.’

I tried fake nails a few times. When they broke free (causing massive pain and occasional blood) the entire top layer of my nail went too, and I was left with nails the consistency of a McDonalds hamburger bun. Never again.

I don’t paint my fingernails. Usually they are too short to bother, and my hands are too used to keep polish on for more than a few hours without ugly chips. I also am a perfectionist, and Lefty always looks shitty. Also, I cannot ‘do nothing’ long enough for polish to dry, so it has smears, dents, and fingerprints within minutes. Also? I really don’t give a fuck what they look like, as long as they aren’t really dirty or have snags that cut my gums or ear canals.

I do paint my toenails, but only in the warm months when I wear my seriously tacky fake-flower flip flops. My feet are fabulous and I like to share the symmetry that is mine. I paint them in what I privately think of as my gay pride* colors; big toe purple, next blue, next green, next yellow, pinkie red. Rainbow Toes! Paired with a giant blue, pink or purple fabric flower on my ‘flop, I get a lot of stares. The only way it would be better is if the flowers were hard plastic instead of floppy fake silk.

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*I’m not gay, but I also don’t give a shit if you want to assume I am just because I have Rainbow Toes. Maybe I can make someone think for a change. I doubt it. Urg, this pic makes my toes look stumpy. They aren’t.

I feel that I should explain why I love the tacky flowered flippers so much. It is because as a kid, I hated the ones my mother had. She had no taste in clothes or fashion and proudly called herself the ‘polyester queen.’ She loved bright colors and loud cheap clothes. I hated her lack of taste the most when I was a teen, but I have come to appreciate just how liberating and fun wearing something stupid is. Whenever I dressed for myself, rather than a wedding or for work, I always did dress a bit out of the mainstream (discounting the disastrous experiment with being preppy at 12) but always in a genre of sorts – heavy metal, punkish, sexy-strange. That girl would never, ever, have a pink flower on her foot. Now, they make me smile, they make me feel happy and goofy and fun in a way that tons of makeup and short skirts never could. It is also an homage to the butterfly that was my mother.

Oh, The Fabulous Cow Coat. I am famous in three countries for wearing my mother’s enormous black & white fake fur coat. She called it her cow coat, but lots of people call it a Cruella DeVille coat. It is massive and tacky, and I love it so very, very much.

I had a lot further to cover on the topic of fashion, appearance, and social norms. However, dinner is nearly ready and I got a lot of joy out of telling these few stories instead of a ‘serious’ post.

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Oct24

Stupid shit that makes me smile

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I was just looking through one of two clothing ‘junk drawers’ for Halloween costume accessories. I’m really excited about what I’m making iDJ go as this year, and I had to sort through the drawer full of scarves, bandannas, flowery hair clips, shawls, old undies I might fit into again, and weird and/or winter socks. I found some suitable gear for him, but I also found these:

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Aren’t they just the stupidest things you’ve ever seen? How can you be in a bad mood with ridiculous stuffed lions or alligators on your feet? How great is it that the lions have bellybuttons?They are warm, too. I’ll have to protect them from Lokii the fabric-eater, but I think they need to come out of the drawer and smile smarmily up at me this winter.

Aaa! I forgot an important part! My superduper hubby got me these; he does all the shopping. You gotta love a man that knows his wife is a goofball and proud of it. X

Oct11

A peek into iDJ’s mind

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Really, this happened.

It was a lovely day half hour outside. I’m in the fabulous Coleman camp chair and iDJ is directly behind me on the garden bench. I’m trying to read, but he’s doing a running commentary on everything. I’m mostly ignoring him. The dog (AKA the queen) is also outside, turning her lovely white feet green on the fresh cut grass. After listening to iDJ talk to no one for a while, I opened a word processing app and started transcribing what he said.

iDJ: “Aw, look at the queen.”

Pause.

iDJ: “Aw, poor Spot. Someone is crying. I know, kitty, we’re all outside!”

Pause.

iDJ: “I love my kitty. He loves me.”

Pause.

iDJ: “Yes, yes. I definitely need an occasional table out here.”

Me: “No, hon. You occasionally need a table out here.”

Then we went inside, because it started to rain again.

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Oct10

I saved 5 lives today, and maybe another

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It’s a red-letter day here in Culchieland! I left the house! I know, what on earth could possibly have happened to make me leave? On foot? In the rain? Hell, it’s Ireland, it’s nearly always raining…

Well, I had to make the trek down to the post office to get my dole. That’s welfare, for my Yank friends. On the way, I:

Met BD who is a manager at the post office, and my sometime Harley-Davidson biking buddy. He was making deliveries, which is not his normal job. We had a short chat and blamed the shortage of staff on the presidential election flyers tying up all the postal workers. He handed me my post – a presidential election flyer.

So, mail in pocket, I continue my walk to the post office… is that ironic? It had rained a LOT overnight so there were little earthworms drying up and dying in the church driveway. I picked up three and tossed them into the grass.

Continuing on my way, I saw a small tortoise-shell coloured kitten running around under the parked cars in front of the grocery store that we don’t patronise. I don’t know why not, we just don’t. I tried to coax her to me, but she was scared and probably feral. I wouldn’t let a young fella in a hurry leave until she moved from under his car to another.

Up to the PO, chat with the clerk – turns out two people are on holiday and one other had a funeral for his mother in law. Aren’t small towns fun? Can you imagine getting to have a chat at the post office instead of a surly government worker? Wheee! And my dole went up €20, why? no clue. I’ll take it, 70 is better than 50 any day. It still is a drop in the debt bucket.

Back out, down to the Paper Shop where my mother in law works. She’s usually only there in the afternoon, but she’s in, and so are the other three ladies that work there. They aren’t all working; mam and B are, and the other two are chatting and bringing coffee and sammiches to the others. Aw. Mam has a cold and can barely talk. They all ask me about my back, and my job hunt. A fella delivering magazines hears me talking about my back, and I get advice and the name of a physio who fixed him ‘in one go.’ A physio is someone who isn’t a doctor, or a chiropractor, but does stuff to people who are hurt, like a sports/physical therapist. This one apparently is the physio for a GAA team in B… okay, I don’t recall the name of the town, but it started with a B and I’d never heard of it. Apparently if I go to B… and ask anyone on the street for so-and-so, they will know him and give me directions. Yes, that is the way things work over here!

Back out for the walk home. Dammit, kitten is still under the cars along the main street. Very dangerous for the wee thing. So I try, and try, to get it to come to me. She talks to me, but runs. I gave up, walked away…then turned back and into the grocery. I went to the deli counter and asked if they had a tiny bit of ham or turkey or chicken, as I was trying to catch a cat. I would have paid for it, but she handed me a bit of ham off the slicer. Thanks, deli lady!

Back outside, the kitten finally gets sick of my attentions and runs off down the alley, past the back road behind the houses & shops on the main street, and into someone’s overgrown garden. I tore up the ham and left it in the grass. At least she was safe from cars, now.

On the way home, I find and save two more worms. I feel like an Annelida hero! Yes, I Googled that. I’m a geek, but not that much of a geek!

In case you were wondering, here’s why worms surface when it rains.

Oct8

I’m officially a rugby fanatic

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Morning! It’s half time, so here I am. Half time of what could get me out of bed at 6 am? The Rugby World Cup, of course! Ireland v Wales. Right now Wales is winning, but the scores are low so plenty of time to recover.

It’s on because the Cup is in New Zealand.

Oo, it’s back on, bye!

Oct6

I’m pooped

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Ugh, I’m not feeling spiffy this morning. Guts are unhappy about whatever it is that makes them unhappy all the damn time. Feel a bit like barfing, too. Back is giving me trouble, of course.

Think we did too much yesterday. Really annoying that doing normal things one day screws me up for the next two days.

I actually left the house yesterday! In the car! I went into buildings! I did some shopping! You can see how exhausting that is, just from all of the exclamation marks! !!! !! !

I needed to pick up my back x-rays from the hospital, so I can take them to the chiropractor tomorrow. Being as all that the National Health Service (NHS) has done for my back in the last 1.5 years is take one set of x-rays, I figure I should use them as best I can. So, because everything is done different here than I would ever expect, I had to get a letter from my GP and take it to the hospital’s x-ray department, and ask for my films. Which I do, and got them after a short wait. I also got questioned as to what I needed them for. “Oh, um, I have a consultation…no, I forget who it’s with… I’ll bring them back next month…” all the while blushing furiously because I am a totally shitty liar and even lying by omission shows all over my face. I didn’t want to say that I was going to a chiropractor outside the NHS for fear they wouldn’t let me have my x-rays of my back even with a letter from my GP. Because I’m so thrilled to be paying for treatment myself instead of being cared for by the NHS. Grrr.

Oh, I am totally going to take pics of the pics of my innards. I love that stuff! Don’t worry, I’ll share. 🙂

The hospital is under a ‘no visitors’ rule at the moment due to a vomiting bug going around. I should have taken a pic of the giant “No visitors” board that was propped outside the main entrance. Sort of fucking scary that the hospital already had a board to put out front. I very carefully touched nothing but the file they gave me. But… didn’t I start this post saying that I feel a bit pukey? Joy.

Okay, so then we stopped in at Horkan’s to get Dogzilla something for her birthday. We wandered around there a while. They have small pets, pet supplies, plants, and Weber grills. So me and iDJ were both happy. We also picked up a couple little Xmas presents to send to the US. Always good to find things that are small and lightweight. Dear god, did I just admit to buying Xmas gifts before Halloween?

Back home and got some schtuff for dinner. And we stopped into a pub, because it was 4:30, and he said that since he had been forced to take the week off as holiday time (instead of the dole; this way he actually gets paid), he wanted to have an early pint as if he was on holidays. So we did.

Aaaand that was enough to wear me out. Aaaand I need to RUN to the potty now!

Oct5

It’s a dog’s life

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It’s Neko’s second birthday today! I’m sure she cares. But we’re pretty good soppy doggie parents, so she got a carrot that honks and two rawhide bones.

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Since she can’t have any treats that have grain in them due to her colitis, she gets a carrot a day. That’s it. I just know it’s gonna confuse the shite out of her to have a carrot toy. She really loved it, but started to pull on the felt leaves at the top right away. That is not like her – she’s 2 and never has ever destroyed a toy. Or anything else. Either I’m a really good dog trainer or have been lucky as fuck with my last two gigantic dogs. I’m going to go with a combo of the two, I do my best not to pick a dog that chews out of boredom. It’s a fine line between too smart and too dumb: smarter dogs take you seriously when you go medieval on them over an infraction of the rules. Too smart and they just do it behind your back.

The rawhide… We don’t like to give them to her. My poor Shade couldn’t have them at all. She’s never had an issue, but I’ll keep a close eye on her. We found some just the right size to make her happy for more than a moment but not make her sick if she eats the whole damn thing in one go.

So there ya go, my first post all about Dogzilla. Happy birthday, dogeen! I believe that for her breed, she’s officially an adult now.

May let her have a spoonful of Guinness later 😀

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Oh noes! I just trawled through iDJ’s pics from Dec 2009 when we brought the queen home. I have to share the cuteness:

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Aaaaaw, look at the widdle puppy legs! She was so small. Compared to now. Look at the size of her tootsies!

Ok, ok. I’m done with the baby talk. Just so you know, only baby animals make me talk like this. And even then, usually only MY baby animals.

Oct4

Playing around with my new toy

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I’ve downloaded the WordPress app for iPad. I was finding some things not so easy to do, and others are impossible using only the iPad. Poop. One of the main reasons I went with WordPress is that they are very iPad friendly. As I think I have this thing permanently grafted onto my thigh now, I fully intend to blog just from said thigh. So, not all is sparkly just yet. I’m sure I’ll sort it out in time.

So here’s a picture, my first, as a test-tickle. What? Yeah, I did say that. This is a fiddlehead, pic taken by me out in the bog last spring. It happens to be Socks’ favourite picture of mine, too, which is the only reason I robbed it off my FB a few weeks ago. Because I had great intentions of drawing it again in Brushes. But it sucked, and I never finished. Gawd, I’m lazy.

Feic it, I didn’t want to sicken anyone by immediately posting cat pictures. So here’s a damn plant.

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