I have a black and blue on my left leg, just below the knee. The blue kind. No idea how I got it. Dawg keeps saying, “does it hurt?!” and pressing on it. Doesn’t hurt, that’s why he keeps pressing on it. :)
Ok, now for the good stuff…
Bonnie:
Clyde:
Professor with Clyde <3 :
Gwennie with Dawg:
Blinky1!!!11@1`1!!!112!~~~~:
A few more photos here.
Actually, they’re just at home, but in summary:
Blinky’s team won 1st place for minis and 2nd place for youth. It was her first time doing a solo tumble involving a backwards position in competition and she fell, but I’m so proud of her for doing her stunt in front of all those people… And her air stunt — as in, she was up in it — was perfect. :) Go see Dawg for a photo of Blinky up in the air.
Dawg is pretty sick today so I’m not sure we’ll do a show tonight. We’ll see.
How was your weekend?
I uploaded photos to flickr of my Central Park South adventure Friday before work. I hope you enjoy them. Consider them my Sunday Garden Party, except it’s really more of a Sunday NYC Party.
I did a lot of sleeping Saturday. I got another cold from the underground and brought it home with me. I did wake up for a little while to do dishes and put the laundry together but then it was back to bed with Dawg who was there already after working overnight with KC and not feeling so hot because of the cold I gave him.
We woke up at 6:15pm and then got ready to go out. We headed to the Georgia Diner to have dinner with Dawg’s parents (I refer to them as the in-laws in other locations, so perhaps I should just call them that here). I ordered my meal and Dawg ordered exactly the same thing except he wanted one thing different. I don’t remember what… hmm. Anyway, it was a bacon cheese burger deluxe, which means it comes with all the burger fixings, fries, onion rings, and cole slaw. It was supposed to come with a pickle too but neither of us got a pickle. We also both got Cokes. Dawg got cheese and gravy on his fries (ahh! here’s our difference! anyway, that’s what is called Disco Fries at that diner) while I had mayonnaise on my burger. I had a chocolate mousse tart for dessert, while Dawg had his Black Forest Cake. I told the in-laws that the next time my parents are in town I really want to take them to the Georgia at night because that’s when you get the full menu and more exciting add-ons with your food (such as the salad wheel of cole slaw, pickled beets, and chickpea salad, as well as an assortment of pickles USUALLY, but I think they just forgot that tonight).
Today we’re off to Philly to watch Blinky get thrown up into the air, then we’re going to Geno’s. I think this time Cheez Whiz is in order…
I AM ON THE CABOT CHEESE BLOG. That is ME! On the blog of my favorite cheese EVER! Mom, Bro, LOOK! It’s ME! Break Boy! Knitting Girl! NAT! PiC! THAT’S MEEEEEEE! Hilarious, no?
My new camera has arrived. It’s heavier than I anticipated… kinda much of the point why I wanted a new one, but it’s RED and it takes 12x zooms with 12.1 megapixels of goodness! Who doesn’t want these things? (Yes you do.)
Just in time to watch Blinky fly… although I hear there’s no video allowed at the event, so I’m not sure if that includes photos… hmm.
So, I finally asked my questions last night.
Or, rather, I asked a vague question, received a painful answer, went into a quiet rage, and slammed a door, then made some ridiculously accusatory statements, and cried.
Not normal behavior from me in This New Life, but embarrassingly familiar Poppy Behavior from the past.
And then he asked me if the questions on my mind were, in fact, the questions on my mind.
The tip of my tongue for months, and he’s known all along.
I got my answers. One intriguing, one slightly devastating (although not unexpected), and the rest were answers that I had needed him to say although in Vegas I would have bet on those answers. There is no immediate Plan Change outcome from said conversation. The honesty, the willingness to answer anything I asked, the act of taking the time to talk to me even though it wasn’t the best time for the conversation (and I was honest that this was a big reason why I hadn’t asked, in addition to plain and simple Fear — of the answers, of how things would change, of how things would stay the same — had held me back) made me feel closer to him. Made me feel validated. Made me feel like what we have is real and true rather than a dream or a farce or a show for the internets (Poppy never said she wasn’t craaaaaazy). We made promises to bring things up with each other, more my promise than his since it’s my tendency to not ask what’s on my mind, and… Wow, it feels really good.
And today I feel happy, satisfied, free to say what is on my mind without fear that a most amazing relationship that I am so very lucky to be part of will dissolve before my very eyes if I ask “the wrong thing”.
And like I am making progress in my personal growth. Yay, me. :)
subway reading book:
Anything that’s buy one, get one half off at Borders, really. That’s how I shop. But other criteria: Paperback, lightweight, easy to put down if necessary, but engrossing enough to make you lose yourself in the story. A bit of history or factual information is good if you’re in the right mood. Make sure to have humor or lots of killing (but not too graphic, because train sway plus nausea is NOT a good combo). And make sure you don’t mind ripping the pages by accident so don’t bring your first edition Winnie-the-Pooh.
subway television show:
This is my guilty pleasure show that I found on iTunes flukily, so please don’t laugh at me. It’s called Mistresses. And it is fucking ADDICTIVE. It’s about four women who are best friends. One is married to a man who can’t have babies, but she is suddenly pregnant with her assistant’s baby. One was the mistress of a man dying of cancer who she helped die then took up his son as her lover until he found out the truth. One is the widow of a man who went missing on 9/11 but who she has found out had a mistress after receiving a lot of money for her husband’s 7-year loss, a son with said mistress, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE’S STILL ALIVE (as in, he faked his death then sent his mistress to nag his wife into giving her 1/3 of the money). One is the girl who shags all men worth her 5 minutes but she has recently tried out a lesbian encounter and fallen in love with the woman she helped plan a wedding to said woman’s female love of her life (and now the two are seeing each other on the side). This is episode 5, people, and all of this has happened. American TV has NOTHING on the Brits. It’s best viewed on my iPod touch while riding the F (for Fuck) train. Dawggy, now you know what I watch but won’t tell you about. 
subway human interaction:
Certainly NOT the elbow grope I got Monday night by the homeless man collecting change in his coffee cup. I have a lot of compassion for people in need. I have zero compassion for men who rub up against women in the subway under the guise of needing pocket change. I physically removed that man’s elbow from my boob. He looked at me. I did not look at him. He moved on and totally groped the next lady’s entire head with his chest. Disgusting.
Mom, cover your eyes. When I was eight years old I had a best friend named Blake. Our parents decided we were not so great influences on each other and kept us apart for a while. Probably a good thing, because Blake and her younger sister had taught me how to steal from the local grocery store and the one time I stole anything was on my very own without them, just to see if I could do it. I stole a package of markers. The mechanics and planning of it all make me laugh every time I think back to that day, and probably helped shape me into the person I am today. When I got the markers home I was pretty excited to use them, but the more that I used them the guiltier I felt about the method in which I had obtained said markers, so I eventually threw them all into my Strawberry Shortcake garbage can. And then my mom came into my room and yelled at me for throwing away perfectly good markers, so I pulled them out of the trash and went back to drawing with them. (Yep, that’s really one of the markers. The last one left. In my favorite color, green.)
A number of people did this meme, probably including myself although I have no memory so it’s New To Me!, but I finally stole it from my mom, hence the title and backstory to this post.
A – Age: 34
B – Bed size: Queen
C – Chore You Hate: I’m gonna go for cleaning the toilet, Bob.
D – Dad’s Name: I have two dads. Bio: John, Step: Marvin
E – Essential Start Your Day Item: More sleep
F – Favorite Actor: This changes any given moment. At this moment I will go with my old standby: Bill Murray.
G – Gold or Silver: Silver
H – Height: 5’4″
I – Instrument (s) you play: I sing to dance music and 80s music, so that’d be the vocal chords
J – Job Title: Geek
K – Kid(s): I think this question is up to interpretation. Is it how many you have or how many you want? Hmm. :)
L – Like: I have a fascination with perspective right now, so I’ll say I like perspective.
M – Mom’s Name: Leslie
N – Nickname: Poppy
O – Overnight Hospital Stay Other Than Birth: None
P – Pet Peeve: Lying. And cheating. And lying about cheating. More than a pet peeve, but it’s what irks me on a consistent basis.
Q – Quote that you like: On my 8th grade family crest I chose “what goes around comes around.” Man, I was already in for a life of telling people off.
R – Righty or Lefty: To the LEFT.
S – Siblings: 1 brother, 1 complication sister, 1 stepbrother, 3 stepsisters, a few other unrelated sisters
T – Time You Wake Up: On weekdays it’s between 5:45am and 7:00am, depending on how easy it is for me to guilt myself out of the bed.
U – Useful tool: My body. And, occasionally, my mind.
V – Vegetable that you dislike: Gak. Too long a list, let’s try for the ones I do like.
W – Ways you run late: I don’t enjoy knowing what time it is.
X – X-rays You’ve Had: Teeth, back, ankle
Y – Yummy Foods You Make:Everything I make is yummy. I am awesome in the kitchen, among other areas of my home.
Z – Zodiac: Leo. (rawr)
Also, I’d like you to see some pictures and a video from my weekend, ok?
Here‘s Coney Island/Nathan’s.
Here‘s New Jersey.
Here’s Ripley drinking my water:
Despite best efforts, intentions, wishes, or hopes I never took much to religion. If I sit in a church and listen to a sermon it is like sitting through a sometimes exciting and action packed, sometimes serene and touching, other times infuriating and ridiculously walkoutable feature length film. I live in parallel to religion and spirituality, but I cannot walk with it.
It’s hard for me to accept that one being, or even multiple deities, are in charge or responsible or powerful enough to create all that is around me. And I definitely am not built to accept that my decisions in life are not my own, that the plan I make for my life is part of The Plan, His Plan, Her Plan, Their Plan. It’s mine to take ownership of, mine to fail at or succeed at, mine to be accountable for one hundred percent. Mine to be proud of, no matter how many mistakes I made along the way.
But I know in my heart that angels walk among us. And they help enrich our lives by their very presence. And they teach us to be better versions of our own selves, help us to realize and develop our own hidden talents and attributes and idiosyncrasies. And when they have completed their journey they leave, moving on to their next journey. And it is our job to remember their time in our lives, to remember what gifts they gave us, to pass on that memory to others so that those angels, their lessons, and their very purpose, are never forgotten.
The PoppyDawg household is still sneezing, sniffling, stuffy in the head, and all that business. I am not psyched to go to work, but I’m going because Dawg inspires me to be responsible. :)
Gotta go sneeze my brains outta my head, bye.
I am sad to think I do not inspire even the closest around me.
If I do… I don’t know about it.
Ask yourself: How does someone close to you inspire you?
And then: Tell them.
(As in, with your mouth. To their face. Good luck!)
