*sigh* I love Friday. The movie and the day… but today I am totally looking forward to NEXT Friday. The 4th of July Blitz. WOOT. Where my friend, ED (a girl, no I am not kidding) and I will probably drink too much and dance too loudly and drunkenly in my garage (wide open in front of the entire neighborhood) to 80’s music while we attempt to convince ourselves we are in junior high again.
My kid will roll their eyes, Mike will undoubtedly imbibe one too many keg beers and scorch his scalp under the firework sparks (AGAIN) and we will all eat too much, drink too much and be so damn merry that it will be the best 4th of July since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny fuckin’ Kaye.
My always and forever blog hero is Zube Girl. I love this woman, she’s amazing and brilliant. But, then she went and got knocked up, had a beautiful baby and totally started being more of a mom than a blogger. Can you believe that? Pfft. (totally kidding here!) I have forgiven her because she gave birth to the most beautiful little girl on the planet. Well, aside from my girls, of course, but I’m a mom and it’s in my contract to say that. Besides I totally know Kari will agree with me on this anyway and all of her kids are totally freakin’ cute too.
Anyway, so Zube went and wrote this post about her favorite songs. Her songs are matched to very poignant and sometimes painful times in her life and she mentioned she liked to hear what music speaks to other people. As you probably know, music is one of my greatest escapes, in fact, I’m blaring Queen in my ears right now as I write this.
As part of my “100 Things” series, I decided to list my top 10 favorite songs. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion I have probably done this before… but maybe not. And, if so - pfft, whatever.
This is actually pretty tough for me because I love a lot of different types of music. My heart belongs to Old Standards and Big Band, seriously. Sinatra, Dorsey, The Andrews Sisters, Bing… I could go on and on. I love every song Harry Connick Jr. has written, performed, and recorded whether it’s instrumental or includes his absolutely magical vocals. So to narrow it down to ten songs, that’s just really tough. In fact, to actually list a song as one of my favorites it has to be a song that I can listen to over and over, tug at my heart, bring back memories, or just make me really, really FEEL and be IN the moment, know what I mean?
So in no particular order (because that would make my head explode) here are my top 10 favorite songs:
1. I Was Born To Love You - Queen, I have always loved Queen. Ethan went through a Queen phase where all he listened to was Queen and he even learned to play, Love of My Life, on the piano. I can’t hear Queen without thinking of Ethan.
2. The Way You Look Tonight - Steve Tyrell, Frank Sinatra (who could pick a version!), this is the song that Mike and I had our first dance to. The entire wedding soundtrack was mainly set to the Father of the Bride soundtrack. I can’t hear this song without getting all warm, fuzzy, and squishy inside.
3. Simple Things - Amy Grant, this song has become my personal mantra, if that makes sense. Which is why the lyrics are listed on my MySpace.
I dream of simple things
I can believe in
Like the feeling this day brings
True love and the miracle of forgiving
I believe in simple things
4. Fly Me To The Moon - Frank Sinatra, Ol’ Blue Eyes never fails to get to me.
5. My Blue Heaven - Harry Connick Jr., I love Harry, but this song, his version, is just so up and happy. I never fail to grin when he sings, “Just Jillie and me and baby makes three, we’re happy in my blue heaven.”
6. Don’t Stop Me Now - Queen, my official Friday night song. I love this song, it puts me in a good place mentally every time I hear it.
7. Come Fly With Me - Frank Sinatra, the most romantic invitation ever.
8. On The Street Where You Live - Harry Connick Jr., this song is really special because, while I have always loved My Fair Lady, I love Harry’s version the best so I put it on my birthing CD for when I was in labor with Maggie. Later I would sing it to her in the shower, she was so tiny curled up on my chest letting the hot water hit her back, she would always fall asleep as I sang it to her.
9. Agnus Dei - Amy Grant, this one and her version of “O Come All Ye Faithful” just make me know that there is something greater and bigger than me out there. My soul moves with this music especially, as if it is truly connected to something sacred and wonderful. I grew up listening to Amy Grant, every Sunday my mom would put on a record while we got ready for church. Amy Grant was played pretty often and her music (Angels, El Shaddai, Sing Your Praise) always takes me back to a very special time before anything bad ever really happened.
10. Love Has A Hold On Me - Amy Grant, that’s it. That’s the ultimate, no matter how bad it gets, no matter what happens, it’s all the same in the end. I can’t really do this song justice without putting Amy’s lyrics here:
I have found a perfect mystery
Love has a hold on me
Long before my life had come to be
Love had a hold on me
Love has a hold on me
Where do I come from
Where does life mean
Is it not to know the one who made me
As I’m looking down the road ahead
Love has a hold on me
Someday when I breathe my dying breath
Love has a hold on me
Love has a hold on me
Where will I go
When this life is through
Back into the light that made me and you
Love has a hold on me
Something opened up my eyes to see
Love has a hold on me
Love has a hold on me
I don’t have answers to all the questions
Running inside of my mind
But I cant help but believe that
Understanding comes in time
Love has a hold on me
Something opened up my eyes to see
Love has a hold on me
Love has a hold on me
If I run, if I hide, I know inside
Your love has a hold on me
Tell me yes, tell me no, my heart will follow
Your love has a hold on me
If I run, if I hide
Your love has a hold on me
Your love has a hold on me
Your love has a hold on me
Hold on me
Boy, it’s been one hell of a week. I wanted to end on a happy upbeat note, but I just don’t think I can. I’m not good at being vulnerable. I’ve spent most of my life having to look out for someone else being vulnerable was not something I’ve had time for. I’ve always been the type of person to believe that good prevails in the end and when I’ve been given the opportunity, I’ve tried to speed that process along.
When Mike and I were on our honeymoon we received some very poor customer service at a chain store. By the end of the day I had the district manager on the phone, received an apology, the employees were written up, and we received a bunch of free stuff and a follow up letter of apology.
When an unscrupulous dental corporation attempted to fight me on the unemployment I was due - I fought them viciously and won. I got not only my unemployment but the judge at the hearing issued a very stern reprimand letter to the corporation and told me I probably had a good shot at a law suit. That’s not something that normally happens around here with the unemployment office. I followed this up with a labor complaint that ended in a decent settlement as well. I didn’t pursue the lawsuit even though Gloria Allred was willing to look into at one point (that isn’t name dropping or bragging, she was only interested because there was an element of sexual harassment). I probably should have but at that point I just wanted to walk away from the whole thing.
I put my job in jeopardy originally by alerting the dental investigator for southern California that children were being abused in the dental offices. I recall at the time, that Mike wasn’t too supportive of that because of it jeopardizing my job. But, no one else was willing to speak out for those children and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.
My point? Well, it’s not that I’m some big, bad person who wanders around kicking ass. Not at all. In fact, my point is more that I wasn’t the “give up” kind of person. I have always had a deep desire for fairness and justice, the lack thereof has always been something that enrages me deeply. I get that from my mom, undoubtedly.
So, ten years ago? I would have fought this chicken thing tooth and toenail. Although, what is there to fight? What would I be looking to have at this point? I’d like an apology and an admission of general fuck up from this Code Enforcement Officer and the rest of the moronic department, I suppose.
These days I just feel like life has kicked my ass. Like the big bully is standing there yelling at me to get up and all I can do is just drag myself off somewhere. I’m tired. Really, really tired. And, I don’t feel like I have the support that maybe I once had. I’m just not the Erin Brockovich type anymore.
So I sit here, in effect, screaming at the ocean. Wishing things were different… wondering why they aren’t, and frustrated because it seems the more I wiggle the more the noose tightens. I look over at Mike as if to say, “you’ve got my back, right?” only to find that he’s angry and annoyed with me for even being upset about any of this. And, I feel like a child who has been told to stop crying about the ice cream she dropped in the dirt.
I don’t know, I guess when the person who means the most to you and is supposed to be your life partner, sees no validity in the things that matter to you, that you feel emotional and passionate about (and let’s not just reduce this to chickens, it’s more than that) - it no longer feels so important, worse yet, you feel a little worse about yourself for “getting so worked up” over it.
I feel that for every feeling of discontent that I have I must first close all the exits, cross every t and dot every i just to prove that my feelings have worth and value. Sometimes it feels like a constant battle, which person’s cares are more important. Not that I feel that way, but after feeling like nearly every feeling you have is devalued, you just want to scream and say, BUT I FEEL THIS WAY, WHY DON’T YOU CARE?!?!?!
I can’t seem to make it clear that to me, agreeing with someone and caring about their feelings is not the same thing. I’m ok with someone not agreeing, but I’m not ok with being put down for having those feelings. And, just because you don’t agree doesn’t mean you can’t care. At least in my book.
Thanks to my MIL who spent some time researching instead of doing what WE did which was to believe someone from the city that they knew what they were talking about, the following was found yesterday:
6.08.010 Keeping prohibited—Exception.
It is unlawful for any person to keep or have under their care, custody or control, either as owner or otherwise, any chickens, ducks, geese, or poultry or fowl of any kind whatsoever, within the city, unless same are kept securely enclosed in a yard or pen at all times. (Prior code § 9.02.010)
We had two, tiny, bantam chickens. They were not capable of leaping the fences (which are over 6 feet tall) they were secure within our backyard and spent 80% of their time UNDER the butterfly bush. The following is the email I sent off last night to the gentleman who showed up and fed us a load of bullshit regarding our pets.
We researched the City Code here -
http://www.qualitycodepublishing.com/codes/bakersfield/
6.08.010 Keeping prohibited—Exception.
It is unlawful for any person to keep or have under their care, custody or control, either as owner or otherwise, any chickens, ducks, geese, or poultry or fowl of any kind whatsoever, within the city, unless same are kept securely enclosed in a yard or pen at all times. (Prior code § 9.02.010)
——————-
Our bantam chickens were SECURE within our yard. You saw for yourself that they were kept securely within our yard. According to this code here - we were well within our rights and now we have had to deal with our 4 year old absolutely heartbroken at the loss of her beloved pets.
Can you please explain to us why you led us to believe that we were doing something that was against code? Is this a change in the code you were unaware of?
Mike and I would appreciate a response and explanation regarding this. Furthermore, I would be interested in knowing who made this complaint as it does appear to lack legitimacy in light of this code.
Thank you for your help in this matter,
Mike and Amy Doran
Maggie has been absolutely heartbroken over Chickie being gone. We had to deal with her SOBBING most of the day when they were taken away. The anger I am feeling right now is nearly quadrupled to what I felt on Monday.
I cannot begin to tell you how STUPID I feel. After all the years I have spent not taking anyone’s word for something, always researching it myself, I stupidly saw a badge and took the jerk’s word for it. You have no idea how ignorant I feel right now. Why I didn’t research this immediately before giving up Hank and Chickie, I just don’t know. I just couldn’t believe that someone who is supposed to enforce the municipal code either didn’t know it or lied his ass off.
Either way, this is my fault, ultimately, because I didn’t investigate my own rights. That will be the last time I EVER make a mistake like this, I can tell you that.
Either to avenge my daughter’s broken heart or the injury to my pride, I’m telling you, I want BLOOD now.
Parenting teenagers is, at times, like a suburban version of the “Cold War.” It requires dedication, stealth and the ability to constantly remind yourself that age and treachery triumph over youth and skill any day. Therefore, it is imperative to strike first, silently, and with great stealth.
As I write this, it’s still early in the evening on Tuesday night and in about 5 or 6 hours my children will be home from their tropical vacation. But, in their minds, they will still be on “Island Time.” Which, as it turns out, is not some bullshit Jimmy Buffet made up.
They’ll arrive home late, the luggage will be left in the entry way. They might be talkative for the first 20 minutes and then they’ll crash into travel induced comas.
They’ll slowly trudge downstairs in the morning probably tired and a more than a little grumpy over the prospect of returning to their normal and very un-tropical existence. This is where Maggie comes in since she’ll be bouncing around them like a Pomeranian puppy on crack. This, of course, will have nothing to do with Mike and I spending all day prior pumping her up and explaining to her that Bubby and Katie will be here when she wakes up in the morning. However early that may be. Don’t gasp and tell me how horrible I am, this child is an absolute necessity to my strategy of keeping the teenagers just a little off balance.
MY GOD people! We’re talking about my very survival here!
Mike and I will try to be patient until one of us trips over the afore mentioned luggage for the 10th time. But, it’s that moment when we ask them to haul their luggage upstairs and unpack that reality will really set in. That’s when the war will really be on. We’ll hear the huffs, we’ll see the eyes roll and I will look at Mike and quietly I’ll whisper, “Yeah, missed you too, you little bastards.”
They are teenagers, it is perfectly acceptable for me to refer to them this way. All is fair in love and war, people, now say it with me…
This is the part that can be just a little tricky. We’ll have to step carefully here, one sudden move and they’ll have us by our jugulars. I hear that can be pretty uncomfortable, so we won’t dare to suggest that they return to their normal chore routine lest we inspire a full blown mutiny. No, instead we’ll give them a day or two before we suggest that the empty soda cans and dirty glasses that are piled in their rooms be returned to the kitchen so that the rest of the family can avoid drinking out of their hands or left over McDonald’s cups or something.
By the end of the week it might be safe to remind them that there is a chore list for each of them on the refrigerator. Maybe. I’m keeping this option open as their may be more subtle ways of handling the situation.
By next week, provided they’ve caught up with all of their friends after their “long absence” from their typical social circles, we’ll suggest that they begin some basic summer projects like cleaning out their closets.
Of course, Ethan will be attending summer school so to suggest that he clean out his closet as well when he’s trying to balance a social life, a wonderful girlfriend, summer school, and all of his other hobbies would be akin to suggesting that one should store expensive cigars in a cookie jar with the Oreos.
And all of that hinges on whether or not we have eased them back into their chore schedule without waking up with pineapples rammed up our asses and tiny umbrellas shoved under our fingernails. Subtlety is NOT in the teenager nature, therefore any attacks from that side will include explosions, rash decisions and most likely, brutality.
That’s why the first attack must be from our side, it must be swift, clear, yet subtle. Some might say sneaky, because it could easily be mistaken as a crude attempt to lull them into a sense of false security. It’s not though, it’s a multi-leveled, well thought out plan of attack. They won’t know what hit them.
Don’t think they don’t have a plan of attack. They’ll come back with little grenades called “souvenirs” and “gifts.” They can be sneaky… sneaky, but never subtle that is.
Therefore, our plan of attack must be in place before they ever arrive home. While they were on a plane I was preparing for the arrival of my offspring much like I did before their births. Well, minus the pretty nursery and me still making their beds and putting their cutesy, teeny clothes away. I cleaned the house from stem to stern. Floors were mopped and vacuumed, dishes were put away, the kitchen was scoured from top to bottom, and all the towels were washed. I was even kind enough to tidy up their bathroom that is supposed to be their responsibility that they slipped out of town without taking care of.
They will come into a house that is orderly, neat, tidy and they will mistake it to be a welcome home gesture. Ahhh. But it is so much more for clearly, the house is clean, no chores are required.
And that, my friends, is where it begins. Like a silent, ninja concrete filled boot from behind slamming right into their behinds.
*WARNING*
For those of you who are new around here or are under the impression that I am a nice person. I just want you to know that I am, but I am about to lose my shit in the following paragraphs and I just don’t want you to hold it against me. You’ve been warned. - Oh, and fair warning, sarcastic comments probably won’t be looked at kindly today. Just so you know.
You know what? I’m goddamn done being the nice guy, being the bigger person. And so help me God, someone is going to pay for this garbage in a big, fat, ugly, ass raped, burn for eternity in hell kind of way.
We do not have a home owner’s association. Thank God, around here they are pretty much nothing but trouble and complete bullshit.
My front yard? Is immaculate. I’d post pictures but I’m too fucking pissed to go outside right now, because if IF I see a neighbor look at me so much as slightly crossway I’m going to light their ass up bigger than any fucking 4th of July barbecue.
My backyard? IMMACULATE. Slightly immature, but what do you expect for a yard that is only a year old?
We have a 1964 Chevy truck in our driveway. It won’t fit in the garage, it’s 4-wheel drive, and primer gray. We don’t drive it because a.) it’s my son’s truck, waiting for time for he and his father to make it pretty again (also it was owned by my FIL originally and passed down to Mike) and b.) umm, it doesn’t have appropriate seat belts and WHY in God’s name would we drive it around when we have two vehicles of our own and our son does not have a license yet, hmmm? Essentially, it’s a classic that just needs to be restored.
Some stupid, fucking, cockwadding, asswiping, numbfuck, twatsicle neighbor called to complain to the city about the truck and the two bantam chickens in the backyard. Oh yes, the TWO, TINY chickens in the backyard that control unwanted pests and are totally a GREEN FRIENDLY SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT (there is currently a bill they are trying to get passed to allow this for home gardeners) alternative to spraying chemicals around our children and further polluting the planet.
The guy from the city? Thought it was funny actually. Considering there are train tracks nearby and non-fucking stop construction from the construction crews who refuse to wait until their 7am start time to start building the fucking houses on the lots that line the back of our property. He walked into a lovely backyard with butterflies buzzing around, daylilies in bloom, and two adorable chickens nesting under the butterfly bush.
Two chickens that I have to get rid of TODAY and THEN call this guy back out to ensure that we did it.
If I find out which neighbor it was - God help them. I will make their lives a living hell.
How about the neighbors in the cul-de-sac who have lined their fucking front porch with hideous looking plants and LEFT THEM in the ugly black containers from the nursery so it looks like a weed (and not the good kind) factory behind their stupid ass looking fountain and house that they have fronted with four different kinds of mismatched rocks that looks like a design nightmare straight from hell.
Or perhaps the neighbor two doors over with the 8 foot weed in her front bed and backyard that is nothing but dirt - when our purchase contracts state that we have to put in a backyard within a year of occupying the property?
Oh wait.. or maybe the neighbors behind us who threw a big ass party with cars lined up and down the streets and then several party goers pulled up with a flat bed trailer and started loading up lumber from the construction site? (Mike called the police on that one)
Or the neighbor across the street who NEVER MOVED in and has 6 foot weeds in the backyard and beds overflowing with weeds in the front yard?
Oh wait, let’s not even mention the stupid fucks in the cul-de-sac who bought a house that is terra cotta and GRAY only to paint the door flaming fucking twat-wad red? Hmmmm?
Or the nine houses on the streets around us where no one is mowing their damn lawn?
Or the house next door that is not foreclosed on (YET) and the backyard has HUGE weeds growing in it that I have to look at every time I fucking go out on the deck.
OR the fucking neighbor two doors over with 3 full size Dobermans (and at least one more small dog) that bark NON FUCKING STOP? It’s not even legal to have that many dogs here and why would you put 3 HUGE dogs in a tiny dog run in a tiny backyard anyway? And the BARKING? Did I mention the constant BARKING?
But NO, immaculate front yard and very pretty backyard owning US - get harassed.
I’m livid. I love this house but all the neighbors can go suck a rotten cock for all I care.
UPDATE
Although not much of one. Mike was in contact with another gentleman (from the same part of town we are in) who has close to an acre (zoned for livestock) where he has bunnies and bantam chickens. He is more than happy to come and pick up Hank and Chickie. We’re just happy to have found a home that will treat them as kindly as we have. Although, that is little consolation. I’m going to miss going out and talking to Chickie and petting her. She coos so pretty when you pet her.
Of course, this does little to quell my deep desire for revenge. I’m trying to work through the anger but it’s pretty hard. My neighbor next door couldn’t believe it. She’s of the “Nancy Drew” nature, so maybe she’ll find something out. As it stands, I can’t say for sure it’s a neighbor, maybe it was one of the builder’s employees, maybe it was someone in the sales office, it could just have been some “Johnny Rulebook” who happened to walk by.
My kids are in Oahu for 7 days. Well, less than that now since they’ll be back on Tuesday.
Tropical paradise… I’m trying not to envy the little bastards but it’s getting hard.
Especially when I receive things like this on my cell phone:
My lovely daughter sent me that their first night there. It’s the view from their hotel room.
*sigh*
All I know is that if I don’t get a couple of boxes of chocolate covered Macadamia nuts out of this someone is going to catch hell. In the meantime, it’s just Mike, Maggie and I. Oh, and occasionally Tim who we’ve sort of just adopted. I’m moving up from animals back up off me, man!
Tuesday night Maggie let the stupid bird out of his cage. He flew into the ceiling fan, got caught in the wind current, was thrown into the wall and landed on the back of the couch. He sat there looking rather stunned and shaking his head. Thank God Liza was asleep and missed it because I don’t think he’d have lasted long. I think that bird was not blessed with the normal brain birds get.
Yesterday we were going to take Maggs to the movies. Kung Fu Panda. Maggie got up around 9am and went back to bed at 11, slept until almost 2, woke up and went back to sleep on the couch until around 5 when she woke up and promptly puked. After that she was back in the game 100% - twenty minutes after puking she had let Sophie loose and I found Sophie standing up on her hind legs barking at Tim.
I think she was totally getting off on someone being intimidated by her! They (Ethan and Tim) both swear that Sophie has bit them… I don’t believe it for a second. My little angel wouldn’t ever do that!
Thank God/Goddess that school is OUT OUT OUT. Finals are over and another summer vacation has begun. Well, not for me, but for the kids at least. Still… they’ll be around a lot (minus their annual vacation with my mom) and I am totally looking forward to that.
Anyway, kid/mom stuff aside I’m ready to bore you with more of my favorite things… aren’t you excited?
Ok, I readily admit, I’m a foodie. I love food. Good food. Old school, gourmet, barbecue, Asian, Mexican… from biscuits and gravy to quiche or sushi.
But, the other day I was chatting with Crys (OMG, have you visited that site? Did you get a reading? WHY NOT!?!?! Do it NOW!) and we were talking about drinks. It was that moment that I had an epiphany, I’m a drinkie too! And, if that isn’t a thing, then it’s an Amy-ism and I can TOTALLY use it.
I like beer, but I’m more on the high-end of that one. Microbrews. You won’t catch me with a Bud Light or Coors Light in my hand. Blech. I love the flavor, I love how it goes with certain foods. I love drinking them and figuring out what different things I’m tasting in them.
I love tequila. I wouldn’t have said that a couple of years ago after a bad, bad night on Cuervo. But, I’m a convert now. I love Patron and Cazadores. Cuervo is ok if I’m making Margaritas. Hornitos isn’t bad either… but it falls below Cazadores.
Vodka is awesome. It’s so versatile! I love a good Bloody Mary with an extra shot of Tabasco and Worcestershire. Although, I had one really, really bad evening doing lemon drop shots. This would be when one takes lemon wedges, rolls them in sugar, shoots Vodka and then sucks on the sugar covered lemon wedge. Delicious. As long as you don’t have too many.
In the winter I like Colorado Bulldogs. This is 3/4 shot Vodka, 3/4 shot Kahlua, 1/2 & 1/2 (cream) and then top with Coke. OMG. Soooo good. Butterball shots go well with this… 1/2 Irish Creme Liquor and 1/2 Butterscotch schnapps. I think, were Starbuck’s to make a shot, the Butterball would probably be it. I also like whiskey in the winter. But, only Maker’s Mark, over ice. It’s niiiiiiiice.
I also love gin martinis, very dry, shaken. It’s a totally clean, sugar-less buzz that almost never causes a hangover. But, they aren’t very good for hot weather. In the summer I like Grass Skirts occasionally. 1 1/2 oz. gin, 1 oz Cointreau or Triple Sec, 1 ounce pineapple juice, 1/2 tsp grenadine. AWESOME.
When I’m feeling very tropical and whatnot, I love a Bahama Mama. Rum, Malibu Rum, 99 Bananas and pineapple juice. OMG. HEAVEN in a glass… with or without the little umbrella.
See? I think this makes me a drinkie. The first person to say, “No, that makes you an alcoholic, will guarantee themselves a full castration with a rusty spoon.”
Maggie got up around 9am and went back to bed at 11, slept until almost 2, woke up and went back to sleep on the couch until around 5 when she woke up and promptly puked. After that she was back in the game 100% - twenty minutes after puking she had let Sophie loose and I found Sophie standing up on her hind legs barking at Tim. 
