"Don't spend time beating on a wall hoping to transform it into a door." Coco Chanel

I showed you this door I pilfered from Ben's awhile ago, but I did some extra work on it, so here ya go!

Plain, blah (tho I'm wondering if this was better...)

Pictures, fabric, hooks- fabulous?

Added the mirror and a sign my friend, Theresa, gave me awhile ago...

I love it. I want another one for behind my front door now.  Dad, get to work! Ben, find me another door!


I'm feeling very lonely these days. Even my dreams are tormenting me with "relationships". Funnily enough, the men in these dreams are guys I went to elementary school with, lol! Don't even ask me where that's coming from... It's a struggle being single when I don't want to be, but I also don't want to settle for anything less than what brings me happiness. So, here I sit, lonely for someone I'm beginning to wonder exists and dreaming of the relationship I want and attempting not to dwell on this shit too much.

Shan told me tonight she considers her husband 1/2 her husband and 1/2 my husband. I asked if he was aware of this arrangement.  I'm thinking it could work out. She gets all the hassle; I get him only when I need his help with something and then I can send him home.


That's all I got for tonight folks. I'm afraid to go to bed because my dreams are so much more pleasant, but they make me incredibly sad upon waking...

"Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?" -Ecclesiastes, 4:11

Katie, Cousin Lucas and Lyla

Yes, can you believe it? Scripture for my title. Whodathunkit?

The reason for it is this: I went to my cousin's wedding Saturday and Ecclesiastes 4 was the scripture reading. I didn't like it, haha.

On my way to the wedding, which was a 2 hour drive in what I consider to be hillbilly country - close enough to the Missouri border to think, "All these bastards down here probably owned slaves."- I realized that once Ben gets married, I will be the only cousin on both sides of the family to still be single....to have never married. It depressed me. I'm not much of a conformist, but I don't like to be the lone person blazing a trail. I like having a buffer - someone who's aligned with me in my solitude.

It isn't that I want to be solitary. I don't. I want a partner in crime as much as the next person. It's just...on the one hand, there aren't very many options to choose from and the options available suck ass. On the other hand, there are too many options to choose from and so I just keep moving to the next one and the next one and the next one. Internet has ruined settling. If not for the internet, maybe I would have settled for someone by now.  Or maybe not. Who the fuck knows?

And then....during the wedding, the pastor asked everyone to raise their hands who were married.  Jesus, it was like he was blatantly trying to point out to me and everyone else, "Here's a 42 year old woman who's still single. Doesn't her life suck?" He went on to tell my cousin and his new bride to take a look around because "these are the people who will support you".  So, because I'm single you fat-ass bastard, I'm incapable of helping?

It's a miracle I didn't just start bawling right there in the second row.

I didn't because of this: my life is full. I love my life. I do. Sure, some things could be better, but show me someone's life that's perfect and I'll show you a lie. Of course I want someone in my life, but just because I don't have someone in my life doesn't make my life less-than or meaningless or worthless.

So there, Pastor What's-His-Name!

And guess what? I don't sleep alone. I fall asleep to the vibration of Garfield's purr because she's so goddamn happy to be dog-less again.

Colin, Ben, Connor, Kyle, Dad, Chris, Victor, Chris, Zoe, Sadie, Rachel, Mom, Misty

That's right folks! My parents are back from my niece's wedding in California and after a week of watching
their two dogs, I remember why I don't own any. Barking. Just barking. That's the only reason. I hate barking. I need about a week away from any dog to recover. It's like having PTSD - any loud noise makes me cringe until I find my Zen again. It's slowly returning...

Seeing all of the pictures from the wedding, I really regret not being there. Big regret. I hate regret.

I'm hating a lot lately.

Maybe that's why I've been such a crabby bitch for...going on 2 weeks now. Ugh. I met with my therapist yesterday and we didn't really resolve the WHY. Why am I such a bitch lately? I'm annoyed with almost everyone. Everybody talks too damn much and don't fucking listen, that's for damn sure, and I simply refuse to be one of those people who just sits and listens to everybody else talk and never says anything themselves...yet, that's what I feel I'm becoming. If nobody listens, what's the point of talking? I'll just continue seeing a therapist for 1 hour every 2 weeks and just talk to Garfield.  That'll be my talk time. Poor therapist....and lucky Garfield! She gets the joy of my endless wit. What a lucky cat.

I'm pretty sure that's what it all boils down to...conversation. I'm lacking in good conversation with fun, smart people. I have plenty of fun, smart people in my life, don't get me wrong....but there's something about epic conversations that make me happy. Endless listening - ugh, shoot me now. Want to kill a relationship with me? Talk. Just talk. That'll end it real quick.

That's been the big hurdle with dating. I never realized how much men talk! I thought it was women who were the talkers! Nope, it's men. Blah, blah, blah. Shut up already!

Look, I'm even annoying myself - I know what a bitch I'm being. For some reason, I have yet to figure out how to shut that off. Next therapy session...

On a more positive note, I tested with TranscribeMe.com and passed and have begun transcribing short 90-second snippets of audio recordings. Today was the first day of "work". In one hour, I transcribed 4 snippets.  Of course, I was interrupted twice and at the beginning was listening through my computer monitor, whose volume sucks ass and it wasn't until Dad (one of the two interruptions) helped me figure out how to plug in my headphones into the tower that I truly started listening. Headphones make all the difference, especially when listening to some pretty odd accents. (Here I go...listening for a job. Hmmmm.) My work has to be checked and approved before I get paid, but so far, 2 out of 4 have been approved and I've made $1.02!! Hahahahaha.  It'll improve, trust me. Once I get the style guide memorized and now that I have headphones working and as soon as I get a foot pedal, my speed will increase dramatically.  As of now, though, I'm a Level 3 Speedster!  I'm feeling pretty good about the whole damn thing.  Think I'll pat myself on the back for a job well done.

And the best picture of all this past week?

Aunt Hope!!!!!

"It's just a bad day...not a bad life."

How many days in a row can you say, "It's just a bad day, not a bad life" until so many bad days accumulate and one day you realize you've said "It's just a bad day, not a bad life" a trillion times and it hits you: Could it actually be a bad life?


I wrote that yesterday. Tim said I had to finish the post so he'd have something to read.  I'm obliging if nothing else.

I've been a raging irritable bitch for days.  I don't know why. Usually it's because I need to sleep or eat.  I'd done both...but it was the Antique Walk and I had a friend over Thursday night-Friday and he was wearing on me.  I swear, some people just suck the life right out of me and it takes days to recover.  He did and it did.  Today is a better day....so far.

Honestly, I'm looking forward to not speaking to anyone for a week.  The fam will be in California for a week and I don't really talk to anyone else but them, so there ya go.  They're protected from the vileness that spews from my mouth and I don't have to deal with the guilt of knowing I'm a bitch and incapable of doing much about it.

My therapist and I continue to work on low self-esteem.  I've made it through learning about all the negative self talk and am finally on the positive homework.  It actually is helping.  I was supposed to write down a list of my positive attributes (I had to text Shan to get the ball rolling because I just laughed and thought, "None".).  Here's what I noticed.  I played down a lot of them.  For example, I would write "Pretty handy" or "Sort of fit" or I'd write a comment like, "Organized - except now because I'm lazy".

See how even a positive I turn into a negative?  It struck me as soon as I completed the list, but I didn't erase anything - I left it all as is.  In therapy, she made me read the list without the negative comments.  It felt weird and she could tell, even then, I was uncomfortable and laughing about it all.

I have a lot of work to do.

However, while I continue to think about Chris every fucking day, I'm not thinking about how much I miss him or glorifying our relationship - I'm seeing what a total and complete asshole he was.  I thought last night, if he were to show up at my house, I'd go outside with my baseball bat and tell him what a bad idea it would be to get out of his truck and to get the hell out of my town and never come back.  And then the next instant, I think, "Would I really do that?"  I would want to.  I'm never going to have to do anything except continue getting over him because he'll never reach out to me again.  I cannot wait for the day I don't think about him at all and the day I realize I haven't thought of him in a week, a month, a year.  I'm watching the 1944 movie "Gaslight".  It's making me furious.  Furious is good.


Below are some fantastic items from this year's Antique Walk:

Dead bodies? An orgy? Who knows!

Catfish made out of metal. It was bought Friday...

I saw this and said "It's perfect for me!" The vendor said, "Oh no, not you".  How nice...she didn't even know me. Obviously clueless. 

Birdhouse made out of plaster. That sucker was huge!

Finally! My knight in shining armor!! Kinda skinny tho...

I wanted to buy this sooooo bad, but waited until Sunday and waited too long. :(  

I also wanted to buy this and repaint it.  It was only $35.00! I'm kicking myself I didn't...

The storm that blew through Friday night. Everything survived. 

All in all, it was a good weekend, though I wish like hell I had been in a better mood.  The weather cooperated for the most part, there was a lot of interesting stuff and time well spent with family & friends. I didn't even have to yell at anyone!! But boy I'm glad it's over.


I finally finished my niece's wedding gift.

If you like this type of stuff, is this something you'd pay actual money for (and not Monopoly money)?  My therapist first told me I should try selling this stuff....and then Dad said it to me....and then a friend of the family said it to me....so I'm finally starting to consider it.  I'm working on a birthday gift for Shan now so maybe when I'm done with that, I'll start working on just random shit to sell.  We'll see....

I'm also looking into doing transcription from home.  I need a new computer with updated software, transcription software, foot pedal, etc....but just imagine.  Working from home! How great would that be?


And for your viewing pleasure.....Creeper!

I was laughing too hard when I took this one...

Oh! And then there's this:

A few weeks ago when I was slaving away at Ben's, we took a load of junk to the dump.  He had this door in his dump pile! WTF?!?!?!?!?!  So, of course, I pilfered it...for what, I didn't know.  I knew I wanted to use it inside, put pictures behind the glass (or fabric, or I don't know what) and it's been in my basement since.  Then when Mom, Dad and I were walking the Antique Walk, I told Mom about it and I'm pretty sure she said, "All you need is a bench".  Well, guess what?  I just happened to have a bench (the one Dad made last year) that is the perfect length!  It's as if Dad built it just for this!  I just have to get some coat hooks that are adorable, put stuff behind the glass, clean it up and I have my very own entryway coatrack, which I have wanted for at least two years!  I remember last year, walking around the Antique Walk and seeing something very similar to this (mine is way cooler) and remarking to Dad that he needed to make one for me.

I love it when shit comes together.

And now I'm running out of shit to talk about, so read a book, Tim.  Read a book.  :)

"Bikini season is right around the corner! Unfortunately, Baskin Robbins was closer."

Below is a bench (or a side table) my dad made for me out of tree stumps!  I had brought him a big 'ol stump from when I helped some friends cut down a tree and asked him to make me something out of it.  I had no idea what.  He found another stump down at the local tree dump and made this masterpiece.  It's beautiful!  My stump is the top portion of the bench and It. Is. Gorgeous.  I'll have to send a picture to my friends in CB...

Mom & Dad are contracting out a new sidewalk at the front and side of my house (to be done after the Antique Walk) and since the sidewalk is going to have to curve around 2 huge trees & their stumps, Dad and I moved all of the bushes we had planted on the South side of the house 2 years ago.  Five total.  Surprisingly, they all seemed to have survived the move...

My living room wall was peeling paint so I did this...

Doesn't it look like an upside down baby and an upside down person? Too weird...

 Dad came over and smoothed joint compound over the disaster area (which grew considerably from above) and then I painted today...with paint I had in my basement for the last 4 years.  Apparently, it had gone bad.

It's supposed to be French Toast (color) but it looks like Dijon Mustard! 

Grrrrrrrrr, so I'm heading to Walmart tomorrow to see if they can match my French Toast paint.  Dad says what I did was good primer.  I liked his white plaster look better.  This looks like baby poop!


I finally finished my cousin's wedding gift (pic below).  I almost have my niece's complete, which is a damn good thing because it has to be done by Monday, June 19th when Mom & Dad head out to Cali for the wedding.

What do you think?

Inside the heart are their initials (L & K) and then "love" through the center.

It is by no means perfect, but I think I'll write something in the card to that effect and how perfect marriages are made of two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other...or some shit like that, lol.  

I'm trying really damn hard to lose weight this week, so in an effort to do so, I put this on my kitchen cupboard where I keep the goddamn peanut butter M&Ms....because just not buying them would be too easy!

It worked today....so far.  

"The reason people awaken is because they have finally stopped agreeing to things that insult their soul."

I don't know quite how to put this, so I'm just going to ramble on for a bit until it starts making sense.  If I edit the post, you won't even know I rambled.  If I don't edit the post, you have my sincerest apologies for reading how my mind works.  Not that you haven't figured that out already....

Do you ever wonder if or notice people thinking differently of you than you think of yourself?  I'm not necessarily talking about having low self-esteem and not seeing your own worth when others like you for whatever reason and see your value.  No, I'm not talking about that.  I'm talking about....what the hell am I talking about?

OK, for example, I might be going on a date Tuesday evening with a guy from POF.  I've seen pictures of him but ya know...they're pictures.  I never really know what a person looks like until I see them in real life.  I'm better in person than I am in pictures.  I am not photogenic.  But that's beside the point.  The point is, he cautioned me that he has a lot of tattoos and worried that I would be embarrassed to be seen with him.

So here's a good looking guy (presumably) who wears a suit to work so he must have a good job (presumably) worried that I would think less of him because he has tattoos - or that I would view him differently socially?  Is that what I'm wondering about?

For me, it's this:  I don't think of myself as poor, even though I clearly am.  I don't think of myself as living a hard life, even though I clearly have (drinking & smoking, among other poorly chosen escapades).  I don't think of myself as low class or at the bottom of the social totem pole, though I certainly could be.  I don't think of myself as crass or uncouth even though I cuss like a goddamn sailor.

But what if strangers I meet on the street think ALL of those things about me?

IT DOESN'T MATTER.  It doesn't fucking matter!  Isn't that wonderful?!?!?!?!?

Maybe it's because I grew up so overly concerned with every little thing about my appearance (hair, zits, makeup, clothes) and somehow, somewhere along the way, none of that mattered anymore.  I wear Walmart clothes, Salvation Army clothes.  I'm damn proud to tell people when they ask me where I got that cute top or those cute shoes to say "Walmart! Salvation Army! Can you believe it?"  It isn't about where you bought something or if it's a name brand...it's how it makes you feel when you wear it!  I still worry about my hair, but much, much less so....thus the short, messy look (though it has to be the right shorty, messy look). Yes, I still get zits, but I've learned to let them run their course & smother them with concealer.   I hardly wear makeup, so, there ya go.

I carry myself well.  I fake, fake, fake confidence.  I know to look people in the eyes when speaking to them.  I know to be polite and considerate and respectful of everyone no matter who they are (even if I hate them) and no matter what they look like (goiter lady at Walmart) and no matter how they speak (every other word is "fuck") or how they smell (though this one is especially hard for me because I have an overly sensitive nose).  I know I look reasonably good.  I'm relatively fit (& definitely so for my age).  I look nice (even though I have a fantastic resting bitch face).  I have decent teeth and a decent smile and my face is expressive and even though it isn't symmetrical, for some reason, people still find me attractive.  I'm funny and kind and no-nonsense. I am smart even though sometimes I don't think so.  I can carry on conversations, deep or shallow (though I hate shallow conversations).  I'm well-read and well-versed in social niceties.  I have passionate political and religious views that I can speak about with intelligence, but choose not to out of respect for other people's views on the same.

Sure, I make, literally, no money.  I smoke.  I'm a recovering alcoholic.  I have tattoos.  I cuss.  A lot.  I have ridiculously low self-esteem.  I deal with severe bouts of depression and am coming to grips with being labelled "bi-polar" (20 years and still can't accept it).  I've been hospitalized for the same.  I have dated so many men, I can't remember 1/4 of their names.  I've had so many sexual partners, I think I may have broken a record of some sort (what was Wilt Chamberlain's?).

None of it matters.  Because I don't think of myself as low class, having lived a hard life, uncouth, crass, "sick", "broken", a slut.  I don't think of myself as those things so those things aren't even on my radar when I meet someone new or a stranger on the street or a friend who hasn't seen me in ages.  I don't worry about what someone else thinks of me because I know what I think of myself.  I mean, of course I want to make good impressions and put my best foot forward - I'm not going to go on a first date with a baseball cap, no makeup, the clothes I slept in the night before covered in cat hair, teeth not brushed, etc, etc, etc.  Duh.  I'm not stupid (see above).  But what other people see as important (making lots of money, keeping up with the Joneses, reputation???) isn't as important to me....because I've never thought of myself in the above terms.

Take Chris calling me a whore when he got angry, which was all the time.  I know why he did it.  He thought it would hurt me.  He thought it would make me feel bad, make me feel worthless, whatever.  But it never did!  Because I know I'm not a whore, I've never thought of myself as a whore and never will think of myself as a whore.  Society has a double-standard against women who enjoy sex.  That's societies problem, not mine.  I'm never going to make it mine so no matter that he called me a whore, it didn't hurt me in the way he intended.  It pissed me off, sure!  But only because of why he was doing it.

I feel like I've reached some sort of epic point in my life....a true epiphany....a true awakening.  It's all going to be okay.

Jesus, is therapy actually working?!?!?!?

"Stalking: When two people go on a romantic walk together but only one of them knows about it."

Just for shits & giggles... Enjoy!

Good luck finding her in the jumble I call my closet!

I have a lot of endearing nicknames for Garfield.  When I miss her and love her, she's Boo Boo or Bubbie or  Sweet Thing.  When she comes tearing in from somewhere, acting like the house is on fire, I ask, "What's up Buttercup?"

But when she's like this, her name is Creeper.  She's Creeper a lot.  A. Lot.