Triple Threat

I have these cousins known as the Gullers who we got from the marriage of my mom and dad, so I've known them since I was about 8. Before we moved to Louisiana, I used to love to go to their fancy house to go swimming in their in-ground pool. Most of them were a lot older than I was, but the baby of the family, Angie, was a teenager then and she was always so nice and sisterly to us. I remember thinking the way she talked was a hoot... the details are blurry but I have a distinct memory involving Wisconsin.

Angie is, of course, grown up now, and she, like her sisters, has an adorable life that is much deserved because she, like the rest of her family, is as nice as a person can possibly be. After one family reunion in Louisville, Angie, her fiance Brendan, her brothers, our cousins Kelly and Shannon, our Aunt Carol and Shannon (my sister) and I went to the pub and discovered we were kindred spirits. Then we went to her wedding in St. Louis and had a blast secret dancing. Then we cheered her on when she got on the show While You Were Out to turn part of her house into an Irish bar for Brendan, who is also supremely adorable. And then she went on to have a couple of adorable little boys, Dylan and Drew, who are 3 and 2.
I guess when you're as good at adorability as Angie is, you may as well go for it. So she and Brendan decided to have one more baby...

Silly rabbits.

My dad's mom had twins, one of which is Angie's mom, so multiples run in the family. But Angie got triplets this time. Triplets! That's like genetic's dirty joke.

We got to see Angie over the summer when we went to our cousin Kevin's wedding, and I swear, she is the most adorable pregnant with triplets lady ever made.
But despite carrying three babies better than I would with one, Angie's baby quarters got cramped and Jack, Emma and Grace decided to relocate to roomier digs on Jan. 16, at just over 33 weeks.

Because they weighed all of 3 and 4 pounds when they were born, they've spent the last couple weeks in the hospital but should be going home soon.

And that's when the real fun will start.

I really cannot wrap my mind around how insane life with 5 under 5 is going to be. My family can barely potty train the toddlers we have... and we share them among 9 adults. Can you imagine? Changing diapers for three infants and one toddler and wiping the butt of the other one? Feeding two toddlers one thing and three infants another. And somehow still managing to bathe, feed yourself, go to the grocery store, answer the phone, not jump off the roof?

I don't know how Angie and Brendan are going to do it, but I know that they will and they'll do it with their beaming smiles across their faces because that's just the way they are. They were born with that ability to count their blessings before giving an ounce of attention to their struggles.

And three simultaneous blessings have got to be pretty impossible to ignore.

What Happened at School Today

Yeah, so, sorry for the little freak out the other day. Things are much better now. Much Better.

I didn't think it was so desperate of a message until my dad called me to make sure I wasn't suicidal. I assured him that I'd be homicidal before I'd be suicidal, not that he felt any more assured by that.

Anyway, on to other things, like my graphic design class where I'm the only girl and non-Jesus-proclaimer in the entire class.

Seriously.

One of the guy's emails contains godfearing and one of them is just biding his time until he can start Bible College. On the first day of class, I was the only one who didn't bring in a magazine featuring football or lacrosse or hunting on the cover.

I stick out a little bit.

For our second assignment we were supposed to bring in a photocopy of an object we like. I chose to photocopy a chicken foot I got in New Orleans when Liz, Amy & I visited there. I don't know what role a chicken foot plays in voodoo, but I know it does something because I bought it in a voodoo store. I actually got two of them... one that was red and gimpy looking and one that looks like it could be a creepy old human hand... because I thought they looked cool. For class, I brought in the creepy humanish one and a photocopy of it placed eerily on the bottom of the page, like it was reaching into the space and getting ready to steal your breath.

I thought it looked pretty cool. And when the teacher said she liked mine the best (Girl Power!), some of the guys threw their votes my way too. Until my teacher pointed out the voodoo connection.

You should have seen the fear pale the faces in that room.

I tried to break the silence by saying, "That's right boys. You better watch out." I should have known my photocopy was too dangerous, too big a threat to god to get a laugh.

The godfearing guy looked at me like I was a glass-eyed voodoo queen from a desperate back alley trying to steal his money and said, "It's alright. I've got Jesus on my side."

Dude. It's a photocopy. Of a chicken foot. That was voted Best in the Class.

One of those days

Today was alright.

And then it turned into a horrific pile of shit that you accidentally step on and your shoe comes flying out from underneath you and when you fall down you smack your head on the ground and when you come to your face is in the shit and there're little shit flecks all over your mouth but you're out of it from slipping on the shit so you lick your lips without thinking and then you're eating the shit that made you fall and that's all over your face and that makes you vomit but you haven't really felt like eating so the vomit is really acidic and biley and because you're still disoriented you're puking while on your back and it's projectile enough to splatter into your eye and make you go blind in a really burny way and when you finally try to stand up and scoot out of the shit-vomit pile of blind smelliness someone comes along and kicks you with all of their might right in the belly, the belly that just yakked bile in your eye, and you get your period.

I'm not really expecting tomorrow to be any better.

Pretty Much the Sexiest Thing I've Ever Seen

I know this will probably shock most of you, but, well, I can't dance. Especially when sober.

But, if I could dance, I would want to dance like this. And be Beyonce in general.

Four Solid Years

I just realized that today, like this actual day, marks the start of my fifth year of blogging.

Four years done, completely... 411 random ramblings about what I'm doing... hundreds of hours spent in this strange little life archive thing I've got going on.

That's a shocking degree of commitment to something created from a misunderstanding. I hope it's been as fun for you, all five of you, as it's been for me.

Things I Read in the Inheritance of Loss that Made My Brain Twitch a Little

Let me start this off by saying that The Inheritance of Loss is described as "sumptuously written." I've never heard a book, or anything else for that matter, described as sumptuous, but now I may add that as a criteria on certain lists I keep.

As one of the main characters, a judge, sets off from his native India to pursue higher education and elevate his class:

"The judge was accompanied by his father. At home, his mother was weeping because she had not estimated the imbalance between the finality of good-bye and the briefness of the last moment."

As the judge's granddaughter sits with the family cat, Mustafa:

"Then there was the cat, Mustafa, a sooty hirsute fellow demonstrating a perfection of containment no amount of love or science could penetrate. He was, at this moment, starting up like a lorry on Sai's lap, but his eyes looked blankly right in hers, warning her against mistaking this for intimacy."

As Biju, the judge's cook's son who is trying to make a go at it in America with the hopes of elevating his class, is delivering food on bike for a Chinese restaurant in the dead of winter:

"...he began to weep from the cold, and the weeping unpicked a deeper vein of grief -- such a terrible groan issued from between the whimpers that he was shocked his sadness had such depth."

As Sai, who has been studying under a male tutor named Gyan, confers with an older female ex-pat:

"'Time should move,' Noni had told her. 'Don't go in for a life where time does not pass, the way I did. That is the single biggest bit of advice I can give you.'"

As Biju reflects on the life of his nemesis, Mr. Shah, an Indian who was working toward the American Dream as the Indians at home saw it:

"Photos of the exterior (of the house Shah had bought) had been sent to all the relatives in Gujarat, a white care parked in front. A Lexus, that premier luxury vehicle. On top of it sat his wife looking self-satisfied. She had left India a meek bride, scrolled and spattered with henna, so much gold in her sari she set off every metal detector in the airport -- and now here she was -- white pantsuit, bobbed hair, vanity case, and capable of doing the macarena."

As Sai celebrates Christmas with her older ex-pat friends:

"For the occasion, the sisters had brought out their ornaments from England -- various things that looked as if they tasted of mints..."

As the judge consumates with his wife from an arranged marriage, who he's just caught powdering herself with his treasured American powder and puff:

"Ghoulishly sugared in sweet candy pigment, he clamped down on her, tussled her to the floor, and as more of that perfect rose complexion, blasted into a million motes, came filtering down, in a dense frustration of lust and fury -- penis uncoiling, mottled purple-black as if with rage, blundering, uncovering the chute he had heard rumor of -- he stuffed his way ungracefully into her."

As all the characters are affected by India's fight for liberation from England:

"For crimes that took place in the monstrous dealings between nations, for crimes that took place in those intimate spaces between two people without a witness, for these crimes the guilty would never pay. There was no religion and no government that would relieve the hell."

As Biju calls home to India from an American payphone to check on his father during the revolution, only to have the conversation stifled by a terrible connection:

"He could not talk to his father; there was nothing left between them but emergency sentences, clipped telegram lines shouted out as if in the midst of a war... He stood with his head still in the phone booth studded with bits of stiff chewing gum and the usual FuckShitCockDickPussyLoveWar, swatikas, and hearts shot with arrows mingling in a dense graffiti garden, too sugary too angry too perverse -- the sick sweet rotting mulch of the human heart."

As Sai searches for the object of her affection, Gyan, in his lower class neighborhood after he rejects her for no apparent reason:

"The churches were dark; the missionaries always left in dangerous times to enjoy chocolate chip cookies and increase funds at home, until it was peaceful enough to venture forth again, that they might launch attack, renewed and fortified, against a weakened and desperate populace."

That was then, this is now.

I think it's a boy.

Not wanting to give my lizard friend any gender predispositions since I don't really know what gender s/he is, I put some androgynous photographs of Brooke Shields and David Bowie up in his cage when he moved in. S/he has pretty much ignored them until tonight, when I gave what I now know to be a HIM a bath and cleaned out HIS tank.

He'd been a little gloomy seeming today, so to perk him up I fed him. Romaine lettuce and cantaloupe... by hand. He enjoyed those snacks much more than the giant crunchies of gross he'd been dodging in his tank for the last week. Then I figured I'd clean out his tank to get it ready to move to its new home with Robin & Joe, a couple of Mack's pals. Robin is desperately in love with some guinea pigs she has, and when she saw my Facebook post about getting Creep from Betsy, she immediately said how bad she wanted a lizard. I offered her Creep because, well, I never meant to have him for life and if someone is that excited about getting him, he'll probably be better off with them. To clean his tank, I had to put him somewhere, and what better holding room than the bathtub with some toasty water in it. Betsy used to let him swim every now and then and he seems to love it. In my experience, I think he uses the bath to drink the water he needs for survival.

Anyway, I get his house all clean and set up again. I get him out of the tub and warm him back up with the heating pad. And then I put him back in his tank and go on about my business.

Well, he didn't just pep up. He got downright frisky.

I kept hearing him trying to climb the wall, so I went into the living room to see what the hell was so exciting, and I found him like this.
That right, all up in Brooke's face, trying to make out with her. He was standing upright on two legs trying to look in her eyes, and when I said his name, he whipped his head around at me as if to say, "Cock block much?"

So I creep...

Betsy up and left Lexington, moving to Louisville in an attempt to make me and Leiah madly jealous. Also because she wanted to and transferred to a better college.

She's lived around the corner from me since the spring, and in that time I've made many late night jaunts over to her house to turn off the lights on her lizard cage or bring her pet some crickets. I've watched him grow from this little thing that fit into your hand into this giant monster descended from dinosaurs that isn't too scary since he has no teeth. He has the most complex eyes, like when they look at you they know your past and your future and can sense all the things you need to apologize for.
Since Mack and I had spent the past couple weeks enjoying life with a hamster in L.A., I told my dad we'd take Creep for a little while. Mack especially liked watching him eat crickets, and having a third party in the house takes the pressure of the two humans having to entertain each other all the time. Some people have babies for that reason, but Mack and I aren't insane.

So my dad brought him over... and his tank... and his Giant Box of Accessories... and thank god Leiah was here when he did. She handled the lizard and watched him play in the tub while I cleaned his tank (this thing poops freakishly big turds). Then she warmed him with the heating pad and put him in his new home. He's cool, but I just wasn't ready to touch him.

I dumped in some crickets, watched him run around like a crazy man catching them with his tongue, and promptly began falling for this strange little guy.
With Mack gone for the holidays, Creep's been my companion. He's given me something to take care of and feed and observe. He's been entertaining and silly. And he even let me hold him and show him off to Mack while we were video chatting.

(Creep LOVES to video chat! He kept cocking his head like he was listening and looking at the person, using technology to supplement his all-knowingness. I guess a computer screen may have been like giving acid to a baby for a lizard tho...)

I think we've found a permanent home for him -- not ours -- and I've gotta say, I'm gonna be sad to see him go. He's started to recognize my voice and look at me like, "Hey. You again." I squeak his name out in the morning and I swear he knows I'm talking to him. I'm going to miss watching him hunt his crickets and crunch his kibble and the way he lays on his rock and basks in his UV light like a proud lion.

I am not going to miss his big turds.