i'll go eat worms

Pickle Chicken

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 10 Dec 2012 15:33:00 +0000

Pickle chicken will change your life. For the better. Probably. Maybe pickle chicken will turn you into a prostitute because you'll need money to buy pickles, I don't know. However, what I do know, is that pickle chicken will change. Your. Life.

You'll need:

Pickle juice

Chicken breasts

Spices

Flour mixture (I used a gluten free all purpose flour)

A few eggs with a little water or milk whisked in

Peanut oil

Tools you'll need:

Chicken smasher

Fryer

Zzzzzip!lock bags

Aluminum foil

Whisk

Tongs (one for raw chicken, one for cooked chicken)

First, you'll need to smash your chicken breasts within an inch of their lives (oops). What I do, because I don't mess around with chicken because it's gross, is line my counter with some aluminum foil, put two chicken breasts in each gallon ziplock bag and have one more open ziplock for the marinating. Also, I don't use the tenderizer part of the meat smasher, I just use the flat part with no pointiness because I don't wanna make holes in my bags.

I'm smashing!

Once you've achieved your desired thickness, transfer your smashed chicken into one ziplock all together. Then add pickle juice to cover. I also usually sprinkle some pepper in there too. Then roll up your bag to get the air out, BUT DON'T GET RAW CHICKENY PICKLE JUICE ON THE COUNTER BECAUSE, GROSS. GAH!

Pickle bath.

The chickens hang out for about 30 minutes to an hour in the pickle juice bath. I leave them out on the counter (gasp!) for that time period and I've never done them longer than that so I don't know if you can make it ahead. I do turn the bag over every so often as I think of it. Anywho, once they've been in there long enough, make your breading station. I use the same aluminum foil to go under the two bowls, one with egg wash and one with flour. I spice up both bowls; the eggs just with pepper and salt, the flour with s&p, cayenne pepper, granulated garlic/onion, paprika and whatever else you'd like.

Then the fun (gross) begins. Drip off your pickle juice and put your chicken in the egg mixture, then drip off the egg mixture and flour on both sides. Make a pile of breaded chicken on a plate to easily transfer to the fryer. Next, fry at 375'F for about 10ish minutes until chicken is a) cooked and b) nicely browned.

Oh, yeah, baby!

While you're frying a few at a time, you can put the cooked ones in a 200'F oven to keep them nicely toasty. Then you eat everything right up with green beans and mashed potatoes.

Yes.

Reasons It's Not Almost Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 13 Nov 2012 15:33:00 +0000

I *just* removed the skulls from my mantle display, I need a little more November before we settle into Thanksgiving.

I haven't been to WholeFoods to get the gluten free pie crusts. They're gonna be gone by the time I get there and I'm gonna cry. I haven't come up with a good recipe for pie crusts since two Thanksgivings ago when they were all out of pie crusts, but don't worry, I stocked up and oops I just used my last, year-old pie crust last weekend. I was test driving a pumpkin pie recipe.

My brother('s wife) hasn't had the baby yet. This is more because I want to see the baby and squeeze it ASAP as possible.

We just had *the first* really cold day of fall. I need to just relax and enjoy the cold, please.

I HAVEN'T MADE A LIST OF THINGS I'M GOING TO COOK FOR THANKSGIVING! I need a list. I love a list. I need a doodle-filled list of yumtasticness.

Halloween candy still exists in my life.

I haven't bought a turkey and I don't want to go to the store and get one. There's *people* there at this time of year.

Our chest freezer keeps tripping on and off.

I don't wanna mess up my clean kitchen.

It doesn't *feel* like November.

What are your reasons for procrastinating about Thanksgiving? (Not that you would. You're probably all ready and stuff. Bitches.)

Something Like It

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Thu, 18 Oct 2012 14:33:00 +0000

One's mine and one's my grandpa's. Aren't we so cute????

The man himself (high school grandpa)

Apparently, Katniss Everdeen

Hallo, hallo, ween.

Fall basket of dead things

SPIDER WEB!!! (don't worry, it's just my bracelet)

Hey

Movie night

Play all day

And then the sleeps

Fall is the best at food.

Squeeeeeeze

Wrist party!

I'm treading water to keep my head barely above water at work right now. I have a sad, sad song to sing and I'm not sure what I should really do about it. I've committed to ninety days here and that's what I'm doing. I don't know how/if it will change. I really, really, reallyreally want to love my job again. In related news, if you'd like to hire me to run a gluten-free diner, train your dog, teach you pet CPR/first aid/emergency preparedness, or just be generally awesome near you, please let me know and I'll be right over WITH GUSTO!

Welcome to Crazytown

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 17:51:00 +0000

First Day of Work Face

Labor Day

Masterclass: Relaxation by Dr. G. Pickles

Dr. G. Pickles

What do you use a bidet for?

Birthday Dinner

Chuck's baby feet. This makes me wanna die.

The family that naps together.

Fishtail. This takes me FOREVER to do, you?

Happiest Pants

Finally nail polish. (Essie, Stylenomics. It's much more blue-y/green-y)

Four months (17 weeks)

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Snuggletown, USA

It's been.... Stressful. I walk into work, start running, and run all day long. I feel like a crazy person. The good news is the doctor that's there right now, said I'm doing a good job. SO, um, yay. But the weird part is that when the doctor I'll actually work for get back, we're changing things. It's all very confusing and weird and limbo-y. The puppy comes to work with me now, so he's getting good exposure to being awesome. I can't believe he's almost 18 weeks old (this Friday). He's 5.2 pounds and just the cutest boy. He makes me laugh every day. It makes me so happy that Pants loves him too. The moment I get home, they launch themselves at each other and play until they crash. Chuck's not fully in love with the puppy, especially since I left them together while at Saturwork and the puppy diarrhead on the couch. He's being slowly won over because Pants loves Dr. Gumball Pickles so much.

So Then I Got a Puppy

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Sat, 25 Aug 2012 18:08:00 +0000

Could you just die??? (10 weeks old)

He has been super fun over the past month. We went to Montana together, I couldn't take Pants cos Chuck wasn't coming with me and the puppy had to come because of obvious reasons, and we had a lot of fun times. He's a snuggly sleeper. He's been to the top of Big Mountain in Whitefish and all the shops around our house. He was a champion, super genius traveler.

And he played with the kitten and gave the kitten parasites.

Here's a video of the kitten and puppy battle. Man, that shit was cute. The kitten has now gone to his real home where he'll be treated like a prince and won't have to deal with a puppy eating his face off.

He couldn't decide if this gf pretzel was food. Verdict, NO!

When we got home, he and Pants immediately started playing and really haven't stopped since. I really love it. I wish we could all go swimming but the pool has been too cold with all the rain (!!!) we've gotten recently.

He loves everything Pants does and is.

Sleeping, like a boss.

How we do.

You guys know how weird I am about names for both Google's sake as well as dog safety. We decided on his secrety-secret real name but I need to figure out an internet name. It's also been suggested to use Gumball for his internet name.

Names we went through:

Bean (Ender's Shadow)

Tyrion (motherfucking Lannister)

Mitch

Hank

Best Fwends

In other news, I had a weird, anonymous comment on my post about all the wisdoms I have and I am so warmly fuzzy about the replies from mah friends who commented back at her. I try to be as nice as I can about, well, everything so I hate that there was borderline nastiness encroaching from a meanie. I love yous guys.

I told him the one about the guy. (13 weeks old)

In conclusion, my life has been a leeeeetle hectic lately. I quit my awful job of four years after my boss wanted me to work extra time for no extra monies and a lot of other things building up as well. I'm really, very proud of myself for finally lady nutting-up and quitting. It had turned into a daily cause of nausea and shitty feelings. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I took a leap of faith in myself and it only took a week to find another job. I start my new job on Monday. I have high hopes of it being totally awesome. I'd love to get that passion and support back in my life. The passion never left but it was buried under a shitton of negativity. All of my ideas were shot down and the subsequent bitching about everything wrong was a cyclical hell. I panic just thinking about it.

I'm heading into the new job with excitement and positivity. I hope that I'll be able to get that back. I totally KILLED my working interview (toot-toot), so I think they're excited as well. Watch out, new job, I'mma smash some shit all up.

More puppy pictures? Check out Tumblr.

Killing Wasps And Taking Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 13 Jul 2012 17:31:00 +0000

Kindle in the pool? Are you crazy? Not any more! My mom bought me a DryPak and I love it for reading my Kindle in the pool. They're super cheap too.

So, I killed a wasp nest while drinking and wearing a bikini because I live in Texas.

Rag curls are my new favorite. So easy! I just did four big bunches, tied with strips of t-shirts and slept in them overnight. Chuck said, "I think it's cool you're pretty adventurous with your hair."

Pants+pool=love

Pants+kitten=hilarity

Cheese has blue eyes and murder in his heart.

Had to pick up Chuck's pants from the dry cleaners. His pants not Pants.

Roasted cauliflower and sea scallops. BOOM.

Sit in front of this pretty sky is what I said.

Scratchy don't sit, Scratchy gotta scratch.

It's funny cos it's true.

And finally, here's a link to a video of Pants humping the kitten. It will be the best two seconds of your life. I would've gotten more but Scratchy was trying to steal my lunch and I hit the button. :(

Becky Wisdom

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 09 Jul 2012 14:33:00 +0000

Now that I've reached the ripe old age of THIRTY, I find myself passing on advice to my younger friends. I find myself letting them in on the facts of life being married, thinking about babies (ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING TIME, THANK YOU UTERUS, YOU ABSOLUTE MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE MOTHERFUCKER) and just generally being awesome at being this old.

As a lady who lived with a dude for five years, and then married said dude, I have become some sort of Yoda figure. My friend just asked me yesterday, "What would you suggest for a good lube?" And I was all, "Whaaaaaaat? ... Actually, I was researching sperm-friendly lube recently, which you probably won't be interested in but, I did come across some organic lube that I totally wanted to try out. I think if you're really into getting a high-quality lube, the internet is the way to go." I don't even know how this happened.

Wise, wise Becky with wisdomy glasses.

It's kinda funny to be the one who might sort of kind of know some things about life. I didn't think I'd ever get here when I was a teenager. I thought I would completely fail at everything. It's weird hearing things like, "When I get married, I hope it's something like what you guys have. You have so much fun," directed at me. Sometimes I can't believe it's true either.

At work, we have the weirdest conversations in the lulls between appointments and downtimes. One of them arose from a very bold statement that they would never have buttsex ever. I had to let them in on a little secret about buttsex that I wish someone would've told me. If you're in a longterm relationship with a man, there will most likely be a war on your butthole. Even if you've never thought you would ever, ever, ever have buttsex, you might, after months and months and years of convincing (begging, bribes, back-rubs, jewelry), give in and that's ok. They're convinced, in their early twenty certainty, that they'll never let this happen to them. I'm just saying, the war on your butthole is real. They have nuclear weapons. Operation Butthole.

We obviously talk about sex a lot. They're like rabid sex beasts sometimes. I brought up vibrators the other day after hearing some questionable booty call plans. "Don't you have a vibrator?" I said. She replied, "I have a removable shower head." "That's not a vibrator." Ladies? Get a vibrator. Even if you think it's weird. Get one and just try it out. Just try it. A 24 year old should have a vibrator. You don't have to get the one that's shaped like a giant veiny penis with a scary wildlife creature perched atop it, just start out with a nice, safe bullet.

I also have to tell them when they're being stupid about animals. If you don't have a stable housing situation, you do not need to be taking care of an animal. You cannot hide an animal at your apartment. When they find out, what are you going to do? Move? Pay the pet deposit? Break you lease for some ungodly amount of money? Give it back? Think about these things before you get an animal, before you get another animal. Realize your limitations and be fair to that animal.

All in all, I don't know if I'll ever feel like I have anything figured out. It is nice to play the sage thirty year old some days. I do have some advice that I feel is important, I just hope I don't let it all go to my head and start a cult. Although, it would be a pretty awesome cult. Just saying.

Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 16:52:00 +0000

I'm thinking about doing Friday Pictures. We'll see how this goes.

I'm kittensitting on this kitten. It's fluffy.

Took it in the pool cos I know cats. But for reals, he does really well in the pool. You gotta expose them to all sorts of shit.

So many scarves, only one neck.

Friday Pants nap

I ALMOST TOUCHED A PRETTY DONKEY! (scenes from my walk)

I almost ran over this thing. Then we took it to a wildlife rehabilitator. It's a common Night Hawk. Kinda like a whippoorwill.

Played with the Cat Effects app. Like a boss.

Watch Party. Like a boss.

Annnnnd, close with a kitten in a basket.

P.S. I'm calling the cat Cheese.

Braided

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 14:33:00 +0000

Double Braid (Chuck's favorite)

My love affair with braids began when I found out my aunt could do French braids. As soon as she would arrive at our house, she had either me or my sister in her lap, one braid please! My mom could only do ponytails, pft. If my aunt wasn’t around, we’d make our hair stylist do a braid and wear the same one the whole week to school. Braids were a rare treat and something to be cherished.

Once my aunt taught me how to do braids, the world was my oyster. I would spend hours upon hours braiding the neighbor’s horse’s tail and mane. I did regular braids all down the mane. I did a modified, one-sided French braid down the mane. I did a French braid on his tail, even up by the poop-hole. I was a fearless goddess of horse braids. That horse was one sexy beast. I always say, anything you’d like to be good at, you must practice and horse hair was pretty perfect. He stayed still, he didn’t mind the brushing and combing and you could make it nice and tight, unlike Barbies that flopped around too much unless you held them down with your feet. I won’t even mention little sisters who screamed, wiggled and criticized your braiding technique, like she could do better.

Fishtail

I could even do my own hair. It’s a really easy way to deter boredom. If you prop your book open and up, you can French braid very easily, or you can practice while watching television, the possibilities are endless. At first my braids were basic and lumpy. I used to only feel comfortable wearing them to bed because they weren’t ready for public viewing but I got a I-don’t-care-what-you-think vaccine at around 21 and I’ve never looked back.

Game of Thrones

The recent resurgence of braids in pop (popular) culture has greatly pleased me. I can remember that one horrible movie with the guy they burned at the end where the all ladies society wore pretty braids in their hair and I immediately went home and copied them. They were in the very front and they were tiny. GOD, WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER THAT MOVIE!? Anywho, braids have re-cooled as of late and I couldn’t be happier about it. I’ve done a Katniss braid (from the movie, please-to-note that in the book she wears it in a plait down her back) and several Game of Throne inspired styles.

Katniss

What really re-lit my fire was YouTube (dot com). I started looking for videos with up-dos because I only wash my hair about once a week if that, which makes it perfect for holding braids and twists and shit. You don’t need all that texturizing stuff if you have your own head goo! I wear my hair down or mostly down right after I wash my hair and then I start wearing it up towards the end, about halfsie-halfsies. I love doing little braids in my bangs to hold the hair back when it’s all down. I usually did about half and half previously, so now it’s just segregated within the week, according to washings. If you search YouTube for up-dos, etc you will get as many hairstyles as you could ever want. I do practice styles while watching television every once in a while and then I add the new style to the rotation. It’s super happy fun times.

Pool Party

With swimming weather upon us, I learned a new thing Memorial Day weekend; wet pool hair looks a lot cuter when it’s braided! That right there is what you call a swimming pro-tip*, folks. You can also put some conditioner/oil in your hair to protect it from the chemicals before you braid it. I’ve been worried how my hair will deal with swimming and so far, so good with braids and protection (my scalp hasn't decided what it's going to do yet, but the hair is going swimmingly). Protection is very important, guys.

So, what braids are you doing this summer? Wanna come over for a pool party?**

*My hypothetical penis’ name, in case you didn’t know.

**Offer only applies to pre-qualified applicants and sexy ladies.

reaction

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 23 Mar 2012 11:33:00 +0000

I heard an interview this morning on NPR with the author, Raquel Jaramillo who wrote a book called Wonder under the pen name, R.J. Palacio. I haven’t read the book and I probably won’t, to be honest because I felt the views she expressed in her interview were misguided. She described being outside at an ice cream shop with her kids when a child with “a facial deformity” came up to them. She said her kid(s) said something embarrassing or wrong and they reacted in a way she didn’t like so, she quickly gathered her things and “ran away.” She said she felt so badly about that she started writing her book that night. I suggest it’s just a long apology. I really can’t imagine a worse reaction to the situation she described and definitely feel an apology is in order but what I hope for more is that she re-educated her children on a better way to react to someone different than them.

She sums up the book as a feel-good story because, “Auggie comes into their lives and they all become better for it. And they all rise to the occasion and become protective of him. He becomes part of their community.” You don’t want to protect him, his feelings and his right to be before knowing if he’s an asshole or not? I think she’s missing the boat on this one. She’s missing the fact that someone with a facial deformity is a person. Before you know them, before you know their story, before you decide if they’re worthy of your protection, they deserve your protection. What I'm suggesting is that the premise that a person must prove him or herself before being worthy of your esteem, acceptance or approval is faulty.

She does describe Auggie as wanting to feel ordinary and that kids in middle school turn into Lord of Flies, true and true but she’s just missing the point. Auggie could be a huge jerk who steps on the backs of people’s flip flops and that wouldn’t make him any less worthy than Suzie freckles who helps little old ladies cross the street. And by the by, where are these street crossing old ladies? I’ve been trying to help one for decades!

When I was three or four, I had a huge growth removed from my shoulder that had been present from six months old. When I was in middle school, the same growth came back further up my neck and had to be removed again. I grew up playing with a girl with polio. I was in a group in high school who would go on fun outings with the special ed high schoolers. You know what I wanted in middle school? You know what most kids want all throughout school? To feel liked to feel like they can just be themselves.

In pre-school, the growth and surgery weren’t that big of a deal, it felt more like everyone treating me like I was special. My teacher even had the same blood type as me and so I would’ve gotten her blood if I needed it. BLOOD FROM A TEACHER, AW YEAH! Teacher blood is totes cool in pre-school. However, when it came back in middle school, things were a little different. Middle school is the pits, dude. The absolute pits, for me at least. So when the growth came back, it was on my neck and was growing at an alarming rate about tennis ball sized and I couldn’t hide it that well. I remember so vividly being English class, wearing a turtleneck, and a “popularish” boy who sat in front of me asked me to “see it.” Being an accommodating sort of gal who can’t say no, I lowered my turtleneck. He reacted rather spectacularly and said something like, “Oh god! Gross! Eeeew!” and started laughing hysterically. I still feel ashamed I let him do that to me to this day.

I am usually also able to laugh when people are squicked out by my different colored eyes but I won’t say that I don’t have their reactions in my brain. The vast majority of people think it’s cool but some days they’re outweighed by the assholes.

Being physically different does not imbue the owner with magical niceness or overwhelming goodness or anything else special either. Sure, it can foster character building and give someone a look into being different if they have to wear an eye patch for a month, but being physically different from the norm is just normal. If you’re different, that’s your normal. You’re not different, you’re you. You know how you have a mole on your elbow and that famous actor lady doesn’t? That’s just normal.

We have such a narrow view of normal it seems to me. I obviously do not speak for anyone but myself and with only my experiences. I do try to be accepting of other people. I try to be accepting of their views and see their side, I try to accept that everyone’s physical being is different. There are small, barely noticeable differences in everyone alive and there are large differences as well. I try to treat everyone as just a person. To not treat them as the thing that makes them different. And to highlight the difference and “make it ok” because this particular person is cool missed the point, missed it entirely. Some people with physical differences are cool and some are assholes, just like you would think of any population.

this post is not about love

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 12:33:00 +0000

Chuck claims this was an "accident" when he gave it to me, but I know. It's love. True love.

I read the PostSecret blog every week and last week there was a secret about somebody in their 50s feeling trapped and wanting to start over "alone." It made me sad that they felt that way but it also made me sad for the people in this person’s life. I can understand if it were a 50 year old who was in a bad relationship and wanted to get out, but surely there’s somebody in this person’s life that they want to take with them. And if they’re in a stale marriage with someone they used to love but they feel like they need a change, why can’t they start over together? Why can’t they take an adventure? Why can’t they at least give it a shot first? shake things up. together.

I guess I’ve just seen a recent wave of 20 year marriages ending and they didn’t seem particularly “sick” or anything. They just sort of… Ended. *pfluh* I feel like there was just a loss of fun, a need for newness. I hope that when/if Chuck or I feel this way, we can talk about it. We can see that we can always grow and always change. It seems odd and “well, everyone thinks that until it’s them” of me, but I don’t really see divorce as an option. I just don’t. One of my college professors said something like, is it worth it to start over with someone else when everyone, you, me, her, him all do annoying little things? Everyone is annoying. Everyone will do things to annoy you. Is it really worth it to end a marriage because you’re sick of this one person when you’ll find a new person who does something else to annoy you? Maybe annoy is too simple a word but I feel like that’s sometimes what it comes down to. The next person may not leave toenail clippings in the bed but they might leave the air conditioning on full blast every time they drive your car (I hate that!).

And maybe it’s because I’m weak. In The Departed, Matt Damon’s character says, “If we're not going to make it, it's got to be you that gets out. I'm not capable… I'm fuckin' Irish, so I'll deal with something being wrong for the rest of my life.” And maybe it’s because he identifies that with being Irish* or maybe I’m just that stubborn anyway but I’m pretty much the same way. I stick with people. I won’t take abuse from you, but I will stick with you. I stick with my people until the end (that includes Pants and Scratchy). I certainly encourage growth and communication and compromise in any relationship. I won’t be a doormat (let’s not re-visit younger Becky, please) and I’m not advocating for anyone to be a doormat. I want everyone to be happy but I’m also loyal and I know there are good times and there are teh badz times. You just can’t be happy and just right and wonderful every second of every day and nobody will be able to do that for you either. I think we all need to be fair to you, to me, to your commitments. I certainly try to be.

I read an innocent comment on one of the social media sites those kids are frequenting lately from a woman who says she and her husband "never fight." Then a bunch of other people said they never fought either. I started thinking about my relationships. And thinking about what was wrong with me and basically if I should set everything on fire. I started into a downward spiral of evaluating my relationships (every single one, most non-romantic) and deciding that I might be a horrible person because I fight with every single person I know. I came to the conclusion that I don’t believe there is a relationship ever that has not contained one fight or we’re defining the word “fight” differently.

You’ve never disagreed with your husband in 10 years. Are both of you alive? Is one of you incapable of communication? Do you have several tumors filled with rage in your chest cavity???? I wish people wouldn’t say things like that. I really, super, really wish that people would think before saying, “I never fight with my husband” because YOU ARE FUCKING WITH MY BRAIN!!!

In six years of knowing Chuck we have had one million and seven fights. I’ve been counting. One million of the fights I have been right, 500,000 of them I have conceded he might have a point and the majority of them have been about stupid things. When I say the word “fight,” I mean we don’t agree. I don’t agree with a lot of people and I will tell them about it. I’m not a confrontational person but I argue a lot with everyone, even if it’s just teasey. I see most things from different points of view and I’m also very empathetic but I like to “discuss” things. I feel like it's healthy and lovely and a really good thing.

It drives me in-fucking-sane when people don’t communicate. You know Romeo and Juliet? I mean, not like personally, but the story? TOTAL BULLSHIT! Why can’t you motherfuckers talk to each other? Why can’t you make a goddamn plan together? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY SECRETS AND LIES??????

I think this is a big part of the reason I don’t dig the chick flicks. There’s always some sort of utterly, utterly tragic miscommunication that the whole fucking thing’s based upon and then they die or they’re magically happy. What the fuck ever. I’m serious. I’m not even joking. I DID NOT SEE TITANIC! That’s how serious I am. (This may or may not have anything to do with the current webarticle. How could I know, I didn’t see the goddamn movie.) (I’m just sayin.)

Guess what? I was the one who winked at Chuck on the dating site. That’s right. If you like a boy, tell the motherfucker. If you want the last piece of cake, eat that motherfucker. I say things. Not rude things or mean things but I say shit to people. Like right to their goddamn faces. Like I’m all like, “Hey! I have something to say to you!” and then I motherfucking say it. I just had to tell one of my employees to stop leaving scabs on the counter behind a community computer. I did it tactfully and not in front of people. Just laying it out there, “The products from your body stay on your body or they go in an appropriate receptacle.” It had to be done. And it did not need to be whispered about behind her back.

If you like mooning over a kid across the room for several years without doing anything, that’s your prerogative and my middle school years but it’s also your fault. He don’t know. He over there being all, “I’m hungry. I wish somebody would give me a blow jay later.” You know what? That somebody could be you! Take charge of your life.

Once I decided to just do me, I felt so free. What’s the worst that can happen? (probably you could die)

*some people are ir, I’m just a little Irish.

twenty twelve, get ready to be resolved

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:33:00 +0000

this is my pledge to you, becky.

1 blog more (on accounta i like it but i haven't been doing it)

2 give up sugar (i just need to fucking pull the fucking trigger already)

my dad's africa skulls

3 take fiber and vitamins every day.
am i old because i take so many vitamins or do i take so many vitamins because i'm old?

4 create more things (create all the things!)
4a learn to needlepoint again (brief introduction by my grandmother)

5 watch less tv (the mindless portion of tv, i'm keeping hank moody!)

6 prepare food in advance (weekend cooking)

this was from our light rail adventure! dahtahn dallas, baby!

7 go on more meandering, pointless walks

~~8 ride the light rail~~ (i put this in here because i've always wanted to be hip and ride the train to work and THEN chuck got a new job and he gets to ride the train to work and so we tested it out this past weekend)

i'm exhausted from all the resolving i'm doing right now

becky's feelings about babies, a history

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 12:33:00 +0000

two things: yes, the dog(s) watch us have sex and no, i will not throw them under the bus when (if) a baby comes out of my vagina. don't give me that look.

(to my knowledge, no babies were harmed in the process of making this drawing) (i did eat some baby carrots recently) (i feel that, however, is unrelated to this web article)

here is a thing for you. here are past things i did for you.

(click cartoon to embiggen)

this is the re-mix!!! spins dope records on those spinny things

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 12:33:00 +0000

i re-capped 2011 in my book* because, well, why the fuck not, amirite? no, but seriously, i wanted to kind of get a feel for the whole "shootin' match." (i've been watching too much anne burrell at lunch, clearly. goddamn lunch time television, is that all you have to offer??? assholes.) i thought i'd share it with you because i love re-caps for sures and good news, i hardly blogged at all this year, so most of this will be new to you! anywho, here's 2011 on your face.

*it's not a diary. it's a book of magical wonder.

january began with us coming back from an island vacation. it was pretty delicious and fun. my dad's mother becomes furiously angry with us for going without her even though she had decided she couldn't come due to health problems, etc, etc. my grandmother then proceeded to yell at my mother who was trying to show her pictures and tell her about the trip. not so great. we had to pretend like the trip never happened. it was the trip that must not be named. basically, we went to albania.

february was mostly wedding planning because, hey, i got married the next month and i hadn't planned it hardly at all. nor did i have a dress. this is mostly because i'm awesome at being prepared because i was a boyscout when i was a boy which was never in case you hadn't noticed. bazzzzzzing! this is also the second year we've been without my aunt mary on her birthday. it was mostly a nice february.

in march i got married on the 26th!!!! the beginning was so very stressful but it all worked out in the end because, obviously my name is now different.

april was the month of work clusterfuckage. two employees quit one right after the other. that's my entire staff, people. it super really sucked a whole bunch and i was a crazy person more so than usual. i even made a cartoon about it.

may was chuck's birthday month! that's all i remember because of work. i compartmentalize so i can think about work, work, work and then flip the home switch when i leave.

we swam a lot during june. it was the balls. pants the wonder dog was in pool heaven. it was still horrible at work but made less so by poolside drinks which makes everything better.

in july we went to north carolina for a chuckal family reunion. there were 30+ people packed into a 15 person house. you do the math. the answer is seven and it ain't pretty. it was overwhelming and sort of fun. i got to swim in the ocean and did not get to see any of the males in chuck's family's nipples because they all wore swimming shirts to swim in. then we cam home and swam in the pool with pants the wonder dog.

august was, ummmmm, still swimming. my grandmother headed up to montana for her yearly summer trip. we started planning a ski trip during xmas for montana as well. since last year went so poorly, i wanted to include her as much as possible.

we all know what september consisted of, becky's birthday month! no more swimming. wamp, waaaaaamp. chuck got me a waterproof camera for swimming pictures next year. BOOYEAH! at the end of the month, the dog i found for my brother escaped and died while visiting montana just a few months after finding a home with them.

in october my grandmother became ill with the flu and is admitted into the hospital in montana. she then needed to be medically transported back to texas and went into a re-hab facility because she was very weak. she became really scared we would to forget about her despite the fact that somebody from the family visited her most of the day starting with my dad at 6am and until she fell asleep.

november the saga continued and by thanksgiving, she was back in the hospital. i cooked thanksgiving dinner so she could eat something good in the hospital. it was the only thing she ate for days. my mom and dad ended up not doing anything for thanksgiving and the only time we saw each other was at the hospital. chuck and i forced my mom to hang out at the house for one afternoon after thanksgiving. my dad kept himself really busy at all times. we had some foundation shaking conversations. he felt powerless to help her when he couldn't fix everything. he kept saying, "i don't know what to do!" i tried to re-assure him that he was already doing everything to be done.

during her stay in the hospital, she would go in and out of awareness. up until this time, she had been very with it and able to make decisions and have conversations. she went downhill very quickly and became painful and dysphoric towards the end. it was very scary to be with her during this time because she could not get comfortable. i truly don't understand the care she was given in the hospital and the reasons why she wasn't made more comfortable. she was clearly having a reaction to morphine and needed to be switched and sedated during the switch.

on december first, my grandmother died. it came as a huge shock. she had been in and out of hospitals for years, she always bounced back. the doctors had not been very forthcoming with a clear prognosis. she was 88 years old, so i understand that there comes a time when there are too many things to take into account but they were very vague and let us draw our own incorrect conclusions. i'm disappointed with this, it gave us no time to prepare or come to terms with what was happening. she had requested for years that she wanted to die at home, so we transferred her to the house on that day. my dad had to spend that entire day trying to get a DNR order since she had never wanted one in the past (a whole 'nother story). they thought she might die on the ride home and would have had to been resuscitated if she hadn't been DNR. she died within 20 minutes of getting home. i didn't make it over there. my brother just barely made it to texas in time and only got to see her for the twenty minutes she was at home.

when i arrived, i spotted my dad inside the house (my grandmother's house is on their property, but up a hill). i went inside to tell him how sorry i was. i had to track him down in his bedroom because i think he was trying to hide. i really wanted to console him in some way but he wouldn't take the offered hug. i could tell he had been crying. he said, "bec, no. i- no. thanks, but no." i felt proud that i tried but my heart hurts for his self-imposed isolation. i don't know what else i could have done. later, i talked with my brother who said he had tried to hug my dad at his wedding and it had gone poorly. that made me smile but also makes me sad. i try not to make assumptions with my dad, even based on past events, i don't know how close he was to saying yes, so i guess i'll keep trying. i had xmas week off because we were all supposed to go skiing with my grandma in montana. it was a weird week. it was a weird month. it was full and empty at the same time.

january 2nd, 2012: i am at work with one of my favorite cats on my lap. i am ready for more life.

krusmuss

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 12:33:00 +0000

i lurve spahkly lights on trees. it's like MAAAAGICALNESS!

it's such a magical time of year. i love "the holidays" and look forward to them. we did santa claus growing up. it was amazing. and we would always get our tree at the very last minute. one year, we even got the tree on xmas eve. now that is dedicated procrastination. my mother, ladies and gentlemen. my mom grew up catholic and claims that has something to do with our last minute trees but she says that about a lot of things. she thinks i don't know anything about catholics. pffffffft, they're the ones with the pointy hats. our tree would sometimes have some small gifts under it prior to xmas, but in keeping with her deep seated, catholic procrastination, she would wrap presents all xmas eve night and the tree would go from "meh" to "HOLY SHIT, WHERE DID ALL THESE PRESENTS COME FROM IT WAS MAGICAL SANTA????" ain't nothin' wrong with that.

my awesome wreath, bitches!

as the years progressed, the tree and xmas morning went from magical santa magic to 10am xmas morning, "mom is STILL wrapping presents?" the magic was not as magical. i mainly think of xmas as a time of family togetherness and good food. i love the little ornaments that come out year after year with their histories and stories, i love the chance of snow, i love the relaxation and eggnog. it was still nice but not as nice.

i used to work at the emergency hospital and/or "do kennels"* during every major holiday because it gave me an excuse to leave my family for short periods and/or cut down on family time altogether. PLUS double time, bitches. holidays at work are either SUPER INSANELY BUSY or dead, dead, dead but they're always fun. and everyone who's at work is either really bitter and angry or giddy with holiday cheer and hopped up on the ubiquitous holiday treats littering every counter (guess which one i was???!?!?!?!). both of these stances provided ample entertainment to an industrious becky.

for a few years, this was all i needed. a nice, hefty dose of work family and a smidgen of family family. i truly loved it. i worked thanksgiving and christmas and new years and all the days around them. it was totally rad. those shifts were my new holiday magic. some days my feet hurt and my back hurt and i wouldn't be able to take a pee break for hours on end but goddammit, we had fun.

spahkly, frosty car windah

and then chuck happened. he is christmas. he is hopped up on christmas spirit. he snorts sugar cookies starting at the end of october. i soon found out, after our first christmas dating when he went to visit his dad and step-mom and i worked, he was disturbed at my lack of spirit. i continued to think i would be able to work on holidays but i soon realized that chuck's head would explode if christmas weren't given its proper due. i have to admit it was kind of nice to be able to enjoy it once again. he's reawakened the magic and for that, i will always be glad we found each other.

he makes me want to cook big, huge dinners and pumpkin logs and make ornaments and buy cool presents instead of token presents. he makes me want to have a tiny tree on our mantel and dream about when we'll be able to decorate a house with spahkly lights. he makes me feel fuzzy inside my heart part. it's rather disgusting. i'm like a goddamn monster however, chuck is worse. we should never forget that. i have rubbed off on him a little. this year, he couldn't get me to go presents shopping until two weeks ago, and we did it all online! last year, we were all done by thanksgiving.

unicorn necklace (dubiously related)

snowflake necklace

snowflakes on fingers! (and whiskers on kittens)

we even went to an honest to goodness ugly sweater xmas party. i didn't have an ugly sweater because chuck told me four hours before we were supposed to arrive, we were to attend but my vagina DID rip a hole in my jeans at some point during the party, so that was nice. i didn't even know it had happened until we were driving home and drunky chuck was all handsy while i was trying to drive a car with a large drunk man in the passenger seat. he reached over and was like, "there's a hole! in your jeans! look! i can put my finger in this hole! in your jeans! i wonder when that happened?" and then he only whispered for the rest of the drive. now that's some christmas spirit.

my vagina cannot be contained (and that's second time i've typed those words).

*that means going to walk/feed/medicate the animals

also, did i tell you i have a tumblr with all my instagram photos (examples above) and maybe some other stuffs? i do, you should check that shit out.

pudding, anyone?

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 12:33:00 +0000

here is a thing for you. here are past things i did for you.

(click to embiggen)

a call to action

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 11:33:00 +0000

the next installment of becky's drawrings, etc (check here for moresies).

(click to embiggen...)

don't be like albert ("a beggar") and try to find out too late!

three things...

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 11:33:00 +0000

this has nothing to do with anything but how could i go wrong? scratchy's wearing 3D glasses and a hand knitted scarf (my hands). she thought she'd wear the scarf in case the theater was chilly. she chills easily.

1) i'm terrified of posting about the wedding. i have a post almost done about planning as my original plan was three posts and i have the actual wedding post about halfway done, but every time i think about posting it, i get all stage frighty. what if you guys hate my dress? and think i'm ugly when i'm not holding the camera just so? what if you think my dress is stupid? what if i did something wrong? WHAT IF THE FLOWERS ARE SO LAST YEAR??? it's all very nerve wracking, quite frankly. also, i just had to sit through about 30 minutes of wedding pictures, an unauthorized wedding video by a chuck uncle and 20 more minutes of wedding pictures at the family reunion. my personal hell.

2) in the grocery store monday, i was shopping for oj, high pulp, in case you're wondering, and a gentleman about 10 feet from me asked the store in general, "if i were nail polish, where would i be?" i, being the savvy, focused and champion male ignoring shopper i am, ignored him (see how good i am?). i quickly forgot about the nail polishless gentleman in distress, absorbed in the countless oj choices arrayed before me and therefore, i did not notice him sneaking up on me until he was RIGHT THERE! and all, "do you know where the nail polish is?"

taken aback is what i was, but i managed to say, "um, nail polish?" to which he replied, "yeah. like, nail polish? *makes nail polish gesture* you know where that is?" as we were standing right by the only aisle in the store that i thought might contain nail polish, i pointed. so then he said, "oh, yeah, that's what i thought!" what the fuck, dude? you're not my husband and THIS IS NOT THE GODDAMN REFRIGERATOR!

3) i burned my finger last sunday because chuck didn't know to firmly seat the teapot's top so that it doesn't fall out. steam burns are not messing about, i'll tell you that right now. i had my hand in ice water for about 10 minutes while i was finishing things i was doing pre-steam burn and was in excruciating pain. then i remembered i should put honey on it because honey solves everything. so, i was finally sitting down with my pinky honeyed and saran wrapped, under a ziplock of ice, when i found a site on the internet talking about putting aluminum foil on a burn.

what the fuck, internet? why are you being an asshole while i'm in pain? is what i thought. however, after some research, aluminum foil fucking works. oh, internet, let's never fight again. apparently, the aluminum foil conducts heat away from the skin, genius! so i slapped some aluminum foil over my pinky and ring finger, very gently. i left the honey on because i figured that would cut down on some of the refraction and protect the burn at the same time. 10 minutes later, the pain was almost gone, 15 minutes later it was all gone. now, it wasn't a miracle, i still had to be careful of banging it on things (hee hee banging), but if i held still, no pain.

after the initial 15 minutes, i took off the foil to take out the dogs, it did start hurting a little bit, like when you take your burn out of the ice water but what i did, and what i should have done at the beginning, is take the foil and mold it around the unhurt pinky to make a more custom fit, then slipped it back on. yay! pinky costume! she's an astronaut! her dreams are realized! i finally took off the foil about 3-4 hours after the initial burn. it was still slightly tender but nothing like i'd been used to in the past and by the next day it's all blistered and gross, but it pretty much doesn't hurt at all.

now, the only thing i'm kinda pissed off about is how come i didn't know about this before? internet? i'm giving you the silent treatment!

family togetherness. no, closer. clooooooser. more close. ok, that's good.

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 11:33:00 +0000

i have a very small family. chuck has a large family. so, now i guess i have a huge family. i've always wanted cousins but with a long ago dead uncle and a childless aunt, all i had for cousins were dogs. not too shabby, as i found out this past week.

as a disclaimer and to make me feel nicer, i do really like his family as a whole. his mom's very nice, his sister and her family are neat-o and let's just not talk about his dad slash step-mom (yes, let's). everyone i met at the beach (his mother's family) was super nice and smiley. in fact, his cousin immediately commandeered my very heavy bag and lugged it up to first floor, waited while we said hi to everyone and then lugged it up to the top floor and to our room for me, and wouldn't take no for an answer. score!

it was nice to meet everyone but i was looking forward to settling in to our room after several sweaty hours traveling. did i tell you about our plane having a broken air conditioner and being stuck on the tarmac for 2 hours? oh, dude, it was tops! did you know that if the air conditioning is broken and then they fix it after an hour the maintenance crew still has to show up and sign off on it? nope, they can't just cancel it. checks and balances people, it's all a part of our fail proof methods here at the airport!

anywho, as soon as we closed our door, no less than five (5) people came and knocked on the motherfucker. seriously? SERIOUSLY? oh, yeah, they were serious. seriously nosy. then, came the next little shock. they don't swim on sunday. like, they don't go into the water at all. when chuck asked if we could go in, his mother said, "NO!" small pause while she tries to soften her curt answer, "if you go, then all the little kids will want to go and they won't understand...." cuz that's what you're sposed to at the beach. children's logic, infallible.

hokay, no swimming at 4pm on a sunday for us. lest we incite the children. nobody cared about the fact that we were sweaty and in close proximity to a large body of water that might aid in our de-sweatage. fine, maybe we'll just leisurely change and relax on the bed for a few minutes. every time i would take an item of clothing off, another person would knock on the door. someone knocked on the door while i was peeing. different people.

sniff, sniff, no pants here.

when we finally changed, we went down the stairs to the living area, to a whole lotta people. in the living area, there were three couches and behind that, there was a poorly designed medium sized kitchen with a large table and a large island with bar chairs around it. i found out that originally there were supposed to be 16 people going to the beach but in the end, 30+ people had decided to come. so, we're at 200% capacity. sounds like the perfect situation for a sober INFJ. nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. "oh, we can walk on the beach on sunday? LET'S DO IT!" i love walking on the beach.

luckily, i brought my kindle loaded with a saucy paranormal romance series recommended by lusty reader (she's a good recommender. she read ender's game at my behest and plus this sexy series is fucking addicting). funny story, chuck read a saucy page on the plane and he said, "you better not read those around the children!" cocks are an important part of our youth's education. and honestly? i'd rather have my child read a saucy book than watch a scary tv show, just for the record. prudes.

consequently, i spent most of the week hiding behind my kindle and not making eye contact with anyone. works at starbucks, works with family reunions. did you know chuck and i got into an argument about whether i could bring a "real" book too? he said, "that's why we got the kindle, becky!" and i said, "what if the motherfucker breaks and we get stuck on a deserted island?????" "i will take you to buy a book if it breaks, or you can have mine!" he replied. "THERE ARE NO BOOKS ON A DESERTED ISLAND, CHUCK!" this is a very real fear for me. i need a book, at least one, just in case technology fails. i can always calm myself by saying that i could read it over and over and over. then we could turn the book into a play... the possibilities are endless.

beachy dressy shirt! yay!

anywho, the house to human ratio was super whacked. i could not sit and read anywhere inside except in our room. if i vacated my seat for any length of time, a person would take my place. there were ELEVEN children there and mostly under five. they dominated the only television with a wii. yeah, #mouthgun. there were a lot of cute kids there too. i like kids. i like making friends with them but it was just a leettle overwhelming. so, other than eating (and defending my gluten free drawer), we outside or in our room. i brought my sunhat and my sunglasses and i was still pretty stoked.

most days were pretty chill and pretty relaxing. chuck ended up getting sick starting on thursday because one of the families had brought a lovely cold. he was miserable the rest of the time pretty much. poor kid. i was bragging the whole time that i wasn't going to get sick because of my fabulous immune system but... i just got it the day after we arrived home.

i also got to go out on his uncle's sailboat! i have some serious war wounds from the sailboat. we couldn't get it past the waves and i cut my wrist and both elbows. i don't know if it was the waves getting it out there or what but halfway through the ride, we had to switch sides and i almost lost my cookies. i have never been seasick in my entire life. for some reason, i was super embarrassed about it. i've been on small sailboats, big sailboats, canoes, row boats, kayaks, speed boats and just about every water craft imaginable and i've never gotten seasick. stupid stomach.

we got to see a loggerhead turtle and a ton of jellyfish and oh, i don't know other stuff. no mermaids though. mostly i was excited about the turtle. a sea turtle!! i've never seen a sea turtle in the sea! we also saw two sea turtle nests. if we had seen the babeh turties i would have died from happiness right there but they weren't ready yet. stupid babehs, y you no hatchies?

overall, it was a good trip. i can see why chuck hasn't been in 15 years and while it might not scare me off for another 15, i might need to take a few years off and make sure we get a larger house next time. better yet, we'll get our own place and bring pants and scratchy. i missed them more than they missed me because my mom took care of them really well but they would love the beach.

edited to add: and for the record, i wore the bikini. regardless of the fact that EVEN THE BOYS had their nipples and betty buttons covered, like as in, they were wearing those surfy bathing suity shirts, with board shorts. yeah.

crazy dog lady speaks about bathing suits! extra! extra!

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 23:33:00 +0000

...the thing i forget in my awesome list of problems is, "NO SWEARS!" it's gonna be an awesome vacation. no, but it will be fun. i'll swear in my head. and on twitter. but i will not drink because i'm pretty sure people will be able to smell my booze breath or i'll think they're smelling it and become paranoid. quick! somebody should lend me some "medications." anywho, here's the video i made you.

poorly drawn cartoons make you forget i've been gone

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 11:33:00 +0000

the next installment of becky's drawrings, etc (check here for moresies). this is what i've been doing when i haven't been doing this. i'm not going to jinx myself by saying that i'll do schmedding posts next but i might be working on them WITH PICTURES!

also, instagram! join it and show me your pictures!! do it!

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i'm un-leaving-you-hanging

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Sat, 30 Apr 2011 02:09:00 +0000

i wanted to update everyone because my last post happened then i kinda disappeared. here are some lovely bullet points for you to read...

so, after several phone calls, emails and a couple of yelling phone calls, nothing happened officially. i am livid. i have kept in constant contact with my niece, however, so i hope i can keep that avenue of communication open. she seems like she's doing ok and i will keep suggesting therapy but i guess that's all i can do for now. we're also going on a trip with them this summer, so maybe i can have a face-to-face chat that will finally be able to put my mind at ease.

i'm having work turmoil, so i'm kinda, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! and when i say "kinda" i really mean super because the whole thing is making me want to set work in general on fire.

i cleaned the dogs' teeth, so they don't smell! wheeeee!

i finally got a new computer after two months and I'M USING IT TO MAKE THESE WORDS YOU ARE READING RIGHT NOW! i'm also blundering around on this thing called a mac that i have no idea how to use yet.

my evil grandmama, is in the hospital. i must stop calling her evil in case something bad happens because then i'd feel guilty.

my brother went on vacation to a foreign country and didn't tell me. i'm still kinda sore about it.

i'm still addicted to instagram but now i'm having doubts that people really want to see millions of pictures of clouds.

chuck has returned his wedding ring FOUR times for different widths and different sizes and EACH TIME!!! i've had to send it registered mail. AND EACH TIME!!!! something has been wrong according to the various postal workers.

i spent the entire day changing my name to chuck's last name. it was sort of exciting but mostly i want to kill all bureaucrats. why do they have to be so rude and have hairy moles on their lips? (it was right on her bottom lip and it wiggled when she talked and she had cut the hair that was growing out of it because it was short and not wispy)

i can't even see straight

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 11:33:00 +0000

i will get back to the wedding posts, there will be pictures, i super promise but i've been de-railed and this is all i can think about.

my niece was sexually assaulted in a high school corridor. i feel so helpless and i don't know what to do. i don't want to step on the toes of her mother or her grandmother or her step-father but i feel like they're handling it all wrong. everything is wrong.

here's what happened: a male, who also goes to the same high school, came up to her and grabbed her breast and stuck his hand down her pants. that's sexual assault and if he had punched her in the face, he would have been expelled, but as it stands right now, the school is "looking into it" and "seeing if they need to involve the police." according to third hand information, this person has done something similar in the past to another girl as well.

everyone is dragging their feet. there has been some talk of the fact that they're friends and that maybe she wasn't so innocent in all of this, she might have "done something to make it happen." she has even said that she still wants to be friends with this person and so they shouldn't make a big deal of it, now days after the fact and after no obvious action has been taken by anybody. i can feel that the longer this drags out, everyone involved will be talked into giving themselves permission to let it drop. her family, her support group, is letting go of it. it's already happening despite what chuck or i say.

it's causing me a great deal of pain and i just don't know what to do. i want to start kicking asses but i can't. i want to make her school see what they've done is wrong, but i can't. i want to be her super cool aunt, but i can't. the only way i can think to do anything is to write her an email, hope her mother doesn't see it and get offended, hope she responds and takes me at my word that i won't be a spy or judge her or make her do anything. i want to help, i want to make it right, i want to tell her that she's not alone and that i would do anything for her. i want her to know that she might be feeling like it would be better for this to all go away but that she needs to talk to someone at the very least. she needs to protect herself. she needs to rebuild the part of her that's been damaged. i want to tell her, no matter what she said, did, or wore, if she didn't give him permission to touch her, he was wrong. he was wrong.

her support group, by their inaction, are saying things to her on a loud speaker. maybe she did deserve this. maybe she should be friends with him. maybe, the next time something like this happens, she shouldn't say anything at all. maybe.

when i was molested at a young age, i told absolutely nobody. i didn't even tell my mother until earlier this year. that's over twenty years of silence. i'm really impressed that she went home to tell her mother. i'm really proud that she was strong enough to do that. i don't want her to think that she was wrong. the latest thing i've heard is that maybe she only said something for the attention she's getting. again, my heart breaks into a million pieces. again and again and again.

i know, i can only say what i'd do and backseat drive this whole thing but i am dying for this kid. so, i need your help. i've sent her an email telling her if she ever, ever needs me i'm here, day or night but i feel like it's not enough, and i'm afraid i might get a phone call in the middle of the night but it will only be after something much worse has happened. what else should i do? i know that some of you are parents and some of you have been through similar things and i know you have great advice. what am i not seeing through my panic? i want to talk about it because nobody else wants to talk about it with me.

...the end of the never ending wedding dress story (or is it?) (it is)

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 11:33:00 +0000

i just got married, bitches! that's what's up! this is part three of the wedding dress saga, you can see part one here and part two here, if you need to catch up. don't worry, the wedding series will continue because, i'm milking this wedding for all it's worth because, if you can't tell, that's what i've been doing instead of blogging for the past six months. BOOYEAH! also, i like to give my readership what they want: all becky's boring life, all the time. (say that in a gravely announcer voice) (also use that voice to read the title again) (it was pretty great, right?) speaking of which, i made you a true faq page, see that? just right up there? yep! that's it!

i got to see sunsets on the way to shirley's and twitter/facebook did too. (i think they really liked it)

we left off on friday night, a week and a day before the wedding, i arrived at shirley's at 6:30pm, she had a bodice, made with the real fabric.... with no sleeves. ugh, i can't even tell you how demoralizing it is to try on a part of a bodice one week and a day before the wedding. at first i loved it because, yay! the fabric that i loved! wheee! but the joy was short lived when i put it on and realized how far we had to go. however, i was still feeling pretty good because we were making progress.

i sat in a hard folding chair for hours, intermittently trying on the vest, as i started calling it in my mind and saving her 5 month old puppy from ingesting straight pins and beads and sequins. i also spent about an hour on the floor trying to get a picture of the puppy and i'll tell you what, goddamn puppies and too goddamn movey, jerks. i finally had to resort to treats because, goddamn! it was not the most fun i've had, in fact, it was made even more awkward because her boyfriend was there as well. they really liked to talk about each other to me while the other one was gone. they've also ruined the endearment, "babe," because they liked to use it judiciously in conversation and it made me want to shoot myself in the face. this is a dramatic recreation of a real conversation they had when i arrived friday.

"can you go down and get my stuff from the car, babe?" shirley pleaded. "ugh, i was just down there, babe! alright, fine, babe, what do you need?" steven replied. "just the stuff on the seat, babe!" so, steve goes down to her car and brings some stuff back up. "thanks, babe! ooooh, baaaaabe, where's my sewing kit?" shirley whines. steven responded, "babe! you didn't say the sewing kit!" "babe! why would you not get my sewing kit, babe? that's the one thing i needed, babe! babe, please! go! get! it!" and as soon as steve exits the door and shirley reassures herself that he's gone, she starts in complaining about him, "goddd!!!!! he's so lazy! can you believe that? he's so lazy! i swear, he's raising his son to be lazy too, you should see it! god, so lazy! i'm so not that lazy. how can he be so lazy???" until babe, i mean, steve gets back, "thanks, babe!" whispers to me, "see what i mean? sooooo lazy!" then she goes over and gives him a smooch.

the beast

she talked so much every time i was with her, i really didn't even have to talk at all. score one for me! because talking to people i don't know is yucky as we previously found out previously (it's called crippling social anxiety, bitches). she told me stories about steve, where she grew up, the fact that steve has a futon for a bed instead of real bed, that she accidentally had her car towed when she accidentally parked in a handicap place and accidentally forgot about it, that steve bought her the puppy because she was joking about wanting a dog but she really didn't really want a dog, that she was trying to lose weight all the time and she had lost some and would i like to see her fat picture? and here it is against your will, LOOK AT IT! and wasn't i so fat and now i still have weight to lose but at least i'm not as fat as that fat picture,* did you know that these popsicles only have 60 calories?

as you might be able to tell, this weekend was one of the most stressful weekends i've had, in recent memory. i coped with the stress by making faces and taking pictures of my faces and then instragraming the hell out of them. this is where my instagram obsession began. at the next instagram anonymous meeting i go to, i think i'd like to explore this further. oh, and also, my obsession with clouds has never this bad.

the fitting was very tedious and very long and i was wearing one of those smoothing bodysuit things so everything was squeezey. at eleven in the evening, we decided to call it a night. she was going to working on the lining and get the collar put on. i was really excited to see the collar as that was my favorite part of the design. we walked out together because the puppy had to make a tinkle, i said goodbye to shirley with a hug (initiated by her because.... hugging is also kind of yucky with people i don't know, i just powered through it though because i'm a trooper) and walked to my car.
um, *stops in front of huge truck that's in the place where my leetle truck had been parked* ...that's not my truck. um, where did i park? um, did i move my car? MY TRUCK IS GONE??!?!?! *zooms up and down the area where my truck was parked* *again* *again* *again* *AGAIN*

that's snarling, clouds, suspicious spot and ... crazy.

i finally let it sink in that my truck was gone. gone, gone, gone. at eleven o'clock on friday night, a week and an hour from my wedding day, my car was gone and i wasn't going home to take off these goddamn squeezey clothes. motherfucker. after i thoroughly convinced myself that it was gone and that i wasn't just missing an entire truck in the smallish parking area, i went back to find shirley. she was still walking puppy outside, so i said, "um, shirley??" in a cracky, panicked voice. she replied, "becky? what's up?" i said, "um, do they... tow cars here?" the next part was a little blurred in my memory but steve came down and we walked with the puppy to the sign that they both knew was there after they repeatedly said, "towing doesn't start till midnight! they told me midnight!" she had never once told me that they actually towed cars there or that they HAD BOTH HAD CARS TOWED OUT OF THE PARKING LOT! in fact, she had told me to park where i parked.

she called the number on the towing sign and found that my car had just been towed and they were taking it 45ish minutes away (while i was already about 30 minutes away from my house). she ended the conversation with, "FINE! thank you for being no! help! at! all!" [angry touch screen hang-up, which is the same as regular touch screen hang-up] all i could think was, they have my car, you yelled at them and they have my car! she then called her apartment manager which was also kind of a red flag for me because who has their apartment manager in their phone? weird, right? suspicious, if you ask me. she talked to the apartment manager and found out they put the new towing time in the newsletter, "the newsletter! the newsletter! i don't read the newsletter! STEVE! do you read the newsletter? steve doesn't read the newsletter either, janice! my friend is here and i'm making her a dress! and it's a WEEK before her wedding! and she does NOT need this!" at least we agreed on one thing. she hung up the phone with the understanding that janice would be calling the towing company to tell them that they should give me half off then she says, "well, do you guys want to go back up because i'm getting eaten by mosquitoes!" we trek upstairs to wait. shirley goes back to doing something on the dress and i go back to texting with chuck.

"so, is chuck going to come get you?" shirley asks. i mentally shake myself to understand what she's asking and what she's implying. "i- i have to go get my car?" i manage to get out. "oh, i thought you'd just go get it in the morning!" she says brightly. "i have to work in the morning," i say while realizing she's trying to get out of having to take me to the towing place because she's already been there and knows how far away it is and it's after eleven o-fucking-clock in the evening. this is where steve chimes in and i could totally give him a handy for saying this, "shirley, if she's going to give her a discount on the towing, we need to go get it tonight," he said in a tone that implied that he knew what she was trying to do. "oh," shirley says with a concerned look on her face, "well, do you want us to take you?" and so they did, she made him go too, of course. i finally arrived back home at two in the morning, refreshed and ready to hop up and go to work the next morning.
after work, which just happened to include a very rare saturday emergency surgery, i went home to change and shower off the blood slash guts and headed once again over to shirley's. there was no real mention of the unpleasantness from the night before and i even had to stop and look for a longer zipper and more thread because she was out. i'm pretty sure she knew there was basically nothing i could do at this point, a week before the wedding. we tried on the bodice again and even added sleeves! yay for sleeves! this fitting was pretty short because she had to add the sleeves with their lining and the lace. i cut out my pockets with her horrible, dull scissors and that made me excited as well. after a final sleeve try-on, i was free to leave and the next day, would have sleeves and an attached skirt to look forward to!

sunday, six days before the wedding, i once again arrived later in the evening, i had set my phone alarm to go off at 9:30pm so that i could save myself from another tow charge. fool me twice, as the saying goes. she wasn't ready for me to try the dress on yet, so i sat down to wait and showed her the shoes because, hello? best shoes ever! as i was sitting back down again, there was a knock on the door. i looked at shirley, who could it be? i think she knew but she said she didn't know. i said, "should i get the door?" because she was working and didn't seem to be moving. she said, "sure." i looked out the peep-hole to see two youngish girls with backpacks and described them to shirley, "oh, that must be the traveling teachers," she says, "you can let them in," with a sigh. it turned out the ladies were from her mormon church and they were coming to.... dunno, get her to come back? i didn't really ask. they stood awkwardly, while she continued to sit on the floor, cutting the hem. they finally sunk down in front of her because they weren't offered chairs and they, apparently, weren't leaving either. i sat back down and pretended to have important things to do on my important iphone. one of the girls had said she loved my shoes on the way in, so i felt a little sorry for them but, hey, they were talking to shirley and so i didn't have to anymore.

when she finally finished cutting the hem, i wanted a tea length dress, just below my calves, we stood up to try the almost completed dress on so that we could check the length. how it went from just a bodice with an almost sleeve to an almost dress, overnight, i don't know, but i wasn't going to ask for details. i slipped into it and it felt ok. it felt like everything was working. after the previous two days, i had made sure to do my make-up and my hair so that i wouldn't be discouraged in anyway. i walked out of the bathroom and the two girls made exclamtions of delight for the dress and the maker of the dress and the shoes. i had to walk across her apartment to the full length mirror and i was just crossing my fingers that i wouldn't hate it. i'm so glad that i prepared and remembered the shoes/hair/make-up because when i finally, finally, finally, stepped in front of the mirror, i loved it and for the first time in about a week i was able to take a deep breath. traveling mormon ladies are my lucky charm from now on. all that was left was to stich the hem and i got to leave shirley very quickly because of my lucky mormons, not even any huggies, yay!

for the final fitting, on monday night, my mom was to accompany me along with our longtime friend, who was also to be the officiant, carol. i was so glad carol had arrived because i knew she would dial back the stress my mother was feeling as she's not very well equipped to deal with stress in a healthy manner. coughcoughiwantedtopunchhercough. she proved her worth on the way to the fitting when i'd realized i forgot my engagement ring in my car. i had been putting on lotion and stowed the ring in my sunvisor so i wouldn't forget it but when they arrived to pick me up, it slipped my mind. when i gasped, carol asked me what was wrong, i told her and she was ready to turn aound right there. my mother, on the other hand was very reluctant and tried to guilt me into saying it was fine i had left it, i was hesitant but willing to just worry for the rest of the night because i had no control over the car. carol said, "would it make you feel better to go get it?" "...yes," i said, "it's just... you know, in the middle of that parking lot and who knows when we'll get back? chuck would be upset if it was stolen." understatement of the year.

even though i could tell my mother was a little eyerolly about it, i felt so much better knowing it wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting for a lucky person to steal the right car or just the contents of it. i was a little skittish about cars in general after my friday experience. we were early anyway and only halfway there but my mother said she'd drop us off at shirley's and then go get my ring. i texted shirley to let her know we'd be early because my entourage was a little jumpy. we showed up about 20 minutes early and it was clear that we'd be waiting for a long time, she had to hand stich the entire hem before it would be done but then it would be done and i would be free, freeeeeeeeeeeee! carol and i sat down on the couch, to wait. she later told me that she had decided we must sit and wait and watch or it would never be done. she decided we weren't leaving without the completed dress, she was ready to dig in, as it were. her excuse was that she didn't realize that the particular tape she had gotten needed to be handstiched and unless we wanted the hem to have machine stiching showing..... anyone? no? then she'd have to hand stitch it. you better get to stiching, bitch...ing. (rhymies! yay!)

the front of the dress (i can't give it all away, i have more posts to do!)

my mother made it back and we all decided that we (and by we i mean, carol and the mother) needed something to eat or we might faint. we left shirley to her stiching and left for about an hour. it was sort of relaxing to wander aimlessly up and down the aisles in the store with carol. my mom, bustling ahead, on some sort of mission, paid us no attention except to occasionally call back to tell carol to get something to eat. by about 9:30pm, armed with our visitor parking pass, that i think shirley had all along but never offered me, we were back at shirley's who was still hand stiching. as the ladies settled in to eating and talking, i settled into to pacing and wondering if the dress would be awful and i would hate it and why had i done such a thing? then she was done...

and i was in the dress and i loved it. we loved it. the shoes loved it. now, what jewelry should i wear? just kidding, i ordered earrings that never arrived!

alright, since you were so good.

*an aside about "fat pictures:" [deep breath] a)i do not want to see your "fat picture," b)you have a bad picture of yourself with bad lighting/weird facial angles/bad hair/weird smile/something else unrelated to your weight, i guess that's great, c)my response will always be something positive about the picture, in this instance i said, "ooo, festive sweater!" d)just throw your "fat picture" away because you're damaging yourself and your children e)AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! "fat pictures" make me want to kill EVERYBODY! f)these are making less and less sense, g)in conclusion, if you'd like to have a reminder/motivation/whatever for yourself in your wallet, do yourself a favor and make it positive, h)if you need help getting a good picture, i would be more than willing to help you, because you're beautiful, everyone has bad pictures.

wedding dress saga II, it just got personal....

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 11:33:00 +0000

i just got married! and now i'm doing a wedding series, this is part two of the wedding dress saga, you can see part one here. i know, i know, i should have done these as they were happening, right? yeah, as you might be able to tell, i was fucking busy! and my fucking laptop died! and gah, just get off my back, you guys! in related news... anyone wanna send me a new laptop for a wedding gifty? do you want to be my favorite ever? dooooo you????

the wedding fabric, duh

once we had nixxed curly and the asian, (sounds like a racist 50s cartoon, eh? wait, is the 50s when people were racist against everybody? that's right, right?) we had to find a new seamstress. i started making inquiries half heartedly, with my broken fashion spirit. in typical, becky style, i just kinda ignored everything until someone said they might know someone who knew someone who made christmas dresses for her daughters. meh, i'll try it. the emailing commenced and she said she would do it and that we should meet to get fabric. chuck assured me that if his cousin had recommended her and if she was a mormon, we would be in good hands.

we met at a halfway point in between the huge fabric stores and our houses. the seamstress, shirley, came with her sister, janelle in a large SUV, thirty minutes late. shirley said, "i'll drive!" and we all piled in. i'm used to people being late because it's a trait that runs in my family, so i wasn't too worried about the time. my mother, on the other hand did mention it and i reminded her that she had no room to talk. in fact, i will also point out that when i called her, 15 minutes after we were supposed to meet, she answered the phone, "what's up?" what. is. up. and i answered, "you're fucking late, that's what's up!! what's up? WHAT'S UP?? what's up, indeed." i mean, really. she does have a point in that we were the customers in this situation, so it'd probably be more acceptable for us to be late than the seamstress but still, i would have simply hated waiting by myself with a chick i didn't know for 15 minutes. yuck.

on the road to the fabric store, we found out that shirley is what's usually termed, an "aggressive driver," but what we later converted to, "inattentive," "reckless" and "thank god we're still alive, becky!" kinda driver. she was chatting with her sister in rapid fire sister talk, then she'd turn around and ask a question, then she'd change the song on the radio with her iphone then she'd show us pictures of the dresses she'd made for her daughters, then she'd tell us several stories about her daughters, then she'd say something weird to her sister, then she'd swerve out of a lane and slam on her brakes and then accelerate up to 70 mph.

i also have to tell you, while fully admitting that i'm not the cleanest person alive, that shirley's car is the dirtiest car i have ever, ever ridden in, in my life. it wasn't, cluttered, it was filty, every surface of the car was covered in stains but the car was completely empty otherwise. it was like she had an ice cream party in the back with 20 six year olds. or maybe a crack party with seven crack whores. or perhaps a flock of 42 seagulls had been locked in her car overnight and she just never bothered to clean up after them. ooooo! maybe it was a cock fight. who knows? not me, that's for sure. i can only make wild speculations for your amusement. we did end up making it to the fabric store alive and with only minor damages to my psyche. WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BACK OF THAT CAR??? sometimes i still have nightmares.

we tootled around the fabric store looking at fabrics and then looking at fabrics in the natural light next to the window by the multicolored spandex. of course, i had to fall in love with the one satin cutout lace that only had 1 and 1/2 yards left. ugh, not enough for the pattern. shirley says to ask if they can order more. she seems unconcerned that we'll have to wait and i trust her to know the amount of time she needs to complete the dress, so we left the store empty handed.

over the next few weeks, shirley was busy or she "had her girls" or she was unreachable. as the wedding drew nearer, my mother became more nervous and i became more hidey about the dress. i finally sent shirley a heartfelt email asking if she could please reassure me that everything would be done in time for me to actually have the dress at the wedding. this was on february 17th. 37 days before my wedding. we still had no fabric. no fabric with which to make a wedding dress. so far, all we had was a dream and a pattern (that i wanted to make changes to).

on the 26th of february, we went down to the fabric store yet again and everything seemed to fall into place. my mother drove this time, when we arrived, the perfect fabrics were waiting for us. no compromises, no rushed choices, everything was simple and easy. we breezed in and out and i felt a renewed sense of ease. aaaah, it would be alright. on the way home, shirley told us that she would do a mock-up in muslin and probably call me the next day to do the initial fitting, that way we could get started cutting out the real fabric. she did not call the next day. she did not call until the next thursday to set up an appointment for friday and that was only because i had texted her a few times.

friday, march 10th, 2011, the MOCK bodice, made of muslin is now finished, i am to try it on that night. this is 16 days before the wedding. on friday, she tells me that we'll have to push it off until saturday. i arrive on saturday and we try on the bodice and make some adjustments, she then tells me she'll re-cut out the pattern to make it longer for my height and my boobs (they always mess everything up). i went on some errands around her house and come back to try on the mock bodice again. everything seems to fit well, she says she'll start working with the real fabric and call me tomorrow. can you even guess what happens???

...the next weekend i am sort of beginning to kinda maybe freak out. one week and a day before the wedding. one. week. i'm beginning to think this was the stupidest idea i've ever had but for some reason, i make no back-up plans, i make no mad scrambles for something different. for some reason, i still know that the dress will be done. i think it's my background as a professional procrastinator, i can recognize a procrastinator when i see one and i know, we procrastinators might scare everyone but we get the job done.