i'll go eat worms

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!

(clicky to embiggen...)

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.

the dress: a never ending story

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 11:33:00 +0000

i'm going to do a wedding series, you guys. if that sounds boring and awful and why would i do such a thing? to you then i suggest you checkout now. in fact, why don't you just save everyone the trouble and stop being such an asshole. gah! this is part one of the dress saga. i can't decide if there will be two parts or three.... omg, i know you're so excited!

i wanted a dress with sleeves. i wanted one with sleeves because i wanted it. and, more importantly, i didn't want to go into one of those bridal boutiques that are staffed with angry, judgmental, hawk like women who cause me to vomit in fear at the mere mention of setting foot inside. plus, they don't stock sleeves. plus, it's scary. plus, i had to go inside one for my brother's wedding because i was a bride's maid and i'm still recovering. plus, it's my day goddammit, and if i wanted to spend $5,000 on a dress, i at least want a dozen fawning gay men to pick it out for me and there are no gay wedding boutiques in the area. fucking chains and their refusal to staff their shops with the appropriate people.

so i did the next best thing and had it made. or so i thought. my mother had asked her friends and had been directed to a seamstress who had done "several plays." now, i know that i probably should have been alarmed at this statement but, i was at the very beginning stages of planning and i was trying to be open to possibilities. i mean, they do elaborate plays with fancy dresses, right? i'm sure there had been some wedding dresses as well. she'd also been in business for 20 years, so i figured that was a good recommendation.

when we arrived for "the fitting," i was excited. i had a whole portfolio: sketches, three pictures of example dresses, and a written description. i was ready. we walked in the door, there was a row of tables with sewing machines lined up against one wall, an older lady with her hair in perfectly arranged rows of curls, just like my grandmother used to wear her hair, was working on a wedding dress, adding beads, i think, a large policeman in a tiny chair and an older asian lady working on a pair of policeman pants. my mother said hello to curly and then waved while saying hello to the seamstress who's name was pat. then my mom said why we were there and that she had called previously to see if she might be able to do my wedding dress within our time period. she also, for good measure, mentioned that she knew one of pat's most trusted and adored customers, her friend jean. the seamstress, without looking up from her policeman pants said, "you come back later!"

as my mom's face fell, curly said, "where do you all live?" in a sickly sweet voice, laced with malice. my mother replied that we lived about 20 minutes away and if she knew when pat might be available later. "20 minutes," we were told, "do we have any errands to run?" i doubted, whether in 20 minutes, we would exactly be a top priority, but as it was early on in our seamstress-amateur dress wearer relationship, i figured we could go get coffee and forgive the abrupt dismissal. i also had a sneaking suspicion that my mother hadn't really "made an appointment," if you know what i mean and i mean my mom's notorious for "thinking things will work out" and "being late to everything" and "knowing really great coffee places" and "buying my coffee." therefore, i was game.

we arrived, once again, at the shop. i knew my initial impression was that i didn't like curly but i couldn't exactly put my finger on why. i knew something bad would happen, i just didn't know when. she was a snake in the grass and not in a sexy way, in a i-will-stab-you-in-the-back-and-you-won't-know-who-it-was-until-she-flips-you-over-with-her-steel-toed-boot-to-watch-you-die sort of way. my guard was up. once we ascertained that, in fact, pat would take on my dress, we began the measuring portion of the torture. pat measured here and there and here and then there while curly was writing down the measurements and then began making comments, "wait, where did you just measure? are you sure that one was right? that one seems waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too small! why don't you measure again." as i lay, dying on the floor from my stab wound, i took solace in the fact that i had been correct in my judgments of curly. she was a snake and a jerk and i hoped she would be constipated for a month.

due to loss of blood, i don't remember much of the rest of the appointment but we left with the understanding that pat would look through her books and order the base of dress, whatever that meant. it seemed like it would work and pat seemed confident that she would be able to make me the dress i wanted. [pregnant pause] nothing fell into place. as it turned out, pat just kept making excuses and sending us away and finally telling us to go to, *cough, hack, gag, dry heave, watery eyes* that place that shall remain nameless, the voldemort of bridal boutiques, to get a dress that she could "fix." after overturning the checkers game i was playing, hurling several large ice cubes at the tiles in the shower and yelling at the top of my voice, i moved on.... and good riddance. *petooey!*

ahhhh, i feel better. i have my blue shoes after all and we all know how awesome my blue shoes are and how much we all love them. i could wear anything with the blue shoes and it would be fabulous. in fact, i have several dresses that could be spruced up by blue shoes. i could wear this one! or this one! or this one! it must be whitish, you say? well, i'm a new, modern bride. rules and traditions be damned! oh, the pictures? you mean they can't just take pictures of my feet? sigh, fine. i guess i want pictures. for the children. WHY WON'T ANYONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN????

the moment we fell in love. <3

would you like to donate $1 to help legless, orphaned albino elephants in ethiopia?

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 12:33:00 +0000

"no, i wouldn't!" i always reply with a smile. my smile only falters when the uppity, self-righteous checkout lady gives me the death stare. in those few moments of silence, i can feel the judgement. i can see her taking out her mental list entitled, "people who i would not piss on if they were on fire in the street," alternate title, "people to kill later," alternate title, "people who i will never 'forget' to scan something for," alternate title, "people who have the STDs, probably."

regardless, i always say no. it's one of my policies. it is a righteous crusade i have taken unto myself in the name of righteousness. it is my cross to bear and i bear it with no complaint, except for this whole thing i'm doing now. heh. THOSE GIVE A DOLLAR THINGS MAKE ME INSANE WITH RAGE!

you're checking out at the grocery store, so what, you might buy a slab of $10 cheese, who gives a doodle, there might be a bottle of fancy blackberry jam in there with the fancy ribbon tied around the top, who cares, that you might have indulged this one time in a special gluten free muffin that might cost 20 bajillion dollars but no, no i will not give one measly dollar to help those GODDAMN, MOTHERFUCKING ELEPHANTS! DO YOU HEAR ME???? GODDAMMIT I HATE ELEPHANTS SO MUCH!!!*

here's the thing, if we take, at face value, that even 30% of that money will help elephants, fine, maybe i'll consider it but, i don't believe that any of that money is getting to poor, legless gertrude, i believe she's slithering around, indignant that little suzie-checks-a-lot, is even suggesting that i, as the turner downer of all check-out donations, am neglecting her care. gertrude, no doubt, has become jaded toward the campaigns held in her name, as have i and has realized that the supermarket conspiracy is trying to pull the wool over our eyes but lucky for me i have an anti-wool clause in my spy code that makes it nearly impossible to pull any wool-like substance over my eyes. try me.

you failed, as i knew you would. i win again, wool! ahahahahahahahahaha... we're old pals, wool and i, he makes me itchy, i burn him alive in my fiery, fire of righteousness, but i do like sheep, go figure. it's a crazy, mixed up world we live in, amiright?**

here's the other thing, i help animals. i help animals two four seven, three six five, motherfucker. there's no need to ask me to pay a dollar to help gertrude, i've already changed her diaper this morning. twice.*** so, before you go looking at me like i'm a heartless asshole, think about what you've actually done. have you just given people looks? yeah, that ain't no shit. do something. this also goes for those little girls collecting money for tiny tobacco addicted orphans and don't even get me started on animal rescues that are funding heart surgeries on chameleons or the outlawing of all pet animals. don't. fucking. do it.

*i don't really hate elephants. that was an example of transferred aggression (from those thieving supermarkets to poor, legless gertrude) (gertrude and i have never been stronger) (no, really, we're renewing our vows next winter) (it's going to be glorious).
**i'm always right.
***i've never changed an elephant's diaper but don't think i wouldn't do it. i don't live in ethiopia, that's the first problem.

as an aside, i've done a header for j-town over at the yellow factor. you should check it out because it's sure to amaze you. it might also make you nauseous but that's still pretty amazing, right? warning: image may contain brief amounts of beardface, rainbows and mild violence. viewer discretion is advised.

grizzly bear, unicorn, rainbow

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 15 Feb 2011 12:33:00 +0000

as you might be able to tell by now, i've gone completely and utterly insane. also, i got some new shiny cardboard. we bought sheets. if that doesn't make sense, i'll let you know that when you buy sheets they put shiny cardboard in there to keep the bed bugs from biting. or something. no, i'm pretty sure that's it. you don't need to google or wikipedia that at all because I DID ALL THE RESEARCH FOR YOU! now that's full service, if you know what i mean and i mean, blow jays. also, look! new buttons down there! push them or something! (now *that's* full service!) (reoawr)

(click to embiggen)

anywho, i maded you a new header. i made it up real good. it's a nature scene i came upon in nature. a beautiful unicorn, called stu, who just killed a ferocious grizzly bear (barry). now, for our younger readers, we could say barry's sleeping but that would be a lie because he's actually dead, which is a long sleep that you never wake-up from and worms eat your eyeballs out and that's where your grandmother is too!

so stu killed barry and now he's going to frolic around the body under the rainbow while being careful not to step in the corn filled poop that's under there. you'll also note, that at the end of the rainbow, there's only me. because i'm so awesome. also, i stole all the gold and made best friendsies with the leprechaun. yay! happy ending! except for barry. because barry's dead. (with your grandmother) (it's ok, i can say that, because my grandmother's dead too!) (but she wasn't killed by a unicorn) (wouldn't that've been cool though?) (i mean, if i had another grandmother....) (no, that thought was too far) (but in all fairness, the living grandmother i have is a HUGE asshole) (you 'member that time i made a joke about dead puppies and everyone hated me? good times) (that might be happening again, eh?) (never learn you lesson do ya, eh?) (eeeeeh?)

ps thank you to that punk keepingyouawake for his help. what a punk.

shocky foxy

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 14:22:00 +0000

memes that involve handwriting MUST be done. they simply must. don't even think- they simply must! you know how i feel about handwriting (more handy writing heresies). you know. so, when j-train, over at the yella facta, tagged me in a handwriting meme, you can imagine what happened (this).

i'm gonna get in trouble if i don't put instructions so here:
1. What's your name/your Blogger name?
2. What's your blog's name/URL?
3. Write "the quick fox jumps over the lazy dog".
4. Favorite quote?
5. Your Favorite song?
6. Your favorite band/singers?
7. Anything else you want to say?
8. Tag 3-5 other people.

and for clarification i tagged:
nikki.
beans.
vegetable.
andy.
keepingyouawake.

and YOU! huh? you wanna do it? do it! tell me, i'll add you to the list. aaaa! i love handwriting and it makes me want to go, "aaaaaaaaaaa! handwriting!!!"

if you do it i'll give you a picture of a penguin tooting.... ok fine, i'll give it to you anyway, i'm so lovely and nice. you can blame this on keepingyouawake as well. damn him! and his crazy, penguin related questions!

unicorns win but you already knew that (in your heart)

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 20:04:00 +0000

pegasus vs unicorn: who's cool and who's dead?

inspired by this tweet.

this sounded better in my head.

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 12:33:00 +0000

i woke up recently, remembering a totally plausible and unexciting dream, with no multiple layers. this made me super angry at leonardo dicaprio. then i thought about how funny i am and who should i tell that i was angry at leonardo dicaprio for giving me false impressions about how real people dream. and then i told chuck and he was all, "wait, you dreamed your boss was being a douche? that's news?" he didn't laugh or anything.

i'm glad i have you. yes, you, there, in the hat? and you, the one with the boogers. and you, the one who tells the funniest stories. and YOU the one i always @ on twitter but you never @ back, stop that! @ me, god damn you! and you, the one who tells me my new hair cut is super cute even though it looks exactly the same. and you, the one who texts me texts about stuff. and even you, my creepy twitter friend with the wildly inappropriate DMs that i pretend i never got about my boobs (stop doing that). also, you, my gchat pal who always knows the answers to the questions. but mostly, all of you.

i can always count on internet to think i'm funny, to answer my emails, to tell me to stop calling my sister a whore, to call my sister an extra, super whore, to always be there. i think about the friends i have, the friends who have deleted me off facebook because they were "cleaning their feed" or because their husband feels uncomfortable with me or because we don't work together anymore. these are real people who've looked in my eyes, told me secrets, kept some of mine. i know that life gets in the way and the internet isn't perfect. i have way more internet friends than friends who i've been close enough to punch in face (that's my new code for IRL) (sounds better, right?) which ups the odds of somebody responding to me, but my punch-in-the-face friends (PINFFs) never really "get" me.* i sometimes say things like, "yeah.... it was funny if you were there," a lot while in conversation with PINFFs. or sometimes, i'll just say things to myself like, "nobody gets your funny, becky but you are funny, don't you worry." *pats becky's shoulder, reassuringly*

for instance, i told somebody to write down that i administered a medication UTB the other day and she actually wrote UTB on a chart which is marvelous but wholly pretend and totally misses the point, that UTB means up the butt (according to yours truly). she saw me give it rectally and yet, she still just wrote UTB and didn't even laugh or anything. if you have to explain UTB to somebody it totally ruins the point unless they're like, "UT- waaaaait a minute. what's that? up the- what?" and then i would get to wear my mischievous smile while they were figuring it out. i love dusting off my mischievous smile. i'm doing it right now.

that's why i love to give you presents and love getting presents from you. in that spirit, i received a gift from a becky who is the beckiest becky i've ever beckied and it lends itself to photography. therefore, i wanted to give all of you guys, my guyses, a few silly pictures that i know you'll get. gettit?

*i'm excluding chuck from this because he totally gets me. if by "gets me" you mean, sex and i don't because i really mean, funny. (but also sex)

i'm back. well, actually, i've been back but not air quotes back.

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 12:33:00 +0000

As I survey my vast empire of beach glass, tiny shells, sand particles and weird hamburger nuts* before me, I realize I’m lucky to be alive in this time of plenty. I don’t remember if I told you, but we went on a tropical vacation for xmas. While I’m never opposed to vacationing on the beach it really didn’t seem like xmas. No cold, no chance, however slight, of snow, no xmas tree, no stockings, no presents at all because who’s gonna bring presents on the plane?

And yet, I couldn’t be happier with the whole situation. As much as chuck is the carrier of my xmas spirit, I am not that stoked about childrenless xmas. If there’s a child involved, that’s fun but when it’s only us? We’re all just like, happy xmas…. Um, yeah. Chuck, on the other hand is very pro-xmas. He’s super put out if I suggest anything less than an all out extravaganza, if his father’s house is any indication, that’s where he gets it from. A thirty three year old man getting as many presents as I got when I was seven, all along with rules and “no, you open your present now!” and “did you tell them thank you?”

We finally arrived on a Tuesday. I’d felt out of touch with reality ever since I had to send off phoney. It seems like it’d been weeks since I’d been online. This side of the trip I felt like I would go crazy without my constant contact to twitter, et al. I didn’t know how I would ever survive without… wait, a minute! We’re here??? Zomg! The beach! The sea! What’s an iphone? I hate iphones, I hate twitter, I hate the internet! And that was my werewolf like transformation from the becky you see before you, back into retro becky. The becky who’d LIVED!

After running around the beach, then immediately changing into our bathing suits (c’mon, c’mon hurry the fuck up, you lollygagger!) and dragging chuck to the end of the bay and making him touch the wall at the end of the bay and walking in the surf and then walking to the tide pools and making chuck say nice things about the tide pools and seeing my friend Henry and then introducing Henry to chuck and then introducing chuck to our other friends and then showing chuck the entire house… I took a deep breath. I was back and had brought chuck and now he had a background for all my many stories.

We swam and I remembered just how salty sea water is, for the millionth time, it’s really freaking salty. It’s like so salty that it almost can’t even be in the same category as water. We snorkeled and saw two small sting rays, a porcupine fish, tons of sea urchins, sand dollars and tiny flashy fish. Chuck has apparently researched and found that sea urchins eat coral and in most places destroy it, therefore, he feels justified in popping them open and letting all the small fish congregate and feast on the sea urchin insides. It was cool and gross at the same time. One day we swam out to a small island while snorkeling. It had a little beach and cool trees and everything. When we got to the island, the water was very shallow so that our ears were out of the water. Chuck and I began speaking snorkel to each other about all the things we were seeing. “ook ah isss!” “ee hould awk ah isss ah uh eiym!” “eh! eh! ah ah oo isssng?” I thought it was hysterically funny, chuck decided, after 15 solid minutes that snorkel was not as funny as he had previously thought. I can make anything too much. We ate jerk chicken for lunch.

On xmas eve my friend MaryAnn, took us to check out the closest town. Apparently, their shops stay open way far into the night on xmas eve and we had to check it out. Our cab driver, David, had driven us the day before to go snorkeling and had driven at a reasonable speed to get us there and back but tonight, he drove like we might be escaping an assassination attempt. The thing you have to understand about the roads, though, is that there are small stretches of smooth and then the rest of the road is comprised of potholes. We’d be barreling along at high speeds then David would slam on the brakes and come to a complete stop and traverse the pothole very slowly OR we’d be barreling along and David would swing the bus into oncoming traffic before swerving back into our lane moments before a head-on collision. It was a good thing the speakers of the bus were pumping out religious music at high volumes because blurting out, “JESUS CHRIST!” probably would have been frowned upon otherwise. The thing is, I would have gladly closed my eyes and come to grips with my immanent demise but I also get car sick on those bumpy roads and so I had to keep my eyes fixed on our route for fear of puking all over everything. Just as “my saucer runneth over because my cup is full,” came on, everyone began to sing along, me included even though I’d never heard it before.

When we arrived in town, we staggered out of the bus and were immediately set upon buy many people trying to sell us many things. Chuck is entirely too nice and I suppose, coming from a different place than I do (my place is the place where everyone is trying to pull me into cars and kill me. Repeatedly.) so, he was trying to explain to the man who was asking him to buy something that, in fact, he didn’t want to buy anything. I on the other hand knew that sometimes salesmen will take nothing short of a direct snub to release us from their clutches so MaryAnn and I walked right past saying “no, no, no…”

The town was packed. We could hardly move once we got to the market. People were selling on every available inch of horizontal property. They had food and shoes and clothes and shower curtains and artificial flower arrangements and “what do you want to buy, becky?” “um, I do need postcards!” So we made our way to the back of the inside market to a lonely purveyor of souvenirs. The people in town were locals, this guy was playing with his cell phone when we arrived because he had nothing much to do. “How many postcards do you need?” he said lazily. “Um, like 20?” I replied. His eyes widened slightly, he gave me a small stack and said he’d track down more. We made our tourist purchases and then MaryAnn was back on the hunt. She showed us the entire market and when it was about midnight I could tell we were holding her back. I had asked her earlier when she was going into town and she said that if she were just going, she’d leave at midnight and come home at 5am but since we were coming, we could go in early and leave when we wanted. Even though I felt woefully inadequate, I decided to call it a night and let her get her party on. Never mind that she’s ten years older than me.

David arrived at the petrol station with his bus packed to the brim. Chuck got to sit up front and I squished beside four people on the front bench seat. We waved goodbye to MaryAnn and we were off at high velocity once again. We made about four stops before finally arriving home. The drive home was, I’m sure, at the same speed but felt a lot more manageable. Maybe the greater number of people in the car gave us a more solid footing.

My sister arrived the next day along with my brother’s wife. They didn’t arrive with the rest of us because of work or some sort of US thing. I never understood those silly Americans being so concerned about work. I mean, us Caribbean peoples need to relax and sun and swim in the ocean. They ruined everything. I always try to be cool with my sister but then she starts, like talking and stuff and I just… can’t. So, for the first ten minutes, we were bestest friends just as I’d planned but then she started saying literally five times in each sentence and I murdered her. She actually said literally twice in one sentence and that’s not even jokies. That’s the real, honest to goodness, truth. Twice in one sentence.

The next day she started talking about all her genius millionaire friends who were just “sooooo smart. Like, so smart that I haven’t even ever met anyone that smart. I mean, like they can play like two chess boards at one time. Like at the same time. I mean, they’re, like so smart!” In an effort to become smarter, she stole the trivial pursuit game we brought and was trying to memorize all the answers to the questions. She had learned that simply memorizing things was an excellent exercise for your brain. I told her that she was banned from playing where, “hey! Guess what? We actually ask each other the questions and you actually make guesses and have some sort of context and discussion about the answers and therefore have a reference in your head as opposed to trying to memorize them like a fucking weirdo.” I don’t think she caught that last part, however because she immediately asked me what meconium was instead of trying to defend herself. She now knows all about baby poop.

She also decided, based on a book she’d just begun reading that she would try to become ambidextrous. An ambitious goal indeed, she can go on and on about the benefits of switching hands and making your brain think and that she was the only one who had ever thought of this because she read this book that nobody had ever read. I didn’t point out to her that my right hand was out of commission while it was healing from going through a window and I had to do everything with my left hand for quite some time and that my brother used both hands in sports. I try not to correct her because she knows everything about everything and could probably refute any conflicting information I might have. I mainly stick with writing passive aggressive blog posts about her and then occasionally having large blow out fights with her. It’s working really well.

My brother’s wife’s mother was also quite the character. She decided on the second night that she hated her bed and would sleep on the couch which was right outside our bedroom. She went to bed early every night, which was fine until we wanted to hang out on the couch and there she was, sleeping. Or that one time that we were making strange/sexy noises that I remembered she was out there and got all blushy. She was obsessed with the street dogs and was always trying to get me to diagnose their maladies. I could rattle them all off by the time she got there already because… I… was not obsessed, it was professional interest. She also took the island men rather seriously. It’s not a day on the island without one of them asking to marry you. My friend Henry thinks of us as family but that didn’t stop him from asking her to marry him in a playful manner. after thinking about it for a few moments, while the conversation moved on without her, she said, “I would never marry you because my husband (who’s now deceased) had something you’ll never have, a J-O-B!” everyone fell silent. Henry has a beach side restaurant. we all sort of ignore her rude outburst and move on again. Henry turned to his other side to talk to somebody else. so that was awkward.

The Caribbean is the best. I would be happy to sit all day on the beach and read. I would be happy to walk on the sand every morning and let the waves crash around my head. I would be happy to listen to the waves lull me to sleep every night. The best part about the trip was that, for a brief moment, it seemed like my grandpa had maybe just left the room. My friend Henry knew him really well and his memories are clear and bright. For a moment, when he acted out my grandpa stretching before his daily beach walks I saw him. He was there with us. He had just left.

It was so hard to leave. But then again, my puppies were at home and I was very ready to get them back for extra super snuggles. I’m not gonna even go into the trip home because if I did, I’d have to reveal that chuck was super cranky and I almost had to knock him out and carry him home instead of listening to him, but I would never do that because I’m good at keeping secrets.

*they're these little nut things that look like hamburgers. They do not taste like hamburgers. They’re from the mucuna vine, apparently. And I guess they're not nuts but beans. Whatever, science, please don't ruin my childhood.

sticks are very important for beach walks

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 29 Dec 2010 12:33:00 +0000

i'm on vacation. you should send me an email to make me smile when i get back (my "vacation responder" might be on and it might be hilarious and you might get a surprise offer as well) (romeofoxtrotmike, at the gmail, with the dot, com). as your blog reward, i will reward you with cute, old pictures of me. i'm on the same caribbean island. i am incommunicado from everything. i am allergic to figs.

i love this picture but i'm sad i'm wearing a silly hat. my mother was always making me put hats on because i have the skin of a salamander but i have the heart of a ... crab? they're good in the sun, right? oo! a snake! i'm a sun basker at heart. i like to bask, stupid skin be damned!

dressing up in dresses

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 12:33:00 +0000

i am famous for my multiple outfit changes during childhood and especially in jamaica. i decided last sunday, when i was changing into my third outfit of the day, that i might not have lost that particular trait. what? the weather was all changey and i like to look nice when i leave the house but then i like to be comfortable when i'm in the house. i'm a classy chameleon is what i am.

aquatic adventure team

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Wed, 22 Dec 2010 12:33:00 +0000

we are ready. ready for any sort of aquatic adventure you could ever dream up.

long walks on the beach

noreply@blogger.com (mylittlebecky) — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 12:33:00 +0000

my most favorite grandpa ever. this must have been one of the first years we went down. we're taking a leisurely stroll right in front of the house. my grandpa is SO cute.