Guest post by Weis : Bike ride

Yesterday, I decided to go on a bike ride.


I put on the bike rack, threw on some thermals because it was cold, packed up the rest of my crap and drove to riverside. I parked at my friend, Kevin’s house. Unfortunately he was not home and my water bottles were locked inside his house. I shrugged it off, jumped on the bike and headed off.



It was much colder than I expected and my fingers were freezing. I missed the usual road I take through a park so I took the next one. This one had a big concrete curb, which popped my tire when I hit it. Not a huge deal. I have all the stuff I need to fix a flat. I stopped and went to work.



The cold ass rubber was not very pliable at all. Getting the tire off was a lot harder than normal. My headphone wires kept getting caught on what I was doing.. I slung them behind my neck and kept working. Finally I got the blasted tire off and pumped a little air into the tube to find the leak. My lousy stinking generic pump was not working. I tried many different configurations to no avail.



Some old dude stopped by and offered to let me use his pump. Finally I gave up and accepted his offer. I gathered up all my crap and prepared to carry my bike to his house when he spotted a little piece of plastic. It was the missing piece of the pump! I then unpacked all my crap and got back to it.



I was unable to locate the hole, though I heard it leaking. I started walking towards some water so I could submerge it. On the way over, I felt it hitting me in the face.. I found the hole! I feverishly cleaned and scraped the area surrounding the puncture and put on one of my little patches. I put the tire back on the rim and started pumping it up.



Lo and behold, it was still leaking!! The patch did not stay on or something. I decided to forget about patching it and use my extra tube. I pulled out the extra tube, removed the tire once again and then put it back on. I pumped up the tire, which took about 20 minutes with my crappy microscopic pump. FINALLY I was done with this ordeal.



As I was looking around on the ground to make sure I got all my tools and crap, I saw part of my destroyed headphones. Wonderful! I tossed the busted earbuds on the ground and took off. It seemed as though I had spent an hour fixing my dumb tire. I was only about 1 mile into a 15 mile bike ride. I was too cold and I had no music. I decided to just give up on the whole thing. I doubled back, dropped off my bike and headed to the YMCA to get a shower and change.



What a frustrating hellride it was.
--

Kindest Regards,
Wesley Black
Fuel Multimedia
FuelMultimedia.com

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I shall post latah today peeps!

Guest post by Kim

Hi ya'll ,

I truly have nothing to post about. I am just a nervous wreck, getting ready to go.
Tonight Floozie 2 and Nosey are taking me out for my last hoo rah....dinner and a movie. I shall post about that tomorrow.

So for today, here is a guest post from My friend Kim. Her blog is Pooty on the Futon.WE have known each other since we were 12 years old.

This is not a festive post...just so ya know. But it is a reminder that some people are walking around with some very big hurts.

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November 30th :Pooty on the Futon

I have been in a daze since Nov. 6, 1985...
Unable to eloquently relay my pain in any verbal manner,than to be understood.

His first word was "elgra" and he never moved his lips...we laughed and laughed at his ventriloquist act, he was only 9 months old. It was, after all his first word.
"elgra"...(sigh)

Soon after,the word "mom" was there, to the joy and inner warmth that only your child's first word can bring.

Unaware that those were all his lips would say.

I would get up in the middle of the night to change and feed him, watching him drink his bottle, he would hold it with one hand and gently caress his own forhead with the back of his other. I couldn't stop watching him, the joy mixed with awe, welling up inside of me, like helium blows up a circus balloon, stretching to the point of tight shiny color, smiling brightly against the bright blue sky...the future was wide open.
One night, I was following our middle of the night routine, but I was overcome with this "feeling", a voice shouting in my head "Leave!" "Run naked out the front door to anywhere!" "Go!!!"...I was stopped dead by this, but thought it may have been the remnants of a nightmare, and shrugged it off, not having been introduced to whom I would find out later was my "little voice".
I stayed where I was and Tye was in intensive care one week later...
His diagnose..."grave"
I read it on his clipboard, the one that was beside his bed, on a nail, on the wall.
I swear he could hear me...I would say his name, speak words of love, say nursery rhymes, all the while his heart rate would fluctuate wildly, that being the only reaction, due to the fact he was on a ventilator and his eyes were taped closed, I would apply a salve of lemon and glycerine to his tounge so it wouldnt get dry and crack, he didn't move, but his heart rate...
I just knew he was going to come out of this and we would all be so happy and relieved, everything was going to be o.k.,
I was so naive.
First of all, who could EVER hurt an infant, especially a father of three, not in my world, no one I knew,
Accidents happen...
Don't they?

The pediatric forensic findings spoke of the contrary...
Proof in black and white, with photos to illustrate the findings,

beyond a reasonable doubt,
death by the hand of another.

Murder.

"It cant be!"
I remember thinking, my naive mentality being my enemy.

My world crashed down on me like a tsunami.
Misery, being my roommate, my bed partner, my shadow, for the next three years.

I will never have the memory of his first steps.
My family an I will never have the memory of his first birthday party...

The tooth fairy.
The first day of Kindergarten.
Having to let him go on his own for the first time, like a big boy.

Kissing his tears away and bandaging up his first "boo,boo" with a "Snoopy" bandage.

Hearing about his first crush.

Listening to his sorrows on his first broken heart, and saying those perfect words that make the pain go away.

We will never know those moments.
They were stolen.

I remember singing the old nursery rhyme "Jack and Jill", at his bedside, the realization of what that song was really saying..."Jack fell down , and broke his crown", "and Jill came tumbling after..."

Nursery rhymes were so morbid.

They were so true.

He had a skull fracture.
"He broke his crown"

And "Jill came tumbling after..."
It took painfully long for me to accept the reality of the whole situation.
It divided me from my family,
I was unable to convey my feelings,
I was unable to comprehend my feelings,
I was in an emotional coma.

My daughter saved me in 1989, by honoring me with the privilege of being her mother.
6:36 am Mothers Day.
The clouds lifted that day...
But I sometimes find myself thinking...

Kara will never know her brother,
they will never argue, over silly things
like frogs are cooler than flowers,
or something like that.

We were robbed.

We will never know his first prom,
We will never know teaching him to drive.
We will never know his high school graduation.
I will never know the grandchildren.

I waited for it to go away, the pain.
Only to accept the fact that it will always be there, we grow everyday with the knowledge that not only the life but the LOSS of a life stays with you
forever
and how you hold it inside has everything to do with your survival,
your emotional health,

The way you view the world.

The way you handle the world.

Day in day out,

You need to be there for the ones who ARE there.

They need you for the kind words,
because they got their heart broken.
They need that word of encouragement,
because they don't look like the other girls.

Because they are unique, exquisite and individual, and your baby girl.
All grown up.

Time has slowly sped bye, but sometimes it feels like yesterday...

The man who snuffed out the light that was Tye, comes up for parole, rehabilitated (supposedly).
Once there is the ability to act out such an act as to take the life of a helpless infant what kind of "rehabilitation" is there?

We are left to live with it,
he should be left to live with it, too.
Where he is,
so no one else could fall prey
giving trust where none is due,

The hole that was left,
never healing,

some days better than others.

Growing, emotionally, every day.
The process, never ending.

Knowing that the day I die will be the day I will see him again.

I can wait, for the living need me more.
I need them more.

It's nice to be needed.

No, there is nothing more wonderful than being needed.
It's a responsibility that is givin once, and you need to do your best, because you cant go back and do it over, again and that is what they will remember, mistakes or not,
it's the effort,
it's BEING there for the living...

Sure, a part of all of us died with my son that night,
but a bigger part of us survived.

That is the "Mom" that I am today.

The "Grampa" that my Dad is today.

The "Aunt" that my sister is today.

The "Family" that WE are today.

We are all doing time.
He needs to be doing time ,too.

I wasn't trying to make you feel sad, it happens...

Sorrow is a part of life,
just don't let it consume you.

He will have killed you, too.

Thats how I get through this,

day in, day out.

Life is Good.
It's how you deal with the lows and survive.

God doesn't give you more than you can handle.

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Big hugs to my friend.(she's the blond one in the pic) I hope the bastard NEVER gets out of jail.

Love me

Part 2 :Weis's trip to the big Apple

I didn’t have a chance to consult with Bonnie on this.. So there may be some inaccuracies.

Saturday:

From the couch I can hear Ramya mulling about all morning. Each time, I just roll over and go back to sleep. I notice that Bonnie is trying to sleep in as well. She’s bouncing from the bed to the love seat and back, trying to avoid the clamber created by Ramya’s morning routine and phone calls. Finally, ten o’clock rolls around and we both reluctantly get up. Today is Saturday and tonight is the Buck 65 concert. Our plan is to go on a tour of the Brooklyn Brewery. I have no problem deciding which of my one pair of shorts to wear. The 3 pairs of jeans that I brought are likely going to sit in my suitcase the whole trip!

After lazying about for an hour or so, we have to head out so Bonnie can go to the bank before they close. First order of business is coffee! There’s a very conveniently located Starbucks less than a block away. We walk to Starbucks and then a couple blocks to her bank. After that, we descend into the subway station and head for Brooklyn. We arrive at the brewery and purchase a couple of beer tokens. I notice that the guy at the counter is munching gingerly on some strange looking chips. They’re guacamole flavored tortilla chips.. Hmmm. At the bar, I order a beer with my token and a bag of those mysterious chips. Surprisingly, the chips are pretty good. It’s probably well past 2pm and we’re both pretty hungry. The picnic tables we were waiting at were littered with carryout menus from local pizza joints. A nearby table’s delivery has just arrived. We weigh the pros and cons of the various pizza joints and decide on a true victor. The plan is to go there after the tour and satiate our growing hunger.

The tour begins and we are lead into the next room of the warehouse where there are various giant containers. The overly energetic girl gives us the rundown on the company history. She tells us about the founders, about the brewing process and about the variety of brews. It’s fairly interesting, but Bonnie is disappointed because the “tour” pretty much entirely takes place in a single room. I think perhaps our hunger made us into a rather fickle audience.

By now dying of starvation, we leave the brewery in search of the pizza joint. Being the big music dorks that we are, there’s no way we could resist the tiny record store as we passed by. We stepped in just to take a “quick look.” After we both scour through every single used cd they have in the store, we decide on a couple of purchases each and are back on our way. By this time, the beers at the brewery have made it into our bladders and the urge to urinate is actually surpassing the desire to eat.

We poke our heads into various restaurants that don’t appear to have bathrooms. Finally we duck into a bar and feel obligated to validate our bathroom use with a beer each. Despite the heavy foot traffic outside the front door, this place is a ghost town. The only other patron leaves shortly after we belly up. The bartender is friendly and the music they are playing is decent. The men’s room is pretty atrocious, but does have plenty of soap and paper towels. What more can you ask for? Bonnie and I are quite pleased with this place. There’s a photo of the bar on the wall from what appears to be the 1920’s. After taking our respective trips to the restrooms, the bartender asks us if we want the free pizza that our beer purchase entitles us to. We’re still set on the pizza joint that emerged victorious during our comparison at the brewery, so we decline.

After a little bit of deliberation it seems that something terrible might happen to us if we turn down free pizza. After all, we are both working on rapidly diminishing budgets and we’re starving! We reconsider the bartenders offer and anxiously await our frizza!! About 15 minutes later, she brings out two 8 inch pizzas baked just for us, still the bar’s ONLY patrons.

The free pizza is the nail in the coffin. Charleston Bar & Grill is our favorite place in Brooklyn. We decide that it should definitely become a tradition henceforth. Finally, we pry our fingers from the edge of the bar and head out the door. Full of cheer and no longer hungry, we descend into the subway station. Curiously, this one lacks the stifling heat shared by most other stations. There is a strange bearded fellow strumming merrily on his guitar and humming lyrics that neither of us could quite make out. There is no rotting flesh, body odor or feces aromas assaulting our noses. Much like Charleston Bar and Grill, there is something magical about this place. Our train pulls up and we hop on, both of us still gaping in awe.

Halfway home, we have to switch trains. It’s obvious that the magic of Brooklyn has been left behind us. We’re now waiting in a very crowded subway station. This crowded hellhole is equipped with the aforementioned stifling heat, it is devoid of music and worst of all it is bursting at the seams with the powerful smell of feces! The scent literally drains the color from our faces. It’s atrocious! The seconds tick away like hours as we pray that every arriving train is ours! Eureka! The number 3 arrives and we board as quickly as possible. There’s nowhere to sit on this crowded ass train, but it’s still quite a welcome escape from the giant toilet we were just trapped in.

We finally arrive on Manhattan’s Upper West Side and make our way to Ramya’s Apartment. We lounge about for a while telling her stories about the fairytale we had experienced in Brooklyn. Bonnie and I convince Ramya to join us at the Buck 65 concert. She purchases tickets for herself as well as Al, her boyfriend and Danielle, neither of which have arrived yet.

The plan is to go to another vegetarian restaurant located in Chinatown, which is near the Knitting Factory, which is where the concert is. Al arrives and Bonnie and Ramya continue getting ready. I’m on the verge of passing out again on the couch. I decide to get my arse up and be social. Al is a 32 year old, black computer guy with a great sense of humor. It’s nice to have another guy around in this ocean of girlies. I have already been subjected to numerous episodes of 90210 (both the old and new version) and now I have somebody to talk with about poker and computers!

Danielle arrives and we’re just about ready to embark. Danielle is about our age, blonde, sharp-tongued and apparently likes latin dudes. With so many witty people in one place at one time, you can imagine that the insults are flying and it looks like this is going to be quite a fun evening.

We take the subway to Chinatown and step into the tiny Chinese vegetarian restaurant. They seat us and we order appetizers. I try some kind of bean soup, which was not bad. There are some kind of seaweed rolls, which were pretty decent and a tortilla topped with some kind of veggies and sauce that was rather delicious. I ordered something, the name of which I have completely forgotten. I think it started with an “s”. It was pretty good and very filling. I tried a piece of Ramya’s food, which was General Tso’s Soy Protein. Surprisingly, it was very very good!

After dinner, we all head to the Knitting Factory for the rap show! Ramya and Danielle are having some major problems walking in their uncomfortable shoes. They are making it well known to the group. We arrive at the concert venue and the show has not started yet. There’s a DJ spinning some pretty good hip-hop jams on stage. Al, Bonnie and I order some drinks and we all stand around awaiting the show to start. The space begins to fill up and Alias, the first of three acts, takes the stage. Halfway through his set, Danielle and Ramya can’t stand anymore, so they retire to the bar in the next room so they can sit. After Alias plays, Buck 65 goes on and it’s a very cool performance. He plays new songs that have never been heard before. He displays his amazing turntable skills. He plays some old favorites. I take a ton of pictures. The performance is absolutely fantastic! There is some French dude and his girlfriend all grinding on each other and dancing into everybody, which is very annoying. Eventually we make our way in front of the offenders and avoid their annoying wrath.

After Buck 65 plays, Themselves take the stage. Dose One and Jel (the members of the group, Themselves) put on a phenomenal show. They’re extremely talented and it shows! Finally, the third act is done and everybody’s feet are sore. We settle up with the bartender and head out of the venue. Ramya and Danielle refuse to walk another foot, so we decide to take a cab. The only problem is there are now six of us. This guy named Jose, a very small Mexican dude with good taste in music has been charming Danielle all night and has joined our clan. He lives near Ramya and is now traveling with us. We decide to split up and take 2 cabs. After Jose valiantly flags down a taxi, which Bonnie and Danielle join him in, we stumble upon a minivan cab, which would have held us all. Oh well. Al, Ramya and myself head back to the Upper West Side in the minivan cab. We have a rather extreme driver who’s crazy ass driving is rather amusing to Al and Me.. Not so much to Ramya, who was by now, tired and cranky.

We arrive at Ramya’s building, she ascends while Al and I go across the street for some pizza. They have pizza by the slice and it’s like $4 per. I called Bonnie to see if she and Danielle wanted any. Four slices of pizza is almost $20 and drunken Al is razzing the foreign guy behind the counter about the highway robbery. It’s pretty funny.

We get back up to the apartment and dig in. Finally Bonnie and Danielle arrive and after our ever-so-healthy 2am pizza snack, we all find a place to sleep and crash. Bonnie and I relish in the possibility that since we kept Danielle and Ramya up so late, there’s no way they could possibly be up at the crack of dawn!! We may get to sleep in yet!

Guest post, rotten cats and un-pc-ness

A conversation with my cat.........

me: "um, excuse me, I can't see the computer."






"Um, excuse ME, but I am reading this."













me: "It's MY computer.Move it!."






"What? I can't even hear you. "









me: "I'm gonna tell."





"go ahead, Daddy likes me best."









Me:"I'm not kidding ,MOVE!"







"Figaro...figaro...figaro......"












Me:" I'm telling."

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My husband seems to be fine. He is sore from his tumble ,but hopefully ok.
He was going to go home (to England) early. But could not change his flight. So he is staying in Sweden at a friends house. I am glad because the friend will be there to notice if he starts showing signs of a head injury. :)


BTW, He was not drunk. My first question was "how do you know you didn't faint?"

Of course he does not know, because he can't remember the fall. But he is claiming to have tripped on the new shoes I bought him. (Likely story) lol


My post about his fall was supposed to be funny. (even though I am worried sick)
I guess my sarcastic wit is above some peoples heads. (or ,maybe I am just too damn sarcastic)


Last night my neighbor ,Dr. Man rang the doorbell wanting to know how hubby got an epidural hematoma. I said "No, I was just saying it was possible. Because he did NOT go to the doctor afterwards. "


Sorry for the confusion.

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I realize that I sometimes say things that may seem un-PC. I am sorry about that, I do not mean to offend anyone. That's just the way things roll sometimes.

I promised a guest post by my eldest son.....and here is PART 1:

Disclaimer:I have nothing against gay people ,and neither does my son. It just happens to come up sometimes. Just like the white trash ,black chick I had to sit next to at the beauty shop. But that's a whole 'nother story. :)
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Ok.....Presenting

Part 1:Weis's trip to the big Apple

Prologue:

This trip is to be my third trip to New York City. I’ve always wanted to go to a taping of the Conan O’Brien show, but it’s really tough to get tickets! By some miracle, Bonnie has procured them this time! Holy Crap!! The only catch is the taping doesn’t leave much time afterwards for me to get to my plane. I decide not to check any bags in order to save time at the airport.

I have learned to accept the fact that I simply will not get any sleep the night before taking a trip of almost any kind. It’s a fact of life. I’m ok with it... Sort of.

Bonnie says that it’s likely to be chilly in the city. I’m pretty thrilled about the idea of cool weather after the hellish Florida summer. I pack one pair of shorts and 2 pair of jeans (a third pair which I’m wearing on the way there). Two whole pairs of jeans take up about 2/3 the space in my tiny carry-on suitcase. I don’t think I’ve ever packed so light in my life. It’s kinda nice actually.

I’m all “packed” before 10pm.. Wow! Usually I’m not finished until 2am. I take a shower and then I decide to start copying videos to my laptop and music to my iphone. I update to the latest itunes and there’s a cool new way to make playlists! I separate my stupid gels and liquids into a quart-sized zip-loc baggie. I carefully decide which pills I should bring. Allergy meds, check. More powerful allergy meds, check. Caffeine pills, check. Sleeping pills, check. Nyquil, check. Dayquil, check. Multi-vitamin, check. Antacids, check. (you never know what tiny ailment will ruin your vacation!!) I go over my inventory, itinerary and anal-retentatively confirm that I haven’t forgotten a single detail.

What do you know? It’s now 1am!!!

I finally lay down to sleep after setting my alarm for 4:45am. I toss and turn for what seems like an eternity. I can hear my roommates talking in the other room. I can tell they are being very quiet, but my amplified insomnia hearing allows me to hear every rat fart in a ten mile radius!

Finally I manage to fall asleep and am immediately awoken by my alarm.

Friday:

I spring from my bed and start my normal routine of coffee and breakfast.

My mouth is scorched from eating pizza for dinner the night before. Scorch-mouth makes even the most delicious coffee taste like bile. I drink it anyway! I toss my 2 small bags and coat into the car and head to my friend, Scott’s house. He lives pretty close to the airport. Scott drives me to the airport in my car. I jump out with my coat and luggage. I pre-printed my boarding pass so I don’t even have to check-in!

I get on the plane and try to sleep. I’m unsuccessful for the most part, however I do manage to doze off just long enough to be jolted awake by the gum in my mouth. Fortunately I didn’t a) choke on it or b) wake up with it smeared all over my face and hair.

The plane lands in Newark, NJ and it’s a frigid 68 degrees. No need to wait for my checked baggage.. A nice touch! I step outside and Bonnie pulls up in a matter of minutes. She informs me that she also got about 2 hours of sleep the night before. We communicate in mostly grunts, sighs and shrugs as we make our way into the city in our sleep deprived states. We pull up to Ramya’s apartment building in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I elect to help Ramya bring our luggage up while Bonnie watches the car. (Parking is out of the question)

Ramya comes out of the building and we load up with luggage, board games, blankets and pillows. I have all these games balanced perfectly on my suitcase and slowly start wheeling it into the lobby. Two women have just finished smoking. One of them helps me pull my ridiculous load up the step while the other one pretty much heckles me. “It’s going to be awful when that scrabble game spills all over the floor.” “It sure is going to be fun to clean up blah blah blah.” The dumb hag’s heckling causes me to speed up my pace, which of course, sends the pile of board games toppling over on the lobby floor. “I knew that was going to happen blah blah blah.” The less haggish of the two women helps me pick up the uno cards and we left the games on the front desk while we lugged the rest into the tiny elevator and up to the 11th floor.

Back down to the car, Bonnie and I head to Queens to find a parking spot. Her friend, Vinnie lives there and there’s usually ample parking. When we arrive, we quickly realize that the ample parking is only there on the weekends. On a Friday, there’s nowhere to park! We finally find a spot after circling for about 30 minutes. We get on the subway and make our way back to Ramya’s apartment. We stop at a mini grocery store to get some coffee (they have a name for this kind of store, but I can’t remember what it is). They were having a special on overripe bananas.. Only 35 cents!

We meet Ramya at a place called city grill for lunch. We are quite ravenous. I ordered a chicken club sandwich. It was pretty decent, except for the hard ass bread, which wasn’t very pleasant against my scorch-mouth!

After lunch, we go back to Ramya’s apartment. I change into my only pair of shorts and pass out for a nap while Bonnie and Ramya go boot shopping. They return without any boots. We chill out and watch a couple episodes of “It’s always sunny in Philadelphia.” Bonnie gets ready to go to the Hayden concert. I put on my shoes and we’re off.

We make it to happy hour at this place called “nice guy eddies.” Thus begins a night of too many beers. After that, we head to Bowery Ballroom for the Hayden concert and we are way early! As soon as we walk in, Hayden is at the bar. I figure I’ll have plenty of opportunities to talk to him, so I don’t bother. After that he disappears... Blast! We’re super early, so we might as well keep drinking!

Finally, Hayden takes the stage and the show is phenomenal. He plays a nice mixture of old and new songs. A great time is had by all. After Hayden is done, Juliana Hatfield is playing. We leave before she goes on. We meet up with Edward at this vegetarian Thai restaurant. On a side note: Bonnie and all of her friends are vegetarian. Edward is vegan (super vegetarian). This is the first of many vegetarian dining experiences.

My pseudo-chicken curry is pretty damn good. I ordered it extra spicy and they didn’t disappoint! Edward heads back to his place and Bonnie and I go off to continue our drunken rampage. After we separate, Bonnie and I start bickering about whether or not Edward is pretentious and/or gay. We stumble into a random bar so Bonnie can use the bathroom. We have more beers. We head for this karaoke place called lemongrass. We order beers and these lesbians start to sing “come to my window” by Melissa Etheridge. It is just about the worst thing either of us have ever heard. We quickly down our drinks and head to the next stop. We find what appears to be a regular sports bar, but they are playing ambiguously gay 80’s music. There are very very few females in there and a bartender with an Irish accent. Bonnie and I determine that it’s a gay sports bar. Who knew?

We have a couple beers here and finally stumble back to Ramya’s apartment. The Edward debate rages on pretty much the whole time. Bonnie and I both like to argue. Especially when drunk.

We made it to Ramya’s in one piece!!! It’s a miracle! I make my bed on the couch and Bonnie jumps in bed with Ramya. Side note: Ramya’s sleep schedule is that of an 80 year old married couple, so she goes to bed at 9:30 and wakes up at 6am!!

To be continued....