f l u x

I am mad tired.

All the packages are in the mail, including the one that had to be re-mailed. Honest, people, I will be super non-guesstimating about postage from here on out.

I went around to Ashland with Zoe this afternoon (in the snow, gah) and got an application for Ashley Gardens apartments, where I used to live with Mark, so I know they're very nice. The manager was out, but she'd thoughtfully left one wedged in the door for me. We went around to Tyre Village, which was cute and clean and was totally built in the 70s; a bunch of terra cotta-colored split-levels with shake roofs and a little playground in the center. That one, I have to go to Medford tomorrow to get an application for. There are a very limited number of apartments in the Valley that are DHS approved; about twenty total between Ashland and Grants Pass. We'll see what shakes loose. If nothing else, I'll wait until Bodhi is born and start looking in PDX as well.

lepaggoth, thank you so much for the cute clothes for Zoe and Bodhi! Zoe is wearing the shirt presently and loves it.

Size and general development leads us to believe that I have a healthy 37 week baby. His lungs are fully developed, his heart rate is great, and he weighs 6 pounds 7 oz. One thing, I am running low on fluid and they would like to see me back next Monday to check on it again. Dr. Sohl feels I should prepare to have a baby in the next two to three weeks. No pressure! Eeek, I feel so unprepared.

I applied for and was granted a DV housing grant this morning at DHS. Provided I find an apartment/house anywhere in Oregon within three months, they will pay my first, last and deposit and raise my aid amount so I can pay my rent. I'm so happy.

Time to start calling around.

It seems like basically every third person I know both online and in Actual Real Life has decided that, since I am super-pregnant, it would be really awesome to flood my inbox/voicemail with witticisms about Michelle Duggar's 19th baby and their earnest hopes that I have not become dumb enough/a big enough breeder to want to push out 19 kids myself. Or, if they're Mike, "Congratulations! Hope there's not 17 more in there!"

Here is my unsolicited, unpopular opinion: if a person wants 19 kids and can afford to support them, more power to them. I am not one of those people, but I'll be damned if I'm going to criticize another woman's choices. It's totally not my business, and, yo, it's not yours either. If somebody doesn't want kids, that's their business. If somebody wants to repopulate a small town with kids, that's their business. Me, I'd be happy to have three or four tops. And that's my business.

And now I will step off my soapbox.

If you want a card from me this year, drop me a message with your address.

Yesterday I mailed loot for Sara and Elsa. Today I will mail loot for Lesley, Charlotte and Cat. Next week, I will re-mail loot for Taina. Sorry on the wait, 2/3 of today's crowd. Wrangling large packages + Zoe is a whole lot of no fun.



In other news, you guys should totally see this movie, because it's fucking awesome. Zoe and I watched it yesterday and were both impressed. Apparently I have succeeded in raising a mini-metalhead; Zoe threw her fist in the air and screamed every time they took the stage. Made her mom proud. :)

Apparently, this ran in Cracked magazine, which I do not read. It's a lulzfest.

ROBERT PATTINSON

Kristen, my family is dangerous. I mean, a single drop of blood whipped them into a hilarious frenzy.

KRISTEN STEWART

I noticed. So do I just avoid coming over for a week every month or something?

( If New Moon were 10 times shorter and 100 times more honest )

I decided to finally get rid of a bunch of clothing I was hoarding in the hopes I might someday be a size small again.

I accept Paypal, money orders, or concealed cash. All clothing is a size small, all shoes are size 7 or 8. First come, first served.

None of the DIY shirts were sewn by me.

( T.U.K., Omen, band shirts, Goth, metal, you name it - CHEAP )

Because I know how important it is for my kids (and me) to be sociable on a local scale, I finally got off my procrastinating - 18 months of procrastinating - duff and made a pre-new year's resolution to start attending three different social things regularly/more regularly. One is a group of crunchy homeschoolers that meets once a month in Phoenix, of all places, originally recommended to me by Wendy (a doula) when I was pregnant with Zoe. *blush* Yeah, hesitant, that's me. Secondly, Simple Faith meetings, which I always forget now that they're once a month. Thirdly, Rogue Valley Permaculture, which is just what it sounds like.

I realised that I'm not going to make good, soul-sustaining, child-friendship-nurturing connections here if all I do is talk to friends from places I used to live - seven or ten years ago, take your pick! - and go to black metal society meetings. I want to - finally! - put down some local roots that aren't mired in the drama!drama! culture around Musichead, the former SOHC, etc. Not to sound like all 'oh poor me' but I'm a very shy person and it is really hard for me to reach out and meet new people in the face-to-face way, but, you know, it's high time I do.

So this is a big thing for me.

--

Other news, it is 9 frickin' degrees out this morning, and I've never been so grateful to have reliable heat in the house. Finally broke down last winter and bought a dutch oven (you know, those little space heaters that have fake fireplaces in them) and so the living room, where Zoe and I spend most our day, is toasty warm.

I feel like a rotten journaler lately. All I seem to do is either bitch about shit in my life that no one cares about or talk about my kids incessantly, which, again, I don't think anyone cares about. Probably I should just face up to the fact that my life is really fucking boring.

Today, I ran around to various government offices informing them of my name change. Zoe was not cool about being in the car that much and screamed at me for the whole trip, by the end of which I felt like hammered ass.

Apparently John wants to take time off work next month to see Bodhi. Didn't mention thing one about seeing Zoe or Kaj. I don't know how I feel about that.

I have come to face facts that I am basically no longer writing a book. I don't have time. Zoe demands my attention 99% of the day and I'm about to have another kid. The only time I can write is when she's asleep and at that point usually I'm fucking exhausted and have to sleep too.

DHS has a note in my file saying that my personality type and abilities make even my realistic goals (teaching or midwifery) extremely unrealistic. They think I should look for a job doing assembly or woodworking or something else factory-like. "Client claims to be a writer but her income shows negligable effort or talent in this field." Thankfully not everyone thinks so; I've sold three books in the last two days.

I'm not getting comment notifications, so if you've written me something extremely scintillating and I haven't replied, that's probably why.

It's been snowing off and on here since Saturday morning. So far, it hasn't stuck, at least where I live. My doctor's office is at a higher elevation, so getting to this morning's appointment may be fun.

Zoe has started speaking again! For the last few months, she'd abandoned most of her words in favor of pointing and grunting or just saying "that!" at whatever she wanted. Last night, she was reading a salespaper with my mother and said, without prompting, "apple", and then "cat", "dog", "frog", and "fish." So proud of her. She also now waves and says "bye-bye" to everybody we meet--leaving stores, offices, family members, you name it.

In news You May Not Care About (the official title) my friend Brian got licensed as a Color Me Beautiful consultant (theory of cosmetology which divides you up in "seasons" of color based on your skin tone, hair color, etc) and is now doing in home consultations in the Medford area. So, hit me up if you want to throw a party and have a fabulous dude figure out what season you are. According to Brian, I am a Summer. Which seems pretty accurate yet simultaneously blows because I'm not supposed to wear black ever for any reason. Breakin' the law!

Y'know WHY they're filming a new Twilight movie in Portland?

Because GUS VAN SANT is directing it.

D: D: D:

WHY, GUS? WHY???

My baby shower is this Saturday. Crazy crazy! To everyone who's RSVPd, thank you. I don't expect the Portland or SF peeps to make it, but if you're going to try, please let me know. Right now I've got about 15 people confirmed, which is about a third of those I invited.

Mom of the year here is letting Zoe eat caramel corn (because it's natural, you see, it came from the co-op and therefor it's only hippie junk food which doesn't count) and she is wound like a spring. Bad mommy. I fail. At least I have the comfort of knowing she'll conk out after her afternoon bottle probably.

Phil flaked out on his promise of baked goods for the shower (he's going hunting) so I went to Market of Choice and found some chocolate chip Heath bar cookies, OM NOM NOM. The fun part is not letting myself eat any before the party. Along with cookieness, I ordered a cake from Yummykake; it's chocolate with creme de menthe filling. DROOL. They didn't have a woodland scene to speak of, so they're putting on a hunting scene minus the hunter. This way we get trees and deer and stuff, so I'm not complaining. Hopefully the deer is pictured alive and well, lol. I pick that up tomorrow. Thankfully my mom has tomorrow off to help out. I don't want to picture attempting to wrangle Zoe + balance cake. Scary!

BTW, I've decided that even when I'm busy and semi-retarded on the phone, the best shit ever is having people I actually know call me during the day instead of telemarketers. Thanks, bel0ved. Anyone else who wants to call me, feel free.

Soren's grandmother passed away yesterday, it was in the paper. She may have had a rotten grandkid, but she was a sweet old lady. Rest in peace, Mary Katherine Sorenson.

They're shooting the 4th Twilight movie in your fair city.

Run! Run!

Went to my 32 week appointment yesterday with Zoe. Zoe is so well-behaved in public, it's amazing. Even when she's lightning spawn of doom at home, she puts on a polite face in public and all my doctors/dhs workers/ladies at the courthouse just dote on her. As it should be.

Well, I won't be able to birth at home ): because of the midwives who have room on their schedule, none of them take OHP. Wah, suck. Fortunately, I will have a doula with me in the birthing center, so that will help out bunches. Her name is Wendy, I met her when I was pregnant with Zoe, she's a very cool crunchy homeschooling mama.

Doc says that my blood pressure is excellent and Bodhi has a tight fit (my womb measures 31 weeks while he measures 33 weeks) but is otherwise in excellent health. Neither of us show signs of pre-eclampsia or impending labor or fetal distress. I have beat the curse of 32 weeks! (This is when I gave birth to Zoe last time.)

Filled out my paperwork for the hospital birth center, indicating that I'm super natural woman and don't want pain meds, pitocin, or anyone cutting my junk open while I'm trying to give birth. And NO C-SEC unless a medical emergency arises, which I highly doubt. My kid is already head down and ready to go. Also, low lights and quiet people. And music, though I imagine the music I pick will probably scare people. C'est la vie.

Remember, a few days ago, when I went to see New Moon and could not possibly do justice to how lulzily awful it truly is?

New Moon in 15 Minutes

That is the funniest shit ever, sincerely.

I thought for sure that the Oregon civil war (OSU vs U of O) was this weekend, but I just googled it and it turns out it's Thursday. What a weird ass day. Every other state's civil war seems to be on tv today, but we have to go do it on Thursday. I predict a lot of people calling in sick this week.

Yes, I watch football. You may remove two billion goth points now.

Took Zoe over to my Aunt Babe's house (technically, her great-great aunt) for Thanksgiving dinner. Very few people showed up; some had other parties to attend, some stayed home to watch football. Noteable of the people who showed up were the branch of the family best referred to as rednecks on parade.

My cousin John's wife made her way through most of a 6 pack of beer and started hitting on my Aunt Judy's similarly inebriated husband in a very six-year-old, hair pulling, beer belly-poking way. It was pretty pathetic. She's always bombed at family functions; Zoe avoids her like the plague.

Later on in the night, aforementioned husband placed a cell phone call ("What up, dawg?" from a forty year old white guy sounds just rad) to his ex-con brother to let him know that the propane tank he wanted to borrow was in the garage ("but please don't steal anything else, yo") and to leave a "cool o-z of green" when he went. In front of his father-in-law, my daughter, and assorted eighty year old relatives. Oy.

I look forward to such a time as Zoe and Bodhi and I can start our own family holiday traditions.

What I am currently eating (a bagel stuffed with blueberries and vegan cream cheese) is the most decadent and NOM-iest thing on the planet, sincerely.

OM NOM NOM forever.

I have, by the way, gained the required amount of weight now. Probably I should go back to eating in a more health-conscious fashion.