Professional Ladders

. so Ha Ha Ha Mr. Bobby Mestepey. Na Na Boo Boo! the only thing that gets me through is knowing my husband has been wrong about me for the last 12 years, 7 months, and 9 days. So Ha I say as I wallow in self pity eating bonbons, and playing bejeweled.

 

Bobby has always said its HIS fault, if he was higher up on the professional ladder, I would be more relaxed about life and would magically turn into little miss sunshine. DO I LOOK HAPPIER? I don't think so.

 

So after a tough go and much hard work, my husband has earned a pass to move 3 steps up the professional ladder. And do to some technical difficulties, I have completely fallen off the ladder. Thankfully my ladder was like a step stool so the only permanent damage is my pride.

 

I was trying to end this blog on a happy note but that would imply I'm happy. Sure my wonderful, brilliant, husband will probably try to shower me with gifts this year like a new-used van, a pop up camper, and two trips to see 2 of my bestest friends so they can slap me out of my funk… and a kiosk at the mall… but would that really make me feel better? Probably not but its certainly worth s try 

 

The weird thing about me is I can only be in a depressed-state-of-funk for so long before I get bored and create a new project for myself. Although ya know if I got more junk food and get hooked on a tv series on demand, I bet I have another week of good wallowing in me. So I'm sitting on the fence. Wallow or start pounding the pavement again… I need a junk-food-delivery-service.

 

But we pinky shook. Bobby & me. If I don't give up my $10 a month dimphotos gig, he won't give up his 5 zillion dollars career. That's sounds fair. So here's my plan, I'll send more flyers and emails out and work on my book. Right after I finished my game of bejeweled… and eat… and watch something…

 

And for the record, I'm really not a bitch, our van is on his last tire, we've been wanting a popup camper for three years. We've planned a Colorado trip since last summer. Ok, I may have slightly exaggerated my importance in seattle at D's house warming party but…(who knew Bobby would believe David needed me to come and cook… But whatever gets us there..) ok the kiosk demand borders on bitchyness but it's better than demanding jewelry I guess. (I got it in my head that if dimphotos just had a kiosk in the mall, I could be huge! But the funny part is its unbelievably expensive, Bobby and I had a price we would consider, it was like tripled our "magical doable range)

 

But anyway the one and only important message is to tell Bobby that he rocks! And I knew he'd survived his first two weeks. And I'm sorry I got it in my brain that I need to be a productive member of society… I need to stop it and realize I married rich and just like go shopping. And if you believe that, a hot, home cook meal made by me will be waiting when you get home tonight. (yep, outback take-out please.)

It ain't easy being crip

Its always amusing to initiate new members into the crip club. I say initiate but I guess its more a revelation on their part. Getting pass my odd looking outside, pass the sweetness most people think I am and getting to the core of my true quarky-but-bitchy-self. This moment came at the zoo. Sunday. The 2 newest members mumbled “don't you HATE people like that? Why do people stare at you? You should run there asses over.”

 

This is how dumb I am. I had to run down the list in my head of what they were referring to. Was I having a bad boob day? did they hate my smile? Were they pointing at my boy, thinking he belong with the monkeys? Or did they know my deepest darkest secret, I’m gonna fail to meet my 38-year-old-goals which will eventually lead to my insanity. (If you recently got a promotion, sold/lease a house, where a robe to work, own a bowling alley, or are going to school to double your current income, no lectures please unless its includes a face to face drinking session. But damn, I keep good company!)

 

Handicap? What? They are staring at my handicap? Oh shit, I thought it was something important, like my poor career choices or questioning my hotness. Who cares about the crip thing. I can't decide if its sad or hysterical that I was stared at like a animal at the zoo. Oh the Irony of it all. I wanting to yell: I AM NOT A ANIMAL. (one person is laughing their ass off and you are so going to hell. hehehe) Wouldn’t it be funny if I could take pictures of people staring and publish a book called like staring at the face of weirdness or something.

 

So this has got me thinking about the crip thing. Stupid things bug me lately. I thought I decided to have my birthday party at sugarland pizza something. It’s like a chuck-e-cheese without the scary oversized animals. The food’s not great but here is why I thought I had to. All of the birthday games are rigged. Hello! The birthday person wins everything, like limbo and that freeze statue game. And since most of my friends are competitive brainy gaming types their heads would explode when I won the limbo contest just because that’s physically impossible. Sweet! But at last another dream is shattered because of two cripisms. The money slots on the video games are super low so I almost toppled over twice. And the gateway to the go-cart line has 27 steps. Yes I counted.

 

Another thing that is depressing is my husband got a ps3 and for like 3 months I’ve been looking for a crip-friendly controller. So I finally find one and I realized that it only has one joy stick, which means in most games I can only move from side to side and if I have to go forward or backwards, I’m screwed. Its crazy, I say, I’m even handicapped in cyber space. But in full disclosure there’s one game I can kinda play and it is the most idiotic game on the face of the planet but I’m totally obsessed with it. I forbid Bobby to show me how to pull it up on the ps3 because I know myself, if I could play when no ones home… Although, I’m trying to get it on my computer but thank goodness its not available or I’d be playing pain instead of writing this. But seriously, if anyone knows of a overgrown ps3 controller please let me know,

 

The other thing I found amusement with is I’d rather cut out my tongue with a dull knife than go to physical therapy, but for some stupid reason, getting a personal trainer is hip and fabulous. And I wanna be hip and fabulous so I got one. I’m gonna ease into it, but I have my first “training” next Thursday. And we are starting our walking/biking Wednesday.

 

The coolest thing is: next time someone stares at me at the zoo, they’ll be staring at my fabulous arms… (yea… ok, but I’m happily delusional)  

 

 

Careers moves

Here’s the problem. I don’t think things through. I understand things that are happening, I just don't always comprehend the repercussions. For example, before Bobby started Ultrasound school we went to dinner with our friends. We ate at Chuys. I even remember what we all ordered. We had this really cute conversation about how cool it would be to perform ultrasound on the opposite sex and to get paid for it. And I admit I freely participated in the conversation. But I guess I thought it was hypothetical. Like our “5 people list”. Like  if Bobby’s ever stuck in a elevator with Jennifer Love Hewitt. Or I’m stranded on a desert island with Benjamin bratt…

 

So Bobby starts school and every week he tells me about the scans on the throat he does and 50 other things he does that I don't understand but his face is happy so I assume it is good. so last week he comes home all excited because he did his 1st scan on the heart on another cute well endowed student.

 

I took rocks for jocks in college as my science. So it was cool to learn you can do a scan of the heart through the throat. Yup. Yup. I need to believe this because if you actually had to do a scan above the heart that means Bobby would actually have to touch non-throat areas and I’ll have to break his hands. Bummer.

 

I’m Kidding. I'll just make it about me, like I always do. He has to  “intern” for my brother for a while so surely my brother only has elderly male patients. Surely. And if that doesn’t work, I can be bought off. An hour with phil and his warm rocks every week. Phil gives massages! Geez… And I’ll pretend when the boys are on the porch smoking stokies, they are evilly grinning about wonderful surprises they plan to bestow on us. and not listening to Bobby's "ultrasound" story of the week. Whatever gets me through the night right.

 

The other problem I didn’t see coming is on a more serious note. After years of sucking at many business ideas, (although in my favor I think my seminars can be huge but I don't know how to market it.) I think my dimphotos shows the most potential. Yesterday I got my first “contract” of steady work. and it kinda pushes my little toe to the door of potential opportunities. If I get several contracts maybe I could even hire someone part time to do a little delivery, some errands… ya know.

 

I can't even say what it is because its too… Bobby and juliebeth have talked me into it. (when I call you in tears…) It’s making slideshows of love ones who have recently passed on. Am I the only one who thinks this is wrong to make money at this? Hello? From a purely ethical standpoint it seems wrong. To profit from death. Not to mention sad and a little creepy. But I had to laugh because this could only happen to me because the lady who contacted us was surprised that my price was like ¼ of what she was paying. And I thought we overpriced it. We’ll see.

 

I can’t end on such a depressing note so I’ll end on a morbid one. I’ve decided that David can do my slides when the time comes, with Michael Bolton music. (trust me, its funny. Isn’t it nice to know I plan to annoy you from the great beyond?) But here’s the problem. You’ll have to use pictures from like the 90s and your wedding. I looked good at your wedding… I discovered I have a new compulsive in which I choose nothing to do about. last week I needed a ugly picture of myself (that’s another story but…) and I realize, I had none! Because I sorta… deleted all the bad pictures of me. Ain’t that cool? Bobby takes pictures of like weekend trips, downloads them & kinda forgets them and I go in and “edit” them. Its amazing Bobby & Nicholas are never deleted. Weird huh?

 

Bobby is never downloading pictures on my computer again. teeheehee.

 

 

Career Moves, Bob up, Claire down

Here’s the problem. I don’t think things through. I understand things that are happening, I just don't always comprehend the repercussions. For example, before Bobby started Ultrasound school we went to dinner with our friends. We ate at Chuys. I even remember what we all ordered. We had this really cute conversation about how cool it would be to perform ultrasound on the opposite sex and to get paid for it. And I admit I freely participated in the conversation. But I guess I thought it was hypothetical. Like our “5 people list”. Like  if Bobby’s ever stuck in a elevator with Jennifer Love Hewitt. Or I’m stranded on a desert island with Benjamin bratt…

 

So Bobby starts school and every week he tells me about the scans on the throat he does and 50 other things he does that I don't understand but his face is happy so I assume it is good. so last week he comes home all excited because he did his 1st scan on the heart on another cute well endowed student.

 

I took rocks for jocks in college as my science. So it was cool to learn you can do a scan of the heart through the throat. Yup. Yup. I need to believe this because if you actually had to do a scan above the heart that means Bobby would actually have to touch non-throat areas and I’ll have to break his hands. Bummer.

 

I’m Kidding. I'll just make it about me, like I always do. He has to  “intern” for my brother for a while so surely my brother only has elderly male patients. Surely. And if that doesn’t work, I can be bought off. An hour with phil and his warm rocks every week. Phil gives massages! Geez… And I’ll pretend when the boys are on the porch smoking stokies, they are evilly grinning about wonderful surprises they plan to bestow on us. and not listening to Bobby's "ultrasound" story of the week. Whatever gets me through the night right.

 

The other problem I didn’t see coming is on a more serious note. After years of sucking at many business ideas, (although in my favor I think my seminars can be huge but I don't know how to market it.) I think my dimphotos shows the most potential. Yesterday I got my first “contract” of steady work. and it kinda pushes my little toe to the door of potential opportunities. If I get several contracts maybe I could even hire someone part time to do a little delivery, some errands… ya know.

 

I can't even say what it is because its too… Bobby and juliebeth have talked me into it. (when I call you in tears…) It’s making slideshows of love ones who have recently passed on. Am I the only one who thinks this is wrong to make money at this? Hello? From a purely ethical standpoint it seems wrong. To profit from death. Not to mention sad and a little creepy. But I had to laugh because this could only happen to me because the lady who contacted us was surprised that my price was like ¼ of what she was paying. And I thought we overpriced it. We’ll see.

 

I can’t end on such a depressing note so I’ll end on a morbid one. I’ve decided that David can do my slides when the time comes, with Michael Bolton music. (trust me, its funny. Isn’t it nice to know I plan to annoy you from the great beyond?) But here’s the problem. You’ll have to use pictures from like the 90s and your wedding. I looked good at your wedding… I discovered I have a new compulsive in which I choose nothing to do about. last week I needed a ugly picture of myself (that’s another story but…) and I realize, I had none! Because I sorta… deleted all the bad pictures of me. Ain’t that cool? Bobby takes pictures of like weekend trips, downloads them & kinda forgets them and I go in and “edit” them. Its amazing Bobby & Nicholas are never deleted. Weird huh?

 

Bobby is never downloading pictures on my computer again. teeheehee.

 

the good, the bad, and the idiots

So last weekend I was invited to see the new movie Tropic Thunder the next time we had babysitters for the kids. I wasn’t completely sold on the movie because the invite came like 5 seconds after seeing an intense, dark, good, dare I say great movie. But I’m game for anything with our new click so I’m like hell yeah.

 

Imagine my astonishment the next day when I read that some disability groups are protesting Tropic Thunder. Sadly it only fueled my need to see it. Because if it causes the disability community to be up in arms, it must be offensive and it’s gonna make me laugh my ass off. Their complaint is Ben Stiller character is referred to as retarded, I think that was the gist of it.

 

No its not nice. And I admit I am very hypercritical about that stuff. Don't call my husband a ass, don't call my girls hoes, and don't call my homosexual best friend a fag, but I do, on a daily basis.

 

But come on. It’s a movie. Equal opportunity offender. If you’re sensitive, unlike myself, don't go to the movie. Because, news flash, the people who see it probably already have an opinion of the word. I prefer not to use it. And seeing the movie won’t suddenly make me want to use it.  Although I still do say “oh my god” from the 80s movie Valley Girls so…

 

There are such bigger fishes to fry. Like the “ugly” Chinese girl. did ya’ll hear about this? Now that just chaps my hide. In short ugly girl was replaced with cute girl to lip-sync to hidden ugly girl voice at the Olympics opening ceremonies.  This is offensive to ugly girls everywhere, including myself. The worse part is I wanted to see what she looked like. If she was deformed or crippled or had hideous acne or wore glasses or had bad teeth or drooled uncontrollable. (3 people are laughing. Stop. Asses. Teeheehee) but she was absolutely gorgeous!

 

Bigger fishes to fry, like idiots who park in disability parking. Ok this is usually Bobby’s pet peeve. I have so many other things to grip about. But this one guy left me speechless. We were trying to park at the mall. There was 2 crip spots and a none-crip was just parked, hanging out in one. That was the one I needed with the strips on my side so I could transfer to my chair easier. Bobby asked him to move, and at first he hesitated, pointing at the next slot, but then yelled “calm down man”. And backs out, making room for us to pull in.

 

So Bobby is cursing under his breath but I’m just relieved because I think it's over. Nope. There’s more. The guy has the nerve to repark next to us. In the other handicap spot. Bobby is absolutely livid. Like those cartoons with the smoke coming out of his cute ears. It was actually good to know other people cause him to do this, not just me. But I could tell he really really wanted to confront the guy. I’m trying to calm him down. Because A) Nicholas was with us. and B) I hated the smell of fresh blood before shopping. So he and Nicholas finally go unload my wheelchair in the back. And I realize I’m mad, and like I said, I don't usually care. But this guy seemed to be just wanting to be a pain. So as I get out of the van I try to make eye contact with this guy while looking just as pathetic as I can, legs extra twisted, left arm higher in air. He never looked at me. Bastard… the bad kind. (as opposed to the good bastards I play board games with.)

 

So what have we learn today? Calling a real girl ugly, bad. Parking in disability spaces when you don't need to, bad. Seeing a movie that might make us laugh, not so bad. Go see it and say your favorite crip sent you.

 

Best damn vacation ever!

First as a overall acknowledgement, my Vegas Vacation was awesome. I spent time with my boys and one of my bestest friends. So that in itself is wonderful. But you know me, I need stuff to bitch about because it’s just my nature.

 

Before we left I was trying to sell two big highlights to Nicholas. One, there’s an awesome pirate show that you’ll love. With swords, explosions, and sinking ships. Every boy’s fantasy right? Secondly the grand canyon will just take your breath away. Not so much.

 

Bobby and I saw the pirate show 5 years ago and I was just heart broken that Nicholas wasn’t with us. This time I was heart broken that nicholas was witness to it. For 20 minutes my son glared at me. The show kinda changed y’all. now there was a girl ship and a boy ship. Half naked girl kipnaps half naked boy, ties him up… slowly… he didn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight. I’m just saying… Then the battling ships proceeds to a dance off instead of a sword fight. Than there was an explosion or two which Nicholas sorta enjoyed but I think he was too far in denial zone to appreciate the destruction. And that was that.

 

I don't consider myself to be a prude. Ok Bobby might but I’m not. I flirted with a Klingon. Hey it wasn’t like he got paid to fraternize with customers. Oh. Oh! Damnit, guess I shouldn’t have bought those 50 jugs of klingon wine. (two people are laughing their asses off the rest, nevermind…) I took a picture with a cipendale dancer, kinda (next yall will tell me he WAS WORKING TOO. Whatever!) so there. I’m not a prude. But this pirate show was questionable at best. Bad dancing. Bad acting. And way too much skin. Nicholas was offended. Bobby was baffled. And I couldn’t believe I’ve just seen a pg-strip show, and a bad one at that.

 

But I still knew grand canyon would be awesome for Nicholas. One or two things would happen. He would have a amazing revelation at how beautiful god creation is. Or, even more astonishing, that I love him so much that I dragged my ass out of the casino to take him.  Now that’s truly a miracle! So we cross the dam, cross the desert, 5 hour drive. I refuse to pee because we were in my friends van and putting the wheelchair in was a pain so I just decided not to pee. We drive. Clouds forming. Raindrops appear, which didn’t help my peeing protest. But I was a woman on a mission. Once we get there and i raced to the restrooms, We had a lovely picnic and as we begun our hike the skies clear, and for a moment, perfection. It truly is beautiful. And then this lovely little boy I gave life to, looked into my eyes and said “Mommy.” I love it when he says mommy. “mommy, where’s the arcade?” clouds reappeared and I chased his ungrateful ass all the way back to the van in the pouring rain. Little brat!

 

Of course these 2 events were minor in overall the best dam family vacation ever! Nicholas had so much fun with his buddy Samuel. i just enjoyed hanging with my peeps, and hitting it big on the penny machines. And I’m wearing Bobby down. 1st vegas trip he was like gambling is evil. 2nd, he watched me, this time he actually sneaked away to gamble, and wants to go back next year. Yes! Finally I’ve corrupted him. I take great pride in that. My work has just begun. Did he know there was a casino exactly 149 miles from our house? I’m just saying… all of the pennies, none of the airfare!

 

But if you know me. I’m a simple minded gal and as long as I’m with my girlfriends, I giggle at anything. The best dam thing that amused me was Julie & I started playing the dam game as we crossed the Hoover dam. It’s the game where you can shout dam as long as it’s a legal phrase because dam is not a bad word. At first Bobby thought it was cute… but on the 35th dam, he started giving me dirty looks. Dam him.

 

The only bad thing about a vacation so wonderful is the bit of depression afterwards. I’m lucky because I have a bunch of best friends who I truly love, regretfully most of them aren’t in Houston. And sometimes when I don't see them for a while I worry we won't click. You & me still click jb. And I’m truly sadden when we are separated again. so there’s just one thing to do, plan our next excellent adventure of course! (actually Bobby says we should do all vacations with yall because Nicholas has sam, I have you & he gets peace with Dewey. and we all love little miss jess. I’m sure Bob's eagerness to vacation with friends is a backhanded compliment about my neediness but what every gets me to you…

 

Talking Font and Magical Signs...

If Bobby really loved me he would sit me down and tell me to stop. Just stop. But my newest obsessions leave little time to nag him so he seems to encourage it.

 

A few weeks ago a my new bff (I just wanted to say that…) my new bff suggested I put all my blogs in a book. I thought this was a cool idea. I’m hooked on trying to design different kinds of books.  It’s sorta fun and it’s a new service my business is offering so my rationality is the more experience, the better the books will look.

 

So I finish the inside layout and at first I decide just to slap on a simple cover. No problem. Title, author, wam bam Thank you mam. Then I thought about it and I think it needs a little funk. No one will ever probably see this book, but it needs funk. I can do funk.

 

Do you know the minute hand on a clock make 60 clicks per round. Just an observation I counted as I waited for my funk to kick in. then inspiration struck. Either that or it was the first idea that popped into my brain. And it sounded simple but than again everything in my head sounds simple. It’s the follow through that always bites me in the ass…

 

Just make the cover full of words describing me and or my blog. Cool. I can do that. Then my best friend from Seattle seemed to take possession my body. Didn’t even buy me dinner first! I say that because he’s very good at layout and design. So I hear him in my head, you need a pattern, you need color, there must be a pattern for your randomness… That just pisses me off, if he can possess my brain, at least can't I have his manual dexterity too?

 

So my husband walks by and I prayed he would say something like “don't you have something better to do on a Saturday afternoon?” but he has to be supportive and shit and said “That’s cool, but you forgot the word, squeal.” which is a very important word in the crip circle. And because I had all the words almost laid out, everything had to be moved 1 cm over. And because David was still in my head, like a obsessive compulsive fool I did it. Bobby asked to see it again after i painfully moved all the words over, I threw him out of my office. (he would of added a word just to watch my head explode!)I smiled with satisfaction about an hour later as I proclaimed it done.  I promised myself to publish my cover after our evening activities.

 

I must have had to much to drink that night because when I returned, my final draft now seem to look like a rough copy, each word screaming they wanted individual fonts sizes and maybe different angles slants. I quickly closed photoshop as if it was Pandora’s box and have avoided looking at it since. I’m on my 97th game of tetris, cool huh?

 

The other bad thing I did, I sorta embezzled family fun money to buy pretty magical signs and  ended up on a corner begging friends to buy my movie tickets babbling that I’ll pay them back with my magical sign money. Ok, that’s not what happened exactly, just my creative perception.

 

My company dimphotos is doing quite well because of Bobby. he brings me home work. so I got to thinking, if he can get me work, I’ll advertise a little and wow him with my brilliance.

 

 So I decide to order this signs, you know the signs in the median you really don't wanna read but you do anyways. That’s me. Pretty gosh darn high tech huh? And just to annoy Bobby, I started calling them my magical signs. For when we stick them, customers will come.

 

Two weeks… I got one inquiry, no work. fantastic! I do have 5 left, I’m debating whether we should put them up or make a pitcher of margaritas, get a few darts and just get out my anger…

 

Magical sign and talking fonts, yet Bobby still let me out on weekends. The other annoying thing is, I can’t let things go. I must close now and attempt to finish the book cover. The bad news is all of the members of the crip club is getting this book for Christmas. Not because the content is that good, I just need to justify my madness. But it might make a funky doorstop.  No, wait… We can make it like a fruitcake, and just pass it around. Now that’s funny!