31 May 2010

Weekly Winners - Here and There

Weekly Winners

This was how I got dressed for car shopping:

My Buy-A-New-Car Outfit

I don't actually recommend, because see that skirt?  Just a tiny bit of windiness and that skirt will totally blow ALL THE WAY UP EXPOSING YOUR CHONIES IN FRONT OF GOD AND EVERYONE.  It was breezy and awkward.  Luckily I was wearing my skull-and-crossbones pirate undies.  So really, I was just showing the car salesmen dudes how badass I was.  Don't fuck with me, under this floral print I'm a pirate and 100% vicious. 
I got a 2010 Toyota Corolla, by the way.  It's red and I love it, although new car smell makes me sort of queasy. 

Julia?  Gabriel wants you to know that he made this outfit 'specially for you.  He had me take a picture to show you how COOL it was, and it's for you, and he says hi.

Happy Memorial Day Everyone!

29 May 2010

No Exercise Syndrome

For the past week or so my legs have been suffering from No Exercise Syndrome. I've seen on the TeeVee that they're calling this Restless Leg Syndrome and prescribing drugs for it. Guys? I'm here to tell you something.
If I don't exercise every day? And I don't mean like cray-cray 2 hour spinning class aerial aerobics exercise, I just mean like, a mile of walking or something, but if I don't exercise every day? I CAN'T FRICKING SLEEP BECAUSE MY LEGS ARE RESTLESS AND IT DRIVES ME CRAZY.
Really, I can't sleep.
Sometimes I'll get up in the middle of the night to jump up and down and do squats and calf raises and stuff so that my leg muscles feel more used and I feel less insane.
And then sometimes I have to get up and do it a second time because I haven't taken a damn walk in three days and my body is pissed y'all.


I don't think it's a good idea to prescribe me a medicine that facilitates sitting on my ass.

That said, I haven't really exercised in over a week, and my legs are driving me nuts, and I'm treating it with generous quantities of wine.

Cheers beeshes.

27 May 2010


Updated at bottom with the artwork of Avitable
I take my breaks at work with the Rebel Smoking Break Crowd.  Even though I'm not a smoker myself, I like to up my badassery a little bit with second hand smoke exposure.  It builds my street cred AND makes it easier for me to demand codeine cough syrup for my permanently damaged lungs.  Or it could be that the ones with no regard for their future as leather-faced emphysema patients are just my VERY favorites.

Or maybe they know about my secret other life as a barhag.  

Either way.

None of this has anything to do with anything, except to set the stage.  I take a break in the morning and a lunch break and a break in the afternoon, because we're labor-law-abiding folks, and, because I run with the BAD KIDS, we always, always, always take our breaks outside, because that's where smoking occurs, even when it's raining.



I'm with coworkers Krish(na) and Steve-that-I-like, and they are smoking, and I am not.  And they are both facing me, sort of standing next-ish to each other with me facing the both of them.  About 15 feet BEHIND THEM is an outdoor staircase that goes god-knows-where-I-don't-know-my-way-around-this-place.  At the base of that staircase is a man with a yellow bicycle.

So we're talking about drug dealers or something equally appropriate and I sort of shriek-yell OHMYGODYOUGUYSTHATGUY.  And they both look behind them at THATGUY and he's just standing there staring at all three of us like WHUT THE EFF I'M JUST STANDING HERE.  And Krish(na) and Steve-that-I-like both look at me like I'm slightly crazy (which is neither new nor news), and I am sort of awkwardly silently laughing to the point of tears, and rocking myself, and sort of twirling slowly in circles.  Because that's how I deal with trauma.
I was in shock.
They want more information, and I'm like I dunno he sort of pulled up his shirt and pulled down his elastic waisted shorts and I saw the top half of his penis and I don't know is that the top half or the bottom half? It was the half that is most closely attached to his body.  He was hairless, by the way, except he had a hairy belly so it's not like he was naturally hairless and OHMYGODYOUGUYS.  
I couldn't totally tell if it was intentional although how could you show me your dick ON ACCIDENT?  And AND AND AND AND.  AND!
My afternoon break was ruined by penis.
Artistic representation courtesy of Avitable.
Let's all thank him.

GTT - Books

In elementary school, when you had to write about your hobbies and talents and pastimes, I was the sad kid who had to write about reading, because that was the only thing I did. 
Yeah, seriously.

I go through book phases.  I spent a year and a half reading, almost exclusively, journalistic accounts of post-colonial history in third world countries.  Then for awhile I was reading historical works written about genocides.  And then there was the Russian history phase. 
You wanna depress yourself?  I have some recommendations. 

I also go through periods where all I want to read are memoirs, or historical fiction from a certain time period, or humorous essays, or romance novels, or et cetera.  I'm obsessive-compulsive like that.

Right now I'm in a young adult novel phase, facilitated entirely by my sister.
I'mma work backwards and tell you about the books I've been reading, starting with the most recent.

Jellicoe Road - OH MY GOD you guys! You guys! I read this book in a day and a half, WEEPING TRAGICALLY THE WHOLE TIME.  It's good-so-good!  And the love story is like, THE BEST, and, and, and.....AND!!!!  I'm still obsessively thinking about this book instead of other things having to do with my actual real life.  I plan on rereading soon.
The names are kind of silly, and it's kind of confusing in the beginning, but TOTALLY WORTH IT.  Oh and it's set in Australia.  It took me a shameful number of pages to figure that out, I'm sparing you the headache.

Fire - This is the prequel to Graceling (which I read first).  Graceling is really, totally good but Fire is SO MUCH BETTER.  But you'll want to read both so read Graceling first, cuz it was written first, and so forth.  Fantasy, both books with super strong female characters, again with the kind of stupid names, but really good love stories and also REALLY CONVINCING EVIL BAD GUYS THAT CREEP YOU OUT.  Totally recommend.

Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side - This book is, in a way, completely ridiculous, but in another way, totally funny and making fun of itself and vampire fluff and great.  Read it in a day, totally enjoyed.  Not as good as Sunshine (which I talked about TO EXCESS here), but a pretty solid vampire love affair book.

My sister has promised to give me this weekend:  Some dark fairy books (faerie, whatever, you know those silly contemporary I'M A GOTH FAIRY BOOKS?  Those.) , and some stuff she has checked out from the library.  I'll try to keep you posted.
Links above are of the affiliate variety

26 May 2010


"My back hurts. Like up the side of my neck. Like a lot."

"I'm sorry."



"Hey what do you do about your stupid crippled back?"

"I have vicodin."

"Does that make it not hurt?  Or does it just make you not care that it hurts?"

"Mainly it makes me not care."

"Okay....I may stop by your office before I go home today."
Diptychs were forgotten today, not on purpose, just....y'know.  We'll post two next week, and next week will be 'complicated,' cuz remembering is COMPLICATED. Or something.

**whine** my back hurts **whine**

25 May 2010

Sleep Fisticuffs - Advice Welcome

It's been a struggle, but Gabriel finally, FINALLY sleeps in his own bed.  I'd say about half the time he stays there through to the morning, but if gets up in the night to use the bathroom, he drifts back to sleep in my bed instead of his own.  This is okay, because by the time 3am rolls around, I've had reasonably enough time to starfish around by myself, and since he's just gone pee, the odds of being woken up by a 4-year-old wetting my bed are low.  Also when I wake up in the morning I roll over and see this:

Sleepy Gabey 5/5/10
Gabriel is actually in his own bed here, you'll note the Spider-Man sheets, but you get the idea.

It's a strong selling point.


This sleep business! 

We've generally got it all sorted out, after years of back and forth and struggle and lots of whining on both our parts.

But here's something that's totally not sorted out:
Sometimes Gabriel will sit up and start yelling or crying or just talking or whatever, and still be asleep.  I'm a sleep talker, so I understand, fine.
You wanna know what's not fine?
When Gabriel comes to my bed to sleep, and then, after I've re-deadened to the world, sits bolt upright and punches me in the face.
In his sleep.

Advice is welcome.

24 May 2010

Buying My Happiness

My mom got me to stop sniffling pathetically about my car by paying for the UNHOLY OHMAHGAWD expensive Kaplan test prep course that I wanted to take but couldn't really afford and then my car broke and it just made me BURST INTO TEARS BECAUSE OH THE HUMANITY NOW I CAN NEVER TAKE IT AND I WON'T DO WELL ON MY TEST AND I'M GOING TO BE POOR FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND LIFE SUCKS AND THE WORLD IS ENDING.
So, she paid for it for me, which was beyond kind.
Also she agreed to watch Gabriel on Monday nights from June through August so I can go.

Eventually, I'll tell you what I'm doing with my life.

I don't wanna jinx it.

23 May 2010


My car is.....done being my car.

I need a new one, and now.
Not a NEW new one necessarily, but the reliable kind, since I'm obligated by custody agreement to pick my son up in Sacramento most Sundays.

I don't really need to tell you that I can't afford any of this, do I?

I mean, start with the obvious stuff like not finishing my tattoo any time soon and not buying stuff, but that's not going to be enough.  So then there's the stuff I REALLY don't want to do, like revert to making minimum payments on my credit card, cut out the extra contributions that I make to my retirement account, drain my savings account, stop putting new money in there, yeah.  I can afford car payments?  I guess? 

But I kind of liked the version of my life where I improved my financial situation, and got out of debt.

I've spent the better part of this weekend crying intermittently, and giving myself a headache, and who knows, probably an ulcer.

Since the Car Fairy isn't likely to visit any time soon, I guess I just need to choke on all of it and fling myself into more debt. 

21 May 2010

I love my whole family

I love my whole family

He asked me, "Could you write 'I love my whole family' so the ocean and the people and Batman will know that I love my family?"

And I, naturally, said yes.

19 May 2010

Local Knitters/Crafters Group?

When I lived in Chico, my friends and I got together on Sunday nights to knit (or crochet!),  drink wine (or beer!), and gossip. 

In SC, I have no such group.  I also haven't picked up my knitting in over a year.  And my sewing machine is disappearing under cobwebs.

(Can you tell wear this is going?)

I'd like to organize a crafters' social hour type thing.  I know right off the bat that I'm not going to be able to commit to doing it weekly, so I was thinking every other week, or perhaps once a month.
And this is me feeling out levels of interest, as well as general availability.

So if you are local to the SC area, or localish, please email me at grace! at! missdisgrace! dot! com! and lemme know.
Also if you have certain nights of the week that are more free than others.
Also if you're on facebook and we're not friends there, lemme know, cuz if I get this going, I'll probably do a facebook group to keep everyone in the loop.
Also if you have fabulous ideas, etc.
Also I love you.
Also feel free to forward this around.

Thank you!

18 May 2010

Diptych - Familiar

Great minds think alike, right?  Of course, Kellee has pretty manicured hands, and I have pudgy fists of dough, but whatevs.
I'm really curious to see what other people did this week.
Diptychs! Explanation right here.
Magical Kellee right here.
Next week:  juicy!
Link below.
Comment with love.

Unsolicited Random Factsheet

*I own seven Little Black Dresses. I know, kill me.  Or better yet, take me to a cocktail party.  I make fabulous conversation, I smell nice, and I can hold my liquor.

*Number of times I have spent the night on a sidewalk: 2
*Number of times I have spent the night in a train or bus station: 6
*Number of times I have shared a hostel room in Spain with a Swedish garbage man I met that afternoon: 1

*I take my coffee with an almost imperceptible amount of honey, and a generous serving of soy milk.  If honey is not available, then no sweetener.  Likewise if someone else will be adding the honey, because it will be too much, and I would rather go without.

*I never looked good in a bikini, even when I was rib-counting tiny.

*Number of times I have been married: 0
*Number of people I have agreed to marry: 3

*I sink, in the water.  I know how to swim, but I'm just not...buoyant at all?  I'm telling you, I sink.

*I have weirdly short calves, in proportion to the rest of my body.

*Number of States-Not-California in which I have resided: 0
*Number of times I have seriously and genuinely considered moving out of state, with specific cause and purpose: 4

*I have been in seven car accidents, and they were all my fault.

*I sneeze in direct sunlight.

*Since becoming a legal adult, I have broken/sprained/torn the ligaments in/TOTALLY FUCKED one or both of my feet/ankles six times.

*My right hand is the product of over $10,000 worth of late 80's plastic surgery.

*I haven't seen my beloved iPod for approximately 3 months, but I'm still stubbornly clinging to the idea that it's 'misplaced' as opposed to 'lost'.

*I have a thing for zombie movies.

*My thumbs are completely different shapes.  One does that swoopy thing, and one is straight.

17 May 2010

Dairy & Bra Shopping! Together for the First Time!

Okay so I know that the eating of cheese and the buying of bras are generally unrelated but for me, right now, they are totally intertwined in such a way where when I'm trying to tell you about my newfound dairy intolerance I can't do it without talking about bras, and I can't talk about how much I hate bras without talking about dairy.  AND I WANT TO TELL YOU! ABOUT BOTH!  So we're slamming these together, for my sanity.  Thank you and you're welcome.


Late last year I started having bizarre food/health issues.  And....I started puking?  All the time?
It was really weird, because I'm totally not a puker, and I'm generally a pretty healthy person.  It took me months to specifically isolate the problem, but on Christmas Eve of ought nine I drank a tall glass of milk and immediately vomited.  At that point I started thinking back and there was a clear line to be drawn between dairy consumption days and puking days.  They were the same days, you see.  
That really sucks.
It's one thing if dairy gives you a tummy ache, because maybe that's a risk you're willing to run.  It's entirely another if macaroni and cheese leaves you retching on the bathroom floor.
I've lapsed a couple times, but always with extremely unpleasant vomiting results (a strong motivator), so 2010 has essentially been dairy free.  Did you know that it's a lot easier to go to a restaurant and get something without meat than it is to get something without dairy?
It sucks.
Also, people keep referring to me as a vegan.  I'd say my willingness to eat cows invalidates that label, but whatevs.


So! No cheese! That sucks! Balls!
You know what I can eat that doesn't make me sick?
American Cheese!
I'm sure its molecular structure more closely mirrors wax than food.
But sometimes you really, REALLY want to eat something cheesy and delish. 
And I can eat American Cheese.
(Also cheddar & sour cream Ruffles.)
I'm not about to head out and stock up on Velveeta slices, but it's nice to know that when I'm hungover and crabby, I can still get my signature grilled cheese with bacon and avocado, with a side of breakfast potatoes. 
Thank the sweet lord baby jesus, etc.


I can't eat cheese, I've lost some weight.  These things are bound to happen.
And weightloss, I'm for it, in a general sense.  Except that, hey!  Where did my boobs go again?  I can't seem to find them.  Strange because my PANTS seem to be the same SIZE and TIGHTNESS, but my boobs are lost and drowning inside of their capacious molded cups.  The bra that I wear (since discontinued, but when it existed it was the VS full coverage uplift bra), while not PADDED, is definitely THICK, and STRUCTURED, so it's not like it forms to my smaller boobs.  With a t-shirt on my bra is still taking up the same amount of space, making my ta-tas look roughly the same size.
It finally got to a point a couple weeks ago where my sad little bewbs were swimming around in my too-big bras and ENOUGH! I had had enough!  I took myself bra shopping.
Megan recommended the VS Naked Bras, which are what I bought (two of them) and I quite like them.  They are appropriately structured/supportive, without being all KAPOW and full of padding.


So my boobs.  They fall somewhere respectably in between fabulously perky cheerleader and African refugee.  They're not without flaws, but they're pretty okay, most of the time.  
The thing about padded bras is this:  It's always the bottom part of the bra cup with the padding, which, for me, is horrible.  Cuz it just sort of pushes my boob OUT of the bra and weirdly into the middle in such a way where my my nipple might make a jump for freedom AT ANY MOMENT.  It's neither comfortable nor flattering.  I don't go for padded bras.
Of course, I also don't like those bras that are like, a single piece of flimsy fabric strung over some wire.  because my boobs, like I said, they aren't perfect. They they require some SUPPORT, dammit.
It is incredibly, mind-bogglingly difficult to find a bra that is structured and lined and whatever without being MIRACLE WONDER MAGIC BRA I MAKE YOUR BOOBIES LOOK STRANGE. 
What's with that, bra makers? 
I'm certain I'm not the only one.
Make more normal bras, fewer creepy ones.

14 May 2010

Friday Here and Theres

Perhaps you've gathered from the tone of ANGST that's been peppering my writing of late:  I've been feeling restless with (honestly just a small) touch of GLOOM AND DOOM.  The reasons are the expansive kind that I'm not really ready to explore here and now, although I am taking up the conversation elsewhere.
Life choices!
I have to make some!
(Don't worry, once I work it out a bit more, I'm sure I'll talk about it here too.)
It's just that WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE conversations always make me feel like a giant fucking Douche Canoe.
Wah Wah Wah listen to me with my FEELINGS.  Puke.
(Although I like reading about YOUR feelings! Don't take that the wrong way, k?)
I'm treating my current state of VERKLEMPT with the generous salve of retail therapy. I don't care two figs what it says about me or my Traditional American Consumerism or my Shallow Character or my Human Weakness.  Spending money on the Acquisition of Stuffs makes me feel better.
It makes me happy just PRETENDING to buy stuff!
Plus look at my new (thrifted) dress:

Free People Sundress

And my new (new) shirt:

New Green Shirt

And my new (gifted) hat:

New Hat

It's impossible to be anything BUT cheerful with a hat like that.
I'm smiling just thinking about it.
On Tuesday morning Maria told me I should fly out to Florida for Memorial Day Weekend.
And why not?
Flights were cheap that morning, and I have a credit with Continental that expires in July, and really, why not?
But I had to clear it with Gabriel's dad, and with my boss.
Not three hours later, having jumped those hurdles, airline ticket prices had nearly doubled.
No Florida.
Or at least, no Florida right this minute.
Someday Florida.
I could REALLY use a beachy vacation.
This week was the second that I've had half day Wednesdays as a part of my new schedule.  It's really, really nice.
Although I'm still playing errand running catch up on my Wednesdays.
My hope is that eventually I'll get to a space where Wednesday afternoon means midweek, midday NAP.
I have a table full of crap that I have to return to various stores.
Working on it.
Awhile/Aways back one of my friends came over and explained my DSLR to me, using simple language and small words, all the better for me to grasp the concepts with my tiny little mind.  Since, yknow, I never bothered to read the manual, and it's been a decade since my last photography class. And I was never very good at that stuff anyways.
Since then I've been making an honest attempt to really learn how to use the thing.
Results have not been terrible, but, well, results are mixed.
I'm toying with the idea of taking a photography class.
Or I can just keep reading about it on the interwebs?
Classes.....I'm....well here's the thing.
Though I love learning,
and despite the fact that I've always been good at school,
and even though I have more than my fair share of degrees to back up that claim,
for me,
classes take [FILL IN THE BLANK] subject matter, and make it the object of my absolute loathing.
It doesn't matter how great and inspiring the teacher is.
I have had amazing lecturers.
It's just that I hate homework, and it seems that professors always require some sort of Proof of Learning.
I hate papers you see.
Paper writing takes something good and pure and interesting and makes me rip it apart and make it entirely something else.
Book reports ruin books.
Why would I do that to something that I love?
Here's a picture of my tattoo.  Maybe you're tired of it, but I DON'T CARE.

P.S. My shoes are up at Jodifur's. Go see!