I forgot to post this like... I dunno a year ago? Maybe less. Who cares.

Anyone know how to do the username-switcheroo thing on here? I think there's a way to like, just make this thing have a different name... I seem to recall even paying the $5 for the "name change token" but maybe it expired by now...

In case I only imagined it and/or I never figure the bullshit out, add m3rma1d to yer friends-list thing... that's where I'll be from now on if I can't just get this one changed.. or decide not to... or more likely, procrastinate and put off doing it, even if someone DOES give me instructions... even really easy ones :-P

If one stays still, it's only so it can laugh at me & watch the other one move.



And laying them flat to photograph them made them look retarded.
So much, in fact, I may not admit it was my work if anyone saw those shots I scrapped.

*remembers to empty the "recycle bin" thingy*


I'll get it right, eventually.... but I made these the night before Roland's funeral, and I am trying to get better at showing things off, like, closer to when I've made them.

I've been teaching myself metalwork (Or whatever you wanna call it, and alotta other things that fall into the general "advanced jewelrymaking" category) for a little over a year now. (mostly sterling 'cos it's a personal fave)

Anyways....

4 new(ish) things (outta ten zillion.....)
Click to enlarge:





So... there's a LITTLE sample of what's been keeping me busy. I've got a heap more finished pieces to take pics of, and even more yet to be made (and yet more to learn, for that matter)....

But now you kinda get a little idea, anyways.

My friend Roland died this morning... I shouldn't just call him a "friend", he was more like a father to me... and I was like his "local daughter" until he moved to where (some of) his family is in Florida a year & 1/2 ago when he finally gave in and accepted that he was terminally ill... and even then, he'd do what HE thought was protecting me by telling me he was getting better, and having this treatment, and *always* waiting for "the new test results in two weeks".. so maybe he never really WAS more terminally ill than all of us are.

Of course I've visited with him quite a few times since he moved, me and The Love Interest would almost always shoot over to see him when I was down for a visit. Weirdly, the first time they met, The Love Interest was up here visiting me near Christmas, and so we ended up being the ones to take Roland to the airport to leave Maine. That was a harder night than I ever really talked about.... To me, the end of "Maine Roland" was sort of a realization and maybe a sudden reluctant acceptance that sooner (rather than way later like I always imagine people I love dying) would be the end of "Roland Altogether"...

I went to see him just 6 days ago, after being down there a month trying to set up plans but having them fall through because he was really becoming too sick to have company/be seen in some of the states he was in at times/recognize anyone. But his family did know the importance of us visiting once more while it was possible, even if the quality wasnt there. They called while we were only a bit into the hour & 1/2 trip over to St. Pete, warning me that he was really slipping mentally, more than before maybe, and please try not to be upset if he didn't recognize me... Apparently he was sort of living in a dream-like state of WAY back when he was in his 30s in Pennsylvannia. I almost panicked at the last minute when we hit Tampa, all of a sudden just scared of the unknown, wondering was I really helping either me or Roland doing this visit, but I knew I had The Love Interest's shirt sleeve to dampen on the ride back if I needed to, so I just pretended to read an article on torches over and over.

We walked in, and I heard my name come from him. No, he didn't just say it, he performed it in that sing-song tone he always announced me in. It was a very suble thing, but I always knew the sound, and it always made me feel safe & loved. As tattered and hollow as his voice sounded to anyone else in the room perhaps, I fucking treasured that sound at that moment more than anyone could have. He stretched his arms out and I hugged him, so fucking relieved he was really "him", and he knew me. He was glad to see The Love Interest as well, he really took him into his heart from the moment they met, which was weird because he was always the "dad on the porch with a shotgun" to all the other boyfriends I presented him with.

It was particularly hot weather that day, and we were all sort of trying to explain it to him since he had to walk out to the car to be taken off to a hospice center to stay (which he was, dare I say, so adorably fucking cranky about... under better circumstances it might have been a sitcom)

At one of those akward "silent moments in a room of people" moments, without turning to look at me, Roland said,
"Don't cry..... Don't cry, Ann-Marie. Ok? Don't you cry, now."
Until then I never realized that I COULD hold it together, that I actually WASNT going to lose it and burst into tears.
"Ok, Roland... I won't. But I may sweat a lot, ok?"
"Well, yeah."

We walked him to the car, his real daughter & my Love Interest holding up his now-tiny weak body. There was a rustle in the bushes, and two black beady eyes were quite fixated on his every move... It was Chief, a squirrell that he'd trained to sit on his lap and eat peanuts from his hand while smoking out on the front steps. You'd have had to have seen it to really believe it, but that little furball knew that he ws going away, and wanted to see him off, it was really cool/sad.

Christ, I coulda typed up a better thing about the great times we had over 10 years, rather than the last 15 minutes we shared. Oh well.

So, I'll fly down for his service in a couple weeks. And isn't that a kick in the pants, after being down there a month.... A MONTH!!!! No really folks, don't roll your eyes reading that, it's TRUE Roland fashion. And you now understand why we were close.

But really... a fucking month.

I swear: There's gin in heaven, Roland's drunk for the first time in 2 years, and he's laughing his ass off at me about this one.
We're good like that.

Good night, old man.

Just about to jump in the shower before we take off for the airport. I've been down here in Florida at my boyfriend's house for about 1 day short of a month now. We had a nice extended visit, but how retarded! I mean, most people know better than this... It's usually Floridians invading New England during these hot-ass Summer days. But nope, I end up doing it ass-backwards, practically sweating my tits off.

Well, time for me to go conserve water... (By showering with a partner, of course!)




Oh, but-as if I'd forget this little gem before I sign off....

Happy 5th of July!
*wink*

"There was a young boy in the room, of course he showed up in pajamas."






The trouble with being quiet as far as the keyboard (ie: livejournal, buggeroff, the odetospammy crowd on yahoo, or just chatting with online chums on IM or whatever) is that... you don't get archived.

But goddammit.. I SWEAR I've said (like, to people in real life.. try it!) for MONTHS now, that it was gonna come down to something like this:

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,149992,00.html

BUT NOW FOX NEWS STOLE MY IDEA!! AND I CANT SUE THEM COS I WAS TOO BUSY LIVING IN REAL LIFE!!!


That'll learn me.

Goodbye...

I'm really sad about this. Not entirely surprised, but sad.

But what god-awful timing..

Sandra Dee's death* has been overshadowing his--at least on most of the local and national tv news reports.. If he'd had the foresight, I wonder if it might have made him think twice?

Then again, I can kinda see that as sorta like a quirky side-scenario from anything he'd write, too.





*Thus leaving Sally Field and myself to duke it out for the throne... but fuck her, man! I'M GIDGET!

Fuck Santa, he's a total ped anyways. I know who I'm gonna write a letter to.....

Dear God,
I think that for the good of all mankind, something's gotta be done about the shitstorm known as... well, right around the time haloween ends, until about march or so when the last of the decorative lights not wanting to count as "year-round" come down.

First off, Aren't you sick of yer brat kid getting all the attention? I mean sure, he walked on water and rose from the dead--but hello!? I mean, you created all the materials!

Not just that--look at what people turn into at this time of year. The concern used to be that people were becoming greedy monsters, concerned only with what THEY were going to get.

"I want that, get it for me. If anyone truly loves me, they will buy me this thing!"

But weirdly, I think that a far larger and perhaps unspoken problem is the amount of people who spend far beyond their means in order to win this contest of perfection that's so out of hand this point, it may have honestly turned itself inside out for the worse.

"Who's watching..OOH See? I got the best present for this person, I am so kind. See?? LOOK! I'm giving it to them, rent can wait another 3 months!"

Cripes, that's so much worse than any self-centered whiney jerk any day!
Greed, as bad as it is, isn't FAKE. More of an instinct. We want to survive, and make more little versions of ourselves. We want the big piece of chicken. The shineyest car that will attract a suitable mate. Once, I wanted a talking PeeWee doll, and my Uncle Harland and Aunt Lisa promised it to me, but I got some crappy bath gel basket nonsense.

Anyways look, I have more examples than... well, I have alot. But my point....

I think this has not only gone on for far, far too long, but the fact that it's just worse and worse, why can't the bastard prove what a leader he is and turn this insanity bus around!?

There's only one thing to do, God:

It's time for you to spank Jesus, and take away his birthday.

Regards,
Ann-Marie Keene

P.S.--to ensure that this letter isn't coming off as too overly critical in regards to your work, I'd like to give a heartfelt thanks to you in regards to the design of the human body. Ingeniusly, you planned out that no matter what age or size a human is, (so long as they aren't unfourtunately deformed) the measurements, in relation to each other, will always permit that fingers will insert perfectly into noses.

HAPPY FESTIVUS!

Cripes.

For 10 days in Florida, all I heard were local news reports talking about the record low temps, and people freaking out about keeping warm. OMG people, when it's 40 outside and you need a sweater, is NOT the end of the world.

I arrived home yesterday to snow blowing around in temps of 10. THIS is cold.

I miss lows of 40s already!

Happy Birthday, Saffron.


I love you.

the_pilchard is the best online-dad a girl could ever ask for.

Thank you.

This gives me chills, I want it so bad:
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&rd=1&item=3766388339&ssPageName=STRK:MEWA:IT

Lynda sells a lot of her signed art on there under that seller-name, but this is the first piece I've seen one that's gone beyond the normal "I want that, she rules." for me...... It's just.... oh my.

I bid 3 times upon spotting it yesterday. but never got above the other person's high bid, and so now I'm backing off (I aint said I won't try again, but any good sniper knows to disappear long enough to encourage the high bidder to let down their guard a bit.)

I wonder how high I should go?

I mean.. Do I really *need* groceries/phone/tv/electricity/an apartment anymore?

Here's a nice story showcasing the rampent retardation in Auburn, Maine. It's actually a place here in Maine that I happened to live quite near for a very substantial amount of my life...(And since it --and it's next-door partner in trash, Lewiston Maine) were collectively the cloest thing to a city we had for miles & miles, I sometimes marvel that I came out of all of it ok... seriously.)

In fact, one foster home I lived in (complete with drunken mother and suicidal dad-you know, to replicate that "real home" feel) actually got alot of food from this place, and it was always very bad. Moldy, stale, sometimes rotting, and well... you know, just bad. They need more funding, and piss and moan about it CONSTANTLY on the news ever since I can remember eating their shit, and that was over 15 years ago.

Then this happens:

Marijuana found in shipment to food bank

http://www.wmtw.com/Global/story.asp?S=2645115&nav=7k6sBt1n

AUBURN (AP) - Drug agents are investigating how a 20-pound bale of marijuana got mixed in with a truckload of watermelons that were delivered to the Good Shepherd Food Bank in Auburn.

A volunteer came across the marijuana while picking through the watermelons Thursday afternoon. The man told the Sun Journal of Lewiston that the pot was neatly wrapped with packing tape and loaded near the front end of the tractor-trailer.

When Maine Drug Enforcement Agency agents arrived, the bale had been unloaded and the truck driver was gone.

Investigators say they suspect a drug trafficker in Mexico loaded the pot and either forgot about it or was forced to abandon the shipment.

The Good Shepherd Food Bank distributes food to more than 470 food pantries and soup kitchens in Maine.

"Oh nos! Someone put a huge bag of drugs in a crate of rotting watermelons! I better call Johnny Law, and then pray for the bad people to get caught and repent!"

Why why WHY DID THEY FUCKING PISS ON SUCH A CHANCE!?
All they needed to do was just keep it quiet, and easily sell it to one of the scamming cunts on the recieving end of their services.
Coulda funded A VERY substantial amount of non-perishable foods to stock the shelves of that place with.

I am convinced, at this moment, that no one has a lick of sense anymore.
NOR do they truly care about whatever "cause" they wanna whine about and beg for money over.
Cunts.

So, the police came and took the weed.
Of course, Occifer PuffPuffPass is suffering from a case of the munchies and cannot be reached for comment until after his nap.

Crisis averted, and we'll get to hear "Oh please help us feed the neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedy welfare slobs because they've spent all their food stamps on malt-liquor 40s and big name label clothing!"

Happy Holi-daze.

I was walking with my sweetie in a pet store a couple weeks ago, when this little baby bird squaked at me... I picked him up, and he snuggled his head on my chest for a really long time (as luck would have it, he stopped just before the camera was taken out... feh!)

I really fell in love with him, though. Yup, I totally want one. I never really wanted a bird before.. Weirdly enough, my boyfriend's interest was peaked as well, and he's not even a typical pet-guy (He's great with animals, he just doesn't have any or go out of his way to get any... but he was asking questions and actually bought a book about parrots, THAT'S how cool this bird was!)

Click to enlarge, some are blurry so just deal with it :)

Visit Number 2
I had to say goodbye, since I was flying home the next day :(




I can't stop thinking about this kickass birdie.. I miss him, and I don't know how I got so attatched.

I can't very well vote today, now can I?
Don't fret, y'all. I'da voted for Bush anyhoo, so most of you should be glad I did you the favor of forgetting to do an absentee ballot before I left!

This morning, I slept thru the delivery & installation of my sweetie's appliances, what kinda coma is that!?

Went to see Roland, he looked.. I dunno.
I'm glad we went to see him and took him out for a nice dinner.

We're going to see Carrot Top tomorrow, and I am not going to like, you know... be a groupie. :p
It was suggested that I should at least show him that I did indeed have the balls to get his autograph tattooed on like he said I wouldn't, but... oh well.

Right now we're going to go to this pet store we went to the other day. They have baby parrots that are very VERY cool, there's some pics of me with this one little guy, a 5 month old harlequin, who just glommed onto me the other day like no bird's ever done. Cripes, anyone got $1500? I want!!! Seriously, he was amazing. I'll try to remember to unload the pics after I get home.

Oh, I hope no one's trying to call me, I still aint got my fukken phone situation strait.

Time to be off... whaaaaaaaaaaa how come my time machine never works?

details

Are pliers allowed on planes?

I'm gonna assume cutting-types wouldn't be, but I wonder for flat, needle, or roundnose...

I can't find anything online where I can look it up without having to wade thru a buncha shite. They should have a better search engine feature on the homeland security page.

I'm checking this out... but I'm also, as usual, running late and doing 5,000 things at once.

Oh well.. I'll just have to stick with stringing and weaving stuff.

Click pics to enlarge!



First fishie-- domino damselfish (Toss, named for his job as "$3.99 fish for tossing in to test the waters who usually suffers the predictable -yet very noble- death.")


Giant Featherduster


Random hermit crab... just part of the cleanup crew


Especially for lincard: SNAIL PR0N!!!!



The Noble Toss :)

[ insert details of events and subsequential expolosion of feelings _here_. ]

Oh, yes we dit!


Too much emotions in me to talk right.

Spanked the yanks in their own goddamn house when we had the chance of... well, we didn't have one.. we just took it anyways.

How's THAT for fucking determined?

(Ooh, and it was My Johnny that belted out not only a grand slam, but then a 2-run homer to frost that fucking cake.)

OMFG THE YANKEES ARE SO PISSED!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Much going on..

Boyfriend's been here almost a week (But leaves tomorrow)

Been making alotta jewelry.. Seem to be on a freshwater pearl kick lately. And I'm getting really comfortable with the *real* sterling wire, too. Oh, and I'm soldering fairly well. (With the right stuff finally!)
I wanna try my hand at some lampworking, and PMC, among other shit.

Goddamn me and my pricy hobbies, I tell ya!! :P
Speaking of...

#1--
On my birthday back in June my darling had given me a coupon of sorts, redeemable for a new 55 gallon tank and some saltwater supplies (well- the stuff I didn't have, as alot of friends from the saltwater fishie forum I was once a very active member of gave me quite alot stuff to get me restarted when Crazy Bob killed my last saltwater tank 2 years ago..)
So we finally got started setting that up, it's not even full yet, 'cos we've been seriously busy (He got told by his boss on his way out of work to go to the airport that -surprise!- they wanted him to come up here for work. Iyeee!

#2--
I've had this bad cavity in a back tooth that for MONTHS now, I've had to manually clean the fucker out.
Well, I cleaned it out really well the other night, and with my boyfriend by my side, I attempted to put in some temporary filler stuff we'd found at wal*marK.

So, there we were in our hotel bathroom (A bit too near the door, as far as sound-traveling goes..)

"Ok, honey.." he said, handing over the little wooden stick with the small amount of filler stuff he'd prepared for me while I kept a Q-tip shoved in the hole, trying to keep it dry, "it says 'Push down as hard as you can."

The moment he said it, I did it, and the screaming and crying that followed make me wonder, in retrospect, why the police weren't called. I screamed -possibly- louder than any of the times I gave birth.

When I'd given it that really good cleaning, in order to ensure nothing would be stuck in there once the filler stuff was in, I think I actually ended up exposing a fucking nerve.

Needless to say, any accidental chewing on that side is basically resulting in more screaming and crying incidents. He tries to insist on taking me to an emergency dental place, but I tell him through the sobbing and shaking that no, I'm fine, I don't need to have it looked at..

Yeah, I'm retarded. And I bet half of you will be on the lookout for 'Dental Damn II', so count yerselves in with that accusation!



ANYWAYS..

I had a meeting yesterday, sort of a warmup for a big one in a couple days... I'll maybe tell more about that later if it's possible. 'Family Stuff'.


Oh, and it's been hard to type since I'm constantly chewing on my fucking hands over the battle my Boston boys are at with the Wankees to get in that World Series. Cripes, we're not just seriously holding on and fighting --We're finally trying to rise above! (Normally, we lay down and hand over the Astroglide which SUCKS) But anyways- NO team in baseball has EVER come back the way our guys did this week. We weren't expected to even have a game 5, now we've challenged the fuckers to the deciding 7th, which is tonight...

Believe!

I hope Napoleon aint shittin' me.

Christopher Reeve is no more.

I'm kinda shocked.. I sorta had this thought he'd forever be zipping around in that chair with messed up hair and slowly*, getting better :/

I told my boyfriend this, who said, "Paraplegics have that sort of thing happen all the time, honey. Even if they eat babies."

hahahaha I love him.


*(I mean REALLY slowly.. moving a leg once in a while, standing up once a year or something)

Has anyone seen these fucking TV ads from Yoplait?

You save your yogurt lids and send them in (people call ME o.c.d.?), then they give .10 cents to So-N'-So's Bbreast Cancer Foundation.

Ok, I'll look past the OBVIOUS here, which is: Why not give money to causes anyways you dumb shits? And at that whopping .10 cents a LID... wow, what--I'd assume that's going to pay for the poor sod who gets minimum wage to open these packages of rancid-smelling dairy-film-coated folded up tinfoil in a dimly-lit mailroom someplace? He sure loves his life, I'm sure. I hope you pay out to his family when they find him hanging with a note nearby.

No, no... I won't touch on that.

I also WONT suggest, that rather than condemning poor Fred the Mail Guy to yet ANOTHER meaningless day/reason to end it -when the company has ALREADY agreed to pay a certain amount of money to the charity ANYways- (oh, yes, they don't tell you that) that, INSTEAD, you could walk your ignant azz over to a local hospital, meet with someone in the the HR dept., and inquire about if you could volunteer in the cancer ward and offer nail-painting services to brighten some unfourtunate woman's day (Try to stay off hair topics, I think) but...just..SOMETHING useful --Nope! Ok, now see? I've gone too far- I'm shutting up on that!

No. My issue is... the slogan at the end of the stupid-idead commercial. Do people give a shit about what they say at all anymore? Can't Yoplait take out like $5.00 of that Cancer-Lid money and buy a thesaurus to come up with the right words to hit people?

Apparently not, because today I was informed:
"Together, we can lick breast cancer."

No, thank you.
The brain tumor I had earlier was just *so* filling.

But maybe -just as a favor to me- you might consider sucking a testicular mass, though.


(Just push the New York Yankees aside!!)
:-)

Man, I get so nervous over the stupidest shit. I REALLY wanna go to this jeweler's supply shop and pick up some stuff I need as well as some stuff I'd like to kinda play with/teach myself, whatever you wanna call it... I don't learn like other people, I have fun with it and just figure it out on my own.

It's like some people who know things, especially in the ways of "how to"s just can't STAND not to let people live happily not knowing the things *THEY* know.

.... but man, I also really hate "May I help you?"s. ESPECIALLY when coupled with the "Haw. Haw haw haw, you sure don't seem to know what you're talking about, little miss, so I'll assume you're probably doing that all wrong, you *should* do it *this* way, with *these*!" sales pitches.

I can't deal with that.

Well, not in a way that's groovy for all involved, anyways. I know, yer thinking "Whoo! Yeah damn right! Give 'em hell!" but it's more like I want to fucking slit my veins and watch the humiliation and embarrassment flow out with the blood as I slowly just shrivel to death.

In fact, I'd consider going in and acting like a deaf mute as I've been known to do in several shops, but I can't because I wanna tell them (somehow tactfully) how bad their web page is, and how they should let me have a nice amount of free supplies in exchange for making it look less like the care-free days of 1996.

Khrissakes, at LEAST a shopping cart!

..and maybe... pictures of the merchandise?

Think about it, I'd like to see how well a store would do if there were a very small amount of actual merchandise on their shelves, but replacing the merchandise, they scrawled the names of items on post-it notes and hap-hazardly stuck them around, then you'd pay money for that word on a pieve of paper, and wait for the actual thing to arrive in the mail...

Yeah that'd work.

And before anyone suggest that I battle any attempt they make at telling me I'm stupid/unknowledgeable about new jewelry techniques I'm learning/want to learn by quickly snapping back that their web page is going to be discovered and unearthed by archaeologists next week, don't suggest it to me. I don't do well in these situations, I told you.

People don't believe me when I say I'm shy.
"You're so loud and crazy and silly and fun!", they protest.

I only do that when I'm too shy to even let on about my shyness.

A business offer, for people who struggle when it comes to minding their own business lately.

I was going to get married yesterday.

Some things happened long before those plans started... they changed the wedding plans, and really my whole life.

I met a guy online last June through camwhores.com (shut up, seriously)

It started as such an innocent friendship, but for reasons I guess can only be descibed in cliches that people roll eyes at unless they've had it happen...
We became inseperable.
We fell in love.

There were a few slight snags in our quickly-found deep affections, of course. The first being that we live on opposite ends of the East Coast; He in Florida, and I in Maine. That's the small snag. The bigger snaggy issue was another girl from camwhores.com sitting in the mid-west that he was in a relationship with before I came along. A relationship that didn't end when I came along.

Against everything I thought I'd ever stood for, I knowingly lived my life as a role I never expected to find myself in. I was "The Other Woman."

We made secret instant-messenger accounts and every single night spent hours talking with our webcams on. (shut up again, seriously.)

Webcams play a part in our relationship so hugely that I can't even really describe it. Only we *really* know what they mean to us.

Now I KNOW what pops into most people's head when they think of the word webcam. And sure, we DO use it to have a sexlife with one-another but no differently than most healthy heterosexual relationships (other than mostly not in-person). Mainly we viewed each other through the technology as though we were just hanging out in-person, face to face.

We watch Red Sox games, have dinner together, watch movies... In fact, name any normal, maybe even mundane thing, and we've probably done it on cam.

And the little mundane things weren't so mundane. I can't begin to get the point accross that we just genuinely enjoyed each other's company more than anything.

But, I still tried so hard to blow it off as nothing major. Just a really, really intense "fling". I argued with myself constantly trying to convince my own head that I wasn't going to expect much to come from this... when my head kept trying to scream back at me, it was more than certainly a huge factor in my immediate love of a drug I was introduced to at a party in July called Crytal Meth.

It was almost a paralell of sorts... I'd never fallen for a man so DEEPLY, and SO quickly. I'd never fallen for a drug in that way either.

True love? SO true was this feeling, that I didn't so much even feel the needs I'd felt with lesser relationships to "flaunt" it (Beyond the fact we had to be secretive, I mean here that it actually took quite some time for me to even begin discussing it with my closest, trusted, lifelong friends. Even now that it's "out", there's so much that's stayed just between us.)

Then there was that drug thing. Trust me, I've put just about every single chemical into myself you can dream up, in combinations and dosage levels that I dare say could probably even penetrate the tolerance level of Keith Richards and get him at least a head buzz. None of the former intoxicants grabbed me like that had. And much like my relationship, it also has alot of details that never have or will be fully disclosed.)

In my now-drug-induced confusion, I happened to start talking regularly to another guy online, one in Australia, Land of Ann-Marie's Fantasies. I took the oppourtunity to try and jump the fuck away from BOTH of my newly found treasured loves, and hopped into a relationship with this man named Malcolm.
I did it all.. Public flaunting, drugged-out goofy flirting, and soon a trip there to meet. I tried so hard to make it real, sadly soon realizing I didn't even *like* this person, but I had to do *something*, right?

He was so very enamoured with me, so head-over-heels, completely catering to my every want and need. It was something that while I may not have wanted from him, was certainly doing better than all of my past shitty boyfriends, so what could be the harm? I faked it, I took a ring, I lived a lie.

I thought it was the right thing for everyone. Everyone except me.




I am glad I took the steps, however bad some of their consequenses still are to this day, to live my life honestly.

I am very glad I didn't get married yesterday.


To Be Continued...

--To a few who know the answer, please don't give it away!!--



Poll #354573 shutter bugs
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 26

Recently, I spent a couple days taking pictures of these dragonflies... wanna guess where the shoot took place?

Or maybe it was....

Click 'em to make 'em bigger...
***Hint: Order a print... Order a print... Order a print... Order a print...

My sweetie had to go to a shelter and was there all through the day, and is (hopefully) sound asleep there now.

The power went out sometime in the afternoon there, jesus I hope he brought some books..

It was hard to communicate because everytime he finally managed to get a call thru, the signal would cut out not long into the conversations..

I don't think we got our "I love you"s on the last two calls :-(

He did manage get one picture sent:

*eep*

I'm sad. I feel like a lost puppy right now.

I hope you're sleeping ok, baby.
I also hope you can go home when you wake up, and that when you do, everything is ok there.
I wonder if you heard about this hillarity!? Kevin Brown (New York Wankee pitcher) had a spazz-out after losing and broke his hand punching a wall BWAHAHAHAHA!!
I love you.

Dear Hurricane Frances,

While I'd like to thank you for changing your mind just before landing on my boyfriend's front lawn, (I told you the chainsaw was scary!) I think maybe you could have considered backing down BEFORE my flight was cancelled.
I've had The Emotional Week From Hell, and I was really counting on a little sun and a lotta sex to make everything a bit better.
So, I sit here pale enough to glow in the dark, and undersexed to the point I'm winking at doorknobs for yet another week.

Grrrr,
Ann-Marie Keene

it's a week where everything is evolving into something worse.

The mildly annoying soon becomes downright irritating.
Downright irritating shifts to just plain hurtful.
Just plain hurtful turns into near-fatal.

I can honestly say that what it's taking for me to be leaving my house today would put most people in the hospital.


Who knows, maybe I'll meet ya there.

Dear Hurricane Frances,

You've already reduced my chances for a tan this weekend, but if you eliminate my plans altogether, I'm going to ummm.. Well, I'll probably get seriously angry.
That's not a good thing, because remember, I did get a chainsaw for my birthday.

Sincerely,
Ann-Marie Keene

sorry it took so long:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/spam_princess/134139.html

To: m3rma1d@creativespill.com
From: "Amazon.com" <auto-response@amazon.com>
Subject: "Golden Girls: Season 1 (3pc)" (DVD)


Greetings from Amazon.com.

You previously signed up to be notified when "Golden Girls: Season 1
(3pc)" (DVD) became available, and we're happy to inform you that it is
now available for pre-order.

Enjoy,

Your Friends at Amazon.com



*peeing all over the place*

So there you have it! Apparently, there is a reason for living after all.

I went to buy printer ink. It was gonna be $60.
I looked over and saw they were selling the printer I own for $70.
I don't understand it. And out of some sorta going-nowhere-protest, I'm still inkless.

I went to Old Navy the other day. I'm digging my new size of 10, but am increasingly aware of this drawback:

The more average your size becomes, the less deals you will find on clearance racks.

So I tried on the hottest jeans ever, but decided not to get them 'cos they were full price (I'm not a Jew, I'm broke.)

And anyways, the vet keeps sending notices saying I'm a bad animal owner for not taking my cats to get their annual shots. (They're indoor cats! But still, I know, I know.)

I got home and checked my email, where I had a coupon from the Old Navy spam that I signed up for a while back...

Of course.
I get a coupon for Old Navy the minute I come home from having been there.
And worse yet, I can't print the goddamned thing out.


The Jeans That Aren't.

Now, before you say "Aw man, poor Spammy! That stinks!" read this Old Navy story. (I've even been to the very one where this incident took place! I ran to the TJ Maxx when I had to take a _wicked_ shit... Naturally. I have Common Sense!)

I HATE pill-bottle cotton. Most anyone who knows me knows that I can scrape my nails on a chalkboard while chewing on tin-foil for days at a time, but if I have to touch the cotton that comes out of a newly-opened pill bottle, I will nearly end up in a padded cel, rocking back & forth. The stuff just bothers me.
I opened a new bag of cotton balls this evening, and I almost fucking fell over crying when I realized I'd somehow purchased a whole bag of the cotton used to stuff pill-bottles.

Yesterday, my friend Alison called me, and we spent the day shopping, talking, and goofing around.

Alison, (aka 'Ms. A') was the art teacher when I was at The Bad Kids' School, so I've known her quite some time. We've always been really close, though. More than just techer/student... The fact that I spent more time in the art room than in my regular classes was always a fight between me and the teachers & staff, but I did what I fucking had to, and I still don't regret it. I don't think she does, either. She was the only adult in my life that came close to a 'parent', and we both knew it.


She went to meetings and advocated for me when I had no voice in matters.
She told me to avoid boys.
She taught me things about life that can't really be worded properly, but were important lessons.
She threw me one helluva Sweet-Sixteen party..


Anyway, her husband got offered a relocation at work, so she moved away to Florida back in '94, but has a cottage up here, so we've always gotten together in the summertimes since then. Except last year when I couldn't find her--Which was SUPREMELY discouraging because since last October, I find myself in Florida a lot..

But I tracked her down and she called me back, so all is well again. I found out that she moved to Connecticut, and at the same time couldn't find me. Now, since she's not living as far away, she'll be at her cottage for little bits when it's not Summer, so we'll be able to see each other more often, which is excellent.



We had a great time yesterday, just being all girly. Shopping & talking, that kinda stuff...

While doing the "remember whens", I learned some things... I guess she decided I was old enough to know the truth about some stuff.

See, I had always been privy to some things that went on behind-the-scenes at The Bad Kids' School, but yesterday she told me some pretty shocking things that went on pertaining more directly to me... I won't get into all of it here, I guess.. I'll just say it's no fucking wonder I didn't trust many adults at that time. There were some that I seemingly had no reason not to trust and didn't, and I now know why I felt how I did.

Lesson learned: Never ignore your gut instincts.


She's got a great little Springer Spaniel puppy, Jack. Well, he's her husband's doggie, but she has him since he's at work in the daytime. There was some kinda lame orthopedic shoe store she wanted to browse, so I took the puppy outta the Volvo and we hung out for a little while on a little patch of lawn by a sidewalk being silly and rolling around together. He was a real sweetie, and I don't normally say that about dogs..


We took Jack to Fort Williams at the end of the day, his first trip to the ocean. He was scared shitless of the tide when it rushed in at him, it was really funny to watch.


It was a really great day.

Apparently he forgot to delete that one.