Fixing Mrs. Flinger Feb 20, 2015
I'm currently working on this website. I want to add back the links to blogs I love, some ways to find content easier, and put in archive, at last, some of the ancient articles. Come back to see updates.
101 reasons I think this baby will stick Oct 15, 2006
I know I’m only five weeks past the miscarriage but I feel weirdly optimistic. And sick. Very. Very Sick.
Here’s how I break it down:
Reason #1: Hormonal. Wheee! Care to join the “I’m so excited to be preg…. WTF ARE YOU DOING ON THE DVR! I SAID TO NOT STAND ON THE DVR! ... gawd I love my kid…” ride? ‘Cause I’d like off.
Reason #2: Stuff stinks. Bad. The house? Smells like ass. That beer you’re drinking? Also like ass. My Pad Tai? Totally like wet dog. I’m not kidding.
Reason #3: Ralph. I’m feeling slightly pukey. Excuse me but your beer is making me want to hurl (and I like beer).
Reason #4: Sore boobies. Damn. ‘Nuff said.
Reason #5-100: I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired. I. Am. Going. To. Die.
Reason #101: Why...
If poop is introspective, I’m freaking Budha. Oct 12, 2006
#Getting to know me#Good News#The Flinger Family#Depth and Faith
I have an unusual hobby. I enjoy listening to, contemplating, discussing the Big Picture. Every so often, I enjoy talking about the Big Topics. The “where do we go when we die” topics. The “is religion a way of man to cope with death or is death a way for man to come to religion?” You know, those types of issues that we’ll never have the answer to but can discuss in circles for an entire lifetime. It’s a cheap hobby and it never dries up.
My new life leaves little time for reflection. I’m no longer the 21 year old dreamer writing in her journal on Saturday afternoons. I’m not taking time between classes to sit and contemplate the universe. The biggest chunk of alone time I have is in the shower and by then I’m so intent on listening...
This is it Oct 06, 2006
We’re getting the We-Haul today. We’re loading it up while LB sleeps tonight and then finishing up a few bits tomorrow. Look for us swerving in a large U-Haul up the I5 corridor on Sunday yelling cusswords and demonstrating true white trash values. (read: unknowingly cutting off people, blaring the AM radio, drinking copious amounts of mountain dew.) We return to our tiny rented townhouse on Wednesday to clean and visit a few people before we leave town for good. I can’t tell you what this is doing to my emotions. I’m happy! I’m scared! I’m running around packing like a run away whore! I’m sitting on my ass doing designs because I’m in denial! I’m over using exclamation marks! AND CAPS!
LB is being adorable and wonderful and making me...
Shhh, I’m not here. Blogging from the cardboard boxes or a bathroom in Starbucks. Oct 03, 2006
I’m sneaking in to my website like a coke addict in a bathroom at some sleezy bar. Don’t tell anyone I’m here. I’m apparently burried under piles of boxes and begging for Verizon to get my DSL hooked up before next week. I’m selling out my soul, people. Verizon-whoreing. I am doing it anything to get the man with the switch-my-life-on access to just flip the damn switch already.
In the mean time, I’m here at Starbucks for ten minutes watching my kid throw muffin on the floor. To the people who work here: I AM SORRY. But I must blog.
There’s been this debate in my head for some time now. I’ve talked to a few people about it a little bit about it and then I went and signed up because everyone else is doing it, too. We’re talking about...