The best of craigslist.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/all/


A link to the best of craigs list. If you got some time to kill cause your bored, this is a great place to do it.

Um.. so this is a tad strange to be blogging about.. but

But i just found it too weird to talk to my friends about, so i thought that i would write about it instead. You know, some times you need to get things out to process them, and talking about it may just not be easy. So, thats when you blog. Some people write a journal, but i blog instead, what can i say...

OK, heres the deal. My brother, as some of you know, died when i was 12. As im sure you can imagine, it was, shall i say, the suck -- to put it eloquently. So, well.. i have always known, or have known, since my brother died, that when he was only a young teenager he had a baby that he and the mother put up for adoption. You know how you can put your contact name on the adoption information, so if the kid ever wants to contact his family he can? Well, after my brother died, my mom contacted the adoption agency to make sure her name was on the form, so if my brother's kid ever went looking for his family he wouldnt end up empty handed when he got to his dad's side.
Well.. the other day my mom gets a call from said agency, and sure enough, like a million years after the fact, this "kid" who of course is no longer a kid by any means (in fact he HAS kids - or at least one) has contacted the agency and wants to reach my mom. Long story short, of course its long already, he calls her, and they talk. Not only do they talk, but it turns out he has Face book, and they become friends on face book. So. Here is where i stand. This is the message on face book that i sent him:
Hi..

So, i sat, staring at my computer screen, trying to decide what the hell i should write to my new found nephew. i started with something funny. i erased it. Then i wrote something serious. i erased that too. i guess i just find the whole thing just a little surreal (as im sure you do as well), and for one of the few times in my life, i wasnt quite sure what to say. Hi, My name is Tiresa, and .. we're related. Well... thats what i have settled on. Hi my name is Tiresa, and were related. Wait, didnt i say that already?
im 31, i am currently living in Omaha. i was born in Winnipeg, raised in Brandon, and moved to Vancouver when I was 14. i went to school, was valedictorian of my high school graduating class, took some time off, worked, went to college, then university, graduated and then married and moved to california when i was 29. i dont have kids, i have cats -- its easier to beat them with out getting in trouble. i work with at risk youth, which is the best birth control in the world. My husband is in the Air Force, which is how i ended up in the states. We've been married for 2 years and 3 months. His name is christopher, and he just deployed.
i pretend that i am a musician. In truth i play infrequently and im not very good (but dont tell anyone, it would shatter my dreams). i am more tattooed than everyone I associate with in Omaha put together, but thats easy 'cause there's only one tattooed person here that i know, and she has a tiny cookie monster on her shoulder blade (albeit cute). i like granola and yogurt, hot wings, KD, anything thats BBQ'ed, and love to sing along to the radio at the top of my lungs in the car when no one is looking. And, i hate capitalizing the letter i in a sentence when refering to myself, and i rarely use aposrophes.
Well, thats my life in a nutshell. Your turn.
t.

Like i said, i know i dont really open up a whole ton to share personal stuff, especially in this impersonal medium, but, as some of you know, and as i have said, im not really one to discuss things like this, and i felt the need to get this off my chest. So. Yeah, mission accomplished. If any of you all feel like i left something important out.. feel free to make your comments. If you dont, dont. i feel like Ive gotten the therapeutic value that i was looking for.
As always, thanks for reading.

Fairs and gang wars -- oh my!

So, as some of you have gathered from random posts on peoples Face book walls, I was at the local fair last week, waiting in line for a ride, when we heard about 10gun shots. Me and Christopher were at the fair with a friend of ours, Ben, and we all just kind of looked at each other like "was that what we think it was" and then 2 seconds later a herd of people came charging at us yelling "gun"! Well, its loud at the fair, games and rides and people yelling, and loud music, so it was hard to tell what was really going on. We ran with the people, to the other side of the ride strip (when a group of running people yell gun, you run first, ask questions later). We ran about 20 feet, really, just to the other side of the middle strip of the fair where the rides were, and on this side, people were still playing games, and just sort of milling about. We all just sort of looked at each other, standing next to the game where there is a wall of balloons, where you have to throw darts at them and pop them to win a prize. We hear 3 balloons pop in a row, and look at each other wondering if thats what we may have heard. I of course, being the naive canadian, assumed that because there was no more commotion, and because the rides hadnt all shut down, that it must have been a car back firing or the balloon game, and i start to walk back determined to get my money's worth of my ride pass. Just at that very second, like 75+ people came charging right at us again, even more panicked than last time, all screaming, pushing, and fighting their way away from where the gun was going off. Unfortunately, the fair was fenced in, and we were all at the back of the grounds by the fence, trapped. So, we all pushed as far as we could, towards the fence, then walked/ran upwards along it towards the front gate. We learned on the way that the shots occurred in the parking lot, right on the other side of the fence that we were walking along, right on the other side of where we were standing in line to get on a ride -- about 20 feet away from us. No one was hit, and I guess what happened was there were shots exchanged between 2 groups of people. There were what seemed like a billion cops there with in a matter of seconds, and they took a ton of people in. After we got out the front gate, we were walking along the main road, trying to walk back to Ben's apartment where we parked. Ben wanted to cut through the parking lot. He turned in, and I looked over to see where he was going, saw like 5 cops with their guns drawn, and a hand full of people laying on the ground getting handcuffed, like right in the path that Ben was taking, not but 10 feet in front of us. I just grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him back to the sidewalk and said "i think well take the long way".

names

So, we got a new kitten, and we are having a hard time naming it. Its a female calico, and is growing like a weed. She is fearless, but startles easily, and is all around a pretty nice little girl. Anyone have any suggestions?

The trophy

The trophy
sat in the window, where it had for years now, collecting dust. The gold sticker covering the base was beginning to peal at the corners, not unlike the chipped paint on the outside wall of the apartment building. It was a blue building, and not a pretty blue either, more like the washed out blue that you would find in the psychiatric ward of a hospital. The peeling paint was an expression of how old the apartment was, but it didn’t stick out in the neighborhood, because all the buildings were old. They reminded Emmanuel of war veterans, battered and left forgotten. Emmanuel’s trophy sat in the old window, covered in dust and cigarette ashes that had blown back in through the window that Emmanuel leaned out of when he was sneaking cigarettes from his mother. Not that she would notice, when she was home, she slept, while Emmanuel arranged dinner, and watched his little brother Jose. But, she was hardly ever home these days, working 3 jobs to afford that rundown one bedroom apartment. Emmanuel and Jose slept in the bedroom, Maria slept on the couch. As an illegal, under the table jobs don’t pay much, and even with three of them, getting rent together was a challenge every month. That and she had to keep dumping money into that old beater of a car. Something had to get her to work; the city was too big to walk anywhere. When Emmanuel Sr. was alive, the children’s father, Maria only had one job, cleaning for an older woman on the outside of town. The number 17 bus got her there, and on days where Emmanuel got off work early he picked Maria up on his way home. Sometimes, as a treat, they would stop off at the little taqueria and pick up dinner for the family, Manney (Emmanuel Jr.) and Jose loved the tacos from that little shack of a restaurant. Those days had long left the Gonzales family, back in what seemed like a life time ago, when Manny played baseball every summer and basketball during the school year. He was so active then, but now with Emmanuel gone, Maria couldn’t afford the sport fees for Manny to play, she didn’t have the time to take him to the baseball field anymore, and Manny’s attendance record at school was too poor to allow him onto the school team. Not that Manny would play now, even if he was able. Manny had different interests now; trophies plated with cheap gold stickers were a goal of the past. Trophies were for babies and mama’s boys, and at 14 Manny could care less about sports or school. Only a year earlier, when he met Paco sitting on the short brick fence outside his apartment building, the beginning of the end unfolded for Manny. Everyone was afraid of Paco. He was 18, covered in tattoos, and always had a Camel Filter hanging out of his mouth. He was the kid that all the parents in the neighborhood told their sons not to hang out with, and their daughters not to date. But Manny wasn’t afraid of Paco, like many young boys without fathers, Manny admired him. He never had anyone telling him what to do, he didn’t go to school, always had a pretty girlfriend, a nice car, and of course, Paco always had money. He had hundreds on him at a given time, and kept it in his pocket, as huge roll, always finding excuses to dig it out and flash around to the younger kids, asking them if they wanted some too. Manny was tired, tired of being poor, tired of not ever having anything, while so many other people had everything. So, when Paco was taunting the children with the money, Manny walked right up to him while the others shied away. Of course Paco wasn’t giving the money away free, there is always a price to pay, and Manny wasn’t stupid, even at 13 he knew how gangs made money. He often watched from his bedroom window, as people pulled over to the curb in front of his apartment, waiting in their idling cars for the kid sitting on the brick fence to walk over to the driver side window. To a passerby, it looked like they kid and driver were friends, and just talking, but Manny had a bird’s eye view and each time he saw the driver hand cash over to the kid. The kid never handed anything back, but instead, diligently returned to his spot on the brick fence. But, the car would always wait, and after a the kid on the fence made a call on his cell phone someone would come out of the building, walk over to the car and they would take off together. Most of the time, they just drove around the corner, the kid would get out of the car, and go back inside the apartment complex. Drugs. And Manny knew all about them. His father Emmanuel had given all the knowledge Manny needed about all different sorts of drugs, and even at 13, Manny knew more about them than most people would. He knew that they took your money, or they made you money, but never both. He knew that they could take your life, and could take fathers away from families, changing them forever. So, that sunny day, three weeks after his Manny’s 13th birthday where he stayed home with his brother and watched black and white cartoons on a TV that barely got 2 channels, he knew exactly what he was doing when he walked right up to Paco, and said that he wanted to make some money. And Paco, knowing all the boys on the block, knew that Manny’s father had died a few years ago, and that Maria was desperate for work. She was a parent, but he still knew his boss always had work for women. He had tried to offer her a job, but knowing what he meant Maria cursed at him in Spanish, storming into the apartment building. Almost as an afterthought, she stuck her head back out the door, and yelled to Paco a warning to stay away from her boys. They were good boys. Paco laughed to himself. They were good boys, and the oldest Manny was smart too, and just the perfect age to start working for him. Manny began working that same day. He started as a lookout, and an errand boy. He was forever running to the gas station down the street for chips and soda’s for the rotating kid that sat on the front brick fence, and for the group of guys that stayed inside the apartment. Manny wasn’t allowed into the apartment, where Paco spent most of his time. Instead, when one of the guys came out, on the way to the idling car at the curb, he’d stop by Manny, toss him a twenty dollar bill and give him an order. They always let him keep the change. Everyone liked Manny. He did what he was supposed to do, whistle when he saw a cop car coming. He never asked questions, and always was respectful to the older guys in the apartment. So, after only a year went by, Paco asked Manny if he wanted the job sitting on the fence. It was more responsibility, he could get in more trouble, but not much being a juvenile with a clean record, and of course it was more money too. Manny was out of school for the summer, had just turned 14, and had just spent another lonesome birthday at home with his brother, watching that same old shitty TV. He was thrilled to have the opportunity, and thanked Paco graciously. Manny liked being the money guy, and he liked the feeling of power he had holding on to a cell phone. At the end of a busy day, there was often close to a thousand dollars in his pocket, and he kept it in a roll just like Paco did. When school started back up, Manny didn’t care. He didn’t see a use for school; he hated his teachers and his classmates too. He liked sitting on the fence, waiting for cars to pull up. He liked having the money in his pocket, even if only a small fraction of it was his. Manny was good with his money, he didn’t blow it on junk food and CDs like the other fence kids did. Manny bought food from the gas station, and kept the rest in a box under his bed. One day, while he was occupying his regular spot on the wall, a van pulled up with 3 of the older guys that usually hung out in the apartment with Paco. One got out, and propped open the door to the apartment complex, as the other 2 guys started to unload boxes from the back of the van into the blue building, watching over their shoulders. When they were done unloading, Manny had counted over 20 boxes marked Sony that had gone into the building. It looked like TVs and DVD players, but Manny had never seen a new one in a box before, so he wasn’t sure. The next day, 4 kids that shared Manny’s job were bragging about their new TVs that they had bought off Paco. Manny had never had a colour TV before. Before he had started working, he had felt lucky to have the old black and white TV with the bunny ear antennas. When one of the boys he worked with came up to Manny’s apartment to get him for his shift on the wall he had laughed at Manny’s little brother sitting in front of that TV trying to tune in a channel by playing with the broken antennas. Manny was angry, and when he saw Paco, he asked how he could get a nice TV. Paco didn’t say anything; instead he just smiled, took a drag off his smoke, got into his car and left. Manny shrugged it off, and went back to doing what he did. That night, after he was done working, Manny walked over to the taqueria and grabbed himself a couple of tacos, sat down and enjoyed them. He ordered some to go, enough for Jose and his mother, and went back home to the blue apartment. It was after 9:00pm, and he knew that his mom would be just getting home, and he was excited to have been able to get tacos for his family; there hadn’t been food in the house all week. He opened the door to the building and headed upstairs to his apartment. When he got to his floor, he could hear the screaming before he was out of the stairwell. He could hear his mother’s voice raving that something was totally unacceptable. Take it and go, she was yelling, and leave my Manny alone. She was swearing and calling someone names. Manny rounded the corner, just in time to see Paco push Maria against the door to their apartment. One of the Sony TV boxes was resting outside the apartment door on the ground. Manny was close enough to hear Paco growl something nasty at his mother, something along the lines of had she just taken his offer, then Manny wouldn’t have to be working and providing things like this TVs for his family. But, Paco wasn’t yelling. Instead, he was dangerously close to Maria, pushing himself against her. She was struggling to get away, but Paco’s tattooed arm held straight across her chest pinning both her shoulders back against the wall. He reached out with his other hand, and aggressively grabbed Maria’s breast. He leaned in towards her ear to whisper something to her, or to kiss her, Manny couldn’t tell, and Maria was turning her head at such an awkward angle it looked as if her neck was broken, to keep her face as far as she could from Paco’s disgusting warm breath. He smelled like stale beer and cigarettes. Time seemed like it had stopped to Manny, and he couldn’t tell if hours or minutes had elapsed, when in reality it all this had played out in a matter of seconds. Manny’s heart started to pound in his throat; every muscle tensed. Weaponless, he rushed Paco in an attempt to push him off his mother. They intertwined, and although Manny was much smaller than Paco, he managed to shake his footing so that Paco lost his balance, stumbling inside the apartment. The two of them fell to the floor, and within a second Paco was on top of Manny. Maria, hysterical, screamed at Paco to get off her son, forgetting about Jose who ran into his and Manny’s bedroom once they toppled into the apartment. Paco slammed Manny’s head into the floor, saying how they should be grateful for everything he had done to help out their family. With one final strike there was a sickening deep thud. Manny’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and blood pooled around his dark hair. Maria screamed, and Paco turned towards her, leaping from his crouched position over Manny towards a frenzied mother. He didn’t want to hurt her; he just needed her to shut up so he could think. It all happened so fast, and now he was worried that he may have killed Manny. But, she wouldn’t stop screaming, and the blood wouldn’t stop pouring out, the pool getting bigger and darker with every millisecond that ticked painfully by. He tackled Maria, and they fell to the ground. She tried to claw her way out, but Paco was too strong. He just kept saying shut up, shut up bitch, over and over, but Maria couldn’t stop screaming. Manny wasn’t moving. Paco cupped his hand over her mouth, and although she tried to shake him off she couldn’t. Paco took his other hand, and clamped it over the hand on Maria’s mouth; he locked both of his elbows, pushing down. It seemed like forever, and he just kept telling Maria to shut up. He needed to think. Had he just killed Manny? How had all this happened? He was just trying to give these fuckers a new TV. He looked at the old TV in the middle of the living room. He stared at it, at the broken antennas sticking out the back of it. He didn’t look down to his hands over Maria’s mouth, didn’t see her eyes bulging as she struggled to take a breath. He didn’t see her take her last breath. And, he didn’t see her die. He got up, stepped over Manny, and backed towards the front door, still staring at that damn old TV. He heard a click, and looked over towards the bedroom door where the sound had come from. Jose. He forgot about Jose. He knew the people in this apartment building would be too scared to tell the police what had happened here. It wasn’t their family that had been murdered, so they would keep their mouths shut. But, Jose on the other hand, was a liability he couldn’t afford. He was alone now, and would be angry, and would have nothing to lose by telling the cops exactly how this all went down. He walked around Maria’s body, and pushed open the bedroom door. Jose Gripped the trophy over his head, pressed up against the wall beside the doorway. He gripped the trophy so hard that his fingers were white. Paco stepped into the room to look for Jose, but it was too late, Jose held the trophy from the top, around the figurines head, like a bat, and swung upwards right into Paco’s eye. He cut his cheek and blood immediately spilled out of the gash, and poured over the peeling corners of the trophy, poured over Jose’s white hands. Jose swung over and over again. He swung the trophy until Paco fell, then he swung the trophy like a hammer, over and over again into Paco’s face. Time ceased to exist, and he kept swinging and swinging until Paco no longer had a face. When he was sure Paco wasn’t going to get up, Jose went into the bathroom, carrying the trophy. Pulling the shower curtain aside he turned the water in the bathtub on, and held the trophy under it, washing away the blood, washing away the ashes, and washing away the dust on his brother’s trophy that he had admired so much. He turned the water off, sat on the bathroom floor, and while he waited for the cops to come he leaned against the tub clinging to
the trophy.

insomnia

So, its after midnight and i cant sleep. Every time i lay down to go to bed, the wheels in my brain just start a-racing, and I'm left to think and rethink every minuscule detail in my life. Should i have done this, how will i do that. It is in the wee hours where one is forcing themselves to try to go to sleep where regrets are formed, and abstract ideas toss around and around until they form themselves into something substantial.

It was tonight, that i started thinking about keys. Yes, keys.. like a house key, or a car key. Those simple little metal things, that can be colour coded, and at some hardware stores you can even get them pre-painted to don the logo of your favorite sports team. Keys: a symbol of responsibility, the icon of adulthood. Its not to often we think about our keys, not of course unless we lose them. Keys, tiny pieces of metal, are symbolic of the ever increasing responsibility we attain as we journey down our developemental paths. The first time we receive our very first key, it is a monumental occasion, thought over by our parents, probably late at night, while they tossed and turned, forcing sleep upon themselves. As a child you get your first key, to your house, and probably lose it once or maybe even twice, before your parent (in my case my mother), gets some sort of tacky god awful string, and ties that key around your neck, a forshadowing of the heavy responsibility that keys will bring in the future. This first key, even has a title for its bearer, the child goes from just a regular every day school goer, to the infamous "latch-key-kid". Its a fairly slow progression up the key responsibility ladder, though everything at that age seems to take forever. You soon carry your bike key.. possibly a locker key. You may even be a responsible young person, and have a key ring for these few keys. I myself, didn't take on the task of key ring duty until i took on my next title: renter. Yes, i was an apartment renter before i owned a car. And with that set of keys, and new title, came oh so much more responsibility -- rent and the joyous utility bills. From there, its just a hop skip and jump until you get a new set of keys to tack onto your ever increasing in weight key ring -- literally and figuratively -- you get a work key, you are now an employee. You have to show up, some times maybe open a store, and the responsibility mounts even higher. Soon, you move up, you get a new title, you become a manager, you get even more keys, to the safe, to the store room. Of course now you are no longer only responsible for yourself, you have staff to look out for. Most likely by this time, hopefully, you have a vehicle. Thus, you have 2 new keys - the door key, and the engine key, and most likely a spare set somewhere for this 2 ton paper weight of responsibility. Here we see a meshing and interdependency developing with your keys, with out some, you wouldn't have others. With out the office keys, would you have a house key? a car key? Not very likely. Of course, home owning entails way more keys than renting, and arguably you would get more keys if you owned; the garage, the shed, an office room, or private study. And, just when it seems that you have peaked at the key acquisition progression, you come to a full circle when of course, you have to get copies of your aging parent's house keys, when it becomes time for you to care for them. You don the title "caregiver" with these keys, and as your parents tossed and turned decades ago, you now have tossed and turned many sleepless nights trying to decide if the time is right to take their keys. Key after key, responsibility after responsibility, title after title, we start early in life, and it doesn't ever seem to stop... until of course, we start losing our keys, our titles, and yes, our responsibilities -- either by choice, or by force. We retire, family members yell at us when we try to drive and eventually force us to relinquish our car keys (and the spares), and we have to give our children the key to our own houses. They take our keys, they take our responsibility. In the end, many of us will go to nursing homes, and we, like the latch key kids we once were, will most likely be reduced to only one key, our room key. Knowing me, I'll still be so damned irresponsible ill have to wear the bloody thing around my neck so i don't lose it.

catching up

So, yes yes.. its been forever since i posted on my blog. I didnt think anyone really read it anymore, now that i have face book, it seems that i just message people back and forth on that thing instead of just doing massive posting updates. But, alas, i figured id post for those of you not so savvy to yet have facebook.. and for those of you that love my stories so much you want to hear them twice.

Things have been fairly uneventful here in omaha generally. Its cold as hell, but not as cold as i thought it would be. We've had a few good snow storms, and one crazy ice storm, but all in all, its been tollerable. Unfortunetly, as soon as the weather got cold i got sick, and have pretty much stayed sick. I had some bad sinus thing, and i just cant seem to kick it, but then again, christopher had the flu last week, and i'd take a sinus thing over the flu any day.

We did have some excitement in our little mexican ghetto a little while ago... We pulled into our parking space behind our apartment, and found a mexican hiding in the bushes behind the driveway. The cops were around the corner looking for him. We pulled back out of our driveway and let the cops know the dude was back there. Im not a big fan of tattletailing, but some one was stabbed the month before on our block, so i figured if the cops were out looking for him in the cold, it may be for a good purpose. Anyway, Christopher showed them where the guy was hiding (i thought he was dead when we pulled up, just cause of the hunched up way he was laying -- it looked totally surreal). Anyway, he went back there with the 2 cops, i waited in the car, 2 more cops pulled up and were walking back to the back driveway where C and the other cops were, when C came jogging back to the car with his black hoodie, hood up. Needless to say, the 2 new cops coming onto the scene were startled, and started yelling at him to put his hands up etc, they gave him a full pat down and mini interrogation before the original 2 cops came out from behind our place, saying "whoa whoa, hes with us". It was pretty comical. Anyway, i guess the dude they were looking for had done something fairly substantial cause they had the police helicoptor hovering and circling above our place looking for him. It was pretty crazy.

Christophers mom had surgery to remove a walnut sized tumor from her throat. She got out of the hospital today, and the tumor was large, but wasnt spreading. She should have a very speedy recovery, and everything should be fine.

My papers are done and ready to be turned in. I have been to the doctor and am officially immunized and disease free. Unfortunetly, after countless appointments to the immigration office to answer all my questions, we have all the papaers complete, photos taken, everything ready to go, and of course we cannot find christopher's birth certificate anywhere. We have to get a copy ordered now before we can send my application off.

Speaking of birth certificates, Christopher's birthday is right around the corner -- on march 4th. Im trying to convince his brother (twin for those of you that dont know or have forgotten) to come spend it up here with us, so they can be together. Gettin that boy out of his state is like asking paris hilton to lay off the drugs and eat some food. So, im not holding my breath. PS, I hope you read this blake. The truth hurts.

Well... that is all i have to say. I hope you all are awesome. I miss you vancouverites like mad. Take care everyone. Until my next post in another few months, xxoo.

this is getting old

...but I guess i will still post -- out of habbit perhaps, coupled with a handfull of boredome.

I thought id give you all a quick update. My fish are both dead. Kaput. Off to fishy heaven. The first one -- mortimer -- died about a month ago, at the hands (or should i say paws) of Admiral tibbits. I woke up in the morning, went to the kitchen, and saw mortimers tank, empty, and gravel all over the floor. Though i looked, I didnt find poor mortimer scaley body anywhere in the kitchen, and i assumed that tibbits ate him. I know it was tibbits cause Minouche is too fat to jump up onto the counters. Later that day, i found Mortimer on the carpet, when i stepped on him. Yay, that was fun. Our second fish, Demitrius, died just this last week, at the hands of our friend V (that is his nickname, and thank god, cause i cant spell his real name). V was our house sitter for the first few days me and christopher were away. He called a couple of days after we left. The following is an excerpt from that conversation.

V: I think your fish is dead.
Chris: why do you say that?
V: its just sitting on the bottom of the tank
Chris: It does that alot, its just a betta, they dont really do very much.
V: oh ok then.

The next day i got a call from my friend jen who was looking after the house and kittens for the last few days we were away. The following is an excerpt from that converstation.

Jen: Your fish is dead. I flushed it.

So aparently V was right, the fish wasnt just resting at the bottom of the tank. It was indeed, very dead. Well, you never can expect too much from house/pet sitters i suppose. At least he didnt kill one of the kittens.

Christmas travel plans

I think ive told most of you through facebook, but for those that i missed, i thought id let you know that Im comming home for a visit in 2.5 weeks. I get in on december 4th and am leaving the 18th. Ill be there long enough to get sick of you all, and the rain -- long enough for omaha to look appealing again. Other than that, things are the same here. Quiet, the weather is great, getting cold finally but, its been sunny almost every day for the last 2 months. Ill take the cold over grey pissy rain. I heard that the weather is ok in van, no snow yet, unlike last year, so im keeping my fingers crossed that itll stay nice until i get there. Next week, were going to Christophers mom's place for thanksgiving, were staying for just under a week, and then i leave for van a few days after we get back. Then a few days after i get back here, were going back to Christophers moms place for the holidays (or at least part of em). Im excited to be doing so much travelling -- and to get to go home close enough to dec 25th to feel like i was home for christmas. See those of you that live in van soon! Those of you that dont, i hope all is well... happy thanks giving to the americans.

well informed

You know, I have a bad feeling about this post, cause, like other created in boredom, they just dont have that entertaining quality that I hope for. So, consider this a warning.

Hello all of you left reading my blog. Its been a while, so I thought Id say hello. The zombie in the attic gives its greetings as well. I swear its scratching in code. It says some nights that it wants to feed on my supple brain. Others it just says that its bored. Thanks to you all for your great suggestions on how to rid my paranormal phenomena, but, i have decided not to do anything about it. I dont want to anger it, it has not been malicious to me, so, why should i be malicious to it? Secondly, it was here first, so... possession is like 9/10th of the law right? According to the zombie, this is their apartment.

Things in omaha are quiet... mostly cause C is out of town at the moment. But, we have the house set up finally, and i know i know, i need to take some pictures of it for you guys. Those of you that are still reading this blog at blogspot.com wont have the good fortune of seeing these pictures, as i have given up posting them here because it takes to much effort. Instead, as some of you know, i finally caved, and made a facebook account, where its super easy to upload pictures. So, if you wanna see some T pics, you have to get a facebook account (ahem Tom and Mel).
Anyway, Omaha. Its been kind of stormy here, and its pretty cool watching the lightening and stuff. But, this morning, an alarm woke me up, and it wasnt my clock alarm. The tornado warning siren was going off. It was a freeky way to be woken up thats for sure. But, the house is still here, and I dont see a yellow brick road so, all is well.

For those of you following my grief with my citizenship application, I have found out some more information about this process. A few months ago, they changed the prices of the different forms you have to send in. One of these forms has been jacked to 930$ from 340$! What a rip off. Man, they must be raking it in. That is just one of the changes, i was too shocked/disgusted/afraid to look to see what the rest of the price changes were. So, that kind of put a wrench in the spokes to say the least. Also, and im sure this will please my mother, if not more of you, i have found out that i need to have a passport, with a stamped entry in to the US to prove my arrival date. Ya ya, you know what this means -- i have to come home again. I have to get a passport, and then fly back here. Im thrilled to be able to see you all, but, im a little frustrated that i didnt just go ahead and get it the last time i was back. Although, i guess that wouldnt solve the problem im in, cause id still be coming back in order to fly back to the US to get it stamped. So, no date yet, but I will be coming back sooner or later.

The kittens are getting big, Minouche is a pig, and monopolizes the food dish. I put down 2 dishs, but he just eats out of what ever one tibbits is trying to get to. So, we have one kitty thats a lot bigger than the other. Plus, Tibbits is way more active than Minouche, so, well.. im preparing myself for Minouche to be a big Fat-Pat cat (fat pat, is my loving new nickname for him).

Well, thats it for my update. Hope all is awesome with you guys! take care! xxooo

omaha hauntings

There is some sort of supernatural phenomena occuring in the place we moved into. I think that its possible that a zombie lives in the attic... and just the other night, it was scratching to get at me. I swear it has to be a zombie, cause a rodent wouldnt have been scratching in the same room i was in, right above my head, and it would have scurried off when i hit the wall. It also wouldnt have scratched in the same spot for an hour and a half. I have come to the conclusion that it must be a zombie and not a ghost, cause why would a ghost scratch? would it not just float through the ceiling...? Also, although not as impressive as the zombie in the attic tale, the other night, we turned out all the lights and went to bed, but something awoke us around 3am. The dinning room light had been turned on (the room right out side our bedroom). Its happend 2 other times since, so no, we did not forget to turn out the light. Also, often, when you shut the bathroom door, after it shuts, it loudly pulls against itself, like some one is on the other side of the door pulling at it with one swift tug. So yeah, the house is haunted.. with zombies that have telekinesis.

Kittens galore

So, things are pretty much the same. I just wanted to let you all know that we are getting settled in ok, and just yesterday we adopted 2 kittens. They are brothers, and are a few months old. We have not yet named them, so if you have any ideas say so in the comment section. Man, I dont remember kittens being such hard work, but they are. They are into everything, dont sleep more than a few hours at a time, and are more needy than a co-dependent girlfriend. God help me, what have i done!?

Corn, Heat, and tornado warnings: a tale of nebraska

Hello all, I just wanted to let those who read this thing, if there are any of you left, know that C and I arrived in omaha. We found a cool place, and have been busy trying to find ways to fill it up. You probably could fit 2.5 of our last apartments in here, not to mention its got super tall ceilings so it looks even bigger.
The week we first got here, we stayed in a hotel while we looked for a place. We arrived at about 1am, so had no idea what the area surrounding the hotel looked like. The next morning, i drew the curtains to see that (and i shit you not), we were surrounded by miles of corn. I had kind of just assumed that everyone was exaggerating about the corn, but, apparenly they werent. The first week we got here, there was also a heat wave. Ive felt hot before, but not humidity like this. It was almost as if I was stepping into the bathroom somewhere in hell while the devil was taking a shower. Hot and wet. This week the temperature has subsided. But, only cause they are having some of the worst thunderstorms they have had in a while here. I have never seen anything like it... and I am almost certain that the extreemness of the storms are my fault. The first storm we saw, we watched from our car. It started a few miles away, and we watched as the fork lightning struck down about 20 times or so. Looked really awesome. That one came and went over head, and i was left saying to chris "that wasnt so bad, i thought it was gunna be more scary after what everyone said about the storms". Well, 2 days later, we were home when the next one hit. It was so bad that the sky turned so dark it looked like 10pm and it was 5. The lighting and thunder went on so long that it seemed like hours, and the sky lit up so much that the street light sensor thought it was day, and it turned off half way through the storm. About 30 minutes into it, I heard this siren, turned to Chris and asked what it was, and saw with his reluctance in tellign me that it wasnt any normal siren. Apparently it was a tornado siren. Weeeeeeee. But, things are well... miss you all. t

oh yeah...

Did i forget to mention that im taking a little 2 week detour to vancouver?

rollin' rollin' rollin'

Well the ball has started rolling, and like a snowball at the top of a very large hill, this sucker has got its momentum and its not stopping. The ball is moving.. I am moving -- quite literally! It just kind of hit me, the other day... when the moving company guy came to asses my house. Its very strange, cause i put in my moving request as Christopher was getting his travel arrangements for texas, so, i wasnt really thinking about my request. How it works is like this: I apply for a day that i want my crap packed and moved, and they confirm or deny that. So, i wasnt really thinking much about my move, cause I hadnt heard about my confirmation, and with Christopher gone, i just wasnt going to ponder it until i had my follow up meeting with the transportation office on base -- which isnt until this comming friday. This appointment is where im supposed to hear about my moving date confirmation. But, the moving company called, and like i said, they sent some one to come do the assessment to see what all i have to move... and they say i got the date i requested.. which means im homeless in less than a month. In fact, Im homeless in less than 3 weeks, cause i gave myself enough time to drive to omaha and look for places before the months end. The movers are comming the 26th, and all of a sudden i am wishing that i had booked it a few days earlier. Watch out for that snow boulder down below!!! Run! At least the military moves all your crap for you. They pack it and everything -- which is cool, and very odd and uncomfortable at the same time. So, that is me. How are all you? i SAID.. how are all of YOU???

yay

Just to let you all know, Christopher passed his Dari test. Of those that were left in the class, they ALL passed the DLTP. Its the first time in the history of the dari program that there was a 100% pass rate for the DPTP. So, he offically leaves July 5th. One week this comming thrusday -- this thursday is his graduation. His mom and step dad are comming into town for it, and staying for a few days. Then we have 5 days to pack up all his crap and get him off to texas. Hell stay there for a month or so, then he goes to Washington state. We meet up in Omaha October 15. Pretty crazy.

Other than that, things are same old here. Just got alot of life arrangement type things that were working on. Putting in our moving request, change of base info at the base... stuff like that. Been looking for places in Omaha through craigslist. Yay craigslist. Thats us in a nut shell.. missing you guys.. post a comment or something sometime you jackasses.

in the loop

Howdy everyone... hope this post find you all well. Christopher has almost finnished all his tests, he only has one section left of the Farsi DLPT. His Dari test seems to have gone well (knock on wood), and we will know for sure by tomorrow afternoon. He has his graduation next thursday, and i believe his mother is comming into town for that. Blake left a couple of days ago. The weekend before he left we all went to the Santa Cruz board walk with 2 couples from Christophers class. It was very cool... rides right on a huge beach. Some really cool rides too. Some one took a couple of pictures, but im not sure if ill ever see them or what they are of, but if you want to see what it looks like at the boardwalk heres the link.
(www.beachboardwalk.com/). Well thats about it, just wanted to keep you in the loop with the tests and all. Miss you guys..
t

playing tourist

So, its been a pretty full week, and first off let me say happy birthday to all my friends who have had birthdays in the last little bit. Happy birthday Kat, Cheryl, and sarah. Hope you all had great days, and got all the goods you hoped for. As for us, we've been playing tourist. Blake called last monday to tell us that he was flying out the next day to come see us. We went to san fran to pick him up, but his luggage went to san jose, so we stopped there to get his stuff on the way back. So, we've been hanging with blake, gone to the aquarium, the beaches, out to eat and what not.... Im hoping next weekend were gunna go to the santa cruz board walk -- rides and roller coasters and what not... Ive been trying to get Christopher to go for some time now, so its the perfect excuse. That, and if he passes his test this week, he will be gone in 3 weeks, so were running out of time. He starts his test tomorrow, and it goes until friday. He tests for the Farsi DLPT starting next tuesday, and it goes till thursday i believe. 2 weeks of testing, YAY!... i remember when i was horrified at my first 3 hour exam. I would have died to have tests so long they lasted 3 full days! So, anyway... thats what the deal is here. Hope all you vancouverites are enjoying the rain.. hehehe. Miss you!
xxoo
t

A quick update

Hello everyone. I just thought id give you guys a quick update about whats going on here. Christopher is writing his last exam of his program today, besides the final proficiency exam. That exam, the DLPT, is what will determine where we go and when. His classes are just about done though, with a month to go until his formal graduation, and regardless of what happens with his DLPT he will be passing his program and will have earned college credit for it -- almost a whole BA in language worth of credit. His DLPT is scheduled for mid june i believe, and if he passes that he goes off to Texas for cryptology classes, and then Oregon for survival school. If he passes the DLPT he leaves for these other classes on July 5th, and is scheduled to be in Nebraska for 6 months of flight school on October 15 - where i will be allowed join him. If he doesnt pass the DLPT he goes on a retest status, where they give him 2 months to study his ass off and then take the test again. Of the 5 years that they have had this particular language program here, less that 100 have successfully graduated the Dari program -- and to make things worse, the failure rate of the Dari DLPT is one of the highest for all the languages they offer here on base. So, we will wait and see. Of course we are thinking possitively - and hoping for the best. I thought id let you all know so you could think good thoughts for us too. Hope all is well with everyone. Ill keep you posted about our plans.

Beachcombers

Yes, i am awear that most of you are either not canadian or not old enough, and thus have no idea who, or what The Beachcombers was. Regardless, i thought it would be a good title for a post sharing my beach hiking pictures with all of you. With out further ado:



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**Instert pourly speled titels hear**

You know what makes me sick? People that actually update their blogs daily -- and with interesting lengthy posts no less. I mean, seriously... who has the time or will to do that, let alone the insite to be able to think of something interesting to write about day in and day out?

Funny story, well.. i think its funny.. i was driving Christopher back to class the other day at lunch, and he was pestering me (in a joking way). After he starting poking me in the ribs i decided id have to pull over till he stopped. Im not a big fan of being tickled let alone while im behind the wheel. Anyway, after pulling over, TWICE... he still wasnt getting the picture, so while we were stopped i tossed his wallet out the car window. When he un-did his seat belt and got out of the car to get it i started to drive away. Now dont get me wrong, i didnt speed off and just leave him there, im not mean like that. However, i also didnt stop to let him back in. I did manage to slow down enough that he could jump in with out hurting himself.

Other than that, things are cool, well.. warm to be more exact. It was beautiful out today, and its looking like its gunna be that way all week. Its a good week for it, cause christophers twin brother is going to be flying into town tomorrow or the next day (hes flying standby -- good times). The last time he came it was just after christmas, and the weather was ok for winter, but it was still fairly chilly. Its georgous out now, so, thats cool.

K im out of things to say, like i said a few paragraphs ago, im just not that insitefull. Hope everyone is doing good. Im missing all you vancouverites like crazy.
t

what the hell..

So, I was checking my email today, and in the subject field there was an email titled "women: get your hair back in 4 weeks". I used to just delete these spam mailings but recently i have decided that i will be victorious over the spam mail -- and i have set out to unsubcribe myself from all these random lists that i magically appeared on. How i got on to a hair growth for women mail list i will never know, but that is besides the point. Anyway, I used to get like 20-30 spam emails a day, but i finally have weeded it down to 2 or 3. Its been less than 5 for a few weeks now, and no matter what i do, i just cant seem to get rid off all of them. Some of the tricky bastards dont even have an "unsubscribe here" link. But, all and all, i still feel as if i have won the battle cause, lets be real here, less than 5 junk email is truely a victory... is it not? Furthermore, I dont always get a ton of email, so on weeks where im not hearing from anyone, at least i can read about how i can get my hair back, or the classic, how to enlarge ones penis. I realize that none of this is spectacularly interesting, but, i feel like i havent made touch with any of you that may be left reading my blog these days. A few links and some pictures just doesnt seem to have that personal touch that my blog had at the begining of its creation. Originally, i sat down to type something totally different to you all, but checked my email before composing my post, totally lost my train of thought, and was left with this beauty. Enjoy...

david blaine street magic spoof

Um... ya.

GUESS WHAT THIS IS!

heres a hint, its NOT a paperweight!

Mr. Deity

Mr Deity: Episode 1, Mr Deity and the evil

Mr Deity: Episode 2, Mr. Deity and the really big favor.

Episode 3: Mr Deity and the light

Episode 4: Mr. Deity and the messages

Episode 5: Mr. Deity and Lucifer

dan le sac VS scroobius pip

... for your viewing pleasure. Yay youtube. Dont forget, theyre "just a band"

here a deer, there a deer, everywhere a deer deer

I know ive mentioned to a few of you, if not on my blog generally, that we have alot of deer in monterey. These deer arent like any other, in fact, the ones on base wont move when you walk by them. They are all pretty fearless. But, its cool, cause you can get up close and check em out, which isnt something a city girl like me has had much chance to do. The other day, there were 2 young bucks grazing in our back lot and i snapped some shots of em through the window.


These nex shots are of a neighbourhood cat, stalking the deer.








But, the deer didnt fear the cat, and instead they decided to take a nap. If i was doctor sues im sure i could write a book based on that line. But im not, so ill just show you the picutres instead.

word on the street......

better late than never

So, as i had mentioned to some of you, about a month ago now, a group of us went on a tour of a lighthouse. It was cool to get out down the coast, it really is beautiful down there. The tour itself was.. well.. it was a tour. Im not really a big fan of tours, id rather just look at things on my own time, i hate waiting for a group, and im not really one for learning about the history behind whatever im looking at. I prefer just to see it. Ive had my stint in school, i feel like im done learning for some time. Other than that, and the 50hour a mile winds and the freezing weather, the tour was cool. I got a bunch of nifty picutres to post.

this one is a shot of the hill that the lighthouse is on taken from the highway. We had to park at the bottom of this thing, and walk up... into 50 mile an hour winds.

This is a shot of what the edge of the path that we were walking up looked like. In the brochure for the tour it said "do not chase objects or people over the edge of the trail" I personally think that that goes with out saying, as im sure you can see with this last shot.


This is just a shot of the coast from the lighthouse hill. And another shot of the rocks below us, more proof of why not to chase anything off the path.



Heres some shots of the lighthouse itself.

Seven deadly sins

Ahhhh too true too true. Kootoes to whomever was brilliant enought to plot this out. Im going to hell.

Happy birthday to christopher

Sunday was Christopher's birthday. It was a nice chilled day... we had cake (as you can see), balloons, and went out to one of those japanese places that has the grill built right into the table. Id never been to one of those places before, so it was pretty neat. They even sang a version of happy birhday, and brought us ice cream. They also had a full sized candle for C to blow out, on some wierd ass birthday podium thing -- and they gave him a great hat. They tried to get him to dance around to the birhday song, but he wasnt having any of it. All and all it was a good day.

does any one really listen?

I was leaving base today, and as always I said good bye to the gaurd working there. I always say something along the lines of "bye, have a nice night", or some rendition. Today, I said have a good night, and the gaurd said "good, hows it going?" I mean, seriously, does have a good night sound anything like how are you doing? Furthermore, who asks some one how theyre doing as they are going? "bye, how are you doing??" I didnt say anything back, but instead wondered the whole way home how often people just hear what they want to hear. Its not a new thought, but i went on that tangent for a few blocks before i realized that ive been here close to a year now, and go to base at the least 4 times a week... and i have never once had some one say something that made as little sence as that. In fact, i couldnt remember one time in the last few years where ive said something that was responded to totally inappropriately. So, then i spent the next few blocks thinking about how people have this ONE experience, but then chalk it up to an every day experience. THAT person didnt listen to me, so, no one really listens. Ya know what i mean?

Further more, Im sure that poor gaurd thinks, "what a bitch, I asked her how she was doing, and she didnt even look at me -- what a snob"

A bored housewife: a letter of complaint to Take Home Chef

Dear viewer relations,

I would like to make a comment/complaint about your show, "Take Home Chef". I used to watch this show all the time, and enjoyed it, until I started to notice that the people that Curtis was "taking home" were all particularly affluent people. I personally do not have anything against affulent people, but I find this frustrating when watching "Take Home Chef" for many different reasons. First off, there is the issue of representation. As I have already mentioned, it seems to me that the people Curtis are cooking with are, by and large, people that are of a higher socio-economic back ground. Hence, the show does not take a reflective sample of the population, but rather focuses on a specifically small sample. Unfortunetly, what this leads to is obvious: the creation of a show where the main characters are people that the majority of your viewers can not identify with. Even worse, not only can they not identify with the people on your show, but they end up disliking or even resenting these people that "need help". The whole premise of this show is to help people, and yet time and time again you select those who really have the means to help themselves, ingoring so many people that truely need the assistance, people who cannot afford to take a cooking class, or dine out in restaurants every other evening (unlike most of the people on your show). Never have I watched Take Home Chef and thought "well thats great, he really helped that couple out", but have often thought, "those people can afford their own personal chef, what on earth is he even doing there". The last show I watched, I turned off after the crew pulled up into this woman's drive way, in her brand new Lexus, to her towering eight bedroom home, which over-looked the ocean. I just find it distasteful, frustrating, and such a shame that you, as a programming entity as well as a helping body, can not effectively represent the population at large, and provide assistance to a group who are most able to find means to help themselves, while a majority of the population remains ignored.

Thank you for your time in reading my concern,
T*****A D**E

2 ton paper weight

Well... we've been experiencing some problems with our bronco. Whenever you use the clutch it makes this grinding sound, thats sort of reminiscent to the sound of a lawnmower going over a tin can. The breaks squeek. There is a bad oil leak. The break fluid drains out as soon as you fill it up. Smoke billows out from under the hood if its running more than 10 minutes. It makes a weird whining sound. So, yeah, theres a few things going on with the bronco. The other day, we were going on some light house tour with some people from class, and our car wouldnt start, and so we decided we should take it in.

Well.. long story short, everything that could be wrong with the thing IS wrong with it, and the mechanic went out of his way to explain to us just WHY it would be unsafe for us to drive it home. The owner and manager came to talk to us about how he "cant emphasize enough that they dont recomend that we drive it home". The blue book value of our bronco is 1200$ if its in perfect condition... and well as i have explained its far from that. The estimated cost of fixing just the most major things (ie the clutch and the breaks -- which by the way are pretty much totally out), is appz 3500$. So, alas, we now have a 2 ton paper weight sitting in our parking spot, collecting dust. At least we got home ok from the shop.
:)

evolution

i dont have anything to say really .. I just saw this video, and thought some of you may like to see it - if you havent yet.


www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMxxelZHs8Y&NR


Im not technologically inclined like some of my friends (tom) who can just type a word and the word links whomever clicks on it to a certain site. I actually have to put the web address. Its less pretty but it works.

and so it was a trip to vancouver

Hello hello hello everyone in blog land. Like the new look? I figured, the new year deserves a new look, so i hacked off all my hair, changed my blog back ground, converted it to a new version (im no longer in beta version, whatever the hell that means), and due to a massive perplexion brought on by my frenchi friend mel, i also changed my blog name, to something that will suit me where ever i may end up. My new and improved blog name is now "itinerant_tee" and for those of you who arent scholars, this is what it means:

itinerant \eye-TIN-uhr-uhnt\, adjective:1. Passing or traveling from place to place; wandering.

(dont feel bad, i had to look it up)

So, death to cali t! Death to the old blog... and so long hair. I know its not the biggest picture, but i havent taken any but this one, since i had my hair cut. By the way, thanks Cheryl for the awesome clips. For those of you who dont know, or are totally stupid, that is my mom... Jerrie. (the spelling of my moms name is just for your Kat, as you seem to spell it more and more wrong everytime you try ;)

Vancouver was great. I cant tell you how nice it was to see everyone. Thank you rachel for comming to get me from seattle, and dont worry, you dont have to pay that speeding ticket if you dont plan on going down there ever again. Just think of it this way, I wont make you come back to seattle to get me next time if you havent paid the ticket off by then.

We had a nice little get together at my moms place, and pretty much everyone made an appearance. Even Tanya and scotty... i am totally highly impressed they made it, even if it was close to midnight. After they left, we broke out the trivial persuit pop culture, cause we are that cool, and played till after 1, and finnished off most of the grub (note to blog readers, rosy makes the best chocolate cake IN THE WORLD).

Here are some random shots from that night:


Ya ya ya... i know your thrilled to have your picture posted kat.. but in less you plan on flying down to california, theres really not one damn thing you can do about it... is there? hehehe.. no theres not.

Ha! dont let this picture fool you, neither of these two are sweet OR innocent. Just FYI.

We went to the hudsons landing one night, and though i cant speak for everyone else, i thought it was a blast! I think that may have been my favorite night in town... and thats not just because i got to kick toms ass at pool, but that sure helped. It was just all around a great night. Here is the hudsons landing:

After, we stopped by tom and mels new place so anita and i could see it. Totally cool place. Here is a shot of us, minus mel, on the way up to their suite.

So that, in a nut shell, was my trip to vancouver. There was a few coffees at the grind, lots of good food ( still cant believe there are 14$ salads at earls), and lots of laughs. On a serious note though, i have to say that it was sort of weird going back, I guess even though it hasnt been that long, it feels like its been forever since i had been there, and because so much has changed with me, i guess i was sort of expecting vancouver to have changed as well. On the other hand, i would have been highly upset if i had gotten there and everything was different. Ill say this, it was good to see everyone, and it was especially great to have some time with my mom. I even beat her at scrabble once! Nothing like growing up and beating your parents at the things that they taught you how to do. Feels good... feels damn good. Choke on that mom! hehehehe. Anyway. I love you all, and it was great to see you.

Oh yeah, i have one last thing to say to you guys (for old times sake):