A Couple of Chuffing Questions

It's been a real fucked up day. My computer program hates me and is using Chinese symbols for my icons/buttons.



I was told to uninstall and re-install to fix the problem. Great! I'm so thrilled you told me that Bentley! Of course, considering some of the things that are happening around me to people I know, I should really stop bitching! I like to bitch about stuff though. I really like to bitch about China!

Here's my real point to writing today! I'm doing a gift exchange with friends. The gift needs to be generic and non-gender specific. In addition to said gift, I am including a small home made gift. What I would like are some ideas! What would you like that is small and relatively cheaply priced?? Small bottle of alcohol? Wine? Calendar? Crossword puzzles? A block of cheese? "Don't Let The Pigeon Stay Up Late" book? [Preferably something I can find that is not made in China, thanks]

So, give me some ideas while I give you some words!

rock:

1. To use. To make do with, usually to great effect.

In use: We don't need you to make the spare bed, we can rock the couch.

2.Streetball term for the basketball.
3. A form of cocaine.

V-Card: Virginity. All virgins have a "V-card" until they "cash it in" for sex.
BA: Badass, pronounced as bee-ay (as opposed to bitch being bee-ya).

NOW, a word question for you! Twitter friend @ibificus used the word "chuffed". Having never heard the word before I looked it up and found several different meanings. Now I'm curious. How do you use the word "chuff/ed"?

chuffed=adjective British Informal. delighted; pleased; satisfied. [As in, I'm chuffed by stories with sheep!]

chuffed=adjective British Informal. annoyed; displeased; disgruntled. [As in, I get so freaking chuffed when people talk to me when my body language says "get the fuck away".]

chuff (chuffed, chuffing, chuffs)=verb. To produce or move with noisy puffing or explosive sounds. [As in, I really didn't want to move those boxes, so in point I chuffed through the task so everyone knew.]

chuff (chuffs)=noun. A noisy puffing or explosive sound, such as one made by a locomotive. [As in, well, you get the idea!]

[By the way, those of you following my blogs (all One of you), you might have noticed my lack of letter writing as I noted I would do...nice of you to notice...I'm a slacker, you should know that by now]

A Not-So-Funny Cat Pee Story

There are those that like cats and those that do not. I fall into a category very close to "hater". Cats are mean, they are vindictive, they care only of themselves; they are in fact much like myself. I imagine this to be the start of our inharmonious relationship! Despite my deep feeling of angst for the creatures that try to suck human's breath out at night, I associate with the "cat lovers" because they are at least animal people. One of these said "cat lovers" is my former blog crush Justin. In his Two Week notice blog post he shared a picture of his cats...



His commentary about cat pee along with this picture made me think of a story about cats and the work required to move them. The important lessons are thus:

-Cats should be moved in carriers

-Cats freak out to everything

-Cats really are mean

-Cat pee stings in fresh wounds

Here is the story...

Eva and I were about 17; old enough to drive, old enough to know better, young enough to still try stupid things! She was moving to a new house, I had offered to help her since it was hard to not help her considering our attachment at the hips!

We were transporting many of her belongings in her old red Ford Escort that had this tricky fuel switch. You see, after the whole Ford Pinto incident of the 70's, Ford installed fuel switches in all Fords whose tanks could be rear ended causing a massive explosion. Eva's car was special. Not only did her car have the switch, but every time we hit a road bump or pot hole hard enough, the fuel was switched off! So imagine if you will, cruising down pot holed Benton Avenue (in Granite City), to fall into one of the holes and then have the car simply stop! No fuel! So Eva would have to get out of the car, go to the back, do some magic (for I honestly have no idea what she had to do in order to get the switch back on), and then off we go again to the next pot hole!

After several moves of the belongings we came to the final items to be transported, the cats. Linus and Azzy were a couple of nutty cats to begin with. I didn't hate them, I in fact thought they were all right for cats. Everything changed after the big move.

We didn't have carriers. This is a huge part of the story. We did not have pet carriers!! We just put the cats in the car, to roam free, to kill me! Eva starts the car and pulls away; Azzy, hides inside the dashboard. I kid you not, the cat found a crevice for which she could squeeze and then she was inside the dashboard. I would have tried to sooth her but Linus was literally bouncing off every surface. I couldn't understand what was happening. Eva, seeing the error of her ways, drove faster to get this nightmare over with as soon as possible. Linus was everywhere, all at once; back-and-forth, side-to-side, demolishing everything in his path. It was then we hit a pot hole. I don't know if this is when I was nearly clawed to death or if it had already occurred but while Eva was magically repairing the car, Linus and I were fighting to the death.

The details are fuzzy, but somewhere in between being clawed nearly to death, Eva repairing the car, and finally arriving at the new place, Linus returned to his chaotic to-and-fro frenzy while leaking urine. Cat pee was everywhere! All over the windows, all over the car, all over me.

As time moves on I may forget some of the details, I may forget Linus' name, but I do not think I will ever forget the way cat pee stings in fresh cat scratches!


The word...
adorkable: Both dorky and adorable. A higher state of being all dorks strive towards. [I like to think I have reached this state]

Please Comment

Hi! Please comment on this blog to tell me how you are doing! I don't care who you are or how you got to seeing this blog, but if you are here, it means you should be commenting to tell me how you are doing! Sick? Lonely? Excited? Overjoyed? Missing someone? Loving someone?

Anything you have to say, I want to hear!

Now, for regular readers (who should also be commenting), I have updated my picture blog. Very slowly getting those images added! Check it out at stephysite-picaday.blogspot.com

Word of the day . . .
couching distance: The distance one can reach without leaving the couch or sofa.

My Sodden Friends

I am a street cleaner. I walk along dirty streets and I find my sodden friend who is dirty and beaten to exhaustion, pain, and suffering. I kneel to my friend and hold his face endearingly so that he may trust me. I help him to his feet, I drape his arm around my shoulders, and I limp him along until he resembles a human being once again. The care and journey have been wonderful and full of so much seemingly true love.

It is then that I find I am no longer needed. My friend moves on, not turning to wave, not holding my hand, not even a hug. I wipe my tears quietly as I return to my thankless job. Am I a mother at heart? Do I ask for this job? Do I have "aid" written somewhere I cannot see? Is it my destiny that I carry this burden as Atlas would bear the heavens?

It is hard to explain what I mean to say. It is hard for me to explain what it is I feel I need to write. But I feel it. I feel as though I have particular friends that are so close to me that I love without doubt. Love of course varies. That is not the point. The fostering is the point. I foster my friends out of the rut they have fallen to. I foster my friends until they may stand on their own two feet. Just when it is that I see them happy and well, I have to watch them walk off, and away. They go, and I stand, not allowed to walk along, not wanted alongside. It only gets worse when my friends want to tell me about their new adventures, their new life, and their new friends. Do they know how it hurts? Do they care that it hurts? Do they not see my tears in plain sight? Or is it the tears that drive them further from me?

It is not fair to say, or seem, as though this applies to all friends, for that is not the case. I have my friends that return the favor; I have friends that know nothing of fostering; I have friends who are family. But I find that I fall in love with those who are my sodden friends. Perhaps it is the care I put into them. Perhaps it is our journey together that opens my heart to them.

Simply to say I fall in love is unfair. I have to let my heart out of its tightly closed box for this statement to apply. I love so many people, but yet only some have any real piece of my heart. It also seems that those who have their tiny fleshed rock that is part of me use it when they need a skipping stone, when they need a worry rock, when they need to impress another. It is rarely used to cradle and care for, I imagine it is rarely ever thought of as endearingly as the one who gave it to them!

It is unfair for my other friends who will probably never be given any ample piece of my heart. I will holdout, never loosening the grip on my heart box to the people who will care for it the best. Yet the sodden friends who will toss me aside, toss my heart aside, will earn the most from me. Why is this? Why do we always do this to ourselves? Why must we love those who hurt us?

And it is now, laying awake when I should be sleeping that I think about this. It is now that I want to cry for the street cleaner who will never change for the hopes that one day her sodden friend will choose to stay, wipe her tears for her. Even when there are hundreds around, it is a very lonely, thankless, and misunderstood job. It is a job I never want to live without even when it means continuing a life in pain.

If You Know, Please Tell Me

I never understand how people can just let their heart be out there open to the attack of the world. It's like slaughtering oneself. I can't do it. Perhaps I've learned that all will end in broken pieces so just don't put yourself there for the torment. If you know, please tell me. How is it that people have carefree hearts?

On another topic, this week is surreal to me (4 famous ppl dead, 1 dog put to sleep, 1 dog with bad hives, 1 concussion, 1 indescribable mood). So much has happened that I'm beginning to believe this week was really an entire month and I've just lost track of time. If you know, please tell me. Have I really lost time?

I am getting tix for three shows (Eng. Beat, TMBG, Rev. H. Heat). I think they'll be good shows to catch. Did you want to tag along? If you know, please tell me. Are you going?

I had a nightmare last night about a friend's former ex-fiance. I had dreamed that he was "stalking" me. By "stalking me", I mean that he was stalking my friend through me and my blog. He went through and favorite'd any post she was mentioned in and I found out he was a friend of mine through myspace through a fake name. It was creepy, I woke up sweating. If you know, please tell me. Are you really following me?

Word-
digitard: Anyone who has difficulty using technology for even the most basic of tasks, such as making a call on a cell phone.

Thank Your London Friend

If you go to my real blog site at stephysite.blogspot.com, you can now choose to "like" or "dislike" each post. Took me forever to get that on there. It should be as simple as adding it via the easy editor; but I always have to go and mess with the actual code which sort of voided that easy part. But alas, I got it there, so you should go "Like" or "Dislike" your favorite posts!

Other than that, I'm drawing a blank today. It could be that all of my enthusiasm has gone to the wayside today. I feel like a giant slug that just wants to go back to sleep.

I wanted to say thanks to Holly for asking her friend about London and for letting me borrow him should I need any help while there. I really appreciate the assistance! It's nice to know that there is someone on that side of the planet that'll help an insane stranger! So thanks Holly and Friend! (Holly, please do warn Friend that I am tilted a little to the left when it comes to sanity; I'd hate to scare him!)

A'ight, talk later maybe...

word-
hobeau: An unclean boyfriend.