When I was in 6th grade, my grandmother died on my birthday. The next year, my great-uncle died. On my birthday in 8th grade, I didn’t want to get out of bed. Instead, I wanted to pretend that the day never begun, so that someone else’s life would not have to end.

CPH is at the vet right now, with our middle child Shasta. It’s the first time we’ve been back to the vet since Ferris died. He called me halfway through the visit, and immediately warned me that his battery might die. As he was saying something about a blood test, the line went dead.

Does anyone else see a circle here?

We are super crazy busy at work, so I ran down to the restaurant on the third floor for lunch. While waiting for my food, I was reading an article about how Smokey Bones is procreating like bunny rabbits and about how they are succeeding as an unconventional chain restaurant (they have cucumber salsa – HUZZAH!). The last line of the article read something like this, (I kid you not): “We have the potential to be as big as Olive Garden or Red Lobster; Maybe even bigger!”
I ask you…
WTF?

Go here to hear it.

So, I’m thinking of doing a redesign of popular stranger. But, I haven’t drawn anything, yet. If you have any suggestions, please share.
I remember as a kid telling my mom that I was bored, that I had nothing to do. She would sigh and tell me that one day I would be glad that I had nothing to do. I specifically remember sighing, laughing, and telling my mom that she was a loon for saying that. Ok, admittedly, I probably didn’t use the the word “loon”, it was probably more like “crazy-head” or “funny lady”.
Oh, how I’m filling my tummy with those words now.
CPH’s birthday is this weekend, so R* and I are planning a super-bash for Friday night. It’s also our friend M*’s birthday, so we’re planning a double party. We’re using this site for some of the decorations. One idea floating around the Beeler household is a picture of CPH and M*, rasterbated and hung in the arch as a curtain. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

First, let me apologize for the poor quality of the following pictures. I was playing with my camera the night before and had it set on some weird setting that N* fixed as soon as he looked through my lens. I thought about making everything black and white, but CPH says he likes the “washed out look”.
Woke up around 7:30 on Saturday morning and headed a little east and a little less south to a small town in Ohio to meet the H*s at the Ohio State Renaissance Festival.
H* and N* met while we were all in college together. H* is absolutely amazing at keeping in contact with her friends from the past (this is only one of the many things that I admire about her).
Their daughter, M* has the most advanced vocabulary of any small child that I have ever met.
Ok, here are the rest of the pictures.
If you can, try to take a look at the little digital movie on the page. N* was brave enough to go up front at one of the shows. During his challenge (in order to get a flower for his lady, he had to complete a challenge), he had to chase one of the actors around professing his love and need for said actor. While we were waiting for N* to be given his challenge, I leaned over to H* and told her that I appreciated N*, because I knew that CPH would never do anything like that. CPH’s response: Would you want me to do something like that?

OH, also, while I was in Ohio, I called my friend W*, who I thought, but wasn’t sure, might be living close to where I had found myself. He didn’t answer his phone, much like he won’t return my emails, which, at the time, only helped to prove that he has, in fact, disappeared. But I got an email from him the next day, where he was giving some lame ass excuse about how his phone didn’t ring at his parents house (WHICH WAS EVEN CLOSER TO WHERE I HAD FOUND MYSELF!!), blah blah blah.
But, I have to admit, it was nice to finally hear from him, even if he is giving lame ass excuses.

More pictures to come. I met the H*’s north of Cincinnati yesterday for some Renaissance fun. H* and I couldn’t get over how much this looks like Dave Davenport, a boy we knew back in our days at the EKU BSU.

could it be?

There are not many songs that send shivers down to my bones. KEXP is playing Mad World from Donnie Darko and I have to admit that, in the last few minutes of hearing this song, my mood has completely changed. I feel a weight on my shoulders. I want to cry. I want to crawl under my desk and hide from my destiny. I greatly respect whoever decided to use that song in the movie and for making me feel the way that I do, right at this very moment.

Amazing that, while writing this, another song has come on and I am now back to my normal self.

CPH and I went to Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner last night. Everytime I go there, I order the Italian Cream Soda, because for only 3 bucks you get to take home a tall skinny glass with the spaghetti factory logo. Which, at this moment, sounds rather ridiculous because I am not a girl that likes logo-fied products. Regardless, we left the glass there and, looking back, perhaps leaving it there like a baby on a doorstep is a sign that my obsession with italian cream sodas (that come with your own keepsake glass) is over.
When we got home, there was the most adorable kitten sitting on our front porch. I sat outside and the cat jumped into my lap and sat there for a good half hour. R*, who fancies herself a self-proclaimed push-over when it comes to animals, came out to walk down to the DQ for some dinner, but got sidetracked, when she saw what has to be (did I say this already) the most adorable kitten.
We left him outside last night, even though he tried to follow us in. CPH said something legitimate about not knowing if the cat had any diseases and if we were going to bring him in, we would need to have him checked out. We left a blanket for him on the porch, but he wasn’t there this morning.
Will you laugh at me when I say that maybe God sent us the kitten so that he could eat the creature that has been visiting us? I think that R* must agree, because she has dubbed him Mouse.

I thought that I had gotten away from CD purchases. But MP3 cds are not, at the moment, working in the scion and i want to go and buy this right now on CD so I can put it in my car and listen to it many, many times over.

_Apocolyptic times.
_Running away from an omniscient, omnipowerful (and did I say- invisibile at times?) evil being (dressed as, of course, Darth Vader). I can usually fly when running away from danger, but my hands are full and there is a child with me.
_Having to climb over a fence
_Running across a field (i dream alot of pastures)
_Finding an abandoned farmhouse and going up the stairs into the attic. Being confused because DV is there, waiting for us.
_Getting lifted from the ground as I try to run away and being thrown into a fountain. While I’m in midair, I notice that E* is being thrown into the same fountain. We hit the water at nearly the same time and we slam against an edge of the fountain. He puts his arm around me and I feel safe. It’s a weird kind of feeling, like the evil being was just a dream.

Don’t think for a second that I won’t be studying these before my next game.

J* and I went over to Circle Center early this afternoon (late this morning) for the Chocolate Fest. I am enjoying my Mini Chocolate Cinnamon Cupcakes with Dark Swiss Chocolate Ganache at this very moment.

I’m a little sad that CPH has cleaned out our music folder which means that almost all of my latest new music finds (that were on mp3 cds that we just trashed last night because they weren’t working in our scion) are now gone.

I guess it was time for new music anyway.?.

Drew this while listening to a Postal Service song whose lyrical beauty has inspired a wonderful name for my friend A*’s first blog.

The A*’s stopped by for a visit tonight while R* and I were chatting on the front porch. I would have to say that unannounced visitors is one of my favorite things in the world.
Our trip to London is officially booked and I’m very excited. Any ideas about things we must see?

CPH and I drove to Nashville on Friday. It’s funny, now, to think that we lived so close to Nashville for so many years and I can’t remember ever spending more than a few hours at a time in the city. It’s a beautiful city (not, mind you, as beautiful as the most beautiful city in Tennessee) and I think I’d go back to visit.
We actually went to spend the weekend with N*, who has been doing some of her med school work at Vanderbilt during the month of September. She and R* have been apart for nearly the entire summer(less a week in August when he went south to visit her and every weeekend this month). She went to Equador for the summer months to work in clinics and to learn a language. She was back for a day and then had to move to Nashville for a month. I don’t know how they’ve done it. She’s coming back this Friday for good and I’m very excited (but not nearly as excited, I’m sure, as her husband).
So we get there Friday night. R* has booked us a room through Priceline. It’s a nice hotel in what seems to be the FIRE district. Two double beds, a sleeper sofa and a tiny kitchenette. This, of course, was much more than CPH and I needed, but the price was unbeatable. R* and N* meet us at the hotel and we head out for some dinner.
We go to a sushi bar near Vanderbilt and I try my hand, for the very first time, at chopsticks (correction – was forced to learn the art of chop-um-sticking (?) as this restaurant had no forks in sight). I think I did a stand-up job and tried chopsticks again at a Thai restaurant the next day even though forks were offered. Is it normal for your hands to cramp after a weekend of eating noodles and rice?
After dinner, we had drinks and dessert at a rum bar. We sat outside and smoked and debated whether Kenneth Cole shirts were to be worn by gay men only. Normal conversation, really.
Saturday, we met an old high school friend for lunch. It was absolutely amazing to see T*. I don’t think he’s changed much at all. He’s in a band. Hopefully, we can talk the band into coming here to play. I need to look into that.
That night we went to a mediocre Irish Pub and went and saw a little-better-than mediocre movie.
I came back to hear that our roomie went and saw this without me and I am very, very jealous.

See pics here of my first major art purchase. This was from a silent auction that took place at the Harrison Center this past winter. Isn’t it pretty?

Earlimart will soon be releasing a new album. Every time I hear something new from this album, I think I’m hearing one more previously unreleased Elliot Smith song. I know that these guys were friends with Elliot and this album is some sort of ode to Elliot, but it still kind of freaks me out.

I find it inspiring that S* wrote to his future-self to remind his future-self of the things that his current (now past)-self thought were worth remembering.
I guess that’s what I’m doing (in part) with this blog. Writing and paint-ing words and pictures that I will look back at to help me remember where I was (mentally, physically, and even but to a lesser degree, spiritually) at certain points in my life.
Perhaps, it’s not really inspiration that I feel, but vindication for the sometimes-what I feel is pointless ramblings of my inner-self.

Just had a hankering to go to a high school football game.

I mean, like a really, really strong hankering. Like, I could taste the jeans and the baggy sweatshirt and the bobbing pony-tail.

In talking with my friend, M*, who believes that anyone residing in any state above Tennesse is a yankee, I realized that I’m not exactly sure what does constitue calling someone a yankee.

Here’s one perspective.

We buried our baby today. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

Was sitting outside with B*, P* and M* at B*s place this weekend. We were talking loudly. M* had called me a hooker because I didnt bring my cloves and P* was telling us about her friend who had said to a clearly non-non white person, (something to the effect of), Whats up, my ni*er!. So, there we are – having a very nice time. Were sitting up on B*s roof and we hear from down below someone trying to get our attention from the parking lot. There are rumors that, from where we sit, those looking from the parking lot can hear our voices, but cannot see us. I presume this would be true if those trying to see the faces that belonged to the invisible voices were not carrying a flashlight. The person from below yells at us, we hunker to the ground, he shines a light onto the roof and P raises her hands and cover her faces much like I imagine a prisoner of war would react after he has been released from a dark cave.
So, were caught. B*, unable to hide from the bright light, starts responding to the man from below. The man from below asks if the truck in the parking lot belongs to one of us. B* says no. The man from below asks if we know who it belongs to. B* says yes. I laugh, inwardly, at the simplicity of B*s answers.
The man screams, Well, tell me who it is, man! Ive got his checkbook!. WTF?
Seems someone had broken the window out of the truck, reached in and stole the poor souls checkbook out of the front seat. Meanwhile, the man from below had seen this go down, had chased the checkbook-thief down the street, caught up with him, had thrown the checkbook-thief to the ground, and had recovered said checkbook.
A man walking down a street sees a car window being broken and a thief taking off with the booty. He chases the man, tackles him and recovers that which was stolen.
Apparently, this is a common occurrence within our downtown neighborhoods. P* tells a story of R*, whose cell phone was stolen from his car while he was in a grocery store. He calls the phone and barters with the thief for the safe return of his cell phone. He goes to meet the thief (along with a policeman), but cant get the cell phone before the thief runs away. An old lady chases the thief, gives him the what for, and gets the cell phone back for R*.
Fing A, man. Fing A.

Top five reasons I’m glad that E* is my friend:
5. He likes socks more than I like shoes.
4. He is not afraid to admit that he is in love with Jason Martin.
3. He despises peas even more than I do.
2. He would rather be due east of the center of attention.
1. He buys me milkduds.

Below is an email that I got from a friend last night:

tonya…

i just wanted to show you this picture that m* drew. i asked her who it was, and she said “it’s your friend mom, tonya!” no lie. i am cracking up!

hope you like it!

h*

This is my friend C* and his wife A*. They are living far, far away.
C* and I met at EKU. My best memories of C* involved the ravine, his renditions of his adventures as Batman (thus explaining why he could not afford to stay out with me past 10:30 pm) and camping at Big South Fork River.
I’ve never met his wife. But since they’ve moved, she and I have spoken on several occasions. We were supposed to go to a going away party for them both before they left, but we didn’t. I’ve been kicking myself since.

I was just told in a staff meeting that I (as well as our entire department) might be changing from exempt to non-exempt status. What does that mean for me? Full 8 hour days and no more leaving at 2pm and making it up the next week. But it also means overtime if I have to work over my 8 hours.
So, I’m unsure if this is a good thing or not.

I have become a very big fan of this show. WinAmp is the very first thing I turn on in morning and his playlist is the first site I visit. Here lately, I have been unable to listen to John (due to a technical difficulty) and it has made me very, very sad. CPH suggested that I email the station. So I did. Here’s what I wrote:
...I am an avid listener to John in the morning, but here lately, I will be going about my morning business and realize that there is only silence coming from my headphones. I tried streaming from your station and also getting to you guys from Winamp’s internet radio and both times the station will die within 10 minutes of listening to it. I’m able to start it up again, but after another ten minutes I am in silence.
I realize this may be a problem on my side and I will be looking into that, but I wanted to let you guys know, just in case it was something that could be remedied on your end.
Thanks…
I emailed this note to an anonymous email around 9 am today. How impressed am I that I just got a response back! Here’s what it said:
...Tonya,
I think we’ve resolved this issue—can you let me know if you’re still
having problems with the stream?...
Unbelievable.
I started playing the station 12 minutes ago and it hasn’t died on me yet.
I mean, who am I? I’m just a midwesterner who was given their name from someone who used to live in their parts. Responsiveness like that makes me smile.

It excites me to no end that, of all my entries, this entry receives the most visitors (under, of course, the main page, my daily reads, and my pictures page).
Goes to show that many more people loved the BSU than we all thought.
Turns out that G* and L* (he found me today) have moved to the most beautiful place in these here US’s of A and I am a very, very jealous girl.

Because, perhaps, I am self-conscious and self-aware that my friends are much hipper than I could ever hope to be, I often find myself going over my words in my head before I say them out loud. Last night, while sitting with R* on the porch swing, and this morning, while walking to work, I realized that this is a good practice.
I had a friend in middle school that did this but had not, however, grasped the thinking inside the head without mouthing the words part. It reminded me of a child first learning to read to his/herself. And it kind of freaked me out.