"Do you know what fisting is?"

That was one of the first things out of my mother's mouth when she called me Saturday night on the phone.

Of course the minute I repeated the question back to her ("Do I know what fisting is?") and the S/O heard what she'd just asked, he about died, mostly because of the fact that I've become rather, uh, familiar with the subject in the last few months or so. After I got myself away from his laughing, smacking of the sofa and incessant moaning of "Oh my gawwwwwwwwd", I was able to find out that the reason (oh thank God, there's a reason! Wait, what if it's a reason I shouldn't hear unless I have the money to shell out for at least three decade's worth of therapy?) she was asking was because she had heard from Helen about the "Sunday Night Sex Show" (damn you, Sue Johanson!) and she was shocked to find out that "regular people do this sort of thing all the time!".

Uh, you don't say...

Christ, why me? Next thing I know, she'll be asking if I know what rimming or BDSM is and am I fully aware that people do that sort of thing all the time?

No, Mom, not a clue.

In other less horrifying news, we're moving and looking into getting a house. Mom's neighbor was put into a nursing home several months ago and the house has been abandoned ever since so we asked the cousin, who has power of attorney, if we could fix it up and rent it from him. He's supposed to contact his attorney today and then he'll get back to us. It would be nice because the house needs a bit of work and since we'd have to put a few grand into it, he'd probably give us pretty cheap rent and it has a yard that's just as big, if not bigger, than Mom's 1/3 of an acre yard, four bedrooms, and a garage. If that doesn't pan out, I've also called about a two bedroom in Aurora (closer to where the S?O works) that's going for 750 and will allow dogs. It's pretty close to my "Aunt" Janet and she said she'd check the place out, make sure it looks all right, but if the agent okays everything and we're both interested, I think we'll just go there one day this week. But either way, we're looking to get out of here by mid-April... it''s just too insane paying eight hundred and fifty dollars for a two bedroom apartment that we don't NEED. We share the same bed, the cat (Christ, the cat...) is content to wander the house, why do we need the spare bedroom? Sure, we have a lot of shit (book collections, liquor collections, miniature football helmet collections... the last one of which I havenothing to do with whatsoever), but we could most definitely figure out a way to make it fit into a one bedroom apartment. But will the leasing office let us go into a one bedroom apartment? No, not without signing a new lease and paying a seven hundred dollar moving fee. The Ex Whore of a Roommate left the apartment and broke the lease, not me, why should I have to pay for her stupidity? I've tried to explain this to the leasing office several times, that and also the fact that you have to make enough to qualify for a two bedroom and technically, since the S/O isn't on the lease, I don't make enough to pay for the two bedroom by "myself". They sympathized, sure, then offered me a one bedroom if I'd pay the seven hundred dollar fee and sign a new goddamn lease. Suck my what? Bastards.Yeah, I'm a tad pissed off at them. Oh, and apparently half of our apartment building (plus some people in the building at the end of the lot) lives in "unsanitary" living conditions that are attributing to the pharaoh ant problem that existed before me or the Cat Lady down the hall ever moved in. From day one we've had little teeny tiny red ants in the bathroom that won't go away no matter how much I Raid their asses and I've called and made several complaints. The Semi Cute Neighbor across the hall has them, the Cat Lady has them, I have them, the Possibly Gay Guy Next Door has them and those are just the people I've managed to get to know. I really think the apartment is just trying to transfer the blame here and make us all think our apartments (and in the poor Cat Lady's case, her four cats are being blamed as well) are the problem and not the cleanliness of the buildings. They came to remove the satellite dish that was on our balcony (found out it belongs to the Possibly Gay Guy who will now be known as Possibly Gay Guy Who Is Getting Fined Six Hundred Dollars) and they called me to inform me that the fishtank in the living room has to go and our bedroom is a fire hazard because of all the boxes and "appliances". I don't know what appliances they're talking about but the boxes are mostly mine and the S/O's stuff still packed up from the stint in Alafreakinbama and a little bit of the Ex Whore of a Roommate's stuff thrown in because she never got it and stole my Winnie The Pooh comforter. Speaking of the Ex Whore of a Roommate, her friend James still has his fishtank here and all the supplies that go with it. That's the fishtank they're referring to when they say "get the fishtank out". It's just sitting in the middle of our living room (well, more the kitchen but you get the picture) and has been since her stupid ass said she'd keep it here in November. The leasing office has made it abundantly clear that I can trash it but since I know I would be pissed if someone threw out two hundred plus dollars of my property (hell, who am I kidding? I know I'd be pissed). I've tried to contact him since February by going over to his apartment, leaving messages with his stepmother and so forth. If he doesn't come by next week to pick it up, anyone that lives in the Chicago area (or further, I guess, if you want to pay assloads of shipping and handling) that might want a 20 gallon (I think) aquarium with all the fixin's, including tubing, fish food, decorations and lights, just let me know.

I am loving the fact that a woman from Illinois wrote the song "Redneck Woman". Mostly for the sole line of "Cause I'm a redneck woman, and I ain't no high class broad" and the mentioning of standing barefoot with a baby on one's hip. Mind you, she's from Southern Illinois which is as different as you can get from Chicago, at least that's what people will tell you. I guess it is different but I like it so I can't say it with the nasty tone you'll hear most people using when referring to it. I always enjoyed driving down to Urbana to see Vi at school and I had a great time when the S/O and I took our road trip and had to stay the night in Carbondale. Actually, I would give my left damn arm for some strawberry butter from the place in Carbondale and I really do think that once the paycheck comes in, it's time for a mini road trip to pick up some. Can it be called a mini road trip if the place is three hundred and fifty miles away? I don't know...

Work is just work. I start my first day of training today. My orientation was Tuesday and that mostly consisted of being appalled by the fact that all the new CNA's they hired are male except for yours truly and watching three anti-Union videos. There was one (thank god) girl in the class and she was the social services director who had been on a leave of absence for a few years to take care of her children. She was extremely hot and the minute she walked in the room, I shoved all my shit off the chair next to mine in hopes that she would sit next to me and not one of the cavemen surrounding me. Thankfully, she did and we talked about schooling, she used to be a CNA, magazines (she had a copy of Vogue's Shape issue and we talked about the fact that they actually used a bonafide plus size person in their "curvy" section this year), the disadvantages of being a DD cup (to the delight of about 2/3 of the cavemen), sex (alas, girl on girl action wasn't discussed) and benefits So, I have a new friend and that's always a good thing, right? I start on the floor tomorrow in the afternoon and that sucks because the S/O is in training 8-5 for the next 10 or 11 weeks. I had a phone interview today wth the same company that the S/O is working for and that went well so tomorrow, I go in and do a "real" interview, so we'll see how that goes. Oh, and apparently I lost out to the geriatric because the doctor's office never called on Friday. But in somewhat good news, they told us in orientation that they always have openings on all shifts , so I'm debating just telling them what happened and asking if I can go to day shift... it'd only be 7a-2:30 so not even a full eight hours and sure, I'd have to feed the residents not one but TWO lunches, but really that's when they're on their best behavior, when they know they're going to get fed. I may have to work a little harder on the day shift but ultimately, I think the time will go by much faster and it'll be better because I'll have the rest of evening at home and that's something I'm kind of adamant about. In fact, I think no matter what, I'd like to eventually keep a daytime job. I have always thought that I wanted, no, needed a mid-shift or overnight type job but the CNA course and getting up every damn day with the S/O when he goes to work has made me realize it's actually rather nice to have the early mornings to write or surf the Net and then all night to cook, clean, bang, watch TV, what ever the hell I WANT to do. There's my life in a nutshell, eh? Surf the net, cook, clean, bang, watch TV. Eh, as long as I'm enjoying myself, things are good.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day yesterday. Today is looking to be a little cooler but otherwise, equally gorgeous. I guess it's for the best that it's not 72 outside today because then I'd just be depressed about having to go to work and waste it away. Instead it's a balmy 48 degrees and it makes standing inside the oven they call a nursing home a lot more bearable. I really can't think of anything else that's happening or going on that's worth mentioning. Apparently April is the month to buy eggs and wallpaper/paint. I guess this works out because we are going to have to buy paint if we get the house by Mom's (eggplant! Ha) and well, eggs are eggs. I can always use eggs... fried eggs, fried rice, cookies, cakes, etc... Yeah, okay, now I'm just rambling about shit I'm reading on CNN... time to go!

before & after