So. I have a car. An itty bitty little four banger.
Yeah, that's her. One 2001 Mitsubishi Mirage. I call her Mira.
Itty bitty, yanno. You get what I'm saying.
So yesterday, on my birthday (which I forgot to leave a blog post up about, my bad), I went out to my buddy's house to see him and his mom and his friend who just got out of jail. They were all broke, and I had nothing to do all day. All my fun was gonna start after the sun went down, yo.
But I was bored and they were broke, and in Sedalia some ~30 miles down the highway, there was a place that bought scrap metal. Bret, Joe, and Bret's mom Perry all live out on farm land.... With rusted hunks of steel that hadn't moved in over fifteen years.
DING!! Idea!
We spent a couple hours going through a garage that looked like it was going to collapse any minute, a pole barn full of old tractor parts that you needed a tetanus shot just looking at, and cannabalizing a twisted ball of steel that may or may not have been a car half a century ago parked behind the hay shed. And then Perry and I laif the back seats down in Mira and her station wagon, and we loaded up. And then we had to do some shuffling. The station wagon held all the big pieces and my car had all the smaller bits... Which were denser and heavier.
My little car is a trooper, though. Almost 400 pounds of metal in the back end down the highway, struggling to maintain a 60 mph speed, and once we got weighed, unloaded, and paid, didn't bat an eyelash about the ordeal. Nary a mechanical issue.
I got my gas tank filled and nommy Starbucks treats because I'm a spoiled brat, and Perry is taking me to lunch at a little Cajun place in Sedalia Friday. I'm hoping it meets my standards.
Even though I didn't actually DO anything but drive, I had a lot of fun hanging out with good friends. Lots of laughs, lots of fun.
So, I got this nifty little toy, thanks to the fever I caught from somecoolpeople.
I bought an iPod Touch. And I must say, it is an awesome little gadget. All the power and capabilities of a laptop computer, the price of your average netbook, and conveniently sized to fit in my left butt pocket.
Can't argue with that.
I am thoroghly enjoying myself playing with it. Facebook, IMs, IRC, and a fuck-ton of nifty little pleasure apps, most of which are free.
I like the touch screen. After playing with it for a solid 8 hours yesterday, I got a text message, and started tapping the screen of my phone... Only to get embarassed when I remembered that my phone was not a touch screen and there was a keyboard there for a reason.
Yeah. I are geenioos.
These things are totally worth the money you spend on them, though. If you buy one, I heartily recommend getting at least a 32 gig iPod, for space fills up fast, and before you know it, the base model 8 gigs is full.
Go. Get one. Spread the fevah.
PS - yes, I did just post this from the new shiny. I am such a tech whore.
Sorry I haven't blogged lately. Went to Texas for a week with la familia, and when we came back, there was a weekend-long scramble of getting prepared for classes that started Monday for me, return to daycare for Daniel, and return to work for Ben. And then, yanno, the week of getting back into the swing of classes with new professors, new subjects, and new classmates.
Whoo.
Anyway. I was a genius earlier and fell asleep while playing me some KOTOR on a friend's borrowed Xbox 360 (I gotta get me one o' them, they're fun), and stayed asleep til 9 PM.
Yeah. No sleep for me.
So, time for some late night blogging. Proverbial counting sheep, as it were.
Besides, I know you're just DYING to hear how Texas went, and how my spawnling is doing. Yeah. You are. Don't lie.
Well. Let's start.
Hm.
To start it all off, this was Daniel and Redhead's first commercial flight. Redhead had only gone up in a little two-seater Cessna when his cousin had first got her pilot's license, and that has been some years ago. He'd never even set foot in an airport before the trip down to Texas, specifically Pasadena.
This was gonna be fun.
Redhead's older sister, Hippie Sister, took us halfway to Kansas City, where Redhead's mother picked us up to cart us the rest of the way. Many hugs were had at the airport, with Mom admonishing us to have lots of fun and take lots of pictures! Of course, I promptly forgot my camera at the townhouse most of the time, so not a lot of pictures were to be had. Sad face.
Never having been in an airport, much less flown, Redhead did not know of the joy of going through security. Empty pockets, take of jacket, take off shoes. "My shoes?!" Yes, sweetie, your shoes. Wait for TSA Dood to wave you through, walk through metal detector. Daniel and I went through with nary a blip, but Redhead's necklaces set off the alarm, so he had to back up and go through it once more.
Finally made it, juggling diaper bag, fat babeh, big puffy leather jacket, and my boots, trying not to topple over on my way to a bench. Of course, even sitting down made putting myself back together, because I couldn't exactly put Daniel down. He'd either fall over on the bench and roll off, and I wasn't going to put him on the floor and have every snotty old lady within ten miles berate me for bad parenting. I don't take kindly to that kind of nonsense, nosirree.
Finally got everything back together, and on our way to the gates we went! Then we sat. And sat. And sat. Oh hey, our turn to get on the plane!
We found seats near the back of a very full flight, with Redhead immediately going for a window seat. He didn't want to miss a thing! It was like watching a little kid: very excited, VERY animated. He loved the feeling of taking off and the sharp banking as we circled upwards, gaining altitude. For a bit, anyway.
Daniel handled flying better than Redhead did. Once we hit cruising altitude (for all of fifteen minutes, maybe?), he was fine. But going up or going down made him nauseous as all hell, and I made sure to keep a barf bag handy... just in case. Daniel just bounced and played, and didn't want any part of either a bottle of formula, nor a bottle of juice. Just chew on the nipple and he'd be happy.
Taking Daniel out into a crowd with that many people was cute to watch. I lost count of how many people stopped to comment on just how CUTE he was, whether in the airport or actually ON the plane. Makes Mommy proud, that does.
I mean, how can you argue with something THAT DAMNED CUTE?!?
Now, a note on our itinerary: the cheapest flight we could find for two adults with an infant in the lap, because we is poor young adults, one of which is a college student... We had to change planes in Chicago. Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Wait. Flying from KC to Houston, and you had a stop in CHICAGO?!" It's madness, it really is.
The plan was land in Chicago, refresh ourselves and change diapers in the hour between flights, and be in Houston by 9:30 that night. No big deal.
We touch down in Chicago, and two gates down was where we were supposed to board the next plane. On the way to the bathroom, I see that our connecting flight has been delayed by two hours. So, overall, we were stuck in Midway airport for three. Hours.
FAIL.
Not to mention that, since we had checked the weather and knew before leaving that it was supposed to be nice and balmy, in the 50s all week in Houston, so we didn't take any of our heavy winter gear. No gloves, scarves, hats, extra hoodies for jacket lining, nothing. And Redhead and I both smoke, so we took turns sitting with the baby to go outside to burn one before plane time.
When I took my turn, I was huddled in a corner out of the wind, smoked ONE cigarette, and when I came back in, the first two joints on all my fingers were BLUE.
BLUE, PEOPLE. BLUE.
Srsly fucking cold.
Also, somewhere in there I made a call to my mother, Ducky, to inform her that our plane was delayed. She needed to know, since she would be the one picking us up from the airport.
Much creative swearing later, I hung up. We waited some more, and FINALLY boarded the plane. FINALLY.
I had told my mother I would call her as soon as our tires hit the ground, since she lives close to Hobby, where we were flying into, and she could be outside by the time we got our bags and got out. And I did.
I like flying. It's a fun experience, for me. I just hate airports. Just thought I'd throw that out there. I'm sure many of you agree with me.
Navigating an airport that's busy at 11 PM is not fun. Doubly so when you have a very tired, very cranky infant. But, we made it to baggage claim, grabbed the big duffel bag Redhead and I were sharing and the carseat we had checked, and outside we went, my eyes peeled for the silver Mazda my mother drives.
Just as I spot her car sitting still behind people loading, she calls me. "Should I circle back around again, or park and come find you?" Stay right where you are, Ducky, we're coming to you.
Without warning, her doors are thrown open, and she jumps a little, squeals at seeing her grandbaby, and pops the trunk to put duffels in. She told me she was afraid that after having so many people around him, and not to mention not seeing Gramma Ducky in close to five months, she was terrified Daniel wouldn't remember her.
She need not have worried. She smiled through the back windshield at him while we were loading the trunk of the car, and his entire face lit up.
Before heading to Granny's townhouse, the paternal grandmother whose house I had grown up in, we stopped at Mamaw Wendy's, my maternal grandmother who chainsmokes and drinks beer all weekend long. Yeah, I come from that stock. Explains a lot about my sparkling personality, don't it? Lulz.
Daniel got hugged and bounced and generally spoiled rotten, when Ducky's phone went off. Big brother, Animal, was at the bar a few blocks away, and would appreciate a ride home. It was after midnight, on New Year's Eve, so everybody was starting to file out of the bars that close at 1 AM, and VERY drunk Animal needed a ride. Daniel stayed with Mamaw Wendy for more spoiling, and Redhead and I accompanied Ducky to go pick up Sir Drunk.
Animal was deep in conversation with someone of the female variety when we got there, so we ordered a round of drinks and waited. When he realized Mom was there, he rejoiced in the ecstatic way that only drunks can achieve, and again when he saw me. Laying eyes on Redhead, whom only my mother and younger brother had ever met, his face contorted into a savage scowl, and he snarled, "Who the hell are YOU?!?"
Animal, this is Redhead. "Oh. You're the carrot top." He then got much ragging for not being enough of a gamer geek and never having watched Science Fiction Theater 3000, or whatever the hell that show was. I don't know.
After drinks were consumed, back to Mamaw's we went, where little Daniel watched Animal like a hawk. He did not know what to think of the big drunk guy. After a bit of watching my mother carry Daniel around on her hip, I told her. "Put him down." What? "Put him on the floor, Mom." Giving me a strange look, she did as she was bid, and Daniel took off at a very fast crawl after my grandmother's cat.
Rejoice, for he doth crawl! He wasn't doing that the last time any of them had seen him. They were VERY happy to see he had progressed so far in the time since they'd last seen him. He has such a personality, and as I'm sure I've mentioned, he's so damned cute it's ridiculous.
The night wore on and on, and everyone was exhausted, so we said goodnight. Daniel was going to be staying with Mom for the night, because she had not had a chance to move the crib to the townhouse, and Redhead and I would be staying with Granny and Ginormous Little Brother. We made it in around 3 AM, collapsed in the full size bed my brother had abandoned for the night, and slept until almost noon, with no infant to wake us at asscrack o'clock.
The next morning, or afternoon, whatever you want to call it, we woke up just as I heard my little brother downstairs ask Granny, "When do you think they'll wake up?" I called down that we were awake now, and we shuffled downstairs to fill ourselves with coffee and step outside for a cigarette.
The rest of the week passed in a blur, with a few notable moments:
Taking Redhead to Galveston. He had never seen the ocean, much less seagulls or pelicans or a sandy beach, and I had to rectify that. He fell in love with the island, and asked me, "If we move down here, can we live in Galveston?" Um. No. Rent's hella expensive, and it ain't worth it. He loved chasing a seagull on the beach, and picked up a handful of seashells that actually washed in from the ocean, ya'll.
Palm trees. There were looooots of palm trees, which Redhead had also never seen. He was like a kid in a candy shop every time he saw one. "Look! Palm trees! Can we have one?"
Shooting with one of my #GBC buddies, Tomcat. He hosted us at his range, and let Redhead and I shoot til he ran out of ammo. Glock 30, a little Ruger .22, and two AR-15s, once chambered in 5.56, and one that was suppressed .45. Verrah noice.
He had never shot an Evil Black Rifle before, and he says he thoroughly enjoyed that zombie popper.
Letting Redhead eat REAL Texmex, not this fake chain shit they serve in Missouri. Best damn fajita tacos I've ever had are in a little taqueria in Pasadena called the Ranchito. Omnomnom. Good shit, yo.
Drove from Pasadena, TX, to Brenham, TX to meet my Aunt Sara for lunch, because she just had to see "her boy". She held him the entire time, feeding him tomatoes from her salad, and he ate half of her baked potato soup. More spoiling.
Lunch at the cafe where my mom works, where Daniel got lots of attention from all my mom's customers, and he ate a LOT of grown up food. Boiled carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower from the buffet line, chewed on some chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and french fries. Om nom nom nom. Daniel likes eating grown up food like nobody's business. My mother also announced that Redhead was going to eat a REAL chicken fried steak, not that deep-fried cardboard that they serve you at Country Kitchen in Warrensburg. Said chicken fried steak was bigger than his head, and he managed maybe 1/3 of it. He has the appetite of a bird.
We drove around and I showed Redhead Pasadena and South Houston. We had a lot of laughs, a lot of fun, and my family was glad to finally meet the guy who had given them a grandson/great grandson/great nephew/whatever. Ben and I thoroughly enjoyed the warm sunshine and 50 degree weather, taking walks and spending as much time as we could outside. Redhead's mom called to say it had started to snow up here again and sent pictures to my phone as proof, and we were dreading returning to it. Especially due to "blizzard-like conditions" we were supposed to have the night we came back up.
That was complete with a three-hour drive from Kansas City back to Warrensburg. Almost three times as long as it takes to make the trip under good conditions. The entire drive I was whining about how I never should have gotten on the plane.
Alas, I did, and I'm back home now, enshrined in classes and daycare and homework and trying to find a job. Financial aid comes in next week and I'm going to buy a car from a dealership where Former Roommate got his little gas-saver for $1800, with only 90k miles on it. Very bare-bones model, but it's got working AC and heat and a CD player. Not gonna argue with a deal like that.
Now. If only the weather would warm up.
How about some pictures? Ya'll want pictures? Okay.
Also while in Texas, Daniel figured out that bath time is FUN. You can slap the stuff in the tub and this wet stuff SPLASHES YOU. It's AWESOME!
Daniel is just growing so damned much. When school let out for winter break, he wasn't crawling. Now that classes have started back up and he's back in daycare, not only is he crawling, but he's pulling himself into a standing position using furniture. Pretty soon he'll be furniture-surfing, then before you know it, walking.
They really do grow up fast.
And now a giggle-worthy video.
Whoooo. More later. I'm pooped from writing all this stuff. Maybe now I can get some sleep.
As I have mentioned in the past, I will be attending a blogmeet that has been dubbed "Blogorado" this weekend.
My flight leaves tomorrow at noon, so I have to leave Warrensburg around 8:30, of course. Don't you love restrictions in flying? Thank you, TSA! I feel *so* much safer!
(And if you couldn't tell that was sarcasm, get the fuck off my blog. Go! Now!)
With the lineup that is planning to attend, my head is going to explode as soon as I touch down just from the sheer fangirl-ness of being in their proximity.
A weekend full of good food, good drink, great company, and shooty goodness.
What more could a fledgling gunny-girl ask for?
Blogging over the weekend may be sporadic, but knowing me, it might not happen at all. Once I'm back on my own turf, I'll tell you all about it though. Promise.
I'll bring lots of pics, too!
((For those of you attending, if you don't want me to post your picture on my blog, just let me know. I would still appreciate having as many pics as I can, but if not, just say so.))
This is how I feel right now. Just... bleh. I'm so damned worn out, half the time I don't even have the energy to get out of bed, choosing instead to sleep for most of the day and through the night.
How sad is that? Ugh. I'll be glad when this kid comes out. So very glad. I miss moving around and being able to sit comfortably.
Sadly, that is not the only reason I have been absent this past week. I have started working again.
*Cue cries of outrage*
Not seriously working, though, so don't panic. But this is where I need my regular readers to pay attention. ESPECIALLY those of you with children in diapers. This may interest you.
The Redhead's older sister, who he has literally just called "Sister" all his life, is operating a business out of her home. She started it up several months ago, and actually got a website up online last fall, just before Thanksgiving, a month or two after I discovered I was pregnant. Sister has two daughters, one of which is still in diapers. And Sister is green-minded, always on the look out for an option that will be both more natural for her children, and earth-friendly overall.
DING DING! IDEA!
Sister has started her own business, making... diapers. Cloth diapers, washable and reusable for as long as your child is in diapers. You can look at her website, check out the prices, maybe set up a package that suits you, or get contact information and call her, talk to her to really get some insight. Her site is full of useful information, as well as breaking down the argument of Disposable vs. Cloth Diapers.
Diapers aren't the only thing she makes and sells, though. She also sells wraps, for wearing your baby against your torso (which has shown to help raise a much calmer baby. Her youngest is... frighteningly calm. Very laid back, never crying for attention, because she's always THERE!), nursing pads, waterproof diaper bags that won't get soggy from used diapers while you're away from home... The works. Everything you need, made by hand in her home, from 100% natural hemp materials, providing a diapering system that you can use for years to come without damaging the planet by throwing plastic disposable diapers into the trash, and into a landfill, where it will take decades to break down.
The reason I've started working for Sister is actually... really simple. It's something easy that I can do, without a lot of up-and-downing to wear me out and make me wish for death after just a couple of hours. It's close to home, and... instead of an actual paycheck, I'm getting a car out of it.
Oh yeah, I'm all over this. She just got a new one, and she knows that Redhead and I are really going to be needing a vehicle, so she's offering to sell us her minivan. Or, if I want to, I can work for her, help her with the making of diapers and everything else, and every week when I would usually get a paycheck, she'll deduct that amount from the price on the minivan (which is, in all honesty, ridiculously low, a real steal for us. We're so damned lucky). And it also means that we could apply the same process to paying for the order of diapers, bag, wipes, and sling that I've made.
Now, for those of you who are interested in the diapering system... Go to the website. Check out the information. She's got pictures, too. She can make the diapers in a wide variety of colors, something for everybody. So far, most of her business has been here locally, stretching no farther than the couple-hour drive up to Kansas City. But I know for a FACT that if somebody that she can't just pack up and drive to, or have drive to her, places an order... she would have no problem in shipping out to you guys. I'm trying to help her out by bringing new business in for her, since she's helping me out with the diapers themselves and the van. More business means she's definitely be able to expand. She's hoping to rent out a store and actually operate out of a more business-like atmosphere if business continues to go well like it has.
The title is "Music", for those of you who can't decipher intentional misspellings that litter the Intarwebz. LolCats started it all, and now I have friends who speak about 80% of the time in LolSpeak. It's crazy.
Anyway. Let's talk about music, shall we? Or one band in particular, which is on my agenda.
Iced Earth. Ever heard of them?
*cricket chirps*
Didn't think so. Not many have. They've been around since the 80s, and they released their 9th studio album last year, but they are very underground. They still have a heavy 80s metal sound, but you know what? I love it anyway.
Iced Earth is the love child of Jon Schaffer, who fell hard for heavy metal at the tender young age of 4 in the suburbs of Indiana. His sister nurtured this love, and his father sealed his fate at the age of 11, taking him to go see KISS live in concert. It was all downhill from there.
Schaffer's drive to make music was so strong, his desire to break free of authority so intense, that at the age of 16, with nothing but a clunker of a car and a few hundred dollars to his name, he ran away to Florida to live his dream. And on the streets of Tampa, he grew up fast, spending his days as a laborer in the hot sun and his nights building his vision of a band.
The band now known as Iced Earth started off as Purgatory, but was later changed for two reasons: One, because another band claimed they held the name first, and secondly, as a tribute to Schaffer's best friend who was killed in a motorcycle accident shortly before he left Indiana.
Iced Earth came to be in 1988 (the year I was born... coincidence? I THINK NOT!), and released their first album, their self-titled debut, in 1991.
As bold and colorful as their history is, I'm not going to quote it all in this post. Actually, I started this post intent on discussing the music itself, the albums, and the concepts of some of them.
Iced Earth's music can be classified as progressive metal, with a heavy 80s influence to their sound. Jon Schaffer writes all the music and lyrics, himself playing rhythm guitar and providing back up vocals, laying the ground work with their debut album for a unique sound. A force to be reckoned with.
"Night Of The Stormrider" hit shelves in 1992, a concept album that tells the story of a man betrayed by religion, turning his back on it in anger. The darker, sinister forces of nature reach out to him, using his rage to bring destruction upon the Earth. He feels no remorse for what he does, and upon his death, numbly accepts his fate in Hell.
After a break of a few years, "Burnt Offerings" released in '95, with their third drummer and third singer as well. Matthew Barlow took the band to new heights with his musical abilities, screaming, growling, singing, all the while infusing the music with deep amounts of emotion. It's a heavy, angry album, and you can tell from listening to it that the band had experienced some tough times.
.... You know what? I'm writing this up like it's a presentation for a public speaking class or something. Not gonna do that. Instead of taking you through each album on the timeline and discussing their history, I'm just going to go to town and explain certain points that I hit upon every time I discuss the band. And some of these points have turned professors into fans simply because of the topics covered and the creative skill used in making the albums. At the end of the post, I'll even throw in a few YouTube videos that you can check out, see if you like the sound.
Comic book fans. You like Spawn? Yeah? Iced Earth put out a concept album in 1996 titled "The Dark Saga", which tells the popular story of a man who sells his soul to return to his true love in the mortal world. Now, I never got into the story of Spawn, but I've had friends who have listen to the album, and they agree whole-heartedly: the deep, melodic sound of this album fits perfectly with the story. With tracks like "I Died For You", you really feel the pain that Spawn felt at losing all he cherished in life. Hell, there's a song for that little midget bastard Clown: "Violate". Very fitting. The album wraps up with "A Question of Heaven," almost 8 minutes of soul-wrenching musical beauty that sums up the story quite nicely. Truly one of the most, if not the most epic album they've put out.
The scary stories that we're told as children... The stories of the werewolf, Jack the Ripper, the mummy... The stories we grow up to absorb through the media... Frankenstein, the Phantom of the Opera, Dracula... For those with an interest in horror, I present to you: "Horror Show", released in 2001. Each song covers a different topic, and it becomes blatantly obvious that this band has a strong love for the horror genre. They even have a song for Damien, the wicked child from the Omen movies.
After September 11th happened, Matthew Barlow felt his existence was meaningless, living the rock star life when he could be putting his time to good use. So, after Horror Show released, he left the band to be replaced with Tim "the Ripper" Owens of Judas Priest. This also brought a lot of publicity to the band.
With Ripper Owens at the helm, the band released an album that raised a lot of eyebrows and caught a lot of interest.
A history-based album, "The Glorious Burden" covered a wide range of topics. A heavy instrumental rendition of "The Star-Spangled Banner" heads the album off, followed by songs covering America's fight for independence from England, and covering the time line of world history. From Attila the Hun's rampage across Europe to the attacks on the World Trade Center, with stops for the Napoleonic War and World War I, everything is covered. The masterpiece of the album, however, is what draws the most attention.
A three-piece, 32-minute epic about the three days of Gettysburg. Blue against grey. Brother against brother. A nation torn in two. I can't say anything else on the subject, really. It's one you have to hear for yourself.
The following year, the band also released a DVD centered around just those three songs. I'm still trying to get my hands on a copy of it. It's very moving music.
I think that's all I can really write about the band and the music. If I've caught your interest with my words, I've posted a couple of YouTube videos with some samples of their music for your listening enjoyment. And you can also check out the band's website for more information.
Also, on a side note: Welcome to my little corner of the Intarwebz, everybody that came over from Jay's place at MArooned. Hopefully this post will catch your interest more than the last did. Hell, Jay, this might catch YOUR interest!
Can ya tell I'm not doing a single productive thing today? Oh yeah. You can.
So, after stuffing myself full of a new blog, and noticing how most of the blogs I follow make NOTE when they add to their blogroll, I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon and point out who all is in my sidebar over there and why I lurves them. So, without further adieu, here we go!
Ambulance Driver - This guy is pretty much my blogfather. I read him first, got sucked in, and it was all downhill from there. I followed his blogroll to a handful of other people, and after so long, I started my own. Full of snark when writing about working the 'bolance and guns, his blog promises much fun for all.
LabRat and StingRay of Atomic Nerds - These two.. I don't even know where to begin. A frighteningly intelligent couple that blog about everything from science to guns to politics to general insanity, I was first linked to them through someone else to their post about things StingRay is not allowed to do. From that post alone, I was hooked.
Crystal at Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper - The title pretty much says it all right there. How can you argue with that? Wife, mother of three, and completely insane. I love this lady. I want to be like her when I grow up.
Cranky Epistles - An easily-agitated woman who teaches English at a Catholic university in PA. Okay, so not easily agitated. Just... she has certain triggers that set her off bigger than anything. Like stupid students. Which I can't really blame her for, to be honest.
Nurse K at Crass-Pollination - An urban ER nurse, battling it out day-to-day with stupid docs and even stupider patients. Lots of the latter, who think that their runny nose needs to be seen by a doctor RIGHT NOW or they just might die. Well worth the read.
Adventures of GuitarGirlRN - Another ER nurse, full of contempt for the more sheep-like members of humanity. Plus, she plays guitar and bass both. Can't argue with that!
LawDog - Ah, the much-worshipped godfather of the blogging community I have gotten sucked into. A policeman in North Texas with a colorful upbringing and plenty of snark to spare, this is the man that gets EVERYBODY into blogging, it seems like.
Jay G. of MArooned - A gun nut, a father, a husband, a biker, an all around good guy who seems like he might just have a short fuse... I agree with everything he says, ESPECIALLY considering idiots on the road. His Road Rage posts keep my sides splitting while simultaneously cursing stupid drivers. Also worth noting are his Friday Fun posts about cars and Friday Gun Pr0n. Can't go wrong.
MattG of Better and Better - Another officer from the great state of Texas, this is a family man who is more down to earth and full of good information about safety and firearms, and always willing to answer a question that a reader may pose to him. Very charming personality.
Skippy's List - The website containing the greatly appreciated "213 Things Skippy Is No Longer Allowed To Do In The U.S. Army". That in and of itself is good for endless amounts of laughs, no matter how many times you've heard it. I can't believe he got AWAY with some of the stuff he did. Plus, there's a blog on the site, and every Monday they post a new list of things people are not allowed to do in various different jobs. Gigglefest, all around.
The Breda Fallacy - The Most Dangerous Librarian in Ohio. Small of stature, big of snark, she concealed carries wherever she goes, and is full of advice to women just looking to protect themselves and their families. Plus food recipes! Yumz.
FarmGirl of Tractor Tracks - A home-grown farm girl, most at home in the saddle of her horses, FarmGirl is another female gun blogger, with an interesting novella-type project in the process that she posts chapters to from time to time. Very interesting read.
Sabra of Trailer Park Paradise - A single mother of three that has somehow captured my attention, and in all honesty, I can't really put words to why I'm so entranced with reading her blog. Just take my word for it, click the link, and go read!
Well, that's all of them. And from now on, whenever I add a new blogger to the roll, I shall update my handful of faithful readers so that you, too, can go read and be educated in whatever way that these folks offer.
Picked this one up from Breda, who I am currently digging through the archives to soak up as much as I can, in my usual "Zomg a new blog for me to read!" fashion. She is teh amazing, and I thoroughly enjoy reading her.
As we have come to realize, I hang out at Country Kitchen. A lot. There's nothing to do at home, there's no internet, I'm not a big fan of watching TV, and I've even gotten so bored that I've zipped through the collection of my room mate's cheesy romance novels. How sad is THAT? I know!. So every chance I get, I haul myself and my big ol' honkin-ass laptop to Country Kitchen to stuff myself full of soda (because coffee upsets my stomach when I drink too much of it on an empty stomach, and I'm actually affected by it now and it scares the Redhead to watch me tweak out on coffee, lolz), and surf the internet for hours on end. Which usually results in me finding at least ONE new blogger to read every few days, which tons and tons of archives to go through. Breda is the most recent, and I am diligently perusing her archives. Have faith!
I have had a very mild interest in guns and shooty goodness for a few months now. Nothing serious, of course, just... it had piqued my interest.
Then I stumbled upon Breda. Oh boy.
In the past 24 hours, my interest has seriously jacked up. And now, the Redhead fears for his life. I'm getting serious about that gun thing, and good unholy God, I may actually BUY one! O noez!! And a concealed carry permit? Oh good Jesus, you'd think I just sprouted a second head when I told him I was considering it.
The problem with the intense interest in shooty goodness in the handguns department is... I don't know anything about them! And yes, I am ashamed. But all was not lost!
I emailed Breda and explained my dilemma. I'm waiting to hear back from her, to see if she might be able to give me a few hints or point me in the right direction.
When my good friend Kerry showed up and sat with me for a while, we chatted about random bullshnit that went on around us, gossiped about people we secretly loathe, how boys are just about the craziest things in the world, and funny shit on the internet. And the gun topic came up, just as one of her best friend's ex-boyfriend showed up.
He got interested in the conversation. Apparently, there aren't many women-folk around here that are into guns. At all.
I told him I wanted to see if anybody in my circle of friends had any handguns that I could try out, just so I could find what would suit me. I'd like to have an idea before I spend a few hundred dollars on this particular piece of equipment, you know? It's just like before I buy a game system, computer, or car. I want to get a feel for what I'm spending loads of cash on. It's a reasonable request.
He had me hold my hand out, palm against his, and compared the sizes. My palm was about the same size as his, fingers just as long, but slightly narrower (is that even a word?). He nodded, released my hand, and commented that with my hands being their size, I might be able to work a .45. If I could deal with the recoil.
"My brother's got one. I could see if he'll let me borrow it, let you try it out. You'd have to buy some ammo, of course."
My eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning.
About an hour later, he gave me the name of a website that had specs on a small handful of pistols, sold in stores throughout the area. I read through it and compared prices, and now I'm even more excited.
