Wishes, dreams, and resolutions....

Hello again world. Forgive me my disappearance. It's that season when the planet turns upside down and everything is a little crazy. Anywho... I've got news!

I was just approved for my first ever credit card! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

In the past my credit has been less than stellar. This is not because of debt however. Instead, I have what TransUnion and Equifax call a Thin File. I've lived in the same place most my life, I didn't have a bank account for a long time, etc. Not much to go on for credit scoring. Well, for the past year and a half, I've been working on fixing that. I've got the best Punky in the world, and an awesome brat. Someday, I may want to buy them a house, or a car or something. I don't know... I've never really been one for the traditional american dream, but perspective changes when you're raising a kid.

So. I've got a bank account. I've been keeping it clean, no overdrafts or crazy fees, and it's been that way for coming on two years. I've been monitoring my credit report, making sure there's nothing wrong on there and that stuff is coming off when it's supposed to. Then last night I called Dell. The computer place. They have an awesome laptop I want. It costs just a little over two grand though, and I've only got about half that to my name. On the flip side, they have this awesome payment plan for people who have their Dell Preferred Account. My dream rig would only cost seventy dollars a month! That I could totally handle, and then some.

So, I called and asked what sort of credit score I would need in order to be approved for said card. After being told they would get me that info, they ran a credit check anyway. I even warned them about the thin file problem and told them I most likely wouldn't qualify. I didn't. Oh well. I then went back to the place where I monitor my report, and checked it out. Same stuff. Thin File. Etc.

However, they have recommendations for credit cards that are good for building credit, and how low of a score each one will take, etc. Lo and behold, I applied to one of them and was approved!

Sure, it's a secured line, but that's fine by me. All I care about is beefing up my file. I'm not about to go out on some massive spending spree, or begin living outside of my means. One of my resolutions for the next year is to continue improving my credit.

The other is of course, like half the nation, lose some weight. Also something I got an early start on and have been doing well with.

Beyond that, I resolve to blog more. To continue bettering my parenting. And to try and get a handle on my health situation.

That is all for now, and it's more than enough.

-Angelwick

Happy Winter Solstice, Happy monday, Happy four days until Christmas. And Happy Curry Night.

As the title impels, tonight or today actually is a very busy day. I didn't do much, or anything at all really, to celebrate Winter Solstice, Monday etc, but tonight, as in about twenty-thirty minutes.. It will be Curry Night! It's the first time Angel's ever made Curry, and I helped, and it smells so amazing. I can't wait to have some. Yum! I update how good it actually is in a little while.

There's a lunar eclipse tonight as well. That'll be awesome. I look forward to watching it tonight, at least some of it, though it's Angel and I, we might forget.

You know, I don't have much to say tonight, but I suppose that's okay.

Oh. Presents! Under the treeeeee for meeeee! Yay! I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

Bottleneck...

For a while I've been feeling like a bottle with too narrow a neck. I've been absent from the blog because I've simultaneously felt as if I had nothing to say, and too much to say. So.. here I am at a slightly better place now.


Christmas time is upon us. Hurray! Most of our shopping is done, thank god. Presents are wrapped and under the tree. After months and months and possibly even years of discussing Santa and whether or not children should believe in him or how old is too old, Punky finally turned her back on the fat man. It dawned on her that she had saved money, thought about presents, went out for said presents, wrapped them, and he got all the credit. F- That! She boldly proclaimed.

Dieting is going wonderfully well. Punky and I have each lost ten pounds so far. We hope to continue on this road well into the new year.

Speaking of new year... We're going to Dragon*Con! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.  My inner Trekkie rejoices. There shall even be cosplay.

Uhmm.... That's about it. Life has been quiet lately. It's  a good thing.

-Angelwick

Gah, it's been over a week.

Sorry guys! We didn't mean to leave you hanging, but Angel hasn't felt like there was anything to say that was worthy of posting, and I've been terribly ADD. It's sorta been slow here, so there isn't really much to say, but enough I think to make a decent post.

We got more shopping done Tuesday. Another present for the mama, and I found a niffy present for Angel last week, both are wrapped and under the tree. I still have to find him other things, but there'll be time, beside he and I have a agreement this year, that we don't care if presents are late for him and I. It only matters that the brat has everything, and he does. Boy does he. He's going to be trilled.

I've had to re-wrap to for his gifts, because our basement cat won't leave the tree alone. Just today be tore our tree skirt. It was nothing to fancy but it was something. Oh well, I covered it up with presents, and you can't tell. Hopefully though he'll leave it alone. He can't actually like the taste of tree skirt in the morning.

What else.. Oh, last night I killed myself on our desk chair, I went to get up to see who buzzed the door, and slipped. Landed hard on my left ribs. Luckily, they didn't seem broken, just sore and achy and I can't move certain ways, but no bruises yet. It was funny, Angel was asleep, the brat was asleep and I was whimpering and trying not to cry, and only making it worse. Okay, so it wasn't funny in the moment, but now it is.

Annnnd, I think I ran out of topics. So good night for now, and I promise we won't take so long next time.

- Punky.

Faeries and Gods and Logs. Oh my!

Just been wandering about the various blogs I follow. It seems like a good time of year for it too, since most are chock full of interesting posts about the season, the weather,  and the many holidays that so many faiths and cultures seem to celebrate in the coming month.

Yule logs. What is the word on those? The Deepest Well just posted a plethora of information that was a delight to read. It tempted me ever so horribly to march out and bring one home. Of course, this would be tricky as my Punky is a bit of a tree hugger in the strangest way.

Last night we all sat around the television in the kitchen to watch NBC's Christmas Tree Lighting in Rockefeller Center. No particular artists I liked on the roster, but the music was nice just the same, and I was introduced to a singer I hadn't previously heard of. Charice. Anywho.. throughout the show they're doing little flashbacks, talking about how many years this event has been going on for when it suddenly occurred to Punky that this was a real live tree that they were talking about.

Now personally, I remember being in the city with her either last year or the year before when the tree was up. Not for the actual lighting of course, I don't think many real New Yorkers go to that because of the crowding. But we were there. I know, because she was fascinated by the ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Sadly, she doesn't remember that. She seemed genuinely hurt that a tree had been cut down just for display. At first I thought she was just being funny and a little sarcastic. She loves Christmas Trees! She's had real ones before!  I was wrong.

From what I can gather, she's upset because it's such a large tree. A tree that took many years to get so tall. I can't pretend that I see it her way, or even really understand where she's coming from, but I can definitely feel sympathy all the same. I don't have to be standing where she's standing to support her. The show introduced everyone to the family that was sort of donating the tree. The husband/dad was a firefighter from a station in The Bronx who responded to 9/11. He and his family lived in a small but very nice house with some land around it and on it had been this magnificent spruce. The show also went on to mention that when the tree had finished its role as Christmas Tree to NYC that it would be given to Habitat for Humanity to help build homes.

This too I thought was something that would make Punky feel better, but no such luck. She says I just don't understand, and I've already admitted that that is true. So I have no idea how she would feel if I just uprooted a tree in our local park and brought it home to declare it Yule Log time. xP

First things first, I'm going to do more research on Yule in general and on Yule Logs too, to supplement what The Deepest Well posted. Then I'll see how she feels about it all.

Secondly, if we get the fun and privilege of declaring it Yule Log time ... we have no fire place. My initial thinking had been along the lines of doing it symbolically. Maybe a small twig that we would honor and then burn safely in the kitchen. Some of the information in that post though made me think that might be a bad idea. So... what to do? There must be some creative solution, I just haven't thought of it yet.

In other news... Are there faeries in New York? Stay tuned right here at The Fire Escape and find out tomorrow when Miss Candy Corn Ma'am is sure to stop by and drop some knowledge on our blog as she most graciously does whenever we update.

Furthermore. In order to even the playing field of the gods and goddesses I have decided that there should be a Triple Face God. Like the Triple Moon Goddess, he would represent the three stages of a man's life. So far, I have affectionately come up with them as so :

The Dude.  The Dad . And The Crotchety Dude.  In his first two stages of life, he is much like Crush from Finding Nemo. Awesome and Dude-like. Also... dad-like. The Third stage is more like, Mr. Turtle. Crush's less stellar dad.

That is all for tonight.

-Angelwick

Trrreeee

 

This is our pretty pretty tree. I heart it like nobody's business. See how it reflects off the window? Isn't it lovely. Annnnd... That's all I have to say. I was going to post more..but my head broke and this is all I can come up with. Later I'll blog about the diet Angel and I will be trying to start soon, and how we need to start drinking more water. 

- Punky

Ps. New background! 

PPS. New follower! Yay! And it's even someone Angel didn't stalk first. Woo!

Maiden, mother and Crone.

Oh good gods. I don't know why they let Angel onto pagan blogs. They should see him coming and close up shop. I for one think either he's been reading some pretty strange things, or he's just not paying attention. How did "mother" turn into hag. And when did the pagan belief go from believing in both male and female to being a man hating bitch?

Another thing that makes me go "...wha?" is that now The triple goddess is not "a" goddess but the one, the matrix. That's news to me. I swear, the wicca/witta/pagan-y craft I learned didn't ever mention this. So what happened?

And while we're on the topic.. And I'm ranting. I don't know whether I should get back into the swing of things, or leave it alone. It's been a few years since I left the life, but my beliefs still hold to what I learned back then, as well as what I learned growing up. More about all that later.

By the way, I do indeed love Christmas, but it's not the soul of a child living within me, but that of an elf. Get it right Angel. ^______________^ As he just put it.. "...it's why you have a jingle bell on your head right now." Why, yes, yes it is. I even have pointy, green booties with bells on the toes, in the closet.

Ramblings of The Goddess

On the cab ride home today, Alex said something about Trick or Treat. That's The Brat for you, you put something in his head and try to drill it in there and it never seems to stick. When months have passed, there it comes tumbling right out of his mouth.

So Punky told him it was no longer Trick or Treat season. That's what Punky and I do. She oversimplifies when I think she needs to explain more, and explains too much when I think she shouldn't. I do the same. Alex doesn't  like short sentences that just cut him off. So, duh, he didn't like being told Halloween was over. He took it better when I mentioned that it wasn't Halloween season because it was Christmas season. I said something to the effect of " Because it's Christmas. ... Or Yule. Or the Solstice, depending on what Pagan-y thing you're doing. " Something like that. This was brought on because I had been looking at Miss Candy Corn Blog lady's blog today, and saw her request for a book about Yule for children.

It was actually something really interesting to me, and something I mentioned to Punky. Punky said something like that would be hard to find, but when we checked the comments we saw that there were recommendations and they were awesome. This lead to me asking my dear Punky if she was more of a Yule person or a solstice person, which are the only two winter holidays I know of for pagans. Make a note, I don't actually know anything about pagans except what I read on the internet, much to Punky's chagrin.

She said neither. She was a Christmas person. This is very very true. My Punky has the soul of a child. She loves her some Santa Claus. She can belt out Jingle Bells quite happily mid-summer. So obviously, this lead to me teasing her, because that's what I do. I'm a big old sarcastic bull-frog. You see, Punky never knows anything I want her to know. She'll recommend a show for us to watch, and when mid-episode I ask what's going to happen she suddenly has Alzheimers. She doesn't remember the episode, or the particular details of the situation. She'll tell me about books with awesome plots, that she also doesn't remember except for bits and pieces. Her mind is like a sieve. A sieve that's been chewed on by our former pitbull Moonpie.

Back to the cab story....

The Brat has shut up about Halloween and Christmas and is quietly staring out the window at the highway. I grin, look at Punky, and pretend to be talking to The Brat. I mutter something to the effect of The Goddess would not pleased because he had boy bits and she was all about woman-power.

To which Punky promptly rolled her eyes and said " Oh god... what blog did you read that from? "

See? The internet. It is my friend.

I 'fessed up that no one such person had made such a claim. It's just the impression I've come away with after years of surfing the web and atleast tentatively poking other pagans and their beliefs. Almost all the pagans and wiccans I've come across are militant feminists who claim the Goddess because of their shared womanly-ness. There never seems to be room for men, or the male persona. Men always seem to be the big bad evil.

So Punky wants to know which Goddess I am talking about.

O.o


That would be my face. I said : You know. THE Goddess. THE GODDESS. The big bad triple moon wiccan pagan three face goddess.

Punky : She doesn't hate men.

Me: Yuh-huh. Do you know what her three faces are? The Maiden... hates men cause she's young. The Hag... hateful personality right there. The Crone. Come on... That's what Rich calls his grandmother.

Punky : Yeah, but Lizzy loves men!

Me: Yeah.. loves 'em and leaves 'em. 

Punky : But she still loves them.

Then we sort of got home and the conversation went away. I had to call my mom and let her know we were home, then Punky and I had to figure out dinner.

Theeeeeeennnnnnnnnn.... I decided to blog about it. Because I've been telling my self I'm going to be more spontaneous and just blog about whatever happens. That way I don't over-think it. This of course was tons of fun with Punky sitting three feet from the monitor. I barely got the title down before she was all eyeroll-y and snarky.

" You're going to blog about the goddess?...Why?"

'Because... I can... " And other random shit I don't remember. This took us back to her not knowing what goddess I was talking about. Which lead to me waving my arms around and proclaiming that the goddess had no set name. I said she was an idea, not a set person.

>.>  Then I proceeded to chant that wiccan people write up spells and chants that refer to her as The Goddess. Diane, Artemis, Astarte. That the whole point wasn't that she was just one person. This caused a mini-spat cause I guess that was all the mockery Punky could take about it.

What can I say? Most days I'm a twelve year old boy with a dillweed sense of humour. I snicker when she says Hard, and crack up when I think about the time she called out to The Brat that he'd left his balls in the sink.

-Angelwick

My hair is in pigtails again, and if I had the time to curl them I would. I'll probably even wear another bow, but for now I don't know what I'll be doing. And I only mention this because everyone loved the big head eater the call bows in the loli world. I'll try and post pictures. I'm not sure what to do about wardrobe but I have cute things for my hair. The loli world is a scary, money hungry place, and I'm thinking about quitting it. It doesn't help that Angel and I sometimes fight about it, and on Black Friday, in the middle of a store, we got into a fight. Fights happen, but I think them. Anyhow. We'll see how it goes. For now I'll blog about everything else that' been going on.

Thanksgiving was good. The food was awesome, and I didn't get enough of the turkey, but that's alright as it's been bought to my attention I eat too much.Oh, the turkey, I wish you all could have tasted it, it was the single best turkey ever. So so so good. Way better then last years, and I dare Angel to make such a claim again.

Black Friday was...crazy. The stores weren't so bad, but the many bags we had to take from store to store wasn't fun. Plus some stuff happened that I won't be talking about happened, and it still makes me all upset. The fight with Angel didn't last so long, and was sorta over quick. All in all the day wasn't horrible, but it wasn't one of the best. I guess that's just how it works. Christmas is going to be okay I think. As long as nothing really bad happens before the actual day of, we'll be okay. We even have presents already under the tree. The brat's going to be happy.

Hopefully everything goes well tonight at the weekly family dinner, and if something does crop up, I'll blog about it all later.


~ Punky

Brrrraaaiiiiinnnssss...

My brain mostly works too fast for me to keep up with. I think it's always been this way. I don't ever recall many times when I've just been blank-headed and taking things as they come.

I would assume that's based on two things. I grew up ( as in born and raised, not transplanted at 13 ) in New York City. Hello... we are the city that never sleeps. Okay... we were, until Mayor Bloomberg cleaned the place up and let Disney into Times Square. Also, my mama is ridiculously OCD. Between the two, there wasn't much room for just daydreaming the days away.Unless you count the endless hours I spent with my nose in books and my brain in other worlds. Personally, I don't count those because my brain was working then.


I have stuff to blog about. I've even had the time to blog about it. It's just that I never know what to start with, and how to segue from one topic to the next. It's one of my biggest failures as a writer. At least in fiction I can close the chapter and pick-up anew in another. Oh well.. here we go.

Thanksgiving was awesome. I liked last year's Turkey better. Punky liked this one better. My mom and her boss were too busy eating to debate Turkeys. All in all I think everyone was pleased. We got to share some of my overly huge manly pride turkey with neighbors even, because my mom is nice like that and had apparently gone on recon missions to find out who wasn't having family over for the holidays and who wasn't having the privilege of turkey, and bringing them some of our own.

That's my mom in a nutshell. She's a nurturer. If she can bend over backwards to help others, she will. Happily no less. It made me feel good to watch her and Punky deliver these covered dishes of food. Even her boss was surprised by her act.

He said : " Doesn't it make you feel good, Mama, to do nice things for others. "

Can  you guess what my mom said? I'm gonna bet that the average person can't.

She shook her head no, hands busy serving up more dishes. It took her a moment to respond, since she's the kind of person who isn't grand at multi-tasking if it involves talking. Eventually, she said..

" No, it doesn't. Why, should it? "

Please notice the comma placement. She wasn't asking why it should feel good, she was asking if it should.

Most people don't understand my mother. It takes too long to get to know her. The people that do take the time, are the same people who stop me in the street wherever I am and gush to me about how great she is. I am always happy to gush back. My mother has flaws by the bucket-load. She's nowhere near to perfect, and I wouldn't try to paint her that way, but she is special.

Most of us, myself included, do things that are good and kind and come away with at least a warm feeling in our chest. It's a feeling that acts as a motivator so that we can repeat the kindness as often as possible, it's also a reward. Like my mother's boss said, it feels good.

The world is already lacking greatly in acts of kindness and generosity, where would we be without the little voice, the gentle nudge, the whisper that tells us to give our change to the homeless, to put a dollar in to the Salvation Army bucket, to help our neighbor, our family, our friend?  I don't know where we'd be, and honestly, it's a little scary to think about.

My mother doesn't get a warm feeling. She doesn't come back smiling and beaming because she just did something good, she comes back smiling and beaming because Punky is wearing a Loli bow and it tickles my mother pink. When she acts, she acts on her own principles of good and bad, right and wrong. She requires no incentive, or reward, to do what's right. She just does it. She does it because it's right. And I could write paragraphs and paragraphs about it, trying to explain it even just to myself, but it wouldn't matter and it wouldn't make anything clearer or grander, because my mother is a simple person and acts in simple ways.

I am very proud to be her child.

In other news... Our Christmas tree is up. That's our tradition. Thanksgiving night it goes up, and it did. The Brat loved that, though he did feel very put out that we didn't have a star topper. Unfortunately, last year's topper didn't survive till this year. He was also very excited about his own blue tinsel tree, and had a ball decking it out in his room.

We still have much ornament shopping to do, but that will have to come slowly, because Friday was Punky and I's first time venturing out into the madness that is Black Friday. Annnd... I've gotta say... not so bad. It wasn't as hectic and crazy as the news makes it sound every year. Here I had been ready to throw some elbows, and mow people over,  but it wasn't necessary. However, our tiny Christmas fund flew out the window faster than fast. This is okay though, because that's what a Christmas fund is for, and it means that The Brat will be having his best Christmas yet.

I will try and put up some pictures of the tree up later. I'll most likely just poke Punky into doing it for me. Today we're off for our weekly family dinner at my mom's. Tomorrow I will try and blog some more, and keep my resolution to myself of keeping this place alive.

-Angelwick.

P.S. Yaaaaaaaay! Our second follower ever! Hello and welcome to the fire escape!

Turkey brining...

It's that time of the year again. Sooo.. last night after we picked up my brand new shiny roaster from Mattress, Toilet and Outer Space it was time to brine Maks.

Boy was that fun with three hungry cats in the kitchen. One must be a cat-fu expert to get anything done in there. Actually, one must be part Jedi. Porthos is after all leader of the darkside, what with being Basement Cat and all. But we managed to whip up the salt solution and set Maks in for his bird bath. Today we'll give him a poke in the fridge and see how he's doing.

Somewhere between tonight and tomorrow morning I'll get him out of there and properly season him up. Today however I'll have to drop by Frontier with Punky for onions, celery, herbs... other nummies as I think of them. Oh, garlic! Our spread is small and humble this year, but I've been chanting to myself that it's enough. There are only four adults and one Brat. I tell myself that some people out there wish they could get away with such little work for Thanksgiving.There's no need to put more on my plate, so to speak.

I blame the Food Network. Not that I actually have it anymore. Still.. I used to.. My mom and I were like that episode of South Park, Creme Fraiche. That was a good one. So true too! These smiling chefs like Paula Deen and Bobby Flay come on your television and whip up yummy sounding and looking things, and they  say you can do it too! So off you go to the supermarket to drop a hundred dollars on a bunch of ingredients, and suddenly you're in your kitchen talking to the pots and pans and hosting your own pretend episode of 130 Minute Meals.

Anywhooo... While we were at the Fenceway Center yesterday, we swung by Bullseye. Goodbye money. It was nice having you for a bit. That place always manages to separate us from our cash. Punky says she wants it to be banned and illegal, but I told she'd miss it too much if it was gone. Picked up Host and Hostess gifts for my mama and her boss since Thanksgiving is going to be at her place.

Also, since tradition dictates that the Christmas tree goes up tomorrow, we picked up a tiny little eight inch pre-lit tree for the brat. It's just one of those plug-in tinsel ones, but it's all his own and he can be OCD with it to his heart's content without getting in trouble for messing with the big tree. He's not the only OCD one around here after all, and Punky is very particular about her tree.

Now it's time to poke the Punky and rearrange some stuff in the living room.

-Angelwick.

A day in the life of a Punky

Today was a good day. A slightly busy day.

I did a small load of clothes, and I came home to a sleepy, growly monster I had to wake up. That was funny, normally I'm the one who's grumpy when I'm woken up, but today it was Angel's turn. He almost bit my head off, but I still love him.

We also went to his mom's boss's house, and had an okay time. They live in Riverdale, and the bus ride took forever, but on Broadway they've put on shiny Christmas light, and it just serves to remind me it's that time of the year. I still find it hard to believe that this week is Thanksgiving. I'm trying not to freak out.

Hopefully everything will go okay. Hopefully Christmas is going to go okay. I'm worried about the whole thing. From presents, to food, to the tree. But on the other hand.. wait for it.... The tree goes up on Thursday! Wooooohooooo! I can't wait.


And now I'm crawling into bed so as not to freeze to death.

PS. Funny bones, are not, and I repeat, not funny.

A Lolita Entry

I am reserving this post as my own. Recently it came to my attention that I haven't been as active as Angelwich, and sadly that was not my intention when I agreed to co-running this blog with him. Now that I know, I will be all over it, like white on rice.

I thought my biggest worry is I'm not as funny as Angel, and I feel I don't have much to share. It's not entirely true, but it is how I feel. I will do my best to over come those feeling, and plow a head.

The last couple of weeks I've been getting more involved with a fashion, life style called Gothic Lolita. I'm sure a few of you might know what that means, but for those that don't, or think it might have a little something to do with a certain book, I will try my best to enlighten you. It's a sub-culture in Japanese, that is slowly, much quicker now then five years ago, coming to the states.It's all about looking doll-like, and heavily influenced by the Gothic period. I will link to more info at the bottom of the post. It's lots of lace, ruffles, and pretty things. All of which I've always been into. Well, more into my teenage/adult life, I was too much of a tomboy to love them when I was younger, and besides I was being forced into them by my mom, so for a few years I hated puffy dresses.

Many people have differing thoughts about what lolita is and what it means, I think something completely different I'm sure, but that's alright. I've only just gotten into meeting other lolis, so I'm still a little new, but so far.. I have mixed feelings about it all. It's half way plus size friendly, but it also doesn't seem friendly to off-brand, or people who might be a little laid back.That's not the right word.. Maybe it's more.. That they don't seem too friendly to people who have, and love, other interests. But I'm working on not caring what others think, and just caring that so far, I haven't met many bad girls.

I don't have any proper dresses, but I do have a few things around the house that I was able to throw together to make a nice cord. and it was very well received. I'm crafty, and I think with a little more time, and some extra money it's going to be just fine. I'm still standing on shaky legs though, so wish me luck. I'm sure in the future I'll be ranting on and on about loli, so I'm sorry in advance, but I'll try and make it quick and painless. 

________________________________

And that is the end of the Lolita intro. 

In a few minutes I ill be updating today's events

Here are the links! 

Lolita Wiki

This one has all the info on it you'll need, it's actually the best I've found in explaining what it is and everything else you might need as an outsider looking in. I doubt it has all the logo that lolis use. I'm still not sure I know all of it. I'm still an outsider myself. Actually now that I think about it.. I might blog later in the week about all the loli logo, and put it up, as well as links for clothes, and shoes, and things like that. Maybe I'll help a fellow Loli out.

The People I love and live with Pt 3

Meet Owly and NoName. They were the Brat and Punky's most recent crafts project. Owly lives on top of my computer monitor, and I haven't seen NoName  since he was colored and put together. The Brat probably ate him. Poor thing.

The People I love and live with... Pt 2

Behold.. The Domesticated Getofficus Mylapicus. Code name : Aramis.

This two pound furball likes to inhabit the cushy thighs of its masters. It's war cry of  Meeeeeewww.. translated into Federation Standard as " Pet me now ..  or the kid gets it. "

He's our little bundle of joy. When he isn't clawing into us hard enough to draw blood just because he doesn't  want to be displaced. Once he's found a comfortable position that's it. You're stuck for the night. Any attempt to get up and wash dishes, use the bathroom, run for your life from a fire will earn you a sleepy stare and vicious pointy little claws.

He's sort of a runt-y cat, who thinks he may or may not be part tiger. His favorite sport is pouncing Porthos, our older much larger cat, and attacking him like a cheeseburger. He gets away with these grand delusions of tiger-dom because Porthos will just lay there,barely crack an eye open, and ignore the ambush much like a seven foot tall, three hundred and fifty pound bouncer would ignore the swinging fists of a two foot drunk midget.

Aramis is also ninety percent tummy. In addition to being part tiger, we think some snake DNA may have made it into his blood. You see, should you ever encounter Aramis in a position other than Sphinx, you will see that he appears to have swallowed a tennis ball whole. He's like a snowman cat, in which first there's his big tummy, a tiny head attached, and finally limbs but mostly just for show.

So there he is... another cast member of this movie I call life. Aramis. I love him to pieces, unless he's being a brat and then I just want to cut him up and eat him.


-Angelwick

P.S. OMG we got our first follower ever!!eleventy-one!!111!!!   Hiiiii Miss CandyCorn Blog! Thank you for stopping by and commenting. 

Ahahaha

I am innocently sitting here, looking through kmart for the cutest gloves and hat I saw there the other day, when I hear "Here, read a book, do you like reading?" and now I have sat through two of my cats being forced models.

Ah, there is never a dull moment in my house. Angel is a little crazy, but I love him. Even when he's forcing our cats into 'playful, cute poses' that they want no part of. I could rant and rave about my love for him... But he's getting into trouble over on my bed and I have to go see what the problem is.

The People I love and live with... Pt 1

My Punky is a coffee snob.

Just a couple of nights ago we were in the local Supermarket picking out odds and ends needed around the house, and I mentioned more coffee. We were running low. And even though we don't drink it daily or by the gallon the way that some people might, we'll also suddenly develop an urge for it in the middle of the night on a broke Sunday. Cause that's how we roll in this shire. We wait until we can't get our hands on something to suddenly desperately need it.

Better safe than sorry, we tend to keep things stocked up in the pantry for such cases. Now, earlier she had mentioned coffee being on sale, but we couldn't remember where. There are five supermarkets in our neighborhood, and two Rite Aids. We get enough flyers once a week to paper mache a whole rain forest out of. Sooo.. Sometimes Supermarket A will put something on sale for a better price than Supermarket B, and we'll wind up shopping in Supermarket C wondering where the heck the sale went.

Deciding we weren't about to either hunt up more flyers or visit four other supermarkets, Punky said she'd just look and see if Frontier had anything cheap. They did. She brought back a non-name brand little glass jar of coffee. Good by me, I put it in the basket, and off we went to hunt up further dinner supplies.

A few minutes later while Punky deliberated over something else, I picked up the coffee jar and looked it over. It said, Instant. Now, I grew up on Sanka. This was fine with me, but I remembered the last couple of times I'd looked at instant coffee Punky had conveniently found some in the coffee pot kind she would rather. That too was fine by me, who doesn't like good coffee?

So I mention it to her.

" You know this is Instant, right. "

" It is? Oh... Should I put it back? "

" Nah, you don't have to. "

"Are you sure, I can..."

" I'm fine with it. "

She looks worried and confused. Already I feel a little tickled.

" You know what Instant means, don't  you? "

" ........ No.."

" It just means you don't have to use the coffee pot. "

Blank stare.

" You just boil water and mix this in directly. "

"And it'll work?! "

And that is why I love my Punky. Because she's never had instant coffee before. I want to dance around and call it Commoner's Coffee, since she was the one who turned me on to Ouran Koko Host Bu.

It the coffee of us poor people who work so much that we don't have the time in our day to grind our own beans.

 Also, I love her, because eventually she'll be done studying, and she'll read this over my shoulder before I'm done writing it. Or she'll read it when it's posted. Or she'll read it next week.... But ... Eventually she'll read it. And she'll pout, then blush, then glare. All in that order. Cause she'll think I'm making fun of her, in public no less. She'll get angry and say it's not her fault she's never had instant coffee and I am such a bull-frog.

And it's the cutest thing ever when she's angry. Most days I can't take her seriously when she's offended at me, because I'm too busy cracking up and pointing. Horribly elementary school boy of me, I know, but it's not something I can help. I love Punky cause she's cute when she's angry and if she's not too angry, then she usually knows it.

For example... I recently came to the conclusion that she would make the worst zombie ever. You see, Punky has a tiny mouth. It's the bane of her existence, even though it's such a pretty little mouth. Like all tiny mouthed ladies of the universe, she wants Angelina Jolie lips. But they just wouldn't go with the rest of her. Her tiny mouth matches her squinty little eyes just perfectly.


Thus.... She would be a horrible zombie. The undead need to be able to open wide in order to feed on our brains, and Punky can barely bite into a healthy sized burger. She's just too dainty for it, the poor loli. So I've taken to doing impersonations of her as a zombie, in which I clench my teeth, pucker my lips and cry Brraaaiinnss..

This proceeds to make her pout, blush, glare... whack me around ... and then go " Do it again... I hate you. "

What she really means is " Do it again... I love you "

She's my Punky and I love her.

Blog envy...

Don't you just hate it?

There you are, wading through the interwebs trying to find something you haven't already read, and bam. You find it. An awesome blog, by an awesome person, who has awesome stories, experiences, pictures, or crafts, and then your eyes go green like the hulk.

It's that feeling, the one that swells in your chest and whispers in your head.

I can do that.


And you know... I can. I've got awesome stories to tell. Drunk stories that make people laugh till they pee a little. But.. I'm never inspired to write those down somewhere. Then I stupidly get jealous of people who do take the time to put their lives down on paper. Or internet paper as it were. It sucks.

It's also not the greatest time of year. We're living on tight cash at the moment. Sure, all the essentials are taken care of, it's burn money that we're lacking. The extra fifty to go get into the city with. That sort of thing. I can't come home and post pictures of awesome finds at local stores, or newly crafted crafts without a little money to spend on those things.

It's Christmas that's killing me. This year there are eleven people on the list. The brat is top priority of course. But with great Brat's come great responsibility.

In the great tradition of our family, the Brat is going to private school. That means this is the season to grease some wheels and earn him some special treatment. Tuition covers his education, not teacher favoritism. That's what Christmas is for.

Then there are the Georgians. Punky's dad and step-mom, even though we pretty much have them figured out.

Then the two neighbor boys we're trying to bribe into being friends with The Brat.

My mama.

Her boss.

Not to mention, decorating. These are thrifty times. Pennies must be pinched.

On the other hand, The Mama is totally springing for a new roaster pan with rack for this year's Thanksgiving festivities. Woo hoo! Bed Bath and Beyond here I come. They totally have one on sale that looks nifty. This means I get a trip to the local mall, which I've been missing hardcore.

Goodbye whatever pennies we had. Target always sticks it to me. It should be illegal how violently that store separates me from money. It's a mugging I tell you. Let us not speak of how many Halloween clearance things we brought home. They do not joke about putting things up for 90% off. They are the evil temptors from The Lord's Prayer.

Anywho.. Maks has been chilling in the freezer, or freezing in the chiller as it were, as Punky and I debate when to pop him downstairs into the fridge for some defrosting. We're thinking Saturday. Too soon? Not soon enough for a twenty one pound bird? We've got our fingers crossed. We do want him to be done with enough time for some brining and seasoning.

Other things going on at the Hacienda...

Tonight was Parent-Teacher conference. The Brat got excellent grades.

Punky got a hundred on her Literature exam.

And I was the only one in the house not getting grades of some sort.

All in a days work I suppose,
-Angelwick

Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Maks!

Meet our very own Maksim Chmerkovsky! Checking in at a whopping twenty one pounds, Maksim is my pride and manly joy. He gives me that feeling that most guys get when standing at the grill, banning the womenfolk to the kitchen to take care of drinks. He brings out my testosterone and makes me want to do the Vince McMahon pimp walk around the kitchen. Only, not really cause my hip hurts, but the want is still there.

Ahh Thanksgiving, when I get to play Gordon Ramsey and wave spatulas around. Is there a particular reason they don't make bigger turkeys? I mean, sure, twenty one pounds is nice, but I'd gladly pay for a thirty-pounder.

What's that you say? I was just blogging about coming from a tiny family and not having enough people to cook for? Pshaw... Remember I'm Hispanic. I lie. And Frankly. it's getting a little hard to feed four and a half people on a scrawny twenty pounds. Thank God that I picked up ten pounds of Yukon gold potatoes for mash, or we'd all be starving like one of those Christmas Carol movies with the poor people in them.

I mean, sure, the stuffing and the cranberry jelly will help take up some of the room in my family's stomach's, but should I really have to resort to that? Bigger turkeys people. We need 'em.


-Angelwick.

Falling off the wagon..

Would an excuse make much of a difference? I tend not to like making those if I can help it at all. Okay, so I slacked off, but I'm here now.

Today was a good day. Nothing horribly exciting, just average. I like average. It means nothing exploded. The Brat has been on good behaviour. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that he's obsessed with Christmas. Can't blame him really, we've been talking about it a lot lately.

Just in time for the holidays, Punky and I have secured a secure credit line with no interest and a five hundred dollar limit. Huzzah. This, managed right of course, is awesome. We've allowed ourselves a two hundred and fifty dollar spending limit for Christmas. Not counting things we pick up as sort of stuffing stuffers with our own spendable cash.

Sure, Thanksgiving is still lurking around the corner, but we've got that more or less figured out. The menu is ready, nothing fancy or complicated, and the time is set. All we need to do now is figure out if our Driver will be available or if he will be with family.

In other news, I've been making facial masks for Punky and I. This in preparation for our grand upcoming photo-shoot. [ Read : Family pictures at K-Mart. ] My face hates me, is oily, pimple-y, and most days I hate it back, however I would like to look nice for these as they are my first family piccies ever!

I got a very nice dress from Macy's. Black and soft and pretty. Punky has a very nice top. Annnd... for once it's The Brat who has nothing to wear. And by nothing, I mean, nothing new and sparkly and strictly for the occasion. His wardrobe otherwise is comparable to Madonna's.

Off I go to wash my mask off. More posting later.

-Angelwick

Woe is me.

Punky here.

It's only two days into the week, and already I feel like it's rushing by. Nov. and Dec. are really short months to me. So much stuff is going on, that you never have a moment to yourself, let along to sit around and stress and be emo. But I have alot on my plate. I need to tidy up the house, but I don't feel like it, I have to take down Halloween things, and put them up. I have to make a to-do list for the holidays, and then I have to search the interwebs for a job. Like that's going to happen though.

Last night wasn't a good night. I found out my mother, the root of all evil, did more bad things with my ID. And right after I left to visit NY for the first time. I mean.. A few days after I left. I can't believe her. But I don't know what to do.. I should throw her butt into jail.. I can't bring myself to do that yet though. And I'm still scared to talk to the cops because of her. It's a hard position to be put into. Le sigh.

Well, I have to go now, I shall post again later.

Thanksgiving Dreaming

Soo.. after a nice hot shower, here I sit thinking about Thanksgiving. It's going to be this way until the day actually comes and goes. I feel excited and inadequate all at the same time. Since I usually am torn between feelings though, it's nothing new.

I feel like my menu is too simple. I grew up poor. I grew up wanting to be like the white blue eyed families on television, with their long table for twenty and enough food to feed Iraq. I thought that was what Thanksgiving should look like, should feel like, rather than a day at church and dinner with church friends.

The thing is, there's no point in cooking for twenty when you have a family of two. My dad died early on, and it was me and my mom pretty much 'til high school. Like me, she was an only child. I don't have a plethora of aunts, uncles, and cousins to whip out of the woodwork when the holiday season rolls around. This always made the end of the year holidays feel rather empty to me. Thanksgiving and Christmas were no different than the rest of the year, when it was just mom and I and a cat or two.

It definitely doesn't help that I'm a first generation American, and mom is... not. At times, she and I could not be more different if I were a fish and she were a flower. Holidays, traditions, American commercialization of those things, they don't mean much to her. At best she shared a passing fascination with the same t.v. spots that intrigued and teased me.

I think the general feeling was that, Yes, Other People did those things, and Other People had those things, and that was normal for them, but we were not them. They weren't us.

Then there was always the fact that we are Hispanic. Not the good kind either. Okay, well half the good kind. Dad was born and raised in Puerto Rico. I blame this on my paternal grandmother, whom I have never met, but assume is insane. She was French.

Why anyone would leave France for Puerto Rico is beyond me.

Mom is Peruvian. I love this about her. I always have. She raised me with a deep and unending love for her culture. I was raised on Peruvian myths and fairy tales, and every once in a while, a good plate of Peruvian food. It's why I am so excited to take The Brat and The Punky to Hicksville tomorrow, even though I loathe Long Island. Tomorrow we'll get to sit down, eat Peruvian food, listen to Peruvian music, and watch a Peruvian show.

Sure, this is something we could recreate at home, I do know my way around a handful of our dishes, and music is not hard to come by, but there we will be surrounded by other Peruvians, folded into the community and ... well.. that will be nice.

Anywaaay... back to the point. Thanksgiving is not something celebrated in Peru. My mother got into the habit here, just because it's something everyone else did. I was off from school, church people did it, it was more a matter of circumstance than anything else. This was not exactly a great foundation for holiday love.

Miraculously, as the years went by and I got older and wiser right along with my mom, we learned our own sort of love for it. It coincided with the delusions of normalcy that we had at some point begun to cling to. Mother's plan was for me to go to some fancy university that she'd never be able to afford, remain a chaste and pure virgin until graduation, and then, without ever having dated anyone, marry a nice white boy with blonde hair, blue eyes, preferably German, who was in the military. This way, I would have a military wedding such as my mother had seen on television somewhere.

Finally.. with this bit of whiteness in our life, we would be worthy of and responsible for, the long dinner table filled surrounded by guests and filled with food.

[ I recently quipped to my mother, that Punky, my son's co-mother, was tall, white, blonde AND blue eyed. She was amused. ]

Obviously, none of that came to pass. But, near the end of my high school years, I told my mom the philosophy that I had come up with for myself. Family was what you made it. I had an Aunt Esther who wasn't an actual Aunt, and friends who felt like siblings, and so on. She agreed with this in her own way. My mother is a Nurturer. She takes care of people, big and small, for no reason whatsoever. We made Thanksgiving about the people we loved and were thankful for.

It's a very Hispanic thing to feed those you love, so Thanksgiving became a very awesome thing. Between my love of cooking, and my mother's love of putting more food on people's plates, we did okay. We did better than.

Cue personal familial tragedy that put a damper on the holidays for a year or four, and Ta-Da we are back to a good place.


Sort of.

Punky hates Thanksgiving.  Now, eventually she'll get on here and say that she doesn't, that I'm crazy, and that I always over exaggerate things. All of this is true. I am crazy like ze fox, and I lie like a sailor. Hello! I'm Hispanic. I can't tell a story without exaggerating something.

She still hates Thanksgiving though.

She reminded me of this a few days ago when we were at the party rental place. They were supposed to refund us our security deposit on the chairs we rented for Halloween. While we were waiting we noticed that they were stripping their aisles of Halloween things. Already they had put up some Fall/Harvest/Thanksgiving stuff. This included scene-setters.

Now, Punky and I love us some scene-setters. We were going to spend close to a hundred dollars at Darkside Displays for some Halloween ones. They just happened to run out of the dungeon background we wanted. I hadn't seen any Thanksgiving ones before, so I pointed them out, and commented on how nice they were and how it might be nice to have some.

Punky said " I don't celebrate Thanksgiving. I celebrate the food part. "

This threw me for a loop. Mostly, cause we were out handling errands and finally it was our turn at the register. She still noted my confusion though, and went on to comment on the wrong-ness of celebrating the pilgrims and the awful things they did to the native Americans. Ahhh.. this made sense now. And, it was something I vaguely remembered from previous conversations.

Punky and I talk about things like this all the time, and though I'm quite familiar with most of her stances, sometimes I forget. So, I forgot about Thanksgiving. I forgot about all of it. If anyone else had mentioned Native Americans and Thanksgiving in the same sentence I would have looked like an idiot. I don't ever remember the Pilgrims. Thanksgiving to me is about love, and food, and love of food, and family and stuffing and whipped cream.

I'm an idiot. Because normally, I would be hippie-ing it up with Punky and raging at the white man and his Mayflower and his diseases. But.. dude.. pumpkin pie.

Gah.. I lost my train of thought. Finish later.

Keeping the ball rolling....

Soo.. I made a comittment to this journal, and I'm trying my damnedest to keep it. It's only ever hard because I can't really tell yet if this place will have a singular purpose or if it will turn out to be more of an all around journal. I like to compartmentalize. Sometimes I do it too much. I don't mix real live friends with internet ones. I don't mix business and pleasure. I keep everything and everyone in neat little boxes. I just haven't figured out which box the blog goes into.

It helps and doesn't that I'm writing to no one. There are no readers here, and probably won't be for a while. If there ever came to be readers here I wouldn't know where they came from. It's not like I'm advertising this place or leaving links just laying around the internet for people to find. That's the scary part of the internet. One witty quip and BAM you're famous. Anyone can see this. Anyone can read it. It's why there have been no identifying pictures of the family up yet. There may never be.

I envy parents that blog and get to tack up pictures of their kids in all kinds of adorable poses and interesting activities. At the same time, I can't just stick The Brat in my blog. What if someone recognizes him? Then they'll know too much. Maybe they'll find things out about him and our family that he didn't want shared. He has rights, even as an autistic seven year old. I try really hard to respect those.

I have a Facebook. Why? Because for all my rebelling-against-the-machine I caved. Punky got one first. I saw games and that was it. There I was plugging in an email and filling out a profile all for the privilege of Vampire Wars. Now I sit around paranoid that people who used to know me look me up on there. I don't want to be looked up. If I had wanted the myriad people of my past in my life, I would have kept them there.

I don't talk to people I went to H.S. with. I don't talk to old church members. I'm a hermit and I like it that way. My addiction to the internet stems from the fact that I can socialize and be anonymous at the same time.

So here I am. Anonymous and sulky because no one will ever read this.

Better news: Thanksgiving is coming up. I've got my menu prepared. I'm a traditionalist. Take that as you will. I love cooking. I love experimenting in the kitchen. I love new recipes. But not on Thanksgiving. The most experimenting I'll do is with desserts. Maybe... maybe... additional sides. Because you can never have too many of those. So, Thanksgiving dinner is a twenty pound turkey, all nice and golden brown. Mashed potatoes. Yukon gold of course, cause it's the holidays. Cornbread stuffing. That cranberry stuff that comes in a can. Annnd... peas and carrots... cause it's a family quirk thing. Dessert for me will be a bowl of whipped cream and a tiny sliver of pumpkin pie. Cause that's how I eat it. It makes Punky go " Would you like pie with your whipped cream? "

No. No I would not thank you. I only ever have whipped cream from November-December. I want a bowl of whipped cream, and a sliver of pie.

I think this is something I get from my mother. She takes coffee with her sugar, as opposed to the other way around.

On a different note. Target baguette's are awesome. No, I've never been to Paris, and Yes, I'm sure the real deal is better, but for a buck and change, what I tasted was nummy.

Can't wait for the weekend. Taking La Familia to a Peruvian folklore night. There shall be food. Of the Peruvian persuasion. The sort I can eat my weight in and I'm a good solid three hundred pounds. Pics! On Sunday most likely.

Till then dear non-readers.
-Angelwick

A so-so Halloween

Punky here. And as Angel mentioned, Halloween as So-so. It was better for me, because I so love the hallway. For awhile, since angel and I are get it done sort of people, the hallway has been tricked out, and we had gotten tired of it, but the actual day of when the last little touches were added, and the mood lighting was set.. It was awesome. The candy area, the witch's area and the vampire tea party were my favorites. I loved walking out the front door, and then turning to look at all the work we had done. It was totally worth it. We did good. So those were the great parts.

Lady twice removed coming over wasn't what I had hoped it would be. Though, I knew it wouldn't, and it wasn't for myself that I had held onto hope. But at least we got to see baby spider-man. I chased him around, up and down stairs, and then around some more. Which now that I think about it, might not have been the best thing to do after just falling.

I'm a Punky for many reasons, one of them happens to be because I'm so very clumsy. About an hour and a half before the guests were suppose to come, I was in the kitchen, washing a plate and turned around to put something in the trash, and the return trip to the sink.. I noticed that a spoon or a lid had fallen into the drain and was spewing water everywhere. Including the floor. Well, about the same second I noticed that, my foot slipped right out from under me, and I hit the floor. My left foot slammed into the sink, my right knee calf and shin as well. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I burst into tears. It hurt, I got freaked, and it just all around sucked. Three days later, and I'm still feeling the pain. My hips, my right shoulder and my right knee just won't stop their aching.

Another reason Halloween was so-so. And on that note, I think I'll call it a night, and head into the kitchen for some cake.

Belated Halloween Post

Sooo....


Halloween was a success. Sort of. It all really depends on whether or not you're a glass half full or half empty kind of person. I'm the half empty kind. Things could have gone a little better, but not anything that we were in control of.

Super driver picked up the rental chairs and brought them over. Halloweenies and cupcakes were done on time, and were delicious. Bat fries were nixed off the menu at the last second. There just wasn't enough time in the morning. Guests were scheduled to arrive at 1:30. However, this was a word of mouth kind of thing.. so.. that was one of the things that didn't work out.

Goth Neighbor A { names changed in case of doom } stopped by with her three boys a little early. They were on their way into the city, so of course, understandable. One of the boys was Frodo, the other was a random spooky demon with LED eyeballs. Very righteous. The baby was an elephant, and totally adorable. They brought over a candied apple. It's been ages. I felt bad for not having a present to return. I did give the boys candy for their trick or treating though.

Lady Twice Removed arrived with her little boy in tow, and it's been forever since we've laid eyes on him. He was definitely one of the up-swings of the afternoon. He was Spiderman for the day, and let me tell you, Spiderman totally enjoyed the halloweenies. Not so much the cupcakes, but he made a concession for the frosting.

Everyone else who stopped by did so at sort of random, popping in and out, not really staying for long. One particular batch of guests missed the other batch entirely, which was sort of a running thing that day. Totally drove me up a wall and reminded me where The Brat gets his OCD from. Gah. Is it really too much to ask that everyone show up in an orderly fashion, sit, drink punch and talk to each other amicably? Next year, cell phones will be banned in my house.

I'm already one of those people who doesn't believe in them. I hate BlueTooth earpieces. No one needs to be that damn attached to a phone unless they have a spouse about to go into labor any second now.. and even then.. why the hell are you away from your person of interest? In the future, my future not the world's future, all mobile phones will be banned from parties and other festive events. I have a house phone. Should someone need to find you in case of an emergency they can call my house number, where I will screen the call according to the severity of the "emergency". And yes, I will want to see hospital bills before you get invited to my next event.

Furthermore. Blah. I make it sound horrible, but it wasn't. Just awkward here and there. Lady Twice Removed happens to be a very popular neighbor, which means she can't get through a sentence without having to wave at someone or return a called out greeting. It bothers me to watch, but I can't imagine having to actually be her. It's precisely why I would make a horrible celebrity. I keep my circle of friends small, and they all know my quirks. I'm not shy about them. I am an only child, and was raised with almost impeccable manners. I say almost, 'cause duh,  someone with really great manners wouldn't brag about them. So, I'm fine with less than great manners and bragging rights.

If I am speaking to someone, particularly if I'm in the middle of a sentence and you interrupt, I will reduce you to a grease spot on the sidewalk with my glare. People, being a resident of The Bronx does not automatically make us crass hooligans. Freaking step up to me, wait for a natural break in the conversation, then proceed. It's freaking grammar school etiquette.

Otherwise..

There were two girl children whom I shall not rant about. At least, not right now. Manners. They need some. End of story.

The saddest part of the evening was realizing that the reason almost no children trick or treat in my building isn't because the economy sucks or because parents around here just aren't into it... but because they take their kids to trick or treat at stores. WTF?!?! You're supposed to knock on doors not trick or treat at the freaking dry cleaners and the pizza shop. If they were just added bonuses that would be cool, but the only trick or treaters I got were kids who lived on my side of the building who just happened to walk by the open door and notice the haunted house thing going on.

Forty dollars worth of candy for nothing.


Now that I have thoroughly trashed my favorite holiday of the year.. Pictures anyone?

 Our violently green kitchen. Yes it is that color on purpose. It was better than something out of Fool's Rush In.

 Our creepy dollies. I'm thinking of letting Punky do these captions, as I apparently suck at them. She did the dark haired doll, I did the blonde. -snicker- I said " I did the blonde." She's my rape victim. Punky and I aren't sure if she's some sort of wonky expression on my inner demons.

 Our vampire tea party. Punky took lots of pics. Flash on, Flash off. We put in a red lightbulb in our hallway for extra spookiness, but it made for awkward picture taking.

 That's Harry. He's one of those changing portraits. One second he's a normal old man, the other a hungry vampire.

 This one is Bruce. George is next to him holding his head. Our hallway is narrow, and Punky had a hard time capturing it right.

 This one is Ben.

 Beatrice and Bernadette. Our twins.

 What our foyer/hall looks like from the door. Don't mind the hideous tile on the floor, that's a rant for another day.That's Albert on the wall by the way, standing behind the netting.

 This is Voltaire, our very own zombie prostitute, hanging out in the candy bowl. The jars were an idea snatched from CreepyCupcakes.

 Better shot of the vampire tea party. Mostly my idea, but .. meh.. no one appreciates the details. One neighbor actually said that she hadn't noticed it was part of the decor, but had assumed we'd been eating off of the stuff.

 Another shot of Albert at our little witch station.

 The goodies table in the kitchen. Brew-Ha-Ha punch in the cauldron. Funfetti cupcakes that Punky made.

 Our talking skull that we rigged on to our lamp. He had longer hair before I accidentally butchered it and gave him emo hair. Punky and I still crack up about it.

 A better shot of him.

 Our candy table again.

 The witch station in better lighting.

 Up close shot of those oh so ignored details.

 Louis and my whore ghost lady. She's on the list of spookables I'd bow-chicka-wow-wow. Along with the nurse lady from Silent Hill. As long as I put down a tarp. Punky said so.

 Them in better lighting.

 Albert. Hanging out. Watching over stuff.

Albert, mummy in red.

And those be our Halloween pics. More on the individual details in another post. After I eat some candy and put away the angry ranting.

-Angelwick.

Super Driver

The day was salvaged by our super driver and his amazing ability to show up just when we need him. All last minute errands were run last night. Mission Accomplished. Halloween playlist is halfway put together. Candy is in the bowl. Apartment is spookified.

All in all not a bad start to the holiday.

-Angelwick

Aaarrrrgh!

Today is not a good day. Not a good day at all. But, I'm still sort of crossing my fingers and hoping it'll turn out alright.


We need to go to the bank. And to the party store for the chair rentals. And .. elsewhere. Annnd... our usually very reliable driver is M.I.A. Also, he's not picking up his phone. Nor is his brother. Yes... that's how desperate I am, I resorted to calling his brother.

Technically, if I can find our wayward driver by 2:00 - 2:20 the day will be salvageable. Rushed, but not ruined. Otherwise, I'm up shit creek sans paddle.

Here's hoping for a call-back any second now.

-Angelwick

In charge

I dislike being in charge of designing blogs. I don't ever seem to be happy with them.

Hello, I'm Punky, and I'll be posting here with Angel. I don't have too much to say about myself at the time. It's 3:30 here, and I should be in bed asleep, but money and Halloween are weighting heavy on my mind. Earlier we put up almost all the goodies in the hallway, and though it looks really nice, I think it needs more. We threw together some glasses, scrape book paper, and creepy cloth to make candle holders. They look so good, but it's still not enough. Or so it seems. I don't actually think it's as bad as I feel it is, but you can't fight what you feel, expect you can. Hopefully in the morning it'll be better.

Tomorrow it's more decorations, and the beginning stages of cooking and baking. As soon as it's all over, we'll post pictures, and give details as to how the party and trick or treating went.

Breaking new ground.

So .. here we are yet again, grabbing a blog name and screwing around with a template. 'Cause this time we swear that we'll post regularly, and keep a proper journal. This time we might. Alot has changed, for the better, and we'd like to put that down somewhere. We're needy creatures, worthwhile things aren't worthwhile if someone else doesn't say so.

It helps that this time we've got a functioning camera, as opposed to the grainy one on an old virgin mobile phone. Handy for putting up pics of things we make, cook, craft, and otherwise bewitch into existence.


So here we are. Me, Angelwick. Punky.. the Punky. The Brat, who's actually at school and not here breaking ground on a new blog. Porthos is in bed, and who knows where Aramis is. I guess you'll meet them later when we start posting about our Halloween adventures.

-Angelwick.