Now in color!

My BEEGEST (that's cat speak for "biggest," except bigger) thanks to my awesome friend and fellow blog buddy Mike D, who brought the cover of my book to life!

 I haven't posted a ton of stuff about the book here because I realized I'm not at all comfortable with self-promotion. But I do thank those of you who have bought the book, and extra thanks to those who left reviews on Amazon!

However, I am proud to promote the illustrator, my bro, Nik Houser, whose first "art" lesson came from my when I was in the third grade and he was in the first. (There may or may not have been stuffed citizens in the class as well. I was thinking big.) After taking one look at his work, I realized at the age of 8 that I had better stick with my day job, since I could not draw a circle round. I still can't, come to think of it.

Anyhow. In addition to penning darkly humorous comics, Nik has also published an ebook and has had his work featured in many sci-fi, horror and fantasy anthologies. So check him out.

Lastly, for those of you who are curious why we have different last names...I really don't have a good answer. Mr. RK's last name is not the same as mine. It amuses him no end when we get mail for "Ms. RK and Mr. RK" because legally, only one of those people exist. I changed my name in college just because I felt like it. You know - the most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I'm the only one!

However, my dad has done some research into the origins of our name and ancestors and apparently it's German for "a Jewish person who takes others into their home to care for them." I think that's rather nice, actually.

Because based many of our personalities, it should be more like, "Smart alec who talks before thinking and often squarely aims for the rock in the middle of the river, rather than taking the smooth path!"

But hey. Maybe that's what my last name means in the original British English. Joey and Claire, is this true? :)

Advice for the uninitiated

I'd like to think I was better at getting away with things when I was a teenager.

I swear, it's like there is a multiple choice for the complete dumbass and the kiddo/my adopted brother/my "bad little brother" is circling all the wrong answers.

Such as:

1. You want to smoke pot on a weekend you're spending with relatives, who are dumb enough to let you go to a party unsupervised, even though they aren't supposed to. Do you:

A. Decide not to smoke it, as you want to be good this weekend and get more freedom, which you have been pressing for/bitching about?
B. Go off on your own and smoke it, and tell no one?
C. Smoke it, and then come to your brother's going away party and offer it to all of his teenage guests? (Your mom is also at this party.)

And the winner is...you guessed it! C.

2. You get busted with cigarette butts and makeshift gravity bongs in your room. Do you:
A. Take responsibility and apologize?
B. Promise not to do it again?
C. Make a complete denial and angrily tell the staff that you "don't smoke in plastic" containers?

Any guesses? C again!

3. You make a plan to meet up with stoner friends and, well, get stoned. Do you:
A. Make plans over the phone?
B. Make plans via text but delete all texts before you meet up?
C. Make detailed plans over text describing exactly who, when, and where you will get stoned and leave them on your phone, which is at your adopted sister/advocate's house?

Once again... C wins the day!

Mind you, I had to have a conversation with the kiddo about sexting. E.g., don't do it.

His reply: "Hellooooooooo! Of course I wouldn't do that! I'm not stupid!"

Note to self: refer back to the multiple choice quiz. But while we're pointing fingers and laughing, I have to rat on myself. At a meeting today, I was talking to someone who used to volunteer for us and she referred to her boyfriend.

Me: "I didn't know he was your boyfriend now!"
Her: "Oh, not Guy X. Guy Y. Guy X couldn't shit or get off the pot."
Me: "And guy Y...shit?"

Well, that expression had to come from somewhere, right? Tell me I'm not the only person who asked that question.

Neck deep in flamingos

The end is indeed near. Really, it is.

My whole (younger) life, I always laughed at people who said they felt old remembering things that happened 20 years ago (I have very vivid memories from that time now), and I always told people, "Age is a social construction!"

Well, my little brother B turned 18 yesterday. Holy fuck! Mr. RK said, "You know that means he's old enough to buy porn now." Thank you, I need some mental bleach now.

But as my good friend Mike D reminded me, "Ever hear of the internet? Porn is everywhere..." Incidentally, he prefaced that with, "That's where your mind goes?" Hey! It was Mr. RK's point!

And then today, offering cookies to our intern at work, who is taking a year off in between high school and college, I made the mistake of telling him I can't eat them.

His reply: "I'm young, I can eat anything!"

OUCH!

My reply to that: "I can't eat them because I'm diabetic, and they're not vegan."

I had several other replies that involved cursing and smacking him with a legal sized envelope, but we won't go into that here. Let's just say he revised his statement to say I was "young-ish." He doesn't even know how old I am, but clearly I've got one foot in the nursing home already.

So I stand corrected. Age may be a social construction, but clearly people younger than I am are helping construct it.

Incidentally, the title of this post is relevant. I was trying to reach the kiddo the other day, and a friend who is also trying to mentor him (luckily this friend's hair is already gray) texted me and said, "He has his phone, but he is out delivering flamingos."

WAT!

So I called him and he picked up the phone and said, "Hey RK! I have to call you back, I'm neck deep in flamingos!"

Apparently one of the staff at his group home has a side job delivering plastic pink flamingos.

I don't know if I want to know.

Stolen from Joey

I stole this meme, and the purple text, from Joey, who also has a blog called Stolen. How's that for fitting? 

I tag anyone who wants to participate. Come on, you know you want to.

1.  If there is one candy left in the box, do you have to eat it, or can you leave it sitting there all alone for the next few weeks?
WEEKS? Seriously? Who the fuck wrote this question? I live with Mr. RK, remember? He inhales chocolate.

2. What do you want to remember most of all, if you survive to be very old?

To keep a sense of humor. Also to keep being a pain in the ass. If I live to be very old, I'll be able to get away with it much more than I do now, because they'll say, "Oh, she's just old." You see, this is my theory - that pain in the ass people start out that way and stay that way. I really don't think it has to do with age. Old people just get away with it.

3.Would you enjoy being a very rich and famous celebrity? ( after all you don't HAVE to be like the unedifying Charles Saatchi and Nigella Lawson and pay someone £1,600 a week to clean your silver and gold collection....)
No. I mean, no fucking way. I like privacy. I don't even do Facebook. And prior to marrying Mr. RK (and today is our anniversary!), I told everyone I dated, "If you have any political ambition higher than the library board, I will leave you."

4.What piece of music do you personally find most emotionally moving?
Instrumental music, definitely. But I can't narrow it down. Swan Lake comes to mind.

5. How do you deal with anxiety, depression and bad times?

If you're not new to this blog, you know this one. I live with anxiety and depression and I fight them every step of the way. As for bad times...I try to laugh as much as I can, when I can, vent, and try to get over it.

6. What do you love doing that bores everyone else stiff?
Making lists. (Says Mr. RK.)

7. Did you ever encounter an inanimate object that seemed to have a will of its own?
OMG, our kitchen table. The fucking thing is EVIL, I tell you. Wrought iron that entangles everything from kneecaps to toes. I'm looking for a new one, but Mr. RK has this kind of woodworking snobbery that so far has prevented me from replacing it.

8. What is your very favorite hotel or restaurant? 

Depends. Hotels and restaurants are totally separate. I like a lot of places, actually. My current favorite food is this small Vietnamese place that serves what must be crack on a plate. I mean, I've never had crack, but they must put it in their tofu. I love the hotel we stayed at in London last time.

9. What do you wish you had known when you were 18? (if you are under 18, ignore this question)

Oooh, where to begin? Things get better. You can pick your own family. And if someone is a shitty kisser, they'll be even worse in bed. Just cut your losses right then and there!

Just an ordinary week...if you're a cannibal, a sicko, or an idiot.

Once again, I will start with my disclaimer: I would not, could not make this up!

I live in an urban area about 20 miles from this place. Which might as well be an entire fucking solar system away from where I live, based on one week's police log, which was so fucking FUCKED UP that it made a national website. Funny enough, although I am a regular reader of local news, Mr. RK saw this on Fark first.

I thought I had heard my share of weird and bizarre stuff sitting next to the police reporter at my last job, but. Oh. My. GOD.

Here are some highlights. Tell me how they stack up to your town:

First, there's the weird:
Police located a teen-aged boy wearing a diaper. The boy admitted that he was wearing the diaper for sexual gratification. Because regular underwear just won't do the trick.

The weirder: 
A caller asked an officer to contact a neighbor about an issue on her behalf, as she (the caller) was susceptible to cannibalism. I...um. What does "susceptible" mean? Like, every other Tuesday? And WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY DO TO FOLLOW UP ON THIS CALL?! Inquiring minds want to know.

And the what-the-fuck stupid:

• A man called to report the theft of his birth certificate, but then learned his mom had it. Right. I wonder if his IQ was also reported missing.
  A man leaving a party through a window "thought he was wanted by the police, but he wasn't." It wouldn't surprise me if he had said, "I thought you knew about that meth sale from last week!"
  
  
  
• A concerned citizen called police after observing what appeared to be an adult man hugging a 10-year-old boy. The boy actually turned out to be a short female adult. Now, as a short person, am I a potential victim?
• A woman called police to report that her son's dog had gone blind. She was advised to contact a veterinarian. Or, they could have told her that the dog *knew* what would happen if he kept it up with that diaper.
• A woman called police after her neighbor was trying to “hit on her”. He was not likely making a favorable impression as he also was allegedly trying to trap her cats. Police advised the man to leave the caller alone. What about leaving the cats alone? HEY, bucko! 
• A citizen called police to see if her roommate, who was moving out, was allowed to have friends help her move. Because you never know...one of them could be a cannibal.

Things I would like to know

1. Someone in a design room somewhere put little pockets into the pyjama/boxer sleep shorts I have. Why? Do people think I'm going to wake up in the middle of the night and put, I don't know, peanuts or dental floss in my pockets? Condoms? I don't even put things into regular pants pockets, let alone tiny, flimsy cotton shorts I am going to sleep in. If I put so much as a napkin in the pocket, they'd probably fall down.

2. The motivation behind the question from Captain Obvious, who walked into a crowded restaurant where we were already waiting, along with several other people, tonight. He signaled the waitress and I said, "We're all waiting." He asked, "You guys got here first?" No - we're all holograms. Like that episode of Dr. Who where Amy Pond wasn't really there, even thought she appeared to be.

3. Why my little brother (the one in his 30s, not the one in his teens) saw fit to send my family his latest standup video, which is so crass I won't even post it here. (Hint: one of the cleanest lines in the whole thing is, "I could lick the pink off of a..." You get it.) In my mind, he's still eight years old. He's not old enough to say the word...you know. He told me he "knew it probably wasn't your thing but didn't want to exclude you." However, he said he's not sending it to our stepmom. Probably because he wants to see his next birthday.

4. Why, on a day when I already had a headache, I get bonked in the head while attempting to change the water jug at work. (I can hear you laughing, but this is true.)

How about you? Anything you have a burning desire to know?