Honey for Sale

One day a few years ago I was out driving with my then boyfriend, T. We were on some hillbilly back road just enjoying the day. When something caught my eye. It was a handmade sign that said Honey for Sale. There was no resisting it. I love things like that.

 

I do want to see the Hot Wheels museum that someone built in their basement. Yes, I would like to see the world’s largest ball of paint. And yes, I will stop and buy some fucking delicious boiled peanuts from a guy on the side of the road that looks like he would skin me alive and eat it with me watching. Thank you.

I am as shocked as you are that I am even still alive.

 

Also, I am a bit of a honey fanatic. And by that I mean I have more than 3 quarts of different kinds of honey and honey products and honey combs and honey paraphernalia. Luckily,  here in Florida there are a lot of apiaries. And they all have my favorite honey, orange blossom. Yum!

I drove past this billboard more than 20 times before I noticed the rings.

I insisted that we drive down the long, twisting, dirt road so that I could score some golden manna from heaven. Despite not being actually out of honey. But I didn’t want to miss the opportunity of scoring a new honey connection.  So we turned down the side road.

 

It was a long drive with several twists and turns. I was beginning to worry that the sign was just a trap to lure unsuspecting, honey-loving tourists to their demise. T was ready to turn back and give up. But I am beyond stubborn. I was going to succeed in my quest for honey or die trying (which was looking more and more likely).

 

Finally, we pulled up to a ramshackle house. There was a tiny shed out front with another hand painted sign. Honey for Sale.

But there was nobody around. No phone number to call. No bell to ring. And no honey in sight.

 

I decided to investigate. T is a northern city boy and was already scared of what type of Deliverance style country folk we were going to find out there in the boonies. But I have lived in some redneck-y parts of the state. These were my people. Sort of.

 

I hopped out and started calling out. “Hello? Is anyone here? We’re here to buy some honey.”

 

The only response was the buzzing of bees and the wind blowing through the trees (haha, I rhymed). I walked onto the deserted property. It was hard to tell if it was an abandoned property, or if the people were just not home.  I should have turned back right then. But, I really wanted that damn honey.

 

I called out again. “Hello? Anyone?”

 

Suddenly, I heard a rustling in the bushes around the corner. And a noise. A weird loud noise that was unfamiliar to me.

 

I began to slowly back away, moving towards T’s truck. I wanted no part of whatever was in those bushes.

 

I walked backwards for about 5 steps when suddenly; about a dozen geese burst from the bushes honking and swarming towards me.

Okay, full disclosure time, I am kind of scared of geese. And swans, and ducks, and roosters. They just freak me out and they are super mean.

 

As soon as I saw them, I screamed and turned and ran. T heard me scream and started the truck up. I was hauling ass to get to it before the geese caught me.

 

He called through an open window, “What is it? What’s going on?”

 

But I didn’t want to pause to explain it to him. I shouted, “Put the truck in gear! Open the door!”

 

He flung the door open and I hurled myself in like Bo Duke sliding across the hood of their Charger.

And that’s when the geese came round the corner and T saw them. They were pissed and loudly honking. They were definitely coming after me.

 

T started cracking up. “You were running from geese? I’ve never seen you look so scared. Of geese.”

 

“Shut up and drive! They are getting too close!”

 

They came right up to my window and started trying to attack me. I was really freaked out by this point. “Go! Go! Go!”

We sped away like we were leaving the scene of a crime. I never got my honey And T never let me forget my fear of domesticated water fowl.

Tattoos

My brother T, sister J, and I had all agreed we would get matching tattoos when we were growing up. I kind of forgot about the agreement as I figured none of us would be able to agree on an image.

 

My brother went to Europe for a summer when I was 20-ish. When he came back he had a tattoo. As soon as J and I saw it, we knew it was the one. J went out and got hers immediately.

 

But I hesitated. I didn’t know where to get it, or what color. And then I was suddenly 26 and having heart surgery and taking blood thinners and was not allowed to get any tattoos.

 

So, now, I am no longer on blood thinners and not in any danger from my health issues.

 

I took a week off work this week (which has been amazing). On Wednesday, I was hanging out with my brother, T, and casually mentioned that I finally had a few days off and could go get my tattoos. I have had two planned out for over a year.

 

T told me that he had the card of a tattoo artist that only booked appointments with people that were referred by people he already worked with. We happened to be less than a mile away.

 

We met with the artist, A, who was extremely cool and friendly. And I scheduled to come back the next day.

 

I was finally going to get my first tattoo. I was so excited that the adrenaline started hurting my veins. I started feeling nauseous and couldn’t sleep Wednesday night.

 

But I got them done on Thursday. So here they are.

 

The first is a heartbeat. Not just any heartbeat. It is MY first heartbeat after my last heart surgery. It was my first ECG with a normal heartbeat. I have wanted this one for almost two years.

20140328_182634 - Copy

Love!

 

 

The second is the one that my brother and sister also have. It is an ouroboros from Fullmetal Alchemist, which is a manga TV show that my brother is really into. I like the show too. But more so, I like ouroboros. They are heavily associated with ancient mythology and alchemy. They are supposed to symbolize the cyclical nature of life.

 

How impressively  freckle-y am I? And I am not even the freckle-y one in he family!

How impressively freckle-y am I? And I am not even the freckle-y one in he family!



I am already planning my next ones. Probably Harry Potter and LOTR related.

 

I expected it to hurt a lot more than it did. I was so nervous and freaking out. I was actually shaking! I know after having heart surgery you would think it would be no big deal.

The one on my wrist at worst felt like being stung by a hornet. The one on my back actually tickled in a few places. And I love the way the vibrations from the tattoo gun were reverberating in my chest. Afterwards, it just felt warm. And now it doesn’t hurt at all.

 

Sorry for not posting something more interesting, but I am excited about them. Also, did I mention being on vacation?

Guest Post!

I had wanted to tell this story about something that happened when I was very young. I have a poor memory of it as I was very young. So I sent my mother an email asking her to help me out. What she wrote was so funny I decided to just post her email (with her permission).

 

So, here it is; in my mother’s words:

 

I want to set this up for you: your sister, M,  had just returned from spending a few days with Uncle J and his family.  They had purchased a necklace of “Pop Beads” for her.

Unlike the “pop beads” I was familiar with, the new strand had spacers (they looked like very small “life savers” candies) between every bead.  When she came home wearing the necklace you wanted them (it is unknown if you wanted them to keep or simply wanted to get a better look at and touch them).

 

Lastly, I am 91/2 months pregnant with J, huge and due at any moment (which means you are 2 years and 5 months of age).

 

M was fairly agreeable to you having some of the beads. Upon inspection I decided that the spacers were too dangerous for you to have (because they were so small they presented a choking danger) and told M that she could let you have some of the beads, if she wanted but to remove the spacers.  She agreed to do that and gave you some of the beads from her necklace.

 

A little earlier in the day your father had found a house close to where we were living (for sale) and one of us called the realtor, who arranged to meet us at the house.  We gave the telephone number of the realtor to your other sister,W, and M and left to meet with him.

 

I honestly do not remember anything about the house…we were gone about 20-25 minutes when the realtor received a call from his office informing him that our children were trying to get in touch with us, as there was some sort of emergency at the house.  We barely said good bye and drove straight home.

 

Arriving home, W told us that you had gone into M and W’s room and taken all of the “pop beads” and spacers and were stuffing the spacers into your nose.  I attempted to find out if they knew if you had any spacers currently in your nose, but they didn’t know because they didn’t know how many there were to begin with.

 

I drove us (your father stayed home with everyone else) to the hospital ER, which was pretty weird because they thought I was in labor and had to bring you with me.  I informed the treating physicians of everything I knew about the beads and spacers and the approximate time frame.

 

Several of the doctors made attempts to look into your nasal passages for the spacers but you were VERY uncooperative and they gave you a nosebleed digging around for the phantom spacers.  You screamed bloody murder and upset everyone else in the ER, as they were sure you were being needlessly tortured.

The physicians then decided they needed to X-ray your nasal passages, throat and lungs to see if any of the spacers had made their way to your lungs. There is a device X-ray techs use to X-ray small uncooperative children and I have forgotten the name given to it, but it is cylindrical shaped. The techs raise the child’s arms and slide the cylinder down and then secure the device with the child held in place with arms over their head.

They then take the X-ray photos.  Of course, I was not permitted in the room as I was 9 1/2 months pregnant, so you were FREAKING OUT and only hearing my voice but not seeing me made it worse.

 

You were a pretty small, thinnish child and it was agreed that you had a mighty powerful set of lungs as your screaming could be heard on every floor of the hospital.  The physicians could not find anything and decided to send you (and me) home (more I think to regain some order in the hospital than anything else).

 

I sensed a collective sigh of relief when we walked out the door.  Since you had been sedated, and didn’t talk yet during the X-ray incident, you fell asleep and didn’t wake up again until morning.

 

That is all I can remember…

Thank you, to my mother.

 

Sad Sexy Math

Okay, so I started thinking about my sex life. I guess because I am not having one at the moment. And naturally it lead to me to consider my previous sexual partners and I started wondering how much of my sexual life was spent actually having sex. Because I feel like I have had very little sex in my life.

 

But of course, the only way to be sure is to do the math. So I did. Here. For science. And you can’t say no to science.

 

I felt the need to explain a bit of this because I was worried about being slut shamed. But really, I don’t believe in the concept of being ‘too promiscuous.’ I’ve never had a one night stand, though I might like to. These people I was only with once or for one night were because I didn’t WANT to be with them another time.

 

There were various reasons for this. Sometimes because they were so bad I knew there was no fixing it. But mostly because they acted like I was supposed to be their slave once they got me off. Let me tell you men something, your dick doesn’t do anything that any other dick can’t do… And I can get myself off better than anyone else can.

 

Also, my vagina isn’t the South Pole. Just because you have ventured out to it, doesn’t mean you can plant your flag and stake your claim. You don’t own it. I will do what I want with it.

 

I am hoping, in posting this, that some other brave souls will follow suit. I am very interested to see someone’s other than my own. It really was very simple. And of course, these are all estimates. But they are extremely accurate estimates.

 

It was a simple math problem once I laid out all the information. Feel free to email me at maurnas@gmail.com if you want any assistance in making your own. Please make your own, even if you never share it. It was fun and informative.

 

So, here you go:

 

 

My Age

Partner

Relationship Duration(in days)

Times

Percentage

17

G

270

10

0.03%

18

T

1

1

100%

19

J

900

600

76%

21

D

30

4

13%

22

M

30

10

30%

22

V

1

1

100%

22

S

30

4

13%

22

R

30

6

20%

22

A

1260

40

0.03%

25

D

30

4

13%

26

S

1

1

100%

26

D

1

1

100%

26

T

30

4

13%

26

M

1

1

100%

26

M

120

10

14%

27

A

720

300

41%

28

J

1

3

300%

29

R

120

45

37%

Total: 12 years

18 people

3576 days (9.6 years)

1140

31%

 

4380 days since I started dating. Minus 1140 times I’ve had sex. 3240 days I haven’t had sex since I was 17. That’s 8.87 years of no sex! Which is 73% of my dating life. Pathetic.

 

If you have something nasty to say, please don’t bother commenting. My life is my own and I couldn’t change my past even if I wanted to. Sure, there are several people I would have preferred I hadn’t slept with. There are many I wish I had never even met. But, that’s life.

PS  Android  really should make an app for this. Get on that guys.

 what about you guys? Anyone want to share?

 

Suppository

After this post, I figured I may as well bite the bullet and finish what I started. So, here you go, the next humiliating thing that happened on that hospital stay.

Two days after the fingering incident, the hospital and my doctor were interested in releasing me to go home and recover in the comfort of my own bed. Where the TV  isn’t censored. It’s a religious hospital and I can only go so long without seeing adult language, adult content, and nudity.

Displaying 20130613_033839.jpg

I took this beauty from the same chain of hospitals. I wish I had taken a picture of the 20 foot tall mosaic at my hospital. I may go back and get one. It’s worth it.

Some of you may not know this, but you aren’t allowed to leave the hospital after a surgery until you have a *ahem* bowel movement. (I won’t be offended if you choose to skip this post and move on to the next one).

The problem was that I was not having one. Between the reaction to the morphine, the physical pain, the emotional humiliation, the medicines, and the terrible cardiac ward food, nothing was forthcoming.

Every time the nurse came in she would check the toilet to see if I had had one. Because in the hospital you are not a trustworthy adult. You are a petulant child that must shit into a pan to get released.

Another day went by. Waiting to be released from the hospital is exactly how I imagine hell to be (if it existed). You are in serious pain. They wake you up every few hours all day and night to poke you with needles and press on your wounds painfully so you never get a goddamn minute of sleep. They humiliate you. There is no much bullshit and red tape. And then, you can’t leave. Ever!

Finally the nurse came in to talk to me directly. This was the same one from the fingering story and she had been avoiding me in an obvious and humorous way. She told me that it had been 4 days with no movements and it might be a good idea to take a suppository.

I didn’t know what she meant by a suppository, I mean, I knew what one was. But I thought that’s how you gave pills to horses and how teenagers get really fucked up on ecstasy.

Fun fact: A suppository can be administered not just up the anus but also in the vagina or the urethra for men. You’re welcome.

For my five male readers; there you go, gentleman.

But she was talking about giving me some kind of stool softener suppository to help me “go” so I could get the hell out of the hospital. I really really did not want to do this. But I wanted to go home more.

She got me the suppository. It was huge! Which I guess makes sense because it’s not like I was trying to swallow it.

Like a fucking missile!

I went into the bathroom. Remember the whole serious agony/heart surgery thing? Yeah, there was no way I could contort myself to get this pill in my own ass. I could still barely bend at my hip bones.

I’m glad I got to use this picture.

I called the nurse back and told her the situation. The look on her face was one I will treasure for many long years to come. I swear to you, I could read her mind at that exact moment. And she was thinking “Seriously, bitch? I already had to root around in your nasty vagina. Now I have to put my hand up your ass? Fuck this job.”

But instead she tried to convince me that I really could do it if I just tried harder. And I assured her that there was no fucking way I could bend like that without re-opening my wounds.

I did not feel the slightest bit bad for her. This was her job. And if anyone was going to be embarrassed it was me. And I had instead chosen to find it all very hilarious. But that may have been the drugs I was on.

At this point, A stepped in. He offered to do it.

I tried to talk him out of it, mostly to fuck with the nurse. But he was very insistent on putting that suppository in my ass (you men, so obsessed with anal).

So we went back into the bathroom and he assisted me. I assume nobody wants the gory details of this, it was pretty straightforward anyway.  I have never taken anything for constipation before or since. But I can say it definitely works as intended. I was released later that day.

Of course, I developed a huge hematoma and had to go back in to the hospital almost immediately, but that is a story for another day.

Wait…Again?

Okay, so I got nominated for another blogger award. The Liebster Award. Which is weird. What is going on in the universe?

I’m talking about having sex with cartoons and being on my period! But you know what; it gives me more satisfaction than anything else in my life. Thank you to the charming Sarah at Two Three Or Not Two Three for nominating me. I truly appreciate it.

And then, before the Liebster Award has even gone cold in it’s grave, I got nominated for another one, the One Lovely Blog Award. This time by the witty Steph over at We Don’t Chew Glass. Which is funny because I nominated her below. Feel the love, bloggers!

And now to the questions!

1. How long have you been blogging?

Since October of last year. So, 5 months? Look at me, I didn’t think anybody would want to read my bizarre shit. Thanks guys!

2. What inspired you to start your blog?

I think I answered this on my last award questionnaire. So I am going to plagiarize myself here:

This is a really long complicated answer. I love to write very much and had been wanting to start a blog for some time. I kept want to do a craft blog because I have a ridiculous amount of crafty hobbies. But then I suddenly decided to start blogging anonymously about some of my problems. In doing so, I realized I also had a lot of funny stories that I wanted people to know too. But I didn’t think it fit with my original blog, so I started this one. I may still do a craft blog in the future. But for right now I like to imagine that I am an archaeologist of my own mind. Excavating and preserving memories right here for what I hope is your amusement.

3. What is your favorite color?

This is going to make me sound so crazy, but I love every color except for neons and pastels. And I have different favorite colors for different things. Clothes, houses, electronic devices. In general though, I guess purple?

4. What is your all time favorite movie?

Yikes. I can’t pick one. I seriously love movies. I would need a top 50 or a top 10 directors. Can I do top 5? Of course I can, this is my blog. These movies pick me up no matter how bad my day was. And I will watch them over and over again.

1. The Philadelphia Story (1940)- Picture this Cary Grant, James Stewart, Katherine Hepburn and directed by George Cukor. It’s amazing!

2. Be Kind, Rewind (2008)- This is one of those movies that I can watch a million times.

3. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)- If you haven’t seen this, stop reading my blog and go watch it. Now!

4. Stranger Than Fiction (2006)- My favorite Will Ferrell movie. Nothing like anything else he has ever been in.

5. Harold and Maude (1971)- This is the most romantic and lovely movie ever.

5. When do you typically work on your blog?

I work a lot of hours at my job. Most days I come home and write for at least an hour. Some nights I come home and spend the rest of the night reading blogs, commenting, writing. And weekends. I have no life, relationship, or children. My free time is my own.

6. Coffee, tea, or neither?

Up until this past year, I had only had coffee twice. And I hated it. Then I discovered iced mocha lattes. I only have one about once a week because I don’t want to get addicted. But I am a tea fanatic. I have a serious collection. I like hot herbal tea with honey when I don’t feel well. And iced black tea or iced herbal tea (sweetened with honey) any time. It’s pretty much all I drink besides water.

7. Is writing a career or a hobby for you?

I don’t get paid to write, if that’s what you are asking. Though I would love to. I tend to be a bit obsessive and writing has always been one of my biggest ones. I write two blogs, essays, short fiction, fiction novels, poetry, and I am working on a graphic novel with more in mind. I write a lot. I would love for it to be a career someday.

8. What do you love most in this world?

Remember when I said I had a list for everything? I have one for this too. I’ll just do top 5 again:

1. Reading. Anything and everything (except romance, sports or finance). My favorites are sci-fi, horror, anything about diseases and food politics.

2. Writing. See above

3. Eating. I love food. Cooking, baking, grilling. And then eating the results! I am particularly fond of BBQ, salads and smoothies.

4. Music and movies. This could be ten posts so I won’t even go there.

5. Crafting. I have too many hobbies. Which I will eventually share with you here.

6. Okay, I had to sneak in one more. My little sister, J. If you are reading this; I love you more than sleep but less than books. (sleep would be #7).

9. Can you share something that you have learned recently?

I watch a lot of TEDTalks. They are amazing and everyone should watch them. Anyone there is one on Netflix about Life Hacks. And I learned that I have been tying my shoes wrong my whole life. Watch it here. It’s only 3 minutes long. If you are reading my blog, you have 3 minutes.

10. Where is your favorite place to shop online?

I probably shop the most on Amazon (who doesn’t?). But I LOVE Etsy. I could spend my life looking and millions of dollars on that stuff. Also, I sell my crafts on there (shameless plug, sorry).

11. What is your biggest pet peeve?

Hmm. People touching me without permission? Men telling me to smile? I think I have a lot of them that relate to inequality. Or in general. I try not to let my neuroses affect others, though. My issues are my own. But seriously, don’t touch me.

I am supposed to nominate 11 bloggers with under 500 followers. So, let’s see…

1. writer B is me

3. A redheads guide

4. Transplanted to the South

5. Gunmetal Geisha

6. We Don’t Chew Glass

7. A Buick in the Land of Lexus (I can’t figure out how many followers she has, my apologies if it is more than 500)

8. Stop Me If I Told You This

9. Come Up Higher

10. Damsal Interrupted

11. Swimming to my 50s

There were many others I wanted to nominate, but they had too many followers. Not surprisingly. And I am fine with them answering the same questions I did. I’m lazy like that. Go forth bloggers and know that you are appreciated. Or don’t bother participating, you are all still awesome either way.

19 Fictional Dudes I Love

There are a lot of lists going around right now in my blogger world. Things you hate, things you love, things that turn you on. I am kind of a list-y freak. If you ask me to make a top ten of anything, literally anything; I could in two minutes. Fruit? Zombie movies? Diseases? I’ve got it all in my head.

I was going to do a list of things I love but that would take too long. So instead I am going to talk about something else. I’m going to talk about being attracted to animated characters. Not in a serious, “furry” type of way. But if I was a cartoon character…well, here you go.

Human:

6. Cyril Figgis (from Archer): Nerd. Horn rimmed glasses. Greying at the temples. And there are plenty of implications that he is packing much more than a gun in his pants. Plus, sweater vest.

5. Marshall Lee (from Adventure Time): He’s a demon/vampire. He’s adorable. And that singing voice!

4. Li Shang (from Mulan): He’s handsome. He’s earnest. And he fell for a strong independent woman in a time when that shit was seriously looked down on, while she was in drag, no less.

3. Ralph (from Wreck-It Ralph): He’s a hairy, lumberjack type. He overcomes his bad guy nature and does the right thing. And Felix is pretty foxy too.

2. Dean (from the Iron Giant): He befriends a young boy and helps him to harbor a fugitive robot. Plus, he’s a welder and that shit is so sexy!

1. Roger (from 101 Dalmations): He is so gorgeous. He is a kind, socially awkward musician. He was a hipster before that was a thing. And he is the handsomest Disney prince.

Non-Human:

6. Sully (from Monsters Inc): His love for Boo is irresistible and charming. He is tall and crazy hairy.

5. Balto (from Balto): He is heroic. He is the underdog (no pun intended), the scrappy hobo dog that saves a town. And it is based on a true story.

4. Gil (from Finding Nemo): He’s a sexy , tough guy with a scar. Also, the accent.

3. Jake (from the Rescuer’s Down Under): He’s like the animal version of Indiana Jones. With an Australian accent.

2. Robin Hood (from the fox animated Robin Hood): Again with the heroes. I even thought he was sexy as the stork when he was in disguise.

1. Basil (from the Great Mouse Detective): He is smart and sexy. And he actually reminds me of both Roger from 101 Dalmatians and Jake from The Rescuers Down Under.

And while I am at it: Some actual human, non-animated fictional characters I have a crush on. Not the actors (though they are cute too) but the actual character.

7. Neville Longbottom (Matthew Lewis from Harry Potter): I know he is hot now, but I liked him from the beginning. He is so brave and good but not in an obnoxious Superman type of way.

6. Mister Spock (Leonard Nimoy from Star Trek): Smart and logical. I know it would never work out between us. But I can still dream. Plus, he rocks some serious eye makeup.

5. Mohinder Suresh (Sendhil Ramamurthy from Heroes): He is so earnest and always trying to do the right thing. Plus he’s a doctor.

4. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman from Sherlock): Do I need to even clarify? Smartest private detective in the world and his ex-military playboy companion. I know it’s two people, but let me have this!

*sigh*

3. Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford from Indiana Jones): Better than Han Solo. Why? The accessories. Hat, whip, satchel, glasses, bow tie. Besides, he is an adventurer and a professor.

I couldn’t decide between the two.

You’re welcome

2. Hoban “Wash” Washburne (Alan Tudyk from Firefly): You know that opening scene with him playing with plastic dinosaurs? I was sold from that point and he didn’t disappoint. Kind and caring and funny. Best character ever!

Still makes me laugh!

1.  Peregrin Took (Billy Boyd from Lord of The Rings): I would totally violate my height guidelines for him. I think hobbits are all pretty adorable. And I love how he gets into trouble all the time. Also, that hair. I kind of have a crush on the whole movie cast, but, he’s the best. Can I just marry a hobbit? Please?

*swoon*

And if nothing else have proved my true nerdiness, I believe this list has ended all doubt. I almost did one for fictional, cartoon robots but I thought that might be pushing it. Apparently more than cartoon animals.

How about you guys? Who do you have unrealistic crushes on? Please comment so I know I am not the only freak in love with fictional characters. Or attracted to cartoons.