Kool is in the heart...(for now)

I cut my dead yellow broomstick hair a few inches and dyed it a very sedate and Mom-ly brown. Got a few reddish tones in there, which is a bit of an aging and unflattering color tone for me, but hey. I'm just tryin to grow this hair out LOOOOOOOOONG so I can someday be a psychotically amazing blue-green-turquoise fairy from outerspace with azure locks to my waist, famous throughout the land for being so breathtakingly effervescent and inspirationally true and pure to the spirit of color and art. At least I am smart enough to know that I will NEVER get there unless I can stop coloring and let it grow in peace. le sigh. Why does patience have to be a virtue? Why can't impulse be a virtue?

I look fine and dandy. My summer clothes are pretty soul-less anyhow, so here we go, just havin a summer. A little brown haired chicky-mama with a tshirt, birks, and cut-offs on, playin with her babies. Totally chill.

Joy's fashion opinions and BaaBaa Beauty Kit

Well, my dear hair is now absolutely JACKED. It is long, crisp as a broom, yellow as a broom, hard as a broom...gee...alot of broom and straw references come to mind. As you may recall, I had to bleach the hell out of it to remove the gorgeous and extremely life-affirming neon blue that it was, to get a job, which I did not get. So now I am poor and heinous when before I was poor and well...I don't want to sound vain, so I will say happy. but what I wanna say is fantastically blissfully unique. I would sit in the parking lot in the minivan sometimes when Steve would run in to a store and I would think stuff like, "there isn't likely anyone in that whole Target with blue hair." Then I would wonder if there was anyone in my whole city with blue hair. Is that crazy?? I would wonder how many people in all of Michigan had blue hair, I really got into it. I LOVED IT.

So before I divulge my future dreams, here I am, with damaged yellow hair. It is so fried that special deep conditioners won't touch it, they make no diff. I have to put it up into a bun, can't even fake it with ponytails or braids, because there is just this brillo-poof that crinkles and crunches in the breeze and I feel like BadBarbie, like maybe some wierd fake Kmart brand Barbie that you got when you were little from a raffle-Christmas party at your mom's work or something. In a grab-bag marked "Girl", or found in the church nursery. Even real Barbie's hair was shiny and whitish, despite the political implications of her foot size or breast-to-waist ratio, she did have that nice hair...

I still need to try to get a job, and I still need to know that the reason they are not calling me back is because the economy blows or they wanted someone who could work days, not because of my appearance. So I am thinking about dying it brown. Not a chocolate DYEJOB brown, but like a medium, casual, this-could-be-my-real-haircolor kind of a brown. I will also need to cut it a bit. 2 inches most likely. When you run your hands down my hair, it goes soft, soft, soft, soft, burnt to a crisp! So all of that bad part will need to go, losing me months of growing but gaining me a nicer look, I can only hope.

I still adore the rockabilly bangs, but they look sick and terrifying on light hair, like some ghastly 5 year old, and so I have been scooting them over to the side and feeling very very very boring and invisible and lame. I am hoping the brown dyejob will get me back to rockin the bangs, because, with 98% of chicks I see with the same side-swept and overly layered gently frosted hair do's (and of course, the omnipresent empire-waisted maternity shirts grrrrrrrrrrr), I enjoy being as far from that sheep-clone world as possible,

It is aging and just sick to me how everyone looks the same same same lately! On TV, in the town, BLABLABLABLA I could sell these women a little KIT, and they could just POOF have it all in one box.

Here is the Baa-Baa Beauty kit:

Shagg shagg shagg chunks missing like Billy cut off your ponytail in class.

Maternity shirt to give you an imaginary giant belly even if you weigh 100 pounds.

Flipflops so you can look like you shop at the store that is at the campground and you can walk wierd.

Huge huge transvestite sunglasses so you can look like your English teacher did when she went on boat rides with her swinger friends in 1982.***

***these can occasionally "work" when they are paired with an actual cool outfit that your English teacher would never, ever wear on any boat--But no brown tint unless you are SO ironic-hip that you are pretty much Beck or Bjork. Maybe. No, I take it all back. They do not work.

Low-Rise jeans no matter what

When you do not have the bod for this product, why anyone would want to do this to themselves or to the public is just beyond me. How do you sit? How do you breathe? Why o why must we deal with this? You can still have nice boot cut jeans without this scene being involved. Trust me. I'm a thousand times bigger than this girl, and she doesnt even have any stretch marks, and NOBODY is subjected to this when they are around me.

Bright orange tan. I am including faux-tans and tanning booths here. What gives? When you go and spend a day out of doors, you might get an adorable splash of pink across your nose and cheeks, some color on the sunny places, but not and entire corporal dip in carrot-oil whatsoever. I hate this whole-body-orange thing, it is wierd and gross. I have even used the self tanners on my legs because they were literally 9 shades paler than my arms and face (with horrific results) but to think that places like the undersides of my arms, behind the ears, and the entire foot should mysteriously be, well, orange, is apparantly the new thing.

French manicure. It is not french and just looks so 80's and so porno and trashy and Klassie and, well, no. It makes me think of some horrific wedding where lace parasols might come into play and well, no.

___________________________________________________________________

So, now that I have insulted 95% of the suburban babe dreams, let me leave you with some cool fancy makeup girls who I think should replace Kelly Ripa and Carrie Underwood as icons of unattainable gorgeousness. Then I want to take a big break from all this shallow stuff so you all don't think I am this evil superficial terrible girl.

I really like people with clean faces and rosy cheeks and real smiles and bubble gum and chapstick.

Best accessories of all time: High IQ and a guitar.

updates

I am totally used to my blonde hair now. I guess this is a good thing. When I first stepped out of the house with blonde hair I felt as weird as most people would stepping out with, say, BLUE hair :)

but now I feel ok. I had blonde hair, both natural and fake, for most of my life, so I just look like "Joy" again. It is getting really long, which is cool. It is pretty fried from the bleach it took to get the blue out, but ponytails braids and buns help to hide that mostly. I need to cut it but don't want to yet. I think at New Year's time I will get a good haircut. For now, I just deep condition and pull it back, letting it grow and grow and not do anything else. It is resting :)

I have started up with my...dare I write the evil word, diet, again, for the first time since '04, and so far so good. It isnt about self hate or anything negative, just wanting to be healthy. I had eight kidney stones last week and read online it can be from being overweight and really cringed.

The secret goes something like this: Instead of troughs of food, I eat a plate of it. I do not eat Fourth Meal anymore, and I do not drink pop anymore. For me this is a drastic reduction in calories. I drink tons of water and really really do want to exercise, except so far it has been too hot too tired too busy, too something and I have not exercised yet beyond the daily insanity of running a home which never, ever seems to tone anything, haha.

I bought a gel seat for Steve's bike and am going to try riding it today. I want to walk and even run someday but have continued ot be plagued with the mysterious hurt foot/ankle several times a week. Arggg.

More soon!

what is everyone thinking?!

I am in pregnant-lady-alert-overdrive! And it is all due to this hideously unflattering new fad that has been cruelly unleashed on women:

These "baby-doll" tops with the empire waists look exactly like, no, they are, maternity tops. Everyone who is skinny and wearing them, guess what--you look pregnant. Everyone who is heavy and is wearing them, guess what--you really, seriously look pregnant. And to all the mamas who think this is a forgiving and flattering style because it isnt clingy, or because it is long/offers "coverage"---you really, really, really look pregnant. And to top it off, it is in style to have flip-flops and capris---the absolute hallmarks of late pregnancy when you cannot get your foot into a shoe anymore and your thighs are so deathly wrong that you had better cover them things up. Trust me, girls, I have done this four times.

I don't have to tell anyone that I love pregnant women and I think they are beautiful. I also love the idea of cropped and tight shirts coming out of favor, as I am 73 inches tall with a stomach that will never, EVER see the light of day so long as I live---BUT--well, I guess I already explained how I feel about this whole thing...why not long and NOT empire waist? Blousy, billowing fabric starting right under the boobs? I can't believe it, I can't I tell you.

Whats funny and ironic is how I spent four long pregnancies looking, searching the malls stores boutiques and the 'net for one--ONE top long enough or flowy enough to cover my pregnant belly and the weird panel on my maternity pants. It did not exist and I suffered mostly in overalls, even in the heat. Ask steve how many gallons of tears I would cry about this whole thing. Many, is what he will tell you, many. Now this garment is at every single store in the mall, and at regular prices, forget "Tall Maternity"!!!

Sheesh.

I probably sound like Bill Cosby telling kids to pull their damn jeans up or something. But I don't care. Every girl on Earth looks pregnant now, and I am going to get in a car accident looking at them all.

still a dream for now

The band, lead by insolent 32 year old frontwoman, white pigtails flailing, tore up the stage with intense fury and a wall of experimental noise that could only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime journey through time and space. Playing well past the 11pm curfew set for this all-ages festival, this was one show that will go down as a pivotal event in the history of American music. Not since 1991 breathed new life into us all, and 22 year old kids in flannel took Whitney Houston off the top of the charts and deposited her upside down on her head, replaced with gnarly, heart wrenching power chords and a whole new outlook of hope, has an entire scene taken us all over by storm like this, leaving a deep tangible divide between the people who "get it" and the squares who do not.

ow

Do you like how the swelling is going down into my jaw and neck? Do you like how my entire eyes are swelling up?

I like how Vicodin doesn't work anymore and I like that I only have 2 left and I like how the amoxicillin is destroying my insides.

Waiting for the life lesson to hit me this time...I guess brush yer teeth is the lesson. Except that I do.

Sorry for the pity-blog, but this is my life today.

fatty tooth face

My lovely face one day after the surprise/emergency root canal

I always wanted a celebrity mugshot teehee

Next weekend they want to pull one or more wisdom teeth...who knows how sexy I might really look then! :)

toothaches

This weekend was really, really awesome until yesterday at noon. The bad tooth/teeth that I have been avoiding getting taken care of finally won the battle and I spent 24 hours in howling pain, then mercifully found a dentist with holiday hours and had a root canal done and was prescribed antibiotics and vicodins for my broken wisdom tooth. I am suppossed to get it removed next Saturday. Through the power of Steve being home today, I go tto go to the doctor by myself while he was home with the kids.

So I might be away from the computer for a little bit here, but I'll be back soon as my pain and sleepiness and everything are more managed.

jinx jinx jinx

I really either need to shut down the blogs or start treating each entry to an Opposites-Day approach.

Everything I ever write about gets jinxed. I was thinking this even before the dishwasher flooded the floor just as Steve was out the door tonight. I was thinking this even before my pride and joy blue hair went byebye and now I look like a deep-fried lemon chicken wing from 1983. If you ever see any kind of entry entilted "Yippee" or "Im so happy", know in your heart that its a trick.

I am literally afraid to blog about anything I am happy about. Because then it gets a 24 second shot-clock for something bad to happen.

scary scary stuff

: (

no wait--here ill give the new approach a shot--

I hate money! I really want to get into this poverty thing! I hate hair and I hate 50'sfashion! I never want to be in a killer kick ass French indie garage techno band! I want to get much, much fatter! I hate hanging out with friends and I hate rock and roll evenings with Steve! I hate not being sick! My back doesnt hurt, isnt that lame??? I hope gas prices go way, way higher! I didnt like the dishwasher anyways, it was loud!

mew-zeek

Now that records are gone for the most part, and cassettes, too, we miss knowing what side of the album the various tracks were suppossed to be on; but since alot of the music we have been listening to lately was from that era, it is cool to really dig into why the artist put that track there and why. (We is me and Steve and we are listening to MP3s and such...this is what we do most evenings/into the wee hours/wasting the hours gladly that the little ones are asleep/I hope there are listening parties in the afterlife, but I worry/So I gladly skip on sleeping and try to live instead/clock be damned)

So, there is the opening track, track one. This is the one they want you to pop in, and go yeah, ok, sweet, here we go, I love this album.......then the second song is like the debut of their 'new sound' if it isnt a first album...seems like track three and four can often be where the radio single is buried, if applicable, and then you have some sort of meaningful 'last track of the side one' song--which may be a dying or already dead art form. Next to the lable, on purpose. (In recordville, where I still live)

Opening track, side 2. this sets off the whole 'feel' for exactly where this album is going. Where the band sees themselves now. Oftentimes a superjam, unless it is meant to be 'the slow/makeout side of the album. Side 2 is usually cool, more story-telling, sometimes more raw or experimental. Last track, side 2--a big shebang, a Purple Rain, a Diamond Sea, a 7-8 minute behemoth that you can easily skip by simply leaving it out, turning it off. Cheesy, classic, awesome. Sometimes. But sometimes, the trash tracks get buried here, the concept and feel of the album starts to get weaker, or they throw on the random effort by the guy or girl who "doesnt usually write the songs".

So this is what we do late at night. we sit and go "THIS is your opening track? THIS? Who do you think you are???" Its really fun. we have also been watching alot of concert footage and discussing what is up with bands and how they act onstage. What are these bands about, you know--producing recorded song, or jamming together, or creating masterpeices, soundtracks, or partying and entertaining? Some or all of the above?

albums to revisit and think about what was up with all that track placement:

In Utero-Nirvana

Life's Rich Pageant- REM

Fables of the Reconstruction-REM

Bizzare Ride II--the Pharcyde

Rubber Soul- the Beatles

Paranoid- Black Sabbath

Chocolate and Cheese-Ween

minty

It took two full bleach cycles and I was up until 2:45 but here is whats up with it now: Light blonde with some aqua.

damn.

Tonight I have to bleach out my blue hair and try to get a job passing as a regular girl. Comet Burger man was pretty mean when I called back today and said "Naw, we already got someone".

I bought 40 volume developer, the bleach powder, and toner. Like I can afford all this crap. I have to make some money for my family. If times get better I can have fun hair again.

So, tonight, I hope it all comes out.

To explain:

A little more information about this whole me-getting-a-job thingie:

My husband's job started paying him less and less and less, around February. We were initially able to shoulder the "hit" with our tax return, but the slippery slopes of quicksand have only gotten steeper. First it was not paying the utilities--only rent, food, and gas. Then we all got sick, and the 30 dollar co-pays, prescriptions, refills, and endless trips to Rite Aid for more sudafed, kleenex, motrin, tylenol, humidifiers, vicks vaporub, chapsticks, benadryl, claritin, nose sprays, robitussin, mentholated baby rubs, mentholated baby bath, 12 dollar rash creams for the hideous antibiotic-diaper rashes, cough drops...then I started in on Echinacea, Wellness Pills, and expensive acidophilus and other supplements for battles of the yeast that the antibiotics always seem to bring....soon we weren't able to even make the rent, and here is where we still are today. I buy a few groceries and put little 10 bucks here and there in the car and try not to go anywhere.

So.

Obviously things cannot continue in this manner. We need more money and we need it now!

So, seeing as we are not to the point where we are about to abandon homeschooling or any of that, (there is a small but convinced group of people who think it would be best if I put my 2 oldest children in public school, somehow accquire full time daycare for my 3 and 1 year olds before I even receive my first check and got myself a real lady job) either me or Steve needs to work a night and weekend job. The kids will still be homeschooled and raised by their own family, and childcare expenses will still not be an issue.

Now, even though I am up 3-5 times a night with baby Charlie, and Casey comes blasting down my door no later than 6:15am on a good day, and even though I alreadyhave a full time job, thank you very much, I do think that I should be the one to try and take a night position. The idea of getting semi-dolled up at 5pm and knowing I am going to be be-bopping out of here to my hopeful fun and interesting world of The Diner sounds way better than No Daddy Ever Again/single mother nightmare. Which would be my life if Steve was really gone all day and all evening, leaving me with no "break" whatsoever, bumping my hours up to 24 a day instead of about 10 with the just me and the kiddies. Uh-uh. I know better than to think that would be cool at all. I think any glue that is holding us all together would be gone, and in a marriage that runs on tons of love and reciprocity and egalitarian household duties as much as humanly possible, this could spell disaster, frustration, burn-out, resentment and utter and complete exhaustion, which in our lives seems to lead us right back down the path to getting sick again! Argggg! No.

So that's the deal. We are dead meat, kinda waiting for eviction or something, do not know what the hell else to do.

We looked at an adorable house this weekend with a rent payment that is $255 dollars less than we are paying (or not paying!) here. We would love to move there---the kids liked it better than we did, they were ecstatic about moving. (So there goes the theory that it is so sad and mean to shuffle them around) But how to go about it all?

Our lease here is officially not up until August, and if we broke it, I don't see how we could get our enormous deposit money back. But to move we need a deposit for the new place!

I need about 1 to 3 thousand dollars. Thats about what Steve's work has gouged from us out of the blue, and about what we would need to get into the cool new place I found us. It is another 3 bedroom house, with a giant backyard, really cheerful kitchen, attached garage, on the block of this amazing huge forest park with trails and paths and a creek. It is also 2 miles from Steve's LOVELY job, so he could still ride his bike on the days we might need the van. It is a real gem of a find, and the landlord was a cool laid back friendly normal guy.

So. Scary times for us right now, trying to be all positive and excited. Sitting here at 8pm with my eyes all bleary, my shoulders and neck burning from all the housework I did today, lifting, nursing, laundry etc -- on about 4 hours of broken sleep (hey it was Sopranos AND the Survivor finale I stayed up too late) and I think: How in the world could I be at some restaurant right now, be-bopping back and forth and attempting to charm the Harley guys out of their 3 bucks?

But you know, haven't all of us felt really tired around 6, 7, 8 pm and didn't wan't to go out at all, but then we do and we have this big sassy night out and party and socailize 'till 2:30? I'm hoping that whole thing kicks in.

So thats what the job thing is all about. Please wish us luck and don't be afraid to send me ideas, either here or in email. Oh and yes we are going to have a garage sale and try to ebay stuff while we can still afford internet.

Kiss kiss

Off to go watch Heros before dishes time. At least our water isn't shut off. Then I wouldnt be able to wash dishes and clothes and kids and cook all day....hmmmm JUST KIDDING!

Burger Queen

Omigod I just put in an application at a cool place. It is called Comet Burger and it is like a little 50's diner place on a strip of an extremely populated Main Street near us. They are looking for a waitress. I havent done this in 11 years.

Although I am a little afraid to leave the cocoon of not-gainfully-employed-mommyhood, I am also excited. It seems fun and easy and if they get busy, hey, I'll just go as fast as I can without getting flustered. Years of serving my own impatient oftentimes demanding and particular "customers" at home have gotten me some good training for being a rock-n-roll waitress.

I have fantasies that my uniform will involve pink, black, and a cursive J...but just the fact that the guy couldn't have cared less that I came in there with a bright blue high ponytail was tres cool to me. He asked me if I was in school, which could have meant anything but I felt young! WooHoo!

I hope it is cool. I hope I make some money. I hope I get hired. But I must admit, on some nights, just to get out of here with lipstick on and the car all to myself will be......awesome

dork

Billie B sprained her foot. Getting out of a chair.

Why do I have to be such a dork? When will I be normal? How am I going to rollerskate when apparantly I cant be trusted to walk or stand without crippling injury?

What a freak. It pisses me off.

why I am not going to color my hair green after all

I love the blue and I mixed in some purple and I love it.

My eyes are green and purpleish blue helps them look greener more than just matching them would.

At least 75% of my shirts are green I am realizing and then I would look too green.

I don't want to look like a Disease Ridden Sea Monster, I want to look like a Futuristic and/or Magical Atomic Candy Fairy. You know that would make a fantastic battle of the bands or something---DRSM versus FMACF.

I want my hair to kind of look like it would smell awesome, like how Strawberry Shortcake had that one friend Blueberry Muffin*?

Blue fades to light blue.

Green fades to gross.

and the real final reason: I can't get this blue hairdye to come out at all!


*my actual 1980's childhood toy not the new reissued crap

finally

I got two dresses! Real dresses! 50's dresses! They fit me! I am sooo happy!

Billie B.

I am a complete tough guy when it comes to some stuff--actually a lot of stuff--Billie Badass, I guess.
If I get hurt, like something bangs into me or I whack into something, I don't usually care. I'm clumsy sometimes. Like if I fell off my bike in front of people I would jump up and laugh even if I was like pouring blood. I would be glad to be pouring blood because it is lame when it hurts super bad but there is no mark. Plus I miss knee bandaids I think they are awesome with tube socks it looks like you actually are having a summer, you know?
I will light the stove (its old we have to use a lighter) with my hand-- my husband would never do this---he will use this big intricate stick or long wadded up piece of paper. I don't give a crap if I get a tiny bit burned. I unscrew lightbulbs right out of the hot socket. I bite stuff off with my teeth. I use my "eye" rather than any mamby pamby measuring devices, and I will and have and do hop rusty sharp fences. I open beers before I bother to read that it is not screw top. I strum my guitar with the back of my right index nail/cuticle and I prefer to throw stuff across the room such as dirty laundry, mail, loaves of bread (ok not loaves of bread) to try and sink imaginary shots, hoops, dunno--just to score I guess. I DESPISE instructions, directions, recipes, or suggested useage. I think duct tape belongs in any girls purse and I can take pills without a beverage.

I like maritinis--but the way I make them is like this: Some Gin. Some Vodka. Some pop or tonic. Some ice or fruit if times are good. I have been laughed at for years for making this concoction yet it tastes awesome and you will get drunk. Is that a problem? Perhaps I have a different idea of just exactly what it is that a martini is suppossed to do for a chick or a fella but helping to keep sane and sober aint one of em.

I like to nail stuff up with enourmous roofing nails WHAMWHAM right into the walls. I feel certain that kicking is a perfectly acceptable way to get somethings done. Like repairing tables. I like to get filthy and I like to write on myself. I HATE asking for help and I HATE being sick injured helpless needful incapable or really bad at something. I hate slow songs. I dont want a pastry, I want a sub. I dont drink diet pop or light beer. I dont go to Thai restaurants and ask if it is gonna be spicy.

Yes I want to play Street Fighter
Yes I want tickets to the game
Yes I can stay up super really extremely late-life's short ever heard of coffee?
Yes I want a beer
Yes I want some nachos
Yes I can reach that/lift that/get that through the door
Yes I want to do a fire
Yes I want to go camping
Yes I want a tattoo
Yes I want to draw hundreds of rude pictures all day(comic book style)
Yes I want to go to the concert and yes I want to stand up front.
Yes I want to drive
Yes I can totally play that
Yes I will mess up and yes it might suck but it might be awesome and it is worth it to find out
Yes I want to hit the road
Yes I want to do something way way weirder
Yes I would rather laugh than giggle
Yes I would rather scream than whisper
Yes I would rather break shit than keep the peace
Yes I want the squares to not get it
Yes you want to pick me for your team

best sox ever

http://www.skatersocks.com/

So, so awesome.

fresh air

Well its been awhile, huh?

I am no longer sick. It is no longer cold or drizzling or snowing. I am literally on cloud nine, in heaven, all cares are back to their rightful places in the background, major upsets are back to minutae, I can now re-relate to hallmark slogans such as dont sweat the small stuff and stop and smell the roses and enjoy the little things and live for today and bless this mess and....ok ill stop.

Although I do like the idea of fall and winter, the flash imagery of being covered in clothes (haha), cozy times, spicy drinks...the reality is it is messed up to be indoors all the time, to get to the point where crumbs and stains and where is my scotch tape are somehow something you should give one crap about, to just obsess and fret and stagnate, its really jacked.

So now we have opened up our windows, opened up our eyes, opened up our hearts and opened up our minds, as a people, or at least I have. It feels so damn good to have my self back, I feel as if my proper and rightful place as an upright citizen/homo sapien (sapienne?lol) to roam the good Earth has been reestablished and I like it. I am going to sit outside for a long long time tonight past sunset past dark and enjoy it all. Besides---no mosquitos yet :)