Sleep Cycle

DaGoddess @ 23:45

I have a sleep cycle. It’s really pretty cool. It’s sparkly powder blue, streamers in pink and purple from the handlebars, super cushy banana seat, and it has four wheels that all turn very quickly inside my head. And every so often, one of the wheels starts to slow. Which causes the others to slow, too. After all, they figure Barney’s stopping for a reason and they want in on the action. Or inaction, as the case may be.

Around 21:30 every Wednesday, I inevitably end up with Barney (or Joe, or Temo — but never Matilda) stopping for a break. I don’t know why, but that’s what happens. I’m working away on my computer or talking to my son, and next thing you know, I’ve dozed off. When I snap to again, I’ve written things, closed out other things, edited stuff, and who knows what else during the time my eyes closed and my brain’s wheel turners have betrayed me.

Nasty little bastards they are. Except Matilda. She’s the one who wakes me up and pedals super fast to catch up and causes my head and my heart to near ’bout go ‘splodey on everything.

The boys messed with my head tonight and I fell asleep at the computer. I had no idea what I’d been working on or how I got to where I got online (I was apparently updating my virus scanner). I’m hoping I didn’t send out any emails. If I did, please take no offense. I’m sure I meant nothing by “your cat will end up saia chfa kdfjas;;lkfs; asekjhfals w rweij in soup”. And any promises made in the last 3 hours are null and void. Just sayin’.

I’m putting the cycle back in the garage, crawling under my soft, warm blanket, and going to sleep.

If you come by and borrow the cycle, watch your ass. You’ll end up in some strange places, doing interesting things. And I can almost guarantee someone’s coming home with a tattoo, complaining about their ass hurting.

Quick Pics

DaGoddess @ 06:00

As I’m going through folders (making room on the hard drive, and of course, since I have no camera to photograph anything new, I may as well share what I have) I found a couple photographs that made me smile.

Happy Makers

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!

DaGoddess @ 01:00

Boobie-Thon Meter

Thank you to all who have donated money, boobies, time, and PR to this year’s Our goal of $10,000 is clearly within reach. Donations can be made until 11:59pm (Eastern) today and with your help, we WILL reach that magical number.

If you haven’t already done so, stop by and read the stories posted in the Survivors’ Gallery. Any of these women could be your mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, wife, girlfriend, or best friend.

Go…and make a difference.


Pink is Beautiful Handsome!

DaGoddess @ 05:55

src=”http://dagoddess.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/boobiethon468x60-09-1.jpg” alt=”Boobie-Thon Pink” />

I don’t do it on purpose. I mean, I never intentionally set out to buy something pink…when I buy myself something. Which is rare. I mean, I have to break down and buy the occasional t-shirt when it’s hot as another has finally given up and fallen apart in the wash. Still, I don’t go into a store with the idea that my next shirt must be pink. Somehow or another, I usually end up with pink.

During Boobie-Thon 2009 week, I managed to wear pink of some sort every day. I have a couple more days to go and by golly, I’m gonna have enough to see me through. With some to spare.

Back in high school, I wore pink occasionally. I wore green more often though. Sage green. And cobalt blue. Don’t know why, but those were my two favorite colors. What I really liked, however, were guys who wore pink shirts. Izod had some nice polos in pink. I made mention of how sexy I thought “men in pink” were and, sure enough, the next day, half the guys in class showed up in pink shirts. Including the (very hot) teacher. I was in manly pink heaven that day. And they really did look good. Later in the year, and the following year, the same teacher (I had him for several science classes over the years) became the subject of running joke of sorts. We told him there was a fan club for him. Told him we had a secret handshake and everything. And our club shirts were…pink. Finally, during the last couple months of our senior year, my friends and I found him a sleeveless pink t-shirt onto which we had ironed on his initials, along with a play on his last name and the sport he coached. We girls had similar shirts bearing his initials followed by F.C. (for fan club, natch). He laughed and immediately put the shirt on. When I stopped by to say hello the year after I graduated, I’d occasionally catch him still wearing his shirt. Every time, I would remark how handsome he looked in pink, he’d blush, and then we’d laugh.

But really, I love men in pink. Still. It is a sexy color for men whether they know it or not.

So, how about for the final two days of Boobie-Thon y’all don a pale pink shirt in support of breast cancer patients. C’mon. Be bold! I know you can find such a thing over at Target or Walmart or Macy’s. And after October 7 is done, why not wear it once a week during this month just to remind yourself how awesome you are for daring to wear pink and for supporting breast cancer research.

Remember, at least one woman in San Diego will be thinking you’re a major stud for doing so.

P.S. if you’re brave enough, send me a photo of yourself in that pink shirt and I promise to drool over it. Maybe I’ll even create a Hall of Fame for you manly men. Yeah…there’s an idea…

Cancer Sucks

DaGoddess @ 02:00

The other day at our big blues competition finals, we had five awesome bands performing and a big crowd showed up to hear and cheer. Of course, I mentioned to a few of those in attendance. You know me, I’ll talk up a good cause every chance I get.

Talking about breast cancer is difficult for some. Hell, talking about any kind of cancer is. You know why? Because cancer sucks. It’s a thief. It steals your health, it steals your time, it steals from your family, it just takes takes takes takes takes.

I lost my aunt to breast cancer when I was around 5 years old. I remember her, though. I remember her beautiful face, her sweetness, her absolute love for her family, and I can even remember her voice as she read to me when I’d occasionally spend the night at her house. She never got to know she inspired me to become a nurse. She never got to see her sons grow up to become men. She never got to bounce grandbabies on her knee. There were a million things she never got to do because cancer ate away at her body and her life until there was nothing left.

Steve White
It’s not just breast cancer that does this. It’s all cancer. And it was a point driven home yesterday as I watched one of our local shining stars walk into the venue with his lady by his side. Recently diagnosed with a form of throat cancer, he nodded and smiled at friends and well-wishers, writing notes occasionally when he had something he felt needed to be said. At one point, someone asked why he risked coming out during cold and flu season. His response? “To support my friends”. I wanted to cry, but I was in the middle of a huge crowd and had business to handle. I blinked back my tears, took care of what needed to be done, and said a prayer for this amazing man.

As a singer, songwriter, guitarist, he’s been robbed of his voice — his means of making a living — by cancer. And yet, he’s upbeat. His sense of humor is intact And he’s there for his friends, cheering them on with his applause and his presence. It gave me hope, though.

I’ve seen it time and time again, the indomitable spirit of someone seriously ill. It never ceases to amaze me. I’ve seen this in patients of every age, every ethnicity, every walk of life. Their optimism and courage are astounding. But it’s not always enough to keep them alive.

The only way to ensure life is to beat cancer and beat it down for good. That takes research. Research takes money. So donate. Donate to find a cure. Not just for those with cancer, but for their families, for their future.

For Boobie-Thon, there’s just today and tomorrow left to break the $10,000 mark. There’s original artwork by Chris Muir for auction and lots of lovely cleavage on display.

And if you aren’t a fan of the Boobie-Thon, don’t care for my involvement with it, or are opposed to our approach, find another way to help or another worthwhile cause. But don’t just sit there…do something.



DaGoddess @ 04:00

I’m totally renaming Little Dude “Kevin Christopher” after Smith and Chris Muir.

I so *heart* them.

If I could have had a celebrity lovechild, I couldn’t ask for two better candidates. And for those of you who know my son, you know these men are perfect fits for the boy’s personality and interests.

Don’t forget the Boobie-Thon! We only have a couple more days to go, folks. Give the girls a hand like Kevin and Chris have!

Remember When #2 — The Nuts and Bolts of It All

DaGoddess @ 00:21

Each Monday, we’d love to have you join us here and at Toy. We feature a visual prompt that will hopefully stir you to remember something — something grand or something simple and plain — write what you feel. Just let yourself go and rememebr when.

Please link up with Mr. Linky below or at Fractured Toy so we can come visit you!

Nuts and Bolts

There are always all these nuts and bolts holding our lives together. Keeping us from being flung from cars, off bikes, or from falling down from the treehouse. Did/do we pay attention to them? Or were/are we only interested if it meant time helping Dad?

I loved helping my dad with anything and everything when I was a little girl. There was something special about it and it felt like a great big fun secret when we’d run out to the hardware store to buy something, or to the junkyard to see if something else we didn’t necessarily need but might someday come in handy was available.

The hours spent driving around, digging through dirty and greasy-smelling hardware doesn’t really seem all that girly, but I didn’t care. I was spending time with my dad. If I was lucky, our outings included a donut or a milkshake, a stop (that would allow us to linger) to see friends, hot dogs, and usually some little trinket unrelated to the project that was meant solely for me. Maybe it was a rock or a sprocket or a spring or a candybar. It didn’t matter. It was from my dad and it was all about the day we spent together.

One of my favorite memories were of us working on one of my dad’s antique cars. My job was to hand him tools, which meant I needed to know the difference between a flathead and a Phillip’s screwdriver and to know what a hammer, a torque wrench, and a grease gun, etc. And then there came the moment for my favorite job of all: bleeding the breaks. That put me directly in the driver’s seat. Okay, due to my age, it was more like me trying to sit on the seat and reach my legs far enough, but more often than not resulted in me sitting on the floor of the car and pushing pedals. I loved the quick and easy push push push of the beginning of the job. As the air was bled out, though, the resistance increased and I’d have to push harder — puuuush puuuush. Then there’d inevitably come another round of push push push, followed but puuuuuuuush puuuuuush. The whole time, I’d have to listen for my dad’s voice so I would know what was coming up next.

There were days when we got very little done and other days when it seemed like we’d just built an entire car from the ground up. The memory allows what the memory allows.

This was a bit of a ritual with my dad, though when we moved to California, we definitely spent less time together in the garage. Still, when the opportunity arose, I was there because it was “our time” and I didn’t want to give that up. I’d even fight my little sister for the easy, meaningless jobs just to hang out.

Of course, it wasn’t always fun and games. There was an incident. Whilst waiting for my dad to come out and get to work, I did the one thing I was told never to do: I pushed the button that started the car. (Yes, a button starter.) The car started and I jumped! My dad came running out of the house, knowing what I’d done and praying I hadn’t hurt myself or anything around me (the car, mostly). I lied, I cried, I wanted to die. In the end, I got a mild grumbly lecture on safety and listening to my parents and then what passed as a hug.

Life moves quickly as you start growing up, though, and time for working on cars with my dad fell by the wayside as my world began to include things like softball and friends, more friends, and later with trouble. To be fair, my dad was busy trying to keep food on the table and his schedule became crazier over the years.

I miss those days. I miss those opportunities to spend time with my dad, to learn basic car repair, and to be the princess of the garage. It was OUR time and it was special. I never want to forget it either. These days, every nut and bolt and air filter and bottle of oil reminds me of a simpler time, a happier time.

Remember When


Taking Aim

DaGoddess @ 04:00

For those who don’t get all tingly from or maybe in addition to the tinglies they get, here’s a different kind of fun:

Barrel shot

Barrel shot 2

Ready for a close up

Close up bits

Up close and personal


Chris Muir Loves Boobies!

DaGoddess @ 11:09

Chris was kind enough to offer up signed 8x10s of Jan and Sam coyly displaying their cleavage for Boobie-Thon. The auction is live and the cause is good. This is a distinctly rare opportunity to own these special, one-of-a-kind works of art. Please check out Mr. Muir’s beautiful work and bid, bid, BID!

Happy Birthday, Little Dude!

DaGoddess @ 03:19

Teenager: n. A person between the ages of 13 and 19; an adolescent; a young person created for the sole purpose of creating gray hair and worry lines.

My boy is an official teenager today. The big 1-3. Sigh.

I got pretty lucky in the kid department. Both my children are wonderfully silly, sly, and downright adorable.

My son really changed my idea of what little boys were and are all about. I always thought a boy would be rough and tumble, dragons and dirt. He can be those things, but he’s also tender and kind, funny and very thoughtful. In short, he’s a blessing.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, however, I do believe there will be more laughter than there will be tears. At least, I hope so. I’ll keep praying for him to grow strong and stay true to the beautiful heart he has.

Now, if only we can skip the dating part…

He’s a goofy little coconut, but he’s my goofy little coconut.

Happy birthday, kiddo! You done made me proud.


Crazy Day

DaGoddess @ 22:14

While I was taking a very quick nap this morning (you have no idea just how quick), I had a dream that the computer started acting up. Wavy lines, screen blanking out, basically failing all the way around. I woke up startled and unsettled. Obviously, that’s the LAST thing I’d need going on right about now.

Got up, had to check email and do a little Mapquesting for a couple OpLove photo deliveries. In the middle of an email, the computer screen went green, then squiggly lines, pixelated this and thats, and froze. I almost threw up. So, I shut the computer down and restarted it, praying that all would be well. It was.

It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened, but with the camera ordeal and having just dreamed about it, it freaked me out.

Finally, it was time to go get LD from school. It was a short day (conferences all this week) and the elementary school next to the middle school was getting out right as I drove up. It took forever to get in the parking lot. It was stressful as could be, watching the gas gauge blink “E” at me and the car stalled repeatedly. Then, as I waited for LD to be retrieved (interesting system for the after school program), everything seem to move slower and slower and slower. They couldn’t find him. Then they did. Then I had to wait. Then…aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh! Finally, there he was. My little cheeky monkey was ready to go.

Barely made it to the gas station. Gassed up, headed out to P.T., and I was regaled with “Don’t Stop Believing”. Really.

During P.T., LD assembled a photo album for me. He took a stack of 50+ photos, created a story, and put the whole thing together. Did a damn fine job of it, too.

Then it was off to the bank, the store (birthday cake), and the nursing home to see my mom. We sugared out, opened gifts, played a card game or three, and then had to high-tail it out of there to make photo deliveries. Traffic from the air show wasn’t too bad on the way down, but on the way back? Crazy, man. Of course, there was still a lingering sugar high and the non-stop stream of songs from LD. Commercials, 70s and 80s rock tunes, cartoon songs… At one point, I felt bad doing it but I had to ask him to stop. My head was pounding and I simply couldn’t take any more.

Our last stop was at my favorite clients’ house. We knocked on the door and I could hear little boyfriend calling my name. He’s talking now, although he totally clammed up as soon as he saw me. He did, however, sit on my lap for a bit. What a cutie! Mom wanted to schedule another session with me, but since I don’t know what will happen with the camera, I had to tell her we’d have to wait and see.

By the time we got home, it was five hours after I’d picked my son up from school. It felt like 10, though. Now, it’s just hanging out and watching TV. Tomorrow? I think the morning will be a lot of the same. The afternoon and early evening are going to be full of activity, though. I think I may try to sleep in as long as possible. I probably won’t have the chance to do so again for a few days.

Blog World Expo Special Announcement

DaGoddess @ 08:20

Got this from my friend Wolf and wanted to share it with you. If you are military and want to go to Blog World Expo, check it out.

I’m putting together the milblog track for this year’s Blog World and New Media Expo and Rick Calvert, founder and head of Blog World, has both challenged me to get 200 people to attend the track, and offered a free track membership to current and former members of the Armed Services. Full details are Blackfive. Please help spread the word to those in our Armed Forces.

It’s a great deal and there’s a lot going on during the big Blog World gathering. Go go go! And Little Dude says, “go already!” (He’s mad because he’s too young to attend.)

Rendezvous Details

DaGoddess @ 04:00

A little change of pace for you. I find some interesting stuff when I’m out and about.

Don’t forget about the though! (Yes, better parts await you over there.)


I'd rather

I'm a fan

Arm and a leg and then some


Send Us Your Boobies!

DaGoddess @ 10:27

We need boobies, people! Send ‘em in! Covered, bare, big, little, in between, male, female…doesn’t matter… them in!

I finished my first editing shift and you know what? I should have had more to edit. We need breasts, people! Lots and lots of ’em!

And don’t forget to donate. If you donate more than $50, you get the Secret Squirrel password to the bare boobies.

Let the Boobie-Thon Begin!

DaGoddess @ 04:00

The is officially underway!

Give it up for the boobies, friends. You know you love ’em. There are going to be lots of lovely breasts put on display for you, so show your appreciation by donating.

And as an extra bonus, here’s a toonlet from Laurie over at Foolery.

Reminder: Photos are being sold to help raise money for Boobie-Thon.

Thanks to Leslie at Get on the Bus for getting the ball rolling and buying the first set of Pretty in Pink photographs.