It’s that time of year again. But, please, hold your applause until the very end. Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office deputies could shoot more people by the time I finish writing this post.
January: I totally kick ass in court! (Sadly, Mr. Dumas is dragging me back in January 2010) However, I do feel like I lose big in the White House. I’ll proudly admit that I voted for McCain/Palin because, while I like Barack well enough, I strongly believe our Commander in Chief should have some military experience. Another big win for me was finding my personal pilot in Captain Sully! I have a sickeningly phobic reaction at the thought of even getting into an airplane and the thought of it leaving the ground makes me feel…well, I dunno. I just sort of tend to black out. The good news in January is that I don’t end up in a river after I meet that creepy guy named Dole in Brunswick. Captain Sully would’ve rescued me. Maybe. Eh, probably not. Sadly, my grandmother passes away while my brother is visiting. He’s the same brother who was visiting when my other grandmother passed away in October of 2008. He’s not cursed, though, because he isn’t visiting when my house gets sprayed with shotgun shells. Or maybe I have that backwards…
February: Not even a full two weeks into the month and JSO shoots suspect #5. President Obama promises me money – it isn’t anything like what the Bank of America dudes are getting, but I’ll take whatever pennies he’s willing to shove into my cupped and begging hands. This month seems a little uneventful, though, as proven by my own personal 2009 wall calendar that screams out (with much red-inked importance!) that Elle visits the dentist twice. Nothin’ to see here, folks. Move along…
March: Does anything exciting happen during the cold months? Nope, not really. Unless you count President Obama comparing his bowling scores to those from the Special Olympics team. On late-night TV. Dumbass. There is a rather aggressive reaction by the American public when we learn just how our taxpayer-funded bank bailout is really being divvied up. And you thought your refund goodies were a bonus! It’s around this time that I publicly acknowledge on my blog how much I ******g hate my job and vow to do something about it. So, because I’m about 34% insane, I decide to go back to school and look into a useful Bachelor’s program, because working on my first degree with a full-time job and full-time mom duties didn’t make me apeshit crazy enough. My family now has only 9 months to prepare for spring semester 2010…
April: I can’t get my hands on any Purell for the office and it’s really starting to piss me off. H1N1, I just call it Piggy Flu or Hiney Flu, makes everyone absolutely batty and all of a sudden people worry about hand washing. Whatever. Nobody gave a crap about it before and I’m sure 99.9% of men still don’t wash up after touching their no-no place in the bathroom. But I brave the public and immerse myself in a crowd of a few thousand to watch Ben Folds git jiggy wit his piano. It is badass. Even better is his opening band, Jukebox the Ghost. Immediately after the show, I buy a CD and each band member signs it, except it gets hijacked by my then-7-year-old daughter. I haven’t seen this CD since May, but at least my kid isn’t listening to Hannah Montana.
May: DeAnna and Delilah visit us but I sure wish it was under better circumstances. Elle and I later visit them in York, South Carolina, where we also stop overnight at my brother’s new place in Rock Hill. It is here in the apartment complex’s pool that Elle decides to give swimming a good college try. Or even a good elementary try. She fails. Miserably. One the way home, we stop off in Pooler, Georgia, to visit the Mighty 8th Air Force Museum on Memorial Day. My grandfather was part of this and I recommend it to everyone! I can’t be more proud of Elle when she very carefully and respectfully places a small American flag near a veteran’s memorial. Well, that's not entirely true – I am extremely proud of her when she participates in her gymnastics club’s annual Flip Fest, konks her head on the uneven bars, and earns the nickname “Bar Girl”. I hope this name doesn’t follow her into her high school years…
June: On the 2nd day of the month, JSO shoots a suspect. On the 12th day of the month, JSO shoots another suspect. I lose count. Anyway, Jacksonville is hit by a MONSTER KILLER WATERSPOUT!! Just kidding, but they talk about it on the news for like five straight days and you think it takes out half of downtown or something. JSO should’ve shot it. I celebrate Father’s Day by patting myself on the back because not only am I mom, I am dad. The girl at Cold Stone Creamery puts me on hold for a good 8 minutes while I have an allergic reaction to some ingredient but instead of insisting the doctor feed me allergy pills, I beg for Yaz. It’s been a happier household ever since! Unfortunately, my 1-year Quit Anniversary is overshadowed by Farrah Fawcett’s death, which is overshadowed by Michael Jackson’s death, which is overshadowed by disbelief over Michael Jackson’s death, which is overshadowed by…oh, nevermind.
July: I drive to Savannah to meet some friends for the weekend and we decide to make another long drive to Asheville the following weekend as well. That’s a lot of driving. I do not, however, blog about my Asheville experience because, well…I couldn’t get the hell out of there quickly enough! Asheville is not the Hell of Brunswick, so I’ll give Asheville another try but I have yet to recover from Round One. Anyway, I return home eager for hurricane season, only to be disappointed months later. You’re welcome, New England.
August: I ship my daughter off to South Florida for an entire week and sit around wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do by myself for an entire week. By the time I figure it out, it’s time to go pick her up and bring her home to a redecorated bedroom and half-dead fish. At least she finally learns how to swim while she is in Fort Myers! Ted Kennedy passes away, Elle ends up hating the Edison House tour in Fort Myers, and JSO shoots another suspect. I’m beginning to detect a problem here. School starts back up again for the kid (hallelujah!) and my child care bills go waaaay down!
September: Oh my word – she’s a Girl Scout! Elle becomes a Brownie and I’m suddenly bombarded by cookie requests. Hold your fur, people. I’ll let you know when it’s cookie order day. One of my directors at work involves me in a very sexually explicit conversation about bunnies (and I had no idea!), but I will never look at her the same way again. I slam the door in the face of a would-be Senator and I FEEL NO SHAME…well, months later, at least. I did feel bad for a while, though. Art Graham is a huge supporter of JSO, our lovely police organization that manages to shoot yet another couple of suspects throughout the month of September. Maybe government-run healthcare will work for them.
October: IT’S MAH BIRTHDAY!! Guess who gets a big present on mah birthday? Obama – he’s get a damn Nobel Peace Prize! I got…a supercool insulated lunch bag. Betches!!! It’s Elle’s birthday, too. She gets earrings. That’s more bling than your stupid prize, Barack. Anyway, I survive a terribly violent and bloody cat attack and a painful yoga session with Rodney Yee, who’s been shelved since mid-October on account of me being lazy. I end up going camping with the Girl Scouts and freeze my ass off. However, with the upcoming holiday season, there is no concern about my ass not coming back.
November: I spend an entire day breathing the same recycled air as my black, married, political boyfriend – Colin Powell (squee!!!). I spend another entire week recovering from some freaky ass quasi-cold/flu (not Hiney!) and somehow manage to teach a few little Girl Scouts how to rollerskate. For FOUR FREAKIN’ HOURS. The bad germs aren’t finished with us yet. While we drive to Rock Hill, South Carolina, on Thanksgiving morning, Elle complains of a tummy ache. I should have known as soon as we hit Brunswick that the demons within the city limits would unleash themselves on us. Elle hurls all the way through Brunswick and all the way back home. Thanksgiving officially SUCKS. Wouldn’t you say so, Tiger Woods?
December: I think Tiger’s Christmas is gonna suck, too. Mine is great! I’m officially a full-time college student once again and I haven’t been shot by JSO. The kid develops a mysterious case of hives (which disappears just as mysteriously), I manage to buy four Christmas gifts for Elle while she stands right next to me, and I don’t know anyone who personally thinks putting explosives in their underpants is a good idea. However, I don’t even think flying is a good idea. Or government-run healthcare, for that matter. And, for the record, my ass came back. Mmm…cookies, cakes, pie!
JSO police shootings count as of 12/30/09: 15
HAPPY NEW YEAR!