An internet crush is when you run across someone online that is so brilliantly creative, amazing and speaks to you in a way that no other internet person has spoken to you before; kind of like that first hot exchange student in high school but this is in a more cerebral way. At least that is how an internet crush works for me, your mileage may vary.

So now that I have that out of the way, let me tell you why I have an internet crush on this poor unaware man. He takes snippets of some of the greatest scientific minds of our time speaking and he then remixes them, sets them to music and develops some amazing and haunting tunes. He’s my hero. His website Symphony of Science has all the songs available for download, most for free. The only exception is “Glorious Dawn” which is now a 99 cent iTunes download. But you can also download the videos for free as well. You can also get “Glorious Dawn” in 7 inch vinyl from his site.

If you go over and check out his site, don’t tell him I have a crush on him. It would get all awkward and stuff.

For the uninitiated the tag line does not lie, it is the strongest visual birth control on the market today. If you don’t want to breed now or ever, these pictures will convince you to wrap that thing up tight. Especially when you view those special “painting” pictures.

This site almost makes me wish I had documented some of the amazing spewage the boy produced in his toddler years. We could have been internet famous!

P.S. Since I’ve posted this it has been used to traumatize at least one teenage boy, I could hear his cries of disgust over the phone. This is almost as effective as the long dead but still amazing sickwillie.com.

A lot has changed since I lost bunnymuffin.com; some nasty and hurtful but most of the changes have been in a positive, forward motion.

The boy and I are great, I’m pretty lucky to have this guy in my life. He and his friends are awesome and my yard looks amazing today thanks to them volunteering to help me whip it back into shape. To thank them I’m baking homemade Red Velvet Cupcakes from a recipe out of the 1952 Modern Family Cookbook. I <3 me some antique cookbooks.

Chris and I are cooking up some mischief of our own but we’ll announce that soon enough.

Well hell.  I guess a month by month year in review is the easiest way to do this, so here goes!

January- I don’t really remember January other than nasty weather. 

February- The month was going very well at first, classes were going gangbusters and The Boy was starting homeschooling and doing well. Then on the 19^th Juli called to tell us The Boy’s dad was in Bremerton in a coma.  We raced across the sound via ferry and found him in ICU.  The Boy and I sat with John all night until it was time to go and pick Juli up from the airport.  On the way to the ferry the car died forever, we had enough time to rent a car and race to the airport. 

We found Juli and ran back to the ferry to find that the evening commute had begun and we had to wait an hour for the next ferry.  Once we reached the hospital we found out that John had died while we were on the ferry. He was 45 and the official cause of death was cirrhosis and alcoholic hepatitis.  The rest of February was spent dealing with the fallout of John’s death.

March- I spent much of March helping The Boy deal with his father’s death.  I had to drop some classes and I had one instructor let me finish his class from home.  We walked everywhere and bought a granny cart for groceries.  I still managed to get through the quarter with full credits and an acceptable enough GPA for the financial aid board.

April- I got a call from my Aunt Johnnie to tell me that my Uncle Jon had a heart attack and died at home.  He was 44 and ran everyday of his life.  Jon was a great guy and one of the kindest most devoted daddies I’ve known.  There is no moral to his story, he was young and healthy, loved life and his family, but there was a congenital heart defect that ran in his family that he had no clue about, and then it was too late. 

May- On the 2^nd I finally had my knee surgery, hurt like heck.  I have clearance to push it as far as I feel comfortable since I can’t damage it anymore.  Whee!!!  I’m still not 100% but getting better. 

Because of the recent deaths and the surgery I reduced my schedule to half time and got a lecture from financial aid, they will be terminating me and I will have to appeal and I will have to beg and plead to finish my last quarter at Edmonds.  But summer will be my last quarter and I will be able to transfer for fall I believe.  

Doylie graduated from Windward with Honors and Nate graduates from Phoenix University the 23^rd of June! Wow these men are awesome.  Christine and I will be graduating without ceremonies this summer; I think there should be a tequila graduation ceremony somewhere in the near future!

I finally financed my first car and I’m more than a little scared of the whole process.  I have always paid as I could afford except for school, this loan for a car thing is weird.     

There!   It’s been one hella year so far, thank God for Nate, Chris and Doyle or I would have taken my kid and kittens into the depths of the jungle to live out the rest of our lives swinging from trees and wearing coconut fiber panties. 

June looks to be a lot more promising, I have a sweet ride, I have an internship with the Attorney General’s office, I have classes that interest me for summer and Dakota will be staying with us for a week. I’ll try and be more with it as far as blogging, promise.

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In no particular order:

I finished another quarter of school and finished it well I might add!

My car is dying, a rod or wrist pin is going out and I’m told to drive it until it dies. This causes me major pain and drama.  I only need six months of school before I have that nifty degree!  So if you are more than one town away, I’m probably not going to make it to your amazing, people will be talking about it for eons Christmas party. 

Because of the death of my car I had to give up my dream of being a Borders bookseller for the holidays.  No way I can be reliable with that heap, so I won’t be there to deal with your Black Friday drama or have little old ladies farting in my face anymore. Sob.

But I have things to keep me busy, thanks to some dung heap I now get 1000’s of bounced emails a day.  Because my domain has been spoofed!  I know what you’re thinking…”Lucky Girl, how can I get my domain spoofed?” Well I can’t tell you how to gain all that unwanted attention sorry. 

I also have signed up to be a ChaCha.com guide.  I finished my training today and I’m off to a rip roaring snooze.  So if you are reading this, be a pal and use guided ChaCha.com searches.  It might take you longer than google, but think of it as charity.  Most of the guides are college students and it’s not like you are paying for the service.

The big time sucker has been the huge hole in my living room wall.  During the wind storm that was bigger than the Inauguration Day storm of “93″ (I feel bad for our weather people, what the heck are they going to call this one?) the wind popped out our picture window.  I spent all night on the couch waiting for the after hours repair guy to return my call.  After about 14 hours, I called the office when they opened.  I have the prettiest piece of plywood over the hole right now.  They have to order my glass. I don’t know when I’ll see the light of day again.

So it’s October 30th and I’m frantically trying to finish a paper that isn’t going as well as I’d like and I should have been done with last week when I started it. The boy just set off for bed 20 minutes before and Oprah is giving people the chance to do charity work with someone else’s money. 

 I hear knocking at the back of the house and I’m a little peeved that the boy is messing around instead of sleeping, but I grumble to myself and ignore it. 

The knocking gets louder.  What the heck?  I walk into the living room heading for the bedroom and I hear it again, but this time it’s on a window.

“Who is it?” I bellow in an o so feminine voice, no answer. 

Sonny!  That shit came up here without calling and he’s playing a prank on me. That’s it!  The pounding gets louder, it sounds like it’s on my office window but I can’t see anyone on the other side. 

“WHO IS IT?!”  Again there’s no answer, but the boy comes out of his bedroom eyes wide and frightened.  Again we hear knocking, this time at the front door! 

“WHO’S THERE?!”  I’m really angry and scared now, if it is someone meaning to do harm I’m going to get them first.  There’s no answer, I demand an answer one last time as I look around for the phone and I hear it.

“Christine”

“Christine (landlady’s last name)?

She answers yes in a wobbly voice and I fling open the door to find my soon to be 70 year old landlady shivering on my porch at 9:30 pm in nothing more than pants, a t-shirt, a summer weight house frock and slippers. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I try to control the twitch in my left eye from the adrenaline rush shooting through my body. 

She’s panicking and can hardly get the words out, “I locked myself out and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Oh! let me grab a flashlight and see what we can do.  Boy go back to bed and don’t worry.”  I walk through the gate connecting our yards and open the slider to her back porch sticking my foot through first to keep her cat inside. 

This was my first meeting with her very large cat Buttons and Buttons didn’t like my uppity attitude.  It was instant dislike on his part and it hurt my feelings. He growled and hissed at me the entire time I was trying to get her door open. 

Thankfully her porch was enclosed and warm, but the locked door was the storm door, so no chance anyone else had a key to the thing.  I tried the window at the bottm first but the glass wouldn’t slide up.  I stepped back and looked the door over.

“I bet if I get a screwdriver and take the frame off, I can get to the latch.”  So I walked back across the frost to my house for tools to get the job done and feline greenies to suck up to the angry cat.  Back on the porch I unscrewed the storm door frame and opened a small gap that the screwdriver couldn’t fit through all the while the cat is still growling in the background.  (This cat is big and if he wanted to, he could take me.)

“Hmm, I need a butter knife.”  Back out into the cold and to my house to get the wonder tool of the ages (The butter knife and the high heeled shoe are a must for any tool box.) and trudge back to the porch of large hissing gato. 

I try the butter knife in the gap I made by removing the frame, but I can’t quite catch the little latch that locks it into place.  I press my face against the glass trying to figure out exacty where that latch is and look down at the bottom of the door again.  On a whim I slide the butter knife along the bottom edge and the window lifts.  I unlatch the door, replace the frame and reassure her that it was quite alright to come get me when she got locked out and walk home to finish the paper in what little time is left. 

And that dear teacher is why my paper is incomplete and my hands are shaking and I’m not even sure I care right now.  Because I got owned by a little old lady who was too frightened to realize that she scared the living bejeezus out of me the night before Halloween.Š

I thought I’d have more time to write being out of school, silly me. 

To celebrate my awesome grades Former something or other took me to Vancouver, BC to eat at the Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts and wander the city.  If you ever get up that way on the weekend, you HAVE to go for Saturday brunch at the school.  Make sure you leave your calorie guilt at home and pace yourself.  The food is rich, plentiful and oh so divine. 

After brunch we wandered Stanley Park and Granville Island for the rest of the day.

On the way home Former something or other decided to go through Blaine, thinking it would be an easier crossing.  Well it would have been quicker if it wasn’t for the que jumpers.  We sat for 40 minutes while people raced down a closed lane and then jumped the line, it was frustrating as hell.  But that wasn’t the worst of our problems.

After getting up to the gate (finally) Former something or other handed over our ID and told the guy how happy we were to see him.  He smiled and handed Former something or other’s ID back.  He looks at the white girl and frowns, “Maam, (Maam!!!) this isn’t going to work, it’s a photocopy of a birth certificate.”

“Yes, sir it’s pretty old it’s all I have left.”

“It isn’t going to do.”  At this point I start digging through my wallet thinking that surely one of the many cards with my picture and name will work for that ever so needed second piece of ID. “Who was the first president of the United States?”

“What?”

“Who was the first president of the United States?”

“George Washington”  I’m not liking where this is going, WTF?

“Very good, who wrote the Declaration of Independence?” WTF! WTF! WTF!

“John Hancock? Benjamin Franklin? I can’t remember.”  I’m getting seriously rattled now and Former something or other decides to help.

“Thomas Jefferson”

“Sir, I was asking her. You’ve already proved your citizenship.” SHIT!  You’ve got to be kidding last time they racially profiled the brown guy and now he’s being asked not to help me answer grade school history questions?  This isn’t going well.  crap.

“Who was the third president? He’s on the nickel.”

“Thomas Jefferson”  Okay guy, you’ve humbled me.  I get it, you have all the power and I missed the question.  You win, you are the smartest in the group. Can we go now?

“Is the United States a republic or a democracy? Now remember your Pledge of Allegiance.”

“To the Republic for which we stand…” Oh god, is this guy toying with me now? This so sucks ass. 

“Good job.”  He then turns and starts punching information into the computer and continues to question me through the sound damping glass.

” ********* president?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Who is the current vice president?”

” Cheney.”

“Very good.”  At this point he finally hands back my driver’s license and tells us that pretty soon we will need passports to go back and forth between the US and Canada.  Former something or other asks him about the deadlines and then he reaches into my bag and pulls out the flyer from the PICA and starts asking him if he’s ever been and telling him how wonderful it is and how this guy should take his wife up there.  !!!!!!!!!! Shut up and go. Go! Go! Go! Before this dude changes his mind and I can’t get home. 

Former something or other is now teasing me every chance he gets about almost having to leave me in Canada.  He thinks its the funniest thing ever.  I’ll get him back though, he’s still brown with a foreign name.  That means he’ll be profiled again and I won’t be all indignant and railing at the system next time.Š

 I have a month off to clean from top to bottom, maybe do the garage sale thing and what have you.  Mike is thrilled with the prospect of killer cleaning sessions and getting rid of junk. 

But it’s time to get rid of the all the spewage around here and streamline my stuff.Š

Second of all, I need to correct some of my harshness towards Loretta, Dr. Chothia’s receptionist.  I had a follow up appointment last Thursday with the good Dr. and decided that I wasn’t going to let anyone rude me to death so I was going to treat the receptionist like she hadn’t jumped down my throat on our first meeting.  Why? Because even if I whine to my friends and family about someone’s attitude, I’ll still treat them as though they simply had a bad day.  It sounds like more Ang Pollyanna Fricking sunshine crap, but I suggest you all try it.  It works.

Back to Loretta, at the end of the follow up appointment I had to wait for her to finish on the phone before she could check me out and she thanked me for waiting.  No big deal, it’s her job.  I asked for the best way back to I-5 and told her about the half hour it took me to find it the week before.  She didn’t remember me.  Then we determined that the day I was there was the day her father had died. 

SEE?  My theory works.  That poor woman was having one of the worst days of her life when I walked into her office that first time.  Her poor dad suffered a long and painful battle with four cancers and she really shouldn’t have been at work that day.  I gave her my condolences and we talked about her dad, he was her adoptive father.  Even though he was raised in an atmosphere of racism, her German-Irish dad adopted three little Hispanic kids and learned a lot about himself in the process. 

He was a late in life author, he wrote three books but only the first one was published before he died.  It’s a Juvenile/ Young Adult title; Building Paper Bridges by E. Anthony Seiler.  I’m planning on reading it when I have time for non-school books.

I’m glad I took the time to know Loretta and give her a chance to share stories of her dad with me.  She really is a warm person and if you ever need to have any teeth pulled I whole heartedly recommend Dr. Hashim Chothia and his staff. 

Now stuff and things:

School is busy and ugly and over in two weeks.  Don’t expect to see much of me until after the 18th. 

The boy has discovered photography and has taken to it like a duckling to water.  He actually mingled with strangers and took pictures without shutting down.  Now all I have to do is get him his own camera and figure out how to save on all the developing.

Chris: I noticed the fuggered up stuff too and no I’m not dinging anyone on creatively created words.  If I did that I wouldn’t have such wonderful verbage such as fucktard and fugly to work with would I? 

Nate: You my dear are as cold and cruel as the woman that claims to have birthed me.  If is wasn’t for our hot and heavy past I’d probably dump you, but you are just too damn good looking and you breed beautiful children. (Note: this is a joke and in no way suggests any breeding between Mr. Sarcasm and the Bunnymuffin.)

Bunnymuffin out.

Dr. Hasim Chothia did the honors of ripping, cracking and yanking those pesky teeth.  A very nice man despite being a dentist. I don’t hate dentists, I just hate dentistry.  Why the hell are they still using those nasty ass jarring drill in this century?

He has a multi-national office; a sweet African boy and a very quiet Indian boy were both in training and he had a nice Russian guy working in the office with him.  The only unpleasant person in the office was the receptionist from hell.  She was trying to convince me that I wouldn’t get any pain meds, that aspirin would be all I needed.  Evil bitch.  I don’t think she likes her job. 

I’m sore, whiny and pitiful just ask me.  But I do have the boy helping me and I have found some things that help.  Sucking on a wet tea bag helps with the bleeding and ginger tea helps with the nausea.

All I need to do now is figure out how to convince Mom that my being in pain is not entertainment.  Evil bitch!