False Imprisonment (1558-1597)

I’m feeling very random today, and wordy. So is Zeb. He’s doing weird things to the dog.

My neighbor called to ask me if I had a bolo tie she could borrow. I was like, “You’re kidding, right? You want to know if I have a bolo tie? How about 200?” Zeb has an enormous collection of bolo ties because his father had an enormous collection and when he died Zeb brought them home. Now we have them. So yes, I have a bolo tie she can borrow.

I worship this woman from afar. When my kids are bickering at maximum volume, her children are playing violin/guitar duets on their front porch. Her house is always calm and organized and I have never heard her raise her voice. Ever. I’m not being bitchy here, I think she’s great and I wish that my house/temperament was more like hers. She’s a soft-spoken and gentle person. I’m, um, spirited.

I invited her to come over and pick a tie out and then freaked out a little when I realized that would be in 30 seconds. The house, as usual, is trashed. I’m actually okay with how trashed it is because it is truly a sign of progress. Zeb, Cato and Minion (our other employee) have been kicking ass at eBay lately and if they keep it up, my soon-to-be office sanctuary will be ready for me to move into within a few months. But this means that there are bags of clothes everywhere, either to be shipped, to be stored, or to be processed for sale. Garbage bags, grocery bags, shipping bags. They are everywhere. Again, this is okay but having my perfect neighbor come over … Viv Shaming.

I need to get over being so worried about what other people think. Is it really a surprise that our house is as chaotic inside as it is outside? Is a perfectly tidy house a prerequisite for liking me? You’d think I’d have gotten over this since I blog about it every day.

Where the hell does this come from? I’ll tell you.

My ex had some friends that weren’t very nice to me. The wife didn’t like me at all and one day she paid me the high compliment of, “What I admire about you is how clean your house is.” Thanks … I think. My worth was determined by the cleanliness of my house, like it’s the 50s or something. I got back at them a few years later. We were at a pub and I was well into my second G&T when she said, “We haven’t seen you in a while, where have you been?” I was blotto by then and blurted out, “Oh, didn’t you know? I DON’T LIKE YOU!”

Oh my God it felt so good. Since then she’s been much nicer to me and I actually like her now. She was even nice to me after the divorce, probably because it meant she didn’t have to see me anymore. Ahhhh, truth!

Enough of that, here’s my stuff for the day.

IMG_1495I’m pulling stuff off the porch (on the floor). We have a nice house and two very nice vacation rentals, they are pristine inside. The problem is when a renter approaches the house he might think he’s pulled up to the Clampett’s place. I worry that our house is akin to Indian medical tourism. The facilities are great but half of the “tourists” freak out and go home because of the shit they see on the cab ride over. So I’m trying to clean it up.


This is so cute. Footage of Zeb as a child was in a DVD about children’s handweaving. There was a darling typewritten autobiography, too. I scanned the documents and put the DVD on my drive.


A pinwheel that has been on my porch for a couple years. Trash.


More shit from the porch. These are all dog bowls Zeb accrued BEFORE WE HAD A DOG and are in addition to the bowl I have in the car, the two in the house and the one on the porch. FREE.


A failed project. This is a porcelain lamp I built in class. Each side features a night creature (owl, cat, fox, luna moth). The celadon glaze obscured the under stain too much, and some ran into the holes. The whole thing is clunky and heavy.


Nifty hole for the light fixture to mount to. My instructor indelicately pointed out the, well, indelicacy of the piece by saying, “Whoa, that looks like something you could stop the door with.” Yah. Thanks. FREE.


One more view, for posteriority. Really, you can have it.


More shit on the porch. FREE.


The blue water bottle looks like it’s been through a war (recycle) and the other one is a thorn in my side. RECYCLE.

I’ve run the Title9 9K every year since Testy was born. They had a wonderful tradition of handing out a necklace at the finish line, it’s the best keepsake ever. Small, compact, meaningful. Then last year they handed out this stupid, fucking water bottle. Ironically, the sticker on it boasted “Click and it’s Closed!” unless it isn’t, in which case it leaks all over the place. I will likely keep those necklaces forever, this thing however is RECYCLED.




This bucket used to hold Scrote’s toys when he was a baby. A friend (and experienced mom) looked at it with amusement and said, “Enjoy the days when all his toys fit in there.” I looked at her blankly, having no idea what she was talking about. FREE.

IMG_1503These tiny toys went in the bucket. It’s hard to let these go, they were from such a sweet time. DONATE.
IMG_1502 I went all the way and did two more junk drawers in the kitchen. They’ve only been established for a year so there was less crap to purge. I’ll call it 20 items.


Lucky boot-cut jeans that don’t fit quite right. $10. You can come try them on.


Size 4/27 my ass. Literally. Fits more like a 6/28-29


Cute Daisy Fuentes frock Zeb brought home for me. It’s a little tight in the chest, an occupational hazard from pole dancing. Your back and lats get big and your boobs shrink, unless you bought them, then you just have to get bigger tops. FREE.

Ironically these clothes are made for young women. No one under 40 could possible know who Daisy Fuentes is. She used to be a VeeJay on MTV. What? MTV showed music videos? Since when?


Kids Fuggs (as in FAKE UGGS) size 2. FREE.


The scrap book and the empty binders are FREE.

I am SO PSYCHED to get rid of this. I’ve been carrying these divorce documents around forever and they are the kind of thing I wish I could get rid of, but what if something came up and I had to prove that my ex and I are actually divorced? Shit like that happens, yo.

For instance, years ago Zeb got a call from the Denver police department saying that there was a warrant out for his arrest. He went down to the station and was booked for kidnapping. Another man, with his exact same name (that never happens, two people having the same name – I googled his name and got 1,420,000 hits), was accused of kidnapping his girlfriend and locking her in his apartment.

Said woman filed a report and the intrepid Denver PD looked in the phone book, found Zeb’s name and arrested him. Pay no mind to the fact that she knew her attacker, provided his information and description (not insignificantly, he’s BLACK and Zeb is NOT), and social security number and said, “You’ve got the wrong guy. This is not my boyfriend.” Still it cost Zeb $3000 to have his name cleared. Fast forward years later we were cleaning off his desk and came across the legal documents. He tossed the file figuring that it was handled. Only it wasn’t. He applied to have his name on the liquor license for his now-defunct nightclub and was denied because he failed to mention that he was charged with a felony.

He was like, “But it wasn’t me.” and the crazy liquor license woman was all, “But you lied about being charged with a felony you lying liar!” and he was all, “BUT IT WASN’T ME!” for like a half hour and he still never got his license because he didn’t have the legal documents to prove it. DPD never expunged his file, even though the court ordered them to, which leads me back to why I still have my divorce documents.

What if for some reason I had to prove my ex and I were divorced, like, if I was in the hospital and Zeb couldn’t see me because somewhere it said I was married to someone else and I didn’t have the documents to prove it and I’d be forced to deal with my ex and he’d be all, “But you cheated on me! You should give me more money!” and I’d be all dying and like, “For fuck’s sake I said I was sorry ten-thousand times! I am very, very, verrrrry sorry! Now can I please see my family before I lapse into a coma?”

Hell-To-The-No. Scanned. Saved. FOREVER.

Finally, I posted these a while ago, but come on ladies, someone has to want these. FREE!!!!

Finally, I posted these a while ago, but come on ladies, someone has to want these. FREE!!!!

Infant Aquatics Wet Suit (size MEDIUM) FREE and Magnetos. FREE.

5 thoughts on “False Imprisonment (1558-1597)

  1. Random observation here, but having read your blog from the very beginning, there’s just something about your writing that seems .. happier .. with every single blog post. It’s as if every purge you do shows in your writing, and it’s a fun process to follow along:)

    Also, wow on the crazy arrest story – that’s exactly the kind of thing that makes me shake my head and go “those crazy Americans, that would never have happened in Norway.” :p

    • I like that observation! I don’t know if it is the purging or the daily writing but I feel like I have purpose and am creating something completely my own. It’s a great feeling.

  2. Just started reading your blog from your post on BRM. I love this post and how spunky it was. Not sure if that’s exactly the right word or not…. but you had me laughing at keeping your divorce docs, you know…just in case.

    I’m curious, do people stop by to pick up the things you post?

    • People actually do pick up things. All you have to do is email/reply and I’ll send a private message back with details. Zeb gets a kick out of seeing women come up to the porch, pick up a bag with their name on it and leave smiling.

  3. Pingback: Haters Gonna Hate (7392-7394) | Vivienne's Process of Elimination

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