Let’s be the Bonnie and Clyde of authors—
Would that be Bukowski and Sylvia Plath?
Or maybe Hemingway and Virginia Woolfe?
But I’m the orphaned love-child of Bukowski and Plath,
A seed planted in the Bell jar that stood beside the bed
Covered in tangled sheets and sweaty limbs,
Grinding groins and panted meter.
So I guess

we

can’t be them…

because I already am.

The Bored Housewife Chronicles, at last

I've spent some time editing and arranging selected Fantasy Friday posts, regular posts, and short stories from the Bored Housewife years into a collection, and it's for sale on amazon.com as an e book. Shortly, it will also be available in paperback.

Mostly, I've done this as a way to inspire myself to continue writing, and to memorialize the time I spent here in Blog Land...it feels like a whole separate lifetime.

I used a pseudonym, in the hopes of maintaining some sense of anonymity, but I'll probably end up telling everyone I know, anyway...ha.

Here is the link, if you want to see my (pen) name in print!! Kind of fun...

Not trying to hawk my wares, so to speak, but would really love if anyone wants to leave a review. You've all read it already, no need to buy.

(yes, I'm whatever the inverse of "natural salesman" is, why do you ask?? haha!)

(and definitely weird to see a pen name instead of MY name. Might have to change that...)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007JE6C5M

Happy Daylight Savings to you all...grumble...yawn....
(update: I couldn't handle not using my real name, so, yeah...)

It's raining, it's pouring...

My Love works nights about the half the time,
so tonight it is just me and four cats on this big ole bed.
I can hear peepers outside, and crickets or something.
I love how alive this place is.
This is NOT city living, that's for damn sure!
The country is loud with quiet...
And there are so many stars here it make me wish I had a telescope to see them more clearly!
I love it.

Trying to think of more intersting things, but all that comes to mind are my worries.
I guess that's just how life is.

Instead, here's a story I started writing the other day.
Just sorta rolled off my tongue, but with some editing and a few more pages, it could be a cool little story. Or first chapter to a book.........

She wasn't the only one there with tattoos and cut-offs, but she managed to look the sleaziest. Maybe it was the dark eye makeup, or the unexpectedness of so many lines on the childish face. She had a skinned knee and a hole just under the back pocket of her ill-fitting shorts, but there appeared to be knitting needles sticking out of the lumpy backpack she carried. She had something nondescript sprawled across her lower back, ink stains on skin, but the rose tattoo on her ankle was the final piece of the jumbled timeline. The rose was straight out of the 70s, but this girl's mother was probably too young for a tattoo in the 70s. Her name, obviously, was Crystal. What other name would a girl like this have? The dirt under her fingernails hinted at something, but the cigarette clasped between those fingers was what really drew the eye. She held it like a child holds a crayon, her fist curled around it, shoving it into her rotten, ragged-looking mouth.

The jukebox stopped and in the silence, other senses were sharpened--the grit on the floor could be felt inside shoes, while the scent of stale smoke and unwashed armpits was almost a taste, and made several patrons blink. The silence also left room for the Jimmy the bartender to notice this squalid presence, this aged child.

"You got some ID, junior?"

Crystal swatted the fly that had landed on the back of her cigarette hand. She looked into his grey, drooping eyes and said nothing.

"Look, I gotta see some ID or they'll shut me down. And I can't afford that shit again this month." He braced his hands against the bar, holding his ground.

She sighed and reached into her backpack. She tossed something hat looked like a receipt, or an invoice onto the polished wood stretched out before her.

After his eyes skimmed the paper, Jimmy cocked one eyebrow, smoothed his mustache with one large hand, and gave it back to her. Mostly to himself he said, "Well that explains a lot," shook his head slightly and met her eyes again. "What'll it be?"

She coughed from somewhere deep in her lungs and pointed to the Budweiser sign behind him. "Light," she amended.

"Three bucks." They completed the exchange in silence and she took the bottle to the far corner of the room. Sometime during that slow-motion exchange, the jukebox had started up again, same song as before. There was a dull buzz of conversation, but most people were edging away from Crystal's booth.

Crystal put the bottle to her lips and let the cool crispness wash through her mouth, her scattered thoughts each fighting for center stage. She didn't really want to be here, in a crappy bar full of crappy drunks, each making some version of a crappy judgment of her. She could feel their disapproval, smell their loathing. But she didn't know how she must look to them. She didn't know they could see her life spelled out in the way she walked, the breaths she drew. She lived inside her own head and had very little use for anyone in the outside world. She needed something, though, and she had decided that this might be a place she could find it, or get closer to finding it.

The scene before her seemed convex, with all the people clustered at the center of the warped vision. She sipped at the brown, sweating bottle until the scene stabilized and she was able to see each person separately.

Breathless

Just a little story from my time as a single woman in America...
Dating was always one of my greatest pleasures!

Too many drinks, too many smokes....
music--every song the soundtrack to your eyes on mine...
your skin on mine.
we stumble to a room, a mattress on the floor.
candles cover every surface,
a fleeting thought to light them is replaced with your lips on mine.
where are we?--another fleeting thought replaced with your hand on my bare stomach, pushing my shirt higher.
the music is loud, the smoke heavy, softening the edges of everything.
you ask to see my tattoo.
i unbutton my pants, opening them to reveal my hip to you...
you kneel, kissing...your hands on my waist.
showing so much restraint, creating so much heat....
we are so young, so unsure.
breathless.
you look up at me, head cocked, questioning.
i nod slightly, my breathing turns shallow.
you slide my pants down, i step out.
you stand, pulling your t-shirt over your head.
you kiss me on the mouth, both of us suddenly aware of so much skin, a closed door, a bed...
i touch your chest with a tenative hand, the thrill from it reaching my toes.
our kisses open our minds and bodies to each other--and close out all else.
the music stops for a moment, and we hear voices.
we pause, looking into each other's eyes--by mistake, almost.
the shyness nearly returns,
but the music starts again and we make our way to that bed on the floor, shedding clothes along the way.
all of your skin on all of mine, the kissing continues, each of us afraid to take the next step.
you say my name and my stomach flips.
i look at you, mouth open ready to speak...
you say your name with a soft smile, for the first time that evening.
my hands go to your purposely-messy hair, a thumb tracing your studded earlobe.
your hand strays down my side, hesitantly inching inward...
i let out a soft moan as your fingers find their mark.
i reach down to touch....you...so smooth...
both of us ready, both of us hesitant.
i spread my legs wider, you sink in.
we both sigh.
moving together in a rhythm so soft and sure, that it seems we've done this a thousand times.
in that moment i know it is the future i'm feeling and not the past.
you know it too, and smile, saying my name again, the breath it takes tickling my ear.
your hands are soft and have found all the right places, this interlocking opening the store of memories yet to come.
we have become a sweating writhing tangle of limbs, with tunnel vision.
my nails find your back, your lips find my breasts, we are lost in this maze.
it builds to a frenzy of need, being released only by the waves of ecstasy which wash over us together.

Moaning Monday

So that Girls Night Out/Toy Party was a hoot and a holler.
We had so much fun and I even learned a few things--surprisingly!
Most of the products they showed were things I had seen before or used before,
but there were a couple of new twists on old things.
The highlight of the evening was the presenter demonstrating the use of some straps on a guest of the party, and also the penis ice sculpture adorning the food table.
Ice has never made my mouth water more...

I have a ton to do today, but I couldn't leave you empty handed.
So to speak.
Here's one of my favorites, about the fun of dating...


Office Surprise
When you get back from lunch, make sure to close that office door behind you.
And when you sit down, don't slide your legs all the way under your desk.
...there won't be room.
You'll know i'm there, but we won't say a word.
I reach up, and unzip your pants as you phone the secretary asking her to hold your calls.
you're hard already, your heart beating as fast as the rhythm in my ears.
I am careful, but quick--we could be interupted at any moment.
opening wide, i take as much into my mouth as i can, swirling my tongue around...
massaging so softly--yet firmly--with my hand, making a harmony of pleasure.
you lean back in your chair, a rough sigh escapes your lips.
my breathing becomes louder, i'm so aroused it takes all of my self control to not climb onto your ready lap.
...remove those glasses, tousle that hair....
but i don't.
i stay where i am, and continue licking--you're almost there.
you grasp your arm rests, knuckles turning white...another sound pushes out of your throat...
and i swallow every drop of your warm saltiness.
you sit back with a content sigh, as i crawl out, my thumb wiping the last trace of you from my lips.
i stand, straighten my clothes, my hair, wink--then turn and walk out the door.

Monday nights are for being...

Just being.

I was going to take a bath
But I got sidetracked by taking sexy pictures
And falling in love with the comfort of my bed,
sideways.
And now I'm listening to the Juno soundtrack....
And I am smiling at the upbeat melancholy of the sounds surrounding me.

Night skiing is a lot like night swimming...
We had shots of whiskey as we rode up the mountain,
(we had numb fingers as we rocked in the chairlift).
I had lines of poetry, somewhere in there--
but I lost them when the stars came out and
I can't find them now (because the sun came out).

Skiing in muted tones,
under the big lamps
under the small stars--
the snow feels different in the shadows,
the air feels different with no rays of light in it.
And into my ears melt the notes of "Nightswimming"...
I smile, and think, Yeah...
Then I swish
slowly
down the slope...

The end of an era...

I just realized that tonight is the last night of my official run as a housewife.
I am buzzing with excitement--
or is that just the plum wine I'm sipping while dinner cooks?
Either way.
It is worthy of celebration.
While I was grateful for the opportunity to stay home with my little dears,
there is something to be said for going out in the world and being a part of the whole circle of capitalism, ya know??

Might I take a moment to interject a little something off the subject?
I hate a lot of things about MySpace--from the insecure way they ask you every time you do anything, "Are you sure you want to________?" (add that friend, that song, post that comment), to the difficulties that arise with editing the html--come the fuck on, people, just let me edit my goddamned template!!
So anyway...what annoys me the very most is right here in the blog function. See, I have this styyyyyle, man, this grooove.
I have a WAY I do things, ya dig?
I type a post like it's a poem, no matter what I'm saying;
I can't help it, it's just how I roll.
Yo.
HOWEVER.
In this particular stupid-ass editing window, I can't just hit "enter" and get a return.
Oh no.
I must hit "shift" and "enter" to get a normal "enter".
WHY?????
Dear, god, tell me why!!!!
It makes no sense.
So, like, Tom, you dirty bastard, if you are out there, listening, could you pretty please, with sugar to be licked off a stripper's nipples on top, make it an option to just have NORMAL key functions in this shit hole????
Thanks.

Uh....
Wow.
Who knew 5 and a half sips of plum wine would turn me into an irate little pumpkin pie maker???
(I made pumpkin pie today)

Odd.
Well, I came here to write about something...but now the timer is beeping loudly in my plum wine-dazzled ears, and I should go remove the garlic, mushroom and spinach pizza from the oven before it burns.

Ok, I removed the pizza and now I'm back.
I also ate the pizza, and it was good.
The kids were not as impressed with the gentle mixing of flavors as I was, but that's just tough.
Now that picky-eatin' daddy is out of the picture, I'll cook what I damn well please!!!
Wooo, that feels good!
There are so many things I can do now, it's awesome.
Like, have a job, for example...
I can't even tell you how wonderful it feels to know that I will have something else in this world that I'm responsible for other than my own home....
and when people ask what I do, I can say, "I write marketing materials for a software company!!!!"
And sadly, yes, I'll probably have four exclamation points worth of enthusiasm when sharing that news.

I have so many great ideas about how to navigate my newly reset future that I can hardly sit still.
I must, though.
I must find that quiet place inside and really think, really feel to figure out my next step.
I need to commit to a vision and run with it.

Also, I could use an ice cube.
Someone's eagerness for that pizza may have interfered with her mouth's intentions to not get burned...

Drunk on a Weeknight, Part 2

Lordy, I'm blessed with a great babysitter.
Who was I talking to...someone asked where my kids were.
It felt almost accusatory.
With their favorite babysitter who plays with them and has a great time with them, asswipe.
I wish I could remember who it was...
Anyway, great night.
I did not get a hangover today, and that was such a miraculous and joyful experience that I decided to try it again.
We shall see.

Tonight there was a pool tournament at a very smoky small place.
There was a tiny little pixie of a girl, celebrating her birthday, so genuine and dear.
And toothless Mark, who got more than just his two front ones for christmas; he looks like a new man.

And the kid who thought he knew me, but he didn't.
Or maybe that was a pickup line....? ha. maybe.
But he looked familiar, and his last name wasn't Durden, but I checked, cuz Tylers must get that a lot.
and then when I say I'm a writer, i get a good lesson in why not to be quite so pretentious because you wouldn't believe how often people will say, "oh, everyone tells me that I should write a book about my life."
No.
Sorry, dude.
Your life is just your life, and it's not that special.
You gotta have soul, you gotta have purpose.
Why the fuck do you think I haven't written a book yet, and why the fuck do you think there aren't 8 million memoirs lining the shelves?
No one cares that you did drugs and now you don't. Whoopdee frigggin doo. It's how the story's told that matters.
I'm an asshole, aren't I?
Yes, but that's just my attempt at balancing my life because you see, I was married to an asshole and now I'm not, so therefore I need to be both the asshole and the sweetheart, kind of like being both the mother and the father. Ha. That was a bad joke. Truly terrible.
But I'm good at terrible jokes.
And I'm terrible at good jokes.
But more than that, I'm terrible at pool.
And suddenly I have to pee and want some food and I want to stay up all night watching movies, but I'll be asleep 5 minutes after I get in bed, and for the moment I wish I had a man in my bed for just those 5 minutes, so I could grind into him and then kick him out. With a wink. Never would I really just gobble up and discard a precious Man Creature--they are delicacies to be enjoyed for a long time...haha!

I had something to say about the rockstar-pimp that frequents the bar we went to, something about how his hotness sizzles across the room and leaves you with freezer burn along the length of your neck and up into the corners of your mouth, your tongue dancing in your mouth, trying to leap out and down his throat or his pants or dear god, wherever he wants it---
fuck, he was god-like.
And his wife makes me seriously reconsider my sexual orientation.
They are this power couple, of hotness.
Fortunately she is amiable and inclusive and we hit it off...actually we pissed off the God of Sex by cheering her on in her victory against him in pool. I must have been drunk because I was very comfortable joking with him about the scowl on his face as she whomped him. And I must not have been very drunk because I didn't even once ask him if I could lick him.
Which is what I wanted to do.
Anywhere--hell, I'd lick his elbow, just let me touch that skin!
Ok, someone's horny.
not mentioning any names, but her initials are--
me.

I'm just glad I got my drinking out of the way early.
Now I can stay home and watch movies all weekend in my pajamas...
It's going to snow from now until next month.
February starts in about 6 days, but that's still a lot of snow.
Good for the skiing, right?
I wonder if I'll be divorced by then?
I will celebrate by buying a plane ticket to Hawaii.
I have friends there--
a dear friend whose husband is forever in my heart because he knows my beautiful sister and he dubbed ME the "prettier sister"! No. Way. Lived my life in her shadow, folks, and that explains a lot doesn't it?? But the point is, I'll never forget that Irish bastard for sharing his preference. Sniff. I love you guys!!!

Ok....
I'm going....
good night.....

Who gets drunk on a Wednesday night?

Oh yeah...
Me.

Not very often, mind you, but this time.
Yes.
I did.
And now my emotions are taking me hostage.
I am crying, lamenting the fate of my one true love--
he made commitments before he knew I existed,
before I knew he would complement my soul like a geometry problem.

It is 11:11 right now...
make a wish.

We had a great time tonight, becky and I.
We laughed and played darts
and laughed and tried to play pool...
she succeeded; I failed.
Heh.
I chose great jukebox songs and earlier I cooked a delicious dinner.
We were the only women there, well, besides the bar hags, but seriously, they don't count...
and dear universe, please let me never be a bar hag.
haha!!
Let me never be old and alone and inahling smoke every night cuz the walls of my home are too close, the staleness of the air more foul then second-hand lung cancer.
Let me glory in the beauty of love and then settle into its warm embrace for the next 50-60 years.
Let me find someone
...else.
I know, universe, I know you already gave me the most precious and magical gift you could conceive of--and that's saying a lot--but that gift, well, as it turns out that gift was more of a taunt....cuz I can't hold that gift and I can't smell the skin on the neck of that gift, and that gift can't kiss the small of my back and hold me tight when I cry.
I hate you universe for showing me everything I want and then hiding it so far away from me that I can never even feel the light reflecting off my gift, SEE my gift with my own eyes.
What's the point of any of this, if perfection is shown to me and kept away?

My heart breaks for Cameron for Blaine and for You.
I guess that's what I get for getting drunk on a Wednesday night.

Why is this blog so goddamn depressing these days???
I swear on the lives of all that I love: I am cheerful most of the time!!!
I am, I am.
But for some reason, I come here and out it pours.

I went skiing today, after hemming and hawing over whether or not to go.
I finally got there and as I approached the lift, I saw him.
The one that usually makes my heart soar.
For some reason, seeing him caused me to grimace.
And then as I exchanged smiles and words and landed on the chair that would carry me up the mountain,
a snarl began to grow in my chest.
And I worked my way down the intermediate slope without grace, stopping to take a picture for the kid doing the jump; I think it came out fabulously.
Stopping again to take off my skis and walk past the steep part because I was too growly to attempt it.
I think it's time to admit that he's only perfect when he's with me and that's not nearly often enough for my liking.
I want to spend more time with him--see him, taste him, soak up his presence.
I left after 3 runs, without saying goodbye.
I snatched my beloved Pearl jam from the dash and frantically searched my CDs for something more...screamable.
I found something, fortunately.
And I wailed my way down the mountain, angrily shouting along with Buckcherry and Rob Zombie...
It felt good and then I couldn't remember why I was so angry...there wasn't a reason.
He did nothing wrong, I just.
Just.
I dared to be open for love, so fast, so soon and then?
Then he wasn't quite ready, so it was like being rejected and that just shuts down love and I'm too drunk to be typing.
My head is spinning and I want to shower all this smoke off my body, my body which I love, my body which is beautiful in its smoothness, firmness, curviness.......
I wish You were here, always.
I wish I didn't love myself so much, so maybe I could settle for someone else loving me less. But I am fantastic and I want to be with someone who agrees. That's the whole point of this divorce situation...
fck mefuck me fuck me
fuck this

I will go to bed now.
shower first.
drink olots of water.
sick of fixing typos.
Better not be hung over in case I want to ski tomororw.
not at His mountain. At mine.
He doesn't want me around anyway.
fuck him.

fuck this
fcuk mfuck fuck.





fuck.

They call me Mellow Yellow...

quite right.

No, they really don't call me that.
I know I've mentioned this before, but I really have no clue who "they" are, anyway.
I do, however, wish they would quit being so opinionated and involved in everything.
Damn meddlers.

Good weekend, overall.
Spent some quality time with the kids yesterday, or rather, let them spend some quality time with their friends at an indoor jump around and be crazy place.
It was awesome.

I did not make it skiing Thursday, because I realized I had some grocery shopping to do and I sort of lollygagged around and missed the window of opportunity in which to go skiing...
I'm such a day dreamer sometimes.
Anyway, I may try again tomorrow.
My horoscope suggested that I be responsible tomorrow instead of giving in to my urge to play, but who really takes those things seriously???
So.
We'll see.

Today was a day of cooking and lounging.
It was lovely.
I played with the kids some, and fed them a gorgeous dinner--
which, oddly enough, they appreciated!
They always do...and yet it never fails to move me and shock me that they are aware of the difference between Mom's Juicy Roast Beef and Freshly Mashed Potatoes and macaroni and cheese from a box...
Ok, it shouldn't shock me; they are NOT morons.
Anyway, it's cool to be appreciated.

I wish my head would stop spinning.
I am excited for this beautiful, fresh new year.
It's going to be a magical one, I can tell!

Well, well, well...

The Almost-Ex sent me the divorce papers last night.
Everything looks good.
We could be officially divorced in as little as 2 weeks.
Again I find myself with memories rushing down on me, and disbelief.
My future has been wrenched out of my grasp, but only because I wasn't holding on to it.
The thoughts fill my mind, without permission, of all the ways I could have done this better, could have made it work.
And how could I have made it work?
I could have changed the very last speck of Who I Am.
But that just wouldn't do, now would it?
Fuck no.
So now I smile again; see how quickly I can work through this stuff??
(Ok, maybe it helps that I initially wrote that little section in an email to my Dearest friend, who knows the patterns of my soul like the route to work...but either way, writing it cheered me up.)

I am trying to decide what to do with my possible last day of mid-week freedom...
Something about having a job is so thrilling to me!
I know, you guys think I'm crazy.
I just miss being a part of a team and I miss that satisfying feeling of earning money!!!!
I haven't had a real paycheck in 7 years!
The newspaper was fun, but it didn't really pay.
With a job on the horizon and the divorce cruising right along, my financial worries are alleviated, just like that.
I mean, let's don't forget: I've been a tad bit pampered the past few years and haven't had any involvement in my family's finances for nearly ten years...
It always felt a little weird, frankly.
And I am STOKED to be responsible for myself: instead of under his thumb.
I could possibly still take one class...
And maybe I will meditate on that.

It's weird, I don't feel like I have a voice anymore, in writing.
Maybe it's because I'm too accustomed to it, so it doesn't startle me anymore, but maybe it's just gone.

Whatever.

Anyway, the kids don't have school tomorrow so today is my (possible) last day of mid-week freedom, as I was saying.
I really want to go skiing....
Or I could clean/organize the Christmas vomit that has taken over the guest room.
Or I could get in bed and watch movies all day.
Or I could go grocery shopping and to the gym...
Hm.
If I'm going to ski I better commit to it pretty damn fast or it won't be worth my time to go.

Rambling and disjointed?
Who me???
Nah.
Have a great day--

Melancholic Monday

Sometimes I feel like You are a song I wrote,
but then I realize it must have been a collaboration,
and I feel a great sense of loss--
you were never really Mine.

But the sun is shining and I have lots to do, so I shall do it!

I went skiing yesterday--and this time I took a friend.
A friend who is a seasoned skier!
Yaay!
A friend who was very patient and very kind in instructing me.
In other words: I got my sea legs back!
I am ready to ski.
I am happily sore and ready to go back again and again until I get very comfortable.

My thoughts are not the most cheerful today.
I feel...a heightened sense of awareness that my husband replaced me and hasn't looked back.
I worry that he is not dealing with this properly, and I also worry that he is trying to change the financial arrangements, the secrurity of which has made it possible for me to not spiral into black depression.
I mean, money is low on my list of priorities in life, but it sure is nice to be able to feed the kids and drive a dependable car and live in a nice little house.
I fear his resentment is growing and his commitment to being "fair" is slipping.
I fear he is hiding money and lying about stuff.

He's probably just mad that I'm not suffering.

I refuse to be eaten up by worries.
I will continue to look for a job so that I feel less dependent on him and more in control of my own future!
I need to decide in the next couple of days whether I can pay for school or not.
I am applying for financial aid, but it's too late for this semester.
Welcome to reality, Lisa.
It's a little scary at times, but mostly I am excited to be a part of the world again.

I am in love--

With Regina Spektor, sillies.
This woman continues to move me like a U-haul.
But...
if you must know...
I'm pretty content with My So-Called (Love) Life at this precise moment.
I feel calmer, more centered;
yet--
more alive.
This man.
Yes, I've graduated him from the casual term of endearment, "boy", to the more Real term, "man".

I feel.....
like the beach instead of the waves right now.
Smooth, warm, stable...if ever-shifting.

Just spent 2 hours on the phone with the dear friend who lived here for the month of November.
Miss her!
Love that baby of hers.
And she gave me the BEST fuckin' epiphany just before we hung up.
Rock that shit.
It was so amazing.
And I"m going to write it down so I don't forget, and then
I'm going to go to Sh's house and play Tetris til the break of dawn!
Epiphany:
The reason the universe has thrown this perfect man into my lap and then made him unavailable is that I need (in a desert/rain manner) to learn to be ok with me and I need the space to pursue my interests and spend time with friends and--
oh, this doesn't even sound cool on paper, but it's sparky in my head, so whatever.
More later?

The newest addition to my art collection:

One of my faaaavorite artists, who happens to have both a beautiful soul and a beautiful face to match her beautiful creations!
(for the record, I got it for a STEAL at on auction...)

HAAAAAAA

ppy New Year!!!

I hope this isn't an omen, but I am hungover and my cold has cranked up a notch or twelve.
I feel like shiiiiiiit.
But I choose to believe this is just the last of the previous year's ickiness being purged from my body before I move fully into this fresh, new year!

I think I had some cool shit to say, but then my congested chest and sinuses sort of choked the words from my grasp.
Oh well.

I think I'll snuggle back into my soft, warm bed and watch Hairy P0tter.

Why do I only come here when my thoughts are churning like a tornado on crack???

Oh yeah...
maybe it's because I think best with my fingers.
It's not very convenient; especially for verbal communications.
Gah.
Why do I keep trying so hard to fuck up my budding relationship???
Answer: probably because I'm not really ready for a new Relationship.
In case you hadn't noticed, it takes a lot of work to sustain one of those over time.
Yeah, I know, it's a shocker.
A fucking new idea, man.
And I'm pretty much tapped on from that last one...
but my reserves are building and I know what it takes, but maybe that's the problem...?
I know too well what it takes...I get tired just thinking about it.

The thing is...
I know I'm worth more of his attention, I just know it.
And I know he digs me.
He really does.
SO WHAT THE BLOODY FUCKING HELL IS THE ISSUE??????
Yes, that is what I would like to scream at him.
But I don't.
I just smile and nod and play Pleasant/Polite/PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE.
Hey, Lisa?
STOP IT.
Speak your mind, you fucking moron, tell him it is NOT OK that he is never available.
(yes, I'm chastising myself here--stand back)
But no, I don't.
I wait until I've hung up and the tears jump out of my eyes and the sobs leap out of my throat and I find myself sitting on the floor in my pitch-dark bathroom, the traffic on my emotional highway merging from sad into angry.
And then, when anger arrives I text him.
Because, don't forget, I'M PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE as a motherfucker.
I don't even know what I want anymore.
Him.
I want him.
And I know he wants me, but Jesus hairy ball sack Christ!
Why didn't someone warn me that dating is PURE, CRYSTALIZED HELL ON EARTH????
God dammit.
Give me back my shitty and unfulfilling marriage cuz I can't take this torture anymore!!!!
I'll call you tomorrow when I'm not so tired. We should talk.
Uh, yeah. Are ya sure??
I mean, technically there are two hours and 31 minutes left in today, the "tomorrow" you mentioned, but no.
Not a word from you.
My hair happens to look so fucking great right now that I'm considering heading out to the neighborhood bar just to let someone else look at me, I mean, they probably don't deserve to be graced with my beauty, but shit, this kind of hair day doesn't happen every...day....that felt redundant.
But whatever.
Not that this is about my hair, or my appearance at all, but still.
At least I have a date for New Year's Eve.
A guy friend who wants to date me...but ya know...I'm hung up on this other fella so it's hard to see him as more than a friend.
It's hard to see anyone else that asks me out as anything but a weak and unsatisfactory replacement for this other fella.
But I guess that's what I get.
That's my punishment for expecting divorce to make me happier.
Divorce is supposed to make you miserable, right??
Right.
So bring it the fuck on, universe--
I'm ready for your worst!

Yeah.

I just want to quiet the inner turmoil.
Feed the demons, etc.
But...that's not what I want.
I want to be happy, I want to be in love.
But maybe the two are mutually exclusive for me, for now.
And maybe this is why I have avoided being in love for the past 14 years...
Because, goddammit, opening oneself up to love deeply just opens oneself up to excruciating pain.
What happened to that Embracing All Emotions attitude that I adopted to nobly face my life as an "artist"?
Yeah.
It's hiding somewhere far away and refuses to grace me with its humble presence and I am cringing here in the bright light of Reality while waiting for the screaming masses of Crazy to descend upon me, as they would if I were really an artist.

Well.
...time for a check-in with the Bright Side Seekers committe, the Silver Panty Liner Gals--
Tomorrow or the next day I should be receiving my new painting.
And today I got a $200 check from Google for my Ads, so even though their very content offends my fickle nature, I will cash that check and party it up!
Happy New Year, indeed!

And now, because I feel it roll off my tongue, may I present:

Poetry for pussies--

Put something in me
Fill me, fuck me
Make me ache
Lick me raw
Shave me smooth.
But do it quick,
cuz I'm tired and sick
of you.

...what?
Did you think I was going to be all figurative and metaphorical and shit??
Nah; that stuff's for pussies.
Heh.

I hereby set myself free of all my angst and all my expectations!
Tonight is mine, tomorrow y'all can come back of you must...
But.
For tonight I choose happiness.
That boy be damned--
he's as scared of commitment as I am and we will find our way soon enough.
Because he...he fits inside my soul like I fit in that corset he loves
and he fits inside my body like sex was invented just to define the phenomenon of Us.
...our limbs intertwining and responding and writhing and---
fuck.
Good thing I replaced the batteries in that one thing...

(yes, I'm as glad to see the Crazy Bitch known as the Bored Housewife as the rest of you...maybe my fatigued and perpetually-on-the-verge-of-tears self will be entertaining to someone...)

P.S. I just composed an "I miss you" email to the Soon To Be Ex...fortunately the tears and snot factory sent me running for tissues which gave me the chance to come to my senses before sending it. Gah. I think this calls for getting drunk and fucking a stranger, whadda ya say? Ok, fine. I'll just binge eat.
P.S.S. My head feels like a block of cheese that has been shot through with a machine gun; no, not Swiss Cheese--the bullets ripping through fleshiness is an important part of the image! The swiss are far too uninvolved to convey my feelings with accuracy. They're terrible marksmen, too.

Head, heart--scrambled

The crowded smoky room
can't breathe
thoughts pounding too loudly against their bone cage.
The cold air against cheeks
feet crunching through yesterday's still-frozen snow
making tracks in this abandoned Main St of Small Town America
So dark, so still
Thoughts begin to assemble into an order, digestible, comprehensible.
The heart still clenches together, refusing to break.
Too much recent scarring, too many fresh lacerations--
broken and rebroken and as misshapen as a veteran boxer's nose.

All I want (I tell the stars) is for you to reach out
just a little more often.
Let me love you before the dam bursts and all my love crashes over you in seething waves of anger, as hot as the tears
that sear
their way down my cold cheeks.

Everyone wants to love me but you.
And then I almost laugh at my drama--
you do, too, but you know...you know how powerful it will be, how strong and unbreakable, unshakable, un
endable
it will be.

I should just let me heart finish breaking for that man I failed.
That man I never loved right...even if my failure was aided and abetted by his failure and even if we both know this is the right decision, but sometimes I can't believe he's not myfamily anymore he's not my partner (no matter how deficient) and I just want all the sadness out and I know it's almost all gone, I've come far--fast, but I just want the blood to stop pumping straight out of my heart, leaking into my respiratory system, making it so that I can't breathe without choking on my own broken heart.

When tears flow over my neck the salt leaves a red rash...
So hot.

I feel like I am nearing the summit of this mountain, so
close
so
so
close.
When I reach the top, will B. be there?
Yeah...
I believe with all of my heart's broken strength that he will.
But if he's not, I'll be ok.
There are so many fish in this sea that I'm getting sushi envy.

Whew...
That was intense.
I wasn't exactly expecting so much to come out, but it just sort of poured over me.
I hope it was coherant.
...mostly I hope that my words continue to flow
and grow
more beautiful as my wounds heal.

I am still lighter and happier than I've been in years, even with all the leaking of sadness...
So that is why I can smile as I wipe the tears from my itchy neck and feel as comfortable and settled into this life of mine as if it was my destiny.
Oh wait...
*wink*

Merry Christmas, anyone who's out there.
Let's all be thankful for as many things as we can possibly think of today.

No more words--

Tell me you love me while you're lookin' away!
Ha.

I finally swung by the bar to drop off a thank you gift for the artist who sketched me...a few weeks ago, now.
Feels like forever, but I guess it was just 2 weeks ago.
Hm.
Anyway.
I had just missed him, but the bartender took the little red gift bag with 3 packs of his brand of cigarettes, a sheaf of paper with words from this lil ole blog, and a bill, folded into a bow-tie...
I wish I could commission one of his bronze sculptures...of anything--it wouldn't matter.
The one I've seen is imprinted in my mind, the power of the lines, the grace of the shaping!
I'll have him draw the kids sometime, for my Mother's Day gift to myself, maybe.

And speaking of my growing art collection!
I won a silent auction on a piece from my favorite painter's gallery!
She is one of the dearest human beings on record, and has a soul as lovely as its shell.
Not to mention the way she makes a simple painting come alive--
when it slips along your optic nerve it leaves a trail of glitter
winding through the pathways of your heart and that indefinable place inside where giddiness is conceived,
the images she imagines slip inside you and dance like whole tribe of fertility gods for your own imagination.

Yeah.
And it'll be delivered from Phoenix next week.
I will be breathless til then.
I will tear pictures of my own dear chidren off the wall, because I already know where this gorgeous piece
MUST
hang.

Graffiti I left on the table
at the bar...
with a pencil:

Words--
used to come so fast I tripped over them.
Now they lie behind a rock wall,
dammed...
damned.
Writer's Block isn't even in my lexicon.
But it should be tattooed across my forehead,
or one letter on each knuckle--
a prison tat
for my liberated soul.

And now I'll go shower off the smokiness.
Cuz...
BLECH!
And I snuggle into that giant bed of mine,
and maybe...
I'll dare to dream of the time when I can dare to dream of the time...
when I'll be in love again.

This just doesn't seem real right now

I mean...
I had my path before me, ya know?
It wasn't the path I wanted, but it was tehre, just the same.
And now it's all gone and I'm happy with my new path, but sometimes I miss the comfort of familiarity.
Sometimes I miss the easy life.

I was just putting jam on a hunk of bread (jam I made, in fact) when I realized that one of the things the SoonToBe never recognized or appreciated about me was that I am considerate.
There are many things about which others have noted, things I value, that he spent 9 years overlooking.
And...
I'm sure there are plenty of things about him that I didn't value as I should have.
But I tried awfully hard to find all the good in him that I could.

Whatever.
I'm just feeling a little weirded out about the fact that Christmas without him will be happier than Christmas was when I was with him--because he was a Grinchy ole Scrooge.
And I have fun presents to open and great friends and family to be around--
and a babysitter for New Year's Eve!
...and a faaaantastic date to spend it with, if I'm lucky.
(Luck, in this case, equals his work schedule cooperating)

Anyway.
I apologize for the touch of a downer, there.
I am fighting off a coldy-flu thing and have spent the last couple of hours apathetically watching some unaccountably good soft-porn.
Ah, wait--I can suddenly account for the apparent quality!
See: fighting off illness.
Ha!
Seriously, though, I watched an episode of 30 Rock and laughed my pubes off and then somehow I stumbled onto Skin-amax...
I can't be bothered to be aroused by it most of the time, and tonight's no exception.
I should write that stuff.

Ok, that's enough of a schizophrenic post for one night, don't you think?

A gnawing orneriness seeps into me, and out of me...

I feel hungry, but I just ate
I feel tired, but I just slept...
well, no, actually I didn't, but I have been lethargic all day.
The kids won't stop talking, but it's happy talk so I can't actually do anything about it but participate.
We had s'mores for dessert, because someone gave them a S'mores Maker.
It was fun, but my head still hurts.
Maybe I just need to take a long bath--
but no, that thought makes me almost snarl.
I would blame PMS, but we're in the Post stages, and I learned at the age of 13 that the P stands for Pre...
I was a little confused and was complaining of a headache, trying to brag that I had joined the ranks of women, and my best friend's mother asked some time line clarifying questions,
leading me to throw out the word "Post",
and then
she laughed her loud and full laugh at me--
the P stands for Pre, Lisa!
Anyway...
I love taking little strolls down Memory Lane in the middle of a huricaine.

I think I had things to say,
but now I don't.
Life is good, just feel unaccountably icky right at the moment.
Kids are being so loud I can't even remember why I wanted to post earlier...
something about a follow up to my last post...?
Oh yeah--
I got a universal remote and my tv woes are over!
So yay for not buying a $500 tv to replace a $6 remote.
Good girl.

So does that mean you do surgery on dummies?

That's right.
My best friend successfully defended her disertation yesterday and she is offically
Dr. G!
I am soooo proud of her.
But did you ever think of how hard it is to explain that to a couple of 7 year olds who are hearing about it for the first time??
"So does she work at our hospital?"
...uh, no. She's not that kind of doctor...
So after a few minutes of explaining that she has a doctorate in Philosphy, which is a PhD, rather than a doctorate in medicine (MD) and that makes her sort of an expert in her field rather than what they know of as A Doctor...we were back at square one.
But I still laughed in a barking and exuberant manner--
and, giving up, I just said, "Yes. That's what it means. She does surgery on dummies."
How hard do kids rock??

I am so ready for the weekend.
I finsihed my finals yesterday and then went to the aforementioned defense, and to celebrate after, but I still don't feel like I've had a moment to catch my breath.
I feel like I've been running at top speed for weeks...maybe months.
That's ok.
It's all good.
I'm so ready to relax that I haven't even had the slightest desire to go out tonight.
I am considering it...
but.
Unless I hear from The Boy, I will be happy to stay in, maybe catch up on my tv shows.
Fuck.
That reminds me.
I had to switch to a new satellite provider after ten years with the other one, because the Soon To Be Ex decided to turn off his and our bills were linked, and long story short, the other provider was offering a much better deal.
All went according to plan until I tried to change the channel on my tv so I could program my new remote...
see...I have no remote for the tv, but my old satellite remote was programmed to operate it.
Being the considerate fella that I am, I returned the receiver and remotes to the Soon to Be immediately, so that he could do what he needed to do.
I'm sure you're thinking, "Can't you just change the channel manually?"
Well, one would THINK.
But, no.
The Channel up/down buttons scroll through precisely TWO channels: 20 and 14.
What the FUCK IS THAT???
I've checked the on-screen menu and everything, but there is no way to put it on channel 3, which is the channel the satellite guy told me I needed to use for the satellite...and to program the remote.
So.
I have no way to watch tv in my bedroom.
I can watch DVDs, but not tv.
It makes my chest want to growl.
I keep doing everything I can to make this go smoothly for that Asshole and what does he do?
Tells my kids highly inappropriate things, spends his whole visitation weekend ignoring them, and pulling rugs out from under me left and right.
Could it be a hell of a lot worse?
Yes.
It absolutely could.
I just wish I would learn to stop trying so hard to make everyone else's life easier.
Cuz no one seems to give me the same courtesy.

....would you like a glass for that, or do you just want to pop the cork and chug it?
(sorry)

Cuz, actually, the satellite guy went out of his way to make sure I had the remotes I needed and the tv setup that I preferred, even though it was out of the ordinary.

I got all my Christmas packages in the mail today!
And priority mail was only a little more, so they'll all be there in time for the holiday!!
yay!
I just hope I addressed them all correctly...heh.

Later, fuckers.

Ssshhh....

Don't tell anyone I'm here...
I just really felt like being this Me today.

I love the way I feeeeel
when I write here.
This is where I became myself, where I expelled all of my neuroses and fantasies from the corners of my soul, offering them to the world for examination.
My voice lost its dimension as I battled against the vise grip of my deteriorating marriage and I tried wearing other monikers, but none ever felt right.
So, I'll see how I feel about writing here...
I miss it.
I miss the way I felt here.

So.
Here I am, coming quickly upon the 5 year anniversary of the start of this blog, and I am ready to return to it.
I am no longer a wife (well, technically I am, but in reality, the term 'Wife' has been fading from the place it was etched on the epidermis of my soul for quite a long time).
I am no longer bored--not only am I in college full time, but now I have joined the ranks of the toughest broads in America: Singler Mothers!
Woot!
We rock, girls, just so you know.
Anyway, the point is:
I am neither a wife, nor bored.
So I guess that just leaves House...
Can I go by "House"??
...I am not British, I don't have a limp, nor do I look sexy with stubble on my chin.
I also was not in Stuart Little and I can be witty at times, but I tend not to be cruel with wit, especially to people who are sick or dying.
Sheesh!
So...
I guess House is out.
I could be the Post-Marital Syndrome Bored housewife...
snort...
the PMS BHW!
Ok...well, I'll think of a name.
Maybe I'll stick with Lucky Star or Back in Black,
but this site...
kids, there's just something about this place, ya know?
It feels like home.
I could be the Un-Bored House(un)Wife...?
I'll find something that feels right, I'm sure.



Today is a lovely, warmly snowing day.
B. is enjoying his first day of snowboarding and if I close my eyes I can feel the wind rushing past him, and see his grin--it's the easiest way to imagine him since he is such a smiler...
Insert dopey, smiling Siiiigh......

I am falling, but not as gently as the snow.
I am falling haltingly, giddily.
Lurching forward, I fall into this great, gaping crevice in the mountain...

What a week, what a month--
what a bloody YEAR!
I am going to celebrate the end of this year with the fire of new life burning through each cell of my body.
Time to start again, and ready or not, new year,
here
I
come!

Life is good.
I have reached a new level of comfort with this life of mine.

Wow...the snow is falling in giant clumps, so soft and light.
It's going to pile up fast...
tomorrow will be some fucking awesome skiing!
...for people who know HOW to ski.
*grimace*
I will plan on taking a lesson as soon as I get there.
(And remind me to check to see when my Linguistics final is due...)

Life is one big ball of chaos, here, but it's a shiny, pretty one.
D. is moving away today,
Je. is moving away tomorrow...
Ja. is coming tomorrow to visit for the week, and then it's almost Christmas
and then it's New Year's Eve...
And 2008 will be here and we get to have a new President!

Wine and deep thoughts,
karaoke and deep laughs.
Dancing and pool--
the guy who used only one hand, because his skill is so refined that it isn't fair otherwise.
There was the karaoke dude,
with news of his far away friend.
There was my date, and his passion...
And there was the moment He told me something that made me shiver.
And on the way home he dozed a little and slid his hand down my pants and the music was soft and soothing and then we got to my bed and he awoke with a vengeance--
hours and hours of vengeance, in fact.
Daaaaaaaaamn.
At one point I smiled into his glowing face and said, "No one else on the whole planet had sex this good tonight. There's no way."

You could say the divorce really agrees with me.
Hehe...
Also, my kitten is sitting on my desk looking out the window watching the snow...
it's so cute!
Here, I'll show you:

As Tom Petty once said...

It's time to move on, it's time to get goin'
what lies ahead I have no way of knowin'
but under my feet baby, grass is growin'
It's time to move on, it's time to get goin'.

Also, in the immortal words of the great Robert Plant--

Leaves are falling all around,
Its time I was on my way.
Thanks to you, Im much obliged
For such a pleasant stay.

But now its time for me to go,
The autumn moon lights my way.
For now I smell the rain,
And with it pain,
And its headed my way.
Ah, sometimes I grow so tired,
But I know Ive got one thing I got to do,

Ramble on,
And nows the time, the time is now
To sing my song.


So, yeah.
I'm closing the door on the Housewife and the Star.
Lucky and Bored, though they may be, they are mantles I must shed.

If you want to find me, please send me an email.

luckystar AT cdadirect DOT com

Thanks for playin'--




Archives and Fantasy Friday still available; scroll down a bit and they're on the right sidebar.

Let's play Ketchup

Or is that catch up...?
Mustard?
Whatever.

Over the weekend we spent some time with good friends,
some time with his family and some time with mine.
Well, we went to the Ratt-Poison concert with his brother, so that doesn't really count as family time.
Yes, Ratt and Poison touring together!
How fucking hilarious is THAT??
It was interesting.
As a child of the 80s, Poison was a lot of fun, but I had never been into Ratt, so it was hard to get excited while they played.

They put on a pretty good show, but I felt fuzzy and disconnected.
I rediscovered a bit of my energy when Poison took the stage, but I'm feeling so cynical in general right now that it was way too much effort to really be present there and to stop my thoughts from churning.
When they sang, "Something to Belive in" they had a handful of Marines come on stage with them and it filled my head with lots of unwelcome visions.
Standing there so young and so proud in their dress blues, with that signature haircut, I couldn't help but see a familiar face.
And then I couldn't stop myself from imagining the dust and gunfire of the Middle East and I wanted to shove them all into my pocket and run away to Canada to save them from going there...
The worst song, though, was "Every Rose Has its Thorn".
I cried.
As cheesy as it is, it captures so much of what we've been going through lately.
Music is far too inspirational for my own good, I guess.
But at least my husband was drunk, and he's a happy, sentimental, cute drunk.
And at least we snuck onto a golf course and made sweet love under the stars after the show.
I saw a shooting star over his shoulder.

So, yesterday was my first day of class for this new school year.
Summer is not over, I refuse to accept it.
It is still so hot and sunny.
Yesterday it was only in the 80s, though, so that was refreshingly cool.
Bah.
I can't believe I'm saying 85 degrees is COOL.
Anyway, it was a great day.
My circuit training class is pretty fun, although the instructor does not speak English.
It makes question-asking difficult, but otherwise it's fine.
The rest of my classes seem interesting and invigorating and I feel great about the semester!
It's going to be awesome.

Maybe some day I will be a writer again.
For now, I am a student and a wife and a mother.
That is more than enough.

I heard your voice yesterday.
It wasn't really You, but I imagined it was.
I wonder if I'm crazy, or just imaginative.
A little of each probably.
This isn't what I meant to say--
but I find the words stubbornly lodged in my throat.
So many words smashed together that I can't even swallow.
The only way through them is a scream, but it's lying silent, too.
I don't feel like myself; something is missing.
That something is unknown, just out of reach, but maybe I'll find it.

Therapy tonight.
And not a moment too soon, by the sound of that last paragraph.
Heh.
We have a new guy, I don't know if I mentioned it, but he's awesome.
Tonight is just me; should be good.

Today I will do homework and take the boys to the pool.

It is a beautiful day.

Back in black

and feelin' blue.
Nah, not really, but I like the way that sounds.
It has a nice ring to it.
Back in black, and feelin' blue.
Yup.
I dig it.

I've been playing Yellow Ledbetter on repeat for days now.
Not sure if it's because I love it so much or if it's because I'm avoiding listening to about a hundred songs that make my heart cringe.
Either way, it's working out just fine.
Except for the times that the cringey songs sneak up on me and I have to hurry and turn the station/track.
Cuz what I've solidly committed to recently is that I will not wallow.
I will not excessively FEEL stuff.
I'm not saying I plan on shutting off all emotions or anything,
but being an angsty writer is just not working out so well for me.
It causes all flavors of trouble, is what!
I don't know.
Sigh.
It's like my whole identity is shifting, and I'm trying to coax it back to its most authentic version.
Cuz...I have made some pretty vast changes to who I am over the course of my marriage.
And I think that those changes produced resentment that festered in me without my knowledge.
So.
Time to get back to basics, baby.
Time to stop letting my need to please others interfere with authenticity.
I just need to figure this out.

And I can't stop missing my friends.
And I can't stop wondering how they're doing, and what's going on in their lives.

For a little while there, my mind was about to shatter into pieces the way that my heart has, so many times.
I truly felt like I was losing my grip on reality,
and one of the main reasons for that was the impending loss of my Life As I Know It.
It feels so wonderful to have a clear head again, to feel whole, if damaged.
Bruised rather than broken; I will mend.
I just wish I could have it all.
Mostly it feels good to be reconnecting with the core of me, instead of being so confused by all the blame and guilt and pain.
I spent so much energy trying to assure that I would not be bound to an unhappy life that I ended up pretty unhappy.
And now...
I feel calm.
It has been one month since the day I was supposed to move out and I was invited back for the final time.
This has been a good month.
Slow, steady progress.
I want to succeed and press onward with school.
I want to graduate, even if it's more than ten years after my friends got their first degrees, most of whom have second or third degrees now.
The greatest hope I have is when I feel that I have a partner in parenting; I relish his involvement in the most important part of my life.
We are building new habits and I hope they last.

Boy, oh boy, what a process this has been.

Torn--

between wanting to bask in the lazy, warm nothing of summer forever
and
needing the kids to be back in school to save my sanity!
They are growing tired of so much freedom, and of each other's constant company.
This is the way of school aged children; I do not feel unique in this regard.
I just can't believe how fast the summer has moved.
Utah is weird (for many reasons, but I'll try not to get sidetracked).
It is so hot here in August that when school starts it is still TOTALLY summer.
It's been in the 90s and 100s for most of the summer this year, which is a little unusual, but it is making it extra hard to get in the right frame of mind for going back to school.
I am still tweaking my schedule for classes, but I will nail it down tonight.
I had myself scheduled for 5 days a week, but I am chickening out.
It is an hour and a half round trip, including the walk to and from the car, and I'd just rather not be committed to making that journey EVERY day.
So I've switched to a 8:30 to 12:40, back to back classes schedule.
My biggest hang up with this new schedule is that the first class of the day is a PE class--circuit training for 2 credits, hell yeah!
But...that means I'll have 15 minutes to shower, dress, and walk to my next class...
Ugh.
I'm a pretty low maintenance gal, so I'm sure it'll be fine, I just have to wrap my head around it.
One of the other new additions is a Philosophy class on logic which will count for my remaining math credit.
I tend to grasp mathematical concepts easily, so I'm not too worried about it, and it'll be a nice change from all the English classes.
Hopefully.

I'm sure that was riveting.

I bought a Pearl Jam album on Monday.
Lost Dogs.
When I put in the first disk I felt very disoriented; it did NOT sound like Pearl Jam.
At all.
It was great, but not very Vedder.
But then Yellow Ledbetter came on and I cranked it and wailed with him and all was right in my world.

An update on the new black car:
I.
Must.
Drive.
It.
I am flooded with adrenaline when I'm behind the wheel of that thing!
For anyone interested in car stuff it's a C32 AMG Kompressor.
I guess that is why the engine purrs like a happy lion...
And that is why I purr like a happy kitty when I drive it.
I have requested joint custody, so we'll see.
I think it's a reasonable request that I get to take the car once or twice a week.
Otherwise I'll end up stealing it and running away to Mexico to have a secret love affair with it!
I mean, I still love my Volvo, but...
I must admit this black fella is much closer to my True Love.
It purrs I tell ya, purrs!!!

Ahem.

I jotted down some stuff the other day that came out like poetry, so here it is, if you're into that sorta thing:

Cries should be rushing out of me--
aural evidence of my sadness.
But they lie tangled in my throat,
Strong hands leave them strangled in my throat.

***

I wander through the terrain of my mind
and find
the path has become tortuous,
the way out is now torturous.
This landscape is alien--
I fear that I have never been here before.

***
And then I wrote a freaky little beginning of a book that sounds way too dark for me, but I may end up using it some day.

I have so much more to say, but it does no good for me to dwell on the things that hurt me.
I will find solid ground again.

This just in--

Me.
I just got in, that is.
We had planned to go to a B&B in the mountains next weekend to celebrate our anniversary, but our plans changed and we went this weekend and it was loverly.
Beautiful spot, delicious food, fantastic sex, fun excursions.
Unbeatable.

Last week sort of blew chunks, though.

Helped my best friend pack her moving truck, and babysat a couple of my nephews, both activities culminating on Friday morning.
And then...my mother-in-law called to suggest that we take our trip later that day.
It all became rather clusterfucked before it was settled, but it worked out great, so I guess I just can't complain.
Or shouldn't...

Today we golfed, and man, had I forgotten how much I love being on the golf course!
I'm not that great at it, but I'm improving and I have the best teacher, so that helps.
Mr. Anderson is an exceptional golfer.
He's an exceptional athlete all-around, for that matter.
He his unnaturally good reflexes and I have unnaturally poor ones, so it's usually kind of dissatisfactory for us to play sports together.
Golf works out much better than raquetball...

Today marks the one year anniversary of the motorcycle accident which stole our brother from us, so that is where my thoughts are today.
If I can recover from my day in the hot sun I just might drive the sleek black car down to leave some yellow roses for him.

I am distracted by another, poetic loss today as well.
When is it going to be enough?
Will I ever be good enough?
I think Soon and Yes, respectively, but still I sigh.

I am happy.
I have made the right decision for my future.
This is my life, I chose it, and I will live it.

I really ought to see what I can do about the ads

They seem to be rather...
themed.

****

So anyway.
Mr. husband bought a new car this week--
FINALLY.
I've been wishing he would treat himself to one for so long.
I am thrilled with his choice and can't wait to steal the black, sleek,
German thing from him at every possible occasion.
As long as the little hood ornament doesn't get stolen, we'll be pleased.
Yes, I'm referring to a Mercedes.
How pretentious is that???
He's such a low-key guy that I'm sort of shocked that he would deign to drive such a flashy vehicle, but it is 4 or 5 years old, so I guess that tones it down a bit.
We took it for a drive a couple of nights ago, just to enjoy it and we ended up driving all the way around Utah Lake--the long way.
Let me see if I can find you a map so you can fully appreciate the length of our journey.
I'll show you our intended route and our actual route.
(the red line is our actual route, but then we had to drive east to Santaquin and take the freeway back to Salt Lake City...our intended route was to turn at Fairfield, go through Lehi and back to Salt Lake...)

It was dark and starry and lovely out there,
and we enjoyed the serenity of the heavy blackness.
Once we rounded a bend to abruptly come upon a large owl in the middle of our lane.
Fortunately there were only about 4 other cars on that road the whole night, and the owl has better instincts than a deer, so we avoided collision.
There were jack rabbits aplenty, and one little field mouse type of a creature bounced across our path, but we never hit anything.
Our next surprise came when we were rounding another bend, after we had discovered we were in Eureka (which, incidentally, did not make us shout, "Eureka! I have found it!", but instead remark, "Aw, fuck. We're in EUREKA???").
A large, black beef-cattle lay, bloody side up, across our entire lane.
That one scared the hell out of us, but again we were lucky that there was no oncoming traffic.
Christ.
These events all added up to make me acutely aware of the fact that I have long since outgrown my daredevil ways.
I used to go 90 whenever possible.
I used to change my clothes while driving 90 whenever necessary.
And I thought I was invincible.
I guess that's what they mean by The Stupidity of Youth.
Or whatever they call it.
Anyway.

Today is the day that my best friend is moving to Virginia.
It finally hit me a couple of days ago that she's really going to be gone and it was highly unpleasant, to put it mildly.
She is my biggest link to my past right now--the one person who has known me since I was 13 who is still a big part of my life.
I feel quite lost at the moment.
And very, very lonely.
Well...I would feel lonely if my house didn't have FIVE little boys in it right now.
Gah.
Ok, I'm off to play Monop-yu-ly with Max.
That'll cheer us all up!!

Whoa.
I just got off the phone with my credit card company.
I've been identity thieved!!!
Well, not entirely.
Just this one card.
The woman I bought the painting from actually tipped me off,
by alerting me that the rarely used, $3000 limit card was declined.
At first I just assumed she had had trouble processing it and gave her my debit card number instead.
But when we checked the on-line statement we discovered about $2500 dollars in charges that we didn't make!!
They are obvious--several were made in Utah while we were in Maine, and the rest are in the $100-200 range at gas stations.
It's MY card and I never go into a gas station and buy extra stuff, and even with the atrocious prices they're charging for gas these days, my tank-filling prices is capped at under $60 (just barely!).
So I know those charges aren't ours either.
FUCKERS!!!
I am sort of ranckled about it, but god bless the credit card companies for taking the liability!
If you get two grand in cash stolen there's no one to reimburse you, ya know?
But still.
I want to punch them in the nuts.
Gaaaaaaaah!

7th row, baby!

The moment they took the stage I felt the thrill of witnessing one of rock's Legends shudder through my body.
I am not specifically a Rush Fan, but I enjoyed every second of their finely tuned and energetic performance.
You don't have to know their songs to feel the heat coming off the strings of that bass.
I recently read a book Neil Peart wrote about his bicycle trip through West Africa, so his was the most familiar face to me.
I couldn't shake the Ozzy Osbourne meets John Lennon look of Geddy himself, but it made him feel more familiar, which was cool.



I took a little self-portrait of Mr. and I, but the sun kepting jumping up and down behind us holding up rabbit ears, trying to ruin the shot.
Fucking SUN!

I darkened it up a bit because I think it's a cool shot of us anyway.

Two weeks from yesterday my classes will start.
One week later the kids start school.
Here.
We.
Gooooooooooo!

Oh, what a busy weekend it has been!

And it's not over yet!
Mr. and I are going on a date tonight.
(I would put an exclamation point there, because I'm excited about it, but I can't feel good about ending 3 sentences in a row in such a spazzy manner. Sorry.)

On Friday I made this blueberry pie, which may have been the best one I've ever made, to date:

Yes, those are lobsters...




Oh, I just can't even tell you how much fun yesterday was!
(crap, there's another one...well, fuck it. Just know that every time I use one, it's sincere, ok? Ok.)
So J. and I went shopping yesterday in Park City.
There are outlet stores there, which turned out to be
way
more
fun
than I had thought it would be!
Were the stores a bit crowded?
Sure.
The prices, however, were just lovely.
I had a bit of an orgie with Ann, Tommy, Calvin and a bunch of others without such easily anthropomorphizable names.
Heh.
Hey, the kids needed school clothes, and so did I!
I just figured out why high maintenance chicks are so bitchy, though--
it's because shopping really takes it outta ya.
Damn.
We were exhausted!
Carrying around all those bags all afternoon, from store to store to store to store...
whew.

But that was FAR from the best part.
The best part was after the other awesome part, but hold on, let me do this in order.
So then, weary and hungry and with a car full of bags, we headed for Park City's Main St. where the Arts Fest was underway.
I was in search for My Artist!
But first we needed dinner.
So we paid $84 to park right next to our favorite italian place as a huge splurge because it would be our Going Away dinner of sorts, only to find out that they were inexplicably--and unexplainedly--closed.
CLOSED.
On a Saturday, in a tourist town, during an Arts Festival???
Whatever.
So then we kept walking and inadvertently got into the Arts Fest for free--
I swear we were just looking for an open restaurant!
Anyway, we ended up walking about halfway up the street (the center of which was filled with the artists' booths) before seeing a place that was both open and inviting.
It was a little dollop of serendipity on the top of our exquisite day--
the best salmon I've tasted in years, with outdoor seating and an impressive wine list.
When we finished eating we had about 30 minutes to finish cruising the artist booths in an attempt to find The Artist.
Just 3 or 4 small tents beyond our restaurant, and there she was!
So we looked at her paintings and I told her I had come here specifically to see her paintings and to try to get my husband on board with buying one.
When I found the one I wanted, she urged me to take it home so I could let him see if he loved it, too!!
So I did.
(she kept my credit card info so she could just run it when I decided and, obviously, as protection against theft)


And he agreed that it is stunning!



And we are going to keep it!!
I can't even describe the euphoria I am experiencing still.
She is only the second artist who has so moved me, and the first will be my second acquisition.
There were other artists there whose work I would be thrilled to possess, but we must start somewhere, and why not start with my favorite?

So then today I got the wild notion of putting on my Fairy Godmother(fucker) costume and getting a better shot of it.

What do you think?
I have wings!
And don't give Red Bull the credit, they're all my spirit.

Somewhere over the rainbow--

(and I don't mean casino!)

That's where you'll find me.
Or something.
I am still not feeling very writey, but oddly enough this place feels familiar and anonymous all at the same time!!!
Wild.



Coolest Hard Rain moment last night, just moments after we finished erecting (heh-heh, I said "erect"!!) our new porch swing.
Well, not a porch swing per se, because it's not on the porch, but I'm not sure what else to call it.
Like this, only nicer.
But cheaper.
How 'bout that?
Gotta love Clearance sales!
I've been neeeeding one of these for a very long time and I am just bubbling over with joy at the prospect of relaxing on it every evening from now until the snow flies.

Today marks the final day of my Help-J-With-Her-Dissertation-Research Saga.
It's been fun, and I loved doing it, but my kids are sure glad it's over!
They have been seriously missing me, since it's been taking a big chunk out of my waking time.
I can't believe she's actually
really
truly
moving 2,000 miles away.
That's like, 4.3 billion kilometers or something.
Wah. Sniff. Pout.

On the plus side, I bought a book called something like "How To Figure Out What You Want to Be When You Grow Up, You Stupid, Stupid Girl--What Are You, Like, 14 YEARS POST HIGH SCHOOL NOW???"
It'll be fun.
It'll probably just give me even more career options to not be able to choose between.
Writer?
Chef?
Porno Actress????
Ha.
Sorry, those were just the highlights of my strengths...

Life is good--here.

In Maryland a new life entered my closest extended family:
a tiny little baby boy, completing the set for my sister and I.
Our combined four sons have all been born in the second half of July!
Some day we will live near each other and have joint birthday parties--
and even further down the road, they may all party together and have joints, but that's anotherh story!

And in Ohio a dear friend lost her father to the relentless armies of cancerous cells which would simply not stop marching against him.
At a mere 40 years old she is now completely orphaned.
I ache for her losses, reminded to cherish my own dear parents.

And so is the circle of life...

The answer is obvious

I am, once again, a housewife.
Bored?
Eh.
Not usually.
But...
for some reason this site is calling to me again.
Like the last doughnut from its perch on a sun drenched countertop.
Or a crisp 50 in a smoking pocket.
Or my phone.
No, really, my phone is ringing; hold on.

I have stories.
Bloggable stories!
And yet, I haven't been blogging.
I just wasn't feeling it.
And maybe I'm still not, but for the moment I am here and I'm feeling like writing.
Etc.
Or whatever.

So a couple of days ago my husband took my Volvo (a.k.a The Vulva) in for its scheduled maintenance (a.k.a I had my period...just kidding, we really talking about the car here!!) and they informed him it was 60,000 mile tune up time AND we were getting new tires.
He walked out of there about $1500 lighter.
I hate dealer service prices.
The cost of the maintenace was $800.
For a maintenance run???
Bah.
I guess I'm not used to owning a car that's worth the effort.
This one is.
And I can't believe I've put 25,000 miles on it in 10 months...
how the hell did I do that??
oh, maybe it was more like 20, but still.
Sheesh.
It does, incidentally, drive like a knife through warm butter now.
I have never stopped wanting to make sweet love to that car, and I am more in love with it than ever right now.

Um...
I thought I said I had bloggable stories??
Well, here's one:
The other night we put the kids to bed and almost immediately started going at it like teenagers on meth, and 20 minutes later or so the kids knocked on the door.
We halted activities and breathlessly asked what they needed.
They hemmed and hawed and we let them in and they were laughing and they wanted a drink and maybe a snack and blah blah blah.
They asked us what we were doing...
we shamelessly lied to them and told them that we were just playing tackle and Dad was tickling me...ok, so we left out part of it, but that was basically what was happening!!!
And then Max said, "How can your children sleep if you're playing tackle and SCREAMING???"
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
Busted.

I took my husband's wedding band in and had an inscription put on the inside of it.
The jeweler got very serious and said, "You are putting that on this ring?"
I affirmed.
"That is beautiful (still very serious). More people in the world should feel that way about someone."
Aw....
It was so cute, but I still can't shake her intensity.

Um...
I think I had more stories.
Oh well, that's enough for one day.

Tonight hubby is going out with friends so I think I'll play WoW with his ten year old.
Tomorrow night we're having friends over to celebrate his birthday and the birthday of one of the women in the group.
I'm making gourmet pizzas from scratch (I'm big into bread dough lately; don't ask) and an ice cream cake.
Sounds like a kids party until you see the fresh mozzarella and the fanciness of the cake...
I am burning him a (purchased) downloaded CD he was asking for right now.
We're going to go shopping together to buy him some new clothes (and hopefully me, too....I'm such a brat...most of his presents are for me: cologne, toys, tickets to the one-man Star Wars trilogy, The Departed...).
And on Sunday we'll take the kids to see an IMAX movie at the planetarium and go eat smoewhere fun and have cake, etc.
I love birthdays!

Hope you all have a great weekend!

4 years....

Today marks the 4 year anniversary of my very first post.

I love the story of how I started blogging,

because it is a story of intense curiosity, mild crushes, and the start of my writing "career."

Having this blog changed me.

I would say for the better, because it has stretched my horizons so wide that my sun sets and rises on the same plane.

I wish I had The Bored Housewife Chronicles ready, so I could celebrate this day by giving away some copies, but I don't.

I have not planned ahead at all.

But I will be celebrating in my heart, and I hope that you will join me!

I could go on and on and wax sentimental, but I think I'll keep it brief.

It's been surreal.

Here is my first post:

December 19, 2002 1:43am

So now that I have the page up and running, I have run out of things to say. No, it can't be. I have never before run out of things to say. I think the pressure's just on. Let me introduce myself, just in case anyone decides to read this. My name is Lisa and I'm a housewife in the western United States, Utah, to be precise. I'm a New England native, and frightfully proud of it. Utah is pretty fun, but I miss the ocean, good seafood, good bars, and, well, lots of other things--including Dunkin Donuts...yum. I have 2 year old twin boys, which is why I get to be a housewife. They are so much fun, and you'll probably end up hearing about them from time to time, but not to a Kathie Lee extent, I promise. The only other thing I have going on in my life is daily trips to the gym--trying hard to get my pre-child-bearing body back...going pretty well, and I enjoy the diversion, so it's a good thing. Also, I'm writing a novel. That is a trip. Okay, so I guess that's all you need to know for now. I'll get on to the good stuff.

Since it's the middle of the night, and I'm not even sure if this is going to work, I'm going to be lazy today. I'm going to post some excerpts from emails i wrote earlier today. yes, I'm lazy. It's 1:32 am and i have to get up in a while. i'll be less lazy next time i post. i swear. a lot, actually.

Going out is pretty lame around here, anyway. Try living in the fucking bible belt of the rockies. There are about 100,000 people in this county and guess how many bars? Just guess. I want to hear a number, god damn it. No, you’re wrong. There are 8. Yup. Most of them are total red-neck, cowboy dives, too. And live music? Shit. That’s what there is for live music. It’s a sad, sad thing. The other sucky thing about going out here is that there are virtually no restaurants that are not national chains. Except for Mexican—there is definitely good Mexican here. Perhaps that’s because there are lots of Mexicans here. Uh, anyway, the food here sucks and so do the bars, but we manage to have a great time anyway. Like, last weekend we went to some Elk’s club function (talk about rednecks and cowboys—and OLD PEOPLE!!!!) to see a friend of a friend do some belly dancing. That was a good time. And there are some truly phenomenal outdoorsy things to do. Like the hot springs—nature’s hot tub nestled in the top of a mountain, bubbling up from a river, with a waterfall pouring in…It’s so amazing. That is probably my favorite thing to do here. Especially since there are usually a bunch of fat, 40-ish naked white guys enjoying the soak with you…the funniest part about that, since we live in the aforementioned bible belt, is that there are signs all the way up the 2 mile trail warning of possible nude bathers. I ruefully laugh every time I see those signs. To me they mean, “If you don’t like it, leave!!!” Prudish assholes.

It doesn't usually get as cold here, and there has never once been a blizzard. It cracks me up, though, because anytime there's a snowstorm people will say it's a blizzard, and really it's just snowing. That's all--32 degrees, no wind, and a lot of snow gently falling. Blizzard? Shoah. No one drives right in the snow either. They tailgate and speed in the middle of a snow storm. It makes me very nervous. They don't put sand down, either. They plow, but there's tons of roads and not enough snowplows (in my opinion), and they always wait until it stops snowing. So, no, we don't get storms like Maine. No ice storms either, which I LOVE!! Nothing is more beautiful than the morning after an ice storm with the whole world sparkling. The skiing is good here, and it's nice to have mild winters.

Okay, I guess that's it for now. Not much in the way of a great first post, but hey, I gotta set the bar low, so I have somewhere to go.

(can you tell the email I ripped off was to a friend in Maine?? It was to the friend who was unknowingly responsible for my discovery of blogging and NaNoWriMo...and on whom I had a bit of a crush. hee...)



Thanks for playing.
I wonder how many of us will still be blogging in 4 more years?

Come See me!

My new blog is Lucky, Lucky Star


You could also click here, if you want to feed my stupid ego.

Ahem

Ok, so there were a lovely bunch of you who requested directions to the new place, back before I had decided where to go.
However.
Not a one of ya left an email address.
This I discovered after crafting the following email to send to you:

Hi everyone!

Sorry I took so long to get this out to you, I just wasn’t really sure what the final decision was going to be. Hell, I’m still not sure. But for now, Lucky Star is it. Thank you all so much for wanting to continue on this rollercoaster-on-crack journey of mine! I wish I had more time to read blogs…there are so many of you that I don’t read enough and I miss you.

Feel free to link me; I’m not hiding so much as finding some breathing room. ?

Be well.
Party on, Wayne.

Starsarelucky.blogspot.com

You guys are a bunch of dumbasses.
Good thing I'm one, too!!!
Love ya.
I guess I'll have to work to get the word out, and that's never a good thing for me.
Lay
Zee.
...kinda like Jay-Z...but less motivated and mogul-esque.

Ok, then.
I'm off.
Like your MOM's prom dress!