wow.
it's another year already,
and i haven't even changed any of my bad habits from last year.
oh well.
who needs self-improvement?
that shit's for the weak.
me?
i'll gladly sloth and glutton my way through this year,
just like i did last year,
and the year before.
and the 20-plus before that.
if it's not broke, don't fix it, right?
...but what about if it's poor grammar--can i fix it then?
"if it's not broken, don't fix it"
much better.
you know what i would like to do for this year's first and only resolution?
i would like to go to every GOD DAMNED grocery store in this country
and.
hand-paint over their stupid fucking grammatically incorrect signs.
TEN ITEMS OR FEWER.*
come on, people.
it's not that hard.
okay, well.
i began writing this earlier...
and now i've been distracted by motherly and (not the fun kind of)** wifely duties,
so i've lost my train of thought.
i'm a perpetual de-railer.
my train of thought's rail company is constantly giving refunds on tickets.
and i really truly don't do drugs--
can ya believe it??
so.
the episode of Law & Order which is currently attempting to disturb me
(yes, of its own free will)
has just reminded me that not only are Romanian women devastatingly beautiful,
but so are the men.
raaaawr.
(i couldn't find ANY pictures of romanian men. maybe my diagnosis is incorrect...)
and...
i can't believe the Jerry Orbach passed away.
just 3 days ago--
he is one of my favorite actors--
who doesn't love Baby's dad?
so sad...
so i'm off to enjoy a rather laid back evening of celebration.
i'm planning to not even drink.
and no, just FYI, this isn't a problem for me--
either drinking or not.
i'm lucky that it's not, surely.
but i just don't feel like drinking to the point of drunkenness.
i will probably dance.
not naked, not on a table.
but i will dance.
and play some pool.
and make people laugh.
cuz that's what i do.
so i hope you all have the most fabulous time for yourselves tonight--
whether you stay in, or go out, party or cuddle,
whether you are alone or swarmed...
i hope it is a happy time for each of you.
this really has been a wonderful year for me,
and i plan to make each of the following ones even better.
and myself along with them (however grudgingly, hehe)
HAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPY NEW YEAR, KIDS!!!!
_____________________________________
* "If you can count them, use fewer." from Lynch's Guide to Grammar
** UPDATE: may now check "wifely duties of the fun kind" off the list for today...waking a husband who worked all night and is napping with a FANTASTIC b.j. is one of the things i do best.
Friday, December 31, 2004
I love poker
Especially when I win.
But even when I don't.
Texas Hold 'em--
cuz it's the "thing" right now.
3 tournaments.
I came out big winner.
hours and hours of entertainment.
and...
once again proving that i'm "one of the guys"...
but sexier.
heh.
after that, a couple of hours of black jack.
only bought $5 in chips, but that lasted me an hour.
so it was well worth it.
one of the brothers (of my husband's 5) got a gorgeous set of clay chips for x-mas.
so that's why.
didn't even imbibe.
yes, i'm rather impressed with myself, too.
husband got called in to work, though.
right at the end.
right before i won the pot.
so i had to stay.
and now i can't think straight.
so i'll go.
to sleep?
maybe.
But even when I don't.
Texas Hold 'em--
cuz it's the "thing" right now.
3 tournaments.
I came out big winner.
hours and hours of entertainment.
and...
once again proving that i'm "one of the guys"...
but sexier.
heh.
after that, a couple of hours of black jack.
only bought $5 in chips, but that lasted me an hour.
so it was well worth it.
one of the brothers (of my husband's 5) got a gorgeous set of clay chips for x-mas.
so that's why.
didn't even imbibe.
yes, i'm rather impressed with myself, too.
husband got called in to work, though.
right at the end.
right before i won the pot.
so i had to stay.
and now i can't think straight.
so i'll go.
to sleep?
maybe.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Fantasy Friday
early again...
and who doesn't love an early woody?
or morning wood for that matter.
or wood of any kind--am i right, girls?
I did not write this one, so it doesn't get a number.
This is a guest post, of sorts...
It is something that was written about me, for me...
a while ago.
by a very dear friend.
Black Leather, White Lace
The engine thumps lazily below me, as the bike rolls onto the dark pavement. The bright, white light of the garage is replaced by the dull, bathing fog of the sodium street lamps. The heavily distorted notes of Thorogood's "Born to be Bad" slip into my thoughts, and I smile...
Easy Rider?
More like Cheesy Bastard.
The peaceful slumber of the suburban night is disturbed momentarily as it rolls beneath my wheels. Five minutes of patience brings me to the freeway. And now, at last, the throttle opens and the thunder of the V-twin engine tears a hole in the thick velvet curtain of the night. The inky blackness of the unlit freeway rushes up and engulfs me...
Two hours and 170 miles pass by, taken only by thoughts of you. The roar of the charging motorcycle becomes once again, a steady heart-beat, as the speed of the freeway is left behind like a shed skin.
As I turn into your street, the kill switch extinguishes my faithful steed, and I roll silently along the kerb. The peace remains unbroken as the brakes bring me to a halt outside your house.
I sit for a moment, as the cooling engine 'pinks' quietly. A deep breath... I close my eyes...
When I open them, I am at the foot of your bed. The solitary shape that lays beneath covers confirms that you are alone.
I lift the covers gently to reveal your sleeping face; The dark curls of your hair lay like ebony splinters on the white pillow. The warmth of your sleeping body reaches out and caresses my cool skin. I pull the bed covers right back, and you now lay before me...
The night dress you are wearing has ridden up during your sleep, revealing the white lace panties that briefly cover your pussy. My pulse thumps heavily through my body as I sit on the bed. I lean over to kiss you, and you stir. Your eyes open slightly, and for the barest instant, a voice screams in my head.
This was a mistake.
But then, you smile. And I know it wasn't.
You sit up slightly, and the smile is broken as your mouth opens to meet mine.
I lift the night dress over your head, but twist the material quickly, before you have time to take your hands out. I now have your hands tied behind your head, and I drop you back onto the bed.
Only the lace protects your dignity now, and your breasts stand ready for my attention. I straddle your body, caring not that my motorcycle boots deposit road dirt in streaks across the white bed linen.
As my hand moves to your breast, the cold, black leather of my jacket brushes your nipple, and my fingers reach it to find the skin hard and erect.
I kiss you again, deeper than before. And we connect. The heat of your body seems to rush into me, causing my cock to press stiffly against the material of my jeans.
My hand slides down across your navel, the rough tips of my fingers teasing the flawless skin. I feel the edge of the material as my fingers slip under it. The lace against the back of my hand contrasts the silky feel of your pussy hair against my palm. My fingers find the soft, moist skin of your labia...
The air hisses between your teeth as you breathe in deeply, your back arches as my fingers slip deeply into you. I kiss your neck, but as your body sways rhythmically in time with the movement of my fingers, the kisses become nibbles, become bites.
I kiss your breasts and my mouth finds a nipple, which I suck and tease with my tongue. You gasp and your body stiffens. I feel your pussy squeeze down on my fingers. And you become limp again.
I let go of the night dress, so that your hands are free. I slip the now dampened lace panties from your hips and discard them. You reach for my jeans. I say nothing, but smile as I move your hand away. Not yet...
You lay expectantly on the bed, one hand on your navel, the other above your head. Your legs are parted so that I can see the glistening of your lips. I raise them slightly and move them further apart. You gasp again as my lips come down to kiss your pussy.
Taste and smell of you is intoxicating. I have concentrate to stop myself from lapping eagerly at you. But I manage it, and continue to kiss and lick slowly at the wet flesh, all the time my nose nuzzles your clit.
Again, you move in time to my actions. Again, your arched back tells me it's working...
Now it's your turn. As I move up your body, you wrap your legs around me and I am unable to stop you from rolling me over.
You sit astride me, one hand pressing against my chest. It's a token gesture, but I'm game. The other hand finds the buckle on my heavy leather belt, and you deftly relieve me of it. The jeans are next, and I aid you a little by moving them down my legs.
My cock is standing-to, and you lift yourself over me. It seems like forever that you float above me, and then you drop.
I slide deep into you, and a heat drowns me from inside. We are FUCKING. This isn't making love, this is raw, uncivilised, PURE.
When I come, I imagine this must be how it feels to be a volcano. It starts deep down, a distant stirring, slowly becoming stronger. The feeling grows, but stays deep inside until, for a moment everything goes black.
Then I explode into you, and I feel you come too. We both drop exhausted on to the bed.
You wake with a start.
You sit up, bleary eyed.
You are alone.
Could it have been a dream?
Your head drops back to the pillow. As you doze off you think you hear the roll of distant thunder...
********
and if I don't see you again before new year's--
have a happy and safe one!
(see ya next year-har har har)
and who doesn't love an early woody?
or morning wood for that matter.
or wood of any kind--am i right, girls?
I did not write this one, so it doesn't get a number.
This is a guest post, of sorts...
It is something that was written about me, for me...
a while ago.
by a very dear friend.
Black Leather, White Lace
The engine thumps lazily below me, as the bike rolls onto the dark pavement. The bright, white light of the garage is replaced by the dull, bathing fog of the sodium street lamps. The heavily distorted notes of Thorogood's "Born to be Bad" slip into my thoughts, and I smile...
Easy Rider?
More like Cheesy Bastard.
The peaceful slumber of the suburban night is disturbed momentarily as it rolls beneath my wheels. Five minutes of patience brings me to the freeway. And now, at last, the throttle opens and the thunder of the V-twin engine tears a hole in the thick velvet curtain of the night. The inky blackness of the unlit freeway rushes up and engulfs me...
Two hours and 170 miles pass by, taken only by thoughts of you. The roar of the charging motorcycle becomes once again, a steady heart-beat, as the speed of the freeway is left behind like a shed skin.
As I turn into your street, the kill switch extinguishes my faithful steed, and I roll silently along the kerb. The peace remains unbroken as the brakes bring me to a halt outside your house.
I sit for a moment, as the cooling engine 'pinks' quietly. A deep breath... I close my eyes...
When I open them, I am at the foot of your bed. The solitary shape that lays beneath covers confirms that you are alone.
I lift the covers gently to reveal your sleeping face; The dark curls of your hair lay like ebony splinters on the white pillow. The warmth of your sleeping body reaches out and caresses my cool skin. I pull the bed covers right back, and you now lay before me...
The night dress you are wearing has ridden up during your sleep, revealing the white lace panties that briefly cover your pussy. My pulse thumps heavily through my body as I sit on the bed. I lean over to kiss you, and you stir. Your eyes open slightly, and for the barest instant, a voice screams in my head.
This was a mistake.
But then, you smile. And I know it wasn't.
You sit up slightly, and the smile is broken as your mouth opens to meet mine.
I lift the night dress over your head, but twist the material quickly, before you have time to take your hands out. I now have your hands tied behind your head, and I drop you back onto the bed.
Only the lace protects your dignity now, and your breasts stand ready for my attention. I straddle your body, caring not that my motorcycle boots deposit road dirt in streaks across the white bed linen.
As my hand moves to your breast, the cold, black leather of my jacket brushes your nipple, and my fingers reach it to find the skin hard and erect.
I kiss you again, deeper than before. And we connect. The heat of your body seems to rush into me, causing my cock to press stiffly against the material of my jeans.
My hand slides down across your navel, the rough tips of my fingers teasing the flawless skin. I feel the edge of the material as my fingers slip under it. The lace against the back of my hand contrasts the silky feel of your pussy hair against my palm. My fingers find the soft, moist skin of your labia...
The air hisses between your teeth as you breathe in deeply, your back arches as my fingers slip deeply into you. I kiss your neck, but as your body sways rhythmically in time with the movement of my fingers, the kisses become nibbles, become bites.
I kiss your breasts and my mouth finds a nipple, which I suck and tease with my tongue. You gasp and your body stiffens. I feel your pussy squeeze down on my fingers. And you become limp again.
I let go of the night dress, so that your hands are free. I slip the now dampened lace panties from your hips and discard them. You reach for my jeans. I say nothing, but smile as I move your hand away. Not yet...
You lay expectantly on the bed, one hand on your navel, the other above your head. Your legs are parted so that I can see the glistening of your lips. I raise them slightly and move them further apart. You gasp again as my lips come down to kiss your pussy.
Taste and smell of you is intoxicating. I have concentrate to stop myself from lapping eagerly at you. But I manage it, and continue to kiss and lick slowly at the wet flesh, all the time my nose nuzzles your clit.
Again, you move in time to my actions. Again, your arched back tells me it's working...
Now it's your turn. As I move up your body, you wrap your legs around me and I am unable to stop you from rolling me over.
You sit astride me, one hand pressing against my chest. It's a token gesture, but I'm game. The other hand finds the buckle on my heavy leather belt, and you deftly relieve me of it. The jeans are next, and I aid you a little by moving them down my legs.
My cock is standing-to, and you lift yourself over me. It seems like forever that you float above me, and then you drop.
I slide deep into you, and a heat drowns me from inside. We are FUCKING. This isn't making love, this is raw, uncivilised, PURE.
When I come, I imagine this must be how it feels to be a volcano. It starts deep down, a distant stirring, slowly becoming stronger. The feeling grows, but stays deep inside until, for a moment everything goes black.
Then I explode into you, and I feel you come too. We both drop exhausted on to the bed.
You wake with a start.
You sit up, bleary eyed.
You are alone.
Could it have been a dream?
Your head drops back to the pillow. As you doze off you think you hear the roll of distant thunder...
********
and if I don't see you again before new year's--
have a happy and safe one!
(see ya next year-har har har)
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
I think I fell into a rabbit hole today
kind of like the one Alice fell into...
only...
fewer psychedelic drugs, talking animals and well, rabbits.
but otherwise, it was strikingly similar.
first lunch, then hair dyeing.
a success, generally.
we giggled a lot--
and laughed even more.
i even snorted once.
my eyebrows are either way too dark or way too bushy.
i'll have to fuck with them.
and it was either some strange coincidence, or the dress code required the stylists to all wear black.
there was the most gorgeous little girl with dreadlocks.
tall, pale thing, with dark dreads down her back.
very pretty--
i was dying to watch her for long enough to feel her personality so i could write more about her.
and there were several oddly non-gay male stylists.
AND.
it took over 5 hours for 2 girls to do Becky's hair.
which was, apparently, not a surprise to Becky.
the 3 hours it took to trim less than an inch off her friend's hair was a bit strange, though.
MY hair was the fastest.
thank god, cuz i woulda freaked.
when my hair was finished, i went next door and worked out--
smartie fartie Lisa took her gym clothes and ipod to the salon.
even if i had dark splotches near my hairline from the dye...
yaaay!
oh, and as i headed over there, my phone rang.
some people wanted to come see our house (which is sorta still for sale)...
in an HOUR.
there were 2 extra kids here, plus my step son, which made FIVE kids.
and a teenage babysiter...
and i had no way to get here and clean up before they arrived.
oh well.
they were warned.
...watch 'em make an offer.
"fifty cents?"
heh.
so anyway.
i thought i would pass out from sheer boredom before leaving that place.
but i didn't.
i also thought i might get a little loopy from all the chemicals.
i mighta.
and there was much chaos after that.
but i'll leave it out.
i'll only mention that it included me eating 4 pieces of pizza, 2 breadsticks and a piece of cheesecake.
what the fuck's the matter with me????
well, i was hungry.
my brain is numb.
all i can think about are the girls who did our hair.
and how funny becky looked with tinfoil all over her head.
and how loooooooong C.'s hair is.
and that one stylist whose ass kept hanging out of her pants.
and NOT in a good way.
(but really, IS there a good way??)
i need my husband to get home so he can fuck me.
only...
that offer expired a couple of hours ago.
god damn estrogen. or progesterone.
or whatever the fuck is responsible for this annoyance.
are you glad i shared that?
good.
i hope you're blushing, or squirming or disgusted.
nah.
i do hope you're living life to the fullest, though.
--whatever that may mean to you.
and i hope that you're not too hard on yourselves.
and that you believe you deserve the best.
i hope you haven't settled, or that you're not willing to.
i hope you figure out that being happy doesn't mean every day is perfection.
i hope you remember to give, gladly, of your time and talents.
i also hope you don't let others take advantage of you.
and one more, for me...
i hope i can find a time in the day to have some peace, some quiet every day.
so that i can be a better me, or a better man,
...possibly even all that i can be, in the army or something similar.
what i should do, is less crack.
did that joke go out in the 90's?
well.
i worked with this kid once, at a restaurant, who said stuff like that ALL the time.
he was funny--in a good way.
one day he didn't show up to work.
...he had been pulled over and found in possession of a bunch of CRACK, and had escaped custody and was missing/wanted.
wow.
can you say...."Lisa's clueless"?
he joked about crack, so i assumed that he had no experience.
that's when the whole "ass out of you and me" policy comes into play.
dammmmmit, my neck hurts.
i think it is jealous of the head massage i got.
NO, SICKOS--not the head massage i GAVE.
got.
received.
on my scalp.
i do give a mean handjob, though.
thanks for asking.
i'm going to go, before i do anymore damage.
only...
fewer psychedelic drugs, talking animals and well, rabbits.
but otherwise, it was strikingly similar.
first lunch, then hair dyeing.
a success, generally.
we giggled a lot--
and laughed even more.
i even snorted once.
my eyebrows are either way too dark or way too bushy.
i'll have to fuck with them.
and it was either some strange coincidence, or the dress code required the stylists to all wear black.
there was the most gorgeous little girl with dreadlocks.
tall, pale thing, with dark dreads down her back.
very pretty--
i was dying to watch her for long enough to feel her personality so i could write more about her.
and there were several oddly non-gay male stylists.
AND.
it took over 5 hours for 2 girls to do Becky's hair.
which was, apparently, not a surprise to Becky.
the 3 hours it took to trim less than an inch off her friend's hair was a bit strange, though.
MY hair was the fastest.
thank god, cuz i woulda freaked.
when my hair was finished, i went next door and worked out--
smartie fartie Lisa took her gym clothes and ipod to the salon.
even if i had dark splotches near my hairline from the dye...
yaaay!
oh, and as i headed over there, my phone rang.
some people wanted to come see our house (which is sorta still for sale)...
in an HOUR.
there were 2 extra kids here, plus my step son, which made FIVE kids.
and a teenage babysiter...
and i had no way to get here and clean up before they arrived.
oh well.
they were warned.
...watch 'em make an offer.
"fifty cents?"
heh.
so anyway.
i thought i would pass out from sheer boredom before leaving that place.
but i didn't.
i also thought i might get a little loopy from all the chemicals.
i mighta.
and there was much chaos after that.
but i'll leave it out.
i'll only mention that it included me eating 4 pieces of pizza, 2 breadsticks and a piece of cheesecake.
what the fuck's the matter with me????
well, i was hungry.
my brain is numb.
all i can think about are the girls who did our hair.
and how funny becky looked with tinfoil all over her head.
and how loooooooong C.'s hair is.
and that one stylist whose ass kept hanging out of her pants.
and NOT in a good way.
(but really, IS there a good way??)
i need my husband to get home so he can fuck me.
only...
that offer expired a couple of hours ago.
god damn estrogen. or progesterone.
or whatever the fuck is responsible for this annoyance.
are you glad i shared that?
good.
i hope you're blushing, or squirming or disgusted.
nah.
i do hope you're living life to the fullest, though.
--whatever that may mean to you.
and i hope that you're not too hard on yourselves.
and that you believe you deserve the best.
i hope you haven't settled, or that you're not willing to.
i hope you figure out that being happy doesn't mean every day is perfection.
i hope you remember to give, gladly, of your time and talents.
i also hope you don't let others take advantage of you.
and one more, for me...
i hope i can find a time in the day to have some peace, some quiet every day.
so that i can be a better me, or a better man,
...possibly even all that i can be, in the army or something similar.
what i should do, is less crack.
did that joke go out in the 90's?
well.
i worked with this kid once, at a restaurant, who said stuff like that ALL the time.
he was funny--in a good way.
one day he didn't show up to work.
...he had been pulled over and found in possession of a bunch of CRACK, and had escaped custody and was missing/wanted.
wow.
can you say...."Lisa's clueless"?
he joked about crack, so i assumed that he had no experience.
that's when the whole "ass out of you and me" policy comes into play.
dammmmmit, my neck hurts.
i think it is jealous of the head massage i got.
NO, SICKOS--not the head massage i GAVE.
got.
received.
on my scalp.
i do give a mean handjob, though.
thanks for asking.
i'm going to go, before i do anymore damage.
Monday, December 27, 2004
I think this is my new template...for now
A quick thank you to those who commented during my brief use of blogger's comments--
i did receive and enjoy the comments, even though they do not appear anymore.
and a huge thank you to Chaz for helping me with the trickier parts of the transition.
yes, darlin', i could have done it myself, but you saved me lots of time.
and now...
a post--
The planets have all realigned.
The constellations, which were gathered in a hasty handful and thrown carelessly across the black sky, have been set right.
The earth is spinning in the proper direction.
My heart has returned to beating in a rhythm of life.
It soars, in fact.
The heaviness of an empty heart...
The ragged edges of a torn soul...
I shall avoid both, at all costs, from now on.
The night has passed.
The birds are singing, the sun is shining--laughingly--in a blue sky.
...what a wonderful world.
I am ready for a fresh start with this blog, I think.
Well, not entirely fresh.
I like me a little mold--and there's always room for fermentation.
heh.
Anyway, you'll see.
More like a clean slate, but without erasing anything.
Just, a change of direction.
or...
something.
I don't know what i'm saying.
and there's nothing new in THAT.
I feel like dancing and singing--
I want to open my soul for you all to see.
the colors are rich and sparkly, and are arranged in layers--
some thick, some thin, and some which come with sound effects.
there is rain in my soul--
life-giving rain, and tear-like rain.
there is the crash of waves against the shore,
and a whistling of wind.
there are all the songs i can't sing on key,
and all the prayers i've ever offered.
and these things are all shuffled together like a drawer full of socks.
...or like stuff shoved under a bed, forgotten.
I love.
had a great workout today.
i figure, if i keep this up,
i could have my shit together by the time i take my lil trip in 3 weeks.
and do you know how great that will be?
3 days in a warmer climate, without my dearest most precious loves--
the kids.
and their cute little skinny legs.
and their great big eyes.
and their...somewhat suffocating love for their crazy mother.
heh.
absence makes a mother's heart grow fonder, that's for sure.
tuesday (tomorrow/today) is hair day.
for me.
and for Becky.
and if you're bald now, and you haven't sent me pictures yet--DO SO.
you know you are, sexy.
but don't put it off any longer because i need to feast my eyes...
and update my fantasy file.
you...
am i done here?
yes.
i believe so.
"have a good day, and give a good day."
--M. Gundel, high school principal.
(my version? have a good day and give some good head. what???)
i did receive and enjoy the comments, even though they do not appear anymore.
and a huge thank you to Chaz for helping me with the trickier parts of the transition.
yes, darlin', i could have done it myself, but you saved me lots of time.
and now...
a post--
The planets have all realigned.
The constellations, which were gathered in a hasty handful and thrown carelessly across the black sky, have been set right.
The earth is spinning in the proper direction.
My heart has returned to beating in a rhythm of life.
It soars, in fact.
The heaviness of an empty heart...
The ragged edges of a torn soul...
I shall avoid both, at all costs, from now on.
The night has passed.
The birds are singing, the sun is shining--laughingly--in a blue sky.
...what a wonderful world.
I am ready for a fresh start with this blog, I think.
Well, not entirely fresh.
I like me a little mold--and there's always room for fermentation.
heh.
Anyway, you'll see.
More like a clean slate, but without erasing anything.
Just, a change of direction.
or...
something.
I don't know what i'm saying.
and there's nothing new in THAT.
I feel like dancing and singing--
I want to open my soul for you all to see.
the colors are rich and sparkly, and are arranged in layers--
some thick, some thin, and some which come with sound effects.
there is rain in my soul--
life-giving rain, and tear-like rain.
there is the crash of waves against the shore,
and a whistling of wind.
there are all the songs i can't sing on key,
and all the prayers i've ever offered.
and these things are all shuffled together like a drawer full of socks.
...or like stuff shoved under a bed, forgotten.
I love.
had a great workout today.
i figure, if i keep this up,
i could have my shit together by the time i take my lil trip in 3 weeks.
and do you know how great that will be?
3 days in a warmer climate, without my dearest most precious loves--
the kids.
and their cute little skinny legs.
and their great big eyes.
and their...somewhat suffocating love for their crazy mother.
heh.
absence makes a mother's heart grow fonder, that's for sure.
tuesday (tomorrow/today) is hair day.
for me.
and for Becky.
and if you're bald now, and you haven't sent me pictures yet--DO SO.
you know you are, sexy.
but don't put it off any longer because i need to feast my eyes...
and update my fantasy file.
you...
am i done here?
yes.
i believe so.
"have a good day, and give a good day."
--M. Gundel, high school principal.
(my version? have a good day and give some good head. what???)
Sunday, December 26, 2004
it's a beautiful day here
well, i think so, at least.
the sun's not really up yet.
but i am.
woooo hooooo!
it's funny that i am so driven to post,
even when i have nothing to say.
i think it's great that kids believe in santa claus.
i really don't remember what it was like, to believe in him,
but i can remember very clearly believing in other magical people.
i am afraid that my kids have inherited my husband's cynicsm,
because they don't seem very impressed by the idea of some dude and his flying reindeer.
they are little scientists, already, i think!
Today will be a day of cooking and playing,
as there is a christmas party with the in-laws today.
the fucking mouse on this computer keeps doing the strangest things.
it is severely unstable.
i think it needs an intensive program of therapy and drugs.
hm....
sounds good--maybe i'll join it.
I am excited for this new year to start.
there are big things in store...
a couple of trips, and a move to the new house, all in the first two months.
in the start of summer, i'll slide headfirst into my 30th year.
that should be wild.
i plan to celebrate for the whole month.
(read: drink heavily and cry a lot)
nah, i'm kidding.
i am actually VERY excited to turn 30.
it's such a pretty number.
so clean and fresh.
THIRTY.
i have two kids, a great husband with a great job--
and my own career goals are coming into focus.
how can ya not love 30 when that's your life?
to be fair...
i think i would love it anyway.
but...
i do plan on making some rather grown-up changes this year.
like getting a new tattoo--on my big toe.
(hahahaha)
and going bungee jumping.
and finding somewhere to volunteer...
probably a retirement home.
not so much new year's resolutions as "i'm turning 30" resolutions.
june.
mark it down.
start shopping early.
nah, i'm kidding.
you can wait til may to start shopping.
so here's what i was thinking about 30:
I am creeping toward it like a giddy graverobber.
you might say this is a subconcious reference to death, getting older, etc.
you would be wrong.
(dumbass)
what it REALLY means is that graverobbers are generally giddy when they know there is a treasure in store.
this shows my optimism, that 30 holds a treasure...
i may have made that up as i went, but it sure sounds good.
I have put myself in charge of making plans for New Year's Eve.
for us and, so far, just one other couple.
probably something low key.
none of us want to party hardy.
heh.
so i'll keep you posted.
...cuz i'm sure you're all dying to know what the boredest housey wifelet is doing to celebrate the end of 2004.
or the beginning of 2005?
whichever.
be good, be well, be kind--
or go fuck yourselves.
the sun's not really up yet.
but i am.
woooo hooooo!
it's funny that i am so driven to post,
even when i have nothing to say.
i think it's great that kids believe in santa claus.
i really don't remember what it was like, to believe in him,
but i can remember very clearly believing in other magical people.
i am afraid that my kids have inherited my husband's cynicsm,
because they don't seem very impressed by the idea of some dude and his flying reindeer.
they are little scientists, already, i think!
Today will be a day of cooking and playing,
as there is a christmas party with the in-laws today.
the fucking mouse on this computer keeps doing the strangest things.
it is severely unstable.
i think it needs an intensive program of therapy and drugs.
hm....
sounds good--maybe i'll join it.
I am excited for this new year to start.
there are big things in store...
a couple of trips, and a move to the new house, all in the first two months.
in the start of summer, i'll slide headfirst into my 30th year.
that should be wild.
i plan to celebrate for the whole month.
(read: drink heavily and cry a lot)
nah, i'm kidding.
i am actually VERY excited to turn 30.
it's such a pretty number.
so clean and fresh.
THIRTY.
i have two kids, a great husband with a great job--
and my own career goals are coming into focus.
how can ya not love 30 when that's your life?
to be fair...
i think i would love it anyway.
but...
i do plan on making some rather grown-up changes this year.
like getting a new tattoo--on my big toe.
(hahahaha)
and going bungee jumping.
and finding somewhere to volunteer...
probably a retirement home.
not so much new year's resolutions as "i'm turning 30" resolutions.
june.
mark it down.
start shopping early.
nah, i'm kidding.
you can wait til may to start shopping.
so here's what i was thinking about 30:
I am creeping toward it like a giddy graverobber.
you might say this is a subconcious reference to death, getting older, etc.
you would be wrong.
(dumbass)
what it REALLY means is that graverobbers are generally giddy when they know there is a treasure in store.
this shows my optimism, that 30 holds a treasure...
i may have made that up as i went, but it sure sounds good.
I have put myself in charge of making plans for New Year's Eve.
for us and, so far, just one other couple.
probably something low key.
none of us want to party hardy.
heh.
so i'll keep you posted.
...cuz i'm sure you're all dying to know what the boredest housey wifelet is doing to celebrate the end of 2004.
or the beginning of 2005?
whichever.
be good, be well, be kind--
or go fuck yourselves.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
had a nap and now i feel like writing
but, as usual, i have nothing to say.
two posts on christmas day???
what's wrong with me?
eh.
don't answer that.
i've gotten my ass kicked at Kerplunk and pick-up sticks.
i've had races with these great little porsche models on this wild track.
i've built 3 different configurations of the train track.
i've made cinnamon rolls and brownies and cookies.
marvelous family party--ate too much, perfectly.
so now hubby and i are settling in to watch a movie or two and maybe have yet another christmas tumble.
i'm not sure life could get any better.
and now--
a post.
something to read on the 26th...
the day after.
should be a happy fun post, right?
how about...something...beautiful?
maybe i could.
dunno...
at least, i could write about my new house.
we bought one.
we plan to close toward the end of january,
and have the contractors finish the basement before we move in.
it's a great house.
we're keeping this one, to rent out.
so.
blah blah blah.
i can't wait to shop for furniture.
other than that, i'm glad we have a firm-ish date,
and i'm glad it's not very soon.
i'd really like to knock your socks off right now.
or at least your pants...
but i am beginning to get the feeling i don't have it in me right now.
my muse has shoved me out onto the snow swept street, locking the door behind me.
he's probably inside, eating all my christmas candy and banging the hot chick from next door.
i don't know how much longer i can wait out here, with no shoes and no coat.
i have little icicles forming in the ends of my hair, and i can't feel my nose--
or my toes.
AND.
I just channel surfed my way to The Sound of Music.
can't beat that for holiday cheer!!!!
Happy Boxing Day, to those of you who celebrate it.
Happy day after Christmas to those of you who don't.
(someone send me a naked picture so i can stop wallowing.)
two posts on christmas day???
what's wrong with me?
eh.
don't answer that.
i've gotten my ass kicked at Kerplunk and pick-up sticks.
i've had races with these great little porsche models on this wild track.
i've built 3 different configurations of the train track.
i've made cinnamon rolls and brownies and cookies.
marvelous family party--ate too much, perfectly.
so now hubby and i are settling in to watch a movie or two and maybe have yet another christmas tumble.
i'm not sure life could get any better.
and now--
a post.
something to read on the 26th...
the day after.
should be a happy fun post, right?
how about...something...beautiful?
maybe i could.
dunno...
at least, i could write about my new house.
we bought one.
we plan to close toward the end of january,
and have the contractors finish the basement before we move in.
it's a great house.
we're keeping this one, to rent out.
so.
blah blah blah.
i can't wait to shop for furniture.
other than that, i'm glad we have a firm-ish date,
and i'm glad it's not very soon.
i'd really like to knock your socks off right now.
or at least your pants...
but i am beginning to get the feeling i don't have it in me right now.
my muse has shoved me out onto the snow swept street, locking the door behind me.
he's probably inside, eating all my christmas candy and banging the hot chick from next door.
i don't know how much longer i can wait out here, with no shoes and no coat.
i have little icicles forming in the ends of my hair, and i can't feel my nose--
or my toes.
AND.
I just channel surfed my way to The Sound of Music.
can't beat that for holiday cheer!!!!
Happy Boxing Day, to those of you who celebrate it.
Happy day after Christmas to those of you who don't.
(someone send me a naked picture so i can stop wallowing.)
Possibly the best Christmas EVER
the kids are still glowing and playing--
and will probably not get through the first round with each toy until sometime next week.
movies and games and a train set (from SANTA!)
airplanes which really fly and everything--EVERYTHING is just what they wanted.
me and santy did good.
it is an amazing feeling.
i suppose i have to change my perception of christmas...
my mom always made holidays so special and i really miss that feeling.
it would help if my husband got as excited about it all as I do--
but he does try.
he was just raised very differently than I...
therefore, he has different expectations.
i can't believe 6 christmases later we're still ironing this out.
hahahaha.
AND it's the 7 year anniversary of when we met--
well 3 days ago it was.
and new year's eve was our first...
uh...
"time".
wink-wink.
so the holidays are sorta extra special for us in that regard.
so the moral of the story is:
LISA IS A SPOILED LITTLE PRINCESS WHO WISHES EVERYONE WOULD FUSS OVER HER.
s'okay.
at least i have my kids to fuss over now, and--
who knew?
it's actually way more fun than being fussed over!!
i did get some 440 thread count sheets, though.
and a lovely lotion/bubble bath basket.
and let's don't forget my ipoddy.
hubby broke a string on his guitar already...
and i didn't think to buy replacement ones for him to have on hand.
oh well.
we have one hour until we head to my brother's house for that shin dig.
and here i am.
in blog world.
what a friggin loser.
i hope that anyone reading this is having a happy day--
and thank you to those of you who left such warm wishes in the comments--
love you all!
UPDATE: 11:09am
i was cutting up the creme de menthe brownies i'm taking to the family thing.
and.
i realized...
i have NO christmas spirit.
i don't know how i overlooked that this year.
usually i start building up a healthy supply of warm fuzzies in early december.
but here i sit, on christmas day--
madly in love with my kids and their joy...
but not quite in tune with the day.
i'll work on it.
as long as the kids behave at my brother's...
i think that'll just knock me over the edge into a pile of christmas spirit.
we'll see.
and maybe next year....
i'll remember to look outside my own head a little sooner than noon on christmas day.
and will probably not get through the first round with each toy until sometime next week.
movies and games and a train set (from SANTA!)
airplanes which really fly and everything--EVERYTHING is just what they wanted.
me and santy did good.
it is an amazing feeling.
i suppose i have to change my perception of christmas...
my mom always made holidays so special and i really miss that feeling.
it would help if my husband got as excited about it all as I do--
but he does try.
he was just raised very differently than I...
therefore, he has different expectations.
i can't believe 6 christmases later we're still ironing this out.
hahahaha.
AND it's the 7 year anniversary of when we met--
well 3 days ago it was.
and new year's eve was our first...
uh...
"time".
wink-wink.
so the holidays are sorta extra special for us in that regard.
so the moral of the story is:
LISA IS A SPOILED LITTLE PRINCESS WHO WISHES EVERYONE WOULD FUSS OVER HER.
s'okay.
at least i have my kids to fuss over now, and--
who knew?
it's actually way more fun than being fussed over!!
i did get some 440 thread count sheets, though.
and a lovely lotion/bubble bath basket.
and let's don't forget my ipoddy.
hubby broke a string on his guitar already...
and i didn't think to buy replacement ones for him to have on hand.
oh well.
we have one hour until we head to my brother's house for that shin dig.
and here i am.
in blog world.
what a friggin loser.
i hope that anyone reading this is having a happy day--
and thank you to those of you who left such warm wishes in the comments--
love you all!
UPDATE: 11:09am
i was cutting up the creme de menthe brownies i'm taking to the family thing.
and.
i realized...
i have NO christmas spirit.
i don't know how i overlooked that this year.
usually i start building up a healthy supply of warm fuzzies in early december.
but here i sit, on christmas day--
madly in love with my kids and their joy...
but not quite in tune with the day.
i'll work on it.
as long as the kids behave at my brother's...
i think that'll just knock me over the edge into a pile of christmas spirit.
we'll see.
and maybe next year....
i'll remember to look outside my own head a little sooner than noon on christmas day.
Friday, December 24, 2004
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night--
twas the night before christmas and all through the house--
etc.
if anyone reads this, i hope you're having a lovely holiday.
i miss my parents, my grandmother, my sister.
holidays, while nice, just aren't the same as an adult.
i'm glad that my kids are old enough to enjoy it,
because i already received my presents.
for the record--
that fucking sucks, and i'm not going to agree to it ever again.
um.
this is a total downer.
someone slap me.
holly and wreaths and candles and love.
that is this day.
etc.
if anyone reads this, i hope you're having a lovely holiday.
i miss my parents, my grandmother, my sister.
holidays, while nice, just aren't the same as an adult.
i'm glad that my kids are old enough to enjoy it,
because i already received my presents.
for the record--
that fucking sucks, and i'm not going to agree to it ever again.
um.
this is a total downer.
someone slap me.
holly and wreaths and candles and love.
that is this day.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
Fantasy Friday #53
Hold on to your hats, folks...
or better yet, turn a fan on--
it's about to get hot in here.
hahahahaha.
And yes, this is THE fantasy Friday for the week,
because I figure today is everyone's "Friday" for the week anyway!!
(oh, and check me and the girls out here--it was a bandwagon i couldn't resist straddling..)
so.
I'm sitting here, naked...
trying to get in the mood to write this.
...It's working.
good tunes, smooth skin creeping into my peripheral vision.
all I can think about is how it would be to hear a knock on the door right now.
I would jump, startled, and worry about my nudity for a moment.
then I would smile and grab a long satin robe.
through the mottled glass of the window on the front door, I would see a shape.
just as imperceptible as any other...
but a lightening bolt would slither through me.
my rational mind wouldn't have a chance to protest.
I would open the door without thinking.
I would bit my lip, and try to regulate my breathing as you stepped through it.
I would take a step back, letting you in enough to close the door.
the look in your eyes would...
well...
it would answer any question I could have spit out, if I were able to speak:
we were of one will.
the cold would cling to you, and I would begin removing your clothes, wordlessly.
your eyes...
just looking into them would make me tremble.
(still sitting here naked...growing wetter with each line...)
as I pulled your shirt over your head, you would tug at the sash around my waist,
and the robe would fall open.
you would swallow hard and offer a shaky smile.
I would blush and lean into you--
not quite shy, but...
needing to feel you.
the meeting of our lips, I think, would be...
the first clue that we might have been born on the same distant star.
both strangers to this world, but at home with each other.
soft, tentative kisses would turn deep...insistent...
tongues dancing, breathing each other.
you.
your hands would come alive,
exploring me like a blind man--
starting with the nape of my neck and my hair, then moving down my back,
around and up to meet my eagerly awaiting tits...
a soft gasp at the feel of such rough skin on such soft flesh--
and a giggle.
your lips trailing down my neck,
your mouth suddenly jealous of your hands,
you would suck and lick at my hard nipples,
and my hands would begin their own exploration--
finding your zipper almost immediately, but not fast enough--
ripping at your pants, needing them to be gone.
you would win the race
(I would let you...)
by dropping to your knees first.
my naked back would be against the cold wall,
you would lick the gentle wetness with as much restraint as you could muster...
I would moan and sigh...
and cum so fast and hard that it would surprise us both.
after licking me clean...
you would stand,
and take my hand and walk to the bedroom
I would toss you a pair of handcuffs and lay down, arms above my head.
you would grin while securing me.
the softest, sweetest kiss--
your tongue swirling around mine--
to seal the bond of trust.
your hard cock would brush against my belly as you sat back,
getting into position...
you would tease me for a moment,
rubbing your head from the top of my mound, down to my ass hole.
I would shudder, and arch into you--
unsuccessfully.
I would begin squirming, the heat growing.
my softest wettest spot growing wetter by the second.
you would slide the tip inside me, giving me a false hope that my hunger was about to be satiated,
then pull out, drawing a whimper.
when finally you would slide in, my pussy would tighten around you--
unwilling to let go.
you would lean down to kiss my neck and my arms would ache to be around you,
my hands would strain at their bindings, needing to touch you.
you would sit up and pull out--
covering me with your hot white cum,
then lying down beside me, and undoing the cuffs.
something like that, at least.
Hope you all have the happiest of holidays--
however you choose to/are forced to spend them...
don't forget to be thankful for what you have.
or better yet, turn a fan on--
it's about to get hot in here.
hahahahaha.
And yes, this is THE fantasy Friday for the week,
because I figure today is everyone's "Friday" for the week anyway!!
(oh, and check me and the girls out here--it was a bandwagon i couldn't resist straddling..)
so.
I'm sitting here, naked...
trying to get in the mood to write this.
...It's working.
good tunes, smooth skin creeping into my peripheral vision.
all I can think about is how it would be to hear a knock on the door right now.
I would jump, startled, and worry about my nudity for a moment.
then I would smile and grab a long satin robe.
through the mottled glass of the window on the front door, I would see a shape.
just as imperceptible as any other...
but a lightening bolt would slither through me.
my rational mind wouldn't have a chance to protest.
I would open the door without thinking.
I would bit my lip, and try to regulate my breathing as you stepped through it.
I would take a step back, letting you in enough to close the door.
the look in your eyes would...
well...
it would answer any question I could have spit out, if I were able to speak:
we were of one will.
the cold would cling to you, and I would begin removing your clothes, wordlessly.
your eyes...
just looking into them would make me tremble.
(still sitting here naked...growing wetter with each line...)
as I pulled your shirt over your head, you would tug at the sash around my waist,
and the robe would fall open.
you would swallow hard and offer a shaky smile.
I would blush and lean into you--
not quite shy, but...
needing to feel you.
the meeting of our lips, I think, would be...
the first clue that we might have been born on the same distant star.
both strangers to this world, but at home with each other.
soft, tentative kisses would turn deep...insistent...
tongues dancing, breathing each other.
you.
your hands would come alive,
exploring me like a blind man--
starting with the nape of my neck and my hair, then moving down my back,
around and up to meet my eagerly awaiting tits...
a soft gasp at the feel of such rough skin on such soft flesh--
and a giggle.
your lips trailing down my neck,
your mouth suddenly jealous of your hands,
you would suck and lick at my hard nipples,
and my hands would begin their own exploration--
finding your zipper almost immediately, but not fast enough--
ripping at your pants, needing them to be gone.
you would win the race
(I would let you...)
by dropping to your knees first.
my naked back would be against the cold wall,
you would lick the gentle wetness with as much restraint as you could muster...
I would moan and sigh...
and cum so fast and hard that it would surprise us both.
after licking me clean...
you would stand,
and take my hand and walk to the bedroom
I would toss you a pair of handcuffs and lay down, arms above my head.
you would grin while securing me.
the softest, sweetest kiss--
your tongue swirling around mine--
to seal the bond of trust.
your hard cock would brush against my belly as you sat back,
getting into position...
you would tease me for a moment,
rubbing your head from the top of my mound, down to my ass hole.
I would shudder, and arch into you--
unsuccessfully.
I would begin squirming, the heat growing.
my softest wettest spot growing wetter by the second.
you would slide the tip inside me, giving me a false hope that my hunger was about to be satiated,
then pull out, drawing a whimper.
when finally you would slide in, my pussy would tighten around you--
unwilling to let go.
you would lean down to kiss my neck and my arms would ache to be around you,
my hands would strain at their bindings, needing to touch you.
you would sit up and pull out--
covering me with your hot white cum,
then lying down beside me, and undoing the cuffs.
something like that, at least.
Hope you all have the happiest of holidays--
however you choose to/are forced to spend them...
don't forget to be thankful for what you have.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
i am full of silly spritely sugary sassy energy
so suck it, sycho.
sorry.
shit!
...got stuck on the 's'es for a minute there.
sheesh.
it's true though.
i'm on fire.
not with a fever, not even in my soul...
just.
ants.
in my PANTS.
they tickle...
and here's a thought--
on me, and the vast couldron of hypocrisy in which I'm swimming--
(oooh, that could be a metaphor for utah, but it's not)
i just think it's funny that i am quite anti-medications/drugs,
yet i jump on any skinny pill bandwagon i can find.
rarely take an aspirin, hate cold meds.
what's that? you say this will make me LOSE WEIGHT?? give me a double.
stupid girl.
it IS working, though.
yes, i've also gotten back on the workout bandwagon--
i'd been slacking off, hitting the gym only 3 times a week and cutting my cardio short.
AND watching what i eat--except when i shove holiday treats into my mouth by the armful...
i close my eyes then.
hehe.
so, last night the husband and I wrestled with my nose ring for long enough to make me cry, bleed and GET NOWHERE WITH IT.
I went to sleep feeling a little let down, and sad--
nearly convinced that my pierced days had come to an end.
I gave it another chance this morning...
Here are the pictures...
AND.
I love music.
and life.
and i'm really excited for christmas.
but i've forgotten one very important thing,
so i better get it done today.
happy humping day--
sorry.
shit!
...got stuck on the 's'es for a minute there.
sheesh.
it's true though.
i'm on fire.
not with a fever, not even in my soul...
just.
ants.
in my PANTS.
they tickle...
and here's a thought--
on me, and the vast couldron of hypocrisy in which I'm swimming--
(oooh, that could be a metaphor for utah, but it's not)
i just think it's funny that i am quite anti-medications/drugs,
yet i jump on any skinny pill bandwagon i can find.
rarely take an aspirin, hate cold meds.
what's that? you say this will make me LOSE WEIGHT?? give me a double.
stupid girl.
it IS working, though.
yes, i've also gotten back on the workout bandwagon--
i'd been slacking off, hitting the gym only 3 times a week and cutting my cardio short.
AND watching what i eat--except when i shove holiday treats into my mouth by the armful...
i close my eyes then.
hehe.
so, last night the husband and I wrestled with my nose ring for long enough to make me cry, bleed and GET NOWHERE WITH IT.
I went to sleep feeling a little let down, and sad--
nearly convinced that my pierced days had come to an end.
I gave it another chance this morning...
Here are the pictures...
AND.
I love music.
and life.
and i'm really excited for christmas.
but i've forgotten one very important thing,
so i better get it done today.
happy humping day--
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
because it's been one of those days...
no, not one of THOSE days.
just.
a sighable, cryable sorta day--
with plenty of smiles mixed in.
clipped off the nose ring on the way out the door...
then stressed the whole way to court,
wondering if i had inhaled the end that was on the inside--
will it make its way into my bloodstream and end up in my heart and!!
stuff like that.
so then, when i went through the metal detector and it beeped,
i thought, oh my god!! it's the nose ring!
silly thing.
court was fine.
VERY interesting case tried ahead of ours.
(more in a moment)
so then to the gym and home--
arms full of shit.
kids squawking.
phone rings--
it's becky--
cuz, let's face it, who else calls me??
and we start chatting,
the kids are asking me for candy, so i give them some while talking...
i hand something to the one i think is max, and say, "don't share with oliver, this has peanuts"
and give something else to the one i think is oliver.
i'm sure you can see where this is going.
so i'm chatting away, and OLIVER holds up the Snickers, with a bite out of it,
and says--
"mom, does this have peanuts?"
impatiently, i answer, "no!"
then i see the wrapper.
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!
he freaks and starts spitting the stuff into my hand,
i drop the phone.
we rinse his mouth,
and 6 hours later, no sign of a problem.
jesus H.
I know there are a FEW other problems out there that could use a cure...
but seriously, people.
do you know how fucking scary/annoying that is???
anyway.
so then...
i spent a while trying to get a different nose ring in.
i am so uncoordinated...
i couldn't do it.
fuck you.
don't mock me.
hm...
oh yeah, so a few minutes ago, the doorbell rings.
husband says, "oh...that's _____ _____...he's bringing over treats..."
oh, and did i mention i was sitting at the table, in plain view of the front door,
wearing the shirt from today's picture??
STILL braless.
hi...how are ya? do ya like my nips? thanks for the fudge.
i hate my husband sometimes.
but only for about 3 seconds at a time, so i don't think it counts.
merrrrrrrry fucking christmas.
just.
a sighable, cryable sorta day--
with plenty of smiles mixed in.
clipped off the nose ring on the way out the door...
then stressed the whole way to court,
wondering if i had inhaled the end that was on the inside--
will it make its way into my bloodstream and end up in my heart and!!
stuff like that.
so then, when i went through the metal detector and it beeped,
i thought, oh my god!! it's the nose ring!
silly thing.
court was fine.
VERY interesting case tried ahead of ours.
(more in a moment)
so then to the gym and home--
arms full of shit.
kids squawking.
phone rings--
it's becky--
cuz, let's face it, who else calls me??
and we start chatting,
the kids are asking me for candy, so i give them some while talking...
i hand something to the one i think is max, and say, "don't share with oliver, this has peanuts"
and give something else to the one i think is oliver.
i'm sure you can see where this is going.
so i'm chatting away, and OLIVER holds up the Snickers, with a bite out of it,
and says--
"mom, does this have peanuts?"
impatiently, i answer, "no!"
then i see the wrapper.
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!
he freaks and starts spitting the stuff into my hand,
i drop the phone.
we rinse his mouth,
and 6 hours later, no sign of a problem.
jesus H.
I know there are a FEW other problems out there that could use a cure...
but seriously, people.
do you know how fucking scary/annoying that is???
anyway.
so then...
i spent a while trying to get a different nose ring in.
i am so uncoordinated...
i couldn't do it.
fuck you.
don't mock me.
hm...
oh yeah, so a few minutes ago, the doorbell rings.
husband says, "oh...that's _____ _____...he's bringing over treats..."
oh, and did i mention i was sitting at the table, in plain view of the front door,
wearing the shirt from today's picture??
STILL braless.
hi...how are ya? do ya like my nips? thanks for the fudge.
i hate my husband sometimes.
but only for about 3 seconds at a time, so i don't think it counts.
merrrrrrrry fucking christmas.
Because I won't be around til this afternoon--
I'm dashing out a post now.
a post coital post.
whew, boy--
i crack myself up.
dunno if i have anything to say.
this keyboard is loud.
i think my new year's resolution is going to be to reconnect with old friends.
and make some new ones.
court tomorrow.
taking nose ring out.
well, cutting it off...
see, it has a little bulb on the inside, to keep it from falling out,
but the hole has grown closed just enough that it won't come out.
very annoying.
we should also find out tomorrow if we're going to buy this one house.
i sorta hope so, but i sorta hope not.
bah humbug.
I heard this song, on this show.
something by brooks and dunn, and it made me think.
it made me think pretty thoughts, warm thoughts.
it wrapped around me and reminded me of some of the things i keep deepest inside...
things i allude to in here, in these moments of poetic soul purging.
i love the power of lyrics.
i am not a person who knows music for music's sake.
but i know words.
i think there are so many kinds of people in this world and so many ways to see things, that it's amazing any of us ever connect with another human being on more than a shallow level.
i think that some feelings are like tattoos on your soul,
while others are like wind through the leaves.
i am amazed sometimes at the person i am now...
that little mormon girl who moved to utah 11 years ago could have never imagined this life.
and yet...
it fits me like a glove.
a soft, leather glove.
it's MY life.
the one i chose, the one i built.
the one i thrive in.
the one i didn't realize i wanted until i found it.
life is beautiful.
and so are my thighs.
speaking of which, i can't believe i haven't been unabashedly pointing out my amazon wishlist.
oh yeah--maybe that's because it embarasses the hell out of me that i even have it linked.
but that doesn't mean i don't want stuff.
oh yeah...
it's too late for a christmas arrival.
well.
i guess i'll have to throw away all those 8X10 glossies of my--
self.
what a waste.
i shan't be going braless to court, but i'll remove my bindings as soon as i return home.
remind me to post a picture.
happy day--
a post coital post.
whew, boy--
i crack myself up.
dunno if i have anything to say.
this keyboard is loud.
i think my new year's resolution is going to be to reconnect with old friends.
and make some new ones.
court tomorrow.
taking nose ring out.
well, cutting it off...
see, it has a little bulb on the inside, to keep it from falling out,
but the hole has grown closed just enough that it won't come out.
very annoying.
we should also find out tomorrow if we're going to buy this one house.
i sorta hope so, but i sorta hope not.
bah humbug.
I heard this song, on this show.
something by brooks and dunn, and it made me think.
it made me think pretty thoughts, warm thoughts.
it wrapped around me and reminded me of some of the things i keep deepest inside...
things i allude to in here, in these moments of poetic soul purging.
i love the power of lyrics.
i am not a person who knows music for music's sake.
but i know words.
i think there are so many kinds of people in this world and so many ways to see things, that it's amazing any of us ever connect with another human being on more than a shallow level.
i think that some feelings are like tattoos on your soul,
while others are like wind through the leaves.
i am amazed sometimes at the person i am now...
that little mormon girl who moved to utah 11 years ago could have never imagined this life.
and yet...
it fits me like a glove.
a soft, leather glove.
it's MY life.
the one i chose, the one i built.
the one i thrive in.
the one i didn't realize i wanted until i found it.
life is beautiful.
and so are my thighs.
speaking of which, i can't believe i haven't been unabashedly pointing out my amazon wishlist.
oh yeah--maybe that's because it embarasses the hell out of me that i even have it linked.
but that doesn't mean i don't want stuff.
oh yeah...
it's too late for a christmas arrival.
well.
i guess i'll have to throw away all those 8X10 glossies of my--
self.
what a waste.
i shan't be going braless to court, but i'll remove my bindings as soon as i return home.
remind me to post a picture.
happy day--
Monday, December 20, 2004
has anyone seen my head??
I know it's around here somewhere...
I just remembered, about ten minutes ago, that i'm watching my friend's kids today.
Such a flake.
so, yesterday I felt like crap--too much to drink and too little sleep the night before.
no biggie.
But we went to dinner and to a movie last night
and when we got home I felt like I had taken a valium or something.
I was all hazy and foggy and cottony.
I fell asleep while my husband checked his work email (9:30 or so)
Then I apologized for not “putting out” after our lovely date.
I said "that’s not very nice of me, is it?"
He said “no it’s not.”
I pouted.
He said, “what?”
I said, “you were supposed to say: you’re my wife and I love you even if you only put out on days we don’t go on dates.”
“oh,” he said.“well”.
“that’s what I said! …only with different words.”
I told him it was going on the blog...
and asked him to get up and write it down for me.
I couldn't believe he wouldn't do it!
What?
Spoiled?
Moi?
Okay, fine.
And as long as we're talking about people getting their way...
We woke the neighbors after all.
I just need to figure out how to get 4 kids to the gym and I'll be all set.
p.s. christmas does not mean "give me 850 delicious desserts so i'll blow up like a balloon."
thank you.
oh yeah, and I ordered Tony's blook, and the tracking thingy said it'll be here today!
wooooo hoooo.
It's from santa.
I'm santa.
It's kind of boring when you're santa.
But at least you always get good stuff.
So far...
I've gotten that book, my ipoddy (yes rather early), and a couple of things that are a surprise for my husband so i can't put them here yet.
Which reminds me...
Anyone know a good guitar teacher in salt lake?
That's the other half of his present (the first half being the electric guitar).
It's okay.
I can put it on here because he already knows.
And now I think I'll go shower.
Care to join me?
I just remembered, about ten minutes ago, that i'm watching my friend's kids today.
Such a flake.
so, yesterday I felt like crap--too much to drink and too little sleep the night before.
no biggie.
But we went to dinner and to a movie last night
and when we got home I felt like I had taken a valium or something.
I was all hazy and foggy and cottony.
I fell asleep while my husband checked his work email (9:30 or so)
Then I apologized for not “putting out” after our lovely date.
I said "that’s not very nice of me, is it?"
He said “no it’s not.”
I pouted.
He said, “what?”
I said, “you were supposed to say: you’re my wife and I love you even if you only put out on days we don’t go on dates.”
“oh,” he said.“well”.
“that’s what I said! …only with different words.”
I told him it was going on the blog...
and asked him to get up and write it down for me.
I couldn't believe he wouldn't do it!
What?
Spoiled?
Moi?
Okay, fine.
And as long as we're talking about people getting their way...
We woke the neighbors after all.
I just need to figure out how to get 4 kids to the gym and I'll be all set.
p.s. christmas does not mean "give me 850 delicious desserts so i'll blow up like a balloon."
thank you.
oh yeah, and I ordered Tony's blook, and the tracking thingy said it'll be here today!
wooooo hoooo.
It's from santa.
I'm santa.
It's kind of boring when you're santa.
But at least you always get good stuff.
So far...
I've gotten that book, my ipoddy (yes rather early), and a couple of things that are a surprise for my husband so i can't put them here yet.
Which reminds me...
Anyone know a good guitar teacher in salt lake?
That's the other half of his present (the first half being the electric guitar).
It's okay.
I can put it on here because he already knows.
And now I think I'll go shower.
Care to join me?
Sunday, December 19, 2004
am i home yet?
not even drunk.
party was a smash hit.
and, ok...
a little drunk.
GREAT people.
i'm a dumbass when i stress about stuff.
remind me next time, wouldja???
they said we were leaving before all the crazy shit started...
well.
maybe next time...
all of us, transplants to utah--
all of us cool.
well, duh.
oh and did i mention i saw a kid from home at the gym?
i'm 94.3% sure it was him, at least.
a younger brother of some girls i didn't like.
weirdo mormon girls who moved there from--
dun dun dun--
UTAH.
ha.
full circle???
perhaps.
so tired.
but drunkenly so.
had a grass stain on my jeans.
had a lovely dinner.
want to burst into flames and be reborn.
good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.
and don't let me awaken dehydrated.
party was a smash hit.
and, ok...
a little drunk.
GREAT people.
i'm a dumbass when i stress about stuff.
remind me next time, wouldja???
they said we were leaving before all the crazy shit started...
well.
maybe next time...
all of us, transplants to utah--
all of us cool.
well, duh.
oh and did i mention i saw a kid from home at the gym?
i'm 94.3% sure it was him, at least.
a younger brother of some girls i didn't like.
weirdo mormon girls who moved there from--
dun dun dun--
UTAH.
ha.
full circle???
perhaps.
so tired.
but drunkenly so.
had a grass stain on my jeans.
had a lovely dinner.
want to burst into flames and be reborn.
good night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.
and don't let me awaken dehydrated.
Friday, December 17, 2004
saturday in the park, i think it was the 4th of july
NO.
I did NOT just quote Chicago.
well...
maybe I did.
The other day I was thinking about what it might be like if I met some of you in person--
and not in my normal "fantasy" way, either.
Just, to sit down and have a drink and a face to face chat.
I think you'd be surprised to learn that
I'm as normal as normal can be, without being boring, of course.
...but maybe not.
Maybe you already know that.
Or maybe it's not true, across the board.
We're going to a party tonight and I'm quite nervous that I won't fit in well...
It's sort of a more...
um...
upper tier kind of party.
We only know two of the other couples there...
eh.
I'm always intimidated by large groups of people.
I'm sure it'll be lovely.
I just don't have the patience anymore to smile and nod and pretend to be--
anything, or anyone...
blah.
i'm sick of blaming everything on hormones,
but i'm more sick of having things to blame on hormones.
Okay, since I've lost touch with all but one of my closest friends,
and I can only whine to her so much before she gives me the slap I deserve...
AND since it's a saturday, so not many people will read this...
I'm going to vent a bit.
I have a lot of big changes coming up and I haven't talked much about ANY of them.
I'm extrememly stressed out and worried about some of them, and just plain anxious about the others.
This week is our first court date in a custody suit.
We want my husband's son to come live with us...
and I'm not changing my stance, there.
it's just that it'll be a big change.
and a lot of work for me...
not so much for my husband,
and i'm afraid he's going to just dump it on me and not offer any support.
i don't mind doing whatever needs to be done for our family--
from laundry to doctor's appointments to sports practice to cleaning up vomit...
but i don't like feeling completely unappreciated.
it's hard enough when it's my own flesh and blood children and i don't get any recognition (yeah, yeah--i warned ya: WHINEY)
but when it's HIS son.
it's frustrating.
I am outnumbered by boys.
and they are all slobs.
they pee on the seat, or don't flush a poop.
they leave trails of discarded clothing throughout the house.
the 8 year old is worse than my 4 year olds, so that's frustrating.
I know that i can work on those things with him when/if he lives here full time.
but.
that equals work.
and i hate that my husband doesn't even see those things as problems, which is what leads to his lack of appreciation, etc.
he's a great husband, don't take this as a rant against him.
so that's worrying me.
AND before we even get a ruling there will be a period of observation by a Custody Evaluator.
This is a professional who will come to our home, sometimes as a surprise, sometimes scheduled,
and interview us and observe our interactions and living environment.
NERVEWRACKING.
So during all the court shit,
we will be moving into a new house.
which is all well and good,
but will include finding a new preschool for the kids,
finding new doctors for them and us,
the act of packing and unpacking,
decorating a new house,
sticking with my workouts,
trying to do more creative writing,
and don't forget--
my husband travels for business now.
also, my dad is having some major issues,
putting lots of stress on my mom and they're 3000 fucking miles away.
so all i can do is worry about them.
i'm sure there are several other things on my list, but i can't think of them right now.
i'm drained.
thanks for listening...
Sometimes my imagination is sound asleep and i don't know how to wake it
while other times it is alive and vibrant and vibrating and putting off a vibe...
walking down the street, whistling a tune and strutting its stuff.
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.
and I hope you forgive me for my whiney rant.
ranty whine.
panty pine.
blowing you kisses on the wind--
I did NOT just quote Chicago.
well...
maybe I did.
The other day I was thinking about what it might be like if I met some of you in person--
and not in my normal "fantasy" way, either.
Just, to sit down and have a drink and a face to face chat.
I think you'd be surprised to learn that
I'm as normal as normal can be, without being boring, of course.
...but maybe not.
Maybe you already know that.
Or maybe it's not true, across the board.
We're going to a party tonight and I'm quite nervous that I won't fit in well...
It's sort of a more...
um...
upper tier kind of party.
We only know two of the other couples there...
eh.
I'm always intimidated by large groups of people.
I'm sure it'll be lovely.
I just don't have the patience anymore to smile and nod and pretend to be--
anything, or anyone...
blah.
i'm sick of blaming everything on hormones,
but i'm more sick of having things to blame on hormones.
Okay, since I've lost touch with all but one of my closest friends,
and I can only whine to her so much before she gives me the slap I deserve...
AND since it's a saturday, so not many people will read this...
I'm going to vent a bit.
I have a lot of big changes coming up and I haven't talked much about ANY of them.
I'm extrememly stressed out and worried about some of them, and just plain anxious about the others.
This week is our first court date in a custody suit.
We want my husband's son to come live with us...
and I'm not changing my stance, there.
it's just that it'll be a big change.
and a lot of work for me...
not so much for my husband,
and i'm afraid he's going to just dump it on me and not offer any support.
i don't mind doing whatever needs to be done for our family--
from laundry to doctor's appointments to sports practice to cleaning up vomit...
but i don't like feeling completely unappreciated.
it's hard enough when it's my own flesh and blood children and i don't get any recognition (yeah, yeah--i warned ya: WHINEY)
but when it's HIS son.
it's frustrating.
I am outnumbered by boys.
and they are all slobs.
they pee on the seat, or don't flush a poop.
they leave trails of discarded clothing throughout the house.
the 8 year old is worse than my 4 year olds, so that's frustrating.
I know that i can work on those things with him when/if he lives here full time.
but.
that equals work.
and i hate that my husband doesn't even see those things as problems, which is what leads to his lack of appreciation, etc.
he's a great husband, don't take this as a rant against him.
so that's worrying me.
AND before we even get a ruling there will be a period of observation by a Custody Evaluator.
This is a professional who will come to our home, sometimes as a surprise, sometimes scheduled,
and interview us and observe our interactions and living environment.
NERVEWRACKING.
So during all the court shit,
we will be moving into a new house.
which is all well and good,
but will include finding a new preschool for the kids,
finding new doctors for them and us,
the act of packing and unpacking,
decorating a new house,
sticking with my workouts,
trying to do more creative writing,
and don't forget--
my husband travels for business now.
also, my dad is having some major issues,
putting lots of stress on my mom and they're 3000 fucking miles away.
so all i can do is worry about them.
i'm sure there are several other things on my list, but i can't think of them right now.
i'm drained.
thanks for listening...
Sometimes my imagination is sound asleep and i don't know how to wake it
while other times it is alive and vibrant and vibrating and putting off a vibe...
walking down the street, whistling a tune and strutting its stuff.
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend.
and I hope you forgive me for my whiney rant.
ranty whine.
panty pine.
blowing you kisses on the wind--
Fantasy Friday #52
I think I'm going to jump up and down and do a little dance.
...because I'm so excited to have done 52 fantasy posts.
although, I'm pretty sure I have the count wrong, because I hit the one year anniversary a couple of weeks ago, and I've done more than one, some weeks.
blah.
who cares???
who?
raise your hand if you're SURE.
or if you care.
or if you want to lick my arm.
what??
it's tasty.
I sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on it, instead of body glitter.
it looks kind of funny, but it sure does taste good.
...if you pretend i didn't write that,
i'll pretend you didn't read it.
deal?
done.
If there were wings folded under the skin on my back...
If they were just waiting for me to realize they were there...
It they would stretch out to their full size and flutter a little--
ready to be used, buzzing with energy.
Then I would smile as somewhere deep in its histroy, my brain would remember how to fly.
It would send signals through my body, and my arms and legs and head would all fall into position for smooth flight.
And I would feel as light as the air carrying me,
as I realized the power and freedom I possessed.
This country would look like a map below me--
there's the Grand Canyon, the peninsulas of Florida, and Cape Cod.
And I would notice how the air changes, over the ocean.
I would fly low, watching for whales and dolphins and sharks,
wondering for one silly moment if I could fly under water--and breathe.
Landing on the shore, I would fold my wings back in, before anyone noticed.
I would catch my breath, and run fingers through my hair.
And then I would walk until I found that chunk of myself that somehow ended up here...
that chunk of me that is lost and found at the same time, and is empty and full...
that little piece of my soul that is tucked away under the skin of another and harbored there,
safe and warm--cherished.
Fantasy Friday
We danced that night, laughing and twirling—slow dances.
I was dressed much more casually than I would have if I had known I would meet him.
He was charming…
Should have been a tip-off.
His smile pulled me in, his hands were sure.
He acted the perfect gentleman.
My guy friends knew him—they were the stars of our basketball team, he was the star of his.
But that was 4 years before he was the star of his collegiate team.
Apparently there is no cap for ego growth, no max-out.
When I ran into him a few weeks later—
He was roommates with a guy I went to church with my whole life.
We exchanged sly smiles and clinked beer bottles,
He asked if I liked his friend.
I shrugged—don’t know him.
I did go home with him that night.
His room was small and crowded,
His bed big and rumpled.
We watched a movie…
Or at least the first part of one.
Those were “feast or famine” days, and it just felt good to be with someone,
Kissing, touching…
Those first sparks of unsure kisses—not knowing yet how far it would go.
Sinking into the kiss, and feeling myself grow wet—
Rubbing against the hardness in his jeans,
Breathing growing ragged with impatience to clear all barriers.
The first, careful reaching up my shirt, his hand warm and sure.
Sending shivers up my spine, as his hand slid across my stomach,
And a gasp as he pushed up my little black bra and pressed his hand against my breast.
Kissing his neck, small bites.
The movie still playing in the background.
Pulling my own shirt off and reaching for his.
Letting him unhook the bra, then diving back together, growing wetter, growing harder—
Not enough skin on skin yet…
Our kisses led us down a spiraling path toward sweet relief from the pressure of desire.
I don’t remember how our pants came off but they did and then I was kneeling between his legs,
My long hair falling all over his thighs, creating a veil over my face as I slid my mouth around his thick cock.
He didn’t want to cum yet, so he stopped me after several long minutes of me making him moan.
He was a show-off…
He took me through more positions than I had seen yet in my limited experience—
He took my legs and put them on his shoulders,
And I almost giggled.
It was an awkward position, but…
He took me to the edge of orgasm and kept me there for so long I thought I might spontaneously combust…
I didn’t.
And when I woke there in the chilly june morning,
I sighed and regretted it.
‘nother notch on the belt, and still no true love.
Silly girl.
...because I'm so excited to have done 52 fantasy posts.
although, I'm pretty sure I have the count wrong, because I hit the one year anniversary a couple of weeks ago, and I've done more than one, some weeks.
blah.
who cares???
who?
raise your hand if you're SURE.
or if you care.
or if you want to lick my arm.
what??
it's tasty.
I sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on it, instead of body glitter.
it looks kind of funny, but it sure does taste good.
...if you pretend i didn't write that,
i'll pretend you didn't read it.
deal?
done.
If there were wings folded under the skin on my back...
If they were just waiting for me to realize they were there...
It they would stretch out to their full size and flutter a little--
ready to be used, buzzing with energy.
Then I would smile as somewhere deep in its histroy, my brain would remember how to fly.
It would send signals through my body, and my arms and legs and head would all fall into position for smooth flight.
And I would feel as light as the air carrying me,
as I realized the power and freedom I possessed.
This country would look like a map below me--
there's the Grand Canyon, the peninsulas of Florida, and Cape Cod.
And I would notice how the air changes, over the ocean.
I would fly low, watching for whales and dolphins and sharks,
wondering for one silly moment if I could fly under water--and breathe.
Landing on the shore, I would fold my wings back in, before anyone noticed.
I would catch my breath, and run fingers through my hair.
And then I would walk until I found that chunk of myself that somehow ended up here...
that chunk of me that is lost and found at the same time, and is empty and full...
that little piece of my soul that is tucked away under the skin of another and harbored there,
safe and warm--cherished.
Fantasy Friday
We danced that night, laughing and twirling—slow dances.
I was dressed much more casually than I would have if I had known I would meet him.
He was charming…
Should have been a tip-off.
His smile pulled me in, his hands were sure.
He acted the perfect gentleman.
My guy friends knew him—they were the stars of our basketball team, he was the star of his.
But that was 4 years before he was the star of his collegiate team.
Apparently there is no cap for ego growth, no max-out.
When I ran into him a few weeks later—
He was roommates with a guy I went to church with my whole life.
We exchanged sly smiles and clinked beer bottles,
He asked if I liked his friend.
I shrugged—don’t know him.
I did go home with him that night.
His room was small and crowded,
His bed big and rumpled.
We watched a movie…
Or at least the first part of one.
Those were “feast or famine” days, and it just felt good to be with someone,
Kissing, touching…
Those first sparks of unsure kisses—not knowing yet how far it would go.
Sinking into the kiss, and feeling myself grow wet—
Rubbing against the hardness in his jeans,
Breathing growing ragged with impatience to clear all barriers.
The first, careful reaching up my shirt, his hand warm and sure.
Sending shivers up my spine, as his hand slid across my stomach,
And a gasp as he pushed up my little black bra and pressed his hand against my breast.
Kissing his neck, small bites.
The movie still playing in the background.
Pulling my own shirt off and reaching for his.
Letting him unhook the bra, then diving back together, growing wetter, growing harder—
Not enough skin on skin yet…
Our kisses led us down a spiraling path toward sweet relief from the pressure of desire.
I don’t remember how our pants came off but they did and then I was kneeling between his legs,
My long hair falling all over his thighs, creating a veil over my face as I slid my mouth around his thick cock.
He didn’t want to cum yet, so he stopped me after several long minutes of me making him moan.
He was a show-off…
He took me through more positions than I had seen yet in my limited experience—
He took my legs and put them on his shoulders,
And I almost giggled.
It was an awkward position, but…
He took me to the edge of orgasm and kept me there for so long I thought I might spontaneously combust…
I didn’t.
And when I woke there in the chilly june morning,
I sighed and regretted it.
‘nother notch on the belt, and still no true love.
Silly girl.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
because it's thursday, and i'm wound up
in a good way.
had a fabulous workout.
feeling like myself again.
for the moment, Madame Whiney Pants has left the building.
I'll try to change the locks, in case she comes sniffing around again...
but you know how that goes.
I'm a bit of a procrastinator.
...and by "a bit", I mean...well...THE BIGGEST ONE ON THE PLANET.
but that's part of my charm, right?
No?
Oh, well.
Fuck you then.
Yes...
I overuse that.
It's probably lost its punch just a bit.
How about...
Sit and spin?
(accompanied by a bird)
Or...
Eat me?
No...too inviting.
Blow me?
Anatomically incorrect.
Hm...
I've told you before that I'm not very creative.
And here's proof.
I am, however, trying to use my shift key at the appropriate times.
I'm actually discovering that it sticks a little--
Sometimes I hit it and it doesn't work.
So.
Maybe it's not ALL my fault.
Okay, it is.
I was hoping I could trick you.
But I"m not very good at tricking people.
TREATING them, on the other hand...
now that's my speciality.
I'm so incredibly impressed with myself for doing Christmas cards for the second year in a row, that I'm telling you about it.
I also wrote one of those stupid-ass letters, to update my so-called friends on the news of my life.
Here's my question about THAT--
if they were REALLY my friends, wouldn't they already know everything???
Okay, fine.
So people use that as a way to keep in touch with people they're not close to for one reason or another.
But I don't like it.
Besides, I wrote one paragraph about the kids and one paragraph about my husband's new job and that was it.
I had neither JACK nor SHIT to say about myself.
"Oh and I've been keeping busy running a soft-core porn and erotica website."
Sure.
Maybe I'll include that next year.
And on a side note, my kids hate me today.
It's true.
They told me.
Actually, not so much with the hating today.
They've been...mostly good.
Which is like mostly dead, in the Princess Bride.
Only alive.
And no Billy Crystal.
I think my skinny pills are actually happy pills.
Either way, praise god, amen.
had a fabulous workout.
feeling like myself again.
for the moment, Madame Whiney Pants has left the building.
I'll try to change the locks, in case she comes sniffing around again...
but you know how that goes.
I'm a bit of a procrastinator.
...and by "a bit", I mean...well...THE BIGGEST ONE ON THE PLANET.
but that's part of my charm, right?
No?
Oh, well.
Fuck you then.
Yes...
I overuse that.
It's probably lost its punch just a bit.
How about...
Sit and spin?
(accompanied by a bird)
Or...
Eat me?
No...too inviting.
Blow me?
Anatomically incorrect.
Hm...
I've told you before that I'm not very creative.
And here's proof.
I am, however, trying to use my shift key at the appropriate times.
I'm actually discovering that it sticks a little--
Sometimes I hit it and it doesn't work.
So.
Maybe it's not ALL my fault.
Okay, it is.
I was hoping I could trick you.
But I"m not very good at tricking people.
TREATING them, on the other hand...
now that's my speciality.
I'm so incredibly impressed with myself for doing Christmas cards for the second year in a row, that I'm telling you about it.
I also wrote one of those stupid-ass letters, to update my so-called friends on the news of my life.
Here's my question about THAT--
if they were REALLY my friends, wouldn't they already know everything???
Okay, fine.
So people use that as a way to keep in touch with people they're not close to for one reason or another.
But I don't like it.
Besides, I wrote one paragraph about the kids and one paragraph about my husband's new job and that was it.
I had neither JACK nor SHIT to say about myself.
"Oh and I've been keeping busy running a soft-core porn and erotica website."
Sure.
Maybe I'll include that next year.
And on a side note, my kids hate me today.
It's true.
They told me.
Actually, not so much with the hating today.
They've been...mostly good.
Which is like mostly dead, in the Princess Bride.
Only alive.
And no Billy Crystal.
I think my skinny pills are actually happy pills.
Either way, praise god, amen.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
it's not so much that i mind not getting comments
it's that...
my fragile ego can't take it and i'm considering suicide.
actually, no.
but i have this fantastic scratch on my forearm,
that I have been adoringly calling "my failed attempt at suicide".
hm.
it doesn't sound as funny, in print.
i had this whole little spiel going, in my head,
and it was funny.
but then...
i guess a lot of things are funnier in one's head, aren't they?
oh well.
maybe next time.
so, i bought a couple of "supplements" from the pro shop at the gym today.
and a protein shake membership thingy.
I say supplements, but what i really mean is: skinny pills.
yeah yeah.
i don't want to hear it.
i'll put my faith in what i want, dammit.
and it's all about committment--
i'm ready to dive back into my workouts and really make the most of my time at the gym.
why?
cuz i love eating like a pig.
and APPARENTLY it's not in the cards for me to both eat like a pig AND sit on my ass all day.
so, i choose exercise.
and skinny pills.
AND being more careful about what i eat.
so fuck you.
and the cowboy you rode in with.
there was a car with Maine license plates in the parking lot.
always grabs my interest.
no idea whose it is, though.
and i don't quite picture myself walking up to everyone in the building--
excuse me? are you from Maine?
too bad, though, cuz i'd like to.
maybe i could ask the girl at the front desk to do an announcement?
would the person with the maine license plates please come to the front desk.
you have a stalker.
i think everyone secretly wants to be stalked.
...at least that's how i rationalize my behavior.
heh.
I also seem to be obsessed with Maine.
It sorta seems like some dream I had,
rather than a memory.
I am so distanced from my life there, at this point.
Oh, and I think we have a house.
I am...more sad than I would have thought, to be leaving this little town.
I love this town!
Okay, mostly I love my routine...
and I hate finding new routines.
But I shall.
We're living a lot closer to downtown than we had originally planned.
and that's AWESOME.
I'm really hopeful that it'll be a good thing.
This whole moving thing has been on the back burner for a few weeks,
and I'm not quite ready but it'll do.
I will be living about 15 minutes from my other best friend.
Which will be very convenient, since she's in school and doesn't make it down this far very often.
AND.
If I get my ass in gear...
maybe I could be in school by next fall.
kids start school, mommy starts school.
i think i would be a junior.
and that's my school.
i feel it in my guts.
byu?
fucking place nearly drove me to homicidal maniac status.
university of utah?
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.........
sigh of relief.
a good school, without a stick up its collective ass.
hubba hubba.
i might just end up with a degree after all.
CLEARLY, this is not a case where you would want to hold your breath.
and also a case of me counting my chickens before the eggs are even laid.
huh?
okay.
go offer oral pleasure to a stranger.
come on, I dare ya.
my fragile ego can't take it and i'm considering suicide.
actually, no.
but i have this fantastic scratch on my forearm,
that I have been adoringly calling "my failed attempt at suicide".
hm.
it doesn't sound as funny, in print.
i had this whole little spiel going, in my head,
and it was funny.
but then...
i guess a lot of things are funnier in one's head, aren't they?
oh well.
maybe next time.
so, i bought a couple of "supplements" from the pro shop at the gym today.
and a protein shake membership thingy.
I say supplements, but what i really mean is: skinny pills.
yeah yeah.
i don't want to hear it.
i'll put my faith in what i want, dammit.
and it's all about committment--
i'm ready to dive back into my workouts and really make the most of my time at the gym.
why?
cuz i love eating like a pig.
and APPARENTLY it's not in the cards for me to both eat like a pig AND sit on my ass all day.
so, i choose exercise.
and skinny pills.
AND being more careful about what i eat.
so fuck you.
and the cowboy you rode in with.
there was a car with Maine license plates in the parking lot.
always grabs my interest.
no idea whose it is, though.
and i don't quite picture myself walking up to everyone in the building--
excuse me? are you from Maine?
too bad, though, cuz i'd like to.
maybe i could ask the girl at the front desk to do an announcement?
would the person with the maine license plates please come to the front desk.
you have a stalker.
i think everyone secretly wants to be stalked.
...at least that's how i rationalize my behavior.
heh.
I also seem to be obsessed with Maine.
It sorta seems like some dream I had,
rather than a memory.
I am so distanced from my life there, at this point.
Oh, and I think we have a house.
I am...more sad than I would have thought, to be leaving this little town.
I love this town!
Okay, mostly I love my routine...
and I hate finding new routines.
But I shall.
We're living a lot closer to downtown than we had originally planned.
and that's AWESOME.
I'm really hopeful that it'll be a good thing.
This whole moving thing has been on the back burner for a few weeks,
and I'm not quite ready but it'll do.
I will be living about 15 minutes from my other best friend.
Which will be very convenient, since she's in school and doesn't make it down this far very often.
AND.
If I get my ass in gear...
maybe I could be in school by next fall.
kids start school, mommy starts school.
i think i would be a junior.
and that's my school.
i feel it in my guts.
byu?
fucking place nearly drove me to homicidal maniac status.
university of utah?
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.........
sigh of relief.
a good school, without a stick up its collective ass.
hubba hubba.
i might just end up with a degree after all.
CLEARLY, this is not a case where you would want to hold your breath.
and also a case of me counting my chickens before the eggs are even laid.
huh?
okay.
go offer oral pleasure to a stranger.
come on, I dare ya.
crazy jesus/satan dreams, aside...
today's going to be a good day.
and why?
because I said so.
that was one weird motherfucking dream, though.
I thought this guy was Jesus
(and no, T. I didn't want to have sex with him)
and I started pouring my heart out to him...
and then these other kindly-looking people showed up,
and it was about to be a love-fest (no, still NOT that kind)
and one of them licked his thumb and touched the christ person.
this reminded me of something, but i couldn't place it...
then one of them showed his true colors--
a demon.
they were all demons.
redish spirits peeking out from disguises.
I ran.
Oddly, I was kind of relieved...
what the HELL does that say about the state of my soul???
(no pun intended)
I was more scared of the good guy than the bad guy.
argh.
hm...
I was thinking of writing about things that are happening in my life,
instead of just writing about how I feel or what I want,
like I've been doing lately...
The problem with that is:
NOTHING happens in my life that anyone would want to read about.
My head is full of things--
stories, plans, memories.
But.
None of it is publishable.
None of it will hold even MY interest for long enough to type the keys.
Oh!
Well.
I bought my ticket to go to California, last night.
No sooner had I said, "I can't believe how easy that was!",
than my husband, sitting on the bed with his laptop,
got the confirmation email.
"You got the wrong ticket."
WHAT????
I somehow selected a Monday return date instead of Sunday.
It was surprisingly easy to fix, but I was pretty distraught at first.
Fortunately, Becky called just as I was getting teary,
to tell me stories of ancient Judiasm and what the law concerning masturbation was...
It's moments like that, when my insides burn withindigestion jealousy,
and I start wishing I was in school.
Eh, maybe someday I'll go back.
(and yes, I'm aware that this conversation may have contributed to my dream)
anyway.
My trip is now set, and I can start planning.
I am.
super.
excited.
And this proves that I am my mother's daughter--
She sent my family's Christmas box to my brother's and their box to me.
oops.
we had a good chuckle over it...
but...
Mostly it just makes me sad.
Her life is too hard right now.
I guess her adult life has never been anything else--
But she's never complained.
She is strong, and cheerful...
Her youth was great...
She was so beautiful and had such a bright future.
Did she marry the wrong man?
Or did he make the wrong choice when he left her with two young sons?
Did she make the wrong choice when she married the man her brother-in-law set her up with, after only 6 weeks of long-distance courting?
Did she make the wrong choice the day she packed a bag and put her two tiny daughters in the car and didn't leave?
Or.
Are wrong and right more subjective terms than I think?
Is making the difficult choice always right?
How different would my life have been if she had made any of those decisions differently?
All I know is, she is the most truly good person I've ever met.
She has not a selfish bone in her body--
even if she is a youngest child, like me.
heh.
ANYWAY.
So, I was just about to wrap this up, when I smelled something cooking...
or is that BURNING?????
little one had decided to cook his own corn dog
(don't get me started--i hate the things, but this is what happens when they are exposed to other kids...)
in the microwave.
when i got down there, there was smoke pouring out of it,
and the timer still read 8 minutes and counting...
i have NO IDEA how long it had been running...
but there was a blackened lump in there and tons of smoke.
the house still smells like burned plastic.
yummmm.
and i said nothing ever happens worth mentioning.
that'll teach me.
well.
i'm sorry my posts have been kind of "iffy" lately.
and by "iffy", I mean...
LAME ASS.
but y'know.
whatever.
if you don't like it you can just go fuck yourself.
(and if you're on my "A" list, i'll do it for you.)
and why?
because I said so.
that was one weird motherfucking dream, though.
I thought this guy was Jesus
(and no, T. I didn't want to have sex with him)
and I started pouring my heart out to him...
and then these other kindly-looking people showed up,
and it was about to be a love-fest (no, still NOT that kind)
and one of them licked his thumb and touched the christ person.
this reminded me of something, but i couldn't place it...
then one of them showed his true colors--
a demon.
they were all demons.
redish spirits peeking out from disguises.
I ran.
Oddly, I was kind of relieved...
what the HELL does that say about the state of my soul???
(no pun intended)
I was more scared of the good guy than the bad guy.
argh.
hm...
I was thinking of writing about things that are happening in my life,
instead of just writing about how I feel or what I want,
like I've been doing lately...
The problem with that is:
NOTHING happens in my life that anyone would want to read about.
My head is full of things--
stories, plans, memories.
But.
None of it is publishable.
None of it will hold even MY interest for long enough to type the keys.
Oh!
Well.
I bought my ticket to go to California, last night.
No sooner had I said, "I can't believe how easy that was!",
than my husband, sitting on the bed with his laptop,
got the confirmation email.
"You got the wrong ticket."
WHAT????
I somehow selected a Monday return date instead of Sunday.
It was surprisingly easy to fix, but I was pretty distraught at first.
Fortunately, Becky called just as I was getting teary,
to tell me stories of ancient Judiasm and what the law concerning masturbation was...
It's moments like that, when my insides burn with
and I start wishing I was in school.
Eh, maybe someday I'll go back.
(and yes, I'm aware that this conversation may have contributed to my dream)
anyway.
My trip is now set, and I can start planning.
I am.
super.
excited.
And this proves that I am my mother's daughter--
She sent my family's Christmas box to my brother's and their box to me.
oops.
we had a good chuckle over it...
but...
Mostly it just makes me sad.
Her life is too hard right now.
I guess her adult life has never been anything else--
But she's never complained.
She is strong, and cheerful...
Her youth was great...
She was so beautiful and had such a bright future.
Did she marry the wrong man?
Or did he make the wrong choice when he left her with two young sons?
Did she make the wrong choice when she married the man her brother-in-law set her up with, after only 6 weeks of long-distance courting?
Did she make the wrong choice the day she packed a bag and put her two tiny daughters in the car and didn't leave?
Or.
Are wrong and right more subjective terms than I think?
Is making the difficult choice always right?
How different would my life have been if she had made any of those decisions differently?
All I know is, she is the most truly good person I've ever met.
She has not a selfish bone in her body--
even if she is a youngest child, like me.
heh.
ANYWAY.
So, I was just about to wrap this up, when I smelled something cooking...
or is that BURNING?????
little one had decided to cook his own corn dog
(don't get me started--i hate the things, but this is what happens when they are exposed to other kids...)
in the microwave.
when i got down there, there was smoke pouring out of it,
and the timer still read 8 minutes and counting...
i have NO IDEA how long it had been running...
but there was a blackened lump in there and tons of smoke.
the house still smells like burned plastic.
yummmm.
and i said nothing ever happens worth mentioning.
that'll teach me.
well.
i'm sorry my posts have been kind of "iffy" lately.
and by "iffy", I mean...
LAME ASS.
but y'know.
whatever.
if you don't like it you can just go fuck yourself.
(and if you're on my "A" list, i'll do it for you.)
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
can't think with all this noise
So.
I'll put on my headphones.
Music?
Optional.
Okay, not really--
Music is NEVER optional.
But, y'know...I meant all that matters is blocking out the other noises.
yeah.
I guess you probably "got" that.
We decorated our tree last night.
No, not our apple tree, smartass.
Our strangely un-religious winter holiday tree.
Have I told you lately how frigging cute my kids are????
Well, they are.
FRIGGING cute.
They were totally excited and funny, though.
But this is neither the time nor the place for that.
ha.
and now i have nothing to write.
I took some pictures today, but I don't really feel like posting them.
I hate to say it, but it might have something to do with a negative response I stumbled across.
And I should stress that it's only a small possibility that some stranger's insecure opinion would bother me.
It is somewhere in the back of my mind, though.
And that, combined with my extreme degrees of laziness, will make for a hard time getting pictures posted.
Mostly, I hate prudes.
I would tell them to all go fuck themselves, but y'know...
what would be the point?
They probably don't know how.
Smetimes I want to scream at people.
Just tell them to leave me the fuck alone.
But I don't.
Probably I should--
it would be "healthier".
psh.
Who's to say what's healthy???
Okay...
I just turned my music back on, and now I feel better.
...better, but in a sorta raging, happy-ish way.
I just want to spend my life describing things, telling stories, giving birth to characters and settings and endings.
Locked away in some ivory tower, with my muse.
My muse who would slide under my skin and make my fingers move.
My muse who would wrap me in his strong arms at night and fuck the writer's block out of me.
My muse who would take my hand and run across the dusty, shiny, cold, hot, wet, dry planet earth with me, on any and every adventure--
just so I would have things to write about.
How in the hell do I expect myself to come up with things to write about when I sit in my house all day every day???
okay, that was whiney.
I have a social life.
And I have some fun shit planned for this winter.
And maybe I'll even quit whining and start writing.
...but that would require taking a chance, making a commitment.
I did, however, get invited to join a writing group.
GULP.
That's the motivation/commitment that I need.
or want.
or should have.
or whatever.
I really love this song.
I don't much like Nickelback.
but.
this song.
is so hot.
yeah.
and if someone could swing by and give me a neck/back massage,
there would be something sweet in it for you.
YES--I mean cookies.
god damn, you guys are obsessed with sex and how it might feel to be pressing me against a wall and feeling my mouth on yours and fumbling with belts and panting and groaning and...
huh?
what?
where was I?
oh yeah.
cookies.
i'll make you...
cookies.
Happy fucking Braless Tuesday.
and stay out of my way.
I'm a steamroller today.
I'll put on my headphones.
Music?
Optional.
Okay, not really--
Music is NEVER optional.
But, y'know...I meant all that matters is blocking out the other noises.
yeah.
I guess you probably "got" that.
We decorated our tree last night.
No, not our apple tree, smartass.
Our strangely un-religious winter holiday tree.
Have I told you lately how frigging cute my kids are????
Well, they are.
FRIGGING cute.
They were totally excited and funny, though.
But this is neither the time nor the place for that.
ha.
and now i have nothing to write.
I took some pictures today, but I don't really feel like posting them.
I hate to say it, but it might have something to do with a negative response I stumbled across.
And I should stress that it's only a small possibility that some stranger's insecure opinion would bother me.
It is somewhere in the back of my mind, though.
And that, combined with my extreme degrees of laziness, will make for a hard time getting pictures posted.
Mostly, I hate prudes.
I would tell them to all go fuck themselves, but y'know...
what would be the point?
They probably don't know how.
Smetimes I want to scream at people.
Just tell them to leave me the fuck alone.
But I don't.
Probably I should--
it would be "healthier".
psh.
Who's to say what's healthy???
Okay...
I just turned my music back on, and now I feel better.
...better, but in a sorta raging, happy-ish way.
I just want to spend my life describing things, telling stories, giving birth to characters and settings and endings.
Locked away in some ivory tower, with my muse.
My muse who would slide under my skin and make my fingers move.
My muse who would wrap me in his strong arms at night and fuck the writer's block out of me.
My muse who would take my hand and run across the dusty, shiny, cold, hot, wet, dry planet earth with me, on any and every adventure--
just so I would have things to write about.
How in the hell do I expect myself to come up with things to write about when I sit in my house all day every day???
okay, that was whiney.
I have a social life.
And I have some fun shit planned for this winter.
And maybe I'll even quit whining and start writing.
...but that would require taking a chance, making a commitment.
I did, however, get invited to join a writing group.
GULP.
That's the motivation/commitment that I need.
or want.
or should have.
or whatever.
I really love this song.
I don't much like Nickelback.
but.
this song.
is so hot.
I like your pants around your feet
I like the dirt that's on your knees
I like the way you still say 'please' while you're looking up at me
You're like my favorite damn disease
yeah.
and if someone could swing by and give me a neck/back massage,
there would be something sweet in it for you.
YES--I mean cookies.
god damn, you guys are obsessed with sex and how it might feel to be pressing me against a wall and feeling my mouth on yours and fumbling with belts and panting and groaning and...
huh?
what?
where was I?
oh yeah.
cookies.
i'll make you...
cookies.
Happy fucking Braless Tuesday.
and stay out of my way.
I'm a steamroller today.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Mondays are for Manics, Maniacs, and Manatees
The rest of us should just sleep through it.
I just wrote a post.
I'm not saying it was brilliant.
Or even worth reading,
but.
it was effort.
and it is now wasted.
It was a rant about the garbage truck.
Aren't you sad you missed it?
I even went to the trouble to link the buzznet picture of my garbage lid--
(the one that says, "Lisa has nice boobs")
but it's too much work to do it again.
i fucking hate this computer.
So I did most of my christmas shopping yesterday.
and that was REALLY fun.
I love spending money--it makes me horny.
Or something.
In any case, it was a great time.
And winter is not really here for the moment, so that's always nice.
It was warm enough for golf over the weekend,
and I took the kids to the playground.
We didn't even need coats.
yeeeee haaaaw!!
I love Utah.
I did finally buy myself some winter boots
(and that is the second time i've typed "boots" as "boats" and had to correct it)
so I can go play with the kids in the snow.
I can't think of anything interesting to say.
So I should probably quit wasting your time.
and mine.
And bandwidth.
and air.
So tomorrow night is a dinner date with a group of girl friends.
Including the two who have said horrible things about me.
Should be interesting--
see if I can hold my tongue or not.
See if I can stand to look at them.
blah.
I hate girls.
so on that note,
have a peculiar day.
I just wrote a post.
I'm not saying it was brilliant.
Or even worth reading,
but.
it was effort.
and it is now wasted.
It was a rant about the garbage truck.
Aren't you sad you missed it?
I even went to the trouble to link the buzznet picture of my garbage lid--
(the one that says, "Lisa has nice boobs")
but it's too much work to do it again.
i fucking hate this computer.
So I did most of my christmas shopping yesterday.
and that was REALLY fun.
I love spending money--it makes me horny.
Or something.
In any case, it was a great time.
And winter is not really here for the moment, so that's always nice.
It was warm enough for golf over the weekend,
and I took the kids to the playground.
We didn't even need coats.
yeeeee haaaaw!!
I love Utah.
I did finally buy myself some winter boots
(and that is the second time i've typed "boots" as "boats" and had to correct it)
so I can go play with the kids in the snow.
I can't think of anything interesting to say.
So I should probably quit wasting your time.
and mine.
And bandwidth.
and air.
So tomorrow night is a dinner date with a group of girl friends.
Including the two who have said horrible things about me.
Should be interesting--
see if I can hold my tongue or not.
See if I can stand to look at them.
blah.
I hate girls.
so on that note,
have a peculiar day.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
my mouth is still watering
and it's not from the usual stimuli, perverts.
actually, we had a gorgeous dinner at a gorgeous restaurant.
now, utah has a bad habit of over-selling things.
or of hyping things--
you hear some movie or restaurant is great so many times, it just loses its impact.
well.
this place deserved the hype.
dunno if i would have felt the same had i been paying the bill...
holy fuck.
i mean, really, people.
what a waste of resources.
but it was incredible.
from the lobster bisque,
to the salad
to the Prime rib with yorkshire pudding (NOT jell-o style, btw--it's a puffy little pastry/bread thingy.)
and ending with a big old flaming bowl of bananas, rum and ice cream...
(bananas foster)
perfection.
and the atmosphere was lovely.
and everything was in french, so i felt smartsie fartsie when i knew what it all meant.
and the uniforms?
hubba hubba.
pastoral french boustiers and long velvety skirts...
yum.
(we're frantically looking into buying one for me.)
it was amazing, start to finish.
and the pace was wonderful--
i never felt rushed, or impatient--or too full.
oh!!
and one of the entre items was 3 lobster tails...
the name of this dish was: Menage de Trois
of COURSE my husband wanted to order that.
we giggled over all the silly things we could ask the waitress--
"do you recommend the menage a trois?"
of course, purposely mis-phrasing it.
i would not let him order it, though (and i don't think he's going to forgive me).
the reason?
well...
instead of listing a price, it said, "financing available"...
and while I'm ALL for spending other people's money--
i just thought that it would be in poor taste to order that.
i was guessing it was around a hundred dollars for that entree, based on the other listed prices.
it was...
exorbitant.
decadent.
wonderful.
goodnight.
actually, we had a gorgeous dinner at a gorgeous restaurant.
now, utah has a bad habit of over-selling things.
or of hyping things--
you hear some movie or restaurant is great so many times, it just loses its impact.
well.
this place deserved the hype.
dunno if i would have felt the same had i been paying the bill...
holy fuck.
i mean, really, people.
what a waste of resources.
but it was incredible.
from the lobster bisque,
to the salad
to the Prime rib with yorkshire pudding (NOT jell-o style, btw--it's a puffy little pastry/bread thingy.)
and ending with a big old flaming bowl of bananas, rum and ice cream...
(bananas foster)
perfection.
and the atmosphere was lovely.
and everything was in french, so i felt smartsie fartsie when i knew what it all meant.
and the uniforms?
hubba hubba.
pastoral french boustiers and long velvety skirts...
yum.
(we're frantically looking into buying one for me.)
it was amazing, start to finish.
and the pace was wonderful--
i never felt rushed, or impatient--or too full.
oh!!
and one of the entre items was 3 lobster tails...
the name of this dish was: Menage de Trois
of COURSE my husband wanted to order that.
we giggled over all the silly things we could ask the waitress--
"do you recommend the menage a trois?"
of course, purposely mis-phrasing it.
i would not let him order it, though (and i don't think he's going to forgive me).
the reason?
well...
instead of listing a price, it said, "financing available"...
and while I'm ALL for spending other people's money--
i just thought that it would be in poor taste to order that.
i was guessing it was around a hundred dollars for that entree, based on the other listed prices.
it was...
exorbitant.
decadent.
wonderful.
goodnight.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
sushi, racquetball and not christmas shopping
--a perfect way to spend a friday night, i think.
wow.
you know you're watching TVLand when the commercials are for a new knee replacement surgery and metamucil.
but, hey--it's Alf's Hit Talk Show, so how can you pass that up??
(it's pretty funny, actually)
today is a busy day--
gym, bowling, christmas tree up, and HOPEFULLY, start the god damned christmas shopping.
we have such a short list this year, due to a new family policy of name-drawing,
that we don't even know what to do with ourselves.
down from a list of 40 to a list of 10.
that calls for a nice loud, "Fuckin' A!!"
i mean...
i'm as generous as the next guy, but...
40 people is too many.
and my stomach is growling.
i haven't had breakfast yet.
but i have had a couple of orgasms.
(part of my new diet idea)
am I talking?
I feel like I'm just rambling incoherantly...
no, this would not be much of a change from the usual fare.
but i'll go.
and report back later.
or something.
fuck you.
and YOU.
and definitely you, ya fuckin' prick.
or at least read yesterday's fantasy.
AND LEAVE A COMMENT.
wow.
you know you're watching TVLand when the commercials are for a new knee replacement surgery and metamucil.
but, hey--it's Alf's Hit Talk Show, so how can you pass that up??
(it's pretty funny, actually)
today is a busy day--
gym, bowling, christmas tree up, and HOPEFULLY, start the god damned christmas shopping.
we have such a short list this year, due to a new family policy of name-drawing,
that we don't even know what to do with ourselves.
down from a list of 40 to a list of 10.
that calls for a nice loud, "Fuckin' A!!"
i mean...
i'm as generous as the next guy, but...
40 people is too many.
and my stomach is growling.
i haven't had breakfast yet.
but i have had a couple of orgasms.
(part of my new diet idea)
am I talking?
I feel like I'm just rambling incoherantly...
no, this would not be much of a change from the usual fare.
but i'll go.
and report back later.
or something.
fuck you.
and YOU.
and definitely you, ya fuckin' prick.
or at least read yesterday's fantasy.
AND LEAVE A COMMENT.
Friday, December 10, 2004
Fantasy Friday #51
(kind of like Area 51...only sexier, and a much lower concentration of aliens)
okay, just to recap:
these are my fantasies.
and i write them down just as i see them--
no revisions, no planning.
and they're not erotica.
DAMMIT.
I just lost the post.
I had only written a few sentences, but it's still distressing.
It interupts my flow of thought.
grrr.
It is a more-than-beautiful day here.
The snow covered mountains are crowned by gentle clouds,
dark in the center and the newly risen sun shines through the edges,
pinkishly.
The sky is blue, but not very sharp yet.
I love these stupid fucking mountains.
************
FANTASY FRIDAY
The thing is...
it doesn't matter where we are.
It doesn't matter what has led us to this point.
All that is important, or worth mentioning, is that we are together.
We are looking into each other's eyes.
...whether it's the first time or the two thousandth time...
there will be such passion as to startle anyone who might witness it.
The love pours out of us, like a burst dam, and lights up the whole world--
or at least our version of the world.
We would say it every day...
although neither of us would need to hear it, because it would be a fact--
less disputable than the presence of an ocean or a mountain,
more a part of the fabric of life than the laws of physics or the colors of a rainbow.
Whether we are in the backseat of a car, or a cheap motel, or our own house,
your mouth still finds mine, and your hands still know where to touch, how to touch.
Dragging your finger over my skin feels like glitter looks.
Whether you remove my panties roughly, or slowly (or just pull them to the side),
it's always the key to making me reach for you with all of my body.
encounter # 463:
Just driving to the store, I catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye--
and I'm wet.
I need you right then.
I don't say a word, or make a move--
But you know.
You make me wait until we are finished at the store and head back...
I am squirming--nearly panting with need.
Your eyes twinkle.
You need me, too--
your hand shakes as you unlock the door,
and your breathing comes raggedly as you slowly undress me.
Both of us crazy with desire,
we tumble to the bed and you slide inside,
without a speck of "foreplay"...the waiting was enough.
It is a frantic rush to the finish line,
with hands groping and mouths crushed together,
not quite muffling the groans.
We tie...a photo finsh, perhaps...
encounter #812:
I am relaxing in a tub full of hot water and slippery, scented oils.
Sipping a glass of wine, I listen to opera, with only the light of candles...
You're supposed to be out for the evening.
I hear the door open, and jump.
You step through it, holding a large bunch of roses.
We smile and talk...
as you casually undress and slip into the water with me.
We continue talking about mundane things,
as I gently wash your back and kiss your neck.
(i cut it off here, by mistake. here's the rest:)
The conversation tapers off,
And my hands wander across your body,
Pausing to tease a nipple, and sliding down to caress your rock hardness.
You groan softly and settle back against my breasts, as my legs wrap around yours and my hands work slowly, surely.
You grip my ankles and breathe in sharply--
I giggle and remove my hands, sitting back to let you change positions.
We slip and slide over each other, slick from the bath oil.
Your skin glows in the candle-light and your piercing eyes are softened by it.
We make waves, and quite a mess on the floor around the tub,
as the water sloshes out, in a rhythm as old as the tides.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
I hope you all are getting in the Christmas spirit!!
okay, just to recap:
these are my fantasies.
and i write them down just as i see them--
no revisions, no planning.
and they're not erotica.
DAMMIT.
I just lost the post.
I had only written a few sentences, but it's still distressing.
It interupts my flow of thought.
grrr.
It is a more-than-beautiful day here.
The snow covered mountains are crowned by gentle clouds,
dark in the center and the newly risen sun shines through the edges,
pinkishly.
The sky is blue, but not very sharp yet.
I love these stupid fucking mountains.
************
FANTASY FRIDAY
The thing is...
it doesn't matter where we are.
It doesn't matter what has led us to this point.
All that is important, or worth mentioning, is that we are together.
We are looking into each other's eyes.
...whether it's the first time or the two thousandth time...
there will be such passion as to startle anyone who might witness it.
The love pours out of us, like a burst dam, and lights up the whole world--
or at least our version of the world.
We would say it every day...
although neither of us would need to hear it, because it would be a fact--
less disputable than the presence of an ocean or a mountain,
more a part of the fabric of life than the laws of physics or the colors of a rainbow.
Whether we are in the backseat of a car, or a cheap motel, or our own house,
your mouth still finds mine, and your hands still know where to touch, how to touch.
Dragging your finger over my skin feels like glitter looks.
Whether you remove my panties roughly, or slowly (or just pull them to the side),
it's always the key to making me reach for you with all of my body.
encounter # 463:
Just driving to the store, I catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of my eye--
and I'm wet.
I need you right then.
I don't say a word, or make a move--
But you know.
You make me wait until we are finished at the store and head back...
I am squirming--nearly panting with need.
Your eyes twinkle.
You need me, too--
your hand shakes as you unlock the door,
and your breathing comes raggedly as you slowly undress me.
Both of us crazy with desire,
we tumble to the bed and you slide inside,
without a speck of "foreplay"...the waiting was enough.
It is a frantic rush to the finish line,
with hands groping and mouths crushed together,
not quite muffling the groans.
We tie...a photo finsh, perhaps...
encounter #812:
I am relaxing in a tub full of hot water and slippery, scented oils.
Sipping a glass of wine, I listen to opera, with only the light of candles...
You're supposed to be out for the evening.
I hear the door open, and jump.
You step through it, holding a large bunch of roses.
We smile and talk...
as you casually undress and slip into the water with me.
We continue talking about mundane things,
as I gently wash your back and kiss your neck.
(i cut it off here, by mistake. here's the rest:)
The conversation tapers off,
And my hands wander across your body,
Pausing to tease a nipple, and sliding down to caress your rock hardness.
You groan softly and settle back against my breasts, as my legs wrap around yours and my hands work slowly, surely.
You grip my ankles and breathe in sharply--
I giggle and remove my hands, sitting back to let you change positions.
We slip and slide over each other, slick from the bath oil.
Your skin glows in the candle-light and your piercing eyes are softened by it.
We make waves, and quite a mess on the floor around the tub,
as the water sloshes out, in a rhythm as old as the tides.
Have a great weekend, everyone.
I hope you all are getting in the Christmas spirit!!
Thursday, December 09, 2004
what the FUCK did i do to deserve yesterday??
WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT (OF A STOMACH-TURNING NATURE) TO FOLLOW
well...
let's play a game of "Which is Worse", shall we?
Which is worse--
being stranded on (a narrow shoulder by the fast lane of) the freeway when your belt snaps and narrowly avoiding getting rearended in the tow truck as he pulls back into traffic
OR
finally getting to a restroom after said ordeal and finding (gulp) SEMEN on the seat and floor?
huh?
answer me, dammit!
which is worse??
i sure as hell don't know.
actually, i'm going with the bathroom incident as "worst"--
first of all, it was one of those single-user bathrooms,
and i opened the door to find a man standing there.
i blurted my apology,
he smiled and said, "no problem" and exited.
he was FULLY CLOTHED, for the record.
so then i double-checked the door to make sure it was locked...
and gingerly lowered the toilet seat.
THANK GOD i'm right handed...
i'm nearly dry-heaving just at the thought of putting my finger in that gunk.
(funny how a stranger's is "gunk" but a lover's is...in a whole other category)
and in a public restroom i always meticulously inspect the seat before covering it--
and that's when i saw it.
took a second to register...
then i jumped back.
i would like to report that I didn't use that toilet.
i really would.
however...
it had already been an hour, and i had no idea when my husband might be arriving.
there were no other bathroom choices nearby.
so.
i set about cleaning the (small) mess.
and covering that seat with nearly a whole roll of toilet paper.
then hovering over, rather than touching, the seat.
and vigorously scrubbing my hands, then dousing them with antibacterial scrub.
yeah.
that was fun.
guys?
if you're going to beat off in a public--UNISEX--bathroom?
please clean up your mess.
...although, at least this way, i knew what i was dealing with, right?
ick.
sorry...i hope no one was trying to eat or anything.
sometimes i forget that i have a pretty strong stomach.
i'll add a warning...
and what IS it with me and cars lately???
the freeway thing didn't bother me much--more of an annoyance than anything.
(making me late)
but, i realllly did think that fucking moron was going to rear end us.
he screeched to a halt in the breakdown lane,
just as crazy larry pulled out into traffic.
and THEN, my husband picked me up and took me to the "christmas party"--
which i put in quotes because there were only 6 of us there.
it was a lovely dinner with lovely company.
i was a little nervous...
but it went very well.
then, on the way down the mountain, we drove about 10 mph,
and it's a good thing, too--
we hit several patches of ice and slid all over the place.
then we reached the warmer air and it was safe driving from there.
blah.
i wanna move to hawaii.
unless there are perverts there, too.
in which case, i'm out of luck.
oh, and it was confirmed once again that i suck shit at keeping track of my spending.
this annoys me almost as much as it annoys my husband...
i hate it when i do stupid things.
so now i'm on probation or whatever.
bah.
I suck.
(but at least i'm good at it)
oh well.
there was good news yesterday, too.
we found someone who wants to RENT our house,
which means that we can buy a new one as soon as we find one.
and i really wanted to keep this one as a rental, anyway.
i just hope we get the house we made an offer on...
okay.
that's enough of the real life crap.
let's talk about sex.
why is it that i can't say that, without thinking of George Michael???
it has nothing to do with the fact that i was madly in love with him when i was 12.
i mean, come on, who wasn't??
it was the 80's, for chrissake.
so.
sex?
um...
i want to lick my way up the inside of your thigh,
my nails lightly digging into the sides of your ass as i find my destination.
have a great thursday--
well...
let's play a game of "Which is Worse", shall we?
Which is worse--
being stranded on (a narrow shoulder by the fast lane of) the freeway when your belt snaps and narrowly avoiding getting rearended in the tow truck as he pulls back into traffic
OR
finally getting to a restroom after said ordeal and finding (gulp) SEMEN on the seat and floor?
huh?
answer me, dammit!
which is worse??
i sure as hell don't know.
actually, i'm going with the bathroom incident as "worst"--
first of all, it was one of those single-user bathrooms,
and i opened the door to find a man standing there.
i blurted my apology,
he smiled and said, "no problem" and exited.
he was FULLY CLOTHED, for the record.
so then i double-checked the door to make sure it was locked...
and gingerly lowered the toilet seat.
THANK GOD i'm right handed...
i'm nearly dry-heaving just at the thought of putting my finger in that gunk.
(funny how a stranger's is "gunk" but a lover's is...in a whole other category)
and in a public restroom i always meticulously inspect the seat before covering it--
and that's when i saw it.
took a second to register...
then i jumped back.
i would like to report that I didn't use that toilet.
i really would.
however...
it had already been an hour, and i had no idea when my husband might be arriving.
there were no other bathroom choices nearby.
so.
i set about cleaning the (small) mess.
and covering that seat with nearly a whole roll of toilet paper.
then hovering over, rather than touching, the seat.
and vigorously scrubbing my hands, then dousing them with antibacterial scrub.
yeah.
that was fun.
guys?
if you're going to beat off in a public--UNISEX--bathroom?
please clean up your mess.
...although, at least this way, i knew what i was dealing with, right?
ick.
sorry...i hope no one was trying to eat or anything.
sometimes i forget that i have a pretty strong stomach.
i'll add a warning...
and what IS it with me and cars lately???
the freeway thing didn't bother me much--more of an annoyance than anything.
(making me late)
but, i realllly did think that fucking moron was going to rear end us.
he screeched to a halt in the breakdown lane,
just as crazy larry pulled out into traffic.
and THEN, my husband picked me up and took me to the "christmas party"--
which i put in quotes because there were only 6 of us there.
it was a lovely dinner with lovely company.
i was a little nervous...
but it went very well.
then, on the way down the mountain, we drove about 10 mph,
and it's a good thing, too--
we hit several patches of ice and slid all over the place.
then we reached the warmer air and it was safe driving from there.
blah.
i wanna move to hawaii.
unless there are perverts there, too.
in which case, i'm out of luck.
oh, and it was confirmed once again that i suck shit at keeping track of my spending.
this annoys me almost as much as it annoys my husband...
i hate it when i do stupid things.
so now i'm on probation or whatever.
bah.
I suck.
(but at least i'm good at it)
oh well.
there was good news yesterday, too.
we found someone who wants to RENT our house,
which means that we can buy a new one as soon as we find one.
and i really wanted to keep this one as a rental, anyway.
i just hope we get the house we made an offer on...
okay.
that's enough of the real life crap.
let's talk about sex.
why is it that i can't say that, without thinking of George Michael???
it has nothing to do with the fact that i was madly in love with him when i was 12.
i mean, come on, who wasn't??
it was the 80's, for chrissake.
so.
sex?
um...
i want to lick my way up the inside of your thigh,
my nails lightly digging into the sides of your ass as i find my destination.
have a great thursday--
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
i don't know if i have anything to say
but i imagine i'll say a whole bunch of nothing, at the very least.
my husband cut his hair yesterday...
he warned me, but i didn't take him seriously--
and i was shocked!
he had been growing it out...
it was down to his shoulders.
he has...
GORGEOUS hair.
blonde.
thick enough, with enough body, etc.
looks sooooooo good that length.
bah.
oh well.
and then...
he relayed some extremely interesting/horrendous gossip--
ABOUT US.
completely untrue, awful things.
supposedly originating with one of my closest friends.
i will give the benefit of the doubt--
that it mutated through several parties and didn't start out so hurtful*.
but.
it would certainly explain her behavior, these past few months.
i don't know how she could believe those things, though.
especially when part of the story is something that she was a huge part of,
so she should know what really happened.
fuck.
have i mentioned how much i FUCKING HATE gossips?
and talking behind people's backs???
i'm not perfect, either, but--
this is beyond gray area.
this is pure spiteful, deceptive cruelty.
okay, i'm getting myself worked up again.
so i'll stop.
i just don't understand people...
i would NEVER do something to hurt anyone on purpose--
especially a friend.
whatever.
someone mentioned a new theme day--
"Wet Wednesday"...
i LOVE the idea.
but...
i don't know.
i've been struggling with Fantasy Fridays, as it is...
so...
i don't think i'll attempt that right away.
it could better be named "Whining Wednesday", i believe.
oooh, but the sound of it...
Wet Wednesday...
makes me think of women--
all over the country, maybe the world...
sitting in their offices or at the computer in their living room/bedroom/den...
reading something.
and their lips would part,
as their breathing pattern changed.
their knees would drop open, involuntarily--
a biological response to their mind's suggestion that sex might be on the menu.
their panties dampening as they fill in the vivid colors around someone else's black and white words...
each one letting herself believe that the man in the story is on his way through her door,
that he looks just as she wants him to.
that he'll behave just as she needs him to.
and each woman will, in her own time, in her own way...
slide a hand down the front of her panties--
eager to touch the wetness that is building,
ready to please herself as her mind tells her it is that man doing it--
or that woman.
and i suppose...
in my image of "wet" i have forgotten my favorite ones of all...
the men.
they make a bit of wetness, too, don't they?
each one, in his cubicle, office or home,
reading some words...
and feeling that tightening of skin, that pressing of flesh against fabric.
if they are lucky, they will be able to unzip, unbutton--unleash
and put a hand around that hot hardness,
as their breathing grows faster and their mind plays out the scene i've sketched...
yes.
Wet Wednesdays.
I'll think about it...
_________________________
*I used an adjective because I was modifying the noun, "gossip"--not the action involved in gossipING...just because it sounds as though it should be "hurtfully" but that's not how i mean it...i suck. go away.
my husband cut his hair yesterday...
he warned me, but i didn't take him seriously--
and i was shocked!
he had been growing it out...
it was down to his shoulders.
he has...
GORGEOUS hair.
blonde.
thick enough, with enough body, etc.
looks sooooooo good that length.
bah.
oh well.
and then...
he relayed some extremely interesting/horrendous gossip--
ABOUT US.
completely untrue, awful things.
supposedly originating with one of my closest friends.
i will give the benefit of the doubt--
that it mutated through several parties and didn't start out so hurtful*.
but.
it would certainly explain her behavior, these past few months.
i don't know how she could believe those things, though.
especially when part of the story is something that she was a huge part of,
so she should know what really happened.
fuck.
have i mentioned how much i FUCKING HATE gossips?
and talking behind people's backs???
i'm not perfect, either, but--
this is beyond gray area.
this is pure spiteful, deceptive cruelty.
okay, i'm getting myself worked up again.
so i'll stop.
i just don't understand people...
i would NEVER do something to hurt anyone on purpose--
especially a friend.
whatever.
someone mentioned a new theme day--
"Wet Wednesday"...
i LOVE the idea.
but...
i don't know.
i've been struggling with Fantasy Fridays, as it is...
so...
i don't think i'll attempt that right away.
it could better be named "Whining Wednesday", i believe.
oooh, but the sound of it...
Wet Wednesday...
makes me think of women--
all over the country, maybe the world...
sitting in their offices or at the computer in their living room/bedroom/den...
reading something.
and their lips would part,
as their breathing pattern changed.
their knees would drop open, involuntarily--
a biological response to their mind's suggestion that sex might be on the menu.
their panties dampening as they fill in the vivid colors around someone else's black and white words...
each one letting herself believe that the man in the story is on his way through her door,
that he looks just as she wants him to.
that he'll behave just as she needs him to.
and each woman will, in her own time, in her own way...
slide a hand down the front of her panties--
eager to touch the wetness that is building,
ready to please herself as her mind tells her it is that man doing it--
or that woman.
and i suppose...
in my image of "wet" i have forgotten my favorite ones of all...
the men.
they make a bit of wetness, too, don't they?
each one, in his cubicle, office or home,
reading some words...
and feeling that tightening of skin, that pressing of flesh against fabric.
if they are lucky, they will be able to unzip, unbutton--unleash
and put a hand around that hot hardness,
as their breathing grows faster and their mind plays out the scene i've sketched...
yes.
Wet Wednesdays.
I'll think about it...
_________________________
*I used an adjective because I was modifying the noun, "gossip"--not the action involved in gossipING...just because it sounds as though it should be "hurtfully" but that's not how i mean it...i suck. go away.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
mornings are not my strong suit
...and sometimes i wonder if living is out of my grasp, too.
or at least interpersonal relationships.
i think.
that i'll remind myself that this is my "journal",
so i can write whatever the fuck i want.
and then i'll stretch, and yawn.
and walk away from the desk.
and now that i'm back--
i'll behave.
shit, so much for that.
this is probably not making sense...
i should put a time stamp on each line.
i am extra grumpy this morning, and so i walked away from the machine for a few minutes, to try to jumpstart my post.
so it wouldn't be YET ANOTHER whiney, bitchy, ranty thing.
and then, when i got back and felt refreshed and ready to go...
i got back into a bit of an argument that had started before the post.
i was just hoping to start the day with a smile and some warmth...
not by being shoved into conflict.
but mostly i'm annoyed at myself for being so utterly out of control of my own reactions in the morning hours.
it frustrates the hell out of me.
i literally do not have full fuctionality of the emotional aspects of my brain before i've completely awakened--
and this has been known to take close to an hour.
i've always been like that, as far back as i can remember.
it basically comes when i'm required to issue a response of some variety--
like answering a question or giving an opinion.
should i wear a medic-alert bracelet, with neon flashing letters, announcing this to people?
YES.
if only they had one for that.
i am handicapped.
i'll admit it.
and by the time the cobwebs have cleared,
i will sheepishly apologize.
to any and all who stood in the path of my unfounded fury.
so now that you've attended the first lecture in the 20 part series, "Mornings with Lisa 101"...
maybe we can get on to the good stuff.
like...
the fact that it's Braless Tuesday.
and maybe after i shower i'll take a new picture for today.
even if this is getting a bit stale.
i'm just wishing the other sexy readers i have would send me their braless (NOT topless) photos.
cuz...
as much as we all love MY tits?
there are plenty of other lovely sets out there.
tis the season.
to be fucking grouchy.
so.
i'll think about the snow.
and how it might feel to be swishing down the side of a mountain right now.
all bundled up, tunes blasting--
yummmm.
and then i lose control and hurtle toward certain death,
crashing to a halt as my skiis get tangled,
and as i lay there looking up at the falling snow--
a hot young ski instructor comes to offer me a hand.
great.
thanks.
i had a dream last night that i was in prison.
with an actress, whose name escapes me.
redundently enough...we escaped.
just sorta walked out.
it was really fucking weird.
sometimes i feel like no matter what i do, it's not enough.
and sometimes i don't have the energy to do much of anything to begin with.
and sometimes there are too many choices--
too many things i want and not enough time or space or guts to have them all.
and then.
instead of apologizing for this post, i'll again remind myself that it's my URL.
but i will apologize to the person i was arguing with.
and i'll remind myself that the world owes its vast and varied beauty to its diversity,
and that life is the same way--
highs, lows, contrast, yadda yadda yadda.
what a shitty post.
(that's NOT an apology...but i am sorry. i'll post some good pictures in a bit...)
or at least interpersonal relationships.
i think.
that i'll remind myself that this is my "journal",
so i can write whatever the fuck i want.
and then i'll stretch, and yawn.
and walk away from the desk.
and now that i'm back--
i'll behave.
shit, so much for that.
this is probably not making sense...
i should put a time stamp on each line.
i am extra grumpy this morning, and so i walked away from the machine for a few minutes, to try to jumpstart my post.
so it wouldn't be YET ANOTHER whiney, bitchy, ranty thing.
and then, when i got back and felt refreshed and ready to go...
i got back into a bit of an argument that had started before the post.
i was just hoping to start the day with a smile and some warmth...
not by being shoved into conflict.
but mostly i'm annoyed at myself for being so utterly out of control of my own reactions in the morning hours.
it frustrates the hell out of me.
i literally do not have full fuctionality of the emotional aspects of my brain before i've completely awakened--
and this has been known to take close to an hour.
i've always been like that, as far back as i can remember.
it basically comes when i'm required to issue a response of some variety--
like answering a question or giving an opinion.
should i wear a medic-alert bracelet, with neon flashing letters, announcing this to people?
YES.
if only they had one for that.
i am handicapped.
i'll admit it.
and by the time the cobwebs have cleared,
i will sheepishly apologize.
to any and all who stood in the path of my unfounded fury.
so now that you've attended the first lecture in the 20 part series, "Mornings with Lisa 101"...
maybe we can get on to the good stuff.
like...
the fact that it's Braless Tuesday.
and maybe after i shower i'll take a new picture for today.
even if this is getting a bit stale.
i'm just wishing the other sexy readers i have would send me their braless (NOT topless) photos.
cuz...
as much as we all love MY tits?
there are plenty of other lovely sets out there.
tis the season.
to be fucking grouchy.
so.
i'll think about the snow.
and how it might feel to be swishing down the side of a mountain right now.
all bundled up, tunes blasting--
yummmm.
and then i lose control and hurtle toward certain death,
crashing to a halt as my skiis get tangled,
and as i lay there looking up at the falling snow--
a hot young ski instructor comes to offer me a hand.
great.
thanks.
i had a dream last night that i was in prison.
with an actress, whose name escapes me.
redundently enough...we escaped.
just sorta walked out.
it was really fucking weird.
sometimes i feel like no matter what i do, it's not enough.
and sometimes i don't have the energy to do much of anything to begin with.
and sometimes there are too many choices--
too many things i want and not enough time or space or guts to have them all.
and then.
instead of apologizing for this post, i'll again remind myself that it's my URL.
but i will apologize to the person i was arguing with.
and i'll remind myself that the world owes its vast and varied beauty to its diversity,
and that life is the same way--
highs, lows, contrast, yadda yadda yadda.
what a shitty post.
(that's NOT an apology...but i am sorry. i'll post some good pictures in a bit...)
Monday, December 06, 2004
well.
i can't even think right now.
but who said THAT was a requirement for blogging?
no one, that's who.
cold salmon for breakfast is never a bad thing.
in fact, it is one of my favorite things in all the world.
my impatience could be measured in metric tons.
this is not something i'm proud of, as patience is considered a virtue.
i'm not sure what i was thinking of, when i was reminded of my lack of patience.
but who cares?
not me.
i feel...
achy.
and empty.
so i think instead of digging (like fingers in moist earth) for something to say...
i'll just let something flow and then sign off.
i'm typing with my eyes closed right now.
head back.
deep breathing.
and still--
the damned disney channel is seeping into my awareness.
i have changed a lot in the past year or so...
i used to watch tv.
not more than average, i imagine.
but i enjoyed it.
now?
i would rather sit here and do this than anything else.
i haven't even read a book in months.
besides the ones i've taken to the gym for entertainment.
and i yearn.
but i'm tired of yearning.
i wonder if they would see the lust sparkling on my breath?
or hear the poetry flowing just below my skin?
i wonder if they would taste the salt on their tongues as my tears sat silently waiting to spill.
and what i really want to know, more than anything else, is if i am meant to live a life like this, or like that, or maybe a whole different kind of life that i've never even imagined.
this life is good.
it's happy and sweet.
and cuddly and soft.
but what about the jagged and shiny lives?
or the twirly and glittery lives?
where are the steep and exhilarating lives?
oh yes.
these lives are in my head, on my fingertips.
i can construct them carefully on a hard disk--
or, more likely, i can spill them out in a rush of excitement and need.
sloppily intertwined--mixed up like a jar of spare buttons.
i want to sink my arms into a pile of loose sand...
while feeling cool salty air on my face, contrasting with the hot sun on my back.
and each grain of sand is a character in a story i want to tell.
blah.
i'm going to go eat cookies.
but who said THAT was a requirement for blogging?
no one, that's who.
cold salmon for breakfast is never a bad thing.
in fact, it is one of my favorite things in all the world.
my impatience could be measured in metric tons.
this is not something i'm proud of, as patience is considered a virtue.
i'm not sure what i was thinking of, when i was reminded of my lack of patience.
but who cares?
not me.
i feel...
achy.
and empty.
so i think instead of digging (like fingers in moist earth) for something to say...
i'll just let something flow and then sign off.
i'm typing with my eyes closed right now.
head back.
deep breathing.
and still--
the damned disney channel is seeping into my awareness.
i have changed a lot in the past year or so...
i used to watch tv.
not more than average, i imagine.
but i enjoyed it.
now?
i would rather sit here and do this than anything else.
i haven't even read a book in months.
besides the ones i've taken to the gym for entertainment.
and i yearn.
but i'm tired of yearning.
i wonder if they would see the lust sparkling on my breath?
or hear the poetry flowing just below my skin?
i wonder if they would taste the salt on their tongues as my tears sat silently waiting to spill.
and what i really want to know, more than anything else, is if i am meant to live a life like this, or like that, or maybe a whole different kind of life that i've never even imagined.
this life is good.
it's happy and sweet.
and cuddly and soft.
but what about the jagged and shiny lives?
or the twirly and glittery lives?
where are the steep and exhilarating lives?
oh yes.
these lives are in my head, on my fingertips.
i can construct them carefully on a hard disk--
or, more likely, i can spill them out in a rush of excitement and need.
sloppily intertwined--mixed up like a jar of spare buttons.
i want to sink my arms into a pile of loose sand...
while feeling cool salty air on my face, contrasting with the hot sun on my back.
and each grain of sand is a character in a story i want to tell.
blah.
i'm going to go eat cookies.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
because it's sunday....
and it's the holidays.
and there is general warmth being spread around like an STD in a small town.
those are the reasons i'm here, writing a post.
at least, that's what i want you to think.
i actually have a hidden agenda.
...'though it's not so hidden anymore, is it?
well.
actually, it is, because I don't even know what it is.
sometimes...
i even confuse myself.
which would be rather less fun than to abuse oneself.
heh.
so.
i spent several hours on the phone today.
what with the phone getting lost under the couch cushion.
get it?
ON the phone.
snort.
yes.
i may be high.
sugar is the only possible culprit, but i'm comfortable with blaming it.
i fucking HATE sugar.
...or more precisely, i hate my addiction to it.
I wish that sugar was a diuretic.
that would fucking rock.
sugar and butter and chocolate chips, when mixed, provide the ultimate weight loss tool!!
that would be the coolest.
thing.
ever.
i bundled the kids up like fucking eskimos (sidenote: i wonder if eskimos fuck differently than us, since they kiss with their noses? would they...perhaps rub asses? hmmm)
so i bundled the kids up to play in the snow--
only to find out that it was 70 degrees out there.
well.
not quite 70, but DAMN it was warm.
they were sweating like professional athletes when they came inside.
oh well.
better than frostbite.
we're heading out to do the bulk of our christmas shopping in a few minutes.
should betorture festive fun time-consuming.
nah, i'm looking forward to it.
after all, it's a sunday afternoon in UTAH COUNTY.
this means empty stores.
wooooooooo hoooooooooo.
and a side serving of yeeeeeeeeeee haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw.
husband's company x-mas party this week.
that'll be hot.
and cross your fingers for me, but i'm thiiiiis close to getting to go to the bay area with the mr. for one of his business trippies in january.
well, i'll be going for the weekend part.
i've never bean (yes, i did that on purpose, so you'd have to pronounce it like some fruit cake. or a canadian?) to that part of Cali.
and i'm VERRRRRRRY excited.
now i must dress.
good bye to you.
and there is general warmth being spread around like an STD in a small town.
those are the reasons i'm here, writing a post.
at least, that's what i want you to think.
i actually have a hidden agenda.
...'though it's not so hidden anymore, is it?
well.
actually, it is, because I don't even know what it is.
sometimes...
i even confuse myself.
which would be rather less fun than to abuse oneself.
heh.
so.
i spent several hours on the phone today.
what with the phone getting lost under the couch cushion.
get it?
ON the phone.
snort.
yes.
i may be high.
sugar is the only possible culprit, but i'm comfortable with blaming it.
i fucking HATE sugar.
...or more precisely, i hate my addiction to it.
I wish that sugar was a diuretic.
that would fucking rock.
sugar and butter and chocolate chips, when mixed, provide the ultimate weight loss tool!!
that would be the coolest.
thing.
ever.
i bundled the kids up like fucking eskimos (sidenote: i wonder if eskimos fuck differently than us, since they kiss with their noses? would they...perhaps rub asses? hmmm)
so i bundled the kids up to play in the snow--
only to find out that it was 70 degrees out there.
well.
not quite 70, but DAMN it was warm.
they were sweating like professional athletes when they came inside.
oh well.
better than frostbite.
we're heading out to do the bulk of our christmas shopping in a few minutes.
should be
nah, i'm looking forward to it.
after all, it's a sunday afternoon in UTAH COUNTY.
this means empty stores.
wooooooooo hoooooooooo.
and a side serving of yeeeeeeeeeee haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw.
husband's company x-mas party this week.
that'll be hot.
and cross your fingers for me, but i'm thiiiiis close to getting to go to the bay area with the mr. for one of his business trippies in january.
well, i'll be going for the weekend part.
i've never bean (yes, i did that on purpose, so you'd have to pronounce it like some fruit cake. or a canadian?) to that part of Cali.
and i'm VERRRRRRRY excited.
now i must dress.
good bye to you.
Friday, December 03, 2004
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