Tuesday, January 20, 2004

good grief

nice friggin nap.
they usually sleep for 2 hours.
today it was under an hour.

and there's a cat in my garage.
and it's not mine.
what the fuck??
is there an invisible force field around my house that only keeps out people i'd like to see and horses?
or maybe there's a huge welcome sign written in animal language.

and i still haven't showered.
god DAMN it.
all i want is some peace and quiet.
no chance of that happening.
oh well, i'm used to it.

I think that if max would stop asking for a different food every 3 minutes i might get something done...
a sandwich...
he eats 2 bites.
3 bites.
grapes, apple?
now, grapefruit.
no, says I.
not until you finish one of the other 4 plates of food i've given you.
and of course he's whiney as hell because he got half the nap he needed.
so that makes me whiney as hell.

i was so hoping to have some peace and quiet so i could write something halfway interesting or entertaining or stimulating or ovulating.

but this is my life.

kay, i'm holding little "would you like some cheese to go with that?" and that's a pretty good mute button for the moment.
i'll keep you posted.
aren't you thrilled??
and you thought this was going to be a dull post.
i'm full of witty, insightful commentary.
either that or shit.
they feel about the same, it's hard to tell until i get started...

so i am getting readier and readier (is that a word? and what the hell happened to my superior spelling/grammar skills? i mean, lordy. i'm almost not better than everyone else anymore. and that's scary. how will i face myself?? and if i could remember what i was talking about before the parentheses, maybe i'd close them and finish the sentence, but i can't, so i'll have to stall. nope, i lost it. now i feel terribly akward about the whole open parentheses thing...maybe i'll just close it and run...)

so it appears that i missed out on the next big thing in blogging.
that's right.
The Real World Blogger Style
i thought about applying, but i figured with kids and a strange diet plan, i'd never fit in.
i wouldn't be comfortable leaving my husband to manage the kids for that long, and eating carefully is hard to do when you're spending so much time in a social setting.
so, maybe next season.
the house looks nice, though.
and i was looking forward to late nights, light beers and naked hot tub rendez vous with some of dear fellow bloggers, but i'm used to disappointment.
just kidding.
i'm actually used to getting my way.
every time.
or else.
hubby calls it spoiled.
i call it persuasive...

i feel like hitchhiking to Vegas (yes it's just a coincidence) getting drunk at a strip club, getting a new tatoo--of something totally outrageous that i'll hate in the morning--piercing my eyebrow, bowling naked, shouting from the top of my lungs, from the top of the luxor, and rapelling down it...

i feel like dying my hair blue and wearing all black.
i feel like wearing a trench coat to byu campus and throwing it off, to streak through their shocked masses.
i feel like hiking in warm sunshine.
i feel like running all the way to the atlantic, forest gump style.
i feel like i feel like cooking 17 lobsters and eating them one by one, tearing through their shells like an animal.
i feel like cooking a double batch of brownies, dumping a half gallon of vanilla ice cream on them, pouring hot fudge sauce over that, topping it with whipped cream and eating the whole thing without stopping. off your naked body.
yeah, i really do.
i guess that got to the bottom of the restless feeling...
needing some real sugar.
fuck that.
me and my splenda will ride off into the sunset, so skinny you couldn't see me if i turned sideways.
EYE am the master of this body.

once upon a time.
there was a boy named Sue.
scrawny little kid with dishwater hair.
always looking over his shoulder for the bullies.
they were never far behind.
when he was 14 he took a shotgun and aimed it at his father's chest.
why'd you gimme a girl's name?
the old drunk looked back at him with a toothless grin, spitting his tobaco onto the floor.
cuz i knew you'd be a worthless little shit.
and those were the last words he ever spoke.
and Sue walked taller after that.
disappearing on the midnight train.
with only a backpack and the empty shells from that shotgun.

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