Friday, April 30, 2004

Fantasy Friday # whatever

I forgot about this, again.
seriously, i should assign one of you to remind me on wednesday....
cuz lord knows i can't be trusted to remember jack or shit on my own.

okay, here goes...
(I'm planning to tone it down a bit from the direction the last few have taken, but we'll see where the path leads.)

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

so there.
happy friday.

Thursday, April 29, 2004



what's up?

really? same here.

so i had a dream last night.
and i only feel safe revealing it because the blogger in question is out of town.
i checked some blogs before going to bed, and apparently this particular one fell into my dream maker.
Boz will laugh so hard he pees--more than his usual depends problem, even.
Belle will probably pretend to laugh but inside she'll be crying.
and if Kevynn reads this, well...he will probably finally file those papers for the restraining order he's been threatening.
(and frankly, they're long overdue--he's a bit of a procrastinator)
the dream wasn't really a big deal, i just have to make a big deal out of it because i'm bothering to mention it.
so, it's more interesting--you know.
cuz who the fuck wants to hear about someone else's dream???
the only time you give a flying fish ass about someone else's dream is if:
A. you are in it
B. you are naked
C. you want to bone the person having it
and none of those things occured in this dream.
in fact...
Just Kevynn with a little kid, out of the corner of my eye as i passed them on a half-full subway car.
a small part of a large scene, in a long and winding dream.
but as i hunkered down here to do some web crawling, i saw his link and remembered.
and thought, 'hey, i don't have anything real to write today...and he is on vacation....i'll write it.'
see? that wasn't so painful, now was it?

went to the gym with the husband tonight.
it was a good time.
you know...
spotting for him, and giving him gratuitous looks up my shirt.
making him change all the weights for me between sets.
losing my god damn water bottle.
hearing my phone ring and running to catch it.
it was becky.
filled with glee...
she received her first linkage, from the illustrious Ms. Belle....
(we agreed that i don't count)
yes, she actually has a life.
and this was still highly exciting to her.

oh, god.
i feel really nauseous all of a sudden.
just took my last bite of tuna.
think happy thoughts.
think downard rippling of inside muscles.
think happy thoughts!!
a burp.
much better.
i'm glad i shared that--
a little reminder that i'm actually a dirty old man--
and i don't just use that as a figure of speech.
i really am.
those pictures are my neighbor.
i take her picture with my telephoto lens...
she has no idea.
damn, but i'd like to hit that.

no, no.
i'm not high on anything.
why do you ask?
I don't know what vagabond soul has invaded me today and is hiccoughing words out of my fingertips.
i don't ask.
i just close my eyes and go with it.
and you should do the same.

watch the fuck out, people!

i am all limbered up and ready to knock your socks off.
(cue fighting kids...)
well, there goes that little burst of creative energy.
in the time it took me to log in, and write those first two hope-filled lines...
suck is my life.
nice fucking typo--that should have read, "such is my life", but frankly...

i really felt ready to write something rock n' roll, though.
something quivery.
something giggly?
something shiny and bright.
something pretty, something soft core.

the UPS man swung by today with a package...
he was hot.
inside the package were 100 burnable DVD's.
all fresh and shiny and waiting for me....
ready and willing.
full of possibilities, in their complete blankness.
and i smiled at the memory of their dirt-cheap-ness.
37 cents each, mother fuckers.
...just to back up my own personal DVD library of course.
but I don't have to coach you--we've been over this.

so that is exciting for me.
i'm waiting for a CD to arrive, too.
a special one.
a friend's demo...
i could just close my eyes and got lost, so i better not blink.

I will astound, I will perform.
I will abate, I will perplex.
I will end, I will begin.
I will cough, I will sneeze.
I will never say never.
I will always say never.
I will run and not be weary, I will walk and not faint.
(I will not freak out over the hole in my subconcious which let that through.)
I will get my freak on.
I will tweak this, and shuffle that.
I will never let you go.
I will hunt you down.
I will hide from you
I will shelter you.
I will take your breath away.
I will fuck you like an animal.
I will never be the same.
I will never change.
I will open my mouth and pour my soul out into the wind.
I will not piss into the wind.
I will probably forget, and piss into the wind.
I will cry for you, Argentina.
I will leap over a rainbow and fly away on corduroy wings.
I will discover the secrets of Brigadoon, Victoria and you.
I will.
I will.
I will.

I will clean the bathroom.
I will put on my pj's.
I will snuggle into my large and luscioius bed.
I will watch last night's 24.
I will snort the coke of American Idol.
I will wait.
I will wait.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

I meant to post something cheerful earlier

but i got side tracked.
when i got out of the shower, i felt the need to do a quick photo shoot.
came up with a lot of pictures i like, so i posted a few over on buzznet.

speaking of buzznet.
my freaking husband seems to be giving this url to more and more people...
"handing it out like a business card", so i hear...
damn him to hell!
i like my privacy.
er...well...from people i have met in person at least!
oh well.
Hi Jeff!

we have a fantastic little windstorm going on.
pretty cool.

something cheerful....
i guess that's what i promised.
today is Wednesday, and friday will be episode two of my weekly girls' night.
but this time we're doing dinner and a movie.
so i'm excited for that...
see, my husband and his best friend have their little season golf pass.
so they go every saturday and sunday morning--and wednesday night is range night.
aw, shit. that's today.
oh well, the weather might suck....i can hope!
so his friend's wife--one of my closest friends--put her foot down.
she said if you can do it, we can do it.
so there.
we get a weekly date, too.

and now i really just might shoot myself in the eye.
this is what i'm talking about, by the way.
the fact that my life is boring but i usually don't bore YOU with it...
apparently i forgot how to not be dull and drivelly.
go look at my nipples, i'll be back later.
unless i find my b.b. gun.

My name is mud...

well, okay, not really.
but a little Primus now and then never hurt anyone.
except that kid who tripped on his Tales From the Punchbowl CD and broke his elbow.
but, i only meant it in a general sense anyway.
you always take me so seriously.
and dammit, now i have to listen to that song.
which means i'll have to stop my little playlist, find another one and put it on that song.
i know.
it makes me tired just thinking about it.
oops, picked the wrong playlist, and when No Leaf Clover starts playing, you don't just stop it.
that wouldn't be right.
oh well.

so i ran into my hair dresser tonight...
as soon as she walked in, i cringed and offered brightly, "I cheated on you!!"
her dry reply came, "I can see that."
then we discussed my options...
not as easy to fix as i had hoped.
now i'm kind of pissed at the little hooker who did it without even warning my (apparently) color-blind ass that there was god damn purple in the dye.
looked black to me.
my girl will fix me up.

i finally have my camera (AND the cables with which to download) back in my possession.
yes, he bought the damn thing.
yes, it's technically "ours".
but, you know...fuck that.
it's mine.
and i was beginning to twitch.
so now, all is well.

no it's not.
i know this is usually a place for silliness and salaciousness.
but, let's not forget, it's my journal and you all know i don't leave anything out.
i am heavy of heart today.
please feel free to skip it, i just have to say it--to pour it out onto the keyboard so it has its place...

***Gut-wrenching Rant to follow Be Advised***

do you know what's shitty about loving other people--friends?
that when they hurt you hurt.
and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
you want to get on a plane, and fold her into you and pat down her hair and tell her it'll be okay.
but it won't.
32 year old mothers of two don't get to start over as easily as they should.
not in small new england towns.
not when she's a strict mormon who would only consider marrying the same.
not when she has the self esteem of a gnat...
my throat is closing again just thinking of her voice on the phone.
and my stupid fucking opening comment in response to her question,
"have you talked to A. [her little sister/my best friend]?"
I gasped, with a smile in my voice, "NO WAY!!!"
we both knew i expected news of expectancy.
(god, just typing that i feel the tears pushing at me)
"no, i wish it was good news..."
my heart started to break before she even hit me with it--thoughts first flying to their youngest brother who joined the fucking Marines last year.
and i skipped the momentary relief and went straight to gut wrenching ache for her when the reason for her call was spoken.
"J. and I are getting divorced."
I sit here in the dark, crying.
writing this and not knowing what to do for her.
there's nothing i can do.
she has a wonderful family, close by.
but what the fuck does that matter when you promised to spend the rest of your life with someone who promised to love you for all of yours and then changed his fucking mind?
fuck that.
fuck deserting your kids.
fuck leaving a beautiful woman--inside and out--alone in the cold gray world of rejection.
god damn it.
and fuck cell phones that lose signal less than a minute after carrying this news between two women in two states.
so i don't even know what's going to happen or how it happened or why.......
i don't imagine she knows those answers anyway.
i've known her my whole life, like family.
why isn't there anything i can do?
just to take her heart out of her chest and hold the pain for a few minutes so she doesn't have to?
i can listen.
that's all i can do, is listen.
whenever she wants, for however long she wants.
and i can keep my tears silent on the other end of the phone.
shattered dreams?
shattered reality, more like.
shattered existence, shattered soul, heaving sobs always stuck in the throat.
pain that will heal--
as fast as a snail might make it around the equator.

and suddenly my stupid fucking hair doesn't matter.
i want to throw up.

shake it off, Lisa.

I can't.

I guess i'll go to bed, and cry a new flavor of tears.
...tears of selfish happiness that i have what i do.

peace to all your hearts---

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

another beautiful day in pair o' dice...

spring is in the air--
which translates loosely to: birds are shitting everywhere.
nah, the weather is incredible.

aw, fruck.
i just realized i might not have my car today.
husband took his to get new tires yesterday--but they screwed up the alignment AND messed up his power window.
so now they're fixing that stuff.
and I better get my ass in gear so i can take my husband to work and still have my car.
cuz there's no way in hell i'm skipping the gym today.
even with this arriving-like-a-thief-in-the-night sore throat I have.
I worked out with a friend yesterday, and as fun as that is...
i don't usually work as hard.
so today i will beat the shit out of myself.

wow--so far I'm two for two on mentioning "shit" in each paragraph....
well, i guess this makes three...
and somehow that makes me a little sad inside.
or childishly pleased....

but at the very least--
i don't have a damn thing to write today.
my head's as empty as my stomach.
maybe this is what happens when i get enough sleep?
dries up my schizophrenic, eratic little muse.
(what? i'm sure you've noticed i don't have a run of the mill muse--no flowers in the hair and white gauzy dress child of the earth for me--i have the wild-eyed, chain-smoking braless one!)
so anyway.
I guess she slept in today.

I'm sick of merely wanting to put in some effort on fictional writing.
I'm annoyed with myself for never actually making it a priority anymore.

I wrote something last night that doesn't make much sense, but i'll post it anyway.
just for shits and giggles.
(well look at that--there's the "shit" word again. let's make it official: today is shit day)

"some random thoughts, don't know where i'm going...
but i have this feeling.
and i think it's going to be a long slow journey.

I feel something. something like joy, something like hope. I don't know what it is or why it chose me for its home. I do know that I feel it when i shouldn't, or when i don't expect to. I think of smiling and this is where a smile comes from. my heart is light, as they say, and yet not. it's so solid, so full. my throat--that's where i feel light. is it love? am i describing love? maybe. has it been so long away that i didn't recognize it? but it's been here, softly pulsing for almost a year now, pushing me forward, upward--like a surge of water, a shift of weight...."

and that was all i wrote.
i guess it makes sense after all.
shows what i know.
(in case you're keeping score at home: we're up to "not much")

well, looks like i missed the boat, er car...
he said he would run to the tire place and check on it then come back.
so i guess i'll have to settle for playing outside with the kidlets.
maybe go borrow my friend's jogger strolller and take them for a run?

well, have yourselves a great day, and leave a pack of smokes for my muse, wouldja?

Monday, April 26, 2004

how do i love thee? let me count the ways...

well, i don't know if counting is necessary.
i mean, shit.
i'm not even talking about real love.
just that "you make me feel like a natural woman (in the i don't shave my pits way)" kind of love.
and yeah, that's not the kind of love you really want to detail the finer points of.
no sirreee.
and i really did just end that sentence with a preposition.
i'm not fixing it either.

So I mowed my lawn yesterday.
This may not sound exciting to any of you, but...
I had never so much as touched a lawn mower before that!!
not once.
well, i might have pushed it from one side of the garage to the other, if hubby left it in my car's spot or something.
but that's it.
the lawn looks like shit, but at least the grass got cut.
i'm not so great with the straight lines.
and at least i looked cute in my little shorts and tank top.
jamming out to my mp3 player.
might have to volunteer for this chore a few more times--before it gets hot, at least.
wouldn't want to do that shit in july.

has anyone else ever noticed that a watched pot never boils?
i mean, okay, technically it still does--unless by watching it you're also repeatedly blowing out the flame responsible for heating it, but see that's just my extra IQ points kicking in, making things more complicated.
(and yes, i mention the iq thing because i'm terribly insecure and can't think of anything else to make me feel good about myself and hope that it will also make you feel like utter shit. um, actually no. but i figured i'd say it first, so if you're thinking it then you'll get all excited cuz we were thinking the same thing. but we really weren't, so screw you.)
wow, i think i may be the reigning queen of tangents.
which is far less prestigious than the queen of latifah, but you get more parking tickets.
so anyway.
a watched pot really doesn't ever boil.
it's annoying.
also, i've noticed that sometimes an ignored pot doesn't boil either.
sometimes pots just don't boil no matter what.
could be the fact that you forgot to put water in....
what's that smell?

and that was a fine example of what you get when Lisa does the following:
1. eats absolutely no carbs all day.
2. eats a bunch of fake sugar
3. gets down and dirty
4. writes on her blog

scary mother fucking chain of events, i know.
i'm wired.
no, that didn't say "weird", although i find it weird that those words are so similar.
and i'm kind of hungry now.
and i don't know why i can't just lay down and go to sleep like most normal fuckers.

oh, and here's the story of the day:
i was in the shower (nope, you can relax, it's not that kind of a story)....
and i was carefully washing my face.
i put a finger on my nosering.
washed around it, then lifted my stupid finger--and brushed the little star out of my nose.
before i even realized what had happened it was halfway to wherever the fuck the water from my shower ends up.
and i wanted to cry.
i loved that little star.
now i have a crescent moon in, and frankly, it's disappointing.
although, when we were outside playing, at around 7, the sky was still blue, but the moon had made an early appearance.
just a smudge of white...
also a crescent.
and my boys pointed up, "look mommy, the moon! and it's just like the one on your nose!"
then we decided to walk over to the little playground across the block and they asked if the moon could come with us.
freaking adorable.
almost as cute as when they were first talking, and one of them pointed to the moon and said, "have it?"
aw, of course you can, baby!

so there.
i guess i'll keep the damn thing in.
at least until i lose it.

damn a have a kink in my neck.
i'm not telling why, in the interest of filtering out some of the smuttiness of this page.
but is it really considered smut when it's within a marriage?
yeah, i thought so too.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

i don't know...

Today i am feeling like i'm finished with this.
Don't really care if i ever write another word here.
Or maybe I'm just sick of the direction I've taken--
direction was never my strong suit.
I just wander along in a haze, or ride along--a willing passenger--to whatever destination is in my path.
sometimes i arrive, rub my eyes and am startled to discover my location, with no idea of how i got there.
I love this free style of life but sometimes that means i have to back track...
i have to buy a map or call a cab, tow truck or travel agent.

i don't know what i'm talking about.
writing on an empty stomach again.
fucking Atkins.
a bowl of cereal.
that's all i want.

fell asleep around 9:30 last night....
that was awesome.

one of my favorite things just happened:
share my freshly iced glass of water wtih the boys.
they give it back almost empty.
and me with a half a protein bar to go.
...oops, I guess that should be filed under pet peeves.
and for the record: low carb protein bars are so much more tasty and satisfying than any damn cereal.
i don't know why i didn't have one earlier.
sometimes i forget.

i have nothing left to give.
i have let myself get pulled in too many directions.
would you like a little cheese?
no, really.
i have some which would go nicely with this bottle of fucking WHINE i just uncorked.

slap me.
no, seriously.
just haul back and slap.
i need it.
something to jar me, really shake me.
i do not like to whine.
so i apologize for that, even though my computer's delete and backspace keys both function properly.
cuz this little page is about naked truth.
might be a better name for it, actually.
I share what's in my head whether it be pretty, ugly, naughty or nice.
and i share it uncensored (99% of the time).
so that, my friends, is Naked Truth.

my life is jello, mud, uh--KY?
i was going for stuff that doesn't feel quite right, but then i noticed a trend...stuff to wrestle naked in.
there goes my attempt to steer this fucking train wreck away from constant sexual innuendo.
but it would be a fun Pyramid question..."Donny, i'll take 'stuff to wrestle in' please."

I was just talking to someone and remembered this:
certain songs just make me want to unzip the skin of my present self...
letting free the girl who exists in the memory of them....
i got the words for it that time, at least.
sometimes i can't place them, sometimes i only feel it, and i can't open my eyes, i won't move--
for fear of losing the perpetually ephemeral.

i love fragment sentences.
and yes, thank you for reminding me--i think maybe I will marry them.

and now my water tastes like cologne.
twin B was experiimenting with dad's stuff again, i see.
blech that tastes bad when it's not on man skin.
ah, hell, it tastes bad when it IS on man skin.

I was a good girl this morning:
did my housework before plopping so stubbornly down....

hopefully i'll be able to fit in an afternoon hair coloring session today.
no more purple!!!
wish me luck....
i'm not picky, not really.
i just want something that, oh i don't know--MIGHT OCCUR IN NATURE???

sunday bloody sunday.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

it's a sunshine day

even if i did only get 3 hours of sleep.

took the briefest of naps, interupted by a kindly door to door salesASS.
then took a slightly longer "nap"--wink wink.
while the kids were nappping.
then took the kids for a hike--pictures soon to come.
it was such a perfect day for that, we had a great time.
they're such little adventurers!
we were on a fairly level, wide trail, but every time there was a new trail diving up the side of the mountain, all craggy and rocky and steep--they asked to check it out.
we never got too far up those trails, but it thrilled me that they were interested.
it's going to be fun as they get big enough to really do some of that stuff!!

I had to delete a couple of nasty comments today--that's the first time i've ever used that feature, by the way.
and for those of you out there "in the know"--no it wasn't who you think.
it was actually someone from the bar last night...
apparently someone who was given my URL last week (remember i said my friend passed them out)
it was pretty strange.
i'm still not sure what he was talking about in one regard, and would gladly clarify anything, if he would have the courtesty to email me., Mr. Right--use it.

so who else loves a little mystery??
fun stuff, that.
sorry to be such a dork.

i wish i had something interesting to report.
not a damn thing.

can't even muster enough properly firing synapses to tell a story or describe a scene.
so i better go to sleep.
yes, it's 7:30 local time.
so what?
our kids are asleep, so we're going to go plop in a movie, and i'm sure we'll last all of about 3 minutes.

life is grand.

hope you're all well and happy.

What the hell's the matter with me???

I just got home from a wild and wonderful night out with the girls.
and where do i go first?
not the bathroom, although, i do have some beer that could use a new home....
not my bed, although i do have some sleep to sneak up on and hit over the head and drag back to my cave....
and not the kitchen, although i could use a vitamin and some more water to restore my body's balance.

hell no.
I plop my reeking-of-smoke ass right down in front of this crack habit of mine.
(and was that a joke, cuz i might be a little buzzed?? i said ass and crack...)
we had some fun, i tell you what.
but you know--what happens in Payson stays in Payson.
or some shit.
no, i guess that's vegas.
well then i guess i'll tell you:
we drank beers, played pool, threw darts (they rarely hit the target, though) and let some cute little just-turned-21 boys flirt with us.
they were like eager little puppy dogs--and just as cute.
but in that puppy dog way.
funny kids.
we let them hang around because they were just cute little boys.
the older dudes?
cold shoulder avenue for you!
and then there was the woman--
you know the one.
the woman who told us all of her deepest and darkest woes in the first 5 minutes of meeting her.
sharing a pool table can be hazardous to your health.
they should post signs like that.
although she did point to me and say, "you were a psych. major."...
she got that right, but then she said my friend was "just out of high school"....
turned 29 last month, but you were really close lady.
this was followed by her proclamation that she has an alcohol problem,
and she was dry for 10 months, but now that she's going to jail she figured what the fuck? i'll drink.
and followed that with the story of a horrible car crash and the death of her sister--
which i believe were two separate incidents, but who really knows...
good times.

and the other girl who came with us called her mom to join us.
her mom.
which kicks ass--and who kicks ass, incidentally.
want to know the coolest part about that?
she was married to my hot neighbor until about a year ago.
he's way younger than her, just to clarify.
40's i think.
anyway, the girls thought it would be funny if we told her about my little crush.
it wasn't.
i mean, she was cool, but i do not think she was amused.
oh well.
not my fault...
and another girlfriend joined us for an hour or so, but had to head home early because she had spent the day in Moab.
I almost made out with her just for saying that.

we had a good time, nothing crazy, just girls laughing and drinking.
no flashing, no intrasexual make-out sessions.
but still fantastic fun.
we did, however, make out with every guy in the bar.
even the toothless dude who was incoherant except for the phrase: nah, man, i'm not drunk, it's acid.
oh yeah, and the old dude with the shirt on that said, "You have nice legs--what time do they open?"*
it brought back such fond memories of my night on the town with another girlfriend in another town (home) where some really hot (staggering, slobbering old) men used that line on my friend and i.
aaah, good times.
that guy also told me that i'm "prettier than a bug's ear."
well, that's a relief.
my response (although directed at someone else) was this:"awesome, cuz bug's ears are freaking hot!"
almost wanted to go home with that one.
a keeper, surely.

I'm secretly hoping to not get enough sleep ever again in my life.
and i'm on a roll...

oh yeah, earlier in the evening, my mother in law took all of her daughters in law out to dinner.
it was sort of a farewell to one who is moving away for the summer, and an early celebration of mothers day.
cuz she values us as the mothers of her grandchildren.
it's cute.
her youngest works at the restaurant we went to, so that was added cuteness factor--
and his girlfriend or ex, i'm not sure which week we're on...
and it was BYU graduation today so the place was packed.
good thing we made a reservation.
yay us.
good food, good times.

well, i believe i've milked this teet dry.
over and out, good buddy.

*not to be outdone by last week's t-shirt: "It ain't gonna lick itself"....good god, i don't imagine it is....

update: 8am--and then, when i got in my bed my husband woke up and we talked and laughed until 5am.
fuck this.
i definitely need to stick to my 3am bedtime.

Friday, April 23, 2004

pretty sure i'm allergic to sleep

(pst--fantasy friday at the bottom. if not properly aroused, check buzznet)

which is odd, because i used to be addicted.
i am awake until 3am way too often lately.
but i have found that I love not getting quite enough sleep.
it's bizarre.
i feel so much more alive and alert when i'm fucking tired.
so, whatever.

So i just went to my 3 day old GMail account, ready to send my first message.
sat there for a minute staring at the empty "compose" page, and logged out.
there were two main problems....
1. I don't freaking know anyone's email address
B. I almost never initiate a brand new email!!!!!!
(please read that like Rod Roddy on "the Price is Wrong, Bitch")
I have a hard enough time keeping up with replying to the large number of emails i receive as it is
--why start some more shit i can't finish, right?
i mean, all those hard working spammers deserve more than just a perfunctory, "no thank you"--
i feel it's important to answer them individually.
Also, some old co-workers who see fit to still send me page after eye-bleeding page of "jokes".
and those can't go un-scorned.
okay, i'm kidding, i delete all of the above without looking, just like you do.
i was trying to paint a picture of myself as some quirky little social outcast.
it's not very believable, though is it?
anyway, it's boredhousewife at and feel free to use it.
lord knows i'm not.

however, my body aches all over from the killer workouts this week, and my nose hurts from all the fucking-with.
so who can really hold me to what i say?

sometimes on a Friday, i just feel like talking smack.
sometimes on a tuesday or a sunday or a full moon or when the windows are open--i feel like writing smut.
which is why schedules and routines make me feel comfortable and safe when i'm in the right mood and like Gulliver in Lilliput when i'm in the wrong mood.
suffocated, bound and gagged.
what a great segue into the fantasy post...

just kidding.

okay, okay.
reaching deep inside my bag o'tricks....
blocking out the sounds of my life,
walking down that concrete spiral staircase into one of the upper levels of my imagination.
just skimming off the top here, in other words, and no, not like the cream from milk.
unless you're on a low fat diet, in which case the cream is considered to be the lesser part of the milk...
god damn it, i'm just trying to say i don't consider these little sketches to be the highest quality of writing i could produce okay?
fuck, man.
that was sheer torture.
and back to the happy place....
oh yeah, it is also important to note:
i feel i've been getting too graphic (hold the protests, please, i know most of you enjoy it)
but i get to do whatever the hell i want to, so deal with it.

standing in the rain, i fumble for my car keys.
peering in through the window, i see them, sitting on the seat.
it is a warm, unexpected summer rain.
so it is not unpleasant, but i am unprepared, and my t-shirt is soon soaked.
as i kick my tire in frustration, and try to decide who to call, a man approaches.
i am annoyed already, at his swagger, the confidence with which he seems to think he could solve my problem.
a cowboy hat keeps his face dry, and i swallow hard when i see it.
oh. it's you---
he smiles, tipping his hat in an exaggerated manner, trying not to smile.
i am suddenly aware of my newly-transparent shirt, and cross my arms, with a blush.
keys? you smile.
I nod, jutting my chin out slightly--defiance.
this is not the first time this man has saved my sorry ass.

dammit this is crap.
besides, i just got an email from "Boner I. Womanliest" and who can think straight with something like THAT in their head????
i totally understand why there are whole blogs devoted to these spam names.
beautiful stuff.

okay, once again, i put in some tunes.
what i do is pick a playlist, put it on random and take a deep breath.
then i start typing.
just so you know.


swirling skirts, bare feet
tinkling anklets, hemp necklaces

nope. not feeling it
love this song though.
(have you noticed i'm making you work for it today? sorry...)

(Tuesday's Gone, Skynard)
(yes this is my stoner playlist--got a problem with that??)

fuck. fuck. fuck.
it's not working.
i'm not feeling it today.

got it!

(all along the watchtower, hendrix)

driving along a dark street, a low, old buick, shiny
fake furs, dyed bright colors

nope, lost it.
who else is starting to feel like this is a prom night with an indecisive virgin????
are you going to put out or not, bitch???

okay, you've driven me to cheating.
something i wrote in a different setting, at a different time.

fantasy friday #whatever

I'm sorry I wasn't sitting in the lobby, in nothing but a trenchcoat.
a pair of sunglasses...watching the door, pretending to read a newspaper.
at the sight of you i would have stood, heart pounding
we would have both stopped for a moment, not quite knowing--yet knowing so firmly.
you would be caught for a moment between surprise and the complete lack of it.
i would take a step forward, the glasses slid into a pocket, bare knee showing through the slit as i took long steps to reach you, in my knee high black boots
You would embrace me then, with the strength of an army, able to crush me, but holding back.
Your smell, god, my face in your neck, i can smell you...
and i taste the skin, so softly, hesitantly.
and at this touch you shiver, knowing i've nearly broken your dam of self control, and you steer me to the elevator.
there are others in it, so we stand awkwardly, side by side, not touching--barely breathing.
on your floor we nearly trip over each other getting down the hall....
your room key, fumbling...i'm shaking, just a little, my heart beating too too fast.
once inside, there is chaos--both of us so frenzied at this point, that we hardly know where to start....

****use your own imagination to fill in the rest, mine's on vacation, apparently....

What a wonderful world...

but what a crazy day.
fun. good. busy.
got some new nose rings, and i'm wearing one of them right now.
yeah, right now.
i bought a couple of little hoops, but they were both too big and not quite right for the nose thing....
need to put a little more time into finding some nose candy. i mean nose jewelry.
although we did spend a signifcant amount of time digging around up there....
parked in the high school parking lot; i bled a little.
(why does that sound like the sad tale of someone's "first time"?)
well, it was my first time--taking out the original nose ring.
we wrestled around with that thing for a while, looking mighty sophisticated (or would it be sophomoric? haha)
and finally just ended up making out.
no, but we did meet my husband and her boy toy for dinner--
successfully ditching our kids for the entire afternoon/evening.
yee haw.
(just got a craving for fried dough with cinamon and sugar, from a country fair....what the fuck??)
(followed by another for....some girlie drink--sex on the beach, i think, but it's been a long time since i've ordered a drink like that.)
that was weird.
okay, back to reality, eh?
or my sweet little realm of it anyway.
i love my dream land.
it's all mine.
but i love my waking land even more...
i am sitting in my bed, in the dark, typing this.
i look over at my sweet yet kick ass husband and smile.
his breathing tells me he's asleep, but his foot just stroked my calf.
i have hinted at telling the story of "Rock Bottom" before, and i will do it soon.
it's a story i am happy to tell now--because we got carabeners, ropes, harnesses, chalk....
and made our way to the summit again.
and the view is breathtaking.
I am superstitiously waiting for something bad to happen--surely i couldn't be this lucky, this blessed?
i am notorious for getting punched in the face by the lesser gods, whenever i am so bold as to be aware of my good fortune.
so fine, take your shots you weasly old bastards.
i will soak up every drop of joy in the here and now.
and if you kick me in the teeth, then i'll go to the dentist.
fucking lesser gods.

anyway, i suppose you're all wondering where the fantasy friday is?
i like this post.
so fuck you.

and it's almost 3 in the morning.
do not dismay.
i will procure something for your amusement a little later....
(even if saying that, i feel the pressure to perform)
that seems to be the name of my tune this week.
oh, and for anyone who's wondering why i post such filth:
A. i like it
B. i like it
C. you like it
D. your mom likes it
E. ....i like it.

and it has nothing to do with the quality of my own, personal sex life.
that, my friends, is personal, but i'll tell you this: on a satisfaction scale of 1 to 10?
you guessed it.
an eleven.
but only cuz i don't know how high i'm allowed to go over on that thing.
i mean, it says 1 to 10--so shouldn't i choose one of the numbers in that range?
one would think.
so maybe there's a better way to say it.
but you get the picture.
someone somewhere suggested something, which prompted me to respond with this.
the truth is, my imagination is always restless, always roaming and i love putting to words those moments of intensity.
my body, however, is well cared for--and my heart.
so please, don't worry about me.

i am beyond tired.
so i will sleep.
and before noon i will have posted something sultry, something daring or crass.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

Joint post day

...and no, not that kind of joint.

Ms. Becky, of A Confused State of Being fame is playing hooker hookey today.
...or most of this week, but whatever.
so we hit the gym again (yes it hurt, but we're okay) and now we're attempting this cluster fuck.
well, i imagine, at least.
since i usually think too fast to type anyway and she's on speed compared to me.
it should get crazy, so hold onto you want.
except that.
yer sick.
dude--yer at work.

now it's becky's turn

i choose 360 for my turn.
or maybe 180 i haven't really decided
hey though i figure since i am not at work it's goina be ok that I hold anything i want right?
because frankly I have an ithchin....and not the kind that you think...the other kind.

so then we are planning the great return to the bar in payson.
It might be interesting...lots of boys and maybe Hunter Dude...
or spikey the great or any number of other colorful characters
Yeah that would be nice!! I could always use a backup plan. Then again....

Lisa's ready
ummmmm to write, you pre-vert.

So today at the gym i almost killed myself with a barbell on several occassions---
they call em skull crushers for a reason, okay?
and, sadly, the reason for my almost accidents was severe, debilitating laughter.
i'm such a girl--giggling at the gym.
but i guess that's better than being a boy.
like, ew.
boys have cooties.
oh wait....
i fucking love cooties!!!!!!!
we had a grand time.
we got to check out all the hotties together, and frankly....
got a few looks ourselves.
oh come on, why else would a lazy ass like ME go to the gym??
so yeah.
that's it for me.

just a few things that I need to clear up...

lisa also loves fucking cooties.

we do love checking boys,
it's just too fucking bad that there were only two there today
but what can you do?

And the reason lisa goes to the gym is so that she can post
some all too revealing pictures so that all of you can enjoy the
boners that are tapping the tops of your desks.

We are grateful are we not?!?!?!?

Stick a fork in us we are done and or finished for you uptight grammar freaks
you know who you are!!!

and now we're off to see the wizard.
no, that's not right....
oh yeah, she's running down the street to pick up my babysitter, and we're going to go shopping.
she needs a new belly button ring, and i need some new choices for nose rings.
(if i can get the courage to pull this bloody thing out!!)
so wish us luck.

i should be in the shower right now

but that can wait.
just a quick note today...

the sky is not falling, but it sort of looks like it, out my window.
the clouds are so heavy and low.
i would take pictures but my husband took the camera today.
said he wanted to get some good nudes of himself.
yes, he was making fun of me.
fine, fine.

okay, i bowed to pressure (or the stench emanating...) and now i'm back, fully showered.
not fully dressed, it'll please you to know.
i would be.
but the kids turned off the dryer, which was drying the clothes i want to wear.
well, yes, i do have other clothes, even a robe or three.
but here i sit.

okay, i got side tracked, and now i've run way out of time.
meeting friends at the gym again, got to hurry.

I will write more later.
sorry for the let down, my loves.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

i'm going to keep on te-ryin' just to get up this hill

this is the most thought and effort i've put into a post in a loooong time.
as in, i've posted twice already in the last twelve hours, and i'm not satisfied.
i keep writing so that no one will have to read the last crappy post.
go back to the weekend posts, if you're needing something decent.
those were good.
(not to sound like i have an ego or anything heinously evil like that...)

so, just because i so obviously have nothing of interest to write.
and because i'm feeling like a literary gimp for those half assed drivellingly inspid posts...
here's some of the goooood stuff.

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


well that was a healthy dose of crap

...i wouldn't recommend reading my last post, before this.
your life will be better for it if you just skip it, trust me.
i am fully aware that that is what i get when trying to write on an empty stomach.
although, now that i think of it--i can't really guarantee this one will be any better.
oh well, read on at your own risk.

the mountains got snow, so hopefully we'll try to go skiing/snowboarding this weekend...
does anyone know how freaking close i live to the mountains?
the base is only about 2 miles away, i think.
anyway, they're damn close.
it's not like, oh we should go away to the mountains, let's get in the car and drive...
it's like, oops, i took a wrong turn, now how do i get back down this mountain.
pretty cool, i guess.
not even a near replacement for the ocean.
not even close.
similar feeling, but i don't know....
i'm not in the mood to get all poetic on your asses, so i won't.

i would love to be lying on a beach perpetrating a tan, though.
and if you can name that tune, then we can smile together over the music of that era.
but i really would love to be lying on a blanket on the hot sand.
with a book.
or just my mp3 player.
definitely no kids...
in fact, maybe i could arrange for all children to be banned from the beach that day...
okay, fine, they can stay.
but only if they're quiet.

dammit, now that i've put myself on that beach--
my beach, the only beach i ever think about anymore--
i want to get up and walk over to the tide pool,
and look under rocks for baby crabs to hold in my hand for a moment, feeling the tickle of their feet.
i want to walk to the other side of the sand, where the rocks start again, and see if i still fit in that little cave.
probably not.

okay, back to the bitchiness of a day in the life of me.

i got a lot of nice emails yesterday, but one of them had the greatest subject line ever.
and i'm not talking about the spam ones that we all hold so dear...
although those are pretty hilarious sometimes.
I will not quote the source because she's a bit of a recluse, but it was too great not to share.
"Someone should name a candybar after you, seriously"
now, maybe she wasn't serious, and okay, i think i'll go with probably not serious on this...
but i don't care, cuz it still rocked me upside down.
wouldn't that be great?
it would be chocolate and caramel and jeez...i don't know, cuz pretty much every candybar has already been made.
but i can guarantee it would taste gooooood.
ooh, it would have brownie in it!
a chocolate and garamel covered brownie....

okay, anyway.
i promised crap, and i delivered.
you can say that much for me at least.

most people would delete and start over if they had written such a lemon of a post.
not me.
and i won't even take this lemon and make it into lemonade.
do you know what my sunday school teacher told us when i was 15 or so?
"if life hands you lemons--stick 'em in your bra."
yeah, she was unconventional.
pretty damn funny, great lady, too.
i heard through some really unlikely grapevine that her husband is dying.
they're young.
barely 50.
i was really close to their whole family, their daughter was one of my bestest friends in high school.
they live in st. george now, just a few hours south of here.
makes me want to go find them, but for what?
to cry together?
to laugh together, is more likey, that's what they're best knownn for.
and to see them without the laughter would probably twist my sense of the world in an ugly way.
the lump in throat means that if i still could summon up a prayer i would.
and that all of me that would have prayed for them is leaning toward them, aching to stop their pain.
and the rest of me is hoping it was a case of "telephone" and he's really just having carpal tunnel surgery....
...but the gut part of me (and just to throw in the humor they love--)which is the biggest part of all, knows it's bad.

well there ya go.
i should have freaking stopped while i was only sucking.
now i'm depressing you all.
i will write more in a little while and wipe the slate.

well here's a newsflash...

something was brought rather stunningly to my attention tonight, on several occassions.
I am a complete fucking moron.
okay, okay, that's an over statement.
(didn't i use "understatment" in my last post? jeezus. proving my point already.)
but seriously, i'm beginning to wonder where in the bloody hell all my IQ points have wandered off to.
i guess it's true what they say: if you don't use it you lose it.
and no, i'm not looking for a bunch of people to say, "oh, no you're smart...blah blah blah"
just save it, okay?
i don't want to hear it.
what i want is to have back my ability to multi-task, my ability to think clearly, razor sharp memory.
aw, who am i kidding?
i probably never even had those things.
i have such a bad memory i probably made it all up.

i'm frickin starving.
this is good, but annoying.
good because it means my metabolism is up...
but annoying for the obvious reasons: i am too lazy to keep feeding myself.
who's going to feed me??
come on, one of you must have a slab of beef you could toss my way.
or a salmon steak.
wait a sec.
all this bitching.
and what do I hear?
my husband is in the 11pm local time....
before i get too excited, i better go inform him that i'm hungry.
he's so freaking cute, but he didn't have much of a role model for how to treat a woman...
so sometimes he's not as chivalrous as i'd like...
oh, no. none of that open my god damn car door shit.
that pisses me off.
you expect me to sit here and wait for you to walk around and open a door i could open, step through and close in that time???
fuck that.
save me the best slice of pie, sure.
cook me some breakfast in bed, fine.
that's chivalry.
...and did anyone else notice both examples included food?
yeah...i'm hungry.

he's making sandwiches.
with bread.
what a prick.

i posted pictures of my purple hair on fucking buzznet.
mostly just to move my nudes out of the line of fire.
just sick of looking at my spread legs every time i open the page.
go figure.

hubby's on the phone, and i could swear he just said, "i'm going to see about getting a perm."
let's just pretend that didn't happen.
well, actually, it didn't happen.
i just heard wrong.
yeah...we'll go with that.

and if anyone wants to dye my hair non-purple, that would be great.

i have nothing futher at this time.
and frankly, i'm not sure why i bothered with that load of crap.
please excuse me, i'll have something better posted soon.
good night.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

...well we all shine on

like the moon and the stars and the sun...
which probably means we should dig out that compact, dab on a little powder.
or something.

all that crap about the glory of rain?
i'm done.
this is day 3.
i am a spoiled desert-dweller now, who prefers her skies blue.
why yes i am, and thanks for asking.

so here's what i'm wondering:
how in the world am i going to get my hair to not be purple anymore?
it's purple.
fucking purple.
that was not exactly what i had in mind.
and i don't look very closesly at myself a lot of the time, for as much as i play the narcissist....
i didn't really notice it was purple until yesterday.
had it dyed on saturday.
and no, there wasn't even any alcohol consumption on which to blame my lack of observationalisitcal skills.
but i do love making up words.
oh well.
i guess i'll just stay out of direct sunlight, so my hair will just look black-ish.
god DAMN but i didn't want purple hair.
it's that stupid burgandy color.
and not only that, but it's like straw--dry and straight.
fuck fuck fuck.
so much for going with a new person to do my color.
i should have known not to trust her--chirpy little utah girl.

but at least my abs and obliques are so sore i can hardly stand it.
that makes me glow with joy.
i killed those fuckers yesterday.
aw, crap--i think i just used my entire day's supply of "fuck".
sorry...i just love that word so very much.
like, way more than i love you, or you--but less than i love you.
don't you love such vagueness?
and of course, the best part is that i'm not really talking about anyone.
yeah, i'm a dork.

so here's how you know you've been spending too much time glued to your computer:
(if you're me, at least)
1. your shoulders ache from the strange angle of the chair being a little too low--or high?
2. your ass is literally talking to you--and not in some gassy way, i'm talking real words here--begging for mercy
3. you have pulled your kids' wagon under the table for a foot rest and get really snippy if they try to play with it.
4. this isn't a very long list, but it sure is hellish

i want to kick myself in the neck for this.
see, we put computers in my kids' playroom, for them.
so of course, i unhooked my laptop from its docking station and 21 inch monitor....
and now get to choose between perching it on my lap on the couch in here--
or sitting at their craft table in this stupid fucking (oops) metal chair.
but since they're in here most of the time, it just makes sense.

i guess i'll just have to start blowing visiting a chiropractor.
or...i could bring one of those uber-comfy office chairs down.
you've probably heard me bitch about that before.
now, i admit to being somewhat lazy and a bit of a procrastinator (yes these are gross understatements)...
but the thing is, this chair weights like 400 pounds and is as awkward to hold as a baby porcupine.
and no, i'm not exaggerating.
like i would do that.

so today will probably be a busy day for me.
i have my nephew here, who we call "the triplet" because he's only a month older than my twins.
and his 7 year old brother ended up coming, too since he was puking all night and couldn't go to school.
my brother & his wife are in mexico lying on the beach for the whole week.
and good for them!
they have 6 kids so a vacation alone is a rare and beautiful thing.

have a seriously fanastic day.
or a fantastically serious day.
nah, go with the first one.

Monday, April 19, 2004

hey, joe, whadda ya know?

I know that the sky is sureal today.
in one direction there are fluffy, billowing white clouds, and blue sky, leaving dark shadows on the green lower part of the snow capped mountain.
in another direction there are thunder clouds, the rain visible from a distance, pouring down on that section of mountain.
in another direction the sky is dark, overcast--and there is a sandstorm below, the earth dancing, leaping to reach the sky.

i know the power of the winds and rain, i have been in hurricaines.
their fury sends a thrill through me, a moment of recognizing my own smallness, my own weakness.
but i refuse to be afraid.
there is no fear, only the present.
the ocean crashing angrily at the matchstick wharfs, which once looked so permanent.
it unleashes such vengeful wrath on small boats that they are smashed to pieces and carried away.
this ocean i love the way i love God--from a distance, admiringly, but rightfully afraid of the power.
this ocean which is usually in harmony with the sky and shore, now tries to destroy them both.
leaping, growling, stretching past its confinement, it seems to want to take in all of the earth around it--driven by hunger?by jealousy? by pure rage? we know not.
the wind bending trees, pushing them, mercilessly into the ground, top first--the loud cracking of 100 year old trees lost in the howling of the wind, the slamming of the rain.
rain in sheets, driving holes into the ground with the force of each droplet.

and now i'm horny.
...and why does that surprise me??
i would love to be on the wet grass, with all of that chaos around me, fucking...

okay, okay, enough of that.
time to cook dinner.
just thought i'd throw ya a bone (no pun intended)....

Sunday, April 18, 2004

I'm only happy when it rains


but it is raining.
and I am happy.
of course, i'm generally happy these days--unless i'm hungover or sleep deprived.
aw, fuck it, i'm happy then too, just grouchy.
or mind numbingly bitchy...

i love my new hair color.
it's more what i was going for last time.
i liked how it turned out last time, even though it was a lot more red than i had imagined.
this time it's really really dark.
hopefully i'll get a good picture to actually depict the color.
and hopefully the purple will wash off my scalp.
yeah, it's noon here.
no, i haven't showered.
i've become increasingly lazy about that lately, and i'm sticking with my original defense: my kids interupt me constantly, which sucks the pleasure out of it.
and no, i don't necessarily mean that kind of pleasure.
it's just not relaxing.
one of you oh so sarcastically suggested i may want to start locking the door.
fuck you.
...but you're right.
and i think i will.
it'll only suck the first time or two, while they bang on the door the whole time, crying...
makes me squirm just to think about it.
do i spoil my kids?
i plead the fifth.
...and i wouldn't mind having a fifth...

the story i wrote the other day.
i love this story, i don't know why.
and, as always, remember these are done off the cuff.
no second draft, no major editing.
all i do is read it over quickly to make sure there are no typos or major mistakes.
that's me--

(I was having trouble coming up with a fantasy friday)
i'll put on some tunes, maybe that'll help. far so good....
(for the record, it was Bush, Chemicals Between Us when i started writing and i have no idea why that song inspired this)

this song is taking me away...
to a room, lit mostly by candles, incense burning.
a mattress on the floor, tapestries on the wall.
a sooty, unused fireplace, low windows.
creaking wooden floor.
it's my turn, i breathe in--hold it, exhale.
cough, cough, cough--burning my lungs.
i look around slowly for my glass of water, slowly.
i see it, grasp it.
forget to drink it.
the music is loud, his eyes are close to me, his knee resting against my thigh.
i wonder if he is still with the girl he met when i moved away, leaving him forlornly behind.
he hasn't mentioned her.
the cd is skipping.
we both look at the stereo.
for a long time, lost in the rhythm of the repeating note.
he stretches his body across the floor and touches a button.
i cock my head and smile, the realization like warm soup, slowly making its way inward: skipping cd; fixed.
he stays where he is, sprawled across the cold floor.
i begin to think he is asleep.
i crawl toward him, on all fours, suddenly afraid he is dead.
he sits up, hits his head on the edge of a dresser, curses--all slowly, like walking in thick mud.
we laugh at his hand rubbing his sore head.
then i realize the laughter stopped, and i don't remember how long ago, or why it started.
just his eyes.
we've been sitting looking at each other for a long time.
i try to remember her name, so i can ask him.
he becomes defensive, turns away.
i stand to leave, unsteadily.
leaving again? he says.
i turn back to him, confused, but losing the haze.
--i'm here.
he pulls me down.
don't leave again....are you going to? don't...
without you nothing's right--everything's purple, green, orange--inside out, upside down....
i can't.
i can't.
you have to stay.

he is rambling, saying these words softly into my hair.
i feel them more than i hear them.
i thought them before he said them--before i even knew i would see him.
we both cry and don't smile yet, but find each other's lips.
my soul is home.


Saturday, April 17, 2004

good morning?

i do not fucking think so.
good god.
i've been up for since 7.
i have gotten shit for sleep for days and i'm starting to show signs of wear...
the kids' new bunkbeds were supposed to be delivered.
so the fucking furniture truck guy called to give us a delivery time window.
hubby's golfing.
so i had to go take apart two cribs, haul them out to the garage, and move the rest of the furniture out of there, vacume, and...oh yeah, wash all the crayon off that the boys had put on the walls.
yeah, i know.
i didn't have to leave all of that until this morning.
but i did.
and keep in mind this is with way too little sleep and way too much beer...
and don't forget that i'm a bitch when i wake up even on a good day.
and i feel like a truck ran over me.
in fact, one may have, i don't remember.
last night got a bit crazy.

enough of the morning after bitchfest.
let's talk about last night.
dinner with J. & A. at a fabulous little mexican joint.
i love good mexican food.
and beer.
and really hot salsa.
and beer.
...did i mention beer?
okay, so then we headed to our favorite little bar.
which was having karaoke...
dun dun DUN.

so when we got there, things were pretty quiet.
played some pool, chatted.
other people started trickling in.
then my friend Becky called, to get directions so she could meet us.
and she brought a friend.
so, she forced me to sign up for karaoke with her.
Betterman, Pearl Jam.
and you know what?
we actually didn't sound like shit.
we rocked that joint.
and there were cute boys, including one particularly cute one with a huge spikey mohawk.
who were, among others, all over Ms. Becky.
made me miss being single.
for about .0003 seconds.

i think i actually had interesting things to say about the night.
but they're gone.

the good news is, i'm going to get my hair foo foo-ed today.
color, possibly a trim.
i know.
it's a huge thrill.
are you glad i shared?
fuck off.
whenever you're reading along, and you start thinking "who cares???"
just reach inside your pants and do what comes naturally.
cuz seriously.
my life is boring as hell.
i just know how to weed out the really bad parts.
trust me.
you want boring?
oh i'll give you boring.
i got boring pouring out of my ass.
at least it rhymed...
and i'm not kidding:
you have no idea what monotonous crap i'm sparing you.
and hopefully it'll stay that way.
i'm making no promises.
oh except this one: i promise to continue being rambly and brambly and tangled and twisted.
oh yeah, and i promise to keep writing smut.

okay. time to go take the dreaded shower.
why the hell did my brain choose that adjective??
fucking weirdo.

yeah, i'm not loving the sign off line anymore.
gotta work out the kinks, i guess.
no i didn't say anything about Kinky.

so, have a great day and don't be a sucka!
(but be a suck-er or a suck-ee if you have the chance)

Friday, April 16, 2004

Fantasy Friday XXIII

I'm so not in the mood to write this.
i have a headache.
and i want to go to sleep.
i'll put on some tunes, maybe that'll help. far so good....

(i ended up writing a little non-erotic story so i took it out, even though i liked it. i'll post it next week. the rest of this post is intact as it came to me--why i feel this is necessary is beyond me. don't ask. just read.)

well, i never promised you a frickin porn rose garden.
that's just what fell off my fingers.
but i love it.
(for the record: pure fiction)
i think i'm getting the hang of this....
this writing thang.
but, since i look forward to the sexy stuff as much as you guys do, i'll give 'er another shot.
makes me wonder if i should institute another theme day where i just write a story.
did i just suggest structure???
sorry, that was the crack talking.
no, not my butt crack.
speaking of butt crack...
just kidding.
i will not drag the Jordan Catalano affair onto my personal site.
embarassing shit, that.

okay here's my best try at erotica for this hour of the night.

Happy Trails...
(sorry, can't resist a corny title)
As we headed up the trail, it seemed our large group was settling into smaller groups. There were 12 of us, but most of the women were in a cluster somewhere ahead, trying to outdo the men, apparently. The newlywed couple was lingering toward the rear, and I had fallen into a heated discussion with one of the other husbands--my own heading up the expedition with the rest of the men.
I was only arguing with this man because we were a good match of wit--and his smile made my knees weak. Our banter slowed our pace enough that the rest of the group was soon out of site, around several bends. The newlyweds wandered off the path early on and were not seen again all day....which made my mind wander even worse than it already was. As he outlined the reasons why our government is in such deep trouble, i began undressing him with my mind. He had a lot to say on the subject, so i took my time creating a scene in my head, enjoying every detail--getting myself a little too hot. He abruptly stopped talking, stopped walking--and asked if i was okay. I blushed and tried to stammer something relevant but i had tuned out so completely that i had nothing to say. there was something in my blush that offered him a clue, something in the silence that allowed him to feel the heat coming off me. and my blush turned into a smile that was unintentionally so seductive that his mouth opened, as if to speak, then closed. he cleared his throat and asked the wrong question: where are the newlyweds? unable to shake that look from my face, that--oh god, fuck me now look....i answered him, huskily, fucking, and it was his turn to blush. we stood there for a full minute, in the shade of so many trees, with their softly rustling branches the only sound. my stomach doing flips, my hands nearly shaking for wanting him. He finally unfolded his arms, which seemed then to have been the only barrier to my goal. i don't think he knew what he would do, he may have been ready to shake the fairy dust off his shoulders and resume hiking. but his move was like an invitation to me--to the animal instict inside me, at least--and i stepped forward. he let out a low sound, almost like a growl, and grabbed me. i pulled my shirt off before we'd even taken our first breath, and began tearing at his pants as our tongues met. we stumbled off the path, behind a large tree, some of our clothes being discarded there, others left on the path, forgotten. the rough bark against my back, his weight against me, our kisses remained frenzied, my leg wrapped around him like a desperate python...our hands exploring every inch as our panting and moaning began to take on volume. he pulled me to the ground with him in a sweaty tangle and there was nothing but the need for him, for pleasure to pour through me in waves. my hands searched; i found what i was looking for and shuddered as he slid inside. the end came soon, but it was so intense that i could not stop it from pouring back out my mouth in a ragged wail.

got a little wet myself there.
hope you all remembered to lock the office door before starting this...
happy friday, kiddos!
don't drink and drive.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

I'm a little giddy...

I've always suspected it, but now i know.
(i don't know why the image isn't showing up, but i don't care)

Grammar God!
You are a GRAMMAR GOD!

If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!

How grammatically sound are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

oh, sure, i'm a lazy sum bitch so i don't always do things properly on here.
but at least i know i still have it...
that's right: my geekiness is intact.
at my last job (pre-housewiferyness) i was affectionately known as "Grammar Girl"....
okay, so there was a little animosity in there, too.
i don't often take these little quizzes, and i never post the results.
but i had to.
i got the link from Kook, at Beef Jerky Good.
who, by the way, is not only a hell of a good guy, but a kick ass web designer, so if you need something--he's your guy.

and i said i wasn't going to post today, so i guess i'll keep this short.
like my skirts.
speaking of which....
i maaay have gotten the exhibitionist thing out of my system.
don't count on it, but it's possible.
it's a rush, though, i tell you what.
i love the whole process--both sides of the camera.
in another lifetime, i think i would have really dug being a photographer for certain magazines...
i just got a really freaking cool idea.
i wish i had someone to pitch a book idea to!!!
oh well, i'll just pitch it to myself for now.

and now i'll shower.
don't forget to file your taxes!!!

p.s. one more thing.
does anyone watch MadTV?
the Stuart skit...he's this kid, played by an adult and his mom is all over protecitve and clueless.
he's like supposed to be 3 or something--makes me cry from laughing.
so of the things he says a lot is, "Look what i can do--" and then he'll do some really bad little dance or jump or stick his butt out.
so first thing this morning, here i sat.
twin B walks up to me, in just his underwear (mid change of clothes).
he says, "Look what i can do--" and pulls his lil penis out and flops it over the top of his underwear.
if it wasn't for that skit, i don't think i would have laughed.
i probably would have said, "that's great (sarcastically), put it back."
oh god.
it was soooo funny to me.

well how d'ya like that?

..i'm going nowhere with that, in case you're wondering.
it's just what happened to come out.
do you ever wish i would just stop and think before writing sometimes?
or at least edit out some of the rambling thoughts parts?
if so, sorry, sucks to be you.

i am writing this at night, cuz i plan to have a busy day tomorrow....
but we'll see.
i get sucked in every day...
i iplan to just check the comment box, then i end up checking 43 other blogs, and oh yeah don't forget buzznet.
and then it's almost lunchtime and i haven't gone to the gym yet.
bad, bad girl.
tomorrow it's triceps, back.
and tomorrow night?
please don't make fun of me....
we're going to a friend's house to watch the season finale of The Apprentice.
keep your snickers to yourself.
...unless they're the candybar kind, then you best be sharing!

i'm leaning back in my chair, eyes closed.
deep breath.
i want to feel something and give it to you, in black and whtie.
there's nothing there.
this isn't the right way to write...i guess i should be looking at the screen.
my lips are dry, lip balm downstairs...
my neck is sore.
a yawn.
i want to focus, reach deep inside and offer some small bit of goodness.
like a smooth white, speckled stone from the beach.
warm from the sun.
i want to wrap around you like a silken sheath of mist and be breathed in by you.
your blood oxidized by me, as you exhale the rubble, the unnecessary parts...
which float off again on the wind.
i want to leap up and dance in the clouds, my bare feet tickled by the mist, as i laugh.
i am reaching inside again, into the place that is secret even from my eyes.
moss reaches high up the trunks of hundred year old trees, and squishes beneath my feet.
ferns brush my thigh, frogs croak.
always i dream of home.
this keyboard is a thunderous racket compared to the soft tap of my laptop.
waking the sweet sleeper across the room, waking even me from my attempted trance.
i want to feel everything that there is to feel.
i want to stop being afraid of feeling things.
i want to catch a falling star and breathe life back into it, before tossing it back up.
i want to climb out my window onto my roof and breathe in this fresh mountain air--
i want to breathe it so deeply that i smell the ocean which once covered this land.
i want to dive into the cool waters of a quarry, revelling in the knowledge that eels swim below, waiting for dark.
i want to hear the rumble of a lobster boat engine, smell bait, feel the salty wind.
i laugh at myself now--the dreaming has brought me home again in a few short lines.
this is my home now, but that.
that is my paradise, my eden--the place which will remain perfect and beautiful in my mind.
the place where i have only good memories of innocence and joy.
...conveniently blocking out the rest.

well, now that i've finished today's therapy, what'll we talk about?
rock and roll?
how bout your mom's ass?
it is so big that---
aw, nevermind.
i like your mom.

i could tell you a secret.
but i don't have any...
i suck at secrets.
i also suck at not posting half or fully naked pictures of myself on buzznet.
it's a serious addiction.
and of course my husband is encouraging me, so that doesn't help.
"sure! why not post this one?"
...uh, honey, that's a close up of my cootch...
"yeah? so?"
he's a bad influence.
what else do i suck at?
lots of things...
i could make a list and be all funny about it, but i think it would be more depressing than funny.
so i won't.

and now all i can think about is finding my damn lip balm, getting a drink of water and going to sleep.
but i do think that Boz came up with the GREATEST sign off line....
so, i'll try it out for a few days, see how it feels.

gotta go--pool boy's here...

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

it's a blog day afternoon

my ass has actually grown into the chair.
literally, skin cells have attached to it and it'll hurt to stand up.
so i won't.
my kids were oddly mellow today, and i am cranky and crampy so here i sit.
and fuck you very much for asking.

honestly, though, i don't know what is going on.
why do i keep posting near-porn shots of myself on buzznet???
i mean...
it's fun and all.
but what the hell is my point???
i'm tired of it.
or maybe it's just hormones.
or whore moans.
why do the oldest of old jokes still make me laugh?
or at least exhale loudly.
you know what i'm talking about, that almost-laugh, not quite a snort?
the one that often accompanies the monotone, "that was funny."
cuz...if it was funny, why do we have to say it, shouldn't the laughter be enough?
and if there was no laughter, was it really funny?
speaking of riddles...
i had a little email conversation with a blogger i meant to link and now i will....hold on a sec...
Genuine Blog
so go read it.
where was I?
oh yeah.
so i left him a rather kiss-ass comment, cuz i loved what i read.
we went back and forth a little and this is where we ended up:

BHW: Well, okay, time to admit something else: I'm actually a 600 pound man with no teeth. But I have hundreds of nude self portraits....

Genuine: Now I'm really interested. How does a 600 pound man actually take a picture of himself? If you have no teeth, why are you 600 pounds?

it's a great question.
how does one reach such monstrous tonage without teeth?
and i have become rather adept at taking self-portraits, but i don't imagine i could if i was 5 times as big as i am.
unless we're just talking tits, cuz then, by god, i'd be setting up a webcam and charging entrance fees.
uh, where was i?
all i can think about is Rachel's new additions...
the twins.
all grown up.
makes me a little teary eyed....
no, wait, wrong bodily fluid...

i just want to lay on the couch and watch a movie.
but that would require the assistance of EMT's to extract me from this chair which is now technically a part of my body.
so instead i'll write some more crap that sucks the life out of anyone who stumbles across it.
i still feel kinda bad for all those folks who search for porn and end up here.
what a let down.
and did any of you know that there is a band called Bored Housewife?
true story.
search google.
my site comes up first, they're third.
the other day, my site accounted for the top 8 slots.
not that i care, because obviously people who go to google and search for "bored housewife" are not looking for me.
they are looking for something about 5% sluttier than this site.

oh lordy.
anyone for a game of lie very still and keep your fucking hands off my remote?
or how about a little round of get your ass in the kitchen and make my lunch cuz i'm too lazy?
doesn't that sound fun?
i don't imagine it would be very fun.
but neither is being a woman sometimes, okay?
i will try harder to change the subject.


now i'm done.


so you think you can tell.
heaven from hell.
blue skies from pain.
can you tell a green field, from a cold steel rail?
a smile from a veil?
do you think you can tell?

ah, the pink panthers.
or whoever.
and no, for the record, i often cannot tell the difference.
but good ole Roger always make me want to sit down and breathe some specifically, intentionally polluted air.

so we bought "big boy beds" for our kids tonight.
why the helli've been using that gay ass phrase is beyond me, but it has to stop.
here and now, i tell ya!
anyway, i'm pretty damn excited.
and we've decided to fence the yard.
thank god--or peter pan, or someone.
do you have any idea how much energy it takes to chase two 3 year olds in opposite directions?
do you?
too much.
a fence will help.
cuz i love going outside with them, but pacing back and forth, making sure they're not in the road....tiring.
laying in a lawn chair thingy with ice cold beer? not so tiring.
okay, so i have yet to ever consume alcohol in the presence of my children, but it sounded cool.

blah blah blah.
that was just a little friendly reminder, from your sponsor: this site really is written by a bored housewife.

as i drove the babysitter home tonight, a Jane's addiction song came on.
and i began wishing that i hadn't had my cd collection stolen.
and that was quickly overriden by my wish that i had a functioning download program.
so i sighed, and turned it up.
no, it wasn't freedom rock--but i turned it up anyway.
(raise your hand if you remember those commercials!!)
i need music.
i need it like a junkie needs a clean needle.
i need it like a nympho needs a lay.
i need it like a busy street needs a traffic light.
i need it like i need you.
okay, so maybe i'm just spoiled and impatient.
maybe i'm just lazy and cheap.
--i'm not here to make excuses.
i'm here to bitch and whine and ramble and tease.
i'm here to purge my brain of the words which make it hard to listen, to hear, to sleep.
my life is not interesting in and of itself, let's face it.
but here we sit.
we're all a bunch of little crazies.
i love it.

if anyone is interested...
by real life pal, Becky, wrote a fabulous little Ode to--who else? MOI.
yours truly.
so go read it.
and then observe a moment of silence in my honor.
and by moment of silence, yes, i mean touch yourself.
ew--not there, you big ole perv!
what are you--a bunch of animals??
i meant your knee. touch your knee.
you're at work.
wait til you're alone at least....then, touch away, my friends, touch away.

i need more mirrors in my bedroom.
yeah, i know.
mirrors are trashy.
but i've been reaching all time highs of ego lately, and i'm realling digging watching myself do stuff.
so bite me.

the mr.'s watching golf.
the masters, from the weekend.
so obviously, i'm doing this instead....
nuff said.

what else?
let me shake my head and see what else falls out....
i know--
I'm going to be in Las Vegas the weekend of June 25th.
Ms. Dvl, one of my Real World...Blogger Style roommates, is driving up from L.A. to hang out.
and that is the coolest thing EVER--my first real live blog friend to meet in person!!!!
i am in awe that she would do such a thing for me--she's probably a slot machine addict, and this is her cover story to weedle a trip to vegas...
but i'll take it!!
and things are going to get crazy, mark my words.
sure, we may end up just heading to a nearby red rock hiking spot...
sure, we may just get massages and drink tea all afternoon.
we might just drink the casinos dry and end up making out.
if anyone's interested in joining us: do it.
well...only if you're cool.
and if you're in doubt--ask us.
we're not afraid to discriminate.
but i have a dream...
(and wow, that's funny that i said "discriminate" and the next line was that particular quote.)
anyway, back to my wet dream.
i mean dream.
i have a dream of a blogger convention.
but i'm way too lazy to plan/coordinate/organize/execute such a thing.
so maybe if we all just wish on a star, it'll happen without any work.
dvl is enough for me--we will have a blast!!!
but there are a many others out there who i would love to talk to, face to face.
to laugh with, to drag along to strip clubs, to cajole into strange and dangerous things.
so there.
it's my dream.
and i will take pictures.

well, i'm out--

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

so tired that i couldn't even sleep

or too amped up on sugar.

so here i sit.
but i figure, if i can puke out enough words tonight, i'm off the hook for the morning.
it's so much easier to write when i'm surrounded by silence.
or music.
but not so much when i'm being interupted every sentence or two by the dearest ones.
which is fine, since they are the dearest ones.
but still.

i'm all dressed up with nothing to write.
what oh what oh what should i write?
maybe i'll tell a story from my past.

there was a guy...we met on the beach.
talked about sailboats and college.
his parents dragged him to maine on vacation.
i was home for the summer.
his white button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up.
his dockers rolled up, toes in the sand.
my hair was in my face most of the time, the wind whipping around us.
the sun began to set, all the frazzled mothers with their sunburned children were gone.
the seagulls even seemed to know it was almost day's end.
the moment he touched my hand, the sun hit the water.
we kept talking.
his passion was road biking.
his major was business.
we laughed a lot.
his thumb tracing my wrist bones.
the islands on the horizon were on fire, then the colors all faded to black--or the indigo blue of the early night sky.
he let go of my hand, and reached to brush the flying curls back from my face.
he was nervous, but sure and i leaned into the kiss.
he tasted like cedar, and salt water.
his eyes stayed open, and he pulled me gently closer.
i was shy, still wondering if being a "good girl" would really be worth it in the end.
we kissed for so long my neck began to ache.
so i laid down.
his weight on me was warm and reasuring.
my desire increased, with my heart rate.
i finally let my hands wander, pushing thoughts of sin out of my head.
i could feel his muscles beneath his shirt and i grew warmer, more insistent.
he reached hesitantly under my shirt, and I moaned softly, guiding his hand higher.
i refused to think, to be deterred by my conscience.
he pulled his shirt over his head, and i followed suit.
the feel of his skin on mine was the highest level of sensuality i had visited at that point in my life.
i was feeling things that i could not explain.
his kisses became hotter, then began tenatively moving down my neck.
this is it, i decided.
i will do this.
here and now.
as i reached for his belt, he paused and looked at me through half-closed eyes.
are you sure?
i nodded, and he kissed me softly, allowing me to finish my task of removing his pants.
he stood, and shook the sand from the blanket we had sat on, innocently, all day.
then carefully, removed my pants, as i lay breathing raggedly.
he was so sweet, so respectful.
he kissed me all over, then asked if i was ready before slowly, ever so slowly, sliding into place.
and it felt as good as i had always imagined--better, even.
i winced for a moment, but that moment was washed away with the pleasure of it all.
the crashing of the waves were all i could hear, but i could feel his breath on my neck, as he moved over me.
i raised my knees, wanting to feel everything, and he let out a long breath, probably a groan?
we were warm and tangled and feeling the kinds of things that kids feel in moments like that.
i felt triumphant--breaking the biggest rule of my sheltered life, and the sky had not fallen, lightening had not struck.
we became shy after we finished, slipping back into sandy rumpled clothes.
shivering, as the sea air hit our sweaty skin.
he took my hand again, folding our fingers together and made me look at him.
he smiled and promised that he would cherish my virginity, and i melted.
he knew the right words, which often means one has been too many places, done too many things.
but they are called "the right words" for a reason.
they filled the gap of uncertainty that had started to form, and i was calm again.
we drove to the only place open at that time of night, had cheesburgers and chocolate shakes.
then we drove back to our beach, watched the sun rise silently, and parted.

Monday, April 12, 2004

another monday another mondollar

or something.

been battling the puke monster this morning, so that's fun.
so far, i'm winning, but the tide could turn at any moment.
of course, selfish little old me--all i can do is be annoyed that i don't get to go to the gym.
that's okay, i'll do my pilates DVDs...if i remember to burn them.
cuz, no kidding, this week is back to boot camp for me.
I've been cheating on my diet like a Jerry springer wife on her husband/girlfriend/uncle...
i'm still maintaining, so it's no biggie.
bathing suit season is rapidly approaching.
and we're buying season passes to the water slide joint.
sort of puts the pressure on....

so anyway.
feeling a bit of a lull.
just calm and quiet.
no words raging inside, tearing their way out.
no hunger gnawing at my core, pushing me to new heights--or depths.
just sweet soft sunshine pouring in the window, resting on my cheek.
and the hum of the dryer, reminding me of the earthly tasks i have on my long list today.
and the dryer is reminding me of the bird i saw yesterday.
the bird, perched on my dormered window, with a big ole twig in his mouth.
then he flew up, and dove into the dryer vent.
it made me smile.
why does a bird making an illicit home in my home not fill me with creepy crawly annoyance like a mouse's attempts at the same?
it wasn't even a pretty bird.
smallish, blackish, with a hint of blue somewhere on his wing?
i don't mind, though.
i love birds.
i love opening the cage and placing my finger on his breast, so that he must follow his compulsion, his instict? and step onto it.
i lift him out and talk to him, smoothing his feathers with my soft touch, whistling to him.
delicate little gray and yellow and blue thing.
I miss having pets.
the Mr. is allergic to everything with hair, and i'm allergic to putting a lot of effort into the care of a pet...
so we're a bad pair.
cats are perfect for me--low maintenance.
probably get the boys a turtle or a bird at some point soon....

you know, my recent posts have seemed a bit strange to me.
it's like i was riding this roller coaster of a thought process:
flying along, eyes closed--up, down, around, the car rattling, the wind rushing past, the earth dropping away....
like i was on speed or coke or something.
not that i'm complaining, just didn't feel entirely like i was in control.
but who needs control??
not I.

had a nice family dinner thingy yesterday...
although i almost freaked out once.
we were discussing The Passion of Christ, and the fact that it's R rated came up.
this means that many/most mormons won't see it.
i just couldn't hold my tongue....
something about brainwashing slipped out, then i begged for someone to change the subject cuz i knew i couldn't stop myself.
they're cool, i just don't trust my un-reinable passions to discuss their religion in a dignified manner.
cuz it's not like i'm going to change their minds!!

but at least i'm avoiding the shower again, like a plague.
i used to love showering.
before the kids decided to ruin my one remaining pleasure in life...
it's so laaaaaaaame.
i'll be all lathered up, my mind a lightyear or two away, and the door slams open with a sharp bang.
i jump.
then i yell.
freaking sucks.


at least i get to go home this summer.
one of these times, i'm just going to stay.
i could lay in a hammock, i could buy sweaters again...
i could eat fresh seafood every day.
i could learn to sail.
i could be a part of my community without feeling like some leper outcast.
i could stalk stephen king.
i could re-strengthen ties with oldest friends and closest family.
i guess i should start hoping my husband loses his job.
although, his boss read this once last week, and could be reading it again, so i ought not to say such things.
but still....

have a good day and don't step in any dog poo.