all pissed off and nowhere to go

just kidding.
but i really like the sound of that.

and on a related note...
i don't understand men.
i really don't.
okay, maybe it's ME i don't understand.
but either way, i'm confused.

and i'm still sick.
so i skipped the family bbq--
hey, it was only fair:
hubby skipped my family's dinner yesterday,
and i'm skipping his family's dinner today.
have i mentioned lately how fantastic my husband is?
he's like...the greatest spouse on earth.
only more fun.
and better in bed.

so anyway, i'm home alone.
and i have to say, i feel a little guilty.
i could have gone.
i'm not deathly ill or anything.
but i weighed the two options carefully:
drag ornery kids to bbq, talk to a bunch of people, eat standing up while scolding my kids, then drive to SLC to return step son, and all the way home again--with ORNERY KIDS...
OR
do absolutely nothing, in an empty house.
yeah.
it was a no brainer.
which is good...
cuz i have no brain today.
feel free to slap your knee on that one.
(or my face, whichever seems more appropriate)

of my many colorful dreams last night, there was one involving sex with a nerdy guy at BYU.
this bothers me on so many levels.

i think that perhaps..instead of spending my entire evening in front of this blasted machine, i'll do something productive.
like watch a movie.
heh.
hey!
i'm sick.
although my house could use a thorough scrubbing down...
the step son weekends always seem to result in twice the mess.
not his fault, just...
we're busier and well, okay, he's a bit of a slob.
oh, who am i kidding?
i'd chose the net over the tube any day of the week.
so here i'll sit.
prowling about, to see if anyone's posted news of their weekend adventures yet.
or maybe i'll even get around to fucking with my links list.
or write up a fantasy friday ahead of time.
nah.
the way i feel it would be something like:
so there i lay.
snuggled into my down bed, with a cup of chai tea.
and in he walked.
with a nod i knew what he wanted, and i obediently rolled to my stomach.
as his hands worked their magic, a low moan escaped my lips.
soon his rhythm had rocked me into complacency...
harder, i whispered.
deeper.
yeah, that's right: a massage therapist.

you guys are a bunch of perverts.
i'm telling...