Thursday, June 30, 2005

Lobster, anyone?

Ok, but don't say I never offered to let you EAT ME.
...yeah, that's right.
3 hours at the pool with no sunscreen.
oh, that's not true, I sprayed my shoulders.
my legs are the worst...
burning at every touch, every whisper of fabric over flesh.
Dumbass McDumberton.
but at least I made my husband laugh out loud this morning when I got undressed.
every girl's dream!
I'm kinda striped....
too much time facing the wrong direction, I guess.
I'm dreading the shower...
see, unlike real lobsters, this lobster-colored girl really will scream when brought into contact with hot water.
I'll make it fast, and keep the water as cool as possible, I guess...
yes, I'm being dramatic about all this.
I've had hundreds of sunburns before,
and this one's no worse.
but, hey, I have nothing else to talk about.

I'm so glad to be feeling like myself again...
I should describe that strangeness before I forget about it.
a detachment from life, a marked lack of feeling--of any kind.
it was like losing my imagination and my desire for one, all at the same time.
there were a few really dark days--
which had no more outside cause than any of the overall gloom.
I felt like I was dying--or like I should die,
but when asked "why?", there was no answer.
I felt like that damn little black circle on the prozac commercials.
"have you lost interest in the things you used to love?" etc
it was...super lame.
the only tangible reasons I could come up with was unmanaged stress, and a (un)healthy dose of self-loathing.
so I finally just said, "fuck this."
I was, miraculously, able to give myself the proper pep talk, and it clicked.
"you're happy, dumbass, quit moping!"
...something along those lines.
It was awesome.
I am lucky.
and now I am free to move onward and upward.
stress made me eat, eating made me fat, being fat made me stressed...
vicious circle.
and now the pressure's off.
I remembered: I am happy and beautiful just the way I am. If I want to be in competition with every other woman for the rest of my life, then, yeah, I might as well end it NOW.
I am me.
I am NOT my body.
I am my soul, my dreams, my laughter.
...and my hair.
but comparing my waist line or the length of my legs, for god's sake, to everyone I see???
that could go.
I'm ashamed to admit I got caught up in that.
I didn't even realize I was doing it at first...
I guess it was my reaction to a loss of self-confidence--
my scrambling for a foothold.
but it's over...I'm chill.

also, I may or may not (may! may!) have had an unhealthy relationship with my computer.
not unhealthy, like it was abusive to me, or unhealthy like it used me.
more like...I was addicted and it was my enabler.
but my lack of interest in life helped me to back off from this crazy little world a little, and I was able to shift perspective.
my computer and I have worked things out.
we're going to just be friends.
and that, Martha, is a Good Thing.

is it a coincidence that I was listening to The New Kids On the Block while my bestest friend, and co-NKOTB lover was giving birth to her first baby?
well, yeah...
but it still cracked me up.
I could not be more thrilled for her--
beautiful baby...
She's going to be the best mom in the whole world.
and I am suddenly wishing I was going to Maine.
but, at least I can go buy some beautiful fabric and make a blanket...
the first of my close friends to have a girl baby!
they did it the old-fashioned way, and waited until the birth to find out whether it was a boy or girl, so I had a really good excuse for procrastinating!

ok, I'm off.
wish me luck battling the fire-breathing shower monster!
happy thursday--

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Happy Hump Day, to you and yours--

I hope you make the most of this beautiful day, neighbor.
nah, none of you are my neighbors.
but you wish you were.

last night I woke up from weirdo dreams,
in a fevered state.
parched, sweltering.
I opened windows, and cranked the A/C.
I was nearing panic, so I began stripping,
and sliding ice cubes over myself.
and for once, I wasn't even thinking about how sexy it would sound to describe.
I was miserable.
finally I cooled down enough to sleep.
then at 5 bloddy a.m., hubby's alarm went off.
he was NOT quiet in his preparations, either.
banging of the shower door, the medicine cabinet, a cupboard, a drawer.
good thing he doesn't usually get up that early.

we watched this really fucking cool documentary on the making of the first Star Wars movie.
it was called...umm..."Empire of Dreams", I think.
it was fascinating.
they had a lot of problems.

I did have some kookified dreams, though.
I can't remember them, so don't worry--
no long and rambling account to follow.

my kids are devoted to the destruction of my concentration ability.
just thought I'd share that with ya.

we went to the pool yesterday, even though half the sky was filled with the most enormous black storm.
it was heading straight for us, but I thought maybe we could get a little swim in first.
five minutes.
or less.
and the rain started peppering the ground.
and me.
it seems to be something I have the knack for, lately--
on saturday I took my car through a car wash.
not ten minutes later,
in the middle of a gorgeously blue-skied day,
quarter-sized dollops of rain dotted the sidewalk, and quickly overlapped each other.
"wicked pissah", as the hometowners would say.

well, I'm off to see the wizard.
my self-inflicted torture awaits me, at the gym.
I might just post pictures of my re-org project if you're lucky.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

It's a Tuesday that feels like Christmas in July 4th on acid

Don't ask.
don't question--
it's true.
and why?
because I wrote it.
everything I write should be printed on tissue-thin paper and bound in black leather, then dyed red on the edges.
just to avoid confusion, the title should be spelled backwards and upside down.
I am the god of my realm, at least.
good thing for you my realm is very
I was on a coffee high this morning before I had my coffee.
took the kids to school,
came home,
did laundry,
did hubby,
did dishes,
did organziationalistical stuff...
with my pretty new baskets.
and I gave myself a little haircut yesterday.
feeling fresh and bouncy--
springy curls and braless go well together, eh?
I'm listening to my music, at top volume
as it spreads all over the house........
such sweet joy.
it's the little things, isn't it?
Like the sound of the garbage truck, and the sure knowledge that you've done your duty by putting the damn can at the curb.
except on those days when you've forgotten.
and why is it such a horrible, sinking, silently-screaming feeling when you DO forget?
Probably left over childhood trauma from Sara Sylvia Cynthia Stout...
that lazy little cunt.

it's a grey day.
and that rhymes.
Max is obsessed with rhyming lately,
and Oliver hasn't quite grasped the concept--
which, understandably, pisses him off.
"Clock and watch do TOO rhyme, MOM!"
er...nuh-uh, baby.
but they are related...
he'll get it soon.

ok, enough about them, let's talk about ME.
coffee rocks.
I have 20 minutes left of free time, so I better go finish organizing the little spot in the kitchen where I dump all my shit.
I'll take before and after shots!
no, not because you are expected to remotely give a damn--
but because it'll be fun for ME.
and remember: it's all about ME.
besides, you might get a chuckle out of how insanely messy it is.
I know I do.
either that or a sideache, but really what's the difference.

quick Michael Jackson joke, I stole from Jay Leno, just cuz we can't let this rest--
he's fucking guilty!!!
"Michael's considering moving to Vegas, for a change of pace, and to maybe start performing again. He'll be pretty comfortable, I imagine, since they encourage you to hit on 16 and double down on 11."

I am pretty sure I had something more to say, but since when do I remember anything?
that's what I thought.
for the record, I am out of that funk I was stuck in for so long--
no, this isn't another false start.
I can tell.
I've reminded myself to stop tying my personal happiness up in my appearance,
and all became golden again.
stupid forgetful subconscious.

also, remind me to fucking use the Napster account I'm paying for.
songs, people, songs.
I need them, Napster has them.
they also have my credit card number and the authorization to charge at will.
oh, I bought a blogger's book from Cafe Press yesterday!
I can't wait for it to arrive.
it's a novel.
with an ISBN number an deverything.

yet another reminder to me to
I will.
I will.
also, I will have a great day.
see that you do the same.

Monday, June 27, 2005

Today is a gorgeous fucking day!!!!

Ok, how is it that I JUST noticed the add-a-picture function????
I'm going to have to take advantage of this--
like it's a horny and confused 19 year old mormon boy!!!
(and who left this box of exclamation points lying around??)

Did anyone else know the weekend immediately next on the calendar is the one in which Independence Day will be celebrated???
What the FUCK?
Wasn't it just my birthday, like 3 damn days ago??
july 4th minus june 19th does NOT equal one week.
bugger if time doesn't just speed right the fuck up on ya sometimes.
kinda like my heartbeat when I drink too much coffee or my eyes light upon my crush.
and I'm not talkin' of the Orange brand-name variety.
speaking of soda...
(and NO, it most certainly is NOT called "pop". yes, I will fight you on this--mud wrestle or thumb wrestle, your choice. not approved for all states, OAC, see lender for details.)
where the hell was I?
(yes, a box of extra swear words was also delivered this morning, and praise jesus, cuz I was almost out!)
that's right.
well, I was eating fresh cherries yesterday--
and there was a glass of diet coke on the counter,
so I thought...
cherry coke?
holy christ in a poodle skirt--
it was daaaaaamn good.
do they usually use fresh cherries??
I didn't think so, but maybe in the old days.

So the college crisis has been resolved--
I might be embarassed to tell you what I'm taking.
It's a music class, to fulfill my fine arts requirement.
it's the history of a certain type of music...
Rock n'Roll!!!
yes, I think it's sounds like a total cop out class.
but I don't care.
it will be fascinating, and if I have to do a lot of work for it,
at least it will enjoyable,
and if not, all the better!
so Creative Writing and History of Rock n Roll.
it's ok, I'm making fun of myself, too.
I really just want to take it slow this first semester.
it's been 9 years since I've taken any classes.
and I didn't have kids or a husband or a blog addiction then.
I just had a job.
jobs are fucking easy.
even waitressing 12 hours a day was easier than being a mother.
because I got paid.
and praised.
and I could say the 'f' word a LOT--
without feeling guilty.
however, if I ever find myself in a position where I must support myself,
or where my income is required as a supplement,
I would like to be able to do something more...
fulfilling than that.
and by "fulfilling" I mean "filling"...
of my WALLET.
besides, I wouldn't waitress again for $500 a day.
ok, scratch that.
yes I would.
but the point is, I am ready to get a degree.
and to learn the skills required to be successful as a...
sssh....whisper it...
don't want to jinx myself, ya know.

I finally bought my ticket yesterday to go see my sister!!!
It's gonna be awesome.
Now I have to go look up a dentist, a neurosurgeon, and a priest.
ok, not the priest, but I was on a "bad joke setup" roll...

oh, and I have pictures of my new (beautiful) table, but I am having issues with getting them off the memory card.
much to do today.
including getting my ass kicked, by request, at 3 o'clock.
damn I hate that kid.
I'm going to buy him a present!

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Miracles really do happen!!

You may notice I have a properly functioning keyboard...
or maybe you didn't notice, but in any case, I do have one.
and you also may notice
(although, I'm going to go with "probably not" on this one, because none of you have seen or spoken to me today, or ever, for that matter...)
that I haven't been to the store yet.
the miracle of Lisa's last remaining neuron firing off into the lonely synapse in the corner,
causing her to remember/realize/divine the possession of another keyboard.
Kids' room.
I only saw the damn thing 43.2 times between the time I spilled water in mine and "discovered" theirs.
not bad if you take into account my temporary recurring bouts of Alzheimer's.
it's true.
my doctor insists that it's not a "real" condition, but what the hell does he know??

last night we took the kids to a fireworks display for our town fair thingy.
it was...
it lasted a solid 30 minutes, and the best part was we arrived, found easy parking in an out-of-the-way place, snuggled up in our big old blanket on the sprawling lawns behind the fairgrounds (where all the other thousands of people were), and they started within minutes.
It was one of those perfect family outings.
and today we went to a little lake above one of the ski resorts.
gorgeous weather, gorgeous surroundings.
they loved it--
my kids.
and did I mention how mother fucking phenomenal it is to have Mr. husband home again???
he was only gone for 4 days, but that's about 3 1/2 too many.
hey--I'm no clinger.
it's not so much that it's "bad" when he goes away,
it's really nice to have the chance to miss him.

I am really struggling to pick a second class for the coming semester.
I'm afraid that if I pick something really hard,
it will discourage me...
I'm afraid of taking two easy classes right off,
and using them up before I start going full time and need a little buffer...
Everything loooks harder than it should,
after ten years away from school...
I just have to keep reminding myself that I am smart enough,
and I will EVENTUALLY discover some study habits...
maybe under a rock.
or in the back pocket of some law student who looks vaguely like a guy I used to date.
under the front seat of my car?
the breeding grounds of the ancient study habits have been superceded by urban sprawl,
but I will not give up until I see them in their natural habitat.

Happy Summer to you all--

Saturday, June 25, 2005









Friday, June 24, 2005

Thursday, June 23, 2005

When you're strange...

faces either come out of the rain or the mirror,
I can't remember which.
ok, that's a lie.
I love the doors.
something about Jim Morrison sorta takes my breath away.

and I won't pretend to be "back", because if any of you have IQs over like, 12, fer chrissake, you've noticed that I'm a yo-yo lately, anyway.
she's up, she's down--and still going down, fyi.
I wore the tank top to the gym today...
("I suck...but at least i'm good at it")
the woman checking my kids into the playroom read it, out loud...
and laughed, appreciatively.
I just had to mention that I had made it myself, didn't I?
and THEN.
I went to the little trainer's desky to check when my next appointment is
(ok, so maybe i had one yesterday that I totally thought was today...)
and one of the guys started reading it.
did I blush?
several shades, at least.
(I wonder how many times I say "at least" in a week, on here? it's gotta be at least a least a hundred!!)
so I guess I won't be wearing that in public for a while.

I am pretty sure I'm going to cancel this Friday's birthday outing.
mostly because I haven't found a babysitter yet,
but also because two of the girls haven't RSVPeeed yet,
and the more I think of it, the more I think the other two girls need to just go do their thing.
maybe J and I can just hang out (but since neither of us has a "wang", it won't be out)...
I think that means I'm getting old.

why am I so damned needy?
I just am, I guess.
I love people soooo much, though.
and I want everyone to love me, every minute of every day.
openly, wildly--and with oozing sores.
ew, ok, maybe those with sores could refrain a bit...
but I want to flow through you like a sliver of wind,
and see/feel/taste/know...
you from the inside.
I want to be all that I can be in the army of ME.
I am, after all, the Captain of my soul.
the master of my destiny.

I was composing a letter to Oprah today...
in my head.
I've forgotten the subject matter,
but it included this gem:
knowing really is half the battle, as GI Joe claims,
but let's not forget that knowing is only half the battle--there must also be a solution.
god, I'm a genius.
...someone nominate me for woman of the year, wouldja?

and I still haven't figured out what to give my Dad for Father's day...
yes, it was last week, back the fuck off.

how do you harness something as large as the sky,
and stronger than gravity?
how do live with that locked up in a desk drawer, instead of splashed across the horizon?
you probably don't.
which is why I shouldn't be surprised that I can't, either.
so...i guess i need to find a way to fit into this world I live in.
what did i call it once...?
um...something about white picket fence feeling more like bars of a prison.
f'k'n' drama queen.

sometimes, when I'm alone...
I worry, in split-second intervals, that someone is about to enter my home,
someone dark and sinister--
and that's not as cool as it sounds.
I'll hear a noise and my imagination is first on deck,
but I shush it reflexively.
it's my survival instict.
when I let my mind indulge those fantasies, I soon become paralyzed with fear.
this hasn't happened in years, but sometime, I would like to have the guts to explore that line of thought, and write horrid stories.

My name is Lisa and I have a crush on a Tee Ball dad.
whew, that feels good.
it's not my fault...I'm an addict.

if you like yourself, AT ALL--
give yourself a present, by going here.

it's thursday.
don't forget to get extra sleep tonight, since tomorrow is el weekendo
party on Garth.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005


(after I figure out how many "s"s go in "discusion"...)

Is posting drunk or posting on a coffee high better?
what if you're on a coffee high when your friend's ex husband calls to see if she's at your house, but you don't know she's coming, so you call her at her other friend's house, and get THAT friend's ex-husband, who also thinks the two girls are at your house and holy shit, are you still with me, cuz I don't even know if I am still with me...and then, while you're talking to the second girl's exhusnad fuck that's spelled wrong, but as you'll note, I'm drunk, so it doesn't count on the big books of "how many spelling and/or grammatical errors Lisa has committed in her lifetime"....fuck. where was I? oh yeah, while on the phone with 2nd dude, the girls call me to tell me they're on the way. jesus H. (that "h" should be said with a truck load and a half of disdain--don't ask why)

then there was wine
and rum stuff.
I fixed Becky's computer.
cuz I'm a genius.
and/or married to one.
I really wish I could use that in a sentence like, "Would you be so kind as to close the window and door?"
that was funnier the last time I said it.
probably becuase it was far more contextually relevant.

being drunk, my inhibitions are lower--
inhibitions are inversely proportional to inebriation levels.
don't look at me like that--ask any fucking mathemetician.
or algebra teacher.
except my sister--she's asleep.
fu ck, I need to remember to buy my plaine ticket.
why did I a) put a space in the word "fuck"
and b) put the letter "i" in the word "plane"?
if I'm as tipsy as I feel, then how is it that I noticed those things?

I'm going to have to vote for posting drunkishly.
no, wait.
posting on a coffee high.
maybe they're just equal.
but I'll have you know I have drafted a post wherein I claerly, concisely throw in the proverbial towel.
on on this blog.
when not intoxicated in manner or another,
I am quite through with this whole thing.
because the muse(s) are as silent as the god damn lambs.
they've trotted off to pasture and become addicted to the fields of clover,
forgetting that they were pledged to be mine until the dawn of time or the end of eternity--
probably the latter, as the former means the beginning, and how to you manage to be pledged TO someone until the beginning of time???
that's fucking terrible communication skills, that is.

ok, so who votes that I must always be drunk or coffee high when I post from now on?
yeah, me too.
I think I'm vastly more depressed than I would ever admit if I were sober.
or you.
or a sober you.
there are two reasons I won't admit this, and have you noticed I am sooooo into making lists of two items today???
1) because my Pops is a depression-aholic, and I refuse to be the same.
2) because I have no earthly reason to not be filled with more joy each moment that ticks by.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am not a creature designed for sublimity.
fuck, there's gotta be a better word for that.
I just remembered that my husband's boss read my post from earlier today--
wait, not his boss anymore.
his former boss.
and remarked, "Lisa's not allowed to bitch about your travel if I'm not allowed to bitch about my network."
he's awesome.
looks exactly like my best friend's husband, incidentally.
but what the hell was my point?
I didn't have one that time...
and it's true--the old company doesn't run so great from an IT standpoint since my blonde haired blue eyed one absconded.
it's funny...
I learned some of my favorite $2 words from her mom, as my 8th grade english teacher,
and some of my favorite 4 letter words from her...
"king shit on turd island."
"I look like ass of dog"
for some reason jon stewart reminds me of her, and I smile.
she doesn't look like him.
it's just something in the body language, the style of humor, I think.
I'm all over the place like a mosquito in a butcher's shop.
ten bucks to the first person who gets me to walk a straight line.
you guys aren't here.
that poses a problem.
did I mention that I like wed rine?
I wrote it exactly as I thunked it!
fuck yes, that was great.

maybe I'm not meant to be "normal"!!!!!!
did you ever think of THAT, oh mr. wizard behind the curtain in the emerald city of OZ???
you fucking jackass prick son of a whore!
I don't have to be a soccer mom.
I don't have to cook dinner every night
I don't have to love housewifery (which, despite phonetic similarities, is not related in any way to "animal husbandry"...ok, scratch phonetic similarities...more like general word similarities. it sounded uppity-er the first way, though.)
I do still want to fly.
I'm glad i can be bothered to use italics even when I'm floating in a sort of dizzy haze of happy fermented grapes smooshed up and processed in whatever-the-fuck way they are processed to turn into wine......
I want to be smooshed up and poured into a bottle...
would you drink me?
with a delicate pasta, and some insanely difficult to pronounce and/or prepare sauce?
I used to dream of culinary arts institutionalization...
or degree-ification.
but, as with all my dreams, I soon woke up--
which I don't mean in the vernacular of "came to my senses."
I mean, literally, REM faded, eyes stopped twitching, snoring abated, bladder cleared its throat impatiently--
of the every-morning variety.
I want Julie.
the other one.
I want to hitchhike to Montana and show up on her doorstep.
I want to drink coffee and be deep and serious--
for 5 minutes, at least.
then, I want to laugh so loud
so hysterically
so guffaw-ically
and hear her latest tales of love--
for they really are.
tales of love.
every 6 monthes or so, she falls in love again.
but she really does--
fully, and wildly and madly.
I love her faith in new beginnings.
she's the sister I met when I was 6.
more like me than my real sister of the same name.

I wish...
that I didn't forget to cry when I need to.

I will not be a meteor.
I will not be afraid of failure
or success
or my own ever-widening shadow

I announced tonight that my 30th year will be the year of giving up--
as a way of new beginnings.
I will give up on ever looking like a 19 year old again
I guess the rest of the stuff I listed is either not pertinent or not for public knowledge.

it's 11:11...make a wish...

did you guys know that if you bite into a Life Savers brand Wint-O-Green mint, in the dark, there is actually a visible spark?
it's true.
it was my best pickup line of the 90s.
I mostly used it on mormon missionaries (19-21 and CUTE--it was a pre-req, I swear)
but it was hot.
I was a true good girl back then...
my wild side was more like a stripe--
a pin stripe--
at that point.
ah well.

I should probably stop typing now.
mostly because I'm still drunkish and I need to be getting to sleep soon.

have I told you lately, that I love you?
probably not.
cuz i'm all sorts of basket-case-ish lately.
but I do.
I feel (perhaps erroneously) that my readers are a reflection of me...
so, since you guys are all fantastic in about 26 different ways, each--
thath makmes mee feel good.
and what in hte name of CHRIST did I just do with the keyboard???? wasn't typing that's for damn sure.
have a great night.
don't forget to floss.
it prevents bad breath, ya know.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

It's two-fer Tuesday!

(not associated with Topher Grace, in any manner)

two for what?
you ask?
let me just tell you!
two for Lisa's list of idiocy.
Firstly of all,
I had a checkup at the doctor.
new doctor.
lovely office, nice receptionist, friendly nurse.
(each of them has a sibling with twins, fyi)
the nurse and I decide there is a 100% chance they'll need a blood sample,
we win.
yaaay us!
so I prattle on...
telling her how small my veins are, and how dodgy.
little fuckers don't like to sit still for the needle.
I launch into the story of the time the borderline retarded girl stabbed me to death in a variety of locations and still failed to retrieve the blood sample.
that was ONE time out of probably 50.
everyone else has been successful, if not quick.
I'm tough.
I don't mind getting poked in the arm a dozen times in 5 minutes.
I do, however, rather dislike the feeling of a needle in the back of my hand.
so what did this nurse do?
she gave it one try on one arm,
and then went for the hand.
apparently my story had her convinced it was the only way!!
you could say I shot myself in the foot there--
or the back of the hand, rather...

so then, it was off to the joy the is Wal-Mart.
you might think I"m being sarcastic,
but I'm not.
it's funny that it has a "trashy" reputation in most other states,
even in Maine i was wary of it.
but here?
EVERYONE shops there.
from those of us making 6 figures, right on down the line.
maybe it's because so many families are big families/single income, due to the mormon thang, or maybe it somehow fell through the cracks of this shallow, judgmental population as a faux pas.
I have no idea.
either that or I'm the only one who's not embarassed to be seen there.
where was I???
oh yeah.
--at Wal-Mart.
so I wandered around, picking out an ironing board and a rubbermaid drawer thingy for sorting some of the kids toys, in their closet.
a little later, I dropped a muppet's movie into the cart.
I'll repeat that: I dropped a DVD into the cart.
blah blah blah, picked out some more stuff, checked out.
as I was walking out, I set off the alarm thingy.
I handed the lady my receipt, and she poked around a bit,
even mentioned that usually it's a CD or DVD that sets of the alarm.
I had completely spaced the Muppets, AND I knew I hadn't deliberately stolen anything, so I smiled and nodded and she let me go with a smile and a nod.
get to car, unload stuff.
what's that in the bottom drawer?
it was the movie--inside the drawer.
I have no frigging idea how it got inside--
I guess the drawer must have been slightly ajar
(which is nothing like a bottle, just so ya know)
and it must have slipped in.
I looked at my watch and realized that I didn't have time to go back inside.
I felt bad...
but at least it was only a $5.50 movie from the "get this shit out of our store" bin.
maybe I'll take care of it next time I'm in.
and maybe I'll be a rebel--
lord knows I need a rush.

I'm not cut out for being married to someone who travels a lot.
I miss him.
but I'm not allowed to complain--
it's not in my nature, really.
I am supposed to smile and pack his stuff and tell him everything's fine.
because even if money doesn't buy happiness,
it does buy a secure future and that is important...
I don't usually talk about it on here, either,
because hubby doesn't like the idea of "anyone/everyone" knowing when, exactly, I'm alone.
he has a point.
I'm sure none of you are psycho stalkers,
but with the content of this site, it's not exactly a stretch to imagine it might happen.

later al-o-gators--

Monday, June 20, 2005

Mondays are for foggy heads...

which is not the same as FogHat.

The weekend was great--relaxing, refreshing, etc.
we didn't gamble,
unless you count that sushi I got at the buffet...
hey, at least it was an expensive buffet--
so that counts for something.

Vegas has changed sooo much since the first time I was there,
eleven years ago.
I remember when the Luxor was not surrounded by other giant buildings.
I remember when the Venetian didn't take up a 3 mile swath of the city--
not that I'm complaining; it's gorgeous.
we had a lovely suite with a lovely view--
not that we ever opened the drapes.
we made it to Zumanity, and were blown away.
it was really beautiful, and funny and sexy.
hey--just like me!!!
no, but those dancers sure did inspire me to hit the gym even harder--
the guy sitting next to us was offended by the sexual content and left.
fucking loser.

and then there was Hooker Watch--
we had no way of proving our suspicions, of course,
we certainly had fun picking them out.
with their bright lipstick and their overly-enthusiastic conversation--
one-sided, as the John was too busy trying to look cool or law-abiding or unmarried or whatever.
the matter of the cross-eyed salesman,
whose accent my husband guessed was BROOKLYN.
no, sweetie.
it's most assuredly latin-based.
spanish or italian--
and I am ashamed to say I only threw in the "italian" because he was fair skinned and blonde...
I didn't know Cubans could look like that--
I plead ignorance.
he was pretty cool, even if it was impossible to look him in both eyes at once...

we ended up lounging around the room all evening on Saturday--
yes, there was some sex involved,
and the husband falling asleep around 10.
so I got up and showered,
got ready, and woke him
(several times)
and then we went and met up with his brother, over at a different casino.
we ate and talked--good times.
then we watched the brother burn through almost a thousand dollars at the craps table.
(sorry, couldn't resist...)
he started winning some back, at black jack,
but we went back to our hotel around 3, so we don't know what happened.
he's a risk taker--
better at business risks than Vegas risks, I think.

so that's about it.
good times.
and I got to spend my entire 30th birthday in the car.
so that was cool--
stupid planning on my part, really.
oh, and I discovered that staying at the casino hotels sucks.
because it's impossible to get to your room.
through the gaming floors, up an elevator and down
a hallway.
our room was the last one at the end of that hallway,
and the key cards they gave us didn't work.
so hubby trekked downstairs.
and back.
and still no dice.
on his THIRD trip back to the check-in desk,
he demanded a new room.
they also gave us a 50$ credit,
which we used to get room service for breakfast on my actual birthday--
totally sweet.

do I feel any different as 30?
of course not.
but as it settles over me, I think I will.
I'm still imagining it will be a good thing.
I plan to finally become organized and focused and stuff.
or act like a grownup....?
eh, maybe.

in the meantime, the REAL party's Friday.
me and my girlfriends.
and liquor.
more news on that as it becomes available.

have a great day, and thanks again to all of you who wished me a happy birthday!!

A Maine sunset--a perfect birthday gift from a dear friend/cousin. Posted by Hello

Friday, June 17, 2005

My last post as a twenty-something...

I'm not sure if I feel the same about turning 30 as I thought I would,
but I'll figure it out later.
We leave for Vegas in the morning,
so this may be the last y'all see of me until Monday.
which is good.
the way I've been posting lately,
yer not missin' much.
I hope you all have fantastic weekends of your own,
and if you wish for anything for me for my birthday,
wish that I'll get my mojo back
or get out of this funk
or whatever.
I just want to feel that fire of creativity running under my skin like a thousand moths, searching for the lone porch light in the dark woods of Maine...
it always comes back to that, doesn't it?
I don't know if it's the 4 cups of coffee I drank
(in an effort to shed a couple of pounds before the big weekend...)
or the fact that I heard a couple of fantastic songs earlier,
or the little known facts I memorized from the back of that creal box last winter...
I'm feeling a bit of a buzz.
I'd like to be feeling Bo's ass(thanks for the reminder, Pisser)...
but since I'm not and will never be--
maybe some of you would be kind enough to bottle up a copped feel of your respective (if not respected) asses for me...?
oh, come ON.
I don't ask for much, I really don't.
you could do that for me.
I'm not really an ass girl,
but since everything's topsy turvey lately,
I figure, why the fuck not?
which reminds me...
(yes, husband o'mine, pull out that checkbook)
if I EVER become deluded
enough to get plastic surgery?
it'll be ass-plants.
of course, at my mention of this,
the darling husband said, "but how would you sit down?"
I, of course, proceeded to show him that you don't really sit on the part I wanted enlarged--
and I even threw in an imaginary "bird".
no....not "imaginary".
as in "free of charge."
as opposed to the times when I flip people off for cash, drugs or sex.
I guess that coffee's kicking in.
or on?
kickin' it, at the very least.
I can't WAIT to read Maine's review of tonight's "Hit me BAby One More Time"...
oh, what I woudn't give to be on the phone with him while it's on!!
of course, with time zones and all that, it wouldn't work.
oh well.
I guess I'll have to wait, then.

carry on my wayward sons, daughters, cousins and creepy uncle Dick who doesn't know the meaning of "too many rum & cokes" (or maybe he does...)

happy birthday to ME.
Viva Las Vegas.
---marry me?

newsflash: the husband is a closet boy-band fan.
what the FUCK am I going to do about this???
I'm pretty sure it's grounds for divorce.
aww...but he's so cute....I guess I can live with it...
and that coffee is still turning me up a notch.
or twelve.
next time I piss and moan about having nothing to write?
remind me to drink some fucking coffee fer chrissakes!!!!
send me pictures of your boobs.
hey--I'm old now, I deserve something!!!

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

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 snort the coke of American Idol.
I will wait.
I will wait.

(this may have been a re-broadcast...)

Lightening crashes...

Last night, Max and I sat on the back porch and watched lightening cut through the sky.
it was intense.
I think the best way to die would be to be struck by lightening--
hell, I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet,
what with all my blasphemy and hedonistic living.
I can hope, I guess...
It was beautiful, though.
all over the sky, just flash after flash--
jagged streaks, and muffled blasts.
the thunder played an unexpectedly small role in the events.
and the storm itself seemed to have materialized out of...
It was warm and there was only a little rain,
so we sat, gasping and pointing.
little guy talking a blue streak...
we saw a greenish flash, at one point,
which seemed to indicate a strike.
the power of all of nature is what I am drawn to--
the power in the engine of a big truck, or a rumbling Harley.
the power of great knowledge.
there was a power to the charisma of my husband--
the way he has of making people like him.
everyone does--
even when he's an asshole, so the saying goes.

my trainer kicked my ass soundly today.
ever work out shoulders and the next day do chest?
not so pleasant.
as it turns out, you use your shoulders for a lot of the chest presses.
so, my already tired shoulders took a bit of a beating today.
my pecs don't feel much, but that's ok.
I discovered the lil mormon fart has a one month old baby.
I'll use that against him if I have to.
(no, I don't know what the hell that meant. it just sounded tough.)

spent the afternoon at the swimming pool.
met a nice mom, with a son entering kindergarten this fall, too.
there were too many high school kids there, for my tastes.
yes, I was just jealous of their little bikini-ness.
one of the little trollops had an obvious boob job, though.
16 and plastic surgery???
gimmeee a break.
that's enough of the bitterness...
I had a lovely time.
read my book, played in the water.
I loooove my new swimsuit, too.

Now it's time to go get ready for Tee Ball.
yet another shower.
no help required, thank you very much.
unless you're going to be around...


it's time to shower.
past time, actually.
I'll post later.

"nice post"?
you sarcastic prick--
kiss my ass, ok?
no, really.
I want you to...

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Happy Flag Day!!!

And Happy Birthday to one of my readers...
damned if I can remember which one, though.
I suck.
I have been sorely dropping the ball lately--
I have unanswered email and undialed calls.
oh, I know!!
Happy Birthday to Cecil B.!
and good luck in (South) Korea, is also in order, if I'm not mistaken.

I had a dream that I was helping a mother prepare for the birth of her triplets.
We were organizing the house, etc.
I was telling her it would be HEINOUS.
which is funny, because last time I checked...
I don't have triplets.
it was kinda funny.
and then I was driving some weird van thing with shitty brakes and transmission from hell,
down some crazy high way, looking for a music store.
I love it when I have weirdo dreams.
I hate it when I feel like posting at (only) the times when I shouldn't.
like, right now, I should be showering.
so I can get the kids to school.

this post blows.
good thing it's Tuesday...

I just took the kids to school,
and stopped in at my doctor's office to get a blood test.
I was informed that they don't take my new insurance.
so why does this fuck me up so badly?
well, because I chose that doctor solely based on his proximity to my new house.
and he's been trying to get me in for a blood test,
so he keeps giving me these shitty one month prescriptions to force me back in.
because I'm a new patient so he wants to make sure it's all cope-friggin-cetic,
I guess.
so this is all his fault.
and NOW, I have to find a new doctor and get HIM to write me a damn fucking stupid prescription for my useless piece of shit thyroid--
or whatever the hell's left after they nuked it, 17 damn years ago.
shit, I'm old.
this is highly upsetting.
especially since I was supposed to go for the blood test fasting--
and not only do I hate not eating,
but it reminds me of church.
and that's never good.

all I want is to curl up with my computer,
my IM,
and my favorite British biker...
but, no.
I have to go get my ass kicked by senor evil trainer.

how's that for poetry??
how's that for the work of a true writer?
I deserve to get my ass kicked.
and not just by a trainer.

I think it's obvious that I mean I'm good at being bad at stuff....what? Posted by Hello

have a fantastic day, and put on some damn sunscreen.

Monday, June 13, 2005

Mondays ROCK

they do?
sssh! just go with it, ok??
yeah...I one's going to buy it, though.
oh, shut up.

so who had a great weekend?
I'm pretty sure I did.
so that counts for something.
had a swimming pool-sized mug of beer last night,
with the youngest of hubby's 5 brothers,
who turned 21 last week.
he's still pretty excited about the whole thing--
it's cute, really.
in a "holy shit was I ever that young???" sorta way...
and my damn 15-year-old BABYSITTER--
kept telling the damn 15-year-old boys she was talking to on her damn cell phone
that I am 40.
when they asked her if I was hot, she said yes,
bless her.
and she corrected my age, too.
I suppose, to a 15 year old, 30 is the same as 40.
but still.
it was highly offensive.
for 2.3 seconds.

ok, time to figure out a plan for the day.
time to prioritize, and rearrange--
and shower.

Housewife out--

Saturday, June 11, 2005

I was just thinking...

and it hurt like hell.
but seriously...
I don't remember what I was thinking about so I might as well drop it.

So I almost wore my "I Suck, but at least I'm good at it" tank top to the gym yesterday...
but I chickened out.
it has the URL on the back...
and I just didn't feel like drawing that kind of attention.
to myself.
the blog?
fine--bring it on.
but I'm not so sure I want local strangers wandering around here.
that could get awkward.
I'm thinking of starting a campaign to prove to all you sorry unbelievers that Utah does indeed have hot hot hot construction workers/landscapers.
My favorite radio station has a huge blue collar following, especially during the lunch hour, which is hosted by a woman...
I'm thinking she could put the word out,
stir up a little interest.
but, again, that leads to locals getting the URL.
what to do, what to do.

It's a cool and cloudy weekend, as predicted.
so, good thing camping's off.
I really feel restless.
I need to doooooooooo something!!
go somewhere
I need to push limits,
and sniff out boundaries--
just so I can slide my little foot right over them.
ahh...that would be a rush.
I would giggle and then trip and tumble across.
invisible boundaries are funny like that.
I'm still waiting for those damn wings in my back to unfurl and take me--
over the mountains, across the plains,
to my ocean.
to familiar sights sounds smells.
to the not desert
to the not religiously oppressive
to the un dry
the un hot
the un treeless
moss and ferns and little clear streams....

Friday, June 10, 2005

I'm in the mood...

that mood.
well, my writing streak is in the mood, at least,
and that's all that matters.
now, if only the kids will cooperate by staying out of my hair for the next 20 minutes...
cross your fingers for me--
that reminds me...
I think it's funny that we use crossed fingers to make all promises null and void,
as well as to hope for the best.
what the hell does that mean??
so depending on the surrounding circumstances,
we know which meaning to asign.
and why don't we do it with other gestures?
an extended middle finger means "fuck you", traditionally,
but if you're just sitting around chatting with friends,
it should also mean, "wanna come over for dinner? I'm making sushi!"
Or what about the shrug?
let's say, if you're shrugging at someone who didn't ask you a question,
it should mean "so what kind of music do you like?"
I don't know, just an idea...

I just asked for 20 minutes of peace and quiet,
but the downside to that is,
now I'm going to sit here and worry about why the hell the house is so quiet.
be right back--
ok, they're upstairs.

I haven't written a Fantasy Friday post in so long...
I kept it up for a year, but finally the Viagra wore off--
ba dum ching!
yes, I know what you're thinking.
I did have bad stand-up for breakfast.
it's pretty tasty--
part of a complete breakfast, with toast, juice, and milk!!!!!

a fantasy is what I was thinking I would do,
but now that I'm here,
I am not so sure...
well, to hell with it--
I'm jumping in!

9:52 am(ready set go)

9:59 am (music is now selected, and playing...traditional jazz, napster radio)

10:10 am (just scrapped the story to start over...)

see what happense when I put even the tiniest bit of pressure on myself???
ok, forget it.
I'm just going to write the shittiest piece of shitty shit that you've ever seen, outside a bathroom.

and...I just took time out to take pictures of my ass, and my new "I suck but at least I'm good at it" shirt.
I'm a procrastinating pro.
I also took a survey for napster, earning 5 free songs.
changed my radio station to 80s pop--
Total Eclipse of the Heart, baby!!!!
That was my faaaaaavorite song when I was in 1st grade.
maybe 2nd.
I can still remember sitting on the school bus,
drawing little hearts and smilies in the condensation on the window,
and singing that song to myself, soooo softly.
boucning along, past the Keag store--
which is pronounced "gig", oddly enough.
that was before I knew I couldn't sing...
I think the only thing I want for my kids,
is for them to not be as shy as I was.
better shy than trouble makers, I guess.

ok, wow.
good work, Lisa!
way to avoid writing--again.
I should have known this wouldn't work.
this radio station kicks ass, though.

I just finished reading a fantasy I wrote recently...
and it's one of my favorites,
but I think the heart of this is that I don't have proper inspiration.
and I'm taking it waaaay too seriously.
I don't want to get very graphic.
aren't you glad that I can't think a single thought without typing it here????
jesus, I'm annoying.

11:01 am
...I'm starting to regret making a note of the time,
as I go along...
I've just wasted an entire hour.
and I'm getting all worked up.

11:15 am
Peter Gabriel, "In Your Eyes".
I think this may break my writer's block...
and if not, I'll post a picture and call it good.

this song always makes me think of being in the backseat of a car with a boy,
rain dripping down the windows, lightly pattering the roof.
(probably because of John Cusak and Ione Skye in...Say Anything...)
if we were there, now, the backseat of a car, in a rainstorm...
to recapture that innocence--
that breathlessness of not knowing how far it would go...
you. and me.
as teenagers...

11:34 am
ok, i'm posting that fantasy.
sorry for all of the super lame filler...

march 25, 2005

The hot humid air clings to us, and the ceiling fan merely stirs the soup of it.
I can't sleep, so I go turn on the shower--
nice cool water.
I stand under it, feeling so refreshed and awake after the lethargy of the tropical afternoon.
The sound of the shower curtain opening startles me--
a gasp that turns into a huge smile.
I make room for you under the cooling spray, and you smile at how alive you suddenly feel.
You bend and take my nipple in your mouth, your hand cradling my soft breast.
Your other hand slides down my back, across my ass, and around to my freshly shaven mound.
Your fingers move magically across the folds, drawing out the hot slick wetness, and extracting the first small moan from me.
You look at me, and I lean into you, holding you in a long kiss.
You sink to your knees...
I lean back,
the cool water washing over me,
and feel your tongue pressing so gently into me.
(author's note: I just shivered at that image...)
You savor the taste, and delicately shove me to the edge of climax--
holding me there, as I fight to not slide down the wall of the shower,
panting, writhing, clawing at the tile in vain.
When the shuddering has finally subsided, you stand and hold me--
hold me up.
You kiss my collarbone, on up my neck, and breathe softly into my ear, taking it gently in your teeth.
This flips a switch in my groggily sated self, and I attack--
needing you inside me, urgently.
I savagly kiss you, pressing you against the wall,
one hand contrastingly gentle on your balls.
You shiver at my touch and regain control--
pinning me, and impaling me in one breath.
I let out a soft sound as I take you in, and wrap one leg around you.
the cold water drives needles into our skin, as you thrust into me, over and over...
both of us reaching the peak at the same time,
letting out primal cries together.
we slide into the tub and one of our toes knocks the plug into place and another turns the flow of water from shower head to tub faucet.
we snuggle close in a pool of cool, clear water, my hand tracing your pecs, your hand resting on the curve of my ass.

have a fantastic weekend
go outside
have sex
...but not in that order...
and, most importantly, do something nice for the one you love--
without motive.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

The sun is a bitch--

son of a bitch...?
eh, makes me bitchy, at least.
it's back today, but I'm sure it'll get its tender little feelings hurt and run away soon.
snivelling little bastard.
you can eat my ass.
Why don't you go somewhere you'll be appreciated, like Alaska, or Siberia.
I am so sick of this break up and make up game,
that I am actually considering shacking up with ole cloudy-skies.
toss me a bottle of prozac and an umbrella, and we'll be happily ever after, baby!

so, yes, it's a beautiful day.
but the thunderstorms will be back tomorrow,
and the campground we chose is at the top of the highest mountain in this range,
and is still covered in snow.
50 degree weather, snow, thunderstorms?
camping is cancelled.
I'm disappointed, but not surprised.

and do NOT get me started on my MISSED girl's night last ngiht.
ok, do get me started.
hubby: If you stay home, I'll give you a foot massage, a back massage, all the orgasms you can take, anyway you want 'em. I'll watch the kids, you get to pick the movie, and I'll take care of dinner.
compelling arguement, eh?
(that was basically verbatim)
He persuaded me--
to cancel on friends at the last minute for a luxurious evening with him.
I should have known it was too good to be true, even if he did have good intentions...
his idea of watching the kids was to get them a movie, too,
only they weren't in the mood for a movie.
HE, on the other hand, fell asleep within 30 minutes of getting back from the movie store.
leaving me to manage sugar-crazed demons children for the next 4 damn hours because they had a stupid fucking late nap.
thanks for .

my head hurts.

I need......
I need it to be next weekend, right now.
next friday, we head to Vegas, sans les enfants.

oh, and I have a flat tire, so I'm not going anywhere today.
some cyclist who was next to me at a stop light pointed it out.
fortunately I was only 2 blocks from home, so I just kept driving.
who knows how long it's been flat, even.

I think I should take a deep breath, hit "delete post" and start over, fresh.
but I'm not gonna.
I might as well get all the venom out now, here.

Ok, I think that might be enough of a rant/tantrum for today.
a Rantrum!!!!
I fucking love it!
a new word was created, so it was worth it.
and I'm feeling better...

I really need to get out of this funk, though.
My bursts of creativity are so far apart...
they're like gas stations on a lonely highway, to the outter most tip of some low-population state.
I want to visit every state--and in each state I want to experience towns, cities, summer and winter.
when I first met my husband, I remember asking him if we could spend the next 50 years living in each state for a year.
what I didn't realize at the time, was that he had already spent his whole life moving to a new place every year.
He was as eager to be stationary as I was to purchase some.
I keep reading over the Sudy Abroad section of my university's catalog...
not gonna happen.
but, boy would it be great.
I guess I have a mutated strain of the Peter Pan Virus.
I'll live.
there's a cure, I think.
it's my fingers, plus one keyboard, and a dash of imagination.
I'll write my way out of it, if only I can have some quiet for long enough to compose a sentence...

The last thing I want is for anyone to read here today and leave feeling even 1% less
happy than when they arrived, so I guess I'll have to flash you.
just kidding.

dammit, i thought today was Friday.
I guess I can't write a fantasy Friday, then, can I?
I might, though...for tomorrow...
give MYSELF a kick in the pants.

but really, have a great day.
and ignore my moods, they'll change shortly anyway!!!!
(ha! I crack myself up!)

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

I'm giggling...

over all sorts of things.
firstly, the sight of my husband
washing the taste/smell/stickiness
of meeeeeee
off his hands before returning to a client to finish an install.

also, that orgasm mine field I just crossed was brutal.
in a fucking great way, of course.

and we finished planning our Vegas weekend--
gonna see some shows.
but not this one
or this one.
I thought we should either see both, or neither...
we chose neither.
we're like, so above such things.
besides, Zumanity's way hotter.

today was a day of good workout, baaaaad diet.
and a bizarre little shopping trip,
with a bizarre little friend of mine,
and a bizarre little friend of hers.
ok, maybe there was far less bizarreness going on, but it felt good to write that.
I was on a roll--
but not a dinner roll,
and not a toilet paper roll,
and certainly not an acting role.
although, as I've mentioned before, I realllly think I should be an actor.
because my face shows emotions very clearly, and I have (er...correction, had) a good memory.

I'd like to know where the fucking bloody hell the sun has gone.
oh yeah, it came back!
but that was after I had given up hope.
but wait--
I had a good reason.
after the gym, I wanted to take a bath and read my book.
so I got the boys settled in their room--
one playing with his train set,
the other completing word games on the computer.
as soon as I turned on the water--
they both came running, stripping along the way.
I insisted that this was mommy's time to have a bath, and they could not join me.
I ran them a bath in their (damn) bathroom.
they got in.
I got in mine.
I sighed...
picked up my book, found the book mark and-----
upon investigation,
there was NO cause for such noise.
their bath toys were strewn across the floor, leaving puddles and I still don't know what the screaming was about.
so that was the end of their bath.
so what the hell was my point?
cuz I did have one, and it wasn't the bath tangent.
oh yeah--
that's what ruined my mood.
so after the bath I couldn't stand the thought of putting on anything but PJs.
so we ordered pizza and watched silly 80s movies and Full House.
they were rapt, by the way.
wrapped? (in blankets)
rapped? (on the noggin)
warped? (sense of humor)

so due to this weather
and my flipped upside-down-even-if-it-was-in-good-ways life
and other such things--
something inside me changed.
I don't know when, exactly.
and I don't know why--not really.
but i've been fighting against it,
trying to outsmart it.
trying to outmanuever it.
trying to...
get back, get back, get back to where I once belonged.
(go beatles)
when I think about (you, I don't touch myself) this,
I remember how I used to feel when I wrote certain things,
and it's just different now.
but I'm cool.
not "as a cucumber", because they say you should keep them in water,
in the fridge, and frankly, I would not stay as crisp as they do, but
I, instead, would get prune-alicious.
Mom? do cucumbers come from pickles?
no...pickles come from cucumbers, baby bear.
and this is the fast track back to feeling up like myself...

hi, my name is Lisa.
and I'm a _________-aholic.
doesn't matter which addiction.
just ask Chuck.
or Ed.
but don't ask Brad, cuz he's just an alter ego, and they're kinda smarmy.
oh, I'd still do him,
(but only cuz his brother looks like you.)
nah, your brother looks like him.
forget all that.
you're my romeo, (call me juliet)
my cowboy on a steel horse, (i'll call you jon bon)
my heart beating from the world created by the ink on your skin
your breath reaching my ear over the oceans mountains plains deserts--
my deck of cliches,
shuffled and held above my head, ready to drop--
fingers releasing them to tumble over my naked body,
their smooth coolness reminding me that you only live in my head.

so once upon a time there was a girl who preferred to write bloggy posts at night.
her husband needs to get busy buying her a laptop, so that they can sit in bed together and be super huge nerds with their laptops.

if you have any juice, please share it with me, as I am painfully dehydrated.
ok, that's a lie, and I wouldn't drink juice if I was dehydrated.
nor soda.
nor gatorade.
water and only water.
for I loveth the water and the water loveth me.
and I swear to god, jesus, and their red headed step child, that I did NOT take any drugs of any sort today.
thank you, goodbye.

so post-coital posting is a good idea.
or at least it produces strange and exotic things.
from the girl next door.
how'd she get in here???
did I mention the 20 year old across the street likes to wash his truck a lot?
with his shirt off?
he tinkers with his dirt bikes, too.
I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm hotter than I am.
just like you guys.
which is just how I like it.
if you survived this, leave a comment...

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

A perfect day for a song--

well, ok, so every day is a perfect day for a song...
a perfect day for a thousand songs,
for a mix tape labelled "Fuzzy Mix" in the pocket of a snowboarder from Vermont 10 years ago...
but what I really meant, was that the weather here is as fucked up as your windshield after a close encounter of the Moose kind...
it's barely in the 60s, and raining, raining, raining.
I found a fucking awesome radio station on napster, though--
the One Hit Wonder station.
so far, I've heard "Come on Eileen", "Buffalo Stance", and "Joey".
if you can name all those artists without looking them up,
I won't give you a prize, but you'll feel super good about yourself.
where the hell was I?
oh yes, the weather.
the clouds are so low, so pregnant with rain, that they hang all the way to the foothills--
bye bye mountains.
I love looking at the different layers and types of clouds--
I never really thought about how beautiful they could be,
until I moved away from the rain capital of the world,
to a place where 70% of the year the skies are endlessly blue...
anyway, this spring has been particularly wet and stubborn--
it's refusing to give up its foothold and let the hot dry air take over.
so, the other day I wrote a little something about that,
and Bud--
a fantastic singer and songwriter--
found inspiration in that passage and wrote a song!!
he sent me the first draft,
which you will find a little further down in this post.
I am beyond excited about this.
I have always had a strong connection to music--
particularly lyrics, but I have such a poor grasp of rhythm and harmony myself that I have never actually attempted to write a song--
and probably would never attempt it.
so, whether this song ever gets sung or not, I'm in love with it
and will probably begin singing it in my car, shower, and anywhere else I'm alone!

Cruel In Utah
Lisa Anderson and Bud Buckley

Instead of you, we had too much rain this spring
And everybody else felt as shifty as I had been
People didn’t know then what it would bring
I was sure it wasn’t you, I’d never feel you skin again

‘Cause it’s not just the weather that’s cruel in Utah
There’s loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

The desert summer rushed in, abrupt and breathless
Adjusted its skirt and wiped smudged lipstick off its cheek
Then breathed down on us hard enough to cause a death wish
The desert’s no place for the meek

‘Cause it’s not just the weather that’s cruel in Utah
There’s loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

With the thunderstorms of September the rain restarted
But instead of spring’s shiftiness there was seething rage
The full moon made us crazy and I was more than broken hearted
And everything unnatural took the stage

Tall slender women swayed in the wind like trees
their skirts and jewelry sounding like dried leaves
Short roundish men all became still and gray
Moss growing on their shady side in the heat of the day
Children burst into flames when tears used to do just fine
As their pets ran off seeking fine cigars, expensive wine

I’m gonna grab a bolt of lightning with my bare feet in the mud
It’ll give me a little shock, I’ll give it a little tug
Roll it into a little ball and stuff it in my pocket
Ride the lightning into the storm, a sorry loveless rocket

‘Cause it’s not just the weather that’s cruel in Utah
There’s loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

pretty cool, eh?
I suppose that could just be my ego talking...
but I love the way someone else could make my images flow so well with their own.
all mixed together like a bowl of cookie dough...
er, maybe I'm just getting distracted by the diet...

really and truly, have a great day--
oh there's my doorbell!!

Monday, June 06, 2005

I didn't exactly go into the desert on a horse with no name,

but it WAS a strange motherfuckin weekend.
there were good times, fondue, and, headlining--clusterfucks.
the fondue party was great--
the prudish hostess even got drunk enough to try to kiss my husband.
it was hilarious, to me, because I know two things:
one, she's just kinda like that when she's really drunk, and
two, it would just freak him out if she tried.
so, I warned her of that, and sent her out to the patio where her husband and mine were smoking,
and she came back in and reported that I was right.
i thought it was funny, but the other couples seemed a little shocked.
fucking grownups.

so then there was talk of spending the next day on the boat.
wave runners, water skiis--
so, against my better judgement,
we crashed in the guest room.
mr. husband was wasted, plastered, drunk-as-a-skunk.
it was HIS idea to stay.
I was completely sober,
and really wanted to drive home.
but no, we had to do what he said.
so, we did.
his drunkeness caused severe hiccups,
which proved to be a great source of irritation for me.
he is a large man.
we were on a small(er than ours) bed.
each spasm of the sternum caused the whole bed to quake--
and slapped me out of my drowse with fervor.
He was sleeping.
finally I got him to wake up and drink some water,
and they stopped.
good thing, too, cuz I am not above smothering someone just so I can sleep.
I got up at 8 and showered, so that I would be ready to go at 8:20, as planned...
the people with the boat didn't call until almost 10.
and by the time we finally decided which lake to meet at, and estimated the time it would take to get there...
we realized it was too late for us to go if we wanted to be on time to pick up the kids.

bottom line?
yesterday sucked ass.
in fact, it sucked so hard, I'm pretty sure it left bruises.
the clusterfucks are too numerous and too complex to detail here,
but trust me--
it was all my husband's fault.
poor guy.

and today...
today is rainy and grey,
but I'm smiling.
eh, something like that Chili's ad campaign about ribs.

and I may or may not have skipped the gym today,
but if I did--
and I'm not confessing ANYTHING--
if I did...
it was only because my kids needed a nap...
dammit, I suck.
(and swallow)
I'm freezing damn cold,
but will that stop me from eating some low carb peanut butter cup ice cream??
hell no.
this girl has priorities.
...I may have a really poor grasp of the preferred hierarchy there,
but I make my own rules.
and one of 'em is:
ice cream before comfort.

since I haven't gotten around to answering the last few comments from yesterday,
and also since there were quite a few fantastic topics covered...
I'll answer them here.

Orange: I'm really not at liberty to discuss such things, but what I can say is this: Carefree are my faves and I've had no stubble issues as yet. ahem. how 'bout them Red Sox??

yes, whitey, yes it might just want back out of the room and close the door quietly--then run like hell.

Kiki: check! ...and, yum.

dammit, Walker, that's hardly the point! reading it at all was a bad idea! 16 hours, eh?? Mine only took about an hour...I don't want to think about that kind of pain, thank you very much.

I'm not sure I dare answer this in public, Kat...I never clean the thing. I can blow (and frankly, pick) around it.

you are truly an enigma, Mona! Just waxing my EYEBROWS is enough of a taste of the pain that would be encountered in the southern hemisphere, and I want no part of it! ...getting an image of that brazilian and it's making me blush, though...

Bud: check. and....I know I said so already, but I'm really excited about this--like to a dorky degree, so...many thanks. and, you guys? I'll post the lyrics tomorrow--it rocks!

ok, that's it then.
I think this post has exceeded the limits of time and space for today.
and that's all I can really hope for...

bon soir--

Friday, June 03, 2005

I will wish upon the star in my nose--

damn, that sounds funk-ay.
it's not IN my nose, in the traditional sense.
it's in the hole
punched by the tool
used by the girl
who worked at the tattoo parlor
who I paid
to put it there.
so it's in my nose, but not UP my nose.
...and there are no rubber hoses involved.
at all.
except for the one I would use to water my garden if,
a.) I had a garden, and
b.) I had no automatic sprinkling system.

wow, that sure spiralled out of control quickly, didn't it??
what I was going to say was this:
I wish
that you lived next door,
so I could walk over
and knock on your door
until you answered,
and if you didn't answer,
I would find a window to climb through
and I would walk up to you
and ask you





but I'm not
so I can't,
and I won't.
even though I would if I could.

my hair looks great today.
minus the brownish ash-blonde-ish roots.
that are at least an inch long.
I love that my hair grows fast,
but I'm far too lazy and/or un-focused for such things as dyeing one's hair every 4 weeks.
yes, it grows an inch a month.
stupid fucking hair.
why couldn't you have just grown black??
it would have been far more convenient,
and as it turns out, I look much better this way.
stupid mother nature.
or genetics.

oh, and while we're on the subject of "my life in the bathroom"--
(no, not like that!)
well, kinda like that...
I'm a huge fan of the Nair line of products,
for certain specific needs...
but today's venture did not really go so well.
there are rogue patches of hair that just don't appear to have been affected.
I think I didn't leave it on long enough,
but since I don't have a fucking TIMER in my bathroom,
(nor the foresight to bring one from the kitchen before slathering the shit on...)
it's a guesswork thing, and I'd rather go too little than too long,
so I must have undershot the mark.

am I really talking about this???
in public???

well, at least it's friday.
so hopefully no one will read it...

My favorite things today have nothing to do with kittens

or roses, or string.
no, today my favorite things are colored with sarcasm.
like, for example:
one of my favorite things is when the husband comes home early
(awww...isn't that sweet?)
he came home early and spent the next 3 hours on the phone.
while I sat next to him,
trying to read the lips of the cast of Reno 911--
but finding most of it hilarious even without dialogue.
while it's true that I could have gone down to the living room and watched it,
or even returned to my sacred shrine here at my desk,
I just wanted to be there when he got off the phone.*
but alas,
it was not to be.
one of his 5 brothers flew in unexpectedly
(yes, his arms were tired)
so hubby had to scurry off to watch the NBA finals at another brother's house,
which I totally understand and fully supported.
but still.
another of my favorite things is when my kids think they're too good for a nap.
so, basically this means they refuse to go to sleep at a decent time of day for a nap,
and then voluntarily go to bed around 4 or 5 or some other hideously late time and then are up half the night.
so anyway.
lots of super great non-kitteny stuff to love today.

* yes I know that sounds super cheesy, but you have no idea how much time I spend alone...alone with 2 preschoolers--it ain't pretty.

I am also quite distressed about the incident involving the VO5 hot oil treatment of my inner arm,
in which I also splattered an inordinate amount of said oil on my new,
pictured below, BLOGGER T-shirt.
and it wasn't so much a hair treatment as me, trying to cook some damned MEAT.

I just ordered my "I suck, but at least I'm good at it" tank top,
so I'll be sporting that for a nice braless pic as soon as I get it.

woo hoo.
yes, I'm containing my enthusiasm.
curbing it, even.

I watched Bo Bice on The Daily Show--
with sound, praise the lord--
and he mentioned the website of his band,
so of course I bolted from my perch and tumbled down the stairs
(hey, my legs are getting more and more sore with every passing hour, back off)
to the puter.
there are songs.
and an email address.
I clicked the "email bo" link, and just sat there,
looking at the empty page in my Microsoft Outlook. heart thudding...
a frighteningly cheesy grin on my face.
and clicked on the little 'x' in the corner.
nothing to say?
more like fear of sounding like an obsessed lunatic.
all i really want is for him to come here,
and read my words,
and fall in love wtih me,
write songs for me,
beg me to leave my husband,
and whisk me away to whatever crazy church he belongs to for a sexy hippie wedding.
I don't think that's asking for much, really...
in fact, I'm fairly certain it'll happen if ONLY he could somehow be shown the way...
yes, I'm laughing at this.
I sure hope you are.
I realllly want to hang out with all of you.
just sit around in a dark-ish pub, talking through pitcher after pitcher of beer--
but not so much we get too drunk to remember the evening.
lots of pictures.
lots of hugging.
soooo much laughing.
everyone on my sidebar is cordially invited.
(except Chaz...
because I will never cheat on my husband,
and that is in direct conflict with me being in the same room/state/country as Chaz.
but maybe he could attend via satellite...)
maybe someday my dream of a bloggers party will come to pass...
but there are so many of us, and the web of our connections is vast,
our physical locations so diverse.
ah well.
at least we'll always have the internet, right?

you know, I was thinking about money earlier today.
pondering a little question:
why is having extra/plenty of money great?
so that you can do the things you want to do.
am I right?
well, true, it's different for everybody, but I would say that's probably a general consensus, an average answer.
I don't know.
for me, the idea of having money so I can buy more "stuff" isn't terribly appealing.
my "stuff" list ends at having a nice, cherried out Sting Ray
but from there, I have big dreams.
travel, mostly.
weekly massages,
a personal assistant to make sure I stay organized...
and I'd be all set.
what about you?
what would you guys do with unlimited-type of funding?

16 days til my birthday.
I feel totally unprepared, suddenly.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

"Thursday will begin..."

the first line of a song, that makes me smile every time.

I have now saved two posts as drafts--
unsuitable for publishing.
because they're so full of whine, I think you'd all end up drunk--
and since most of you are at work,
this could lead to being fired,
and I would really fucking hate to have that on my conscience.
I'm acting like a 3 year old pumped full of sugar and taken toy shopping--
for another kid's present.
yeah, that's not pretty.

I think being drunk RIGHT THE FUCK NOW would improve my mood just a hair.
either that, or I would discover that I can be a violent drunk,
and I would go find someone who looks like...someone...and beat the shit out of him.
or make out with a girl.
...but not violently.

I am extremely excited for the fondu and martini party on saturday.
sometimes being a grown-up kicks ass, mothafuckas!
and no, I don't intend to make out with a girl (again) anytime soon.
I just said that to fuck with you.
which also sounds fun...
tie you to a chair, and sit on your lap?
yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?
or maybe that's just me.
I feel like running to the top of the closest mountain (pick one)
and screaming-------
watching the sound waves roll across the sky, eastward.
they would be jagged and electric.
as am I.

do not ignore me.
it hurts so much...
I need you, even though I know I shouldn't.
I've come as close to begging as I'm going to,
and soon I will retreat.

hell, maybe I should just give in and write some damn tortured-soul song for evanescence to sing.
I'm such a tard.
someone fucking kick me in the neck, wouldja?
(dammit, I hope Becky doesn't read this, because she's actually close enough to do it. and quite possibly still mad enough, since I corrected her spelling...)

so much for ending on a high note.
oh, I did cross the 100,000 hits line,
but I'm not taking it seriously, since that isn't a true reflection of my readers.
I'm sure everyone gets their google hits and their repeat hits,
but I am fairly sure I get more than the average amount of non-hit hits.
oh well.
100,000 still rocks.
and rolls.
ted nugent or somebody...

and now the kids are whining...gee, i wonder where they learned it???
I'll go have lunch, work out, and come back with a smile--
you guys either have a good day or give a good day, but don't do both.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

I wasn't kidding when I said Utah is HELL

cuz today I met the Devil himself,
and he had a boyish face and a spike-tailed whip.
a rather soothing bedside manner, when it comes to a puking girl in a basketball court, though...
ok, maybe I should back up.
so my trainer is quitting or something, and turned all of his clients over to this other guy.
looks harmless enough.
so he asks, "what do you want to do today?"
I shrug, "Legs"
holy mother of god--
if I had only known what was in store for me...!!
let's just say you guys can once again be assured that I love you
(and not just as friends...)
because I crawled down a flight of stairs just to post this harrowing tale.
ok, partly becaue I dialed audioblogger and got no response,
and partly because I have a date with destiny,
or my instant messenger--one of the two.
this boy worked me over like a veteran whore--
(does that mean she only takes veterans as johns, or that she's been doing it...uh...huhuh, doing it for a really long time??)
he worked me like a 6 year old sewing wal-mart fashions in a sweat shop.
my head grew heavy and my sight grew dim,
but he didn't let me stop for the night
(apparently we were not at the Hotel California, as I had assumed...)
he pushed and pushed.
my legs felt like jello,
but still I worked.
the last exercise was to stand next to the wall, and squat so that my thighs were parralel with the floor, and my back was braced against the wall.
and just....
sit there.
for nearly 2 minutes, which TRUST ME, MOTHERFUCKERS, is a long damn time to sit in an air chair.
(sounds way cuter than it is, take my word there, as well)
so just before the 2 minutes were up, my legs decided it was time to find a REAL god damn chair--and slid slowly out from under me.
I giggled, and he said "great job! the legs tell you when you're done, really."
thanks, fucker.
if I had known THAT, I would have faked it a little sooner.
so then he said "one more set and we're done for the day."
ex-fuckin-cuse me????
so, I stood, and the room did something a little unexpected,
there were little black clouds flickering all around...
I said, "I feel like I'm going to puke."
Satan said, "yeah, a lot of people say that when we do legs. I usually do, too...."
and blah blah blah, on and on.
I don't think he stopped talking until the room stopped spinning--
which brings up a good point: maybe his voice was making the room spin....hmmm...
so I sat down on a little bench
which I chose for its proximity to the waste basket...
I closed my eyes and listened to the voice of God's balancer in the universe,
and then.
I puked.
the smallest little hurling I have ever done.
but I felt waaaaaaaaaaay better.
that is, until I got on the stationary bike.
that lasted precisely 3 minutes and 42 seconds.
driving home was interesting,
as keeping pressure on the brake pedal for an entire red light was nearly impossible...
and so now, here I am.
after taking the first step and my legs collapsing under me,
I scooted down here on my butt.
I may have to crawl back up,
but it's worth it.
I'm going to be hot.
....yes, like as in hell.
happy hump day, leg humpers.