I just noticed Blogge's post counter is working again--
I'm at 996.
I really want to do something special to celebrate 1000 posts,
but how much do you want to bet I won't notice when it happens?
christ a'mighty.
maybe I could leave a note for myself...
write it on my hand or something.
hell, I'll write it on my tits, then we'll all remember!!
ha.
for anyone who's interested, Annapolis is a beautiful city with lots of great historical sites and sounds and smells...
ok, maybe just sites.
I'm starving at the moment, so I'm not sure why I thought it would be a great idea to blog...
lisa hungry = brain dead.
head o' mush
growling in stomach and throat.
but I had a moment, and I thought of you guys.
Ok, some of you...
naked.
others of you, I still thought of, but mostly I thought of what it might taste like to lick salt from your wrists before shooting tequila, and suck a lemon you might be holding in your teeth, after the fiery liquid has seared my throat.
and the naked thing.
Also, I am not sure why I thought I would be doing all sorts of writing on this trip.
I'm staying with my sister and her two-year-old (her husband's away this week) in their beautiful new house, and having such a grand time of all varieties of relaxation and entertainment, that I haven't had even a second that I would choose to write in.
bah.
so when will I get to write?????
fuckers.
who?
the voices in my head--they're fuckers.
and so are you guys.
anyway, hope you're all having fun, maybe I'll pop in later.
happy summer to you--
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Vacation status: active
yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
fuckin
hawwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!
I'm here.
I'm not queer, but you should get used to me anyway.
er, no.
I'm here, as in, in Maryland.
To anyone who wondered,
it's EXACTLY like Maine.
In fact, I'm sort of thinking it's the same place.
only with crabs instead of lobsters.
and a few extra letters.
anywho, it's gorgeous, and I feel wonderful.
we spent today at the beach,
toes in sand, jellyfish dancing close.
so elegant and slow.
I missed a spot with the sunscreen, so I have a splotch of sunburnage,
but no big whoop.
there are too many great books in this house for me to not start reading at least one of them while I'm here--
and somehow i feel like blaming this on Mona...
I call it "Mona's Reading Multiple Books in Unison Affliction."
Or MRMBUA for short.
ok, maybe I'll work on a catchier name.
aw, shit.
I missed my face, too.
red.
oh well.
that's all for now.
I'm going to go vacate.
I might be back to read some of y'all in a bit, when the cutest damn 2 year old in the world goes to sleep.
hasta.
fuckin
hawwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!
I'm here.
I'm not queer, but you should get used to me anyway.
er, no.
I'm here, as in, in Maryland.
To anyone who wondered,
it's EXACTLY like Maine.
In fact, I'm sort of thinking it's the same place.
only with crabs instead of lobsters.
and a few extra letters.
anywho, it's gorgeous, and I feel wonderful.
we spent today at the beach,
toes in sand, jellyfish dancing close.
so elegant and slow.
I missed a spot with the sunscreen, so I have a splotch of sunburnage,
but no big whoop.
there are too many great books in this house for me to not start reading at least one of them while I'm here--
and somehow i feel like blaming this on Mona...
I call it "Mona's Reading Multiple Books in Unison Affliction."
Or MRMBUA for short.
ok, maybe I'll work on a catchier name.
aw, shit.
I missed my face, too.
red.
oh well.
that's all for now.
I'm going to go vacate.
I might be back to read some of y'all in a bit, when the cutest damn 2 year old in the world goes to sleep.
hasta.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Guest Blog by Bud Buckley for Boredhousewife
Okay, I've talked about it long enough. I need some input now. Lisa is a beautiful writer. I spotted some lovely images in her blog and asked her permission to adapt it to a lyric. I've reprinted what I did below. I hope to work like this again with Lisa and a few others I've spotted on her blogroll. These are two links for you to listen to of where this song is in production SO FAR. I did minimal production to them. One guitar take and one vocal with a punch-in on the bridge. A tiny little bit of delay on the vocal. A work tape is just a sketch book. So this will evolve into something way better.
I hope you'll give me some feedback on what you think of this piece so far.
Click Here for Hi-Fi
Click Here for Lo-Fi (dial-up)
CRUEL IN UTAH copyright 2005 by 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
Chorus:
'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 it's skirt and wiped smudged lipstick off it's 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
Bridge
Tall slender women swayed in the wind like trees
Their skirts and jewelry sounding like dried leaves
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
I hope you'll give me some feedback on what you think of this piece so far.
Click Here for Hi-Fi
Click Here for Lo-Fi (dial-up)
CRUEL IN UTAH copyright 2005 by 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
Chorus:
'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 it's skirt and wiped smudged lipstick off it's 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
Bridge
Tall slender women swayed in the wind like trees
Their skirts and jewelry sounding like dried leaves
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
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
T.g.I.T. Thank God It's Tuesday, or TIT (the g is silent)
not so much emphasis on size, here.
just...lack o' bra.
100% Irish linen, thrown over my swimsuit.
swimsuit gone.
just shorts and this.
hair drying in springs and waves
cheeks glowing with sun's kisses
wanting to feel strong hands pushing that shirt up
buttons popping
lips on neck
shorts shimmied off
skin against skin
fast and hushed--
in a walk-in closet or a small bathroom,
as voices from the rest of the immediate world lay muffled outside our panting groping haven.
these are the times when I wish I could walk far enough, wish hard enough--
and find a zipper, haphazardly sewn across the horizon.
I could open it and step through,
finding a patch of time, just waiting to be used.
I would step outside my own reality and make adventures,
independent of this life--
not before, not after.
just...separate.
I would find you, and share it with you.
have a fantastically beautiful day--
and don't mind me, I'll just be imagining the finer details of that little fantasy-tangent from above...
Monday, July 25, 2005
A hole new view
yes, I used the wrong word on pupose.
for visual effect.
so that you would imagine a hole in my wall giving me a new view.
which is entirely incorrect.
but still, a great image.
I did, however, move my desk/computer up to the main floor.
It's kind of exciting...
of course, there's the tv in my direct peripheral vision
(nice contradiction, Lisa)
but that's all I can think of for negatives right now.
positives?
the tv is in my direct peripheral vision,
the kitchen is mere yards away, rather than a flight of stairs,
(that's for the kids and their constant need for snacks)
and it's not all dark and spooky/lonely.
I feel like a human again.
(I still don't look like one, but that's to be expected)
so.
I had an idea for a story today, while driving, and--
get this--
I actually remembered it!!!!
I know!!!
of course, it'll probably prove my theory that I only forget stuff that's shit to begin with.
we'll see.
Sponge Bob and his Squarepants are waaaay too distracting.
bah.
this happens every time I change locations...
I'm easily distracted, I guess.
jesus.
why is it that my kids never watch tv.
except.
when I want to have no tv on????
gaaaaah.
that damn trainer broke my back today.
(god love 'im.)
anyone interested in tossing a massage my way?
JERRY!!!
git yer ass to Utah.
pronto.
and maybe I'll give YOU the "happy ending" or whatever it's called when the massage therapist is actually a prostitute.
hee.
HAW!
(god that was a great show...)
ok, I got nothin'.
I'm just so totally super psyched to have new environs that I had to share it with y'all.
yes, it's almost Tuesday...
for visual effect.
so that you would imagine a hole in my wall giving me a new view.
which is entirely incorrect.
but still, a great image.
I did, however, move my desk/computer up to the main floor.
It's kind of exciting...
of course, there's the tv in my direct peripheral vision
(nice contradiction, Lisa)
but that's all I can think of for negatives right now.
positives?
the tv is in my direct peripheral vision,
the kitchen is mere yards away, rather than a flight of stairs,
(that's for the kids and their constant need for snacks)
and it's not all dark and spooky/lonely.
I feel like a human again.
(I still don't look like one, but that's to be expected)
so.
I had an idea for a story today, while driving, and--
get this--
I actually remembered it!!!!
I know!!!
of course, it'll probably prove my theory that I only forget stuff that's shit to begin with.
we'll see.
Sponge Bob and his Squarepants are waaaay too distracting.
bah.
this happens every time I change locations...
I'm easily distracted, I guess.
jesus.
why is it that my kids never watch tv.
except.
when I want to have no tv on????
gaaaaah.
that damn trainer broke my back today.
(god love 'im.)
anyone interested in tossing a massage my way?
JERRY!!!
git yer ass to Utah.
pronto.
and maybe I'll give YOU the "happy ending" or whatever it's called when the massage therapist is actually a prostitute.
hee.
HAW!
(god that was a great show...)
ok, I got nothin'.
I'm just so totally super psyched to have new environs that I had to share it with y'all.
yes, it's almost Tuesday...
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Chaos
Loud and disorienting,
closing in on me with a throbbing so loud it can be felt--
pierced with high-pitched sounds and all manner of percussion.
The colors and smells overwhlem.
I am drowning.
Ok, fine, it's just the 9 year old whipping the 5 year olds into a frenzy of freeze tag or cops and robbers or dodgeball--
probably all three.
This week, construction starts on our basement.
this will bring my domain to over 3000 square feet.
Does anyone know how much of my precious blog time will be spent CLEANING????
heh.
actually, the best part of it all is that I'll have an office.
with a door.
that locks.
Kids?
what kids?
I don't have any kids.
Just homework and a muse.
I am really excited, though not entirely hopeful that it'll be finished anytime soon.
We're subcontracting it all ourselves...
ick.
but at least the sod will for sure be laid on Thursday, and the fence up soon after.
I'm sure you're all riveted.
blah blah blah this is my life blah blah blah get used to it blah blah FUCKING blah.
vanilla ice cream, anyone?
how about a white picket fence?
lobotomy?
no?
no takers?
are ya sure?
okee dokeeeee, your choice, man.
me, I'm looking for a rabbit hole.
a worm hole.
a black hole...I wish I dared to leap into one.
I bet that would be fucking great.
someday, I will hold this world in my outstretched hand.
I will look at it lovingly, bend to kiss it, then crumple it up like a mis-folded paper airplane.
buh bye, suckers!
then I will swim through the stars and find a new world.
one where I will be the goddess of all creation.
aw, shit, I let my god complex show again--
(note to self: no more bending over in mini skirts.)
I really think it's grand
(like being in a band)
that I am crazy--
without being crazy.
I'm so normal in person, without being boring.
fuck you, I'm not either!!!
although, I inherited from my father a sporadic inability to curtail a train of thought--
ranting, I suppose it's called...
where in the hell does this shit come from?
cerebral cortex, possibly.
good thing I skipped the lobotomy.
If I'm this weird, stone cold sober on a Sunday morning,
wouldn't it be fun to see what I'm like on acid?
I vote yes.
I am dehydrated.
ask my husband's penis why.
p.s. Tuesday might be the last day I post this week, but I doubt it.
I'm going to be out of town, but I'm so pathetically addicted to this bloggerific world that I will probably still post almost every day.
but...
maybe it would be fun to have guest posters?
you know, 11X16 prints rolled up in a tube to hang on teenager's walls...?
bah.
me and my inability to let even the most pathetic word play slide...
ones who guest post.
persons who post here as guests.
maybe it's the coffee...
if you're interested in a large picture of yourself, please let me know.
guest posters could be fun.
especially if they post their boobies.
amen.
Happy Fucking Pioneer Day, Polygamist wannabes!!
I think you should all marry someone cuz "god told ya to", in honor of the divine history of this day.
thank you.
caffeinated housewife, out.
closing in on me with a throbbing so loud it can be felt--
pierced with high-pitched sounds and all manner of percussion.
The colors and smells overwhlem.
I am drowning.
Ok, fine, it's just the 9 year old whipping the 5 year olds into a frenzy of freeze tag or cops and robbers or dodgeball--
probably all three.
This week, construction starts on our basement.
this will bring my domain to over 3000 square feet.
Does anyone know how much of my precious blog time will be spent CLEANING????
heh.
actually, the best part of it all is that I'll have an office.
with a door.
that locks.
Kids?
what kids?
I don't have any kids.
Just homework and a muse.
I am really excited, though not entirely hopeful that it'll be finished anytime soon.
We're subcontracting it all ourselves...
ick.
but at least the sod will for sure be laid on Thursday, and the fence up soon after.
I'm sure you're all riveted.
blah blah blah this is my life blah blah blah get used to it blah blah FUCKING blah.
vanilla ice cream, anyone?
how about a white picket fence?
lobotomy?
no?
no takers?
are ya sure?
okee dokeeeee, your choice, man.
me, I'm looking for a rabbit hole.
a worm hole.
a black hole...I wish I dared to leap into one.
I bet that would be fucking great.
someday, I will hold this world in my outstretched hand.
I will look at it lovingly, bend to kiss it, then crumple it up like a mis-folded paper airplane.
buh bye, suckers!
then I will swim through the stars and find a new world.
one where I will be the goddess of all creation.
aw, shit, I let my god complex show again--
(note to self: no more bending over in mini skirts.)
I really think it's grand
(like being in a band)
that I am crazy--
without being crazy.
I'm so normal in person, without being boring.
fuck you, I'm not either!!!
although, I inherited from my father a sporadic inability to curtail a train of thought--
ranting, I suppose it's called...
where in the hell does this shit come from?
cerebral cortex, possibly.
good thing I skipped the lobotomy.
If I'm this weird, stone cold sober on a Sunday morning,
wouldn't it be fun to see what I'm like on acid?
I vote yes.
I am dehydrated.
ask my husband's penis why.
p.s. Tuesday might be the last day I post this week, but I doubt it.
I'm going to be out of town, but I'm so pathetically addicted to this bloggerific world that I will probably still post almost every day.
but...
maybe it would be fun to have guest posters?
you know, 11X16 prints rolled up in a tube to hang on teenager's walls...?
bah.
me and my inability to let even the most pathetic word play slide...
ones who guest post.
persons who post here as guests.
maybe it's the coffee...
if you're interested in a large picture of yourself, please let me know.
guest posters could be fun.
especially if they post their boobies.
amen.
Happy Fucking Pioneer Day, Polygamist wannabes!!
I think you should all marry someone cuz "god told ya to", in honor of the divine history of this day.
thank you.
caffeinated housewife, out.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Oh, I'm SPECIAL, alright.
I'm a special kind of special.
what a weird word...special. spess-ee-ul.
no, I haven't started drinking yet today.
but I did seriously consider it, about 20 minutes ago.
it was 11:53.
I just thought a beer would taste really good with my egg rolls...
and it would have. (picture me pouting with arms crossed)
but I'm a good girl.
mabye I'll spend tomorrow in a haze, instead.
since it's a holiday weekend here in the great state of Utah.
yes, I said, "great".
but you should know by now that my sarcasm faucet is usually turned on full blast...
We were supposed to be laying sod in our backyard tomorrow, but the guy in charge of ordering it did not do so.
Now, it'll probably arrive while I'm in DC, which means I'll get to come home to a mudless backyard!!!
and, more importantly, it also means I won't have to help.
nah, I wouldn't mind helping.
So I'm listening to my new Maroon 5 CD, and wondering how in the bloody hell it came to pass that I didn't know that one song was by them, nor do I know any of the other songs.
Oh, yeah!
It's because I live in a perpetual state of non-paying-attention to anything around me.
oh, and this song, too?
well.
I guess now I know who Maroon 5 is.
the Mr. bought it, not me.
I like it, though.
I keep forgetting to answer my comments today,
what with the kids, the phone, losing my first attempt, and a rather pressing email to answer...
so I'll do it here.
Lily--the PMS fairy sure does have bad breath--and B.O., and a nasty case of crotch rot!!!
Well, Spin, it's probably not best to banish bras entirely, anyway--just when you have either a good reason or the urge!! some days are just not bra friendly, and that's all there is to it--although I suspect you've discovered that with the whole panty thing...heee....and yes, I can understand the need to trim down in the whole underclothing department, after going through such torure!! Yeah, you'll dig the book.
Sorry, Nate, no Rack shots today! Aw, come on, as much as we hate that bitch, she's necessary...er..well...fine, WITCH HUNT!!!
Oh yikes, CatPants! That sounds horrible! Yeah, it's a lot easier to get away with skipping the bra when you're a housewife...a Senior Designer couldn't exactly get away with that sort of thing at the office!! (but I didn't read far enough to find out what you design...care to enlighten this lazy ass?)
heh. You mean "blogging about drinking", Jerry? hee. and I love it when you comment drunk!! it's at least 2.3 times more fun than sober... and I'm glad I got you laughing, too. :) if I can brighten your work day, it always makes me glow, you darling.
Becks? The uterus jokes are getting old--FAST. Cut it out...
(heeeeeeeeee)
Thanks, Sara! It was a cluster fuck and a half, but at least the PMS fairy didn't make anymore appearances. If you ever want to know a really great way to waste 100 miles, 100 hours, and 100 dollars, let me know. I've got it down to a smooth system.
well no wonder your blog world has been compromised, IA! It's all about the floss... miss you already...ya smarmy bah-stid.
heeeee...jeeez, I wish, Orange! I could save up for my tummy tuck...
I know, City Boy...we are ALL Sam Walton's bitches, it seems! Their prices are so good it's hard to rationalize going somewhere else. Why pay double for my Pantene, or Cogate??? I have actually heard that not wearing bras won't damage your breasts, unless they're extremely large, in most cases. It's strange how different each of our bodies is... Yeah, it is hard for most people to get out when the kids are young. We were lucky enough to have a pair of sisters less than a mile away who were good with the kids, picked up the house, and were ALWAYS available. We moved about 45 miles away from them in February, and haven't found any new sitters...we still go down there when we HAVE to go out...but it's much less free and fun than before.
Well, Chris, you're lucky to have family close, but it is too bad you don't have some teenage neighbors you could employ. You could always go door to door..."Hi, I live down the street, and I was just wondering if you have any teenage daughers?" it helps if you raise your eyebrows repeatedly at the end there, or wink. No, really!
and yes, last night went ok, but it was truly a cluster fuck of grand proportions.
It would have been worth it, if I had been able to enjoy some dinner conversation with the guests of honor, but really I had a pleasant time anyway.
and a Long Island Iced Tea.
aw...remember the good old days?
when Fridays meant this page would be dripping with pheremones and your own drool/other bodily fluids-that-I-don't-want-to-know-about?
maybe it's time for a flashback...
or a fastforward?
or a god damn TYPING CLASS?????
jesus H.
I think I have a brain seizure problem of some kind,
which is making my fingers hit the wrong keys.
ri-goddamn-diculous.
because today...
I'm preoccupied with thoughts of a beach, on a dark summer night.
one fat white moon grinning down at us from the blackness.
water gently lapping at sand.
we laugh, I dare you.
you dare me back.
we race--
my clothes come off first, but you make it under the water first--
I chicken out, after getting in up to my waist.
you drag an arm through the water, drenching me with the wave you create,
just before tackling me and pulling me under with you.
choking and laughing, I burst out of the water, thoughts of revenge flying fast from my mind as I blink away water and focus on your face...
we smile at each other, as the quiet fades back in around us.
I step toward you, my heart racing.
That dare was smooth... as I take one more step toward you.
You almost step away, doubting my motives.
The playful sparkle has gone from my eye and has been replaced with a dull shine of pure lust.
As I pull your head toward mine, your arms circle me and draw me closer,
the distance between our lips now a memory, as our tongues dance and probe, your lips so soft on mine.
our bodies pressing together creates an unusual kind of heat, in the cold water.
as your lips move down my neck, and across my shoulder, I draw a ragged breath, impatient...
you bend to my breasts, taking them gently in your hands and mouth--
licking, nibbling, rubbing...
I start slowly backing out of the water, pulling you with me, unable to wait.
we land on the pile of our clothes, my legs wrapping tightly around you, hips raising to meet you.
Sorry to end so abruptly...I'm sort of not writing explicit stuff on here anymore...
there are a few of that sort in my archives, though, if you're interested.
heh.
what a weird word...special. spess-ee-ul.
no, I haven't started drinking yet today.
but I did seriously consider it, about 20 minutes ago.
it was 11:53.
I just thought a beer would taste really good with my egg rolls...
and it would have. (picture me pouting with arms crossed)
but I'm a good girl.
mabye I'll spend tomorrow in a haze, instead.
since it's a holiday weekend here in the great state of Utah.
yes, I said, "great".
but you should know by now that my sarcasm faucet is usually turned on full blast...
We were supposed to be laying sod in our backyard tomorrow, but the guy in charge of ordering it did not do so.
Now, it'll probably arrive while I'm in DC, which means I'll get to come home to a mudless backyard!!!
and, more importantly, it also means I won't have to help.
nah, I wouldn't mind helping.
So I'm listening to my new Maroon 5 CD, and wondering how in the bloody hell it came to pass that I didn't know that one song was by them, nor do I know any of the other songs.
Oh, yeah!
It's because I live in a perpetual state of non-paying-attention to anything around me.
oh, and this song, too?
well.
I guess now I know who Maroon 5 is.
the Mr. bought it, not me.
I like it, though.
I keep forgetting to answer my comments today,
what with the kids, the phone, losing my first attempt, and a rather pressing email to answer...
so I'll do it here.
Lily--the PMS fairy sure does have bad breath--and B.O., and a nasty case of crotch rot!!!
Well, Spin, it's probably not best to banish bras entirely, anyway--just when you have either a good reason or the urge!! some days are just not bra friendly, and that's all there is to it--although I suspect you've discovered that with the whole panty thing...heee....and yes, I can understand the need to trim down in the whole underclothing department, after going through such torure!! Yeah, you'll dig the book.
Sorry, Nate, no Rack shots today! Aw, come on, as much as we hate that bitch, she's necessary...er..well...fine, WITCH HUNT!!!
Oh yikes, CatPants! That sounds horrible! Yeah, it's a lot easier to get away with skipping the bra when you're a housewife...a Senior Designer couldn't exactly get away with that sort of thing at the office!! (but I didn't read far enough to find out what you design...care to enlighten this lazy ass?)
heh. You mean "blogging about drinking", Jerry? hee. and I love it when you comment drunk!! it's at least 2.3 times more fun than sober... and I'm glad I got you laughing, too. :) if I can brighten your work day, it always makes me glow, you darling.
Becks? The uterus jokes are getting old--FAST. Cut it out...
(heeeeeeeeee)
Thanks, Sara! It was a cluster fuck and a half, but at least the PMS fairy didn't make anymore appearances. If you ever want to know a really great way to waste 100 miles, 100 hours, and 100 dollars, let me know. I've got it down to a smooth system.
well no wonder your blog world has been compromised, IA! It's all about the floss... miss you already...ya smarmy bah-stid.
heeeee...jeeez, I wish, Orange! I could save up for my tummy tuck...
I know, City Boy...we are ALL Sam Walton's bitches, it seems! Their prices are so good it's hard to rationalize going somewhere else. Why pay double for my Pantene, or Cogate??? I have actually heard that not wearing bras won't damage your breasts, unless they're extremely large, in most cases. It's strange how different each of our bodies is... Yeah, it is hard for most people to get out when the kids are young. We were lucky enough to have a pair of sisters less than a mile away who were good with the kids, picked up the house, and were ALWAYS available. We moved about 45 miles away from them in February, and haven't found any new sitters...we still go down there when we HAVE to go out...but it's much less free and fun than before.
Well, Chris, you're lucky to have family close, but it is too bad you don't have some teenage neighbors you could employ. You could always go door to door..."Hi, I live down the street, and I was just wondering if you have any teenage daughers?" it helps if you raise your eyebrows repeatedly at the end there, or wink. No, really!
and yes, last night went ok, but it was truly a cluster fuck of grand proportions.
It would have been worth it, if I had been able to enjoy some dinner conversation with the guests of honor, but really I had a pleasant time anyway.
and a Long Island Iced Tea.
aw...remember the good old days?
when Fridays meant this page would be dripping with pheremones and your own drool/other bodily fluids-that-I-don't-want-to-know-about?
maybe it's time for a flashback...
or a fastforward?
or a god damn TYPING CLASS?????
jesus H.
I think I have a brain seizure problem of some kind,
which is making my fingers hit the wrong keys.
ri-goddamn-diculous.
because today...
I'm preoccupied with thoughts of a beach, on a dark summer night.
one fat white moon grinning down at us from the blackness.
water gently lapping at sand.
we laugh, I dare you.
you dare me back.
we race--
my clothes come off first, but you make it under the water first--
I chicken out, after getting in up to my waist.
you drag an arm through the water, drenching me with the wave you create,
just before tackling me and pulling me under with you.
choking and laughing, I burst out of the water, thoughts of revenge flying fast from my mind as I blink away water and focus on your face...
we smile at each other, as the quiet fades back in around us.
I step toward you, my heart racing.
That dare was smooth... as I take one more step toward you.
You almost step away, doubting my motives.
The playful sparkle has gone from my eye and has been replaced with a dull shine of pure lust.
As I pull your head toward mine, your arms circle me and draw me closer,
the distance between our lips now a memory, as our tongues dance and probe, your lips so soft on mine.
our bodies pressing together creates an unusual kind of heat, in the cold water.
as your lips move down my neck, and across my shoulder, I draw a ragged breath, impatient...
you bend to my breasts, taking them gently in your hands and mouth--
licking, nibbling, rubbing...
I start slowly backing out of the water, pulling you with me, unable to wait.
we land on the pile of our clothes, my legs wrapping tightly around you, hips raising to meet you.
Sorry to end so abruptly...I'm sort of not writing explicit stuff on here anymore...
there are a few of that sort in my archives, though, if you're interested.
heh.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Today, I suppose, is one of "those" days...
you know the ones.
the darkish, upside down-ish ones.
the ones where the threat of bodily fluid comes from above the shoulders, not below the waist...
stupid day.
TEN cavities.
psh.
and then an interminable 20 minutes waiting in line at fucking god damn wal mart.
there are NEVER enough cashiers at that location.
and then, the realization that our babysitting situation isn't going to work out for tonight,
so that what I have been looking forward to as a crisp, cool, laughing evening out--
will either be bagged altogether
(my martyr-like suggestion...feeling good as it sprouted from me, but leaving an emptiness once spoken)
or will involve a couple of hundred miles of driving, half of it in rush hour traffic...
siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
so I walked next door, and asked the smiling-est, sweet blond mormon for some numbers of babysitters in our neighborhood.
she's so cute/sweet it makes me ashamed to have ever thought even one grumbling thought about "damn mormons".
of course, none of the girls were home, so we're still screwed for tonight,
but at least I have some numbers on hand for next time!!
finally.
AND.
husband vetoed my idea of having our currently reserved babysitter take the boys to a movie or a park or a playland near the restaurant we're going to.
fuck that.
I'm doing it anyway.
she's 15 and very very good.
she can handle it.
me?
I can't handle staying in tonight.
I interupt this fucking pathetic rant with yet another, slightly more provocative rant:
I AM SO SICK OF WEARING BRAS I COULD JUST DIE.
OR CRY.
OR CALL THE FBI.
Pie.
Lye.
Tie.
Shy.
My.
Mai
Tai
Scuba dive.
no, that last one didn't rhyme, but I was sick of rhyming.
jesus, I hate spelling that word.
so anyway.
also, my new attitude of, "I'm not going to stress out over my weight, I'm just going to keep working out, and enjoy what I eat, and be happy."...?
well.
it's not going so great.
I've gained 4 pounds--
oh!!!
wait!!!!!
all this fucking emotional outburst shit today makes me think it must be a visit from the PMS fairy, which means I can blame the pounds on that.
fucking pounds.
and me, just sitting here, minding my own business--
BLAM!!
clobbered over the head by the pms fairy.
but at least Becky got her sense of humor back full force, post op.
apparently there are a neverending supply of jokes about the uterus or lack thereof.
and, oddly enough, they're as funny as you'd think.
er.
or funnier, depending on how funny you thought they would--
oh, nevermind.
she accused me of not calling her back because of her missing uterus, citing my shame to be associated with such an one.
"But you're deformed!!" I screamed.
we laughed so hard it hurt.
well, it hurt her, at least...
ok, time to get this wacky, hormonal show on the road.
Pray to someone (your neighbor with the lazy eye, your co-worker with the lazy ass, or your mailman with the perma-boner, for example)
that I will make it through this evening in one peace.
have a poop-tacular day, and don't forget to floss.
the darkish, upside down-ish ones.
the ones where the threat of bodily fluid comes from above the shoulders, not below the waist...
stupid day.
TEN cavities.
psh.
and then an interminable 20 minutes waiting in line at fucking god damn wal mart.
there are NEVER enough cashiers at that location.
and then, the realization that our babysitting situation isn't going to work out for tonight,
so that what I have been looking forward to as a crisp, cool, laughing evening out--
will either be bagged altogether
(my martyr-like suggestion...feeling good as it sprouted from me, but leaving an emptiness once spoken)
or will involve a couple of hundred miles of driving, half of it in rush hour traffic...
siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
so I walked next door, and asked the smiling-est, sweet blond mormon for some numbers of babysitters in our neighborhood.
she's so cute/sweet it makes me ashamed to have ever thought even one grumbling thought about "damn mormons".
of course, none of the girls were home, so we're still screwed for tonight,
but at least I have some numbers on hand for next time!!
finally.
AND.
husband vetoed my idea of having our currently reserved babysitter take the boys to a movie or a park or a playland near the restaurant we're going to.
fuck that.
I'm doing it anyway.
she's 15 and very very good.
she can handle it.
me?
I can't handle staying in tonight.
I interupt this fucking pathetic rant with yet another, slightly more provocative rant:
I AM SO SICK OF WEARING BRAS I COULD JUST DIE.
OR CRY.
OR CALL THE FBI.
Pie.
Lye.
Tie.
Shy.
My.
Mai
Tai
Scuba dive.
no, that last one didn't rhyme, but I was sick of rhyming.
jesus, I hate spelling that word.
so anyway.
also, my new attitude of, "I'm not going to stress out over my weight, I'm just going to keep working out, and enjoy what I eat, and be happy."...?
well.
it's not going so great.
I've gained 4 pounds--
oh!!!
wait!!!!!
all this fucking emotional outburst shit today makes me think it must be a visit from the PMS fairy, which means I can blame the pounds on that.
fucking pounds.
and me, just sitting here, minding my own business--
BLAM!!
clobbered over the head by the pms fairy.
but at least Becky got her sense of humor back full force, post op.
apparently there are a neverending supply of jokes about the uterus or lack thereof.
and, oddly enough, they're as funny as you'd think.
er.
or funnier, depending on how funny you thought they would--
oh, nevermind.
she accused me of not calling her back because of her missing uterus, citing my shame to be associated with such an one.
"But you're deformed!!" I screamed.
we laughed so hard it hurt.
well, it hurt her, at least...
ok, time to get this wacky, hormonal show on the road.
Pray to someone (your neighbor with the lazy eye, your co-worker with the lazy ass, or your mailman with the perma-boner, for example)
that I will make it through this evening in one peace.
have a poop-tacular day, and don't forget to floss.
So...
here's a riddle for ya--
if the furniture in your kitchen is mission style,
and the furniture in your bedroom is mission style,
and these are your two favorite rooms...
what does that say about you?
all I know is it doesn't mean I prefer missionary position!
har.
so, speaking of missionaries...
this book I'm reading is really intense.
It's like I have finally found support for my beliefs--
or non-beliefs, I guess.
Lack of, absence of belief in the church of my youth.
It's nice to see it more clearly, from a historical perspective,
from an outsider's perspective.
the polygamy stuff is just...eye-opening.
and stomach-turning.
and really really sad...
most of the women are forced into it, and they marry men at least twice their age.
I am, however, rather tempted to start a religion based on polyandry...
lordy, what I could do with 4 or 5 husbands!!!
Imagine it...
Me, like a queen, the ruler of all.
they could shower me with love and affection all day,
and I could choose from the gourmet menu of lovers for each night...
girls?
who's with me?
I hear there's some cheap land in Montana!!
Queens Compound, here we come!
(come...heehee!)
yeah, yeah, it would never work.
...but a girl can dream, can't she?
oh, fuck off, I can too.
well.
I decided that my new theme song is "Rise", by The Cult.
this means it should be kept on standby, so that whenever I make an entrance,
it can be played at full volume.
It should also be played while reading this blog, so please download it and keep it handy.
I would reccomend that you download the lyrics and memorize them, both forward and backward, so that you can be ready to recite them on command.
no.
not really.
but, damn I love that song.
my kids love it when my husband plays "tackle" with them--
tickling and nearly suffocating them with pillows, and body slamming them onto our bed, etc.
good, old fashioned horseplay.
well...
we were having an afternoon romp--door locked, etc.
and they came to the door.
asked us if we would come see the train track they had built "when you're done playing tackle".
heh.
yup, that's what we're doing kids!!!
praise the lord for that excuse!
much better than the, "Mommy, does it hurt when daddy spanks you?"
aw, fuck.
"daddy doesn't hurt mommy..."
ok, and on that note, my handsome non-stranger is done with the work he brought home, so that means, fuck you guys, I'm going to BED!!!!
here's a riddle for ya--
if the furniture in your kitchen is mission style,
and the furniture in your bedroom is mission style,
and these are your two favorite rooms...
what does that say about you?
all I know is it doesn't mean I prefer missionary position!
har.
so, speaking of missionaries...
this book I'm reading is really intense.
It's like I have finally found support for my beliefs--
or non-beliefs, I guess.
Lack of, absence of belief in the church of my youth.
It's nice to see it more clearly, from a historical perspective,
from an outsider's perspective.
the polygamy stuff is just...eye-opening.
and stomach-turning.
and really really sad...
most of the women are forced into it, and they marry men at least twice their age.
I am, however, rather tempted to start a religion based on polyandry...
lordy, what I could do with 4 or 5 husbands!!!
Imagine it...
Me, like a queen, the ruler of all.
they could shower me with love and affection all day,
and I could choose from the gourmet menu of lovers for each night...
girls?
who's with me?
I hear there's some cheap land in Montana!!
Queens Compound, here we come!
(come...heehee!)
yeah, yeah, it would never work.
...but a girl can dream, can't she?
oh, fuck off, I can too.
well.
I decided that my new theme song is "Rise", by The Cult.
this means it should be kept on standby, so that whenever I make an entrance,
it can be played at full volume.
It should also be played while reading this blog, so please download it and keep it handy.
I would reccomend that you download the lyrics and memorize them, both forward and backward, so that you can be ready to recite them on command.
no.
not really.
but, damn I love that song.
my kids love it when my husband plays "tackle" with them--
tickling and nearly suffocating them with pillows, and body slamming them onto our bed, etc.
good, old fashioned horseplay.
well...
we were having an afternoon romp--door locked, etc.
and they came to the door.
asked us if we would come see the train track they had built "when you're done playing tackle".
heh.
yup, that's what we're doing kids!!!
praise the lord for that excuse!
much better than the, "Mommy, does it hurt when daddy spanks you?"
aw, fuck.
"daddy doesn't hurt mommy..."
ok, and on that note, my handsome non-stranger is done with the work he brought home, so that means, fuck you guys, I'm going to BED!!!!
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Chicken Soup for the Sole
no, really--
soaking one's feet in a hearty chicken broth will really cut down on stink-factor as well as bunions and plantar's warts.
I dare ya...
tomorrow I get to go to the dentist for a cleaning and whitening!
I'm pretty stoked.
yes, I said "stoked".
ignore it...
it's part of my 80s House experiment.
I'm sort of trying to do a low-budget imitation of the MTV show, The 70s House...
It's a great excuse to wear a mullet
and dig out those cropped shirts and peg the legs in my jeans.
....what?
you think I'm kidding, don't you?
well.
you're right.
but that show looks like the worst idea since "I want to be a Hilton".
crazy fucking American viewing public.
so we're starting the great search for a new car/vehicle for me.
one thing I'm a little weird about is that brand new cars really make me ill.
it's not just the fact that they lose a chunk of value the second you drive them off the lot,
but that's one strike against them.
the other thing is...
I just haven't shaken off my humble roots enough, I guess.
I mean...spending $40k on a mode of transportation???
that's just silly.
and they're way too perfect.
and utah is all about perfect, and large vehicles, so I'm rebelling.
a dependable, foreign-made car, with AC and power everything and better than 15 MPG--
that's what makes me horny.
I have this overwhelming desire to own a vehicle that seats more than 5, since carpooling is a possibility looming in my future as sure and menacingly as term papers and final exams...
and with an airbag in the passenger's seat, and two kids of my own, that leaves one seat for a child.
when we have the step son, our car as at capacity.
poor gangly thing isn't going to be happy between two car seats much longer
(ok, so I wouldn't categorize him as "happy" about it right now, either!)
so.
I've decided on my dream car, but I'm afraid to jinx myself by saying what it is.
I've written it 3 times in this post, but deleted it because I got spooked.
I'm a leeeetle superstitious...had you noticed?
I will definitely let you know if/when I get something...
and, just for the hell of it--
imagine yourself naked
wrapped around me, your face in my neck, my legs around your back...
tangled in linens,
heavy breathing turning to soft moans,
kisses like a summer rain storm...
yes.
that would be divine.
there's more...but it'll stay in my head for now.
and now I'm running late.
AGAIN.
this whole blogging before the gym thing isn't really working out so great.
and why?
well, it's because I'm a procrastinator, a limit-pusher.
I'm supposed to be LEAVING right now, but I'm in pjs and so are my kids!!
faaack.
soaking one's feet in a hearty chicken broth will really cut down on stink-factor as well as bunions and plantar's warts.
I dare ya...
tomorrow I get to go to the dentist for a cleaning and whitening!
I'm pretty stoked.
yes, I said "stoked".
ignore it...
it's part of my 80s House experiment.
I'm sort of trying to do a low-budget imitation of the MTV show, The 70s House...
It's a great excuse to wear a mullet
and dig out those cropped shirts and peg the legs in my jeans.
....what?
you think I'm kidding, don't you?
well.
you're right.
but that show looks like the worst idea since "I want to be a Hilton".
crazy fucking American viewing public.
so we're starting the great search for a new car/vehicle for me.
one thing I'm a little weird about is that brand new cars really make me ill.
it's not just the fact that they lose a chunk of value the second you drive them off the lot,
but that's one strike against them.
the other thing is...
I just haven't shaken off my humble roots enough, I guess.
I mean...spending $40k on a mode of transportation???
that's just silly.
and they're way too perfect.
and utah is all about perfect, and large vehicles, so I'm rebelling.
a dependable, foreign-made car, with AC and power everything and better than 15 MPG--
that's what makes me horny.
I have this overwhelming desire to own a vehicle that seats more than 5, since carpooling is a possibility looming in my future as sure and menacingly as term papers and final exams...
and with an airbag in the passenger's seat, and two kids of my own, that leaves one seat for a child.
when we have the step son, our car as at capacity.
poor gangly thing isn't going to be happy between two car seats much longer
(ok, so I wouldn't categorize him as "happy" about it right now, either!)
so.
I've decided on my dream car, but I'm afraid to jinx myself by saying what it is.
I've written it 3 times in this post, but deleted it because I got spooked.
I'm a leeeetle superstitious...had you noticed?
I will definitely let you know if/when I get something...
and, just for the hell of it--
imagine yourself naked
wrapped around me, your face in my neck, my legs around your back...
tangled in linens,
heavy breathing turning to soft moans,
kisses like a summer rain storm...
yes.
that would be divine.
there's more...but it'll stay in my head for now.
and now I'm running late.
AGAIN.
this whole blogging before the gym thing isn't really working out so great.
and why?
well, it's because I'm a procrastinator, a limit-pusher.
I'm supposed to be LEAVING right now, but I'm in pjs and so are my kids!!
faaack.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Fuck blogging
I need to get in the shower, for today is another busy busy busy day.
one of my husband's brothers is in town for the week, so we have a bunch of stuff going on.
today we're going to the waterpark,
but first my kids have school.
and I have an appointment with the angel-faced trainer o'satan.
and I need to go to the post office...
which is almost as bad as the trainer.
I don't know why I have such an aversion to the post office,
because I think I like it...and yet...
whenever it's on my list of errands, I put it off, for days, weeks--
sometimes months.
oh well.
shit, I just noticed the date!
it's the birthday of a dear...friend.
a friend who I've hardly seen for months.
blah.
I'm not going to whine here.
I'm reading the most fascinating book right now--
about Fundamentalist Mormons and their polygamy-based pedophilia.
('magine the google hits i'll get for that string!!)
I am ready to storm the compounds and rescue these poor girls!
not to mention it gives all sorts of interesting history of mormonism--
objective history, not faith-spun history.
so of course it's super appealing to me for this reason.
"Under the Banner of Heaven" is what it's called, in case you're interested.
This was the book I read for extra long last night as I kept having flashbacks to this story--
since my husband's out of town, I was seeing things in the shadows, anyway!
I can't think of anything to say...
can't think of anything I'm allowed to say.
well...
today is Tuesday.
so take off your bra, if you have one/if you can!!
(yes, I'm still milking the white shirt set from a couple of weeks ago...ugh, did I just say "milking"???)
long day.
don't forget your sunscreen...
one of my husband's brothers is in town for the week, so we have a bunch of stuff going on.
today we're going to the waterpark,
but first my kids have school.
and I have an appointment with the angel-faced trainer o'satan.
and I need to go to the post office...
which is almost as bad as the trainer.
I don't know why I have such an aversion to the post office,
because I think I like it...and yet...
whenever it's on my list of errands, I put it off, for days, weeks--
sometimes months.
oh well.
shit, I just noticed the date!
it's the birthday of a dear...friend.
a friend who I've hardly seen for months.
blah.
I'm not going to whine here.
I'm reading the most fascinating book right now--
about Fundamentalist Mormons and their polygamy-based pedophilia.
('magine the google hits i'll get for that string!!)
I am ready to storm the compounds and rescue these poor girls!
not to mention it gives all sorts of interesting history of mormonism--
objective history, not faith-spun history.
so of course it's super appealing to me for this reason.
"Under the Banner of Heaven" is what it's called, in case you're interested.
This was the book I read for extra long last night as I kept having flashbacks to this story--
since my husband's out of town, I was seeing things in the shadows, anyway!
I can't think of anything to say...
can't think of anything I'm allowed to say.
well...
today is Tuesday.
so take off your bra, if you have one/if you can!!
(yes, I'm still milking the white shirt set from a couple of weeks ago...ugh, did I just say "milking"???)
long day.
don't forget your sunscreen...
Monday, July 18, 2005
oh what a busy day!
a great workout, followed by a cake binge, and now off to the races.
er...
not the races.
gotta go across town and pick up the step son, then head all the way down to the UC
(utah county: mormonville) for a family BBQ...
didn't I just have one of those yesterday???
different side of the family.
I'm really looking forward to it, though.
just not looking forward to all the traffic dodging.
ah, well.
such is life.
my kids have both melted into puddles of w(h)ine on the floor, so I'm suddenly finding this more difficult than usual.
apparently they want some lunch or something...
such demanding kids!!
heh.
ok, well, so much for posting.
hope you all have a fabulous day.
maybe i'll audiopost on the drive, if I don't have a fatal case of road rage.
er...
not the races.
gotta go across town and pick up the step son, then head all the way down to the UC
(utah county: mormonville) for a family BBQ...
didn't I just have one of those yesterday???
different side of the family.
I'm really looking forward to it, though.
just not looking forward to all the traffic dodging.
ah, well.
such is life.
my kids have both melted into puddles of w(h)ine on the floor, so I'm suddenly finding this more difficult than usual.
apparently they want some lunch or something...
such demanding kids!!
heh.
ok, well, so much for posting.
hope you all have a fabulous day.
maybe i'll audiopost on the drive, if I don't have a fatal case of road rage.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Should I start drinking yet?
The girls are on their way, with dinner, so I guess I'll wait for them...
it's going to be a great time--wish you all were here!
I'm just getting hungry...perfect timing!
it's going to be a great time--wish you all were here!
I'm just getting hungry...perfect timing!
Friday, July 15, 2005
So tired that I couldn't even sleep--
just wasted ten minutes searching for Runaway Train lyrics, and downloading said track from napster, because the line I wanted to quote was A) not a real line at all and B) the one that was closest refused to sing properly in my head...
jesus.
do I have issues?
peeeer-haps.
but really, I was just trying to say I've promised myself something and I have so totally like fer sure NOT kept the promise.
only, no...that's not it either.
god damn Soul Asylum!!
why didn't they just write the damn lyric to suit my mood of the moment????
jeeeeezus.
fuckers.
(yes, it's a club I joined in college for extra credit: JESUS FUCKERS...bunch of weirdos. They were catholic nuns with a wild streak...hey! they're married to him, I should think they could screw him every now 'n' again! don't be so judgmental...mental...mental...mental....for fuck's sake, did someone slip me some MJ????)
ok, so my other favorite song, partly because I can sing it, and partly because the lyrics MIGHT just apply to me...
only not really.
but it's funny to pretend...
Green Day, "Basket Case"
I'm not linking or posting the lyrics because I think you should already know by now that I am one of those melodramatic fools...
bah.
I didn't even drink coffee.
or bloody marys.
or red wine.
I think the heat is getting to me...
seeping in through the crack under the door and reaching for me--
like the arm of water in The Abyss!!
that movie was so fucking great.
seriously, I have major ADD tonight.
"tonight? Tonight, she says. Tonight as opposed to...?"
yeah, go fuck yourselves.
no really...do it...and for the love of god, let me watch!!!!
oh!
so the promise I made myself--
It's just that I always sorta promise myself that I will not compare myself to others, right?
because that's unhealthy and downright stupid.
and I generally do a pretty good job of keeping that particular human instict in check.
keeping myself balanced, or whatevah.
but there are times when I feel incredibly shitty about myself or my life or my bangs
(no, not hair, a list of guys ending 7 years ago.)
and in those times I start to compare.
It annoys me.
I caught myself doing it just tonight.
apparently my inner beast is on the prowl.
ah, well.
screw you, inner beast.
why don't you go hang out with the pms fairy and pick on all the Wall Street assholes?
jeeez....those two are quite a pair.
I hope they get lost.
Ok...
so anyway, it's a really strange feeling when I encounter something that I take so personally,
when I have no business comparing to fucking begin with--
the way my whole insides feel like a stormy afternoon,
or a child runnning to hide from an angry father.
the fact that I feel so...affected,
by something so distant.
blurgh.
dammmmmmmmmn it.
I hate when I expose myself like this.
now, exposing myself to a crowded train is an entirely different story.
talk about "rush" hour!
haaaaa!!
fuck no, I've never done that you freaks!
but somedays, I would sorta kinda like to.
...run through BYU campus in knee high black boots and a wide-open trench coat...
ok, maybe a thong.
hell, if I didn't get arrested, I would probably get laid.
ha!
poor repressed bastards.
I will, however, always cherish the memory of the elevator fuck, a couple of valentine's days ago, in the tallest building on campus.
short skirt, tall boots--tall husband.
anyway, at least I'm not wallowing in it.
I wrote this as a way to get it out of my system and more clearly remind myself not to be such a fucking cunt.
and because writing about any emotion, good, bad or even ugly, like this one, is a great exercise for me.
ok, so it's the weekend which means not many people will read this, but regardless, I want to end on a more cheerful note.
picture this:
you are standing in the blurry cylinder of light from a streetlamp,
as the rain pours down in sheets,
your arms outstretched, your head back as you spin in circles.
your laughter carries, muffled by the sounds of the storm,
into the windows of your neighbors, and into their hearts.
oooo...now I'm picturing my body pressed to...his...both of us cold and drenched, and feeling the hardness pressing into me as we tumbled behind some bushes and fought against the suction of wet fabric to skin, exposing each other's need, our mouths hot despite the cold skin, our bodies joining, despite the hurdles...
mmm....I like that.
also, I like that my imagination fills me with such joy, because frankly...life is never as perfect
beautiful
painless
color-by-numbers...
as the scenes I trip through in my own little head.
one more thing to make you smile--
I keep stretching my arm above my head and sticking my nose into my pit for a deep sniff.
I like how my cold nose feels against my warm arm, and even more oddly...
I like the smell.
good thing y'all don't know where I live.
without an address, you'll have a hell of a time getting me committed!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had planned to lay in bed and read my fabulous book, but this feels good, too.
jesus.
do I have issues?
peeeer-haps.
but really, I was just trying to say I've promised myself something and I have so totally like fer sure NOT kept the promise.
only, no...that's not it either.
god damn Soul Asylum!!
why didn't they just write the damn lyric to suit my mood of the moment????
jeeeeezus.
fuckers.
(yes, it's a club I joined in college for extra credit: JESUS FUCKERS...bunch of weirdos. They were catholic nuns with a wild streak...hey! they're married to him, I should think they could screw him every now 'n' again! don't be so judgmental...mental...mental...mental....for fuck's sake, did someone slip me some MJ????)
ok, so my other favorite song, partly because I can sing it, and partly because the lyrics MIGHT just apply to me...
only not really.
but it's funny to pretend...
Green Day, "Basket Case"
I'm not linking or posting the lyrics because I think you should already know by now that I am one of those melodramatic fools...
bah.
I didn't even drink coffee.
or bloody marys.
or red wine.
I think the heat is getting to me...
seeping in through the crack under the door and reaching for me--
like the arm of water in The Abyss!!
that movie was so fucking great.
seriously, I have major ADD tonight.
"tonight? Tonight, she says. Tonight as opposed to...?"
yeah, go fuck yourselves.
no really...do it...and for the love of god, let me watch!!!!
oh!
so the promise I made myself--
It's just that I always sorta promise myself that I will not compare myself to others, right?
because that's unhealthy and downright stupid.
and I generally do a pretty good job of keeping that particular human instict in check.
keeping myself balanced, or whatevah.
but there are times when I feel incredibly shitty about myself or my life or my bangs
(no, not hair, a list of guys ending 7 years ago.)
and in those times I start to compare.
It annoys me.
I caught myself doing it just tonight.
apparently my inner beast is on the prowl.
ah, well.
screw you, inner beast.
why don't you go hang out with the pms fairy and pick on all the Wall Street assholes?
jeeez....those two are quite a pair.
I hope they get lost.
Ok...
so anyway, it's a really strange feeling when I encounter something that I take so personally,
when I have no business comparing to fucking begin with--
the way my whole insides feel like a stormy afternoon,
or a child runnning to hide from an angry father.
the fact that I feel so...affected,
by something so distant.
blurgh.
dammmmmmmmmn it.
I hate when I expose myself like this.
now, exposing myself to a crowded train is an entirely different story.
talk about "rush" hour!
haaaaa!!
fuck no, I've never done that you freaks!
but somedays, I would sorta kinda like to.
...run through BYU campus in knee high black boots and a wide-open trench coat...
ok, maybe a thong.
hell, if I didn't get arrested, I would probably get laid.
ha!
poor repressed bastards.
I will, however, always cherish the memory of the elevator fuck, a couple of valentine's days ago, in the tallest building on campus.
short skirt, tall boots--tall husband.
anyway, at least I'm not wallowing in it.
I wrote this as a way to get it out of my system and more clearly remind myself not to be such a fucking cunt.
and because writing about any emotion, good, bad or even ugly, like this one, is a great exercise for me.
ok, so it's the weekend which means not many people will read this, but regardless, I want to end on a more cheerful note.
picture this:
you are standing in the blurry cylinder of light from a streetlamp,
as the rain pours down in sheets,
your arms outstretched, your head back as you spin in circles.
your laughter carries, muffled by the sounds of the storm,
into the windows of your neighbors, and into their hearts.
oooo...now I'm picturing my body pressed to...his...both of us cold and drenched, and feeling the hardness pressing into me as we tumbled behind some bushes and fought against the suction of wet fabric to skin, exposing each other's need, our mouths hot despite the cold skin, our bodies joining, despite the hurdles...
mmm....I like that.
also, I like that my imagination fills me with such joy, because frankly...life is never as perfect
beautiful
painless
color-by-numbers...
as the scenes I trip through in my own little head.
one more thing to make you smile--
I keep stretching my arm above my head and sticking my nose into my pit for a deep sniff.
I like how my cold nose feels against my warm arm, and even more oddly...
I like the smell.
good thing y'all don't know where I live.
without an address, you'll have a hell of a time getting me committed!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had planned to lay in bed and read my fabulous book, but this feels good, too.
Oh what a day!
took the boys to the dentist, and it went way better than I expected.
no, that's not code for "I snuck some laughing gas and woke up with my shirt inside out".
(unfortunately)
then we ransacked the local wal-mart, and came home to play with more of the flying things they got for their birthday.
helicopters and airplanes and this really cool bird that actually flies--
built from leonardo davinci's design.
still as hot as satan's armpit outside, so we kept it brief.
also, I landed the bird on our roof...
I am a good mom, though, so I climbed out my window, onto hot tar, and retrieved the damn thing.
ok, ok, maybe I just like to show off.
but I got the bird, and that's all that counts.
my neighbor was mowing his lawn and has probably completed his checklist of "signs your new neighbor is crazy", but oh well.
our dinner plans fell through, so if any of you want to stop by,
I'm making a Bermuda salad
(yes, it's brightly printed and knee-length...)
some shrimp/steak/chicken/mushroom/zuchini/pepper kabobs
(no, they're not "shish" kabobs. it's a long story...)
watermelon, pasta salad, red wine, bloody marys, and birthday cake!!
fuck.
I guess I better find some new dinner guests or scale back the menu, eh?
also, I feel the need to clarify...
when I say I have a minumum of 4 crushes?
most of those are vague and never get fantasized about.
that brief little dip in blogger crush lake has now passed as well.
I have decided to let my membership dues to the Crush Club lapse.
it's something I should have done years ago, anyway.
thanks in part to my out of control ego and its uncanny ability to be anhilated with the ease of an egg, lying on the sidewalk under a fast-falling piano.
but I also owe some credit to...other sources, both internal and external.
The ghost of christmas past, for one,
and the damn Bee girl from the Blind Melon video.
I dunno...
I guess I should have kept it to myself.
well.
today is a gorgeous day, a happy day, a sunshiney, hopeful, dreamy day--
I will lick the salt from the rim of this giant margarita glass friday.
I will take those lemons I bought today (I really did!!) and make lemonade--
with a dash or 6 of vodka.
today, I will fuck my husband, instead of nearly nodding off while he worked his magic...like last night.
and don't forget to wish Sergei a happy birthday!!
no, that's not code for "I snuck some laughing gas and woke up with my shirt inside out".
(unfortunately)
then we ransacked the local wal-mart, and came home to play with more of the flying things they got for their birthday.
helicopters and airplanes and this really cool bird that actually flies--
built from leonardo davinci's design.
still as hot as satan's armpit outside, so we kept it brief.
also, I landed the bird on our roof...
I am a good mom, though, so I climbed out my window, onto hot tar, and retrieved the damn thing.
ok, ok, maybe I just like to show off.
but I got the bird, and that's all that counts.
my neighbor was mowing his lawn and has probably completed his checklist of "signs your new neighbor is crazy", but oh well.
our dinner plans fell through, so if any of you want to stop by,
I'm making a Bermuda salad
(yes, it's brightly printed and knee-length...)
some shrimp/steak/chicken/mushroom/zuchini/pepper kabobs
(no, they're not "shish" kabobs. it's a long story...)
watermelon, pasta salad, red wine, bloody marys, and birthday cake!!
fuck.
I guess I better find some new dinner guests or scale back the menu, eh?
also, I feel the need to clarify...
when I say I have a minumum of 4 crushes?
most of those are vague and never get fantasized about.
that brief little dip in blogger crush lake has now passed as well.
I have decided to let my membership dues to the Crush Club lapse.
it's something I should have done years ago, anyway.
thanks in part to my out of control ego and its uncanny ability to be anhilated with the ease of an egg, lying on the sidewalk under a fast-falling piano.
but I also owe some credit to...other sources, both internal and external.
The ghost of christmas past, for one,
and the damn Bee girl from the Blind Melon video.
I dunno...
I guess I should have kept it to myself.
well.
today is a gorgeous day, a happy day, a sunshiney, hopeful, dreamy day--
I will lick the salt from the rim of this giant margarita glass friday.
I will take those lemons I bought today (I really did!!) and make lemonade--
with a dash or 6 of vodka.
today, I will fuck my husband, instead of nearly nodding off while he worked his magic...like last night.
and don't forget to wish Sergei a happy birthday!!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Today is a special day here in my house...
Five years ago today, my husband was way up in the mountains on a camping trip with his 5 brothers.
Out of cell phone range.
It was so fucking hot, and our new house did not have central air yet.
I was on my 4th day of semi-bed rest, i.e.: don't go to work and don't do household chores.
around 1pm, the phone rang, and it was my husband.
two of his brothers had gotten into a loud and angry discussion that we like to call "a fight".
remember, 6 men, all very tall and very
very
very
right.
so, my husband, being one of the 3 blondes (which means he's mellow),
had had enough of the childish antics of the most successful one and...which one? hm. can't remember. I think it was the tallest.
anywho.
my husband had abandoned the trip and was now headed to the golf course.
I hung up with him and got a call from my sister in law, who called to see how I was doing.
"Oh, just sitting around, waiting to go into labor," said the fate-tempting me.
we chatted for a few minutes, I gave her the update on the camping trip, and--
just as I hung up, my water broke.
damn, that shit's painful.
well, the contractions that followed were painful...
so I called my doctor, like a good girl, and was told, "like, duh, haul ass to the hospital!"
so. I called husband, who rushed home.
it felt like two hours, but i guess it was 20 minutes.
then he took the long way to the hospital and made me climb up into his tall-ass Trooper...erg.
MEN!
so, ba da bing, ba da boom, panting swearing evil pain turns into "baby in distress" "emergency c-section".
I was just glad they shoved that needle in my back so I could blink and look around at the lovely nurses and apologize for my rudeness.
the rest of the story and some cutesy pictures are here, where I told the story last year.
The bottom line is, I spent a gazillion dollars and I think they got more presents than Christmas, and they rock my world upside down.
I can't believe my babies are so grown up....
So, last night I had my girl's night thing, and it was great fun, as usual.
I didn't bite my tongue quite fast enough, but recovered well with humor on my side, during a mormon encounter of a close kind.
then, once the crowd had dwindled a bit, my "fuck" sensor turned off, and it started flying a bit.
oh well.
and, most importantly, Deidra and I had
fab
you
less
conversation.
she gave me some great insights into publishing,
and we bonded over how we stumbled from "effortlessly thin" to...effortlessly not so thin...
and, coincidentally, we stumbled effortlessly!!
ha.
we talked about a thousand different things, and it was so satisfying!!!
I had begun to forget what it's like to have that kind of connection with a woman.
girlfriends RAWK.
speaking of girlfriends, please stop on by Becky's place and wish her luck in surgery today, and a speedy recovery, etc.
(update: just got a call. she's not dead!!)
I have a sunburn and my muscles ache and I have two parties to plan, and oh, that reminds me, I need to have another one--maybe next Saturday...?
no, none of you are invited, sorry.
we will drink a lot and eat fantastically delicious foods and listen to great music, though.
so don't feel bad.
heh.
ok, FINE, if any of you are in Utah when I have the big party, you can come.
tomorrow night, a quiet dinner with a couple.
sunday, a big family dinner for the twinner's birthday.
but next week, I need to have something like a house warming party, only...
if this weather keeps up, it won't require much effort to warm the damn thing!
ha.
HA.
ha.
did anyone ever tell you how funny you think I am?
well, you do.
anyway....
I really wish this post was more exciting,
but it's not.
and I have shit to do.
so I think I will.
if you want to read a better post, read yesterday's.
or go to someone else's blog.
heeeeee.
Out of cell phone range.
It was so fucking hot, and our new house did not have central air yet.
I was on my 4th day of semi-bed rest, i.e.: don't go to work and don't do household chores.
around 1pm, the phone rang, and it was my husband.
two of his brothers had gotten into a loud and angry discussion that we like to call "a fight".
remember, 6 men, all very tall and very
very
very
right.
so, my husband, being one of the 3 blondes (which means he's mellow),
had had enough of the childish antics of the most successful one and...which one? hm. can't remember. I think it was the tallest.
anywho.
my husband had abandoned the trip and was now headed to the golf course.
I hung up with him and got a call from my sister in law, who called to see how I was doing.
"Oh, just sitting around, waiting to go into labor," said the fate-tempting me.
we chatted for a few minutes, I gave her the update on the camping trip, and--
just as I hung up, my water broke.
damn, that shit's painful.
well, the contractions that followed were painful...
so I called my doctor, like a good girl, and was told, "like, duh, haul ass to the hospital!"
so. I called husband, who rushed home.
it felt like two hours, but i guess it was 20 minutes.
then he took the long way to the hospital and made me climb up into his tall-ass Trooper...erg.
MEN!
so, ba da bing, ba da boom, panting swearing evil pain turns into "baby in distress" "emergency c-section".
I was just glad they shoved that needle in my back so I could blink and look around at the lovely nurses and apologize for my rudeness.
the rest of the story and some cutesy pictures are here, where I told the story last year.
The bottom line is, I spent a gazillion dollars and I think they got more presents than Christmas, and they rock my world upside down.
I can't believe my babies are so grown up....
So, last night I had my girl's night thing, and it was great fun, as usual.
I didn't bite my tongue quite fast enough, but recovered well with humor on my side, during a mormon encounter of a close kind.
then, once the crowd had dwindled a bit, my "fuck" sensor turned off, and it started flying a bit.
oh well.
and, most importantly, Deidra and I had
fab
you
less
conversation.
she gave me some great insights into publishing,
and we bonded over how we stumbled from "effortlessly thin" to...effortlessly not so thin...
and, coincidentally, we stumbled effortlessly!!
ha.
we talked about a thousand different things, and it was so satisfying!!!
I had begun to forget what it's like to have that kind of connection with a woman.
girlfriends RAWK.
speaking of girlfriends, please stop on by Becky's place and wish her luck in surgery today, and a speedy recovery, etc.
(update: just got a call. she's not dead!!)
I have a sunburn and my muscles ache and I have two parties to plan, and oh, that reminds me, I need to have another one--maybe next Saturday...?
no, none of you are invited, sorry.
we will drink a lot and eat fantastically delicious foods and listen to great music, though.
so don't feel bad.
heh.
ok, FINE, if any of you are in Utah when I have the big party, you can come.
tomorrow night, a quiet dinner with a couple.
sunday, a big family dinner for the twinner's birthday.
but next week, I need to have something like a house warming party, only...
if this weather keeps up, it won't require much effort to warm the damn thing!
ha.
HA.
ha.
did anyone ever tell you how funny you think I am?
well, you do.
anyway....
I really wish this post was more exciting,
but it's not.
and I have shit to do.
so I think I will.
if you want to read a better post, read yesterday's.
or go to someone else's blog.
heeeeee.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
It's a hundred and fucking four today--
I am in the mood to write stories...
So I should shut up and write them, right?
Ok. I will.
in a minute...
Today was spent diving from one air conditioned womb to another,
through thick, heavy air, as hot as beams of sun are, at this distance...
as hot as the slippery sand of a beach, a desert, a dune...
as hot as the leather seats of a car left in the sun for too long...
as hot as that lifeguard who could not possibly be checking me out...could he?
hotter than...everything else.
So after all the slithering like lazy snakes from the cold car to the cold gym to the cold car to the cold house--
we tumbled sweatily to the pool.
my tee ball crush lives in this neighborhood, apparently.
that's either good news or bad news, but most likely no news.
I have a club minimum of 4 crushes at a time, just for anyone keeping score at home...
So, it's not so very special.
I have a new blogger crush, too---
makes my blood rush just to think of it in passing, like this.
how he hovers in my mind while my body is experiencing...pleasure.
I wonder if he really has chest hair, or if that's just my version.
and I wonder if he would sense the wavering restraint of my desire,
and if he read my mind, would he blush before roughly pressing me against a wall and breathlessly acting out what he saw there...?
somehow, this volleying back and forth between extreme hot and extreme cool is making me extremely aware of sexuality...mine? yours? ...ours.
I haven't written a fantasty for a while, but it's all I can think of right now.
nothing specific...
just a growing need to touch, be touched.
my sunburn feels warm as the cool air of my home flows around me.
ha!!!!
that was fucking classic!!!
my phone just rang...
to my "hello?"
hubby says, "get your finger out of there."
killer.
he knows me...
his joke was accurate, and that means we're connected.
and that makes me radiate happiness--
it meets my sunburn, on its way out of me and they get tangled up, such different frequencies, such similar temperatures...
so...no fantasy.
not for you, at least.
me?
I might just lean back in this chair, close my eyes, and use my palette to create a panorama of skin, of wetness from mouths, from clouds, from...me.
I might slide my hand down, across my hardening nipples and under the waistband of my shorts, damp from the removed wet bathing suit.
I might.
one strap of my tank top slipping over a shoulder, the fabric brushing my skin gives me shivers, wishing it was you, or caused by you...more directly.
my body is suddenly the same as this day--
hard nipples, showing coldness, metal chair against sunburned back, coldness--
the heat growing under the pressure of my fingers, not at all like the heat of this dry day.
where are you? impatiently moaned...
like a spoiled child--
a lazy girl, wanting you to do the fucking, or at least help...
shit.
I'll probably regret posting this....
So I should shut up and write them, right?
Ok. I will.
in a minute...
Today was spent diving from one air conditioned womb to another,
through thick, heavy air, as hot as beams of sun are, at this distance...
as hot as the slippery sand of a beach, a desert, a dune...
as hot as the leather seats of a car left in the sun for too long...
as hot as that lifeguard who could not possibly be checking me out...could he?
hotter than...everything else.
So after all the slithering like lazy snakes from the cold car to the cold gym to the cold car to the cold house--
we tumbled sweatily to the pool.
my tee ball crush lives in this neighborhood, apparently.
that's either good news or bad news, but most likely no news.
I have a club minimum of 4 crushes at a time, just for anyone keeping score at home...
So, it's not so very special.
I have a new blogger crush, too---
makes my blood rush just to think of it in passing, like this.
how he hovers in my mind while my body is experiencing...pleasure.
I wonder if he really has chest hair, or if that's just my version.
and I wonder if he would sense the wavering restraint of my desire,
and if he read my mind, would he blush before roughly pressing me against a wall and breathlessly acting out what he saw there...?
somehow, this volleying back and forth between extreme hot and extreme cool is making me extremely aware of sexuality...mine? yours? ...ours.
I haven't written a fantasty for a while, but it's all I can think of right now.
nothing specific...
just a growing need to touch, be touched.
my sunburn feels warm as the cool air of my home flows around me.
ha!!!!
that was fucking classic!!!
my phone just rang...
to my "hello?"
hubby says, "get your finger out of there."
killer.
he knows me...
his joke was accurate, and that means we're connected.
and that makes me radiate happiness--
it meets my sunburn, on its way out of me and they get tangled up, such different frequencies, such similar temperatures...
so...no fantasy.
not for you, at least.
me?
I might just lean back in this chair, close my eyes, and use my palette to create a panorama of skin, of wetness from mouths, from clouds, from...me.
I might slide my hand down, across my hardening nipples and under the waistband of my shorts, damp from the removed wet bathing suit.
I might.
one strap of my tank top slipping over a shoulder, the fabric brushing my skin gives me shivers, wishing it was you, or caused by you...more directly.
my body is suddenly the same as this day--
hard nipples, showing coldness, metal chair against sunburned back, coldness--
the heat growing under the pressure of my fingers, not at all like the heat of this dry day.
where are you? impatiently moaned...
like a spoiled child--
a lazy girl, wanting you to do the fucking, or at least help...
shit.
I'll probably regret posting this....
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
I'm feeling foggy, rather groggy....
so I'll probably go get in bed and read.
I'm reading a blogger's novel--
and so far, it is wonderful.
Beautifully written, with a story that is moving along quite nicely...
I don't do reviews, so that's all you get for now.
I had read the blog a handful of times, and found the writing compelling,
besides which I love supporting other bloggers in their creative outlets.
On the treadmill this morning for my warm up,
I noticed this craptastic local morning news show.
Actually, I think the suffix "-tastic" is very misleading, so let me just clarify that:
It sucks hard.
I was thinking of writing them a letter, to alert the producers of this.
I mean, I'm certain they don't already know, otherwise it would have been cancelled.
I've forgotten most of the intended letter,
but the best line stuck with me, "The only thing that saved me from slitting my wrists, was the fact that I had to walk past the remote on my way to the knife drawer."
It is like watching a plate of dry toast cool off.
Or eating that toast.
Or having that toast rubbed all over your oiled-down, naked body...
oops, I got distracted.
it's nothing like that last one.
but suddenly I'm wide awake.
my shoulders feel like sand bags.
that evil little bastard made me watch myself in a mirror while I did a bunch of crap today, and that's just plain mean.
pushing me so hard on Legs day that I puke?
fine, you're just doing your job.
but make me look my fat self in the eye while I grunt????
burn in hell, pilot boy.
oh, yeah, he has his pilot's license, so I'm trying to become good friends with him,
so I can get him to take my little ones for a ride.
I'll pay for the gas and whatever, but do you EVEN know how much my boys talk about
think about
dream about
play with
watch movies about
AIRPLANES?
they've been on commercial jets a few times, but the last time was two years ago,
so they had just turned 3.
i.e.: not much memory of it.
besides, they are adament in their distinctions between jets and planes.
they prefer the propellers of the slower-moving airplanes, and refuse to let me call jets "planes".
grr.
Their birthday is Thursday...
I'm really excited.
I do hate that their birthday is in July, because I love baking, and in Utah it's almost always in the 90s on their big day, so I refuse to bake a cake.
I buy one, which is such a cop out.
oh well...
mmm....just thinking about cake...and ice cream...makes me...slobber, drool, pant...
why does everything come back to SEX??
remind me to go to Blockbuster more during the day
oh shit--i just remembered something....what is it...?
"...my block buster hit. No, make that a Hollywood Video hit."
but I was talking about something big--something not at all related to movies...using the term "block buster hit" in its original meaning, the one that Blockbuster Video originated from...
shit.
see?
I can't remember squat.
I remember loving it, though.
Thinking it, and being pleased with myself for my delectable cleverosity.
blah.
Anyway, hot guys working at Blockbuster at noon.
make a note of it.
hot and smart.
last night we went to a little impromptu surprise party for a good friend,
and there was talk of a motorcycle trip.
one of the couples have two bikes,
the other couple is getting ready to buy one.
and my husband...
hates motorcycles.
so, there you have it.
the reason that life is not fair is this:
my husband has about 943 of the qualities I would look for in a mate.
but there are still 7 more that I just can't stop wishing he would embody.
(yes, it's a well known fact that exactly 950 items make up a person's character)
damn the luck.
the girl who actually tried to kiss my husband last time we were there gave me the funniest look when I said "He (her husband) better not get a Harley, or I'll probably attack him."
dude, I was just kidding.
I would hump the bike before I would touch him inappropriately.
jeeez.
I also joked that my husband could ride with the woman who has her own bike.
they laughed and then said I would have to ride with her husband,
and there were so many swinging jokes that I swallowed cold.
I was proud of myself for refraining...
Bunch of damn...damn...uh...uh...grownups!!!
yeah, that's the worst insult I could come up with...
it's a fierce one, though.
I am trying not to focus on the fact that I want to write, right now.
That I want to spend every moment my children are asleep here at this desk,
outlining, sketching, filling in...
something long and winding.
something cool and crisp.
something...called a novel.
But instead.
instead...
I cling to every moment that my husband has to spare.
I sit quietly on the bed, watching the seconds tick by on the paused live tv thingy,
and wait for him to finish with yet another business call.
he missed the boys' tee ball game last night
(which was a dooooozy, as far as testing my patience/ability to not beat the shit out of my kids)
and when he got there, I wearily said, to his apology, "It's not your fault. And I'm not allowed to be angry at the people who pay you too much..."
I'm such a damn wuss.
He's not really gone that much, compared to some husbands, I bet.
I just got really used to having him around.
and, in case you missed any of the neon-flashing billboard-sized clues:
I like a lot of attention...
so I feel like an empty blackboard,
waiting to be covered with truths;
a beach of sand ready to be filled with sunbathers and castle-builders;
I feel like a kitchen, used only for re-warming take out...
and.
I want to be under the sea...in an octopus's garden, etc.
aw, now that's a melancholy and PATHETIC way to end a post.
Just wish me a visit from my muse, and some quiet time to record the tawdry event,
and we'll be all set.
happy Tuesday to you.
oh!!!!
well, shit!
why didn't someone remind me??
that'll cheer me up!!!
pictures, pictures!!!!
I'm reading a blogger's novel--
and so far, it is wonderful.
Beautifully written, with a story that is moving along quite nicely...
I don't do reviews, so that's all you get for now.
I had read the blog a handful of times, and found the writing compelling,
besides which I love supporting other bloggers in their creative outlets.
On the treadmill this morning for my warm up,
I noticed this craptastic local morning news show.
Actually, I think the suffix "-tastic" is very misleading, so let me just clarify that:
It sucks hard.
I was thinking of writing them a letter, to alert the producers of this.
I mean, I'm certain they don't already know, otherwise it would have been cancelled.
I've forgotten most of the intended letter,
but the best line stuck with me, "The only thing that saved me from slitting my wrists, was the fact that I had to walk past the remote on my way to the knife drawer."
It is like watching a plate of dry toast cool off.
Or eating that toast.
Or having that toast rubbed all over your oiled-down, naked body...
oops, I got distracted.
it's nothing like that last one.
but suddenly I'm wide awake.
my shoulders feel like sand bags.
that evil little bastard made me watch myself in a mirror while I did a bunch of crap today, and that's just plain mean.
pushing me so hard on Legs day that I puke?
fine, you're just doing your job.
but make me look my fat self in the eye while I grunt????
burn in hell, pilot boy.
oh, yeah, he has his pilot's license, so I'm trying to become good friends with him,
so I can get him to take my little ones for a ride.
I'll pay for the gas and whatever, but do you EVEN know how much my boys talk about
think about
dream about
play with
watch movies about
AIRPLANES?
they've been on commercial jets a few times, but the last time was two years ago,
so they had just turned 3.
i.e.: not much memory of it.
besides, they are adament in their distinctions between jets and planes.
they prefer the propellers of the slower-moving airplanes, and refuse to let me call jets "planes".
grr.
Their birthday is Thursday...
I'm really excited.
I do hate that their birthday is in July, because I love baking, and in Utah it's almost always in the 90s on their big day, so I refuse to bake a cake.
I buy one, which is such a cop out.
oh well...
mmm....just thinking about cake...and ice cream...makes me...slobber, drool, pant...
why does everything come back to SEX??
remind me to go to Blockbuster more during the day
oh shit--i just remembered something....what is it...?
"...my block buster hit. No, make that a Hollywood Video hit."
but I was talking about something big--something not at all related to movies...using the term "block buster hit" in its original meaning, the one that Blockbuster Video originated from...
shit.
see?
I can't remember squat.
I remember loving it, though.
Thinking it, and being pleased with myself for my delectable cleverosity.
blah.
Anyway, hot guys working at Blockbuster at noon.
make a note of it.
hot and smart.
last night we went to a little impromptu surprise party for a good friend,
and there was talk of a motorcycle trip.
one of the couples have two bikes,
the other couple is getting ready to buy one.
and my husband...
hates motorcycles.
so, there you have it.
the reason that life is not fair is this:
my husband has about 943 of the qualities I would look for in a mate.
but there are still 7 more that I just can't stop wishing he would embody.
(yes, it's a well known fact that exactly 950 items make up a person's character)
damn the luck.
the girl who actually tried to kiss my husband last time we were there gave me the funniest look when I said "He (her husband) better not get a Harley, or I'll probably attack him."
dude, I was just kidding.
I would hump the bike before I would touch him inappropriately.
jeeez.
I also joked that my husband could ride with the woman who has her own bike.
they laughed and then said I would have to ride with her husband,
and there were so many swinging jokes that I swallowed cold.
I was proud of myself for refraining...
Bunch of damn...damn...uh...uh...grownups!!!
yeah, that's the worst insult I could come up with...
it's a fierce one, though.
I am trying not to focus on the fact that I want to write, right now.
That I want to spend every moment my children are asleep here at this desk,
outlining, sketching, filling in...
something long and winding.
something cool and crisp.
something...called a novel.
But instead.
instead...
I cling to every moment that my husband has to spare.
I sit quietly on the bed, watching the seconds tick by on the paused live tv thingy,
and wait for him to finish with yet another business call.
he missed the boys' tee ball game last night
(which was a dooooozy, as far as testing my patience/ability to not beat the shit out of my kids)
and when he got there, I wearily said, to his apology, "It's not your fault. And I'm not allowed to be angry at the people who pay you too much..."
I'm such a damn wuss.
He's not really gone that much, compared to some husbands, I bet.
I just got really used to having him around.
and, in case you missed any of the neon-flashing billboard-sized clues:
I like a lot of attention...
so I feel like an empty blackboard,
waiting to be covered with truths;
a beach of sand ready to be filled with sunbathers and castle-builders;
I feel like a kitchen, used only for re-warming take out...
and.
I want to be under the sea...in an octopus's garden, etc.
aw, now that's a melancholy and PATHETIC way to end a post.
Just wish me a visit from my muse, and some quiet time to record the tawdry event,
and we'll be all set.
happy Tuesday to you.
oh!!!!
well, shit!
why didn't someone remind me??
that'll cheer me up!!!
pictures, pictures!!!!
Monday, July 11, 2005
Babies shouldn't even HAVE candy
so I don't feel all that bad taking it from them.
Besides...
I'm sure they don't appreciate the full flavor of a gooey piece of chocolate anyway.
I think their taste buds don't develop until they're 12 or so.
what?
I only took the Almond Joy that was possibly intended for my 9 year old step son because of his rampant apathy upon its offering.
cross my heart and hope to die
(but not for at least 50 years, and preferably while sky diving.)
so, back to my assertion that he must not have fully developed taste buds.
it's the only logical solution.
Today is one of those days...
where I had a great workout, and there are fun plans on the horizon,
and my soul is only tethered to my ridiculously clumsy-by-comparison body by a wisp of silk.
ok, fine, I'm wearing my thong sideways again.
but really...
It's a day when I feel that there is so much living to be done, that I can hardly stand still--
so much to experience that I feel like a dog chasing its tail, or a hamster on a wheel--
but not necessarily a rat in a cage, because, ew--diseases!
I am bursting for it to be my next lifetime,
so that I can run through each day like a river
and pull every last shred of exhilarence out of the air around me...
naw, I don't have to wait until I'm reincarnated.
what I need to do is get my scattered little self into gear and start grabbing my dreams by the balls...
of which the tricky part is to not disrupt the life I'm currently living,
at least not in a manner which would have negative impact on those around me...
besides, I don't think my dreams have conformed with my shaving policy just yet,
so what good would it do me to grab them there if I couldn't follow up with a good long lick?
....see what I mean about being scattered?
sometimes I just want to fall off the cliff of normal life and just nose dive right into the sea of crazy artist-type.
just totally let that weirdness take over.
say random, bizarre, and sometimes disturbing things to strangers at parties.
to speak out loud the thoughts that flit through my head at the speed of light--
or sound?
smell.
what is the speed of smell, anyway?
possibly the amount of time it takes one's stomach to turn after a sharp inhale,
or the distance between one's hand and the sculpted body of that man with the cologne...
hard to say.
I guess we won't be measuring the distance to Mars in units of "the speed of smell" anytime soon.
it's a pity, really.
that would be fucking great!!
and a story, because I haven't written one in a long time:
(all paragraphicalized for ya, even!)
I met him the summer I turned 20. Home from college for the summer, and he was my best friend's brother's best friend--there's a mouthful for you. He was...well, tall dark and handsome, technically, but certainly not in the classic manner. He was all of those things, just...with a sharper edge between his laugh and any reason to cry. His laugh was one of the best things about him--the readiness with which it was offered, the fullness of sound, and accompanying remarks, assuring sincerity. Those eyes...nearly black, but so soft and warm. His hugs are still one on my list of all time favorite experiences.
We spent a lot of time together, in larger groups, that summer. We took our Subarus into the woods and crashed and smashed--over and under, around and through. He shared his great taste in music, and we both acted oblivious to the fact that there could be...should be...something more between us.
One night, as I was closing my eyes, not nearly ready to drift off to sleep, a little scene flashed behind my lids. It was...not a dream because I was still awake, but it was not from my line of conscious thought. I wouldn't call it a vision becuase it sounds too much like clairvoyance or something equally mockable. But it wasn't me. It was a scene in my head, and a feeling settling firmly over me, engulfing me. It was him--his body pressing against mine. I dismissed it as something I had purposely imagined, because it quickly took shape into that sort of fantasy. That began my official crush on him, but it wasn't until I reached the point in the future that I had glimpsed that day, that I realized it was some sort of precognition. To hell with mockable.
New Year's Eve rolled around, over a year later. The temperatures were jaggedly low, but we went to an outdoor celebration, in the Old Port. Fireworks and beer, lots of laughing and hugging. After all the bands and all the walking, home we went, to the loud and crowded party his roommates were having. The tenderness of drunk friends hugging turned quickly to horny friends scrambling to the third floor of that old house, and ending up on the bare wood floor, reaching for condoms, stumbling to the bed. He asked me if things were different, if I lived there instead of here, would I want to be his girlfriend...That was one of the hardest things I had ever had to hear. I loved pretty much everything about him, as a friend, and I was vastly attracted to him. I was always looking for an excuse to leave Utah, and that should have been enough. It wasn't, though.
Dammit, I had big plans for a fictional story, there!!
oh well.
time to either go to the pool or give the kids a nap...
I think I'll pretend to toss a coin, then tuck them into bed!
Besides...
I'm sure they don't appreciate the full flavor of a gooey piece of chocolate anyway.
I think their taste buds don't develop until they're 12 or so.
what?
I only took the Almond Joy that was possibly intended for my 9 year old step son because of his rampant apathy upon its offering.
cross my heart and hope to die
(but not for at least 50 years, and preferably while sky diving.)
so, back to my assertion that he must not have fully developed taste buds.
it's the only logical solution.
Today is one of those days...
where I had a great workout, and there are fun plans on the horizon,
and my soul is only tethered to my ridiculously clumsy-by-comparison body by a wisp of silk.
ok, fine, I'm wearing my thong sideways again.
but really...
It's a day when I feel that there is so much living to be done, that I can hardly stand still--
so much to experience that I feel like a dog chasing its tail, or a hamster on a wheel--
but not necessarily a rat in a cage, because, ew--diseases!
I am bursting for it to be my next lifetime,
so that I can run through each day like a river
and pull every last shred of exhilarence out of the air around me...
naw, I don't have to wait until I'm reincarnated.
what I need to do is get my scattered little self into gear and start grabbing my dreams by the balls...
of which the tricky part is to not disrupt the life I'm currently living,
at least not in a manner which would have negative impact on those around me...
besides, I don't think my dreams have conformed with my shaving policy just yet,
so what good would it do me to grab them there if I couldn't follow up with a good long lick?
....see what I mean about being scattered?
sometimes I just want to fall off the cliff of normal life and just nose dive right into the sea of crazy artist-type.
just totally let that weirdness take over.
say random, bizarre, and sometimes disturbing things to strangers at parties.
to speak out loud the thoughts that flit through my head at the speed of light--
or sound?
smell.
what is the speed of smell, anyway?
possibly the amount of time it takes one's stomach to turn after a sharp inhale,
or the distance between one's hand and the sculpted body of that man with the cologne...
hard to say.
I guess we won't be measuring the distance to Mars in units of "the speed of smell" anytime soon.
it's a pity, really.
that would be fucking great!!
and a story, because I haven't written one in a long time:
(all paragraphicalized for ya, even!)
I met him the summer I turned 20. Home from college for the summer, and he was my best friend's brother's best friend--there's a mouthful for you. He was...well, tall dark and handsome, technically, but certainly not in the classic manner. He was all of those things, just...with a sharper edge between his laugh and any reason to cry. His laugh was one of the best things about him--the readiness with which it was offered, the fullness of sound, and accompanying remarks, assuring sincerity. Those eyes...nearly black, but so soft and warm. His hugs are still one on my list of all time favorite experiences.
We spent a lot of time together, in larger groups, that summer. We took our Subarus into the woods and crashed and smashed--over and under, around and through. He shared his great taste in music, and we both acted oblivious to the fact that there could be...should be...something more between us.
One night, as I was closing my eyes, not nearly ready to drift off to sleep, a little scene flashed behind my lids. It was...not a dream because I was still awake, but it was not from my line of conscious thought. I wouldn't call it a vision becuase it sounds too much like clairvoyance or something equally mockable. But it wasn't me. It was a scene in my head, and a feeling settling firmly over me, engulfing me. It was him--his body pressing against mine. I dismissed it as something I had purposely imagined, because it quickly took shape into that sort of fantasy. That began my official crush on him, but it wasn't until I reached the point in the future that I had glimpsed that day, that I realized it was some sort of precognition. To hell with mockable.
New Year's Eve rolled around, over a year later. The temperatures were jaggedly low, but we went to an outdoor celebration, in the Old Port. Fireworks and beer, lots of laughing and hugging. After all the bands and all the walking, home we went, to the loud and crowded party his roommates were having. The tenderness of drunk friends hugging turned quickly to horny friends scrambling to the third floor of that old house, and ending up on the bare wood floor, reaching for condoms, stumbling to the bed. He asked me if things were different, if I lived there instead of here, would I want to be his girlfriend...That was one of the hardest things I had ever had to hear. I loved pretty much everything about him, as a friend, and I was vastly attracted to him. I was always looking for an excuse to leave Utah, and that should have been enough. It wasn't, though.
Dammit, I had big plans for a fictional story, there!!
oh well.
time to either go to the pool or give the kids a nap...
I think I'll pretend to toss a coin, then tuck them into bed!
Ok, just a couple of quick things---
aw, shit.
could that be as lethal as saying I have nothing to write about?
(cuz...that usually produces several pages...)
well, first of all it's really fucking difficult to type properly while head banging.
I mean, waaaaaaaaay harder than I would have thought.
it's not as if I'm looking at the keyboard to find the letters (i type about 90 wpm)
but for some reason, it throws off myh perception of where the keys are.
int-or-esting.
anywho.
the first thing I feel the need to mention is that I got a new sugar free flavored creamer.
French Vanilla.
oh, it's french alright.
daaaay-um!!
so I put the steaming soft brown liquid to my lips...
and nearly spat it all over the computer--
no, not because I was reading something funny,
or saw something outrageous.
holy christ in a bobsled!!!
it tasted exactly like my husband's armpit!
and, last I checked, there was nothing either remotely french or vanilla about my husband's sweat glands.
well, yeah...except for the obvious "french" connection there.
heh.
anyway, it was very nearly lethal.
so, of course, I just added more of it,
and now it tastes fine.
(no, I don't know what's wrong with me, either, so don't bother asking ME. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves, though--you might come up with something interesting.)
the only copy I could find of "Sad But True" was on the live album of the Salt Lake show (our 4th of that tour...)
I had forgotten that they had to do something funky during that song, cuz it was being used in a movie about Metallica fans.
so there's a bunch of talking at the beginning and a long pause in the middle...
erg.
oh, it's not stopping from thrashing around in my desk chair, but still.
he just said he thought the movie was called The Darwin Awards.
hee.
(hate hate; I'm your hate; I'm your hate when you want love)
hm.
sounds like he's singing about his Shadow.
it's not stopping me from putting it on repeat, though.
this CD also has Blackened, which I had previously neglected to get onto my mp3 player,
so that's a bonus.
I'm sure you all give a shit.
collectively, respectively--
whatever.
I have a couple more pictures I want to post, but I'm wrestling with the idea of how often to post one, because that sorta thing can really change the tone of a site.
trust me, I've done it before.
you know...the whole "love me for my mind not my body" issue.
bleh.
I'm sure my whiney little cunt of an ego will win,
and I'll post them all much too quickly.
hungry damn thing.
I should wean myself of this need for attention...
but that would just be a lose-lose situation,
wouldn't it??
I did get ogled at the pool yesterday,
so that monster should be fine for a few more hours.
I guess I'll do what I always do in situations such as this:
forget to ever make a decision on it, and just do whatever the hell I feel like, whenever the mood strikes me.
it works for me!
Well.
I did have more to say, but I now have 15 minutes to shower, dress, dress my kids and get out the door, so I bet you'll understand if I leave without so much as a goodbye.
could that be as lethal as saying I have nothing to write about?
(cuz...that usually produces several pages...)
well, first of all it's really fucking difficult to type properly while head banging.
I mean, waaaaaaaaay harder than I would have thought.
it's not as if I'm looking at the keyboard to find the letters (i type about 90 wpm)
but for some reason, it throws off myh perception of where the keys are.
int-or-esting.
anywho.
the first thing I feel the need to mention is that I got a new sugar free flavored creamer.
French Vanilla.
oh, it's french alright.
daaaay-um!!
so I put the steaming soft brown liquid to my lips...
and nearly spat it all over the computer--
no, not because I was reading something funny,
or saw something outrageous.
holy christ in a bobsled!!!
it tasted exactly like my husband's armpit!
and, last I checked, there was nothing either remotely french or vanilla about my husband's sweat glands.
well, yeah...except for the obvious "french" connection there.
heh.
anyway, it was very nearly lethal.
so, of course, I just added more of it,
and now it tastes fine.
(no, I don't know what's wrong with me, either, so don't bother asking ME. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves, though--you might come up with something interesting.)
the only copy I could find of "Sad But True" was on the live album of the Salt Lake show (our 4th of that tour...)
I had forgotten that they had to do something funky during that song, cuz it was being used in a movie about Metallica fans.
so there's a bunch of talking at the beginning and a long pause in the middle...
erg.
oh, it's not stopping from thrashing around in my desk chair, but still.
he just said he thought the movie was called The Darwin Awards.
hee.
(hate hate; I'm your hate; I'm your hate when you want love)
hm.
sounds like he's singing about his Shadow.
it's not stopping me from putting it on repeat, though.
this CD also has Blackened, which I had previously neglected to get onto my mp3 player,
so that's a bonus.
I'm sure you all give a shit.
collectively, respectively--
whatever.
I have a couple more pictures I want to post, but I'm wrestling with the idea of how often to post one, because that sorta thing can really change the tone of a site.
trust me, I've done it before.
you know...the whole "love me for my mind not my body" issue.
bleh.
I'm sure my whiney little cunt of an ego will win,
and I'll post them all much too quickly.
hungry damn thing.
I should wean myself of this need for attention...
but that would just be a lose-lose situation,
wouldn't it??
I did get ogled at the pool yesterday,
so that monster should be fine for a few more hours.
I guess I'll do what I always do in situations such as this:
forget to ever make a decision on it, and just do whatever the hell I feel like, whenever the mood strikes me.
it works for me!
Well.
I did have more to say, but I now have 15 minutes to shower, dress, dress my kids and get out the door, so I bet you'll understand if I leave without so much as a goodbye.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
If you'll check your calendar...
you'll notice that it's Sunday.
if you check some instrument that measures how far out in space my thoughts are--
you'll notice that they're beyond the Milky Way...somewhere.
I am dreaming strange dreams, awake, and sleeping unsteadily.
It's probably the heat--
they tell me it's hot outside.
It's as cool as...well, not as cool as the cucumbers in my fridge,
and certainly not as warm as the cucmbers growing in nearby gardens
(if there are any)
but that's the cliche, and I love cliches, so I almost used it.
I guess I didn't, though.
I wrote a post yesterday morning.
One of my famous hangover posts.
It was so full of hippie love crap that I couldn't post it.
I just had a really fucking fantastic time, on our non-double date.
"non", becuase it takes two couples for a double date,
and my husband ended up stuck at work,
only making it back in time to take me home.
I'll try not to get back into my rant about how dreamy and god-like those people were...but it'll be a little difficult...
I'm sure my perception was tainted a bit by the fact that I haven't spent good, quality adult time with even my husband for months...
ok, I exaggerate.
but I crave intelligent human interaction like a pregnant woman craves...
weird shit.
(yeah, that was an awesome metaphor, wasn't it??)
and these two happen to have been born under the star of hospitality and great conversation.
(yes, it's a real star, fucking non-believers. Look on any ass-trology chart.)
I talked too much--about 15% more than I should have, but they were good sports.
(I bet you're all surprised that I am a bit on the chatty side!!)
I learned all sorts of fun stuff about them--
and I would say we came out about even on the TMI scale, so that's good.
hee.
utter social bliss.
see?
what did I tell you??
I'm like a walking advertisement for them!
you better keep an eye on me, or I'll end up going door to door, looking for converts...
oh, in case you didn't notice, I'm celebrating--
today is national parentheses appreciation day.
(join in, why don't ya?)
it's not on the calendar, which is why I didn't mention it at the beginning of the post.
either that or I hadn't started grossly over-using them yet, so there was no need to make up a fake holiday...
I need to go out to my husband's car and find the Metallica CD with "Sad But True" on it.
I keep hearing the end of it on the radio and wanting to push the little "back" button, like on my Tivo...
fucking radio.
I really think Tivo has enriched my life, though.
and it makes me a better person--
(it's true, just ask God.)
if you don't have it, get it.
I just left the coolest message for Becky.
just to clarify, "cool" is somewhere in the range of OPPOSITE of what that message really was.
funny?
yeah, probably.
(to me, at least)
dorky?
definitely, even by Trekkie standards.
I did, however, successfully recite the alphabet backwards,
which I have only attempted at one other time.
and I talked so long that the recording came on and told me politely,
to SHUT THE FUCK UP.
which made me laugh even harder...
cuz I was actually TRYING to see how long I could talk before it would cut me off.
no, no special reason.
It's just that it's Sunday,
I'm on a sugar-hang-over (which equals feeling shitty)
my kids are bowling,
and--
I put a coma there (nope, make that COMMA), in the hopes of having more crap to add to that list, but I have nothing else to say.
...as a part of that sentence, at least.
the moral of that story is: I left a long stupid message for no reason.
yay.
I'm glad I shared that with you all.
ok...
deep breath.
I hope you know it's a great day to be alive.
but then, when is it really a great day to be dead?
I better get busy cleaning up, before the teaming masses get back from bowling.
if you check some instrument that measures how far out in space my thoughts are--
you'll notice that they're beyond the Milky Way...somewhere.
I am dreaming strange dreams, awake, and sleeping unsteadily.
It's probably the heat--
they tell me it's hot outside.
It's as cool as...well, not as cool as the cucumbers in my fridge,
and certainly not as warm as the cucmbers growing in nearby gardens
(if there are any)
but that's the cliche, and I love cliches, so I almost used it.
I guess I didn't, though.
I wrote a post yesterday morning.
One of my famous hangover posts.
It was so full of hippie love crap that I couldn't post it.
I just had a really fucking fantastic time, on our non-double date.
"non", becuase it takes two couples for a double date,
and my husband ended up stuck at work,
only making it back in time to take me home.
I'll try not to get back into my rant about how dreamy and god-like those people were...but it'll be a little difficult...
I'm sure my perception was tainted a bit by the fact that I haven't spent good, quality adult time with even my husband for months...
ok, I exaggerate.
but I crave intelligent human interaction like a pregnant woman craves...
weird shit.
(yeah, that was an awesome metaphor, wasn't it??)
and these two happen to have been born under the star of hospitality and great conversation.
(yes, it's a real star, fucking non-believers. Look on any ass-trology chart.)
I talked too much--about 15% more than I should have, but they were good sports.
(I bet you're all surprised that I am a bit on the chatty side!!)
I learned all sorts of fun stuff about them--
and I would say we came out about even on the TMI scale, so that's good.
hee.
utter social bliss.
see?
what did I tell you??
I'm like a walking advertisement for them!
you better keep an eye on me, or I'll end up going door to door, looking for converts...
oh, in case you didn't notice, I'm celebrating--
today is national parentheses appreciation day.
(join in, why don't ya?)
it's not on the calendar, which is why I didn't mention it at the beginning of the post.
either that or I hadn't started grossly over-using them yet, so there was no need to make up a fake holiday...
I need to go out to my husband's car and find the Metallica CD with "Sad But True" on it.
I keep hearing the end of it on the radio and wanting to push the little "back" button, like on my Tivo...
fucking radio.
I really think Tivo has enriched my life, though.
and it makes me a better person--
(it's true, just ask God.)
if you don't have it, get it.
I just left the coolest message for Becky.
just to clarify, "cool" is somewhere in the range of OPPOSITE of what that message really was.
funny?
yeah, probably.
(to me, at least)
dorky?
definitely, even by Trekkie standards.
I did, however, successfully recite the alphabet backwards,
which I have only attempted at one other time.
and I talked so long that the recording came on and told me politely,
to SHUT THE FUCK UP.
which made me laugh even harder...
cuz I was actually TRYING to see how long I could talk before it would cut me off.
no, no special reason.
It's just that it's Sunday,
I'm on a sugar-hang-over (which equals feeling shitty)
my kids are bowling,
and--
I put a coma there (nope, make that COMMA), in the hopes of having more crap to add to that list, but I have nothing else to say.
...as a part of that sentence, at least.
the moral of that story is: I left a long stupid message for no reason.
yay.
I'm glad I shared that with you all.
ok...
deep breath.
I hope you know it's a great day to be alive.
but then, when is it really a great day to be dead?
I better get busy cleaning up, before the teaming masses get back from bowling.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Is it Friday or FRY day or Frye Day or....
Well, yeah, you get the point.
It's the weekend!!!!!!!!
and tonight, I get to go on a date with my husband.
and, this just in: another couple.
not THAT kind of a date, just--
oh, whatever.
why do I bother trying to explain shit that you already GET?
...don't feel bad, I do that to myself, too...
ah, me and the voices, we have a grand ole time.
screw hubby if he doesn't want to join the party in my head--
hey, as long as he's joining the one in my PANTS, we're all set.
lord help me...
I'm not even jacked up on coffee.
so I have no excuse.
except maybe endorphins.
good workout, etc.
lots eye candy.
I think I've decided my next crush is going to be on an Asian man, with sorta a hard edge...maybe longish hair and a tattoo.
just a little heads up for ya.
okay, so I'll try to rein it in a bit, and make a LITTLE sense...
I could do that for you, right?
because I care and I'm considerate...
and I'm procrastinating.
I'm supposed to call the wife of the other couple and finalize details, but it's our husbands who are friends, I've only met her twice...
YES. I'm shy-ish.
we have the same name, so that should help.
and she's really nice/cool.
and NO i'm not just saying that cuz I know they read this sometimes...
I'm really not, but now I feel like I'm protesting too much.
at least I"ll wait to publish this until after I call...
so I won't worry if she's already read it.
which, of course, is highly unlikely, but still...
active minds have to have SOMETHING to hyperventilate over, right?
right.
ok, so make to making sense...
oh!!
my husband was talking to one of his brothers yesterday,
and brother said, "Loose lips sink ships."
...is it a testament to the utter and complete perversion of my delicate mind that I started laughing at that, because all I could think of was "pussy lips/ship sized cocks"....
loose pussies can hold ship sized cocks!!!!
...yeah...
I'll seek counselling.
I promise.
also...
on the way into the gym today, there were a couple of guys walking in, just behind us.
my boys chose that moment to say, "Nice Penis!!"
both of them, repeatedly--loudly.
oh...god, wherfore art thou???? hast thou fucking forsaken me, or what???
I really wouldn't have laughed if there hadn't been two male witnesses...
but I couldn't help but immediately interpret it from their point of view...
yes, I sorta wanted to die.
they both wandered off muttering, "I hate kids."
ok, so here's something new:
politics.
no, politics aren't new, but ME talking about them???
yes.
new.
I just started leaving this comment yesterday, and couldn't stop, so I brought it here...
Pisser was talking about how Bush biffed it on a bike--again, and reminded us that he's done it before, as well as choking on a damned pretzel.
Karma or god or the balance of the fucking universe--is trying to kill the man.
Because he should never have been president to begin with.
I'd like to know why stupid Al Gore couldn't have been less of a 'tard.
I'm not really a democrat, nor really a republican, but jesus.
IF ONLY.
we were all so dreamily comfortable under Billy Bob's spell that when election time came...
we were all in denial.
I know I was.
I kept saying, "but...can't we just have Clinton again?"
stupid girl, i know.
but...somehow, it really feels cosmically wrong.
neither of those dufuses should have been president.
but who?
who could it have been???
why wasn't there a better choice AND a voting public who was willing to consider it??
That's what's wrong with this country.
everything is democrat or republican.
why not let some more parties in there???
anyway...
I also have to wonder why they haven't solved the "our president looks like a fucking idiot every time he opens his mouth" problem, yet.
ok, so he's a fucking idiot.
fine.
don't tell me he doesn't have access to THE BEST god damned speech writers out there.
and don't tell me SOMEONE couldn't make some shitty cue cards or something.
COME ON.
yes, I watch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart as my main source of news...
bite me.
yes, I realize that wasn't well-thought out, or anything.
but.
there you have it.
mostly, I hope you all have as fantastic of a weekend as I'm planning to,
and get laid, or put out or whatever, ok???
the world's a better place that way, I promise.
It's the weekend!!!!!!!!
and tonight, I get to go on a date with my husband.
and, this just in: another couple.
not THAT kind of a date, just--
oh, whatever.
why do I bother trying to explain shit that you already GET?
...don't feel bad, I do that to myself, too...
ah, me and the voices, we have a grand ole time.
screw hubby if he doesn't want to join the party in my head--
hey, as long as he's joining the one in my PANTS, we're all set.
lord help me...
I'm not even jacked up on coffee.
so I have no excuse.
except maybe endorphins.
good workout, etc.
lots eye candy.
I think I've decided my next crush is going to be on an Asian man, with sorta a hard edge...maybe longish hair and a tattoo.
just a little heads up for ya.
okay, so I'll try to rein it in a bit, and make a LITTLE sense...
I could do that for you, right?
because I care and I'm considerate...
and I'm procrastinating.
I'm supposed to call the wife of the other couple and finalize details, but it's our husbands who are friends, I've only met her twice...
YES. I'm shy-ish.
we have the same name, so that should help.
and she's really nice/cool.
and NO i'm not just saying that cuz I know they read this sometimes...
I'm really not, but now I feel like I'm protesting too much.
at least I"ll wait to publish this until after I call...
so I won't worry if she's already read it.
which, of course, is highly unlikely, but still...
active minds have to have SOMETHING to hyperventilate over, right?
right.
ok, so make to making sense...
oh!!
my husband was talking to one of his brothers yesterday,
and brother said, "Loose lips sink ships."
...is it a testament to the utter and complete perversion of my delicate mind that I started laughing at that, because all I could think of was "pussy lips/ship sized cocks"....
loose pussies can hold ship sized cocks!!!!
...yeah...
I'll seek counselling.
I promise.
also...
on the way into the gym today, there were a couple of guys walking in, just behind us.
my boys chose that moment to say, "Nice Penis!!"
both of them, repeatedly--loudly.
oh...god, wherfore art thou???? hast thou fucking forsaken me, or what???
I really wouldn't have laughed if there hadn't been two male witnesses...
but I couldn't help but immediately interpret it from their point of view...
yes, I sorta wanted to die.
they both wandered off muttering, "I hate kids."
ok, so here's something new:
politics.
no, politics aren't new, but ME talking about them???
yes.
new.
I just started leaving this comment yesterday, and couldn't stop, so I brought it here...
Pisser was talking about how Bush biffed it on a bike--again, and reminded us that he's done it before, as well as choking on a damned pretzel.
Karma or god or the balance of the fucking universe--is trying to kill the man.
Because he should never have been president to begin with.
I'd like to know why stupid Al Gore couldn't have been less of a 'tard.
I'm not really a democrat, nor really a republican, but jesus.
IF ONLY.
we were all so dreamily comfortable under Billy Bob's spell that when election time came...
we were all in denial.
I know I was.
I kept saying, "but...can't we just have Clinton again?"
stupid girl, i know.
but...somehow, it really feels cosmically wrong.
neither of those dufuses should have been president.
but who?
who could it have been???
why wasn't there a better choice AND a voting public who was willing to consider it??
That's what's wrong with this country.
everything is democrat or republican.
why not let some more parties in there???
anyway...
I also have to wonder why they haven't solved the "our president looks like a fucking idiot every time he opens his mouth" problem, yet.
ok, so he's a fucking idiot.
fine.
don't tell me he doesn't have access to THE BEST god damned speech writers out there.
and don't tell me SOMEONE couldn't make some shitty cue cards or something.
COME ON.
yes, I watch The Daily Show with Jon Stewart as my main source of news...
bite me.
yes, I realize that wasn't well-thought out, or anything.
but.
there you have it.
mostly, I hope you all have as fantastic of a weekend as I'm planning to,
and get laid, or put out or whatever, ok???
the world's a better place that way, I promise.
Sleep is for Sissies
That's right.
4 hours for me, and feeling...fine, I think...
While drinking coffee at 8pm didn't strike me as a bad idea...
it shouldn't have struck me as a good one.
But it felt pretty great as I blasted the music and scrubbed away at the kitchen,
polished wood, dusted light fixtures, and took out the trash.
It didn't occur to me to be worried at 11pm, as I merrily folded and put away 4 loads of laundry.
Or at midnight or so as I cheerfuly sucked down my husband's--ahem.
But...
when he turned off the light and nestled into me...
my thoughts were going a mile a minute.
and then I started to suspect...
THREE goddamned A.M. was when I finally closed my eyes.
fucking stupid girl.
I couldn't even focus long enough to masturbate, for chrissakes.
(cuz sometimes that calms one's mind, and yeah, I probably should have just taken Mr.'s offer for a lengthier roll in the hay, but jesus, people it was after midnight and I thought I was tired!!!)
oh well.
at least now I know my limits, re: coffee.
so then, as I was lying in a questionable state of wakefulness, somewhere around 7,
I overheard the following conversation between my boys, across the hall:
Max: it's my turn, you can have it in 12 minutes.
Oliver: THIRTEEN! (indignantly, if that's something a 4 year old is capable of)
Max: (something unintelligible cuz I was laughing)
Oliver: fine, 14!
and to think...last night I was confidently telling the husband that they're going to be rocket scientists...
well.
so much for that.
(if you're thinking stupidity runs in my family--you may be right, but shut the fuck up or I'll stop flashing you!!!!!)
I tried watching Uncle Buck, to fall asleep.
I laughed so loud at the "I'll give you a quarter so you can go downtown and have a rat gnaw that thing off your face!" line that I woke up the husband.
cursed man fell back to sleep before I even stopped laughing.
then...this morning, as I was telling him about my night,
I said, "My brain was just on fire--" and made a little noise to simulate nonstop talking.
he shuddered and said, "I would hate to be trapped inside your head!"
heh.
can't say's I blame him...
ok, time to shower.
and did anyone else notice that this post was saturated with husband and kid stuff???
fuck that.
this is MY blog.
oh, and Rachael, one of my post-sleep delusions included me wearing one of your yet-to-be-made "I'd rather be blogging" t-shirts, and casually--and yet somehow like a spokesman on a "paid programming" show--I would extoll the virtues of blogging to all those who inquired as to what in the frigging hell "blogging" is....
wow, that was a long sentence.
oh and I composed a heart-warming email to Bo Bice, full of praise and wisdom...enthusiastically explaining how, precisely, I would fuck him.
but just as a fan mail sorta thing.
not too creepy, is it?
anyway.
focus, Lisa, focus.
shower.
SHOWER!!!
4 hours for me, and feeling...fine, I think...
While drinking coffee at 8pm didn't strike me as a bad idea...
it shouldn't have struck me as a good one.
But it felt pretty great as I blasted the music and scrubbed away at the kitchen,
polished wood, dusted light fixtures, and took out the trash.
It didn't occur to me to be worried at 11pm, as I merrily folded and put away 4 loads of laundry.
Or at midnight or so as I cheerfuly sucked down my husband's--ahem.
But...
when he turned off the light and nestled into me...
my thoughts were going a mile a minute.
and then I started to suspect...
THREE goddamned A.M. was when I finally closed my eyes.
fucking stupid girl.
I couldn't even focus long enough to masturbate, for chrissakes.
(cuz sometimes that calms one's mind, and yeah, I probably should have just taken Mr.'s offer for a lengthier roll in the hay, but jesus, people it was after midnight and I thought I was tired!!!)
oh well.
at least now I know my limits, re: coffee.
so then, as I was lying in a questionable state of wakefulness, somewhere around 7,
I overheard the following conversation between my boys, across the hall:
Max: it's my turn, you can have it in 12 minutes.
Oliver: THIRTEEN! (indignantly, if that's something a 4 year old is capable of)
Max: (something unintelligible cuz I was laughing)
Oliver: fine, 14!
and to think...last night I was confidently telling the husband that they're going to be rocket scientists...
well.
so much for that.
(if you're thinking stupidity runs in my family--you may be right, but shut the fuck up or I'll stop flashing you!!!!!)
I tried watching Uncle Buck, to fall asleep.
I laughed so loud at the "I'll give you a quarter so you can go downtown and have a rat gnaw that thing off your face!" line that I woke up the husband.
cursed man fell back to sleep before I even stopped laughing.
then...this morning, as I was telling him about my night,
I said, "My brain was just on fire--" and made a little noise to simulate nonstop talking.
he shuddered and said, "I would hate to be trapped inside your head!"
heh.
can't say's I blame him...
ok, time to shower.
and did anyone else notice that this post was saturated with husband and kid stuff???
fuck that.
this is MY blog.
oh, and Rachael, one of my post-sleep delusions included me wearing one of your yet-to-be-made "I'd rather be blogging" t-shirts, and casually--and yet somehow like a spokesman on a "paid programming" show--I would extoll the virtues of blogging to all those who inquired as to what in the frigging hell "blogging" is....
wow, that was a long sentence.
oh and I composed a heart-warming email to Bo Bice, full of praise and wisdom...enthusiastically explaining how, precisely, I would fuck him.
but just as a fan mail sorta thing.
not too creepy, is it?
anyway.
focus, Lisa, focus.
shower.
SHOWER!!!
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Because it's the Tuesday of THIS work week....
Happy Braless non-Tuesday, friends and foes!!
and, just because I'm super nerdy like that:
I figured out that Wednesday at 9pm is the halfway point in a 4-day work week.
(counting from tuesday 9am until friday 5pm)
which means that "hump day" is wednesday night, I guess...
take that for what it's worth.
(yes, I'm realizing that pocket lint is highly valuable in comparison...)
have a good day.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Lately, I'm getting tagged like an unwanted item in a clearance bin...
Of course...this one was a joke,
and my feelings are still TOTALLY hurt.
or is that my middle finger?
(from being flipped so vehemanty at the jokester, get it?)
And I haven't gotten to this one yet, because it'll take some thinking,
and lord knows I avoid THAT like a church on Sunday.
but, this one was fun and easy.
oh, crap.
except for the end part...
more thinking!!
shit.
but I've already started so I must finish...
The “rules” go like this:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog’s name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.
1. Queen of Pink
2. Shellubra
3. Moments in Time
4. Ringmaster Lily
5. Bored Housewife
Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count.
(No one is obligated to participate).
The five people I choose are:
Mona
Sara
Boz
Kiki
Loretta
And finally answer this question:
What five things do you miss about your childhood.
1. Having someone else do all the work...yeah, turns out, my Mom spoiled the SHIT out of me--beautiful dinners every night, pancakes every morning, waking me for school by turning on the light and NOT talking to me, reading to me as a chlid, some of the greatest children's literature ever written, and just plain taking care of all the details. I could go on...but, I guess the point is: I liked being mothered.
2. Catching tadpoles and finding turtles...riding bikes, building that treehouse, exploring the woods, picking wild raspberries...summers in Maine. Making snowmen and not being a whiner about how frigging cold it was, ice skating on the pond, sledding...winters in Maine.
3. crap, I think I listed too many things in each of those. I'm all out...
4.
5.
so, I guess this is why I suck at memes, eh???
I am purely unwilling to do things by a formula.
ok, ok, maybe I'm just an incapable moron.
oh, that reminds me--
I got the most enjoyment yesterday, from a phrase I know I didn't make up, but which I blurted out, anyway:
I'm going to kick you in the rumpus room.
yes, I was talking to my kids.
no, my husband didn't laugh--
not even one of the 5 times I used it...giggling profusely...
AY-parently, it was only funny to me.
ah, well, whatcha gonna do?
...and no, this has nothing to do with the (rather large) bottle of pre-made pina coladas I have in the fridge this week...
or the fact that I have been drinking one (or two...) with dinner for the past few days.
it really doesn't!!
the whole rumpus room...fiasco...happened before dinner.
ahem.
also, it is important to note that I have been wearing my thong sideways all day.
the front part was still in the front, but it seems I put the wrong string up my ass.
no, no drinking.
just pure, unadulterated stupidity.
(although it was rather adult-themed, since we're talking about a thong...)
and no, I don't even want to THINK about what that might say about me, as a person, dammit.
ok.
have I scared enough of you yet?
good.
now scamper off and think happy thoughts before I say anything else stuipd.
Happy Hump Day, ya damn rabbits.
and my feelings are still TOTALLY hurt.
or is that my middle finger?
(from being flipped so vehemanty at the jokester, get it?)
And I haven't gotten to this one yet, because it'll take some thinking,
and lord knows I avoid THAT like a church on Sunday.
but, this one was fun and easy.
oh, crap.
except for the end part...
more thinking!!
shit.
but I've already started so I must finish...
The “rules” go like this:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog’s name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross pollination effect.
1. Queen of Pink
2. Shellubra
3. Moments in Time
4. Ringmaster Lily
5. Bored Housewife
Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count.
(No one is obligated to participate).
The five people I choose are:
Mona
Sara
Boz
Kiki
Loretta
And finally answer this question:
What five things do you miss about your childhood.
1. Having someone else do all the work...yeah, turns out, my Mom spoiled the SHIT out of me--beautiful dinners every night, pancakes every morning, waking me for school by turning on the light and NOT talking to me, reading to me as a chlid, some of the greatest children's literature ever written, and just plain taking care of all the details. I could go on...but, I guess the point is: I liked being mothered.
2. Catching tadpoles and finding turtles...riding bikes, building that treehouse, exploring the woods, picking wild raspberries...summers in Maine. Making snowmen and not being a whiner about how frigging cold it was, ice skating on the pond, sledding...winters in Maine.
3. crap, I think I listed too many things in each of those. I'm all out...
4.
5.
so, I guess this is why I suck at memes, eh???
I am purely unwilling to do things by a formula.
ok, ok, maybe I'm just an incapable moron.
oh, that reminds me--
I got the most enjoyment yesterday, from a phrase I know I didn't make up, but which I blurted out, anyway:
I'm going to kick you in the rumpus room.
yes, I was talking to my kids.
no, my husband didn't laugh--
not even one of the 5 times I used it...giggling profusely...
AY-parently, it was only funny to me.
ah, well, whatcha gonna do?
...and no, this has nothing to do with the (rather large) bottle of pre-made pina coladas I have in the fridge this week...
or the fact that I have been drinking one (or two...) with dinner for the past few days.
it really doesn't!!
the whole rumpus room...fiasco...happened before dinner.
ahem.
also, it is important to note that I have been wearing my thong sideways all day.
the front part was still in the front, but it seems I put the wrong string up my ass.
no, no drinking.
just pure, unadulterated stupidity.
(although it was rather adult-themed, since we're talking about a thong...)
and no, I don't even want to THINK about what that might say about me, as a person, dammit.
ok.
have I scared enough of you yet?
good.
now scamper off and think happy thoughts before I say anything else stuipd.
Happy Hump Day, ya damn rabbits.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Happy 3rd of July, fuckers!
yes, I'm aware that this isn't a holiday of any kind.
but that's not really important...is it?
Today was a beautiful, luxurious kind of day.
I took the little guys to a monstrous playground, shaped like a castle,
with a pirate ship and a dragon.
there were flies, of the dragon and butter variety,
and a clear blue sky.
I got to finish my book,
they got to stretch their imaginations.
the only snag in the day was the fact that I drank
way
too
much
coffee, beforehand.
ah, well.
what can ya do?
that's right--
you can use a public/parks bathroom,
with no toilet paper and no soap.
fuck yes!
my favorite experience.
oh well...
at least there was a toilet.
when we got home, the kids crashed--
and hubby got home just in time for a sweaty, wild afternon romp.
AND we got to watch a couple more episodes of 4400 (on USA, not Sci Fi, pardon me) before they woke up.
bliss, I tell ya, bliss.
the thing I was wondering about in yesterday's post...
was whether I've done the "strong" thing by letting go of the dream of Maine,
(not YOU, ego-kid--hahahaha!)
or whether I have, in fact, given up.
which is, of course, a very
very
bad kind of a thing.
and stuff.
I watched "The Aviator" last night.
enjoyed every second of it.
but somewhere, in the midst of it,
I had a strong sense of something else,
and I jotted it down--
as per everyone's advice th'other day.
I was suddenly imagining...him...
tearing through the night from one sticky-floored, smoke-filled pub to another.
The thought of the company he kept then, far surpassed the darkness of those nights.
It gave me more than a shiver...something long and chilling...to think of him there.
I guess you could say it frightened me.
Sharp edges, rough words.
I wonder...
Would I have recognized him then?
fuck.
this isn't coming out right.
and THAT is the problem with not having a computer permanently attached to my fingertips.
I felt it, last night, so strongly,
this...story?
or whatever it was.
and it's gone now...
I had fucked-up, crazy dreams last night, too.
this knowledge has been creeping through me,
like ivy across a stone wall...
that I'm losing something very important to me.
I don't know...
life is so much more complex than television would have us believe.
and I can never tell when I'm crossing the line of "too selfish"...
I have finally realized that I don't even want to have everything I want,
because half the fun of life is yearning...
but desire is a dangerous beast, as well.
it can seize our hearts and drag us in directions we thought we would never go.
oh, it's not so dramatic--
nor so traumatic--
as it may sound, I promise.
I just know that it's true.
so...
"to yearn or not to yearn?" seems to be a highly pertinent question, really.
to find that balance...
to be satisfied with some things, but still hope for more.
having hope is something that fades in and out...
sometimes I am too well-roundedly satisfied, and the feeling of hope is like a shadow on a cloudy day (faint)...
but other times I am so hungry with hope that I can scarcely keep up with my dreams--
they grow bigger and bigger every day,
blossoming to fill my entire vision--
forcing me to forget all else.
a happy medium would be nice...
or maybe not, right?
the thing I'm losing is my youth, I guess.
hee.
I guess the moral of the story is, I've started to wonder if I've given up on the dreams I had for myself, in order to fit the role I'm in.
now that sounds dramatic.
I don't mean it like that, though.
at least, I don't think I do...
I just...
bah.
I feel so content with this life, that it worries me a little...
does that sound crazy???
yeah...maybe a little.
but I want to hitchhike across the country,
or drive it at least--
in a meandering and writerly fashion.
I want to go sky diving.
I want to travel to any and all continents and corners of the world.
I want to live in the country...
I want to...
chase down every moment of this life, and
dance
laugh
cry
my way through them all, at just the right speed--
not too fast, not too slow.
I want to meet--
everyone.
I want to give everything I have to everyone I know.
(hm...that sounds like an STD joke waiting to happen...)
I want to experience.
period.
so...
I guess I better grab this damn bull by the horns and make damn sure I'm living my life the way I want to.
which sounds far more sassy than I feel---
as I am living my life the way I want to...
just gotta make sure and not leave out the exclamation points, the question marks, the pregnant pauses, I guess.
this life is a steady flow of sentences, statements of fact.
and that's not good enough, baby, no it's not!!!
well, whether this made any sense or not, I'm finished.
good thing it's the weekend, eh?
wouldn't want to lay the heavy stuff out when lots of people are wandering through here!
but that's not really important...is it?
Today was a beautiful, luxurious kind of day.
I took the little guys to a monstrous playground, shaped like a castle,
with a pirate ship and a dragon.
there were flies, of the dragon and butter variety,
and a clear blue sky.
I got to finish my book,
they got to stretch their imaginations.
the only snag in the day was the fact that I drank
way
too
much
coffee, beforehand.
ah, well.
what can ya do?
that's right--
you can use a public/parks bathroom,
with no toilet paper and no soap.
fuck yes!
my favorite experience.
oh well...
at least there was a toilet.
when we got home, the kids crashed--
and hubby got home just in time for a sweaty, wild afternon romp.
AND we got to watch a couple more episodes of 4400 (on USA, not Sci Fi, pardon me) before they woke up.
bliss, I tell ya, bliss.
the thing I was wondering about in yesterday's post...
was whether I've done the "strong" thing by letting go of the dream of Maine,
(not YOU, ego-kid--hahahaha!)
or whether I have, in fact, given up.
which is, of course, a very
very
bad kind of a thing.
and stuff.
I watched "The Aviator" last night.
enjoyed every second of it.
but somewhere, in the midst of it,
I had a strong sense of something else,
and I jotted it down--
as per everyone's advice th'other day.
I was suddenly imagining...him...
tearing through the night from one sticky-floored, smoke-filled pub to another.
The thought of the company he kept then, far surpassed the darkness of those nights.
It gave me more than a shiver...something long and chilling...to think of him there.
I guess you could say it frightened me.
Sharp edges, rough words.
I wonder...
Would I have recognized him then?
fuck.
this isn't coming out right.
and THAT is the problem with not having a computer permanently attached to my fingertips.
I felt it, last night, so strongly,
this...story?
or whatever it was.
and it's gone now...
I had fucked-up, crazy dreams last night, too.
this knowledge has been creeping through me,
like ivy across a stone wall...
that I'm losing something very important to me.
I don't know...
life is so much more complex than television would have us believe.
and I can never tell when I'm crossing the line of "too selfish"...
I have finally realized that I don't even want to have everything I want,
because half the fun of life is yearning...
but desire is a dangerous beast, as well.
it can seize our hearts and drag us in directions we thought we would never go.
oh, it's not so dramatic--
nor so traumatic--
as it may sound, I promise.
I just know that it's true.
so...
"to yearn or not to yearn?" seems to be a highly pertinent question, really.
to find that balance...
to be satisfied with some things, but still hope for more.
having hope is something that fades in and out...
sometimes I am too well-roundedly satisfied, and the feeling of hope is like a shadow on a cloudy day (faint)...
but other times I am so hungry with hope that I can scarcely keep up with my dreams--
they grow bigger and bigger every day,
blossoming to fill my entire vision--
forcing me to forget all else.
a happy medium would be nice...
or maybe not, right?
the thing I'm losing is my youth, I guess.
hee.
I guess the moral of the story is, I've started to wonder if I've given up on the dreams I had for myself, in order to fit the role I'm in.
now that sounds dramatic.
I don't mean it like that, though.
at least, I don't think I do...
I just...
bah.
I feel so content with this life, that it worries me a little...
does that sound crazy???
yeah...maybe a little.
but I want to hitchhike across the country,
or drive it at least--
in a meandering and writerly fashion.
I want to go sky diving.
I want to travel to any and all continents and corners of the world.
I want to live in the country...
I want to...
chase down every moment of this life, and
dance
laugh
cry
my way through them all, at just the right speed--
not too fast, not too slow.
I want to meet--
everyone.
I want to give everything I have to everyone I know.
(hm...that sounds like an STD joke waiting to happen...)
I want to experience.
period.
so...
I guess I better grab this damn bull by the horns and make damn sure I'm living my life the way I want to.
which sounds far more sassy than I feel---
as I am living my life the way I want to...
just gotta make sure and not leave out the exclamation points, the question marks, the pregnant pauses, I guess.
this life is a steady flow of sentences, statements of fact.
and that's not good enough, baby, no it's not!!!
well, whether this made any sense or not, I'm finished.
good thing it's the weekend, eh?
wouldn't want to lay the heavy stuff out when lots of people are wandering through here!
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Saturday....
special.
sporty.
splendid.
serene.
superstitious.
Saturday.
I am filled with stories, today.
Not real ones.
Not like, "boy have I got a story for YOU!"
Nor, "Oh the stories I could tell..."
NOpe.
More like...
sweet little butterflies--
big ugly moths,
swirling around in my head.
waiting to be told,
waiting to be filled in by letters and spaces and punctuation...
I miss the country...
where the porch light drew the most enormous,
brilliantly colored--
but frightening--
moths.
I realized, though...
that maybe I don't have the endurance of the characters in epic poems.
I wonder if my passion is short-lived...
or if I give up too easily.
I cornily yearned to move home,
I ached for it.
I dreamed of it.
I was a tortured soul, in love with the near-suffocating forests,
the vast and cold (temperment and temperature) sea...
the people, who were strong and hard and...
real.
I relentlessly compared this strange place to that Eden of my youth--
let's not forget how much I wanted to get out, while I grew there.
I was a big fish in a small sea, but that made returning so much more inviting.
there were a thousand and twelve issues--
hangups, shoulder-borne chips, complaints, reasons.
but.
I gave up.
somewhere in time...
I don't remember when, exactly, it stopped hurting to not be there.
I don't recall the way it felt to let that ghost drift out of my white-knuckled grasp.
but here we are.
and I'm...seemingly, over it.
I like to think I'll still end up back there someday...
but.
I'm living in the present, now.
and loving it.
Utah's lame, in plethoras upon plethoras of ways...
(that could very possibly be the strangest sentence I've ever come up with--
and may very well be super duper wrong-o, but who's counting? yeah, shut it.)
but I still proudly call it home.
because home really is where the heart is.
somewhere my definition of this shifted...
from:
"Maine is home, and my heart stays there no matter where my body is forced to be."
to:
"Since my heart is with my children and my husband, and they are (however unfortunately) located in Utah, then that is where my heart is."
anyway...
stories.
hmm...
have they flown away?
damn insects.
Hey, has anyone been watching "The 4400", on Sci Fi?
fucking fantastic series.
I teared up like 5 times in the first episode--
they played the whole first season today.
good thing, cuz we just discovered it.
I seriously need to fire that damn secretary I have in my head.
Everytime I have a cool train of thought going,
I lose it before I write it down.
You'd think I could have some little fairy or chimp or microchip--
to take care of that for me.
actually, it's easier to figure out than that...
the kids usually interupt me and even if all i'm doing is thinking of a grocery list,
it's gone and i usually don't even remember that i was thinking about something, let alone that I've now forgotten it.
That's what I get for thinking, I know.
or at least for trying to think with the little dears around.
That's ok, they're worth it.
besides, Kindergarten starts soon...
and with my schedule, I'll only be at school 2 of the 5 days they're at school...
sweet silence!!
yes, I realize I'll be doing homework during that time,
but that's a dream in itself--
I love homework...
(yes, someone please make note of that and shove it in my face when I'm complaining about the workload, wouldja? thanks.)
ok, time to do a superbly Saturday-ish thing,
and take the bow-ees to the playground.
sporty.
splendid.
serene.
superstitious.
Saturday.
I am filled with stories, today.
Not real ones.
Not like, "boy have I got a story for YOU!"
Nor, "Oh the stories I could tell..."
NOpe.
More like...
sweet little butterflies--
big ugly moths,
swirling around in my head.
waiting to be told,
waiting to be filled in by letters and spaces and punctuation...
I miss the country...
where the porch light drew the most enormous,
brilliantly colored--
but frightening--
moths.
I realized, though...
that maybe I don't have the endurance of the characters in epic poems.
I wonder if my passion is short-lived...
or if I give up too easily.
I cornily yearned to move home,
I ached for it.
I dreamed of it.
I was a tortured soul, in love with the near-suffocating forests,
the vast and cold (temperment and temperature) sea...
the people, who were strong and hard and...
real.
I relentlessly compared this strange place to that Eden of my youth--
let's not forget how much I wanted to get out, while I grew there.
I was a big fish in a small sea, but that made returning so much more inviting.
there were a thousand and twelve issues--
hangups, shoulder-borne chips, complaints, reasons.
but.
I gave up.
somewhere in time...
I don't remember when, exactly, it stopped hurting to not be there.
I don't recall the way it felt to let that ghost drift out of my white-knuckled grasp.
but here we are.
and I'm...seemingly, over it.
I like to think I'll still end up back there someday...
but.
I'm living in the present, now.
and loving it.
Utah's lame, in plethoras upon plethoras of ways...
(that could very possibly be the strangest sentence I've ever come up with--
and may very well be super duper wrong-o, but who's counting? yeah, shut it.)
but I still proudly call it home.
because home really is where the heart is.
somewhere my definition of this shifted...
from:
"Maine is home, and my heart stays there no matter where my body is forced to be."
to:
"Since my heart is with my children and my husband, and they are (however unfortunately) located in Utah, then that is where my heart is."
anyway...
stories.
hmm...
have they flown away?
damn insects.
Hey, has anyone been watching "The 4400", on Sci Fi?
fucking fantastic series.
I teared up like 5 times in the first episode--
they played the whole first season today.
good thing, cuz we just discovered it.
I seriously need to fire that damn secretary I have in my head.
Everytime I have a cool train of thought going,
I lose it before I write it down.
You'd think I could have some little fairy or chimp or microchip--
to take care of that for me.
actually, it's easier to figure out than that...
the kids usually interupt me and even if all i'm doing is thinking of a grocery list,
it's gone and i usually don't even remember that i was thinking about something, let alone that I've now forgotten it.
That's what I get for thinking, I know.
or at least for trying to think with the little dears around.
That's ok, they're worth it.
besides, Kindergarten starts soon...
and with my schedule, I'll only be at school 2 of the 5 days they're at school...
sweet silence!!
yes, I realize I'll be doing homework during that time,
but that's a dream in itself--
I love homework...
(yes, someone please make note of that and shove it in my face when I'm complaining about the workload, wouldja? thanks.)
ok, time to do a superbly Saturday-ish thing,
and take the bow-ees to the playground.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Who said Pumpkin pie isn't for breakfast??
and for that matter, who said you're not supposed to make pie on a 90 degree day?
well.
my kids asked for it, and that was enough of an excuse for me to make dessert.
yum.
pumpkin's good for ya.
so is whipped cream...
but that's another story.
the sunburn factory which is my body, is doing well.
rather crispy still, but sex is within my grasp.
I mean relief.
relief is within my grasp.
er.
same thing.
I'm finally ripping a bunch of my CDs to my hard drive so I can put them on the i(mposter)pod.
sure, I've had it for 6 monthes...
that doesn't mean I should be finished with this sort of thing.
can you tell that I keep getting interupted?
my usually meandering train of thought is feeling chopped into pieces,
like an earthworm...
sadly, each new piece is not growing quickly into a new worm, but just lying there--
severed.
heee.
perhaps I was feeling dramatic, just then.
or perhaps I was feeling myself, just then...
you'll never know!
oh sure, you could guess.
and you would probably be wrong.
cuz you're all a bunch of dirty, dirty perverts!!
(ok, fine, you were right. shut up.)
ONE MORE interuption!
I went out to check on the kids...
and walked through mud.
it really doesn't feel as great squishing through one's toes as I had remembered.
and it sure is a bitch to get off!
aw, fuck.
I just remembered I had a ten o'clock appointment at the gym today.
just for the kids, not with the trainer, so it's not a big deal.
it is currently 10:19.
I am un-
showered
dressed
READY.
oh well.
I'll go later.
and tomorrow night we're going to the husband's office, which faces the university
(MY university!!!)
where there will be a huge fireworks display.
his office is on the 13th floor, but we will probably go up to the 25th.
I think it'll be better than fighting traffic.
I love holidays...
and sometimes it's really nice when we don't have anything big planned.
I'm in the mood for low-key this weekend, but who knows what'll pop up.
(should I sit in your lap and we'll talk about the first thing that does?)
Ok, this post is going nowhere fast, and I have just figured out that Napster To Go IS compatible with my gigantic-ass mp3 player, so my $15/mo download-all-you-want has some major catching up to do!!
and that requires my full concentration.
please leave me lists of artists/tracks in the comments.
Happy July, happy Friday, happy Independence Day!!!!
well.
my kids asked for it, and that was enough of an excuse for me to make dessert.
yum.
pumpkin's good for ya.
so is whipped cream...
but that's another story.
the sunburn factory which is my body, is doing well.
rather crispy still, but sex is within my grasp.
I mean relief.
relief is within my grasp.
er.
same thing.
I'm finally ripping a bunch of my CDs to my hard drive so I can put them on the i(mposter)pod.
sure, I've had it for 6 monthes...
that doesn't mean I should be finished with this sort of thing.
can you tell that I keep getting interupted?
my usually meandering train of thought is feeling chopped into pieces,
like an earthworm...
sadly, each new piece is not growing quickly into a new worm, but just lying there--
severed.
heee.
perhaps I was feeling dramatic, just then.
or perhaps I was feeling myself, just then...
you'll never know!
oh sure, you could guess.
and you would probably be wrong.
cuz you're all a bunch of dirty, dirty perverts!!
(ok, fine, you were right. shut up.)
ONE MORE interuption!
I went out to check on the kids...
and walked through mud.
it really doesn't feel as great squishing through one's toes as I had remembered.
and it sure is a bitch to get off!
aw, fuck.
I just remembered I had a ten o'clock appointment at the gym today.
just for the kids, not with the trainer, so it's not a big deal.
it is currently 10:19.
I am un-
showered
dressed
READY.
oh well.
I'll go later.
and tomorrow night we're going to the husband's office, which faces the university
(MY university!!!)
where there will be a huge fireworks display.
his office is on the 13th floor, but we will probably go up to the 25th.
I think it'll be better than fighting traffic.
I love holidays...
and sometimes it's really nice when we don't have anything big planned.
I'm in the mood for low-key this weekend, but who knows what'll pop up.
(should I sit in your lap and we'll talk about the first thing that does?)
Ok, this post is going nowhere fast, and I have just figured out that Napster To Go IS compatible with my gigantic-ass mp3 player, so my $15/mo download-all-you-want has some major catching up to do!!
and that requires my full concentration.
please leave me lists of artists/tracks in the comments.
Happy July, happy Friday, happy Independence Day!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)