No, really, touch me.
Ok that was an intensely offensive visual...
I think I have a touch of the flu.
and why is it that I feel so out of touch, so far behind, lately?
I can't seem to answer emails properly, or comments.
and as for posting?
well.
I would say something more about that, but I believe I'm about ready to either stumble to the bathroom again, or crawl up the stairs to my bed.
"crawl", because today was legs day with my trainer.
bastard.
I really had some stuff to post about today, too.
kids had their Kindergarten assessment today.
they're so damn smart, just thought you should know.
I made the teacher blink when I said, "vascillate".
hehe.
they only asked them to count to FIFTEEN.
?????
my kids can count to 100,
and backwards from 20 and can add a bunch of numbers and--
I'm realizing they were just checking for minimum proficiency,
not taking a measure of how deep their well of knowledge is.
oh well.
I was really hoping they could show off...
I'm starting to feel a bit better...
oh, one thing I left out, about the weekend:
I got my husband an XM radio receiver for his car,
and we listened to it on our long drive.
we fell in love all over again, I tell ya!
...with it, that is.
so...
since he didn't get me a present,
I'm going to get one, too.
although, yesterday I started to tell him what I was going to buy for my present,
and he got a little huffy...
"I'm going to get you something. And you're going to love it!"
er, ok, honey...
now before you jump all over him, let me just state for the record:
I didn't actually mind at all.
we had so much fun, and that's what it's all about anyway--
just loving each other and celebrating that, ya know?
but I'm still going to get myself an XM.
that shit's killer.
you know what's best about it?
no, not the commercial-free part.
no, not the tons of fantastic stations to choose from.
no, not 3 different comedy channels.
the fact that the song and artist are displayed on an LCD screen.
nothing pisses me off more than listening to a song and not knowing who the fuck it is.
except feeling like shit warmed over, and on such a marvelous day!
oh well.
bed it is.
or maybe a blanket with a book, in the backyard...
or.
maybe I'll try to stay coherant and get caught up on my email...
blurg.
don't count on it.
have a happy wednesday, try to hump something/one, and I promise a picture as soon as my hard drive is restored!
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Friday, August 26, 2005
Happyhappyhappyhappy HAPPY anniversary!!
to me.
and hubby.
his gift arrived today!!!
I ordered on on wednesday afternoon, from buy.com.
for only 13 dollars they promised 2-3 day, and i figured it wouldn't make it.
they rock.
oh, and I got this idea from the Absent Minded Housewife (who is a hoot--read her! she's also hot. and she's from here, but lives only nearby now)
yes, it's a digital picture of a snapshot...
I don't have a scanner, ok???
and these are the shoes I wore that day, to come so close to his 6' 3"...
It was a beautiful day, a happy day.
we were supposed to get married on a Schooner in Camden harbor...
but I decided to worry about a hurricaine the almanac had predicted for that week.
stupid girl.
so we got married in a beautiful garden behind the marriott where we had the reception.
it was lovely, but not the same.
AND.
the stupid florist got my bouquet all wrong.
I said no roses.
I said no long traily thing--just a BUNCH, a simple, bouquet.
oh well.
at least I found the perfect shoes, right?
...oh, and the perfect groom.
and hubby.
his gift arrived today!!!
I ordered on on wednesday afternoon, from buy.com.
for only 13 dollars they promised 2-3 day, and i figured it wouldn't make it.
they rock.
oh, and I got this idea from the Absent Minded Housewife (who is a hoot--read her! she's also hot. and she's from here, but lives only nearby now)
yes, it's a digital picture of a snapshot...
I don't have a scanner, ok???
and these are the shoes I wore that day, to come so close to his 6' 3"...
It was a beautiful day, a happy day.
we were supposed to get married on a Schooner in Camden harbor...
but I decided to worry about a hurricaine the almanac had predicted for that week.
stupid girl.
so we got married in a beautiful garden behind the marriott where we had the reception.
it was lovely, but not the same.
AND.
the stupid florist got my bouquet all wrong.
I said no roses.
I said no long traily thing--just a BUNCH, a simple, bouquet.
oh well.
at least I found the perfect shoes, right?
...oh, and the perfect groom.
My mouth is having an orgasm of its own!!!!
Looked like an ordinary, grocery store's bakery cupcake--
with a darth vader thingy stuck into the top.
but, no.
It was the crack cocaine of my world.
I flew back to the pantry as soon as I washed down the first one,
and with shaking hands, tore the package back open and extracted another.
at that moment, I finally "got" it.
drug addicts.
ok, so I still don't understand why you would ever TRY something that is known to destroy lives in the blink of an eye (heroin/crack/meth),
but the inability to cease a behavoir that you know is causing you harm?
yeah, I guess I get that.
but...
they taste so GOOD!!!!!!
white cake...and that super-deluxe, too-rich-for-most white frosting...
I better stop thinking about it or I'll end up guiltily scarfing down a third.
fuckity fuck.
change of subject, quick!
so Sunday is my husband's and my 7th wedding anniversary!
we have a babysitter coming to spend the weekend with our kids,
and we're heading off into the wild blue yonder.
or something.
our plans have remained fairly un-firm, but will probably include the following:
dinner at an amazing steakhouse, a couple of hours north of here.
a day at Bear Lake, with boats and jetskis and parasailing.
shopping for tile and carpet for the basement.
and gifts!!!
I think I know what I'm getting, and I think he knows what he's getting,
but I think...
if I'm right, and if he has guessed right--
we'll both be thrilled with our gifts.
...here's crossing fingers...
I should probably be working on organizing the house for our departure,
or at least packing...
but I had to spend some time with my one true love, first.
yes, the computer.
answering emails, and whatnot...
got one very inspirational email today, in fact.
made me feel intensely patriotic--
and horny.
What if I wasstuipd brave enough to go to Afghanistan or Iraq,
as a journalist?
I would take notes, and interview people.
I would work hard.
...and maybe, juuuust maybe....
I would find a tent to crawl into, a soldier to tease--and please.
I can picture it so clearly, but I'm feeling shy again.
so I won't share.
jesus, this post is lame.
I feel like my brain is sitting on the counter, and I keep looking over at it, wishing it would find its way home, to no avail.
I suppose I could have spiced it up with a few of the images from my head, but oh well.
I'll keep the panting, sweating and moaning to myself today.
with a darth vader thingy stuck into the top.
but, no.
It was the crack cocaine of my world.
I flew back to the pantry as soon as I washed down the first one,
and with shaking hands, tore the package back open and extracted another.
at that moment, I finally "got" it.
drug addicts.
ok, so I still don't understand why you would ever TRY something that is known to destroy lives in the blink of an eye (heroin/crack/meth),
but the inability to cease a behavoir that you know is causing you harm?
yeah, I guess I get that.
but...
they taste so GOOD!!!!!!
white cake...and that super-deluxe, too-rich-for-most white frosting...
I better stop thinking about it or I'll end up guiltily scarfing down a third.
fuckity fuck.
change of subject, quick!
so Sunday is my husband's and my 7th wedding anniversary!
we have a babysitter coming to spend the weekend with our kids,
and we're heading off into the wild blue yonder.
or something.
our plans have remained fairly un-firm, but will probably include the following:
dinner at an amazing steakhouse, a couple of hours north of here.
a day at Bear Lake, with boats and jetskis and parasailing.
shopping for tile and carpet for the basement.
and gifts!!!
I think I know what I'm getting, and I think he knows what he's getting,
but I think...
if I'm right, and if he has guessed right--
we'll both be thrilled with our gifts.
...here's crossing fingers...
I should probably be working on organizing the house for our departure,
or at least packing...
but I had to spend some time with my one true love, first.
yes, the computer.
answering emails, and whatnot...
got one very inspirational email today, in fact.
made me feel intensely patriotic--
and horny.
What if I was
as a journalist?
I would take notes, and interview people.
I would work hard.
...and maybe, juuuust maybe....
I would find a tent to crawl into, a soldier to tease--and please.
I can picture it so clearly, but I'm feeling shy again.
so I won't share.
jesus, this post is lame.
I feel like my brain is sitting on the counter, and I keep looking over at it, wishing it would find its way home, to no avail.
I suppose I could have spiced it up with a few of the images from my head, but oh well.
I'll keep the panting, sweating and moaning to myself today.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
well that was relatively painless...
working out the kinks of the commute will be the worst of it, I think.
with gas prices, traffic, ridiculously few parking options, and a free public transit pass--
I'm pretty sure I'll be bussing it for the most part.
It only takes about ten minutes longer than it would if I drove--
and that's not counting looking for parking, and the additional time spent walking from the far reaches of parking lots that would be available at 9 frigging a.m.
also, not including the trauma I would experience trying to navigate steep roads in the winter--
my feet are much more trustworthy, thank you very much.
there is a train stop right by my freeway on-ramp, so that should do the trick.
yes, I'm sure you're all riveted, but this is particularly new to me--
Maine has no public transit, so it's not something I was ever familiar with,
and I've always had a car since I've lived here.
WHO CARES????
there was a cute boy sitting next to me at the train stop...
I couldn't help but imagine fucking him--
just a flicker on the rusty old projector in my mind.
god...that lean youthful body.
his skateboard tucked into his backback, resting under his feet.
then, the awkwardness of sitting on the train, facing each other, knees almost touching.
wondering if the door to my mind had been left open, and he had seen the movie--
and recognized himself on the sheet of white vinyl, pulled down from a roller above the blackboard...
no, probably not, but it did make it hard to find a place for my gaze to settle.
it wanted to devour him, but instead it darted--
attempting a casual, distant stare, but failing.
listening to "Rise",
nervous about the length of time from downtown to the upper part of the foothills--
not far, really, but how long would it take?
I could have listened longer,
but instead I played tetris on my phone.
nervously.
then, I couldn't find my building--
I'm still a little disgruntled that there wasn't a neon sign,
with ten-foot letters,
declaring "LISA'S HISTORY OF ROCK N' ROLL CLASS", lighting the way around the back of the fine arts museum, and past the sculpture burial ground--
breeding ground?
whichever.
but I found it.
and I was only about 5 minutes late.
fucking pissed me off.
until I realized--
THIS IS A UNIVERSITY.
at 9am.
first day of tues/thurs classes for the semester.
...I'm probably not the only one.
and I wasn't.
class let out early, and I encountered a tall young man on my way up the stairs.
he asked if I knew where the auditorium was.
I pointed back to where I had just come from,
and realized too late that I should have offered to tell him that class had already ended, and to give him the run down--
not like that, ya pervs.
the rundown: there will be 3 exams, an optional final.
his entire outline is on the web, and attendence is a good idea.
yes, my class had its share of hotties for me to ogle.
too bad auditorium seating isn't conducive to ogling.
the class seems like it will be very interesting,
and not a lot of extra work--
which is good, because I'll be spending a lot of time commuting.
I would rather focus on the creative writing class, anyway.
it is one paper, another smaller one, and a discussion group (on the web) per week,
plus 3 larger projects and a final paper.
not toooo bad.
a bunch of reading, and activities, so to ME it sounds like a lot,
but I know better.
it's just a lot more than NOTHING, but definitely manageable.
the prof looks really cool, and I plan to improve my writing a ton.
yes, I'll post all my assignments on the Drawing Board...
and give y'all heads ups if there's something worth reading.
okee dokee.
time to get busy cleaning the house--
hubby was alone in it for all of 2 hours with the kids,
so it is TRASHED.
heh.
with gas prices, traffic, ridiculously few parking options, and a free public transit pass--
I'm pretty sure I'll be bussing it for the most part.
It only takes about ten minutes longer than it would if I drove--
and that's not counting looking for parking, and the additional time spent walking from the far reaches of parking lots that would be available at 9 frigging a.m.
also, not including the trauma I would experience trying to navigate steep roads in the winter--
my feet are much more trustworthy, thank you very much.
there is a train stop right by my freeway on-ramp, so that should do the trick.
yes, I'm sure you're all riveted, but this is particularly new to me--
Maine has no public transit, so it's not something I was ever familiar with,
and I've always had a car since I've lived here.
WHO CARES????
there was a cute boy sitting next to me at the train stop...
I couldn't help but imagine fucking him--
just a flicker on the rusty old projector in my mind.
god...that lean youthful body.
his skateboard tucked into his backback, resting under his feet.
then, the awkwardness of sitting on the train, facing each other, knees almost touching.
wondering if the door to my mind had been left open, and he had seen the movie--
and recognized himself on the sheet of white vinyl, pulled down from a roller above the blackboard...
no, probably not, but it did make it hard to find a place for my gaze to settle.
it wanted to devour him, but instead it darted--
attempting a casual, distant stare, but failing.
listening to "Rise",
nervous about the length of time from downtown to the upper part of the foothills--
not far, really, but how long would it take?
I could have listened longer,
but instead I played tetris on my phone.
nervously.
then, I couldn't find my building--
I'm still a little disgruntled that there wasn't a neon sign,
with ten-foot letters,
declaring "LISA'S HISTORY OF ROCK N' ROLL CLASS", lighting the way around the back of the fine arts museum, and past the sculpture burial ground--
breeding ground?
whichever.
but I found it.
and I was only about 5 minutes late.
fucking pissed me off.
until I realized--
THIS IS A UNIVERSITY.
at 9am.
first day of tues/thurs classes for the semester.
...I'm probably not the only one.
and I wasn't.
class let out early, and I encountered a tall young man on my way up the stairs.
he asked if I knew where the auditorium was.
I pointed back to where I had just come from,
and realized too late that I should have offered to tell him that class had already ended, and to give him the run down--
not like that, ya pervs.
the rundown: there will be 3 exams, an optional final.
his entire outline is on the web, and attendence is a good idea.
yes, my class had its share of hotties for me to ogle.
too bad auditorium seating isn't conducive to ogling.
the class seems like it will be very interesting,
and not a lot of extra work--
which is good, because I'll be spending a lot of time commuting.
I would rather focus on the creative writing class, anyway.
it is one paper, another smaller one, and a discussion group (on the web) per week,
plus 3 larger projects and a final paper.
not toooo bad.
a bunch of reading, and activities, so to ME it sounds like a lot,
but I know better.
it's just a lot more than NOTHING, but definitely manageable.
the prof looks really cool, and I plan to improve my writing a ton.
yes, I'll post all my assignments on the Drawing Board...
and give y'all heads ups if there's something worth reading.
okee dokee.
time to get busy cleaning the house--
hubby was alone in it for all of 2 hours with the kids,
so it is TRASHED.
heh.
A bundle of nerves and excitement--
I think my hands are already starting to shake.
yeah, yeah, you've heard it enough.
I don't have time to write anyway,
so in honor of my first day of college,
here's my school spirit--
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
The ABCs of Sucky things--
ok, I'm not doing the whole alphabet,
and you can all guess that I'm too lazy to even attempt an alphabetical format,
but here's my list:
didn't get to go to Jack Johnson last night.
why?
well, thanks for asking, lemme just tell you--
since we didn't have a babysitter yet on sunday night,
when there were still tickets available, we didn't buy them.
yesterday, when we still didn't have a babysitter,
hubby said I should just go with our friends.
sold out.
we figured I could get one from a scalper, but...
the way the afternoon bled (tumbled?) into evening sort of negated that.
he offered, but there was never a chance to finalize the discussion,
and when it was time for me to go,
he was gone (taking his son home).
I think the true culprit was my PMS, but whatever.
I sulked.
then, just as hubby got back, I somehow managed to open a cupboard into my FACE.
just as the tears of disappointment and "ouch" started to roll, the front door opened,
startling me out of my reverie of sadness.
hubby had some HILARIOUS news to report, immediately,
which was a very difficult gear shift for me,
but I made it.
holy christ in a bubble bath--
that's some good shit.
I can't say who, but someone he knows actually
hired...
a....
HOOKER.
we were astounded and giggling.
I was, frankly, repulsed.
I'm pretty open, in general, but--
A PROSTITUTE???
he's a great looking guy, very smooth with the ladies:
has no trouble getting laid the old-fashioned way.
but apparently this was a new frontier for him.
whatever.
I sort of hated him anyway, since he used his own broken heart to break mine.
(just to clarify, he got divorced and turned his wife against me for no apparent reason)
anyway, I guess that should be filed under the good kind of "Sucky", right?
Ok, so next on the list of suckiness:
not only--
NOT ONLY!!!!
am I being denied hot contractors to drool over/flirt with on this whole "finishing the basement" project, but.
but.
this morning a hot
blonde
WOMAN
showed up.
grrrrrrrr.
hubby answered the door.
"I'm here to work on the basement."
I could hear his excitement as he fumbled over "oh, you're not what I would have expected..."
double grrrrrr.
NOT FAIR.
time to pout again.
I mean, christ!!!!
I should have some eye candy, too!!!
that's only fair!
and with my luck, my god damn History of Rock n Roll class will be devoid of any drool material, too.
c'mon guys--
help a girl out!!!
give me fuel, give me fire,
give me that which I desire:
your handsomeness to look at!
every one of you, post a picture of your smiling selves today--
pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.....
oh, and for anyone ('s grandma) who's wondering?
what's good for the goose is most assuredly NOT god for the fucking gander!!!
m'kay?
got it???
good.
bah.
someday I'll find the perfect combination of rat poison and Comet cleanser to make the PMS fairy stay away for good.
but for now, I'll just have to live with her.
which means you get posts like this.
sorry...
eh, scroll down if you're dissatisfied.
aaaaah...much better.
right?
have a happy wednesday.
and you can all guess that I'm too lazy to even attempt an alphabetical format,
but here's my list:
didn't get to go to Jack Johnson last night.
why?
well, thanks for asking, lemme just tell you--
since we didn't have a babysitter yet on sunday night,
when there were still tickets available, we didn't buy them.
yesterday, when we still didn't have a babysitter,
hubby said I should just go with our friends.
sold out.
we figured I could get one from a scalper, but...
the way the afternoon bled (tumbled?) into evening sort of negated that.
he offered, but there was never a chance to finalize the discussion,
and when it was time for me to go,
he was gone (taking his son home).
I think the true culprit was my PMS, but whatever.
I sulked.
then, just as hubby got back, I somehow managed to open a cupboard into my FACE.
just as the tears of disappointment and "ouch" started to roll, the front door opened,
startling me out of my reverie of sadness.
hubby had some HILARIOUS news to report, immediately,
which was a very difficult gear shift for me,
but I made it.
holy christ in a bubble bath--
that's some good shit.
I can't say who, but someone he knows actually
hired...
a....
HOOKER.
we were astounded and giggling.
I was, frankly, repulsed.
I'm pretty open, in general, but--
A PROSTITUTE???
he's a great looking guy, very smooth with the ladies:
has no trouble getting laid the old-fashioned way.
but apparently this was a new frontier for him.
whatever.
I sort of hated him anyway, since he used his own broken heart to break mine.
(just to clarify, he got divorced and turned his wife against me for no apparent reason)
anyway, I guess that should be filed under the good kind of "Sucky", right?
Ok, so next on the list of suckiness:
not only--
NOT ONLY!!!!
am I being denied hot contractors to drool over/flirt with on this whole "finishing the basement" project, but.
but.
this morning a hot
blonde
WOMAN
showed up.
grrrrrrrr.
hubby answered the door.
"I'm here to work on the basement."
I could hear his excitement as he fumbled over "oh, you're not what I would have expected..."
double grrrrrr.
NOT FAIR.
time to pout again.
I mean, christ!!!!
I should have some eye candy, too!!!
that's only fair!
and with my luck, my god damn History of Rock n Roll class will be devoid of any drool material, too.
c'mon guys--
help a girl out!!!
give me fuel, give me fire,
give me that which I desire:
your handsomeness to look at!
every one of you, post a picture of your smiling selves today--
pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease.....
oh, and for anyone ('s grandma) who's wondering?
what's good for the goose is most assuredly NOT god for the fucking gander!!!
m'kay?
got it???
good.
bah.
someday I'll find the perfect combination of rat poison and Comet cleanser to make the PMS fairy stay away for good.
but for now, I'll just have to live with her.
which means you get posts like this.
sorry...
eh, scroll down if you're dissatisfied.
aaaaah...much better.
right?
have a happy wednesday.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
because there is a beautiful lightening storm moving over us--
and I would rather be outside watching it--
you get a COUPLE of pictures!!!
Ok, so I'm back.
the storm is still a ragin', but I had to update.
the lightening hasn't been very visible,
which is a big disappointment.
HOWEVER.
there have been half-inch blobs of very soft hail...
I would call them snow if I thought I could get away with it,
but you know those damn kids.
it's fucking awesome.
we stood out and marvelled at it,
getting pelted by the mini snow balls, and seeing difused flashes of light somewhere above the low-crawling clouds.
yes, Sara, it does smell great!
it's sort of a dusty smell, here, but a clean one at the same time--
like clean dust--fresh and crisp.
I know it doesn't make sense, but really, how much of this site does???
also, it is important to note, that I just KNOWINGLY took a chug from my back-washed-in water glass.
Max walked up to it, gulped some in, swished it around, and spit it back.
er.
well...
I am drinking coffee, and that makes me super thirsty!!
yes, I may need a moment to go puke.
carry on without me.
so...
Jack Johnson.
a few hours from now...
in an outside venue, just several miles from here.
rain rain go away, come again some other day!!!
...do you hear me, motherfucker???
go.
the fuck.
away!!!!
come back tomorrow.
or later tonight, after my parents are asleep...
I am currently not on speaking terms with all sections of this planet which cause utah to be so far from England.
just an fyi.
stupid god damn eastern and midwestern US and Atlantic Ocean.
In related news...
(no not really, but I love that segue)
my trainer anhilated my abs today.
I panted "keep it up and my Tummy Tuck funds can be diverted to my Buy a Harley foundation." at him.
he laughed.
you shouldn't laugh at your clients when they're close enough to kick you in the crotch.
ok, I didn't.
but I coulda...
and that guy with the incredible ink was there again.
I see him a lot.
he's very tall, and colorful.
I just thought of something--
he's probably in a band.
something made me want to draw attention to the words on my shirt as we walked past each other, but I suppose the Ds accomplish that.
doubt he saw, though.
oh, and I'm going to have to continue renting from Blockbuster, even though we signed up with Netflix (again).
no, no reason...
hawt. boy. working. alone. pant-pant...
they seem to have friendly and knowledgeable staff.
and I like to support the local economy.
jeeez, I guess I'm ovulating or something!!
ok, time to make cookies--
you get a COUPLE of pictures!!!
Ok, so I'm back.
the storm is still a ragin', but I had to update.
the lightening hasn't been very visible,
which is a big disappointment.
HOWEVER.
there have been half-inch blobs of very soft hail...
I would call them snow if I thought I could get away with it,
but you know those damn kids.
it's fucking awesome.
we stood out and marvelled at it,
getting pelted by the mini snow balls, and seeing difused flashes of light somewhere above the low-crawling clouds.
yes, Sara, it does smell great!
it's sort of a dusty smell, here, but a clean one at the same time--
like clean dust--fresh and crisp.
I know it doesn't make sense, but really, how much of this site does???
also, it is important to note, that I just KNOWINGLY took a chug from my back-washed-in water glass.
Max walked up to it, gulped some in, swished it around, and spit it back.
er.
well...
I am drinking coffee, and that makes me super thirsty!!
yes, I may need a moment to go puke.
carry on without me.
so...
Jack Johnson.
a few hours from now...
in an outside venue, just several miles from here.
rain rain go away, come again some other day!!!
...do you hear me, motherfucker???
go.
the fuck.
away!!!!
come back tomorrow.
or later tonight, after my parents are asleep...
I am currently not on speaking terms with all sections of this planet which cause utah to be so far from England.
just an fyi.
stupid god damn eastern and midwestern US and Atlantic Ocean.
In related news...
(no not really, but I love that segue)
my trainer anhilated my abs today.
I panted "keep it up and my Tummy Tuck funds can be diverted to my Buy a Harley foundation." at him.
he laughed.
you shouldn't laugh at your clients when they're close enough to kick you in the crotch.
ok, I didn't.
but I coulda...
and that guy with the incredible ink was there again.
I see him a lot.
he's very tall, and colorful.
I just thought of something--
he's probably in a band.
something made me want to draw attention to the words on my shirt as we walked past each other, but I suppose the Ds accomplish that.
doubt he saw, though.
oh, and I'm going to have to continue renting from Blockbuster, even though we signed up with Netflix (again).
no, no reason...
hawt. boy. working. alone. pant-pant...
they seem to have friendly and knowledgeable staff.
and I like to support the local economy.
jeeez, I guess I'm ovulating or something!!
ok, time to make cookies--
Monday, August 22, 2005
No time to blog
but that doesn't stop me!!!!
I have two fabulous girlies coming over for lunch--
which they're bringing, so how do you beat THAT?
and I need to shower, dress my kids properly (they dress themselves and oboy, is that funnny),
and run out to rent them a movie/pick them up happy meals--
a bribe to keep them in their room so I can ENJOY my lunch.
also, one of the girls is newly pregnant with twins, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for an abortion...
tomorrow night?
JACK JOHNSON.
with a whole bunch of friends.
should be marvelous.
outside.
5 minutes from my house.
fuck yes.
now, to find a babysitter...
I nearly had heart palpitations today,
when looking up my on-campus class to see which building it's in.
I noticed a note, something to the effect of: must be concurrently enrolled in blah blah blah, and must be a music major.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
then I blinked, and looked again.
phew.
mine is music 2100.
that was music 2110.
praise the lord.
the class is taught in the Fine Arts Museum auditorium, so that's a little scary.
I am just hoping it's not entirely the wrong class for me.
I guess I should find a couple of alternative classes, in case I have to do a quick drop and add session, eh?
also, I checked the train schedule, to see if I should use that instead of trying to find parking (which I've heard is worse than impossible)...
it looks do-able.
we'll see.
oh!
and I have to find a drop-in daycare for the kids for the first 3 days of my class.
breathe, LIsa, breathe.
no...not that fast...
hey, back off--
you have to remember, I've been at home for FIVE YEARS.
no schedule, no outside babysitters (except for a few brief months where I tried to work from home, and took the boys to my friend's house for a few huors a week... but that was totally not on-schedule of any kind, either)
before the kiddies?
I was a firecracker.
I worked 80 hour weeks, much of the time, with no problem.
I even went to school and worked full-time for much of that time.
so I know how to be busy.
I know how to juggle.
it's just been a really fucking long time,
and I now have a husband and two kids and a huge hosue to clean...
erg.
it's ok.
trust me, I know most people have more to manage.
It's just a change, ok???
and I have to adjust to it.
then it'll be cool.
i'm cool.
it's cool.
ok.
so.
off to the shower with me.
possibly a picture later.
feeling rather...braless today.
happy monday, future sex slaves of mine--
I have two fabulous girlies coming over for lunch--
which they're bringing, so how do you beat THAT?
and I need to shower, dress my kids properly (they dress themselves and oboy, is that funnny),
and run out to rent them a movie/pick them up happy meals--
a bribe to keep them in their room so I can ENJOY my lunch.
also, one of the girls is newly pregnant with twins, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for an abortion...
tomorrow night?
JACK JOHNSON.
with a whole bunch of friends.
should be marvelous.
outside.
5 minutes from my house.
fuck yes.
now, to find a babysitter...
I nearly had heart palpitations today,
when looking up my on-campus class to see which building it's in.
I noticed a note, something to the effect of: must be concurrently enrolled in blah blah blah, and must be a music major.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
then I blinked, and looked again.
phew.
mine is music 2100.
that was music 2110.
praise the lord.
the class is taught in the Fine Arts Museum auditorium, so that's a little scary.
I am just hoping it's not entirely the wrong class for me.
I guess I should find a couple of alternative classes, in case I have to do a quick drop and add session, eh?
also, I checked the train schedule, to see if I should use that instead of trying to find parking (which I've heard is worse than impossible)...
it looks do-able.
we'll see.
oh!
and I have to find a drop-in daycare for the kids for the first 3 days of my class.
breathe, LIsa, breathe.
no...not that fast...
hey, back off--
you have to remember, I've been at home for FIVE YEARS.
no schedule, no outside babysitters (except for a few brief months where I tried to work from home, and took the boys to my friend's house for a few huors a week... but that was totally not on-schedule of any kind, either)
before the kiddies?
I was a firecracker.
I worked 80 hour weeks, much of the time, with no problem.
I even went to school and worked full-time for much of that time.
so I know how to be busy.
I know how to juggle.
it's just been a really fucking long time,
and I now have a husband and two kids and a huge hosue to clean...
erg.
it's ok.
trust me, I know most people have more to manage.
It's just a change, ok???
and I have to adjust to it.
then it'll be cool.
i'm cool.
it's cool.
ok.
so.
off to the shower with me.
possibly a picture later.
feeling rather...braless today.
happy monday, future sex slaves of mine--
Sunday, August 21, 2005
too much crying for a sunday morning--
goddamn LIFETIME channel!
and He should also throw a little damning at my husband for choosing that show.
It was really good--the true story of a girl who was homeless and went to Harvard.
but, DAAAAAAAAAAMN, I didn't need to start my day like that.
I teared up every 30 seconds, like clockwork.
stupid lifetime channel.
and THEN, he flipped to Tennis--
Roddick and Federer.
grrrrr-owl.
Oh!
and who's with me on favorite ad campaign of the year/possibly decade?
Enzyte.
"this is bob. bob is looking cool, and with a call to enzyte about natural male enhancement, bob is livin' large....blah blah blah...Generous swelling of pride. blah blah blah a big spring in his step."
I am not ashamed to admit that I usually rewind that one a few times,
for the extra giggles.
4 more days until my first college class in ten years.
last night, I dreamed that I had a french class that I kept skipping,
and the textbook was in my locker, for which I had forgotten the combination.
I was also trying to throw a big going away part for Red!!!
all the guests were arriving, but the crabs (a subconcious reminder of my recent trip to Maryland) I was planning to serve kept skittering off...
crazy dreams.
I did, however, throw a mostly-successful dinner last night for some friends, and their 2 kids (and brand new baby).
the highlights:
perfectly marinated and grilled chicken,
garlic mashed potatoes,
corn on the cob,
that strawberry-melon salad (that I'll make once for every set of friends before getting sick of it myself),
and Boston Cream Pie--from scratch.
the reasons it was "mostly" successful:
hubby's 4pm "it'll only take a minute" work thingy, lasted until 7:30. fucker.
I counted 8 guests, and thought I had purchased 8 years of corn (nope, make that EARS), but...my overlooked step-son made 9, and the bag of corn revealed only 7 years. (jesus, I did it again!!)
and I was waiting for Mr. Husband to light the grill, but since he didn't show up until we were finishing our meal, I had to ask the other husband to light it...and supervise the chicken, since I always over-cook out of chicken-cootie fear, and he's a fantastic chef (some of my best recipes have come from him!)
I would say that's all for the "bad" list.
We had a nice evening, overall, and at least my husband actually made it this time--
as opposed to the time I went on a double date with another friend of his/friend's wife by myself.
and now it's time to take the kidlets to the pool.
hope you're having a happy and Lifetime Channel-free Sunday!!!!
and He should also throw a little damning at my husband for choosing that show.
It was really good--the true story of a girl who was homeless and went to Harvard.
but, DAAAAAAAAAAMN, I didn't need to start my day like that.
I teared up every 30 seconds, like clockwork.
stupid lifetime channel.
and THEN, he flipped to Tennis--
Roddick and Federer.
grrrrr-owl.
Oh!
and who's with me on favorite ad campaign of the year/possibly decade?
Enzyte.
"this is bob. bob is looking cool, and with a call to enzyte about natural male enhancement, bob is livin' large....blah blah blah...Generous swelling of pride. blah blah blah a big spring in his step."
I am not ashamed to admit that I usually rewind that one a few times,
for the extra giggles.
4 more days until my first college class in ten years.
last night, I dreamed that I had a french class that I kept skipping,
and the textbook was in my locker, for which I had forgotten the combination.
I was also trying to throw a big going away part for Red!!!
all the guests were arriving, but the crabs (a subconcious reminder of my recent trip to Maryland) I was planning to serve kept skittering off...
crazy dreams.
I did, however, throw a mostly-successful dinner last night for some friends, and their 2 kids (and brand new baby).
the highlights:
perfectly marinated and grilled chicken,
garlic mashed potatoes,
corn on the cob,
that strawberry-melon salad (that I'll make once for every set of friends before getting sick of it myself),
and Boston Cream Pie--from scratch.
the reasons it was "mostly" successful:
hubby's 4pm "it'll only take a minute" work thingy, lasted until 7:30. fucker.
I counted 8 guests, and thought I had purchased 8 years of corn (nope, make that EARS), but...my overlooked step-son made 9, and the bag of corn revealed only 7 years. (jesus, I did it again!!)
and I was waiting for Mr. Husband to light the grill, but since he didn't show up until we were finishing our meal, I had to ask the other husband to light it...and supervise the chicken, since I always over-cook out of chicken-cootie fear, and he's a fantastic chef (some of my best recipes have come from him!)
I would say that's all for the "bad" list.
We had a nice evening, overall, and at least my husband actually made it this time--
as opposed to the time I went on a double date with another friend of his/friend's wife by myself.
and now it's time to take the kidlets to the pool.
hope you're having a happy and Lifetime Channel-free Sunday!!!!
Friday, August 19, 2005
Can't think of a title, so bite me
I am currently without water, due to contractors,
(which reminds me, I forgot to get back to Mona's blog)
In-fucking-credible!!!
go read her Breast Tribute Poetry!
I'm sooo gonna make out with her someday.
Today has been one of those days...
one of those gloriously sunshiney-from-the-inside days.
I started it right, so that helps.
Pancakes with fresh strawberries and whipped cream,
2 perfectly fried eggs,
2 tiny strips of pre-cooked bacon
(never fails to remind me of the SNL skit with short-term memory man-- "Blegh! I didn't order pre-chewed food!!")
freshly ground chocolate coffee
fresh squeeze OJ...
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh....
life.
is.
fucking GREAT.
so then I took the kids to do some errands, and it went really well.
why?
because today I instituted a points system.
my math-obsessed sons are eating it up--gobbling it, I tell ya!
this could be my salvation...
instead of time-outs for every little thing, it's points.
and whatever level of points they end the day with, determines the level of luxuries they get the next day--
computer usage, tv, dvds, special toys, desserts.
gotta work out the details and make a chart...
but they love it, so far.
AND.
the best news of all:
my Oliver showed me where the missing screw to my sewing machine was...
stuffed into the innards of the machine,
but it works!
Especially those of you in California, please, please...
go read this, and do whatever you can to help.
I don't ask for much around here, but it would sure make my day if you would all offer some support to a crushingly important bill.
There are no reasons NOT to pass this bill.
And millions of precious little girl ones TO pass the bill.
Thanks...
and have a great weekend.
(or else.)
(which reminds me, I forgot to get back to Mona's blog)
In-fucking-credible!!!
go read her Breast Tribute Poetry!
I'm sooo gonna make out with her someday.
Today has been one of those days...
one of those gloriously sunshiney-from-the-inside days.
I started it right, so that helps.
Pancakes with fresh strawberries and whipped cream,
2 perfectly fried eggs,
2 tiny strips of pre-cooked bacon
(never fails to remind me of the SNL skit with short-term memory man-- "Blegh! I didn't order pre-chewed food!!")
freshly ground chocolate coffee
fresh squeeze OJ...
aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh....
life.
is.
fucking GREAT.
so then I took the kids to do some errands, and it went really well.
why?
because today I instituted a points system.
my math-obsessed sons are eating it up--gobbling it, I tell ya!
this could be my salvation...
instead of time-outs for every little thing, it's points.
and whatever level of points they end the day with, determines the level of luxuries they get the next day--
computer usage, tv, dvds, special toys, desserts.
gotta work out the details and make a chart...
but they love it, so far.
AND.
the best news of all:
my Oliver showed me where the missing screw to my sewing machine was...
stuffed into the innards of the machine,
but it works!
Especially those of you in California, please, please...
go read this, and do whatever you can to help.
I don't ask for much around here, but it would sure make my day if you would all offer some support to a crushingly important bill.
There are no reasons NOT to pass this bill.
And millions of precious little girl ones TO pass the bill.
Thanks...
and have a great weekend.
(or else.)
I have at least 8 other blogs,
but I never write on them.
I have one devoted to my kids,
and it gets updates occasionally.
and I have one for writing stories on--
never.
and I have one for this.
and one for that.
I've just found that I would rather put everything in one place.
there is less mental clutter that way, for one thing.
"What did you just say?"
The chill that ran through my entire body and set my hair on end wasn't a good one.
"I asked if you had ever stood at the top of a mountain and--"
"Yeah. I heard you." I stared at him, now wondering if it was my eyes that were playing tricks on me. Similar, yes, but...much older, and with darker hair. And the handsomness was markedly lacking, as well. But just as my eyes lost focus, and a slow-motion blink cleared my senses, I got that chill again.
"Baby...?" I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.
He nodded, slowly, and winked.
I am tired.
today was a long, but good day.
(just like tommy lee)
and didn't include nearly enough drinking--
none, in fact.
but I guess, for a thursday, that ain't bad.
I did, however, receive 2 of my 3 textbooks in the mail today.
I didn't know "expedidited shipping" meant they were going to toss those puppies on a first class flight, with no layovers!
thank ya, half.com.
I get to learn about the joys of reading and writing poetry.
as well as study the art of the tale.
...I'm pretty good with the art of tail, already--
bah dum ching!
two goals:
tummy tuck.
motorcycle.
are either of those things proper mommy goals???
nope.
but I can still read the best children's literature to my handsome little ones every night, and play silly games with them, while teaching them to find strong women attractive, so that's a win-win, pretty much.
wondered, today, if the kid working at the 7-11, with the longish hair and the child's face, was a NIN fan, or if it was just on the radio...
and did he see my lips moving?
my fingers tapping?
that's the narcissist in me...imagining that my every move is being carefully examined--
I fancy myself a frog on a disection tray.
but I'm not...
I'm far less amphibious,
far less formaldahyde-laced,
and.
far less dead.
my anniversary is soon.
7 years.
I'm getting the hubby xm radio, because he's been DYING to get it.
If he asks, tell him I want a pair of diamond studs
(either earrings or Chip'n'Dales, no preference)
a massage,
ok, now I'm stuck.
cuz all I can think of is the massage--
and the fact that I don't really want the earrings, but it was a funny line, so I'm leaving it in!
I want to be crazy enough that no one blames me for hitchhiking cross country one day on a whim.
I want to go to sleep now.
remind me to lock all the doors...
and remind me that my ability to make delicious desserts will not fill up the sadness hole inside of me...
I have one devoted to my kids,
and it gets updates occasionally.
and I have one for writing stories on--
never.
and I have one for this.
and one for that.
I've just found that I would rather put everything in one place.
there is less mental clutter that way, for one thing.
"What did you just say?"
The chill that ran through my entire body and set my hair on end wasn't a good one.
"I asked if you had ever stood at the top of a mountain and--"
"Yeah. I heard you." I stared at him, now wondering if it was my eyes that were playing tricks on me. Similar, yes, but...much older, and with darker hair. And the handsomness was markedly lacking, as well. But just as my eyes lost focus, and a slow-motion blink cleared my senses, I got that chill again.
"Baby...?" I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.
He nodded, slowly, and winked.
I am tired.
today was a long, but good day.
(just like tommy lee)
and didn't include nearly enough drinking--
none, in fact.
but I guess, for a thursday, that ain't bad.
I did, however, receive 2 of my 3 textbooks in the mail today.
I didn't know "expedidited shipping" meant they were going to toss those puppies on a first class flight, with no layovers!
thank ya, half.com.
I get to learn about the joys of reading and writing poetry.
as well as study the art of the tale.
...I'm pretty good with the art of tail, already--
bah dum ching!
two goals:
tummy tuck.
motorcycle.
are either of those things proper mommy goals???
nope.
but I can still read the best children's literature to my handsome little ones every night, and play silly games with them, while teaching them to find strong women attractive, so that's a win-win, pretty much.
wondered, today, if the kid working at the 7-11, with the longish hair and the child's face, was a NIN fan, or if it was just on the radio...
and did he see my lips moving?
my fingers tapping?
that's the narcissist in me...imagining that my every move is being carefully examined--
I fancy myself a frog on a disection tray.
but I'm not...
I'm far less amphibious,
far less formaldahyde-laced,
and.
far less dead.
my anniversary is soon.
7 years.
I'm getting the hubby xm radio, because he's been DYING to get it.
If he asks, tell him I want a pair of diamond studs
(either earrings or Chip'n'Dales, no preference)
a massage,
ok, now I'm stuck.
cuz all I can think of is the massage--
and the fact that I don't really want the earrings, but it was a funny line, so I'm leaving it in!
I want to be crazy enough that no one blames me for hitchhiking cross country one day on a whim.
I want to go to sleep now.
remind me to lock all the doors...
and remind me that my ability to make delicious desserts will not fill up the sadness hole inside of me...
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
WHAT'S THAT SMELL???
Oh...
It's just my hair.
Little grill fire.
no big whoop.
(scared the BEJEEBUS out of me, though!)
got my eyebrows, my eyelashes--
and, yes the front of my hair.
good lord.
just what I needed.
and daaaaamn that smells bad!
I'm leaving it.
Even though I'm super late....
I should have been at the gym already...
but I couldn't bear the thought of that whiney-ass post staying at the top for any longer!!
Instead, all I've got is a dream about Tommy Lee--
surprise, surprise,
and a tale I won't tell of sweet and quick morning sex.
quick is how I like it, by the way-
because I never, ever get have that.
quick means under an hour...
and it was very very nice.
just right.
also, our neighbor is a huge, pulsating bitch.
and I'm sure she is destined to continue chaffing my soft, white ass for the rest of the time we live here.
I don't doubt it'll get worse.
apparently one of our sprinkler heads is pointed at her fence, to get the grass that is next to her damn fence.
she is claiming that it hits the side of her house, including a rain gutter and into one of her window wells.
we've turned it on and checked.
it's not.
so the wind must be blowing it or something, if it is, in fact hitting her house.
we adjusted it, so that it doesn't even touch her fence,
but I'm sure the wind will still have its way from time to time,
and we'll get another angry visit.
she's a fucking uptight moron.
it's WATER.
it's not going to damage your damned stucco.
it RAINS HERE.
for much longer, and much harder than a few minutes of a sprinkler which is placed so far from her house that it's only the very tips of the spray that could hit it.
she's one of those people who can never be satisfied--
if we didn't have sprinklers, she would be mad that our grass never looked good,
just like when she yelled at my husband for getting grass clippings in her side of the fence...
okaaaaaaaaaaaaay, but if we didn't mow, you'd be mad, too, so FUCK right OFF, bitch!
ahem.
I feel better now...
but, I do have two kids for sale.
they are driving me...crazier than I already am!!!
I guess that means I should get off my ass (which, frankly, could stand to be a little bigger to offset the gut) and get on with my day.
gym, fabric store, grocery store.
uhboy, this should be fun.
I need...
ok, fine, I'll post a picture.
I'm not braless, and I might have posted it before, but suck it up.
I'm not your stepping stone,
I'm not your beast of burden,
I'm not your mama.
...huh?
but I couldn't bear the thought of that whiney-ass post staying at the top for any longer!!
Instead, all I've got is a dream about Tommy Lee--
surprise, surprise,
and a tale I won't tell of sweet and quick morning sex.
quick is how I like it, by the way-
because I never, ever get have that.
quick means under an hour...
and it was very very nice.
just right.
also, our neighbor is a huge, pulsating bitch.
and I'm sure she is destined to continue chaffing my soft, white ass for the rest of the time we live here.
I don't doubt it'll get worse.
apparently one of our sprinkler heads is pointed at her fence, to get the grass that is next to her damn fence.
she is claiming that it hits the side of her house, including a rain gutter and into one of her window wells.
we've turned it on and checked.
it's not.
so the wind must be blowing it or something, if it is, in fact hitting her house.
we adjusted it, so that it doesn't even touch her fence,
but I'm sure the wind will still have its way from time to time,
and we'll get another angry visit.
she's a fucking uptight moron.
it's WATER.
it's not going to damage your damned stucco.
it RAINS HERE.
for much longer, and much harder than a few minutes of a sprinkler which is placed so far from her house that it's only the very tips of the spray that could hit it.
she's one of those people who can never be satisfied--
if we didn't have sprinklers, she would be mad that our grass never looked good,
just like when she yelled at my husband for getting grass clippings in her side of the fence...
okaaaaaaaaaaaaay, but if we didn't mow, you'd be mad, too, so FUCK right OFF, bitch!
ahem.
I feel better now...
but, I do have two kids for sale.
they are driving me...crazier than I already am!!!
I guess that means I should get off my ass (which, frankly, could stand to be a little bigger to offset the gut) and get on with my day.
gym, fabric store, grocery store.
uhboy, this should be fun.
I need...
ok, fine, I'll post a picture.
I'm not braless, and I might have posted it before, but suck it up.
I'm not your stepping stone,
I'm not your beast of burden,
I'm not your mama.
...huh?
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Knock Knock--
who's there?
go fuck yourself.
har.
sorry, it's just that it got such a warm reaction yesterday, that I had to try it again...
although, that implies it was a first--
au contraire, mes freres...
check the archives.
sometimes I say it everyday.
yeah, that's right.
I'm a badass mutha fucka.
or something.
so...
Tommy Lee goes to College?
greatest.
reality show.
EVER.
(period.)
besides the fact that he's so hot I got a sunburn just from watching his show,
and has a cock to be envied by horses,
um...where was I?
dunno, but the point is: yum.
oh, and I'm not the only one!
the Chancellor's secretary, who was at least 60, shares my opinion.
("...my first impression of him was that he is, um...very handsome, to be honest.")
well, I don't know how she feels about his cock, but I'm sure there will be an uncesored version of this show, and she'll give it an enthusiastic 2 thumbs up....
anywho.
I was saying besides the eye-candy factor, the show has some great comedic potential.
AND.
I think they should do a reality show of ME.
The Boredhousewife Goes to College!!
it's going to be almost as funny as a 40-year-old rock star...
and I'll be even more out of place!
hah.
nah, not in Utah.
I'm sure most of my other classmates will have children, too.
drywall goes up in the basement tomorrow.
everything is looking good so far.
Isolation...
like a deaf and blind woman standing in the middle of a sidewalk during rush hour in a big city...
I feel the world moving around me--
smell it, even.
but I am not a part of it.
It does not pass through me.
alone.
solitude amid the throngs,
makes me crumble.
wishing he had more to give--
more self to lend, more heart to be engulfed by.
to curl up and sob,
or stand up and shout?
neither.
press onward.
refusing to be ignored is hard to pull off, without a tantrum.
deep breaths.
what happened to me?
where did I go?
I think the waves of him have crashed over me for so long, that my sharp edges, my definitions of self have been worn smooth--
a prettier stone I am now, seaglass, perhaps...
and much, much stronger than that girl I was.
Thirty is not old at all.
stop thinking about everything.
today felt like Thursday,
but yesterday felt like Friday...
and so.
I forgot braless tuesday.
wasn't really in the mood anyway.
I'm sleepy.
I don't believe in the delete key,
so you get the mish-mash, barely-coherant post...
sorry darlings.
maybe I'll drink coffee in the morning and you'll get a better post.
maybe not.
oh, I think I found the culprit:
I'm listening to my classical music playlist on the ole i(mposter)pod.
fucking mozart.
quit making me smarter, dammit!!!!
sleep tight.
or loose.
...whichever.
go fuck yourself.
har.
sorry, it's just that it got such a warm reaction yesterday, that I had to try it again...
although, that implies it was a first--
au contraire, mes freres...
check the archives.
sometimes I say it everyday.
yeah, that's right.
I'm a badass mutha fucka.
or something.
so...
Tommy Lee goes to College?
greatest.
reality show.
EVER.
(period.)
besides the fact that he's so hot I got a sunburn just from watching his show,
and has a cock to be envied by horses,
um...where was I?
dunno, but the point is: yum.
oh, and I'm not the only one!
the Chancellor's secretary, who was at least 60, shares my opinion.
("...my first impression of him was that he is, um...very handsome, to be honest.")
well, I don't know how she feels about his cock, but I'm sure there will be an uncesored version of this show, and she'll give it an enthusiastic 2 thumbs up....
anywho.
I was saying besides the eye-candy factor, the show has some great comedic potential.
AND.
I think they should do a reality show of ME.
The Boredhousewife Goes to College!!
it's going to be almost as funny as a 40-year-old rock star...
and I'll be even more out of place!
hah.
nah, not in Utah.
I'm sure most of my other classmates will have children, too.
drywall goes up in the basement tomorrow.
everything is looking good so far.
Isolation...
like a deaf and blind woman standing in the middle of a sidewalk during rush hour in a big city...
I feel the world moving around me--
smell it, even.
but I am not a part of it.
It does not pass through me.
alone.
solitude amid the throngs,
makes me crumble.
wishing he had more to give--
more self to lend, more heart to be engulfed by.
to curl up and sob,
or stand up and shout?
neither.
press onward.
refusing to be ignored is hard to pull off, without a tantrum.
deep breaths.
what happened to me?
where did I go?
I think the waves of him have crashed over me for so long, that my sharp edges, my definitions of self have been worn smooth--
a prettier stone I am now, seaglass, perhaps...
and much, much stronger than that girl I was.
Thirty is not old at all.
stop thinking about everything.
today felt like Thursday,
but yesterday felt like Friday...
and so.
I forgot braless tuesday.
wasn't really in the mood anyway.
I'm sleepy.
I don't believe in the delete key,
so you get the mish-mash, barely-coherant post...
sorry darlings.
maybe I'll drink coffee in the morning and you'll get a better post.
maybe not.
oh, I think I found the culprit:
I'm listening to my classical music playlist on the ole i(mposter)pod.
fucking mozart.
quit making me smarter, dammit!!!!
sleep tight.
or loose.
...whichever.
Monday, August 15, 2005
How many needles could they shove in my mouth???
Ok, to be fair, it was probably only one.
but it poked me in like FOUR places!
why the hell didn't anyone remind me that they use large, sharp needles to numb the mouth for cavity filligs???
gah.
it sucked.
and it was still numb-ish when I met Deidra for lunch.
interesting, trying to chew on one side and not drool out the other...
I think it worked--
either that or she is an even better friend than I thought!!
(and she already scores like a 43--out of 10)
and.
I went to campus and got my photo ID...
deep breaths, deep breaths...
It hasn't hit me yet, but don't worry, you'll hear about it when it does!!
my head is swimming.
this post was a total waste of my time and yours.
I apologize.
but really, you could go fuck yourself.
but it poked me in like FOUR places!
why the hell didn't anyone remind me that they use large, sharp needles to numb the mouth for cavity filligs???
gah.
it sucked.
and it was still numb-ish when I met Deidra for lunch.
interesting, trying to chew on one side and not drool out the other...
I think it worked--
either that or she is an even better friend than I thought!!
(and she already scores like a 43--out of 10)
and.
I went to campus and got my photo ID...
deep breaths, deep breaths...
It hasn't hit me yet, but don't worry, you'll hear about it when it does!!
my head is swimming.
this post was a total waste of my time and yours.
I apologize.
but really, you could go fuck yourself.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
I signed in, to post, but then...
I got distracted.
that happens.
a...
lot?
yeah.
more than a little, but usually it's the posting that distracts me.
from...
online banking or looking up song lyrics (The Cult's "Rise" is even better than I thought)
but anyway.
tonight I was distracted by taking a survey for blogger,
then by my investigation of
and attempt at
mobile blogging.
seems sprint is having downtime, so I'll have to wait.
mostly, though?
mostly...I'm trying to not think scary thoughts.
just watched a scary movie with hubby--
right up until the second he had to leave for a midnight install.
(yes, they pay him enough to do that sort of thing.)
see, he installs enterprise storage and sometimes his customers need to actually schedule downtime for him to do his thing.
and since they are revenue-driven companies (are there any other kind??),
they choose saturday, midnight.
blurg.
he knew about it ahead of time, but it still totally fucked up our date.
we needed a good date, too.
instead...
we shopped for fixtures for the new part of the house (my idea),
and he was crabby from sleeping all afternoon while somehow still consuming far too many mini reese's pb cups.
(many mini--you know they sound alike when said fast, don't deny it!)
and then we went downtown for dinner--
even though his grumpiness made him resist the idea at first.
the eveing was...
nice.
but...
filled with too many trains of thought racing past each other on parallel tracks.
his words lulling me, my words closing him up--absently, not coldly.
his work is too complex for me,
like chewing tough meat, my brain aches from the sound of "connectivity issues" and "redundancy";
it is new enough to him still that he must vocalize to learn better, so I listen--
gladly, I listen.
but it's not the same as conversation.
I hope he doesn't read this...
I love him so much, you know.
I don't talk about that here, because it's too private, too intimate, too real.
we saw a woman, my age probably, riding a Harley tonight.
I felt a surge--
that's me.
he agreed that I should get one, not him.
he hates them.
and I will.
someday.
I don't fucking belong in Utah, though.
jesus christ, I don't.
sure, I'm happy here.
but only because I'm happy.
but it's like trying to wear your shoes backwards.
...you'd have to be retarded to try it, right?
yeah.
this isn't my world and I don't know how to teach my kids to survive in it.
bah, who am I kidding???
they'll be fine.
as long as I hold on, and ignore the wrongness of this place as hard as I can.
what a whiner I am, right?
this isn't even a city, but I feel so crowded, so jostled, so agoraphobic. (however you spell that.)
I want solitude.
chilly mornings with dried leaves and a mist rolling across the lake.
wool sweaters and ice skating ponds.
snow days.
more reasons to complain, but less desire to.
and have I mentioned lately that I'm scared shitless about all the changes that will be diving head first into my quiet, peaceful life in less than 2 weeks?????
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
yes, yes I have.
if you could all just tell me one more time that everything will be fine...?
that would be greeaaaat.
my babies!!!!!
off to REAL school!!!!!
fuckity fucking shit, that scares me!
not really...just...getting it all out.
they're sooo little!!!
how in the WORLD is it possible that they're going to be let out into the big bad world?
should I take a deep breath?
ten?
ok.
maybe a good cry, or--
a SHOPPING TRIP!!
ah, I knew there had to be a silver lining here:
school shopping.
for them and for me,
though I'll go alone (praise jesus).
and I'll get that brown corduroy blazer, after all.
and some nice, respectable jeans.
yes, that means tight in all the right places.
heh.
dinner was marvelous.
we ate at a restaurant that is not only NOT a (goddamn motherfucking) chain,
but it has been around for almost 100 years.
it's really beautiful inside, and there was a harpist playing for the evening.
the fish was soooo good, and the dessert even better.
it felt good to be in the city, rather than the suburbs-which-feel-like-a-city-to-me.
we couldn't go to a movie because hubby had to work.
we couldn't go to the comedy club, because " " " "
we were both too sleepy anyway, but we couldn't go to the bar for the same reason.
but at least his response to my awed, "look how beautiful the sky is!" was "Nice smog."
not much of a poet...
but I know that he would be, for me.
everything he has learned about life, or how to live, he has learned by his own observations, and taught to himself.
...which is how I can take partial credit for his greatness at husbandry.
yes, that was a double entendre.
next semester, French class.
I could probably study up and test out of it, since I already learned once all the things they are going to teach me.
but I probably won't.
am I done yet?
I don't know...
are the boogie men gone?
oh!!!!
I have a new book to read.
books keep away the shadows of stupid scary movies.
(they're not stupid, I am...for watching them!)
a snack, possibly.
and a book.
yes.
bed.
and I feel much better now...
thanks for listening.
that happens.
a...
lot?
yeah.
more than a little, but usually it's the posting that distracts me.
from...
online banking or looking up song lyrics (The Cult's "Rise" is even better than I thought)
but anyway.
tonight I was distracted by taking a survey for blogger,
then by my investigation of
and attempt at
mobile blogging.
seems sprint is having downtime, so I'll have to wait.
mostly, though?
mostly...I'm trying to not think scary thoughts.
just watched a scary movie with hubby--
right up until the second he had to leave for a midnight install.
(yes, they pay him enough to do that sort of thing.)
see, he installs enterprise storage and sometimes his customers need to actually schedule downtime for him to do his thing.
and since they are revenue-driven companies (are there any other kind??),
they choose saturday, midnight.
blurg.
he knew about it ahead of time, but it still totally fucked up our date.
we needed a good date, too.
instead...
we shopped for fixtures for the new part of the house (my idea),
and he was crabby from sleeping all afternoon while somehow still consuming far too many mini reese's pb cups.
(many mini--you know they sound alike when said fast, don't deny it!)
and then we went downtown for dinner--
even though his grumpiness made him resist the idea at first.
the eveing was...
nice.
but...
filled with too many trains of thought racing past each other on parallel tracks.
his words lulling me, my words closing him up--absently, not coldly.
his work is too complex for me,
like chewing tough meat, my brain aches from the sound of "connectivity issues" and "redundancy";
it is new enough to him still that he must vocalize to learn better, so I listen--
gladly, I listen.
but it's not the same as conversation.
I hope he doesn't read this...
I love him so much, you know.
I don't talk about that here, because it's too private, too intimate, too real.
we saw a woman, my age probably, riding a Harley tonight.
I felt a surge--
that's me.
he agreed that I should get one, not him.
he hates them.
and I will.
someday.
I don't fucking belong in Utah, though.
jesus christ, I don't.
sure, I'm happy here.
but only because I'm happy.
but it's like trying to wear your shoes backwards.
...you'd have to be retarded to try it, right?
yeah.
this isn't my world and I don't know how to teach my kids to survive in it.
bah, who am I kidding???
they'll be fine.
as long as I hold on, and ignore the wrongness of this place as hard as I can.
what a whiner I am, right?
this isn't even a city, but I feel so crowded, so jostled, so agoraphobic. (however you spell that.)
I want solitude.
chilly mornings with dried leaves and a mist rolling across the lake.
wool sweaters and ice skating ponds.
snow days.
more reasons to complain, but less desire to.
and have I mentioned lately that I'm scared shitless about all the changes that will be diving head first into my quiet, peaceful life in less than 2 weeks?????
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
yes, yes I have.
if you could all just tell me one more time that everything will be fine...?
that would be greeaaaat.
my babies!!!!!
off to REAL school!!!!!
fuckity fucking shit, that scares me!
not really...just...getting it all out.
they're sooo little!!!
how in the WORLD is it possible that they're going to be let out into the big bad world?
should I take a deep breath?
ten?
ok.
maybe a good cry, or--
a SHOPPING TRIP!!
ah, I knew there had to be a silver lining here:
school shopping.
for them and for me,
though I'll go alone (praise jesus).
and I'll get that brown corduroy blazer, after all.
and some nice, respectable jeans.
yes, that means tight in all the right places.
heh.
dinner was marvelous.
we ate at a restaurant that is not only NOT a (goddamn motherfucking) chain,
but it has been around for almost 100 years.
it's really beautiful inside, and there was a harpist playing for the evening.
the fish was soooo good, and the dessert even better.
it felt good to be in the city, rather than the suburbs-which-feel-like-a-city-to-me.
we couldn't go to a movie because hubby had to work.
we couldn't go to the comedy club, because " " " "
we were both too sleepy anyway, but we couldn't go to the bar for the same reason.
but at least his response to my awed, "look how beautiful the sky is!" was "Nice smog."
not much of a poet...
but I know that he would be, for me.
everything he has learned about life, or how to live, he has learned by his own observations, and taught to himself.
...which is how I can take partial credit for his greatness at husbandry.
yes, that was a double entendre.
next semester, French class.
I could probably study up and test out of it, since I already learned once all the things they are going to teach me.
but I probably won't.
am I done yet?
I don't know...
are the boogie men gone?
oh!!!!
I have a new book to read.
books keep away the shadows of stupid scary movies.
(they're not stupid, I am...for watching them!)
a snack, possibly.
and a book.
yes.
bed.
and I feel much better now...
thanks for listening.
Friday, August 12, 2005
another quiet night in "paradise"
I am feeling dark and deep--
but not the kind of deep that people nod somberly in respect to.
I am...fettered by my life,
yet freed through it.
I am too easily distracted by sweet nothings--
and even moreso by sweet somethings.
the drive home, with a
pinkish
blueish
purpleish sky lying heavily on dark smudges of tall mountains--
not equilateral triangles with a carefully uneven fringe of white across the top 1/3,
like the pictures I drew as a kid...
would still draw now, if I drew.
can't draw worth a shit.
but I always thought I would make a great modern artist--
splash of red here, flick some blue there:
this is my impression of a taxi driver on a rainy day.
no?
you don't see it?
well fuck you then, it's ART.
I should try that with writing.
I guess maybe I do...
I think I am sick of a few things.
not the mountains.
not glorious, wonderful, soul-filling friends.
not my life.
not 99% of my life, at least.
but I did realize today that I am 20% larger than I would like to be.
so I guess it's just a math problem, really.
Lisa
subtract 850 desserts a week
times more rigor at the gym (with less gawking at fucking beautiful men/glaring at fucking beautiful women)
equals
80% of the current Lisa
yes.
I can see it.
a masterpiece in shades of green.
There is a saddness ebbing its way out of me, toward the shore--
or the horizon?
which one is the ebb tide?
my uncle's lobster boat was named that,
but it doesn't help me remember.
dad's was the Sting Ray.
they called him Hurricaine Bob cuz he was crazy enough to go out in the most heinous of weather.
that's my dad.
I am so much like him it scares me.
not even just some of the time.
my shoulders ache.
my legs are sore.
I feel hollowish, but giant-sized.
becky said I'm not.
she should know.
but my horoscope said not to believe what people say about me--
and that the more pleasing those things are, the less stock I should put in them.
fucking NICE horoscope.
fuckers.
god damned stars.
I heard the rumble of Harleys today, and whispered your name.
you didn't answer, but I knew you wouldn't.
there are too many lives and miles, pressed against each other,
making sound waves stop, shrug their shoulders, and turn around---
Someday.
They say someday never comes, but I don't believe them.
I feel the wind in my hair, taste the dust of the road--
then open my eyes and wonder what my sheets are doing on the back of a bike.
I am now wondering what time it is,
and considering bed.
I feel...
like black and white.
(but not red/read all over)
this post tastes like saltines to me,
but not in a bad way.
I don't know what that means.
monotone,
monochrome,
monogamous.
I just needed to clear my head...
seems to be the running theme for me this week.
and I seem to have forgotten how to answer comments.
I still read, cherish, contemplate them--
and I promise I'll do better.
several of you asked about Bunco.
it's a dice game, which is basically a reason to get together once a month.
I think it's the Bridge of our generation.
I have had very little social contact for a lot of the time I've lived here,
or at least chances to meet new people,
so it has been really fun for me.
My college friends all moved away,
and my work friends sort of scattered,
and that was only the first 5 years I lived here...
these last 5, I've been at home.
full time.
so...I've had only my husbad's high school friends and their wives to connect with. they're good...
but it's complicated and I'm tired, so the short story is:
we don't really see any of them anymore.
and besides, I love men--I love everything from hanging out with them, to fucking them,
but women are my first love.
GOOD women, smart, funny, warm, wonderful women are what make me a better person.
I have discovered a marked lack of that particular variety in Utah, in fact,
(and so many here, in InternetLand!!!)
but slowly I am finding more dear girlfriends, and in the process, finding myself again--
my SELF.
not Lisa the mother,
not Lisa the wife.
Lisa.
What a strange thing to hear one's own name and feel it.
stranger still to hear "mom" directed at oneself...
so, so, so disconnected I am sometimes.
with parts of me lying in heaps around a cluttered attic--
like a cleaning/organiztional party interupted or abandoned...
cleaning an attic, in the summer, on Summer St...
in Maine.
15? probably.
with Taylor, stripping down to our bras to combat the heat.
feeling so wild for taking such action, so silly, too.
Jasmine and I, caravaning from Maine to Utah for the start of our...
sophomore year? yes.
driving topless from fucking nebraska to goddamn wyoming--stupid waste of space.
thanks for the corn!
yikes.
I just breathed in some saliva and nearly choked to death.
that's my biggest nightmare, by the way...
to be alone in the house, or driving, and choke.
to death.
good thing I don't dwell on it.
I looked up the psychiatric definition of narcissism...
thank GOD I only fit about half the characteristics.
but, hey, it could be worse.
besides, I really do kick ass.
so why shouldn't I obsess over it...?
(yes, that's me, rolling on the floor, laughing so hard it hurts--or is that just from rolling around on ceramic TILE??)
on that note, I'm off to bed.
but not the kind of deep that people nod somberly in respect to.
I am...fettered by my life,
yet freed through it.
I am too easily distracted by sweet nothings--
and even moreso by sweet somethings.
the drive home, with a
pinkish
blueish
purpleish sky lying heavily on dark smudges of tall mountains--
not equilateral triangles with a carefully uneven fringe of white across the top 1/3,
like the pictures I drew as a kid...
would still draw now, if I drew.
can't draw worth a shit.
but I always thought I would make a great modern artist--
splash of red here, flick some blue there:
this is my impression of a taxi driver on a rainy day.
no?
you don't see it?
well fuck you then, it's ART.
I should try that with writing.
I guess maybe I do...
I think I am sick of a few things.
not the mountains.
not glorious, wonderful, soul-filling friends.
not my life.
not 99% of my life, at least.
but I did realize today that I am 20% larger than I would like to be.
so I guess it's just a math problem, really.
Lisa
subtract 850 desserts a week
times more rigor at the gym (with less gawking at fucking beautiful men/glaring at fucking beautiful women)
equals
80% of the current Lisa
yes.
I can see it.
a masterpiece in shades of green.
There is a saddness ebbing its way out of me, toward the shore--
or the horizon?
which one is the ebb tide?
my uncle's lobster boat was named that,
but it doesn't help me remember.
dad's was the Sting Ray.
they called him Hurricaine Bob cuz he was crazy enough to go out in the most heinous of weather.
that's my dad.
I am so much like him it scares me.
not even just some of the time.
my shoulders ache.
my legs are sore.
I feel hollowish, but giant-sized.
becky said I'm not.
she should know.
but my horoscope said not to believe what people say about me--
and that the more pleasing those things are, the less stock I should put in them.
fucking NICE horoscope.
fuckers.
god damned stars.
I heard the rumble of Harleys today, and whispered your name.
you didn't answer, but I knew you wouldn't.
there are too many lives and miles, pressed against each other,
making sound waves stop, shrug their shoulders, and turn around---
Someday.
They say someday never comes, but I don't believe them.
I feel the wind in my hair, taste the dust of the road--
then open my eyes and wonder what my sheets are doing on the back of a bike.
I am now wondering what time it is,
and considering bed.
I feel...
like black and white.
(but not red/read all over)
this post tastes like saltines to me,
but not in a bad way.
I don't know what that means.
monotone,
monochrome,
monogamous.
I just needed to clear my head...
seems to be the running theme for me this week.
and I seem to have forgotten how to answer comments.
I still read, cherish, contemplate them--
and I promise I'll do better.
several of you asked about Bunco.
it's a dice game, which is basically a reason to get together once a month.
I think it's the Bridge of our generation.
I have had very little social contact for a lot of the time I've lived here,
or at least chances to meet new people,
so it has been really fun for me.
My college friends all moved away,
and my work friends sort of scattered,
and that was only the first 5 years I lived here...
these last 5, I've been at home.
full time.
so...I've had only my husbad's high school friends and their wives to connect with. they're good...
but it's complicated and I'm tired, so the short story is:
we don't really see any of them anymore.
and besides, I love men--I love everything from hanging out with them, to fucking them,
but women are my first love.
GOOD women, smart, funny, warm, wonderful women are what make me a better person.
I have discovered a marked lack of that particular variety in Utah, in fact,
(and so many here, in InternetLand!!!)
but slowly I am finding more dear girlfriends, and in the process, finding myself again--
my SELF.
not Lisa the mother,
not Lisa the wife.
Lisa.
What a strange thing to hear one's own name and feel it.
stranger still to hear "mom" directed at oneself...
so, so, so disconnected I am sometimes.
with parts of me lying in heaps around a cluttered attic--
like a cleaning/organiztional party interupted or abandoned...
cleaning an attic, in the summer, on Summer St...
in Maine.
15? probably.
with Taylor, stripping down to our bras to combat the heat.
feeling so wild for taking such action, so silly, too.
Jasmine and I, caravaning from Maine to Utah for the start of our...
sophomore year? yes.
driving topless from fucking nebraska to goddamn wyoming--stupid waste of space.
thanks for the corn!
yikes.
I just breathed in some saliva and nearly choked to death.
that's my biggest nightmare, by the way...
to be alone in the house, or driving, and choke.
to death.
good thing I don't dwell on it.
I looked up the psychiatric definition of narcissism...
thank GOD I only fit about half the characteristics.
but, hey, it could be worse.
besides, I really do kick ass.
so why shouldn't I obsess over it...?
(yes, that's me, rolling on the floor, laughing so hard it hurts--or is that just from rolling around on ceramic TILE??)
on that note, I'm off to bed.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
The picture is coming...
(then you can, too.)
ha.
I have just made an emergency run to Office Max for a new keyboard--
since mine inexplicably bit the dust last night.
This is a lovely keyboard, and it's even spillproof, which is exceptional news.
the only problem is...
the "enter" key (which I use a LOT) is over too far...
my hands are fairly small, and it's hard to reach.
the stupid "\" key is riiiight where my old enter key was.
so...
I might have to deliberately break this keyboard so I can go get a new one.
return it?
wha--?
that's something that normal people would do.
pas moi.
and why?
because it would be too easy.
oh jesus.
this is annoying.
anyone got an extra finger??
so last night was my turn to host our Bunco group.
and might I say...
it was a smashing success??
see...
before my life was turned upside down by my husband's suggestion that we "go off birth control and see what happens."
(OHH!!! So that's what happens! Faack...)
Uh...where was I?
oh yeah--during the pre children era (PCA) I used to really enjoy cooking big meals and entertaining.
but after the little bundles came screeching (literally) into my life,
it became a matter of survival to do as little as possible when hosting an event.
So...
yesterday I made strawberry and melon salad with a homemade poppyseed orange juice dressing (sounds weird, but trust me)
and grilled chicken fajitas with homemade guacamole
and german chocolate cake from scratch.
AND.
the skirt I was wearing got a lot of compliments, to which I replied, "Thanks, I made it."
let's just say, I didn't have to show anyone my tits, and I still got a swelled head.
heh.
oooh, and I got some amazing new shampoo from the salon I bought the prizes from.
...I had to!!
they were having a sale.
anyway, it was a fabulous night, and I couldn't have done it without Becky--
who is the best damn partner a girl could hope for--she chopped and sliced and diced
we laughed, we cried--
well, she did, due to the onions.
and best of all, we drank Twisted Tea.
it's like a hard lemonade or whatever, but iced tea flavored.
iced tea with alky-haul.
my mouth is watering just thinking about it...
Aw, fuck.
it's time for the gym.
and this post is as dry as a week old loaf of homeade wheat bread.
I think I depleted my stores of funny and charming last night...
now I'm late for the gym.
pictures in 2 hours.
They don't look like Ds to me.
In fact, they don't feel like Ds, either.
speak up, I didn't hear you...
what?
let YOU be the judge of that??
humph.
I don't think so.
I mean, you gotta at least buy me a drink.
heh.
ha.
I have just made an emergency run to Office Max for a new keyboard--
since mine inexplicably bit the dust last night.
This is a lovely keyboard, and it's even spillproof, which is exceptional news.
the only problem is...
the "enter" key (which I use a LOT) is over too far...
my hands are fairly small, and it's hard to reach.
the stupid "\" key is riiiight where my old enter key was.
so...
I might have to deliberately break this keyboard so I can go get a new one.
return it?
wha--?
that's something that normal people would do.
pas moi.
and why?
because it would be too easy.
oh jesus.
this is annoying.
anyone got an extra finger??
so last night was my turn to host our Bunco group.
and might I say...
it was a smashing success??
see...
before my life was turned upside down by my husband's suggestion that we "go off birth control and see what happens."
(OHH!!! So that's what happens! Faack...)
Uh...where was I?
oh yeah--during the pre children era (PCA) I used to really enjoy cooking big meals and entertaining.
but after the little bundles came screeching (literally) into my life,
it became a matter of survival to do as little as possible when hosting an event.
So...
yesterday I made strawberry and melon salad with a homemade poppyseed orange juice dressing (sounds weird, but trust me)
and grilled chicken fajitas with homemade guacamole
and german chocolate cake from scratch.
AND.
the skirt I was wearing got a lot of compliments, to which I replied, "Thanks, I made it."
let's just say, I didn't have to show anyone my tits, and I still got a swelled head.
heh.
oooh, and I got some amazing new shampoo from the salon I bought the prizes from.
...I had to!!
they were having a sale.
anyway, it was a fabulous night, and I couldn't have done it without Becky--
who is the best damn partner a girl could hope for--she chopped and sliced and diced
we laughed, we cried--
well, she did, due to the onions.
and best of all, we drank Twisted Tea.
it's like a hard lemonade or whatever, but iced tea flavored.
iced tea with alky-haul.
my mouth is watering just thinking about it...
Aw, fuck.
it's time for the gym.
and this post is as dry as a week old loaf of homeade wheat bread.
I think I depleted my stores of funny and charming last night...
now I'm late for the gym.
pictures in 2 hours.
They don't look like Ds to me.
In fact, they don't feel like Ds, either.
speak up, I didn't hear you...
what?
let YOU be the judge of that??
humph.
I don't think so.
I mean, you gotta at least buy me a drink.
heh.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Night posting...mmm...my favorite!
I can't sleep.
yes, partly because it's so early--
and partly because I'm hopped up on donuts and shopping-endorphins.
I FINALLY bought new bras.
and y'all were right--
Ds they are.
and what a difference the right bra makes!!
yay.
So I was off line for most of the day--
construction dudes unplugged one of the modems or routers or whatever,
so I was fucked.
oh well...
I just have this strong desire to clear my head...
maybe I should dump a bottle of windex in my ear and head bang for an hour or so.
no?
yeah, probably not.
but a swim in the moonlight sounds wonderful.
is there moonlight?
I dunno.
if not, even better.
there were cloud-covered lightening flashes over the west desert, as I drove home tongiht.
I hate that I love this place...
I called my sister tonight for a recipe, and I think I interupted a fight...
she's so private.
she would never admit that her life's not perfect--
so much of it is.
but mostly I realized that I want to hold on to the closeness we re-established last week, during my visit.
I feel...
fictional.
No, really.
sometimes I feel like my life is just a story I'm reading...
losing track of where the memories stop and the pages take over.
I wish.
I wish that the power of a muse would last longer than the ticking of a clock,
or the splashing of a raindrop.
I wish that my darling muse would stand before me with a leaking umbrella in the pouring rain, and laugh at my shocked expression.
he is everywhere, and yet nowhere.
why do I constantly pull my hair up into temporary ponytails during the pauses in my writing?
it feels so good, but then, making it permanent annoys me.
I am probably crazier than I think...
and I am definitely more scattered than usual tonight--
clearing my head, I guess.
that's what I love about writing at night.
a quiet house spreading out around me.
no distractions.
one of my husband's brothers might be coming to stay with us for a while...
I really like him--SOMETIMES.
but he's very...particular?
uptight, arrogant.
but.
it was my idea--the offer.
he's in a bad situation, and that's what family's for.
I just...
really
really
really
(to the 53rd power)
like my privacy.
I like walking around my house naked.
I like showering with the bedroom door wide open
(and there's no door between bed and bath).
I like wandering around the house in not-fit-for-public pjs
(due to both ugliness and sexiness factors).
I like...not having to talk to anyone.
and did I mention I like my privacy?
yeah.
but we'll see.
if it happens, hopefully he will
A. not stay for long, and
B. not be around much.
I'm so loving and generous, aren't I????
eh.
I used to be.
before I had one helpless man and two helpless babies to take care of, ad nauseum.
now they get all my mommy-ing.
new.
bras.
thank you for the reminder, Orange!!!!
and I really feel weird about wearing a D.
which is also nearly too small.
fuck THAT.
I don't think I have anything else to say.
which generally means it might be a good idea to stop typing.
yeah.
or something.
make me go to sleep.
husband's passed out cold, but I have rather more of an urge to self-service tonight, anyway...
yes, partly because it's so early--
and partly because I'm hopped up on donuts and shopping-endorphins.
I FINALLY bought new bras.
and y'all were right--
Ds they are.
and what a difference the right bra makes!!
yay.
So I was off line for most of the day--
construction dudes unplugged one of the modems or routers or whatever,
so I was fucked.
oh well...
I just have this strong desire to clear my head...
maybe I should dump a bottle of windex in my ear and head bang for an hour or so.
no?
yeah, probably not.
but a swim in the moonlight sounds wonderful.
is there moonlight?
I dunno.
if not, even better.
there were cloud-covered lightening flashes over the west desert, as I drove home tongiht.
I hate that I love this place...
I called my sister tonight for a recipe, and I think I interupted a fight...
she's so private.
she would never admit that her life's not perfect--
so much of it is.
but mostly I realized that I want to hold on to the closeness we re-established last week, during my visit.
I feel...
fictional.
No, really.
sometimes I feel like my life is just a story I'm reading...
losing track of where the memories stop and the pages take over.
I wish.
I wish that the power of a muse would last longer than the ticking of a clock,
or the splashing of a raindrop.
I wish that my darling muse would stand before me with a leaking umbrella in the pouring rain, and laugh at my shocked expression.
he is everywhere, and yet nowhere.
why do I constantly pull my hair up into temporary ponytails during the pauses in my writing?
it feels so good, but then, making it permanent annoys me.
I am probably crazier than I think...
and I am definitely more scattered than usual tonight--
clearing my head, I guess.
that's what I love about writing at night.
a quiet house spreading out around me.
no distractions.
one of my husband's brothers might be coming to stay with us for a while...
I really like him--SOMETIMES.
but he's very...particular?
uptight, arrogant.
but.
it was my idea--the offer.
he's in a bad situation, and that's what family's for.
I just...
really
really
really
(to the 53rd power)
like my privacy.
I like walking around my house naked.
I like showering with the bedroom door wide open
(and there's no door between bed and bath).
I like wandering around the house in not-fit-for-public pjs
(due to both ugliness and sexiness factors).
I like...not having to talk to anyone.
and did I mention I like my privacy?
yeah.
but we'll see.
if it happens, hopefully he will
A. not stay for long, and
B. not be around much.
I'm so loving and generous, aren't I????
eh.
I used to be.
before I had one helpless man and two helpless babies to take care of, ad nauseum.
now they get all my mommy-ing.
new.
bras.
thank you for the reminder, Orange!!!!
and I really feel weird about wearing a D.
which is also nearly too small.
fuck THAT.
I don't think I have anything else to say.
which generally means it might be a good idea to stop typing.
yeah.
or something.
make me go to sleep.
husband's passed out cold, but I have rather more of an urge to self-service tonight, anyway...
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Monday, August 08, 2005
Dentists and WalMart and Contractors----Oh my!
They.
are.
fucking.
STARTING!!!!
Yes, I know I shouldn't be this excited--
especially since the first order of business is for them to rip out the fiberglass insulation in the walls and put it into the ceiling (for a little extra noise-reduction) and I have to turn off the AC in order to keep the fiberglass from getting sucked through the vents and spewed out around the house...
it's not terribly hot today, so we should be fine.
But still!!
we're at the official start of the Countdown to Lisa's Finished Basement--
and THAT is cause for celebration.
so far, no hotties.
damn.
the head dude likes to not wear a shirt, though, so that's fun.
for him.
I'm assuming.
So the dentist was super fun, too,
as Oliver had has first 2 teeeeny tiny practically-non-existent cavities filled.
he was so good, sitting still, etc.
and it only took about 10 minutes.
crazy.
Walmart...bleh.
I fuckinglove hate love hate love hate something that damn place.
but at least I got some fresh flowers and all the gorgeous ingredients for my dinner on Wednesday.
That girls' night (Bunco) I always go to is at my house this month.
Woot!
(as long as the fiberglass issue is settled by then, and we have the AC running...)
Not only am I cooking, but it's a night with Deidra (The other un-blogger) so be jealous--trust me.
I had a very scary dream while I was sleeping off my hangover the other day.
I was sitting in a restaurant in downtown Salt Lake, on one of the upper floors of a tall building.
Lisa Kudrow was there, incidentally--love her!
and I looked out the window, and saw a couple of buildings crumble--like the Trade Center.
and then I looked out the window to my left and watched as the buildings in the same row as ours fell one by one, like dominos--realizing in that hazy split second of fear that our buildng was next. And it did fall, but miraculously we were all ok.
fucking weirdo dreams. I still woke up feeling as though I had just had a heart attack.
I can't write with 3 children swarming me.
hehee...I just suggested that they go upstairs and jump on the step son's bed.
score one for me!!!
Ok, they're gone...but I'm still feeling utterly distracted.
My back hurts.
not as much as my non-headache head...ache.
I mean, my thinker hurts, not the blood vessels in my cranial cavity, m'kay??
And why?
well, why do you THINK??
yes, that's right.
because my first borns are starting KINDERGARTEN in a couple of weeks,
and I'm going back to COLLEGE after a nearly 10 year absence.
my babies...
my little tiny ones are one deep breath away from the fast track to adulthood.
I want to take it all back.
every minute I've ever spent away from them, or too tired to enjoy them, or writing here while they played...
but, of course, all of that is foolish.
They have been happy, and good.
they have each other, and of course my sanity has held on (for the most part) because of the time I've spent away from them--what little time it really was.
they are sneaking down the stairs and peeking at me, each in turn--then squealing and running away when they get "caught", as I look up and see them...
yeah....kids rock.
but Kindergarten is too much for me.
I need a good cry, I think.
and some new bras.
(entirely unrelated)
I guess I should go make some lunch.
If only as an excuse to have a(nother) donut.
remind me to do an audio post of my new favorite joke later.
Happy fucking stupidass Monday to you all.
I smell changes on the horizon.
(or maybe that's just my feet)
are.
fucking.
STARTING!!!!
Yes, I know I shouldn't be this excited--
especially since the first order of business is for them to rip out the fiberglass insulation in the walls and put it into the ceiling (for a little extra noise-reduction) and I have to turn off the AC in order to keep the fiberglass from getting sucked through the vents and spewed out around the house...
it's not terribly hot today, so we should be fine.
But still!!
we're at the official start of the Countdown to Lisa's Finished Basement--
and THAT is cause for celebration.
so far, no hotties.
damn.
the head dude likes to not wear a shirt, though, so that's fun.
for him.
I'm assuming.
So the dentist was super fun, too,
as Oliver had has first 2 teeeeny tiny practically-non-existent cavities filled.
he was so good, sitting still, etc.
and it only took about 10 minutes.
crazy.
Walmart...bleh.
I fucking
but at least I got some fresh flowers and all the gorgeous ingredients for my dinner on Wednesday.
That girls' night (Bunco) I always go to is at my house this month.
Woot!
(as long as the fiberglass issue is settled by then, and we have the AC running...)
Not only am I cooking, but it's a night with Deidra (The other un-blogger) so be jealous--trust me.
I had a very scary dream while I was sleeping off my hangover the other day.
I was sitting in a restaurant in downtown Salt Lake, on one of the upper floors of a tall building.
Lisa Kudrow was there, incidentally--love her!
and I looked out the window, and saw a couple of buildings crumble--like the Trade Center.
and then I looked out the window to my left and watched as the buildings in the same row as ours fell one by one, like dominos--realizing in that hazy split second of fear that our buildng was next. And it did fall, but miraculously we were all ok.
fucking weirdo dreams. I still woke up feeling as though I had just had a heart attack.
I can't write with 3 children swarming me.
hehee...I just suggested that they go upstairs and jump on the step son's bed.
score one for me!!!
Ok, they're gone...but I'm still feeling utterly distracted.
My back hurts.
not as much as my non-headache head...ache.
I mean, my thinker hurts, not the blood vessels in my cranial cavity, m'kay??
And why?
well, why do you THINK??
yes, that's right.
because my first borns are starting KINDERGARTEN in a couple of weeks,
and I'm going back to COLLEGE after a nearly 10 year absence.
my babies...
my little tiny ones are one deep breath away from the fast track to adulthood.
I want to take it all back.
every minute I've ever spent away from them, or too tired to enjoy them, or writing here while they played...
but, of course, all of that is foolish.
They have been happy, and good.
they have each other, and of course my sanity has held on (for the most part) because of the time I've spent away from them--what little time it really was.
they are sneaking down the stairs and peeking at me, each in turn--then squealing and running away when they get "caught", as I look up and see them...
yeah....kids rock.
but Kindergarten is too much for me.
I need a good cry, I think.
and some new bras.
(entirely unrelated)
I guess I should go make some lunch.
If only as an excuse to have a(nother) donut.
remind me to do an audio post of my new favorite joke later.
Happy fucking stupidass Monday to you all.
I smell changes on the horizon.
(or maybe that's just my feet)
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Why do I think it's a good idea to blog with a hangover?
I mean really.
I'm such a spaz.
or dumbass.
whatever.
and, please, could someone answer me one more question?
why the fuck am I NOT in my bed?
erg.
karaoke was fun, though.
and I have phone calls to return.
I almost went to montana with the mr. on a business trip,
so i called my childhood best friend to see how close she lives to the city he's going to.
turns out, tickets are way too much at the last minute, and she's going to be out of town anyway.
I really think that last paragraph was the worst group of sentences I've ever posted here.
and that's saying a LOT.
I've written a few brief emails and comments that I wish I could have borrowed someone else's brain to write, but other than that ,I'm cool.
I think.
it's possible I fell asleep at the wheel this morning driving home, and I'm dead and this is all a dream...
but not likely.
we met the coolest chicks last night.
one chick and her boyfriend,
one chick and her...uh, self.
they were very cool.
and I am redundantalizing the shit out of this train of thought.
I need some good food.
but I'm too fucked up to figure out how to prepare any,
and too blaaaaaaaaaahgy to go get some.
and.
too.
other stuff.
If you're in Denver, could you tell my husband to skip the PGA thing, and just come home?
yes, I realize that anyone who's reading this and is currently in Denver, has no way of contacting my semi-anonymous husband (no, that's not code for imaginary, sorry),
and I also realize that my phone is less than 6 inches from my hand,
but jesus, people, help a hungover girl out, wouldja??
I love water parks.
I love water parks when I don't have small children with me.
I love water parks when you don't plunge into water so hard you get it up your nose.
I love water parks even when you do plunge into water so hard you get your entire swimsuit crammed up your ass--yes, the ENTIRE thing.
I love water parks because I can obsess over tits...
do you have any idea how much plastic surgery goes on here???
I bet we're second only to California.
hey, I'm not entirely bagging it, cuz a tummy tuck has moved into place above "getting a new car" on my list of must haves, but I can still be cunty about people with fake boobs....right?
well, unless I know them, then it's cool.
christ, I"m evil.
favorite south park ever:
stuttering kid, to love interest: y-y-y-you're a-a-a-a cunt-cunt-cunt-cunt-
(girl walks off)
stuttering kid to thin air: -inuing source of inspiration.
do I even need to tell you that my husband's and my favorite thing to say when we're pretending to be mad is "you're such a continuing source of inspiration!!"
childish???
US???
bah.
never.
we do have fun, though...
(smiling dopily at the thought that he'll be home in a few hours...barring any fluke PGA tickets being thrown his way.)
did I mention I had sooo much fun at the water park?
I think I mighta.
It was a girls' day--
and we loved it.
Becky and I both have boys, so it's fun to hang out with little-ish girls sometimes.
especially cool ones.
ok.
my bed is calling to me--
I'm such a spaz.
or dumbass.
whatever.
and, please, could someone answer me one more question?
why the fuck am I NOT in my bed?
erg.
karaoke was fun, though.
and I have phone calls to return.
I almost went to montana with the mr. on a business trip,
so i called my childhood best friend to see how close she lives to the city he's going to.
turns out, tickets are way too much at the last minute, and she's going to be out of town anyway.
I really think that last paragraph was the worst group of sentences I've ever posted here.
and that's saying a LOT.
I've written a few brief emails and comments that I wish I could have borrowed someone else's brain to write, but other than that ,I'm cool.
I think.
it's possible I fell asleep at the wheel this morning driving home, and I'm dead and this is all a dream...
but not likely.
we met the coolest chicks last night.
one chick and her boyfriend,
one chick and her...uh, self.
they were very cool.
and I am redundantalizing the shit out of this train of thought.
I need some good food.
but I'm too fucked up to figure out how to prepare any,
and too blaaaaaaaaaahgy to go get some.
and.
too.
other stuff.
If you're in Denver, could you tell my husband to skip the PGA thing, and just come home?
yes, I realize that anyone who's reading this and is currently in Denver, has no way of contacting my semi-anonymous husband (no, that's not code for imaginary, sorry),
and I also realize that my phone is less than 6 inches from my hand,
but jesus, people, help a hungover girl out, wouldja??
I love water parks.
I love water parks when I don't have small children with me.
I love water parks when you don't plunge into water so hard you get it up your nose.
I love water parks even when you do plunge into water so hard you get your entire swimsuit crammed up your ass--yes, the ENTIRE thing.
I love water parks because I can obsess over tits...
do you have any idea how much plastic surgery goes on here???
I bet we're second only to California.
hey, I'm not entirely bagging it, cuz a tummy tuck has moved into place above "getting a new car" on my list of must haves, but I can still be cunty about people with fake boobs....right?
well, unless I know them, then it's cool.
christ, I"m evil.
favorite south park ever:
stuttering kid, to love interest: y-y-y-you're a-a-a-a cunt-cunt-cunt-cunt-
(girl walks off)
stuttering kid to thin air: -inuing source of inspiration.
do I even need to tell you that my husband's and my favorite thing to say when we're pretending to be mad is "you're such a continuing source of inspiration!!"
childish???
US???
bah.
never.
we do have fun, though...
(smiling dopily at the thought that he'll be home in a few hours...barring any fluke PGA tickets being thrown his way.)
did I mention I had sooo much fun at the water park?
I think I mighta.
It was a girls' day--
and we loved it.
Becky and I both have boys, so it's fun to hang out with little-ish girls sometimes.
especially cool ones.
ok.
my bed is calling to me--
Friday, August 05, 2005
Fridays are for fucking
Not exclusively,
but you have to admit, the alliteration is pleasant.
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood,
but there's no way in hell I'm inviting you all to be my neighbors,
so don't even start humming that song
or taking off your damn work shoes,
and if you EVEN try trading your suit jacket for a zipped up sweater--
I'll punch you right in the face.
well...
that sounds a bit harsh.
It's just that if you guys all lived here,
I would never get anything done.
heh...except well...hehe.
nah, actually it would be a fucking blast.
I swear to Jehosaphat that I will throw the biggest blogger party and fly everyone to it if I ever get "rich".
I'm leaving it entirely vague on purpose...
but really, I think that I should celebrate the end of my 30th year (next june) by taking the mother of all roadtrips and go visit all the kick-ass bloggers in my life.
let's start a petition--
maybe the hubby will cave if you guys start harassing him, non-stop.
If you're asking yourself right now "Did Lisa drink too much coffee this morning?"
the answer is "yes".
Contractors showed up this morning to take final measurements.
They will start work Monday.
I am nearly breathless with excitement, and have even had my first encounter of the "getting ready to shower, bikini line covered in Nair, curls brushed out to frizzy mass" kind.
Good thing I told my kids to keep my bedroom door closed.
pooor guy did NOT need to see that.
especially before he even started working.
he would have run for the hills--
or I would have chased him!!
trauma--
missed by a nose.
And now, I'm off for a day at the waterpark.
leaving the littles with a friend, since they would just hold me back.
but the un-wicked(for once) step-mother that I am,
I am taking the step son.
He's a water bug, and old enough to do his own thing for the most part.
so, we're going with Becky,
the unblogger (which looks/sounds a lot like "unabomber"...)
and her twin neices, who are 11-ish.
should be fun.
better fucking be fun.
heh.
ok, I'm sure I have a thousand more non-things to say,
but they'll have to linger in my spongey little head a while longer.
happy Friday, kiddos!!
but you have to admit, the alliteration is pleasant.
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood,
but there's no way in hell I'm inviting you all to be my neighbors,
so don't even start humming that song
or taking off your damn work shoes,
and if you EVEN try trading your suit jacket for a zipped up sweater--
I'll punch you right in the face.
well...
that sounds a bit harsh.
It's just that if you guys all lived here,
I would never get anything done.
heh...except well...hehe.
nah, actually it would be a fucking blast.
I swear to Jehosaphat that I will throw the biggest blogger party and fly everyone to it if I ever get "rich".
I'm leaving it entirely vague on purpose...
but really, I think that I should celebrate the end of my 30th year (next june) by taking the mother of all roadtrips and go visit all the kick-ass bloggers in my life.
let's start a petition--
maybe the hubby will cave if you guys start harassing him, non-stop.
If you're asking yourself right now "Did Lisa drink too much coffee this morning?"
the answer is "yes".
Contractors showed up this morning to take final measurements.
They will start work Monday.
I am nearly breathless with excitement, and have even had my first encounter of the "getting ready to shower, bikini line covered in Nair, curls brushed out to frizzy mass" kind.
Good thing I told my kids to keep my bedroom door closed.
pooor guy did NOT need to see that.
especially before he even started working.
he would have run for the hills--
or I would have chased him!!
trauma--
missed by a nose.
And now, I'm off for a day at the waterpark.
leaving the littles with a friend, since they would just hold me back.
but the un-wicked(for once) step-mother that I am,
I am taking the step son.
He's a water bug, and old enough to do his own thing for the most part.
so, we're going with Becky,
the unblogger (which looks/sounds a lot like "unabomber"...)
and her twin neices, who are 11-ish.
should be fun.
better fucking be fun.
heh.
ok, I'm sure I have a thousand more non-things to say,
but they'll have to linger in my spongey little head a while longer.
happy Friday, kiddos!!
Thursday, August 04, 2005
T-minus 14 days...
until I go back to COLLEGE.
(insert a panicked expression)
seriously, you guys...
what the FUCK was I thinking???
I have the perfect gig right now--
and with the kids at school half day, I could have been
extra
super duper
mega
ultra
lazy...
or, ya know, industrious.
or whatever.
but now I'll have homework...
and no office yet.
we have been so wishy washy over what to do about the basement
that it's making me a little seasick!
as of right now, we're having the original contractor come and do it all--
which is probably our final decision.
but his schedule is a little full right now, so it'll be at least 2 months until it's finished.
faaaack.
anyway, office or no office, I'm nervous and excited to go to class for the first time.
Ya gotta read this amazing post--
a tribute to...me...
makes me blush--and laugh, and, er, well...maybe cry.
I'm not even going to attempt to blame this one on PMS, it was really just plain
downright
simply
fucking awesome.
period.
And besides, if you're not already reading Rachael's Ramblings, you really ought to be ashamed of yourself.
I could never do her justice, especially after such a glowing review, but I will say that she is a fantastic writer who regularly regales us with tales of her misspent youth and her current adventures--and she does it all with complete candor and humor. She has lived through some heart-stopping stuff, and yet still stands tall. She's one of those women whose vocabulary most explicitly does NOT include "whine"--now, wine, there's a'plenty of, for the good times, and someday maybe we'll share a bottle or box or vat--I should be so lucky. She rocks, and hard. Go read about her start in blogging (me!) and make sure to check out some of her other posts as well--for that matter, bookmark her or I'll stop posting boobie pics, how 'bout that??
oh, speaking of Lisa using paragraph form...
I've been considering switching my format here to a more traditional one--
like, say, including paragraphs and all that jazz.
I'm not entirely sure I could do it,
what with my Change Allergy and all,
but I could give it a shot...
I just started writing this way one day,
and it became very comfortable.
we'll see.
give me your thoughts, but remember, this is like when a friend of yours mentions maybe breaking up with that guy you hate--the asshole who doesn't deserve her/treat her right/etc--she's probably not going to do it, so don't commit yourself to anything!!!
That reminds me (because she prefers paragraphs, not the boyfriend thing) that Kat is back online!!!
Her move was rough, but successful, and she is now settled cozily in a new beautiful location, with her husband and youngest son,
far from the rest of her family--
sounds good, eh?
she's another one ya damn well better be reading.
ok, I'm off.
doctor's appointments and such.
have a fabulous day, and don't forget--
why tip your waitress, when you could give her the whole thing?
(told ya I'm a dirty old man!!)
(insert a panicked expression)
seriously, you guys...
what the FUCK was I thinking???
I have the perfect gig right now--
and with the kids at school half day, I could have been
extra
super duper
mega
ultra
lazy...
or, ya know, industrious.
or whatever.
but now I'll have homework...
and no office yet.
we have been so wishy washy over what to do about the basement
that it's making me a little seasick!
as of right now, we're having the original contractor come and do it all--
which is probably our final decision.
but his schedule is a little full right now, so it'll be at least 2 months until it's finished.
faaaack.
anyway, office or no office, I'm nervous and excited to go to class for the first time.
Ya gotta read this amazing post--
a tribute to...me...
makes me blush--and laugh, and, er, well...maybe cry.
I'm not even going to attempt to blame this one on PMS, it was really just plain
downright
simply
fucking awesome.
period.
And besides, if you're not already reading Rachael's Ramblings, you really ought to be ashamed of yourself.
I could never do her justice, especially after such a glowing review, but I will say that she is a fantastic writer who regularly regales us with tales of her misspent youth and her current adventures--and she does it all with complete candor and humor. She has lived through some heart-stopping stuff, and yet still stands tall. She's one of those women whose vocabulary most explicitly does NOT include "whine"--now, wine, there's a'plenty of, for the good times, and someday maybe we'll share a bottle or box or vat--I should be so lucky. She rocks, and hard. Go read about her start in blogging (me!) and make sure to check out some of her other posts as well--for that matter, bookmark her or I'll stop posting boobie pics, how 'bout that??
oh, speaking of Lisa using paragraph form...
I've been considering switching my format here to a more traditional one--
like, say, including paragraphs and all that jazz.
I'm not entirely sure I could do it,
what with my Change Allergy and all,
but I could give it a shot...
I just started writing this way one day,
and it became very comfortable.
we'll see.
give me your thoughts, but remember, this is like when a friend of yours mentions maybe breaking up with that guy you hate--the asshole who doesn't deserve her/treat her right/etc--she's probably not going to do it, so don't commit yourself to anything!!!
That reminds me (because she prefers paragraphs, not the boyfriend thing) that Kat is back online!!!
Her move was rough, but successful, and she is now settled cozily in a new beautiful location, with her husband and youngest son,
far from the rest of her family--
sounds good, eh?
she's another one ya damn well better be reading.
ok, I'm off.
doctor's appointments and such.
have a fabulous day, and don't forget--
why tip your waitress, when you could give her the whole thing?
(told ya I'm a dirty old man!!)
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Some notes from the airplane
or JET, as my boys would insist I call it...
damn little perfectionists.
(copied exactly as it waswritten scrawled.)
Note: as I typed, I realized that most of what I wrote was really terrible.
I am fighting with myself over whether or not to post it...
maybe I'll post it, then write a new post immediately following...
tricky little thing, I am.
the clouds below me look like a bowl of spilled popcorn--
tiny things, spread over the neat, even checkerboard of midwestern farmland below me.
a perfect spot for skydiving...
hello Lake Michigan!
and now there are real clouds........
I could swear I smell a fresh peach right now.
an island with a sandbar tail--
looking like a conversation bubble in a comic....
************
I love possibilities--
beginnings, fresh & new. I believe that every minor decision impacts so much more than the obvious--pausing for a moment to glance up at a striking city skyline, for example, could lead so easily to a shifting of all the events of that day, and therefore negate the possibility of ever knowing what would have happened differently if that pause had been avoided--or had lasted longer. But really, I love the idea that each person I see, each stranger, has an unlimited potential to be anyone under the rainbow, until I meet them.
************
I look around at the world and wonder how it can be so different from one place to another. Cities all seem the same to me--because I don't know any one more than another. they all are big & busy...and dirty and fast and full. The country, though. The country is full of emptiness--which is not the same as loneliness. That seems more prevalent in cities to me. Green grass, rustling trees--
************
(this is a further rumination on a thought I mentioned last week in a post)
Zipper in the fabric of time--
Open it, step through, take a deep breath. I would look around, and my surroundings would come into focus--my mind would create them, and being believing in them in waves, in the moments to follow. There would be trees, and a waterfall. Birds chirping, butterflies lazily wandering from flower to fragrant flower. I would almost giggle at the serenity of it, the scene-from-a-movie quality, but just as the giggle formed, my conscious mind would finish the transformation from creator to blissfully ignorant occupent, resident, inhabitant, and the giggle would turn gently into a yawn. Stretching, this new me looks around. She is looking for someone. She doesn't know who, or that she is looking, but when he steps into the clearing, her whole body--straight on through from her heart to her soul--feels it, knows it. He is what she was waiting for, he is the reason she came here--even though she doens't remember being anywhere else. Their eyes meet. He blinks, not knowing quite where he is, and the landscape shifts slightly. He is changing it as he enters more fully into his new body, in this new location. She is walking toward him
************
I lose myself too easily, which is why I have to be constantly aware of the changes in my environment & self.
************
I should warn you that this is a love story. The epic proportions of it may overshadow the simple, quiet truth of it, but don't be distracted. The core of this tale is the most beautiful perfection to ever be played out by human characters in any story, imagined or real. This story happens to be real. Though real, this story has no discernible beginning and hasn't yet entirely ended. A good startging point, however, would be that June morning. Typical? Sure. Typical at a glance. The birds were doing their thing--singing, chirping, etc, the breakfast dishes were rinsed and resting in the dishwasher. My coffee mug was half-full, and the house was quiet. There was no plan, no forethought--no warning, as my family would shockedly agree. I shook the last of my shoer from my hair and stretched, almost yawning. It could be argued that this incomplete yawn was the proverbial straw, breaking a 37-year-old housewife-shaped camel's back, but I'm not entirely sure that there were enough other straws already in place to allow for such a thing. Or maybe it was the week before, when my birthday was forgotten by my whole famly. That stupid day. I'm sure you've heard it all before--the housewife who devotes her life to her family and gets sick of getting nothing in return? Well, that was not me. I had heard it before, too, and it didn't strike me as a way to live. Me, I preferred the idea of enjoying every day of my life while making my famly as happy as I could. It was working out pretty well for me, and the birthday incident wouldn't have left much of a bruise if there hand't been a much deeper injury festering. Yes. I'm taking my time in working back to the first step I took away from my life. It isn't simple, this part of the story--the prologue.
************
To journal is to add ink to memories before they've yet left the present, before they've faded. Having let the truest nature of journalling lapse--my habit of daily writing going to practice for fiction and chatter about silliness, the memories have taken on fuzzy edges, many of them flying away on the wind, entirely lost.
************
(some lyrics of Jack Johnson I jotted)
There's no combination of words
I could put on the back of a postcard,
no song that I could sing but I could try for your heart.
************
It was not a dark and stormy night--but I would end up wishing it had been. It was, in fact, the tail end of sunset--twilight--when I finished fighting with my father. I stomped and slammed my way out to the driveway, discovering that I had no shoes, no car keys. Since returning to the house would have underscored my heartily-held position of victory, I continued on. The gravel scraped at my feet, but soon I reached the smooth pavement, still warm from the last rays of sun. With each fight I was getting stronger, and it had been months since he had dared to hit me. I was wearing him down with words--someting I would not have thought possible only a year before. I padded my way along in the fading light--little forethought or worries in my head. I had won another battle, and if his drinking didn't kill him soon--
Well. The sky was streaked with so many beautiful colors, and a gentle breeze made the trees whisper. I lost myself in the quietness of it and tried to find some peace inside.
well, there it all is.
it sucks, but then...
so do I.
*wink*
damn little perfectionists.
(copied exactly as it was
Note: as I typed, I realized that most of what I wrote was really terrible.
I am fighting with myself over whether or not to post it...
maybe I'll post it, then write a new post immediately following...
tricky little thing, I am.
the clouds below me look like a bowl of spilled popcorn--
tiny things, spread over the neat, even checkerboard of midwestern farmland below me.
a perfect spot for skydiving...
hello Lake Michigan!
and now there are real clouds........
I could swear I smell a fresh peach right now.
an island with a sandbar tail--
looking like a conversation bubble in a comic....
************
I love possibilities--
beginnings, fresh & new. I believe that every minor decision impacts so much more than the obvious--pausing for a moment to glance up at a striking city skyline, for example, could lead so easily to a shifting of all the events of that day, and therefore negate the possibility of ever knowing what would have happened differently if that pause had been avoided--or had lasted longer. But really, I love the idea that each person I see, each stranger, has an unlimited potential to be anyone under the rainbow, until I meet them.
************
I look around at the world and wonder how it can be so different from one place to another. Cities all seem the same to me--because I don't know any one more than another. they all are big & busy...and dirty and fast and full. The country, though. The country is full of emptiness--which is not the same as loneliness. That seems more prevalent in cities to me. Green grass, rustling trees--
************
(this is a further rumination on a thought I mentioned last week in a post)
Zipper in the fabric of time--
Open it, step through, take a deep breath. I would look around, and my surroundings would come into focus--my mind would create them, and being believing in them in waves, in the moments to follow. There would be trees, and a waterfall. Birds chirping, butterflies lazily wandering from flower to fragrant flower. I would almost giggle at the serenity of it, the scene-from-a-movie quality, but just as the giggle formed, my conscious mind would finish the transformation from creator to blissfully ignorant occupent, resident, inhabitant, and the giggle would turn gently into a yawn. Stretching, this new me looks around. She is looking for someone. She doesn't know who, or that she is looking, but when he steps into the clearing, her whole body--straight on through from her heart to her soul--feels it, knows it. He is what she was waiting for, he is the reason she came here--even though she doens't remember being anywhere else. Their eyes meet. He blinks, not knowing quite where he is, and the landscape shifts slightly. He is changing it as he enters more fully into his new body, in this new location. She is walking toward him
************
I lose myself too easily, which is why I have to be constantly aware of the changes in my environment & self.
************
I should warn you that this is a love story. The epic proportions of it may overshadow the simple, quiet truth of it, but don't be distracted. The core of this tale is the most beautiful perfection to ever be played out by human characters in any story, imagined or real. This story happens to be real. Though real, this story has no discernible beginning and hasn't yet entirely ended. A good startging point, however, would be that June morning. Typical? Sure. Typical at a glance. The birds were doing their thing--singing, chirping, etc, the breakfast dishes were rinsed and resting in the dishwasher. My coffee mug was half-full, and the house was quiet. There was no plan, no forethought--no warning, as my family would shockedly agree. I shook the last of my shoer from my hair and stretched, almost yawning. It could be argued that this incomplete yawn was the proverbial straw, breaking a 37-year-old housewife-shaped camel's back, but I'm not entirely sure that there were enough other straws already in place to allow for such a thing. Or maybe it was the week before, when my birthday was forgotten by my whole famly. That stupid day. I'm sure you've heard it all before--the housewife who devotes her life to her family and gets sick of getting nothing in return? Well, that was not me. I had heard it before, too, and it didn't strike me as a way to live. Me, I preferred the idea of enjoying every day of my life while making my famly as happy as I could. It was working out pretty well for me, and the birthday incident wouldn't have left much of a bruise if there hand't been a much deeper injury festering. Yes. I'm taking my time in working back to the first step I took away from my life. It isn't simple, this part of the story--the prologue.
************
To journal is to add ink to memories before they've yet left the present, before they've faded. Having let the truest nature of journalling lapse--my habit of daily writing going to practice for fiction and chatter about silliness, the memories have taken on fuzzy edges, many of them flying away on the wind, entirely lost.
************
(some lyrics of Jack Johnson I jotted)
There's no combination of words
I could put on the back of a postcard,
no song that I could sing but I could try for your heart.
************
It was not a dark and stormy night--but I would end up wishing it had been. It was, in fact, the tail end of sunset--twilight--when I finished fighting with my father. I stomped and slammed my way out to the driveway, discovering that I had no shoes, no car keys. Since returning to the house would have underscored my heartily-held position of victory, I continued on. The gravel scraped at my feet, but soon I reached the smooth pavement, still warm from the last rays of sun. With each fight I was getting stronger, and it had been months since he had dared to hit me. I was wearing him down with words--someting I would not have thought possible only a year before. I padded my way along in the fading light--little forethought or worries in my head. I had won another battle, and if his drinking didn't kill him soon--
Well. The sky was streaked with so many beautiful colors, and a gentle breeze made the trees whisper. I lost myself in the quietness of it and tried to find some peace inside.
well, there it all is.
it sucks, but then...
so do I.
*wink*
Post number 1000
Whoa.
I can't believe I've written that many posts.
Especially since most of them are rather lengthy...
So, I have been considering the different ways in which I might celebrate this occasion...
My first thought was to post a list of one thousand things...
blah.
BORING.
(besides, how in the HELLFIRE would I come up with 1000 things to put in a list?? that's like...ten lists of 100. yeah. riiiight.)
and then I thought of writing a post of exactly one thousand words,
about why I love blogging or why I think we should all send blogger a cyber BJ because they rock so hard or whatever.
Then I thought of giving away some sort of prize that revolves around 1000, but I drew a total blank there.
and so, barring any REAL ideas, I've gone with the old stand by.
the big cop out.
the sound and the fury, signifying nothing...
aw, that sounds a little...bitter.
so, I think I"ll write a bit more before posting the cop out...
I do love blogging, and it has provided a very positive outlet for me, as a stay-at-home bored-as-hell mom.
and, I would like to think it has allowed me to touch at least 1000 lives--
yes, in a perverted old man sorta way.
com'ere, little boy...
I am such a dirty old man.
I had a dream last night about making out with a cute teenage boy blogger.
pardon my subconscious, it's a bit inappropriate.
so...
nope.
I'm not going to do it.
I will not cop out.
I will make this a sparkly celebration of a great accomplishment--
wait.
ACCOMPLISHMENT??
how, exactly, is this worthy of that lofty expression?
I have managed to ramble incoherantly for 2 and a half years--
that's not so much an accomplishment for ME, as it is for anyone who's still reading!!
haha!
ok.
well...
fuck it.
I have nothing sparkly.
I love you all, like that dirty old man would,
and I appreciate the hours and hours (and hours and hours) of entertainment your blogs and chats and emails have provided me.
most especially the good old days, when chats were more than just chats...
wink.
wink.
and I wasn't so scattered that I could actually get to know some of you.
well.
this post blows.
here's to 1000 more--
(I just did a word count, and that post contains 387 so far...I am not at all tempted to write 613 more.)
I can't believe I've written that many posts.
Especially since most of them are rather lengthy...
So, I have been considering the different ways in which I might celebrate this occasion...
My first thought was to post a list of one thousand things...
blah.
BORING.
(besides, how in the HELLFIRE would I come up with 1000 things to put in a list?? that's like...ten lists of 100. yeah. riiiight.)
and then I thought of writing a post of exactly one thousand words,
about why I love blogging or why I think we should all send blogger a cyber BJ because they rock so hard or whatever.
Then I thought of giving away some sort of prize that revolves around 1000, but I drew a total blank there.
and so, barring any REAL ideas, I've gone with the old stand by.
the big cop out.
the sound and the fury, signifying nothing...
aw, that sounds a little...bitter.
so, I think I"ll write a bit more before posting the cop out...
I do love blogging, and it has provided a very positive outlet for me, as a stay-at-home bored-as-hell mom.
and, I would like to think it has allowed me to touch at least 1000 lives--
yes, in a perverted old man sorta way.
com'ere, little boy...
I am such a dirty old man.
I had a dream last night about making out with a cute teenage boy blogger.
pardon my subconscious, it's a bit inappropriate.
so...
nope.
I'm not going to do it.
I will not cop out.
I will make this a sparkly celebration of a great accomplishment--
wait.
ACCOMPLISHMENT??
how, exactly, is this worthy of that lofty expression?
I have managed to ramble incoherantly for 2 and a half years--
that's not so much an accomplishment for ME, as it is for anyone who's still reading!!
haha!
ok.
well...
fuck it.
I have nothing sparkly.
I love you all, like that dirty old man would,
and I appreciate the hours and hours (and hours and hours) of entertainment your blogs and chats and emails have provided me.
most especially the good old days, when chats were more than just chats...
wink.
wink.
and I wasn't so scattered that I could actually get to know some of you.
well.
this post blows.
here's to 1000 more--
(I just did a word count, and that post contains 387 so far...I am not at all tempted to write 613 more.)
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
112 Reasons It's A Bad Idea To Buy 1 Dozen of My Favorite Dunkin Donuts Before Returning To Exile--
Given my violent history with pastry,
and my penchant for eating myself into a diabetic coma,
I probably don't need to list each reason, but here are a few random thoughts on the subject:
* they don't work so well as appetizers
* carrying them all the way across the country should definitely count toward some free calories (I'll check with the association for reversing caloric intake, down in area 51 on this one...)
* they taste just as heavenly cold as room temperature.
* no matter how many vanilla cream donuts I eat (currently at 5 in the last 18 hours),
my childhood won't magically reappear. damn.
unrelated, but occupying space in my skull:
69* F is too fucking cold for a house to be in the middle of summer.
I'm wearing a fleece.
with my shorts and tank, but I'm stil shivering.
I'll have to discuss it with the boss.
ok, I used the crappy camera on my phone to get today's braless picture,
since I have several disgruntled readers on my hands and no way to download pictures from the real camera at the moment.
ugh. donuts make REALLY bad appetizers.
ok, here goes.
fuck.
I forget to check if this is my 1000th post yet...
see?
told ya I'd forget...
and my penchant for eating myself into a diabetic coma,
I probably don't need to list each reason, but here are a few random thoughts on the subject:
* they don't work so well as appetizers
* carrying them all the way across the country should definitely count toward some free calories (I'll check with the association for reversing caloric intake, down in area 51 on this one...)
* they taste just as heavenly cold as room temperature.
* no matter how many vanilla cream donuts I eat (currently at 5 in the last 18 hours),
my childhood won't magically reappear. damn.
unrelated, but occupying space in my skull:
69* F is too fucking cold for a house to be in the middle of summer.
I'm wearing a fleece.
with my shorts and tank, but I'm stil shivering.
I'll have to discuss it with the boss.
ok, I used the crappy camera on my phone to get today's braless picture,
since I have several disgruntled readers on my hands and no way to download pictures from the real camera at the moment.
ugh. donuts make REALLY bad appetizers.
ok, here goes.
fuck.
I forget to check if this is my 1000th post yet...
see?
told ya I'd forget...
I fell asleep in paradise and woke up in hell
ha!!
just kidding!!
it is sooooooooo good to be home!
the visit with my sister was absolute perfection,
and it's even better to be home,
so all is as it should be.
well...
not all...
mr. hubby did a great job making the house presentable, but...
ya know.
I'm the lord of this manor and it wasn't as I left it.
sink full of dishes, table needing to be washed,
floor needing to be mopped.
not too shabby, really.
so now I'm back in business, and will resume my "screw you"-with-a-smile posting.
which is entirely different than "screw you with a smile"...
the latter is part of a contract I signed about 7 years ago...har.
I am feeling terribly guilty for not answering so many of my recent comments,
but I'll live with it.
just know I did read them all, and welcome to my new readers.
Sergei brought up a good point--
that my post counter may be off.
but, I'm waaaay too lazy to figure out a way to manually count my posts, so I ain't gunna.
we're going with the 1000 number, and celebrating accordingly.
If I posted once every day since the first day of this blog, in December 2002,
then I would have 940 posts.
since I post twice in a lot of days, and weekends are hit or miss,
I really think 1000 is pretty accurate.
So like I said in my comments, "Screw you, Sergei"
(but only with Mona's approval and/or participation!!!)
ooo, that reminds me!
I had a dream about a really pretty blonde lesbian last night.
yes, we were making out,
yes it was hot.
speaking of hot, I just discovered that I reek and need to take a shower.
I'm blaming it on the day spent travelling, since I rarely have b.o.
I would normally assign some of the blame to the hot sweaty reunion sex, but...
we are getting old.
we were both so damn tired that we just had regular-people sex.
tonight we will re-enact Diddler on the Roof, or some other low-budget porn, though.
I'm not too worried about it.
I can't believe it's time to go school shopping.
for the boys--
AND for me!!!
this is a big year for us.
I truly cannot believe that they are entering Kindergarten.
It blows my mind.
and I can't believe I'm going to be sitting in a classroom with a bunch of teenagers, myself.
I'm going to blow their minds.
ha.
all I know is, my entire backyard is bathed in lush green grass now.
it's like magic.
or sod...
and as soon as the fence is finished (started),
you can bet I'll be commencing Operation sunbathe-practically-nekid.
well!
the fence isn't tall enough to keep out the neighbors who happen to look out the windows on their second story, so no gratuitous flashing for them.
but I will do my best.
ok.
the showering is singing me sweet songs--
more like begging,
so I better go.
I can't wait to get caught up on everyone's blogs!
just kidding!!
it is sooooooooo good to be home!
the visit with my sister was absolute perfection,
and it's even better to be home,
so all is as it should be.
well...
not all...
mr. hubby did a great job making the house presentable, but...
ya know.
I'm the lord of this manor and it wasn't as I left it.
sink full of dishes, table needing to be washed,
floor needing to be mopped.
not too shabby, really.
so now I'm back in business, and will resume my "screw you"-with-a-smile posting.
which is entirely different than "screw you with a smile"...
the latter is part of a contract I signed about 7 years ago...har.
I am feeling terribly guilty for not answering so many of my recent comments,
but I'll live with it.
just know I did read them all, and welcome to my new readers.
Sergei brought up a good point--
that my post counter may be off.
but, I'm waaaay too lazy to figure out a way to manually count my posts, so I ain't gunna.
we're going with the 1000 number, and celebrating accordingly.
If I posted once every day since the first day of this blog, in December 2002,
then I would have 940 posts.
since I post twice in a lot of days, and weekends are hit or miss,
I really think 1000 is pretty accurate.
So like I said in my comments, "Screw you, Sergei"
(but only with Mona's approval and/or participation!!!)
ooo, that reminds me!
I had a dream about a really pretty blonde lesbian last night.
yes, we were making out,
yes it was hot.
speaking of hot, I just discovered that I reek and need to take a shower.
I'm blaming it on the day spent travelling, since I rarely have b.o.
I would normally assign some of the blame to the hot sweaty reunion sex, but...
we are getting old.
we were both so damn tired that we just had regular-people sex.
tonight we will re-enact Diddler on the Roof, or some other low-budget porn, though.
I'm not too worried about it.
I can't believe it's time to go school shopping.
for the boys--
AND for me!!!
this is a big year for us.
I truly cannot believe that they are entering Kindergarten.
It blows my mind.
and I can't believe I'm going to be sitting in a classroom with a bunch of teenagers, myself.
I'm going to blow their minds.
ha.
all I know is, my entire backyard is bathed in lush green grass now.
it's like magic.
or sod...
and as soon as the fence is finished (started),
you can bet I'll be commencing Operation sunbathe-practically-nekid.
well!
the fence isn't tall enough to keep out the neighbors who happen to look out the windows on their second story, so no gratuitous flashing for them.
but I will do my best.
ok.
the showering is singing me sweet songs--
more like begging,
so I better go.
I can't wait to get caught up on everyone's blogs!
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