Tuesday, December 19, 2006

4 years....



Today marks the 4 year anniversary of my very first post.


I love the story of how I started blogging,


because it is a story of intense curiosity, mild crushes, and the start of my writing "career."




Having this blog changed me.


I would say for the better, because it has stretched my horizons so wide that my sun sets and rises on the same plane.



I wish I had The Bored Housewife Chronicles ready, so I could celebrate this day by giving away some copies, but I don't.


I have not planned ahead at all.


But I will be celebrating in my heart, and I hope that you will join me!


I could go on and on and wax sentimental, but I think I'll keep it brief.


It's been surreal.


Here is my first post:

December 19, 2002 1:43am

So now that I have the page up and running, I have run out of things to say. No, it can't be. I have never before run out of things to say. I think the pressure's just on. Let me introduce myself, just in case anyone decides to read this. My name is Lisa and I'm a housewife in the western United States, Utah, to be precise. I'm a New England native, and frightfully proud of it. Utah is pretty fun, but I miss the ocean, good seafood, good bars, and, well, lots of other things--including Dunkin Donuts...yum. I have 2 year old twin boys, which is why I get to be a housewife. They are so much fun, and you'll probably end up hearing about them from time to time, but not to a Kathie Lee extent, I promise. The only other thing I have going on in my life is daily trips to the gym--trying hard to get my pre-child-bearing body back...going pretty well, and I enjoy the diversion, so it's a good thing. Also, I'm writing a novel. That is a trip. Okay, so I guess that's all you need to know for now. I'll get on to the good stuff.

Since it's the middle of the night, and I'm not even sure if this is going to work, I'm going to be lazy today. I'm going to post some excerpts from emails i wrote earlier today. yes, I'm lazy. It's 1:32 am and i have to get up in a while. i'll be less lazy next time i post. i swear. a lot, actually.

Going out is pretty lame around here, anyway. Try living in the fucking bible belt of the rockies. There are about 100,000 people in this county and guess how many bars? Just guess. I want to hear a number, god damn it. No, you’re wrong. There are 8. Yup. Most of them are total red-neck, cowboy dives, too. And live music? Shit. That’s what there is for live music. It’s a sad, sad thing. The other sucky thing about going out here is that there are virtually no restaurants that are not national chains. Except for Mexican—there is definitely good Mexican here. Perhaps that’s because there are lots of Mexicans here. Uh, anyway, the food here sucks and so do the bars, but we manage to have a great time anyway. Like, last weekend we went to some Elk’s club function (talk about rednecks and cowboys—and OLD PEOPLE!!!!) to see a friend of a friend do some belly dancing. That was a good time. And there are some truly phenomenal outdoorsy things to do. Like the hot springs—nature’s hot tub nestled in the top of a mountain, bubbling up from a river, with a waterfall pouring in…It’s so amazing. That is probably my favorite thing to do here. Especially since there are usually a bunch of fat, 40-ish naked white guys enjoying the soak with you…the funniest part about that, since we live in the aforementioned bible belt, is that there are signs all the way up the 2 mile trail warning of possible nude bathers. I ruefully laugh every time I see those signs. To me they mean, “If you don’t like it, leave!!!” Prudish assholes.

It doesn't usually get as cold here, and there has never once been a blizzard. It cracks me up, though, because anytime there's a snowstorm people will say it's a blizzard, and really it's just snowing. That's all--32 degrees, no wind, and a lot of snow gently falling. Blizzard? Shoah. No one drives right in the snow either. They tailgate and speed in the middle of a snow storm. It makes me very nervous. They don't put sand down, either. They plow, but there's tons of roads and not enough snowplows (in my opinion), and they always wait until it stops snowing. So, no, we don't get storms like Maine. No ice storms either, which I LOVE!! Nothing is more beautiful than the morning after an ice storm with the whole world sparkling. The skiing is good here, and it's nice to have mild winters.

Okay, I guess that's it for now. Not much in the way of a great first post, but hey, I gotta set the bar low, so I have somewhere to go.

(can you tell the email I ripped off was to a friend in Maine?? It was to the friend who was unknowingly responsible for my discovery of blogging and NaNoWriMo...and on whom I had a bit of a crush. hee...)



Thanks for playing.
I wonder how many of us will still be blogging in 4 more years?




Thursday, October 19, 2006

Come See me!

My new blog is Lucky, Lucky Star


You could also click here, if you want to feed my stupid ego.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Ahem

Ok, so there were a lovely bunch of you who requested directions to the new place, back before I had decided where to go.
However.
Not a one of ya left an email address.
This I discovered after crafting the following email to send to you:


Hi everyone!

Sorry I took so long to get this out to you, I just wasn’t really sure what the final decision was going to be. Hell, I’m still not sure. But for now, Lucky Star is it. Thank you all so much for wanting to continue on this rollercoaster-on-crack journey of mine! I wish I had more time to read blogs…there are so many of you that I don’t read enough and I miss you.

Feel free to link me; I’m not hiding so much as finding some breathing room. ?

Be well.
Party on, Wayne.

Starsarelucky.blogspot.com


You guys are a bunch of dumbasses.
Good thing I'm one, too!!!
Love ya.
I guess I'll have to work to get the word out, and that's never a good thing for me.
Lay
Zee.
...kinda like Jay-Z...but less motivated and mogul-esque.

Ok, then.
I'm off.
Like your MOM's prom dress!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006


seahorse Posted by Picasa

I have moved.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Snow!

Snow!



If you're looking for ME, click here.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Sober.

And not in a "clean and--" manner.
More like...somber and serious.
For the first time in nearly 4 years, I am ready to shut down this blog.
(That sounded a lot more dramatic than I intended...)
I will start a new one and give the address to anyone who is on my sidebar,
or has made multiple comments.
It's probably time to shed the "bored housewife" skin, anyway,
since I am far from bored and barely even a housewife these days.
I am a student and a shitty-but-hoping-to-improve journalist.

I wish I knew how to disable comments for a while or to hide all my posts without deleting them.

I am floating in the thickness of air which lies somewhere between "Humble" and "Humiliated".
Not a bad place to hang out, all things considered, but I'd like to find the door.

Everyone be on your best behavior, if you please.
I did indeed open up the Pandora('s-dorky-cousin)'s Box of a blog and invite...
somewhere near all of the other writers at the newspaper into it.
As I said, before I realized how scathing my newspaper-related blog posts were, they really are more than welcome here.
This is me.
Well...part of me.
I am much more mouthy on here...

--Back to your regularly scheduled program--

Parents due to arrive in about 48 hours.
I have forgotten to even feel excited about this, so I will take a moment to do so.
---
-
--
Ok.
Consider me stoked.
Once a year is not often enough.
I will be thankful for this additional visit, even though it's short.

Will continue pondering the change of venue, and keep you all posted.
I have a really cool domain name that I've been wanting to use full-time,
so maybe I will.
Maybe I'll let go of something before it kills me...
for once.
Eh, maybe not.

Well.
I think I'll go cook dinner, and pretend that none of the dear, sweet kids from the paper have ever seen this page or any of its...dubious contents.
Ack.

p.s. after receiving a bunch of "wait for me!" comments, let me add: I will share the URL with any- and everyone who asks.
And...now that I've had time to calm down, I think I'll go ahead with the move--
but I'll do it because it's time to shake things up, and not because I feel naked and exposed in front of a bunch of people who I'll see in real life but who don't actually know me...that's a freaky-fucking feeling, in case any of you haven't experienced it.

Here's what I need: Someone who knows how to transfer archives from here to another site...anyone...?

p.p.s. I realized that I should probably explaina little bit about what happened.
To summarize: I was extremely stressed out about, well, about life in general and specifically about the new expectations associated to my job at my school newspaper. I have no excuse for venting so ruthlessly here, but I hope the bigger picture can be understood. I am a giant lame-o who doesn't deal well with change--takes me a minute to adjust to new ideas and expectations. I was emotionally drained and attempting to drag myself and my two unrulier-by-the-second 6 year olds into Back To School Mode after a long and...unruly-making summer. I know, poor me. I am a baby, I guess. Anyway, it was just a lot for me to wrap my head around--I was scared of trying to switch my focus from reviews to previews and I began doubting that I was even doing a good enough job for it to be worth it to continue. I began wondering if I had the energy to do what it would take to be good at this job and its new responsibilities. All I wanted to do was sit in the cab of an abandoned truck and listen to CDs that don't belong to anyone anymore and cry for all the unspoken conversations, all the days I could have hugged but never did. But I couldn't wallow forever and we had to clean out more of his stuff from the garage this weekend and the truck is gone. Gone. I hate that I finally get my privacy back at this cost--I didn't mind, I really didn't. But I feel guilty for being happy to shower with the door open, and I feel guilty for being glad to have a guest room to offer my parents tomorrow...yes, in a house this size, we really only had one extra bedroom. Fuck, how did this turn into this? I guess...it's still heavy on my mind and in my heart and I don't care who I'm talking to right now. However. I wish I had expressed my concerns to my editor instead of trying to sort through it all first. I wish he knew how highly I really think of him.

Monday, September 11, 2006

September Eleventh

The first thing that struck me about the day was the date.
9/11
911
It was surreal,
and sad in such a large and encompassing way that it was almost too much to fold it into me.
I am so sorry for the thousands of people out there who lost someone (or more) close to them that day.
I am so sorry for the thousands of people who are still afraid to fly because of it.
I am so sorry for the people who believed with all their hearts that they are right and we are wrong.

***********

Now.

My brain is on fire.
I guess I should watch who I mind-fuck.

Yes, yes, I know--
I'm hilarious.
Actually, I wouldn't know how to mind-fuck if you gave me a Mensa Kama Sutra step-by-step manual.
Unless you're talking about dirty thoughts, cuz I have plenty of those,
and I know how to share them.
But.
that's not what mind fucking is.
Why am I stuck on this subject???

Odd...I am so accustomed to being flighty that talking about one thing for more than 2 seconds make me feel stuck in a rut.
I'm a weirdo.

A weirdo who would like very much to be asleep right now.
I think I have had too many late nights and not enough late mornings recently.
I shall work to rectify that.
I took down a couple of posts today, because I fear I may have opened the door and ushered in some newspaper-related guests.
That's ok.
They are actually more than welcome here, but I am sure you know the posts I am referencing.
Ugh.
I was just venting...

How about if I stop being such a self-centered bitch?
How are YOU GUYS doing?
What's new with you?
I want to know.
Tell me what you did over the weekend, and make it good--
we can have a little round of, "Lie or Lay",
and you can either tell a lie or get laid.
er.
No, back up.
You can tell a lie or tell a truth...and I'm not sure what "lay" has to do with that, but I like the way it sounds.
And feels.
And...
uh...

Ready, Set, Go!!

edit:
Um. It's official...
If I would have read my horoscope today, it would have said, "You're an ass. Stop talking."
Or something like that.
I should write horoscopes.
Or be a "Dear Abby" impersonator.
Or just crawl back in my hole and revel in my creativity...
where did it go?
I had some once, I know.
Back...
so long ago.

Domestic Goddess: I have far less on my plate than you do, which is why I have time to blog...it does little to explain why I weigh twice as much as you, though.
Who's the third founding father??
I watched Bowling for Columbine today and blushed.
And...this project is amazing...You are truly a Goddess.
Why am I answering comments in an addendum to my blog post?
Why am I sitting here at all, when I have Astronomy homework to finish and a tooth-aching husband to hang out with??
Ok, I'm off.
Like a prom dress.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

I logged in because I had something to say

But that was an hour ago...
really?
I think my time stamp is off.
It feels like it was at least 3 hours ago.
Hm.
Whatever.

The point is, I am marginally "over" my tantrum from yesterday.
I realized I can't quit, because I have a 3 credit class which is tied into working for the paper.
Bah.
So much for my "I don't think I'm what you're looking for" speech.
Besides, that's bullshit.
I'm not sure what's going on, but I know he (editor) knows I can write,
and I know he knows I can do this job.
What I don't know is why the fuck I'm having such a hard time interviewing people.
Ok, so I've only had a few tries, and really no idea what the hell I'm looking for when I go into it, and that couldn't be good.
I guess I am just going to have to try to get by on reviews and a few opinion pieces...

Ok, I'm finished with that rant.
For now.

I have a much more exciting and creative project underway, anyway.
Outweigh,
Thatway
Yourway?
Whatever.
I'm brainstorming and will let you know if/when it turns into anything.
All that matters is that it's going to be fun and hard.
My favorite...
ha.

I am glad it's Saturday night, because that means the chances of anyone reading this drivel are very slim.
I cannot promise a better post next time, but I will sure try.

Whoever mentioned doing a story on my dentist did not have a bad suggestion--
he IS an alumnus, after all!
And a former Chronicle reader, to boot.

I also loved amusing's suggestion for a story, but...
since I'm supposed to be doing theatre previews, articles, and reviews, I don't think that'll really fly.
And it's precisely why I have no desire to be a journalist.
The news has always frightened and baffled me--
the collection of it, the presentation of it.
Shut up.
I'm serious.
I'm pretty sure it was just last week that I was proudly declaring that I should change my major to journalism because it was my true calling,
so....
seriously, who's slipping me the Crazy Pills?
Is it the same person who's giving me Memory Loss and Weight Gain Pills????
Fuckers!!!!!

Ok, well, that was my hot date on the phone.
She'll be here shortly, to escort me to tonight's play.
Do not let the fact that she's a former lesbian influence your interpretation of those statements.
Unless your name starts with a....
Heh.

Oh, I suppose I should mention how I've spent my day:
luxuriously swaddled in high thread-count sheets, in enough positions to make your head spin.
Well, they made MY head spin.
Seriously.
Almost blacked out at one point.
there were also movies and breakfast-in-bed and a bath for me/nap for him.
Very
very
Nice.
We haven't had a gooood lazy day in a while,
and we needed it.

I got home yesterday and the truck was not in the driveway.
I was slammed in the gut with a brief urge to puke, but it passed as soon as I realized hubby had probably just taken it for some cargo-related errand, but...
gah.
This morning we were watching VH1 Classic and Quiet Riot, "Cum on Feel the Noise" came on.
I didn't cry, but I was sucked into reminiscing about the funeral.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I am so emotional about this...
I'm a deep-feeler.
And it's strange but I really like crying.
It's when I think about him without feeling sad that I get freaked out.
I panic--"why doesn't it feel like he's gone?"
Oh, I also took the opportunity of a long drive last night to cry loudly.
Hadn't done that before.
It felt good to let out the barking sobs and suspiciously wail-like sounds.
And meanwhile I keep putting off sending an email to all the brothers to ask them for (content) contributions to the book I'm making.
Blah.

Hey, you're welcome!
If I can bring anyone down on a Saturday night, that just makes my day.
I think I need to start a blog for my thoughts on him.
Ok, maybe I already started one...
I just need to get un-lazy and use it.
Do you even know how hard it is to post to more than one blog????
Jesus.
it's like...so crazy, that you have to add extra syllables--
Cuh
ray
zeeeeeeeeee.
Trust me, it's nearly impossible.
I have like 8 with this account, and I
nev
er
use them.
I don't want to hear your success stories, so keep 'em.
In fact, keep the damn things
AND
fuck riiiight
off.
Or on, I dont' really care.

Ok, see?
I'm cheerful.
Be cheerful, too.
I'm going to go enjoy a super fun play with a super fun friend.

Friday, September 08, 2006

It's a grey day

And I'm feeling a little frustrated.
Hopefully I can do better next time.
Hopefully I can learn how to interview people...
Fuck.
So, that restaurant I was supposed to write about?
Turns out it wasn't supposed to be a review after all.
I don't know how much more of this I'm willing to put up with, honestly.
I was not told it wasn't a review--
I was told to interview the guy and see what I could find for a story.
Guess what this SEASONED, 2-interview journalist found from a couple of guys who only wanted to talk about the restaurant?
Nada.
Not a damn thing.
I will share in the blame:
as I said, I am new to interviewing.
Not only that, but I never read newspapers, so I don't even have the feel of what a "good" news story is.
I also didn't know I was supposed to be WRITING a news story.
I thought it was supposed to be an overview of the place, with some history/background info.
No mention was ever made of "Hey, make sure you're not writing a review."
Bah.
I know, D-man, I kow--
that's what writing for a paper is all about.
Journalism sucks balls.
No, I take that back.
I would rather suck just about anyone's (freshly washed and disease-/cootie-free) balls than do this.
And the great news is that I have 2 more interviews to arrange and collect for an article due by Wednesday, and 2 plays to watch this weekend to review--
and then probably get told I am not allowed to review them.
I'll give it a couple of weeks, but after that, I'm hitting the road.
It is sucking my will to write, and I don't really need that.
I do know that I wouldn't want to write for a newspaper again, though.
I need to be my own boss...
("Oh, dear dad, can you see me now? I am myself like you somehow...")

Sorry for the whiney rant...
I should probably have breakfast before reading my stories.
Ok, so not only did I write a pretty great review (well, it had some funny lines, at least) which then got stripped down to the facts of the interview, but THAT got cut just about in half and is left dry and lifeless.
It sucks--hard and with teeth.
I am thinking that maybe the editorial process could be changed.
I don't know.
Maybe he wants me to quit.
Maybe he's trying to get me to quit by making all my articles look like shit.
Maybe someone's paranoid...
It's really a bad article, though.
And I wrote a pretty decent one.
I feel terrible...and this is why I'm ranting.
Do I care if my words are fucked with?
Eh, not that much.
I'm an egotistical writer, sure, but the main reason this is pissing me off is that I looked those guys in the eye (the restaurant owners, and yes, they share an eye, what of it??) and told them I would write a good article.
Because I know how to write.
I forgot the tiny little part about the editor and his axe.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I feel like I let them down.
And I tried hard not to, but they aren't going to know that.
I'm half-tempted to take in a copy of what I originally wrote, just so they know I tried...but all that does is make the paper look bad.

I hate it.

I have a dentist appointment at 9, shit! I better fucking go shower!! Dammit.
And then...
the gym.
And then...
kids home from school and go pick up babysitter so I can go to my Chronicle class.
Fuck.
I am far too emotional at the moment to talk to the editor, but I really should.
I should also not be writnig about newspaper stuff on here, in case someone finds me.
Oh well.
Fuck it.
I just need to ask him what the hell he wants from me.
It sounds like I missed the greatest year to be on the staff--
last year they had restaurant reviews,
last year they had hilarious, great columns.
For some stupid ass reason, the head editor has said, "No more columns in A&E".
what the fuck???
Those are the best part!!
Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
What do I know?

Ok, like I said, I gotta run.
I have precisely 35 minutes to eat, shower, and dress, so I better run.

Wish me happy teeth cleaning!



Where I would rather be... Posted by Picasa



More from Hawaii... Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Goooood morning, world wide web!!

One thing I love about being wrenched from my bed at the christless hour of 7:00
(yeah, shut up...I know it's not very early)
is that I now I have the
entire
day
spread out before me.
I have a bunch of homework and an interview with a restaurant owner,
but it feels great knowing I haven't procrastinated
(yet).

Guess what else feels good?
No, not my hands down your pants, but that's a good guess.
Also not your hands up my shirt--
although, I should clarify...
both of those examples would
actually
feel good.
Verrrrrrrry (purr-ifically) good.
However.
My point was that that's not what I'm talking about!
But look at that--I ended up talking about it anyway!!!
ha.
Shows where MY head is, eh?
Ok, so back to the subject...
Well.
Maybe not.
See....I don't remember what the Heff I was going to say!
"was that a typo?" you may be wondering.
Nope.
It's my new curse word.
I mean, shit, Hugh Hefner is an important man in the history of our nation's skewed perception of beauty, and I should think that earns him the right to be a swear word.
He really is a bit of a god...
I mean, how many other octogenarians can live polygamously with two insanely beautiful women??
Sweet.
I probably sounded contradictory just then, but I can't help it.
I'm in awe of the man, fer Hefsake!
Also, if you're not watching "Sexual Healing" on Showtime, then you should be.
It's my current favorite show.
Although..."Weeds" is right up there, and "House" just started a fresh season, so...
wow, it's gonna be tough to get homework done with all those great choices!

Ok, so the original "other" reason it's a good day
(or the object of the "feeling good")
is that I finally found the cable to connet my camera to the computer for purposes of
PICTURE
UPLOAD-a-rama.
Yipppeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

And I just remembered that I have a whole bowl full of ripe avocados....
and another full of ripe peaches....
I love good produce.
It makes me almost as giddy as good wine.
Ha.

Ok, so without further ado, here is the famed
Green
Traverse City Film Festival
T-Shirt!!!
Sent by the lovely and fabulous-in-87-different-ways Domestic Goddess,
signed by the boss-man himself
AND a NYT Bestselling author---
I give you---
MY TA-TAs!


Voila! Posted by Picasa

p.s. Blogger photo isn't taking my calls and Hello couldn't get Blogger to pick up for a while, either, but finally we tricked the dirty ole coot by using *69. Ha! Gotcha, Bloger, GOTCHA.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Sleepy afternoons are for....

doing homework and tying up odds and ends.
Which is too bad, because I was hoping a sleepy afternoon could be
slept
in.
Like a freshly made bed.

And now I'm being summoned and I have not the energy to return to blogging
upon completion of the task I'm about to perform.
oh, it's a big one:
walk up one set of stairs
find game on computer
See?
Tough stuff.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Happy Labor Day!

Hiking, pastries and beer, oh my!

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Weather like this,

or whether like that...
ha.
But seriously--
weather like this makes me want to stand up and shout.
Sing, dance, etc.
Will have to think of something fun to do with the kiddos.
Tonight: girl's night out.
Yes, I realize it's Sunday.
But tomorrow's a holiday!
So...we're going to attempt to find some sort of hot spot tonight.
Drinking, possible dancing, possible karaoke.
I haven't had a good Girl's Night OUT in a while.
Tomorrow, a good hike with the J. and then a birthday party for a friend's little boy.
Should be a helluva weekend, all around.

I just found a piece of paper on my desk, as I rounded up little scraps to throw away
(somehow, I've managed to have trash cans in every room of this house except THIS ONE. And I'm the only one who ever puts things in the trash, so I really ought to have one in MY OFFICE...bleh.)
and I'd like to share it with you.
It's one of those hastily scribbled thoughts from a late night of tossing and turning.
Interestingly, it ties in with the thought I had last night:
each of them is expressing my concern over my writer's block.
My once silvery tongue is now more like slivery--
because, perhaps, someone told me that if I licked a tree branch at night
it would turn into.......
MORNING WOOD.

hahahahaaaaaaaaaa!!
Why, yes, I DO think I'm funny, why do you ask??
So then last night I was thinking about it and I began to wonder if the problem was more in my head, or in my own perception that it was a real problem.
I was thinking...
What if the problem is simply that I have stopped dazzling myself?
(and no, that's not a masturbation joke...)
Truly, I think that could be a part of it.
That and the fact that I just haven't written anything exciting in a long time.
So.
I should quit stressing about it and just let it flow...like I used to.
I guess there is no use living in the past.
Just let go and
BE.
Stupid girl.

I am so wrapped up in my own fears that I can't write.
Hell, I can barely even conjure a proper fantasy inside my own head for my own
personal and
immediate
use.
If ya catch my drift.

I don't know if I am meant to live in this world.
This white picket fence world...
it feels like walking around in someone else's life.
But I've had this thought before, and it always ends with my concession that I couldn't be happy if I had as much freedom as I think I want.
Ok, hands up--
who thinks this paragraph is the definition of CRAZY???
Come on, don't be shy. Raise those hands.
Shit, I can't count that high...
Oh well.
I explained it to someone once...
I said I balance on the edge, between appreciating and enjoying my life and wanting
wanting.
And that is how I can write.
but I think that's a lie.
I think I can't feel both contentment and restlessness at exactly the same time.
Within moments of each other, sure.
But not concurrently.
Not simultaneously.
Not synchronized...
I got sick of wanting, and so I stopped.
I don't really dare to Want anymore.
It hurts too much.
So.
Here I am, back at square one: can't write.
My head feels like a whole bag of pretzels.
And I HATE pretzels.
They're so bland...
and TWISTY!

Ok.
Maybe I'll go make eggs for sweet Max and then I'll come sit here in the quiet and open a blank word document and see what comes out.
Maybe.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Good Night

and....good....crap, what's that word I'm looking for?
good fuck.
Yup.
I wish you all a good fuck.
Everyone needs one once in a while.
Say...once a day or so.

My body is achy, but my mind is clear.
The stress over the newspaper gig has passed;
my editor is the king.
He is giving me the city theatre beat--
and having someone else cover the on-campus stuff, the stuff I was stressed about.
I can have a lot more fun with the city stuff.
I still have to finish up the one I started, but that's ok.
I feel like such a slacker.
I haven't turned in an article for any of the last 7 issues.
Eek.

I am just glad the clouds have parted a little bit...
I was feeling very overwhelmed.

I am finally letting myself cry again...a little at a time.
It feels like months have passed since August 12, 10:30pm.
Not so.
Only 19 days.
That BareNakedLadies song reminds me of it...the way they count how long it's been since different things happened.
It's been 17 days since his room looked like his room.
It's been 13 days since they put him in the ground.
It's been 19 days since he sat on my couch and we discussed his friend's penis. hee...fairly large, so they say.
The crazy part is it really feels like he's still here.
It's been 4 hours since I told the kids to get the hell out of the bed of his truck.
It's been 10 hours since the sheriff's office called to tell us they won't be able to helps us find his other truck.
Big penis-friend has been driving it for a year or so and he hasn't been reachable since...19 days ago.
I saw him that day.
No, I didn't see his penis. :)
He wanted in on some hot lesbian action that G. was planning and that's how it came up.
Came up...oy!

sorry for the downer.
You know me: if it's in my head, it hits this page.
So...sorry.
I know you don't technically mind, but I am still going to apologize for not being a more entertaining blogger lately.
Maybe I should quit stressing about it and just do whatever I want, eh??

Maybe what I want is to go to bed and think dirty thoughts before drifting off to sleep.
....maybe.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I need blogging like a junkie needs a vein--

Or like Ed needs Sophia.

Well.

So today was my first day of complete freedom.
And it feels daaaaaaaaaaamn good.
I lolled about in bed, reading Robert Browning and watching "Dogma".
I made french toast and eggs for my husband.
I watched a lot of music videos...I forgot how much I love them!

Today my History textbook arrived; the one for the course I will not be able to finish on time unless I turn on one assignment each week starting now.
Stupid, STUPID Lisa.
The last minute is the best minute, right?

I have been feeling scattered and unmotivated for the past week or so,
and that is beginning to change.
Had a good talk with hubby last night.
A talk about my newspaper commitments...
I think I've gotten past my anxiety there, or at least the bulk of it, but...
I am still a little fearful.
I think I'll take to interviewing like a duck to water, but for now it is the great unknown
so
therefore
it scares me.
He gave me lots of great advice.
Now if only I could remember it all...

I also need to force some structure on myself, or my "free" days will turn into wasted days.

Aren't you glad you stopped by???
I'm just a laugh a line over here!
A thrill a minute.

Eh.
I'm getting my groove back, a note at a time.
Two steps forward, one step back.
Somethin' like that.
Or maybe it was never really here...
a figment of my imagination.
I feel like I am fighting my way out from under a heavy blanket...
depression creeps in.
But I will tell it to fuck off.
And it will.
I hope.

I love how soft and springy my curls are when they're almost dry from my shower.
I love how smooth my skin is after a luxurious coating of lotion.
I am freezing in my house.
I am overdosing on strawberry-rhubarb pie and vanilla ice cream...
I have had a headache for days and days and days.
Yesterday I thought it was leaking out of my head and invading other parts of my body.

Friends are moving on Saturday; will be closer to us--yaaay!
hoping to talk hubby into a one nighter in Moab with the kiddos...
Would be good.
For all of us.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

this is an audio post - click to play

What the fuck???

I actually made an audiopost with some goddamned MEANING and it didn't post.
Figures.

I got caught in the traffic o' Presidential visit this morning.
Why am I so stupid??
I do not know.
I sat at one, unchanging red light for 9 minutes.
I was on the verge of panic.
It felt very claustrophic, not to mention the late-for-class factor.
Fluck.
(yes, that's a new word. It heralds the correlation between "fuck" and "luck". It should really have a positive connotation, though, don't you think?)

Classes were good.
Parking was eeee-ville.
Hubby is cute, and trying really hard to make sure I do not feel ignored...

I am so hungry I could gnaw my arm off.
So why the hell am I HERE???
Well.
I had to pee before shopping and gyming.
Yes, that's a word.
Fuck off.
Today I think I'll be here when my kids get home.
'magine that.

Happy Tuesday.
Oh!
I may have pictures soon.
Cables, cables.
(thanks, for the tip, you.)

Monday, August 28, 2006

It's a great day to be around

Happy 8 year anniversary to Mr. Bored Housewife!




(a reprint of last year's post)

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.

**********

Today I stopped holding my breath over the question of whether or not the school bus would be running this year.
IT CAME!!!
See, here in suburban-hell, there are like 18 elementary schools in a one mile radius of here.
So there are not very many school bus runs.
Somehow, we scored one, and the stop is right next to our house.
This is such a beautiful thing.
I can't even express the depth of my joy...
The boys seem to grasp the urgency of not missing the bus,
whereas they have no respect at all for my pleas of, "Hurry! We're late!" if I'm driving them.
Not to mention I don't have to fight the crowds of other parents picking up kids--
AND it buys me an extra 15 minutes or so (I don't know what time it drops them off yet).
Praise Jesus and his eight tiny reindeer!

Now I have 2 hours left and I can't decide if I should go grab some groceries, hit the gym, or simply loll about and feel lazy!!!
What a beautiful, geometrically perfect day.
...oh, and I think I'm going to stick with my Astronomy class, so grab your earplugs.
It's going to be a whiney few months!

Happy day to all of you.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Krispy Kremes are neither crispy, nor creamy--discuss

Ok, so some of them have cream fillings, but the donuts themselves are not technically what I would consider "creamy".
And if you ever see a crispy donut?? Please don't eat it!

Today was crisp, though.
Dammit, I hate unintentional segues.
Not as much as I hate unintentional Segways...
Ahem.

Tomorrow marks the day that my husband and I have been married for 8 years.
Pretty damn cool.
The kids start school, so we'll have the day to ourselves.
He has a few conference calls in the morning and an evening flight, so we're going to do lunch.
Hawaii was technically our anniversary trip, but I hate for the day to pass without being acknowledge.
I sort of just realized yesterday that I still have to get him a present!
Criminy. What the fucking hell do you get for the man who earns all the money you could spend???
It's an odd sensation.
Besides which, I don't have any
frigging
clue what he needs or wants.
Aside from some fucking golf club, but I'll be damned if I've been paying attention.
I think he's planning to get a whole new set soon.
But I don't frigging remember.

I got stung by a hornet or a wasp or something today.
Just sitting at the gas station, with my window down.
J. was filling up, on our way up the mountain for a hike with the kids and dog.
We make the coolest lesbian family; oh, if only we liked each other "that way"!
(sorry...just a private joke: we've been on trips together, dating back to the early 90s and have been asked "one bed or two?" on more occasions than we care to admit. We also used to get propositioned for 3-somes, back when we were Mormon-virgin girls. bah. What a frickin waste!!)
Ahem.
Ok.
Anyway, I didn't even see the sting-y thing until I felt it.
The sting didn't hurt but it wasn't too pleasant for the next few minutes.
Thank god I had a bottle of ice water to put on it.
I haven't been stung since I was a kid, and have actually fancied myself a bit of a bee charmer.
If there is a bee in the house, I let it crawl onto my hand and I carry it outside.
I do this quite often, and have never been stung.
Bah.
Stupid bees.

I am beyond stressed.
School starting, hard class, homework, heightened responsiblity at the newspaper, lingering family "stuff" from the hideous, dream-like occurence of 15 days ago, and general worries.

Too much change.
Hubby thinks we're moving to Kansas City, now.
Why do I tell you this?
Because I'm hoping to jinx the plan.
I figure, it worked for Texas, why not?
Eh.
We'll see.

I hope I don't forget anything important for my boys' first day of school.
They are going to have so much fun.
I am going to weep with joy.
And then go shopping for some unknown spectacular anniversary gift for the best husband on the planet.
And.
Do homework.

Anyone have some headache pills???

(I feel like a whiner, just for the record. But the cool thing is that I have been returning to myself lately...a self that none of you has ever known. a self that is...self-less, coincidentally. I love people, and I love helping them. Life is good.)

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Last night

I composed in my head a lovely blog post, and the start of a story.
Fuck if I can remember 'em though.
I just need to give in, and go live alone and be that crazy artist chick that everyone's a little afraid of.
It would be so much easier.
Then I could sit bolt upright and dash for my laptop in the middle of the night without my husband acting all suspicious and/or interupting my train of thought with his (perfectly reasonable) stupid questions!!
So, instead, I lie awake and spin tales which are lost forever.
Oh well.
As we've learned, through trial and error (but mostly error), my thoughts have a short shelf-life.
If I try to write somethnig down which sounded brilliant in my head only moments before,
I usually end up with Grade A turkey poo.
Or Grade F mouse poo...
Anyway, you get the point.

Today I am off to lunch and a movie with some good girl friends.
There is too much drama in their lives;
I feel sad for this and hope it abates soon.

I am wearing new shoes,
and may have actually uttered the phrase, "I think these shoes make me look fat."
I belong in the Whiney Women Hall of Fame, don't I?
Oh well.
They do!
But I'm wearing them anyway.
If you can't be fat and be ok with LOOKING fat, then--
er.
...diet?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Piss.
I hate that part.
nah, I look pretty good.
But I have very small feet and I'm used to wearing very big shoes.
It's all about symmetry and balance--
small feet make big parts look bigger, right?
Well.
Whatev.

I'm going to have a fun day.
I hope you do, too.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Cro-Magnon Blogging

In which I transpose penned words from lulls in my non-computerized day.

8-24
Class is not starting yet.
Too many girls.
Everyone
so
young.
That guy looks familiar.
That girl is part of the play for which I need to garner interviews for my preview piece.
--wow, that last sentence was---
awkward, at best.
Coherant, in its wildest, steamiest, most technicolorful dreams!

(and then a man introduced himself as "Not Professor Whatever-the-fuck"...can't remember his name. Anyway, he said our professor was doing a triathalon today and would be with us next time. He then instructed us to go to the department website and take a test to see if we can handle the class...GULP. I don't like the sound of that. Astrology--I wish! Physics is so totally not my bag, baby.)

And now I'm on to English.
A couple of familiar faces...
One straight out of a fantasy
And another straight out of--
my last English class.
Ha.
I am shiny.
Want to blot my face.
Ok, not so pretty as "shiny" implies--
red-faced and sweat
eeeee.
Must
find
something to wipe my face.
Hands won't do.
Shirt?
Too tank-y.
Strike the adjective-maker.
And the "too".
It IS a tank.
Ah, now I'm cooling off.
So many people who know each other...
This classroom has been double-booked.
Sorting.
My first class only lasted 63 seconds.
Ok, possibly it was more like 64.
BUT.
That's my absolute highest limit.
And now we're taking roll.
Role?
Hm.
I'm mostly amazed at how many people go by completely unrelated names to the ones on the roll (role).
But hey.
Perogatives, etc.

Ok, that's the end of my notebook ramblings.
I started writing the review for a restaurant I haven't visited yet...
but I read about it, and I'm sure this will reflect my reaction!!
Shut it.
I also scored an interview with the theatre student I overheard, in my first class.
See, as you may recall, the class was rather rudely...
truncated.
curtailed.
abbreviated.
Shortened.
So as we were all packing our things, I asked her about the play and told her who I was.
She confirmed that she is in the play and was somewhere between willing and enthusiastic to give me an interview.
I explained that I wasn't really prepared for it, so I would rather schedule a future date, but then we just went for it anyway.
I got her number, in case I have follow-up questions, and I got the number of the lead actress so I can get an interview with her.
Oh, my editor will be so proud!!
I saw him right after that, but he was talking to someone so I didn't want to bother him.
Oh, the theatre student wanted to know if we needed more writers, too.
I would kind of like her help with this whole preview business, I mean, what the fuck do I know about theatre???
Nothing, that's what.
She wrote for her high school paper, and loved it, so it's not really a stretch.

Ok.

Happy first day of class to me.

I'll let you know how that test goes...
eek.
AND.
I just discovered that my Independent Study History class that I "started" last January and is due in precisely 6 weeks (with 5 assignments, each due no closer than 7 day intervals...) is missnig half of the textbook.
They sent it to me and I never looked that closely, butthey only sent volume 2 and the assignments start with volume 1.
Fuck me.
Time to get that extension.
And remind me to NEVER do Independent Study again. :)

NEWSFLASH!!!!!!!!!

I am speechless.
(no, that's not the announcement, although it's pretty big news, I know.)
There are no words to describe the way this makes me feel.
I just.
Poor Pluto!!!

Wednesday, August 23, 2006


Hawaii pictures, alright! This one is from my first trip--TEN YEARS AGO!! It was taken to showcase my hellish sunburn, but frankly, I like how it showcases my lovely legs and my overall thinness. Yippee! Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Cluster fuck, anyone?

And while we're on the subject, why does that sound like a chocolate and nut treat to me??

Ok, so it wasn't that bad, but today was full of minor cluster fuckage.
No chafing or anything, but jesus.
I got pretty much everything on my pretty long list accomplished, so I can't really complain.
...and yet, here I am.
Complaining.
Ah, well.
C'est la vie.

Picked up my books and opted not to wait in the 43 mile long line for a new parking pass.
I have another week before mine runs out, so I think I'll just keep my eye on things.
I found one of my buildings today...
it's on the very northern edge of campus, nearly all the way west.
I couldn't find any parking lots, so I'm not sure what I'll do.
I also bought two very hip, very comfortable pairs of shoes.
And some new sunglasses and a grrrrr-ate Lion (izod-esque) shirt.
Yes....I did the growly "great" on purpose.
To go with the "Lion" thing.
I know...
I'm so damn clever I can hardly stand it, too.
It's ok.
Anyway...
I also spoke to my children's school principal.
We agreed on a compromise: they will be allowed to eat lunch together.
I am still slightly agitated that they are not going to be in the same home room,
and I wish I knew where they will be placed as far as Math and Reading.
I guess it doesn't matter.
They'll be fine.
I just.
I just.
I just!!!!!!
Siiiigh.
I just want them to be happy and confident and not shy and not scared and not anxious.
They are used to being together
ALL.
THE.
TIME.
And I'm afraid it will affect their ability to learn.
Fuck.
I am freaking out again.
If one of them is in a "lower" math or reading class than the other, I can see how that might be a problem.
But I don't think they are.
And I hate the thought of them having to line up in the morning to file into separate classrooms.
And to line up for lunches and recesses without each other.
Feel free to tell me that you think it's healthier for them to be separate.
I will feel free to tell you to fuck off.
I know my children.
We are very relaxed and go-with-the-flow-y around here.
But they should be together.
Fuck.
I'll talk to hubby when he gets home.
Maybe we can still change it.
I'm such a pussy.
(yes, yes, you are what you eat. har. har. HAR. No, I haven't, you dirty birds.)

Ok.
Wow, enough of that rant!
Sorry.

I called a friend today.
A friend who was out of town when our family was shaken up last week, burying a grandmother.
Sadness, sadness all around.
I don't dare to wonder what my 3 will be.
Bad things come in threes, you know.

My friend did a beautiful job on my hair today.
He is really talented.
He taught me a new trick--
something that takes a lot of work, and I will NEVER do on a daily basis,
but could be fun for the occasional night out.
I will never understand how women can spend that much time on their hair daily.
Blows my mind.
Wouldn't you rather SLEEP???
I would.

So the good news is: I took some Braless Tuesday pictures.
The bad news is: I haven't uploaded them yet, and I don't know when I will.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe
NOT.
heh.

I wish the world was smaller, and had fewer rules.
I wish I could turn into a bird and fly over land and sea--
so much sea.
And landing, turn back into the sultry little thing that I am,
and slip in through a door, fortuitously left unlocked.
I would exhale over you like a sheet of the finest silk, and wrap you gently to me.
You would flutter awake, eyes still foggy with dreams of me, but your smile would tell me you knew I was real.
I want my hands to learn the hard and smooth and hairy surfaces of your body--
sending reports like love letters to my brain.
I want to feel your breath in my ear as you whisper the things I know you would say.
I want to kiss you--
anywhere, everywhere.
Your mouth belongs with mine.
I want to feel your arms as they draw me to you;
strong arms, sure arms.

"Want in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up faster."

That's what my mama used to say.

Happy day to you all, whatever the fuck day it is when you read this.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Mondays are actually good, sometimes

Mondays are back to routine, and back to business.

Again, I thank you each for your dear comments.

I feel like changing the subject would be disrespectful, but I also feel like I cannot dwell on this any longer.
Even his girlfriend remarked yesterday how much better she feels already--
and how she feels a little guilty and a lot surprised that only a week has passed, leaving her so much lighter.
I agreed.
I think it's because we grieved so hard, so deep.
And now...it's a reprieve.
We finally pounded it into our heads that yes, he IS gone.
No more denial, although it was a strangely comforting feeling to repeat, "This can't be true," etc.

My house is sorely in need of a deep cleaning.
I think a good Fall Cleaning is almost more important than a Spring cleaning--
kids home making messes all summer, tracking in grass clippings, playing in sandboxes!
The sun was coming througha window the other day at just such an angle as to illuminate the dust particles in the air.
I found myself frantically breathing through my nose:
it looked like there was more dust than oxygen in the air.
Friggin' scary.
And probably not that great for our lungs, etc.
So...time to dust and vacum (although this dust-sighting was on the main floor of my home, which has all tile floors, and leather or wood furniture. there are a couple of rugs, but maybe that's why there's more dust in the air...? Dunno.)
I found myself wanting to turn on the vacum and just wave the hose around in the air!
Eek.
I learned a cool cleaning trick at the bridal shower I went to the other day.
Take your lint trap out of your dryer every couple of months and wash it with soap and water.
If you're using a fabric softener that comes in sheet form, there is a substance on it that clogs that screen and will become a fire hazard.
Besides, if you have a clean screen, your dry times go down by ten or fifteen minutes per load.
JACKPOT!!
Yes, I'm a housewife, and don't you forget it!!

So, school.
I got the kids a bunch of awesome clothes yesterday.
That never gets old.
I love buying clothes, period, and when it's "necessary" it's even more fun.
And they're so cute!!
I just need to find them some good shoes, and we'll be all set.
...they are 6 and I haven't even thought about teaching them to tie their shoes because they haven't had lace-up shoes since the Doc Martens we got a few years ago...I want to find some more of those, in fact.
They made me almost-horny.
Anyway, this is just further proof that I am a lazy, semi-shitty mother.
Oh well.
At least they're smart boys, so I won't handicap them too much.

Me, I just need some shoes and to go get my hair dyed, and I'll be ready to rumble.
Oh...I guess I ought to go get my books, too.
Our school bookstore has a cool little setup so I can buy them on-line and just go pick them up at the bookstore in a special, short line.
Which is not special in the same way as the short bus, fyi.
I looked up my classes on the campus map and it would appear that they are spread out all over campus.
Awesome.
So, tomorrow is the day that I will go to campus and get books and figure out which parking lot I want to use, and maybe if I have time and/or get really anal, I will time myself to see how long it takes me to walk between buildings.
Hey!
I said, "maybe"!!!
...shut up.

Ok.
So I'm off to eat a yummy turkey sandwich, and go to the gym and make about 43 phone calls.
Hope you're having a good day, and yes, DG, I may actually post that hot shirt tomorrow!

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Today...

today I feel oddly at peace.
I don't know if it's because funerals really do offer closure,
or if it's because I am so tired that nothing seems real, let alone the thing I don't want to think about anymore.
I would say I've grieved well.
But this new feeling is odd.
It's like he's still here, just somewhere else right now.
The shock has worn off; I'm accustomed to this new and ugly information which has settled in the folds of my brain, rather stubbornly.
I cried so often and so hard that I guess maybe I'm out of tears for a while.
I'm not trying to get ahead of myself, but I have pretty tangible hope that my life will wend its way back to a pattern of normalcy soon.

The service was perfect.
Each brother spoke for a few minutes.
The oldest went first and was amazing.
I want a copy of his speech.
He is like his mother and I--a lover of words, both writing and reading.
I made a CD to play as background music during the one hour viewing before the service....
I carefully selected some of the sombre tunes from among his favorite heavy metal CDs.
No Leaf Clover-Metallica
Mama Said-Metallica
Silent Lucidity-Queensryche
When the Children Cry--White Snake (or Lion?) because it was a song his daughter loved to listen to with him. She calls it "The guitar song" because of the opening.
Anyway...
I somehow included a Quiet Riot track!
The one that starts out, "Come on feel the noise! Girls rock your boys!"
jeeeeezus.
I felt like such an idiot.

The place was packed.
They had to add more seating and open an extra little room.
Beautiful speeches by everyone.
My husband even managed to restrain himself from chewing out the Assholes.
These are people who took the two boys just older than Cameron as foster children when they were in high school.
They have remained important to each other, but when Galen got divorced they took his wife's side and turned their backs on him.
It hurt him so much.
So...Cam thought he would bring that up.
Fortunately he mentioned it to me and I gently suggested that it would be more appropriate to speak to them privately.
Galen would have HATED for him to make a scene.
The mother in question attempted to give Cameron a hug during the viewing and he looked her in the eye and said, "No, I don't think so," but that's as far as he went.
Praise the jeebus.
I mean, hell.
I'd like to tear those pricks a couple of new assholes, too, but that wasn't the time or place.
Not only did they disown him because of the divorce, but they also were just plain asshats to my mother-in-law back in the foster care days.
They took all the credit for the successes of the two boys and treated her like dirt in general.
Fuckers.

And the interment was almost more than I could bear, but then everything sort of went into peaceful mode.
It was a gorgeous day and an absolutely stunning cemetary.
His little spot is behind a grassy knoll...that would make him chuckle...with gorgeous, huge trees around it--very private and with a view of the whole valley.
It is just above his high school and only a mile or so from where his daughter lives.
She will visit him often.
There are bunnies there, and squirrels, which I think will make her visits especially nice.
They just scamper around, cuz it's kind of tucked away in the foothills.
She is so precious.
Her mother is amazing with her.

I hope I never lose anyone this close to me again.
Well, since that's not possible, I'll just hope for it to be a really long time.

In other news...
I just discovered that I can't take the sailing class I was so excited about.
It overlaps my niece's wedding weekend, which means my parents will be here and there will be lots of family stuff going on.
Piss.
Stupid 19 year olds who think they should get married!!!
Dude. Just start screwing him.

I hope I don't forget to go to class next week...
It's on Thursday.
I also better go get some school clothes for my kids, who start the following Monday.
That is also my 8th wedding anniversary.
And yes, I'll be getting myself a few things as well.
Mostly shoes.
I've noticed that I have a bunch of sandals, but only a slightly beaten-up pair of UGG clogs and some black, high-heeled boots.
What the hell?
How did I make it through last winter?
Bah.
I know I've gotten old when the thought of keeping on top of fashion makes me tired.

Here we are, back on another Saturday night.
And yet again I am feeling weary and in need of a bath.
This time...let's hope there is no knock at the door.

(Hawaii pictures coming soon)

Friday, August 18, 2006

The air smells like corn on the cob...

I can't explain it, but that's just how it is here.

Anyway...
here's a hint:
Don't wear high heels when you're planning to stand for 3 hours.
Faaaaaaaaack.
That was so retarded of me.
The viewing was really good, and I'm hopeful that tomorrow will be more of the same.
The best part of the night was when I discovered that my husband is actually dealing with this in his fashion.
Good.
The worst part of the night was...all the little moments when I remembered he's gone.

Anyway.
You guys have all shown your true colors this week...
I'm not sure what the actual colors are, but they are from the Warm & Wonderful pallette...
So, again...thank you.
Your compassion and sympathetic words have been absorbed like the dry little sponge that I am...
dry, because I've cried out about 40% of the moisture in my body.
Yes, I look pretty strange at the moment.
Ha.

I thought I felt like writing, but then the father-in-law arrived and I'm trying to burn a CD of his favorite songs for tomorrow, but I don't know what they are!
Oh well.

Time for bed.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Ok, enough of the heavy stuff

Again, I can't tell you guys enough how great it's been to pop in for so many wonderful cyber hugs.

I've reached that stage where I am over the shock, and my mind is used to having him in the forefront so it doesn't jolt me every time I think about him.

Anyway.
I just wanted to put something slightly less dark up.

So last night one of the brothers left his Audi here,
and he always lets me drive his cars, so I took it when I ran out to get Arby's at 10.
(I had realized that I hadn't eaten any meals and very few snacks all day, so it was time.)
La la la, fun to drive a different car, etc.
And then I gave it some gas and the pedal stuck to the floor.
It freaked me the hell out at first because I didn't know what was happening.
Fortunately, the brakes still worked and I made it to the side of the road and put the car in Park and turned it off.
I was only out of control for probably 10 seconds (it sped up, I braked, then let off the brakes and it sped up again, so I braked again and got off the road), but it was enough to shake me up.
So that was pretty sweet.

Before that I had a cool chat with a convenience store clerk as she rang up my husband's cigarettes.
There was a rainstorm starting and she commented on it.
I mentioned how much I love watching the lightening with my kids and she agreed.
Then she told me about her uncle who has been hit 3 times!
Crazy.

I have things I should be doing, so I think I'll end this.
Just wanted to pop in and let you all know I'm doing a bit better.
Viewing tomorrow night, funeral Friday.
Ack.

Thank you all again for being here with me.

The obituary's at harktheherald.com, if anyone's interested.

Monday, August 14, 2006

How do I begin?
First, thank you all so much for your kind words.
It means so much to me.

I just need to pour out some of my thoughts, so please, please don't feel like you have to comment; grief is awkward for those around the griever and I understand that very well myself.
I guess I'm putting some thoughts here because I feel like you should know more about what happened and who he was.

First of all, he always wore a helmet.
He also knew how to handle a bike better than anyone.
He pulled that thing out of skids a bunch of times.
I was writing a post when I heard him come into the house, and I sort of assumed he was still here.
When the doorbell rang, 15 or 20 minutes later I assumed it was my husband returning from a client site and he'd forgotten his keys or something.
Before I reached the door I realized that was a stupid thought.
There were 4 uniformed officers standing there and I knew it was something bad.
My thoughts leapt to the stupid things G. could have done.
He has a concealed weapons permit and my thoughts jumped there.
They asked if my husband was home.
They then asked my relationship to G.
They again insisted that they needed to speak to my husband, and I said, "Oh no...What did he (G) do?"
They said, "He passed away."
The previous interactions had been like lapping little waves and that was a tsunami.
So unexpected, so wrong.
Then they came in and we sat down and they told me a little bit about it and gave me a card and collected information about other immediate family.
They didn't do the greatest job.
They need a better set of questions.
They never asked how many brothers he had, and whether they should send an officer to tell his ex-wife (as it turns out, they should have; she thought the phone call was a practical joke), and hesitated over sending one to his mother because she lives so far away.
Um, DUH, fuckers, you can call one of the cops in HER town and send him.
Hello??
I was coherant enough to come up with that suggestion, but I feel bad I didn't think of telling them to send someone to his ex-wife.
When they told her, they said he had had an accident on his bike, and she said, "ok, which hospital is he at?"
When they told her that he was dead she said, "oh, then you must have the wrong guy. He wouldn't have crashed his motorcycle."
And she truly beleived what she was saying.
The cop insisted that it was him and it was then that she joined the rest of us in hysterical crying.
Super.
That was when she explained how great he was on his bike--I never knew that he was that good.
So what the fuck happened?
Anyway.
I had to personally tell 3 of the 5 brothers.
And his girlfriend--
the girlfriend he told all of us he had broken up with a year ago.
The girlfriend I knew he was still seeing.
The girlfriend who...is such a fragile creature that I can't stop worrying about her.
My husband didn't get it; no one did.
But I had to find her.
She didn't know yet and I couldn't let her see it on the news.
We had no way of reaching her Saturday night, but yesterday I went to her parent's house and took her mother with me to tell her (I didn't know where she lived or have a phone number).
That.
Was probably the worst thing I've ever had to do.
She needed him more than any of us can comprehend.
I can't think about it right now.
I'm going to go down later and take her into the funeral home so she can see him.
She's not family so they won't let her in...it's so unfair.

So.
As for what happened.
I guess he was racing up and down the street, without his helmet.
So very uncharacteristic of him.
He was popping little wheelies, and just showing off or something.
He lost control and flew from the bike, into a tree.
A tiny fucking tree, like 4 inches thick.
That tree is coming DOWN, by the way. That godamned tree.
It was the only thing he could have hit and he did.
A few inches to the side and we'd have a whole different story.
He was a big man, 6' 8".
How can he not be indestructible?
So. He died on impact.
I hate that the news story plays up the fact that he was speeding and not wearing a helmet--
I know those things caused his death, but that's not who he was.
He wasn't that guy who plows through life without regard to others (or of his own safety).
He was so considerate, so aware of other people.
He was aware of how hard my husband's constant business travel was on me; he was so kind to me.
We never talked about it or anything, but the softness in his voice, the compassion when he said, "Cameron's gone again? Wow..."
I should have
--ah, but that list could go on forever and it's pointless, anyway.
I know that he felt loved here, I know that he felt peaceful being part of our family and that is worth a lot now.
We gave him stability.
He wasn't home a lot, but we always had some good conversations when he was.
And I am so, so glad I got the chance to know him.

It's so weird. I go from being matter-of-fact and telling the story to feeling it and just sobbing again.

I didn't know this brother very well before he moved in here a year ago.
With 5 of them, I am closer to some and less so to others.
He had the reputation of sort of being the Asshole--
an ego as tall as he was.
He was Mr. Always-Right.
But he had begun to soften over the past few years and people closer to him had always said he had a soft core.
They were right.
He was an amazing father and a good person.
He really was smarter than most people, which is where the ego came from.
He was taller than most, too.
Got a basketball scholarship, so he obviously excelled there.

My kids were as curious as ever when I told them about what happened, full of a million questions.
They don't quite get it, but that's ok.
I had mentioned reincarnation to them a few days ago (as I tried to counteract mother-in-law's Mormon Resurrection speech...ugh) and so one of them said, "Maybe he'll come back as a bird." The other chimed in, "Yeah, if you see the giantest bird, it's him."

(oops. I kind of posted that mid-thought. J was here with french pastries--sorry, she wins the prize for best friend! Oh, and wine...I forgot the wine. That was more of a thank-you present for watching her dog, though.)

I guess I was nearly done.
I could go on and on.
I have been talking and crying non-stop since it happened, so the healing process feels like it's on target.
My eyes are still very puffy, and I keep forgetting to eat,
and I have to keep busy or I just cry.
There was something else I wanted to say about him, though.
I can't remember it right now.

I keep thinking he's just not here right now and then I remember.
Jesus.
Oh, I remembered the thing I was going to say!
Yes, saying "Jesus" reminded me, actually.
He was staunchly opposed to organized religion, and had often said, "If God himself showed up and told me the Mormons were right, I would still not believe it."
So.
As a person who hasn't lost someone since she herself was a staunch mormon...
it is interesting to wonder what he's experiencing right now.
I still firmly believe in an after-life, and I know he at least recognized it as a possibility.
I found myself, in the first hours after the accident, with this sense of excitement or anticipation--
I don't know quite how to describe it,but I was feeling eager for him to see what's on the other side.
Sounds kooooky, I know.
But I know he was curious, and I know he was skeptical.
But I also know that he was pleasantly surprised.

I better go round up the kids and feed them.
Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean they aren't, right?

Again, thank you for all your virtual hugs.
I really am sorry for making you feel my sadness no matter how briefly.
But I guess that's how friendship works...we share each other's highs and lows, don't we?
Well.
I'll call ya when it's time to get high.
I mean...be high?
heh.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Loss for words

I'm still in the denial phase, I guess.
The police came to my door last night and told me that my brother-in-law had been killed.
The one who's been living at my house for the past year.
I haven't slept much, nor stopped crying much, but as always I felt the need to put something into words.
I keep seeing his smiling face and everytime I do, I shake my head a little--
cuz it's NOT true.
It can't be, it shouldn't be.
I will not be around much for a few days, obviously.
I am ok.
But he shouldn't be gone. He just shouldn't.
He was here.
I heard him come in and thought fleetingly of going upstairs to chit-chat a bit;
my usual thought.
But, I didn't.
No, I won't beat myself up with the "what if"s, but jesus.
Another fantastic "what if" concerns the police themselves.
He had been riding his bullet bike fast, up and down our small street and there had been complaints called in by a neighbor or neighbors (we're assuming).
They were on the scene one minute from when they were dispatched, so they were obviously already on their way.
So...what if they had made it there sooner?
He would have had a ticket, possibly an arrest for mouthing off or something stupid like that.
No helmet.
There are 5 brothers where there were 6.
There are people who don't know yet; friends of his that we don't know how to contact without his cell phone, which is at th Medical Examiner's office with him.
So we all sat up last night planning things and his poor mother is such a Mormon and he was just not, but we are all making sure he gets his wishes.
She wants to cut his hair.
We will not let that happen, and she will as always, refuse to accept that her wishes are not the only ones in existence.
She is doing well, though.

If I don't believe it, will it be untrue?
yeah. I know it won't.

Perfection comes in small and unexpected doses--

Today was a beautiful day.
Last night, the lightening sprawled across the sky
right
above my house.
The thunder shook me.
The softness of the rain was almost out of place,
warm and smooth.
Jagged, sharp, icicles of light shattering the thick grey of the night sky.
I loved it.
But tonight...
was clear and coolish-warmish.
And when J called and invited me to meet her at the dog park?
"Fuck yes."
That's what I said to her.
I needed like our desert needed last night's rain,
and like dessert needs a big glass of milk.
Because.
Because I forced myself to think some deep thoughts today.
As I headed down the mountain (not much like an avalanche, more like a volvo...)
I sought the station that plays purely sappy-assed songs.
Found it.
And dove in.
Letting each one wash over me and pull old hurts and new worries out of me like poison from a snake bite.
I needed it.
Or so says the shortness of breath and heart palpitations I've been having.
I'm feeling a little more at ease, but was still a bit somber when the J-girl called, so it was perfect timing.
Best of all, I got to spend that best kind of time with my kids--
they were exploring this beautiful City Creek park/trails/river place and it made my heart soar.
It's like they really are little tiny Lisas.
(With penises.)
They wanted to see where every trail went--
"The forest is so BIG, mom! What if a bear eats us?"
Er...no. Not gonna happen.
"Mom, can we hike? It's great hiking weather!"
"Look! All 3 trails meet right here (stands in the center), so...we're in the middle of NOWHERE.(pause, reconsider) Well. We're somewhere, alright."
What the fuck??
Kids are the greatest little inventions on this earth.*

*except when unfed, unrested, or in times of generally brattiness.

The weather was absolute perfection, it really was.

I think I might have to go smoke something and get in the bathtub.
Nah, maybe I'll just pop a couple of Aleve.
Hm...natural or man-made?
Tough choice.

I keep feeling like there's something I'm forgetting to do.
Probably someone's dying because of me right now.
If so...er...SORRY!

Friday, August 11, 2006

I dont know if you can tell--

but it is raining straight down on me and there is no cloud above!



These are the closest clouds, and they are no where near my head!



Ok, so maybe there is a teeny one right behind me, but I swear to god, the rain was coming straight down out of the blue sky.
Rock.
On.

Oh, I was at the pool with the kids, which is why I was fascinate by the rain.
Yeah...I would have been fascinated by it regardless of my location...

happy weekend, fellas!
click here.
Yes, I'm a follower (for today) Bite me.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Maybe the problem isn't me at all...

maybe it's you.
haaa....that was a bit of a joke.
Sort of a private joke--
between me, myself, and I.
A pretty hot three-way, if I do say so.

Ok, so I just deleted the saddest piece of shit I've ever posted here.
Well, that's a bit of an overstatement--
I post sad shit all the time, so who can really be bothered to rank each post??
But you get the idea.
I took it down because it was bringing me down.
And when those one guys from the 70s use their progressive rock vibes to beg you not to bring them down, it's hard to rationalize doing so in spite of their sexiness.
Right?
Who the fuck sings that song anyway?
And would the reference have been even a small percentage cooler if I had thrown in the band name rather than just a vague description?
...didn't think so.

The point is, how can I be expected to be down in the dumps when,
a. hubby brought home Rumbi,
b. I got no less than TWO emails from Mizz Pitt herself, and
3. the stars at night are big and bright, even here in friggin Utah?

That's right, mother fuckers, I can't be.
So I won't be.
...and...you can't make me...? (or something)

I am not currently on speaking terms with Janis Joplin right now.
Freedom is NOT just another word for nothing left to lose.
It's not.
She's just plain wrong.
So that's why I'm avoiding her.
That, and the fact that she's a smidge on the un-alive side.
But mostly it's the disagreement.

I think summer vacation lasts way too long.
I think my kids are more ready for school to start than I am.
I think it's cool to find out you're hotter than...someone you've never met, but feel an intense sense of competiveness with.
(fuuuuuuuuuuck. I just ended my sentence with a preposition...but that reminds me of two things: one, Zach Braff is back to regular blogging and you should check out his words, and two, um...oh yes, he recommended Talladega Nights, which reminded me that I might not have bothered to do so as yet. If not, consider it recommended; if so, consider it rerecommended...and add another word to the list of words I've made up)

Had a great workout today.
Am looking forward to getting into a good routine when our respective schools start.
Love starting sentences with a verb.
Wondering if it's as unpleasant as ending with a preposition...

Oh, for the record, the "hotter than" comment above is in reference to someone who is connected to me in real life, not on the internet, so don't go getting all, "god, she's cocky. And she is NOT hotter than me!" on me.

If this reads like I'm on speed, I apologize.
AND you can kiss my ass.
I figure that keeps the balance in my universe...

Just back from dinner with a friend...

"the" friend, sorta.
I mean, I have several very close, very dear friends, but she has been my friend for
gulp
18 years.
And I have 2 friends I've known longer (a frightening 25 years each!!!), but they are both elsewhere in the country and less a part of my daily life.
So that's what that means.
The point is, it's her birthday Friday so we had to celebrate.
With lobster and wine and tiramisu and calamari (no, probably NOT in that order, fuckwit) and so much talking that I'm pretty sure I have laryngitis.
Good.
Goooood times.
She is a good sounding board because she is so level-headed, and yet allows for my way to be good, too.
Does that make sense?
Anyway.
It was really nice.
(and could I possibly use "good" a few more times??? Good god.)

And I am finally remembering to be excited for the start of a new school year--
I shall have some free time and my darling children shall have some mental stimulation,
and I shall have some mental stimulation,
and all will be well.
Did I mention my sailing class?
Yes, in Utah.
Yes, I find that slightly repulsive, but I can live with it.

It's a full moon.
Last night it was blinding me, as I tossed
and as I turned.
Since Hawaii, I can't seem to sleep before 2 am; pesky time zones.

I think my new year's resolutions will be this:
(what? it's a new school year!)
1. stop eating so much
2. be consistent with your workouts you slacker-ass
3. live the best life I can live and let the chips fall where they may
Yup.
That's it.

My blogging groove has been
way
the fuck
off
lately.
For months and months, actually.
I think I started writing for an audience...
and that's never a good thing.
For a long while I was writing for me and loving the audience--
it was an exhibitionist thing, like, we don't BLOG because we don't want anyone to read, right??
That's retarded, of course we don't.
But I somehow stopped feeling comfortable just letting it all hang out.
I know, you probably couldn't tell.
(picture me sticking my tongue out at you, all Maori warrior styles.)
(Oh! speaking of which: watch A&E's reality show about Gene Simmons)
But it's true: I became inhibited.
I'm not sure why, nor am I in the mood (at this moment) to dissect exactly why and/or how that happened.
But I'm going to work on it.
I guess that's another resolution.
So what I meant there was that I am censoring myself for my audience, not so much that I'm writing FOR an audience...
more like I'm not-writing FOR an audience.
Ugh.
fuck.
Why in the name of baby jesus do I consider myself skilled at communication???
I should be smacked.
(yes, there. yes, like THAT. Pervert.)

Ok.
To bed for me.
And no, you can't come with me.
Well...

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Fantasy Friday Returns!

...and this time it's personal.
haaaaaaaa!


I was just driving along, and as I sat at one of a thousand red lights,
my thoughts wandered your way.
My eyes glazed over as I stared out the window, with images of you in
the way of all else.
I was picturing your face and saying over and over in my mind how sexy
I find you...
I was repeating those words to myself and growing wetter, there in
afternoon traffic.
I thought of what it would be like to be standing next to you, in
high, high heels, in a sheer and sexy dress--nothing underneath,
nipples poking hard
hard
hard
through thin fabric, being teased by it as much as by your presence.
You in leather.
Standing so close...
under an umbrella, maybe, or the edge of a roof, rain ripping through
the air around us.
My eyes almost closed as I sought to make these images more clear,
but the light turned green,
and I drove on.
One hand on the wheel...
one naughty little hand sliding up my naughty little shorts,
my breath coming fast as I thought of your shoulders, your back, your neck--
your eyes.
Your eyes,
piercing mine as surely as your tongue will breach my lips.
Your eyes,
wandering across my skin as surely as your fingers stroke my inner thigh,
Your eyes,
looking through the first layers of me, probing deeply, as surely as
your fingers probe the slick folds of me.
Yeah...
I thought a lot about your eyes.
I imagined how the first kiss would feel, that shivery, shakey anticipation--
and the fire it would unleash inside us both.
The whimpers and snarls as we fought to be closer, battling to become
each others' skin.
panting and pulsing, needing....
fuck, man!
I am dripping wet--
I guess....
I'll have to...
go
fuck
myself.
mmmmm....
I'll slide in two fingers while I close my eyes and stare into yours.
I'll slide them out, while I open my mouth and tilt back my head.
I'll press them back in--deeper--while I feel your body pressing against mine.
I'll slowly pull them out while I offer them to you...a taste?
I'll add a third finger and wish it was you.
I'll rub my palm against my clit with each inward thrust....
and keep telling myself your teeth will be grazing my neck
any
minute.
I'll moan out your name and try to slow down.
I'll breathe out your name and grope my own breasts.
I'll shout out your name and take myself....home........

Happy Tuesday boys and girls!
(almost as good as braless, right? *wink*)

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Saturday blends into Sunday in Jet Lag Land

(here's what I wrote on the plane)

Start singing Motely Crue, fuckers, because I am, in fact, on my way!
(destination: home sweet home)
Har.
Yes, I think I'm funny.
Yes, I like blogging, even when I only have such rudimentary recording devices as a pen and some paper.
Whoa.
Stoneage, man.
And we're taxiing------
and-----------------------
LIFT OFF!!!!!!!!!

It is a rainy night here in this little dollop of the Pacific.
Good time to head back to the desert, eh?

Some of you may have heard my theory about Utah's magical borders, but if not, here's the summary:
when passing out of Utah, one immediately becomes 20% more attractive and 10% thinner.
It's scienece, it cannot be disputed.
However, I have just discovered a clause in this law--
Hawaii is actually an inversely proportional locaton:
20% uglier, 10% fatter upon entry.
Oh well.
That's the beauty of being over 30 and married: I don't have to compete anymore!

Our movies tonight are "Failure to Launch" and "Mission Impossible 3".,
I have been attempting a half-assed boycott of Tom Cruise and all of his by-products, but I think it's going to be a decent show, so what the hell.
So much for sticking to my guns!
and, hey, I couldn't get my guns through security anyway.
har.

Hey, did I mention how great Hawaii was?
We really had a picture perfect time.
Plenty of relaxation mixed in with incredible sights and adventures.
The snorkelling was nearly my favorite, but it's hard to choose.
Ok, time to listen to some tunes.

***************

Settling back into the daily grind.
Friends to catch up with, kids to re-train.

Will post pictures soon.
Maybe a fantasy later this week; it's written, just need to find the right day.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Braless Saturday, baby!

Braless Saturday, baby!

Smile! You're on...

the short list for an emergency nose transplant???
I mean, REALLY.
Why do I not learn??
Close-ups of my face taken with my phone's shitty camera are NOT flattering.
To say the least.
Oh well.
I was happy, and now you know it so we can all clap our hands or some shit.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Friday??

Yup, it's Friday.
One more day in paradise, then it's home to...
paradise.
Yeah, home is pretty damn good.

So I wrote a whole big, lovely post last night, but the internet connection got all fucked up, and I have been unable to post it.
Fortunately, I wrote it in Word--so it wouldn't get eaten.
UNfortunately, it is in Word--on my laptop--so I cannot post it from the computers in the hotel lobby.
Bah.
(so I'm an addict, SO WHAT??? WANNA FIGHT???)
Anyway, I'll post it when I can.

I'll post a couple crappy camera phone shots when I'm done here.
Oh, I tried to view the blog, but access was blocked due to the word "fucker".
Heh.
It actually tells you why it's blocked, so that's cool.
Or something.

Have I mentioned how much fun we're having?
Well we are.
We have a couple of things to do this afternoon, and then it's off to a dinner cruise.
Tomorrow we're going to go snorkelling again (more about that in the Great Lost Post Soon to Be Posted) and fly out in the evening.
I can't wait to see my leetle boys--they've been having fun without me, but I still want to gobble them up as soon as I step off the plane!
Kids rock.
Kid Rock does not.
Ha.

And now my phone rang and it is Becky so I am going to go talk to her.

(Ok, I finally got my in-room internet working, so I have been able to fix my fucked up template and add this pre-written post, the one I mentioned above)


I swallowed a lot of seawater today, but it was good.
Not as good as those special times when I’ve swallowed a lot of semen (or seamen, for that matter!), but not unpleasant.
I figured out snorkeling.
I did NOT figure out rear body sun block application.
I saw a couple of big ole sea turtles—
While I was sitting on the beach feeling grumpy about my husband’s location.
He had wandered off, and I was left alone again.
I felt the turtles were inviting me into the water, so I saddled up and plowed back in.
I know…
I’m such a baby.
I really do love adventures, but I figured out my problem:
I don’t much care to experience ANYTHING if there’s not someone there to share it with me.
I love people and connections with them more than any other thing on this earth.
(Except dessert, but that’s a given.)
So, as I swam out, he swam in, to show me the great coral he had discovered.
From then on, we swam together, holding hands and floating above the gorgeous seascape.
We saw some cool fish, nothing too spectacular.
The coral was pretty amazing, though, and the fish we did see were so pretty.
We were at a tiny beach somewhere…don’t know where.
I think it’s true, though, that Hanauma Bay isn’t the hot spot it used to be.
There are still tons of tourists going there, but we heard it isn’t the best spot.
Too crowded.
Which is so
Very
Sad.
I am, of course, in love with every last drop of this place.
We are scheming and dreaming of ways to live here.
We could get a 2 bedroom, 2 bath, 750 square foot condo for about a half mil.
Ha.
The price isn’t so bad, but the size….!!
I am not in love with the price of gas and milk here.
One of our tour guides told us why milk is so expensive here.
He said, “There is only one cow.”
And, conveniently, at that moment our bus passed a field containing one cow.
It was pretty damn funny.
8 bucks a gallon for milk, though??
Fuuuuck that.
Anyway.
Snorkeling was good, and we’re going to do more.

Let’s see, let’s see…

Only 2 days left.
Time sure does fly when all you’re doing is having fun.
Talked to the kids today.
They were hilarious, and are having a great time with grandma.
They are my little dears…and I can’t wait to see them.

I have had lots of dreamy dreams and thinky thoughts in this place.
One thought I had is of a partnership.
My best friend, J, and I need to write a particular series of books.
She is too busy writing her dissertation right now, but maybe I can talk her into it…
She would be the brains of the operation (duh, like did you catch my doctoral candidate hint??) and I would be the creative juice box.
Or something.
No, I’m not telling.
If I told you what her phD is going to be in, you’d figure it out pretty damn quick.
(that’s PDQ for you acronym lovers).

Oh, so there were these girls in our little group at the Polynesian Cultural Center
(yes, Mark, I know who runs the joint…it was still informative and entertaining, though! Hehe.)
Ok, back to the girls.
They were gorgeous.
Mr. husband had been asking me if I could tell what language they were speaking.
I knew it wasn’t French, and I knew it wasn’t Spanish, Italian, or German, but neither of us could pinpoint what it was.
When the guide asked them where they were from, they replied, “Holland,” and I said to myself, “Oh!! No wonder I couldn’t tell.”
Hubby then said, “So what language are they speaking?”
(and, yes, we were being discreet.)
I said, “Dutch.”
He said, “Not Holland—“
And I cut in with, “Hollandaise? Yes, they are quite the saucy little things.”
We are total dorks.
Anyway, I was pretty much mesmerized by them for the whole day.
And their lanky Irish companion was a lucky young man indeed.
I love people, have I mentioned that today?
I love watching them interact, and I love imagining what their stories are.
I love seeing the way he looked at each of the girls, and the way his bushy-haired friend seemed almost an after-thought to them all.
The way his smiles lit up the group, and the way theirs illuminated the entire island.
Their tan little legs and their laughter.
My other favorite moment of that day was when the singer guy at the luau invited all the couples who were honeymooning or who had an anniversary in August to come to the stage and dance together, there was a young lesbian couple among them.
Why was this so great?
Besides the fact that they were cute and obviously in love, it was particularly swell because the PCC is owned and operated by the great and abominable church itself: the Mormons!!!
Wooot!
The sweet lady next to me said, “Is that two…GIRLS??”
She seemed appalled.
I grinned at her and affirmed.
The guy sitting next to my husband had a giant “Y” on his hat.
My adorably unobservant husband started talking to me about how the church should sell BYU (the ‘Y’ represented on that guy’s hat) to the state so that they could do away with the atrocious Honor Code and just let it be a school, so that the scaredy cat mormons who love the safety of Provo would not flock there anymore and it could finally be thinned out to a less chokingly-high percentage of mormons in the population.
Whew.
That was a mouthful!!
I don’t even know if it was coherent, but I’m too lazy and/or apathetic to go back and check.
Good luck with that.
The point is, it made me chuckle.

And I thought I didn’t have anything to say??
Puh
Leeeeez.

Funny how certain words remind us of certain people, or certain eras.
Funny how life is never really fair.
Funny how promises are made and promises are broken—every second of every day.
No…not funny.
Sad, and yet hopeful.
Will I ever just be normal?
Do I even want to be….?
Nah, that second one’s easy: of course not.
But I wish I could stop wanting 43 different things all at the same time.
I wish I could stop wishing.
I wish…
I want a new tattoo.
But not until—
Not until.

Sorry to end on a somewhat melancholic note.
The sun is beginning to sink over the clear blue water.
And it is time to dress for dinner.
…I say that is if it’s a formal event.
A skirt and an un-bra-ed tank top will be my wardrobe.
Good.
Times.