What’s even more lame than blogging from vacation?
Blogging more than once from vacation.
However.
Today rocked.
Hard.
And with leather pants and smashing of many guitars.
…figuratively speaking, of course.
We just came in from a swim (sunset and giant waves!), and before that a delicious dinner with some of hubby’s co-workers and their wives.
They are here as a bonus for the sales team—yes, it was purely coincidental, and actually they’re going to a different island tomorrow anyway.
We also went to Pearl Harbor with them and visited memorials and stuff.
It was interesting and sobering, and I’m so glad we went.
We woke up bright and early (4 hour time difference) and had a wonderful breakfast.
Goooood day.
We also got the rest of our activities reserved for the week, so we’re ready to go.
Just wanted to update…
I hated the thought of that Negative Nelly post lingering any longer than necessary.
I love you all like the hermaphrodite siblings I never knew!
…or something.
Oh, and while we were at Pearl Harbor, I was looking into a window on a Japanese Suicide Torpedo (like kamikaze, but under water), and through the window on the other side there was a guy.
I kept seeing him around the grounds, and then when we were walking back to our hotel from the parking garage (one block away), we passed him on the street.
He smiled a little.
Life has so many coincidences; I love it.
The way we are all connected.
Connections, connections.
Have a happy week—I’m sure I’ll be back with another post and comments soon.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Well...
I guess that's what I get for trying to blog on vacation.
While we waited for our room to be ready (check-in's at 3 and we arrived around noon),
we sat in the lobby and joyfully connected to their wireless internet.
Hubby joyfully played Warcraft (ok, I doubt he does anything in a manner which would merit that particular adverb, but you get the picture)
and I JOYFULLY blogged.
I blogged with joy and fervor, in fact.
I blogged with silliness and glee.
I was happy to see you guys--
it wasn't just a warm drink spilling in my lap.
Ha.
Old joke...MY joke.
Don't steal it.
Unless you're D. and/or G.--or anyone else who thinks I'm clever for having made it up.
Fuck.
Where was I?
Oh yeah--joyfully blogging.
So I was toodling along telling you marvelous little martians about my trip so far,
and my computer got all huffy and turned intself off.
Usually there is a "low battery" warning.
But Nooooooo, not today.
So I decided to check our room just then, and it was ready.
(we had eaten a leisurely and lovely lunch on the lanai...I was going to say "patio" but I had such a lovely 'literation goin on, I couldn't stop...see? just like when I so cleav-arly left off the 'a' on that one word...)
Ok.
Blah blah blah, so we get to our room and the wireless doesn't work so we call the front desk and someone brings us an ethernet cable but there is no cable box so we wait an hour for a new room.
I dozed and watched Jerry McGuire (Renee's eyes don't look squinty in that movie!!)
and hubby got irate with all the road blocks to his Warcraft empire.
Fucker.
And then we gathered our shit to go to the new room, and as I was putting on my shoes, I noticed what looked like a little lint ball in the corner.
A lint ball shaped like a tiny, black lizard.
So I knelt down and peered every so carefully...
it was.
Yessir, a dead lizard on the carpet.
I'm hoping it was stuck to someone's shoe and the vacume failed to pick it up...
I prefer lizards to spiders, though, so I'm not terribly worried.
Ok, I'm kinda freaked out.
And we're NOT impressed with the hotel.
See, we bought a one-year membership to a time share thingy to see if we liked it.
We really like the idea of the condo vacation home blah blah blah, and this particular company has a pretty flexible cool way of doing it.
However.
We wanted Hawaii.
The other islands are the ones with properties owned by this particular time share club, but they were all booked already when I called.
So the lady on the phone said they are building one here on Oahu, and right now they're using a local hotel in a partnership and we could use our points there.
I figured it would be comparable to the condos we've visited and seen on-line.
Um.
Not so much.
It's just a hotel.
A run of the mill hotel.
With dead lizards on the floor and at least one internet-lacking room.
Gaaah.
I don't actually care, to tell you the truth.
It's a tiny bit of a let down, when I think of the gorgeous little bungalows on the Big Island that we could have had if we had chosen a week during the school year, or the spacious condo on a private beach on Kuai...
Instead, we are in the city, about a block from the ocean, in a standard hotel room.
I know better than to bitch about it.
I'm here, and I'm excited for every last second of the adventure.
But the condo folks are going to hear about it.
Me?
I'll just soak up the sun and the seafood (ok, I'll masticate and digest that, but you get the idea...) and the turtles and the dolphins and...
oh.
I wasn't done bitching, hold on.
Back to the scene following my lizard discovery.
We walked out to get an elevator--
only up one floor, but stairs NO WHERE TO BE FOUND.
So an elevator arrives and it's mostly full.
Hubby shoves into it with half the luggage and all the room keys.
"room 314" he offers as the doors close.
I stand there, annoyed.
And then I realize I can't just get on the next fucking elevator because room floor access requires the fucking key card.
And he has them.
The stairs (which I finally found) also require a fucking room key.
I was stranded.
It's a good goddamned thing we both had our cell phones, or who the hell knows how long I would have sat there.
Probably until someone ELSE helped me.
He would have assumed I was waiting for an elevator and settled in with Warcraft, never to think of me again.
So I called and said, "I don't have a room key, so I can't get TO the room."
"That's ok, just knock."
"uh...NO. I can't get on the elevator."
"oh yeah...ok. I'm coming."
Took forever.
I felt like an idiot, not to mention my fatigue rotting away at the edges of each shiny little nerve, as I stood in the elevator alcove watching elevators come and go.
Whatever.
At least I got to unpack and hang up all my stuff and there are tons of drawers and plenty of hangers and I bought some fun new clothes before we left, and it gave me a thrill to see them again as I hung them...
yes, I'm a bit of a shop-a-holic, and I'm ok with that.
It's under control.
Ok...truly and really, I did not intend for this to be a bitchfest.
I did write you guys a happy, silly little post a couple of hours ago, but then I got on the bullet train to shit town.
Sorry...
I can't make any promises, but I am willing to bet that there will be a lot more cheer coming from me for the rest of the week.
...besides, blogs are way more entertaining when people are bitching than when they're gloating, right?
And...thanks to my husband's WoW addiction, I'll probably be blogging quite a bit.
Which is kind of ok with me.
Also, kind of not.
But today I'm fucking tired and cranky and I'm ok with some down time right now.
I will not, however, be afraid to go out and do stuff without him if he's going to be a party pooper.
I don't expect him to be one, for the record.
He's excited to be here, too, he's just tired and crankier so today's going to be all low-key.
If it doesn't look up after this, I'm filing a law suit.
Probably against that lizard.
Oh yeah!
And now that we're finally settled, I took an Aleve to battle the aches and pains associated with 1.5 hours of sleep before leaving for the airport, followed by a total of 7 hours on airplanes in more awkward positions than a chinese acrobat-turned-hooker and an ornery-ass afternoon.
On the plus side, I don't have my kids with me!
This would have turned ugly a lot sooner if I did.
heh.
Really, the day was pleasant up until about 2 hours ago, so that's not all bad.
I'm just bummed I lost the post that proves it!
Happy weekend to you.
While we waited for our room to be ready (check-in's at 3 and we arrived around noon),
we sat in the lobby and joyfully connected to their wireless internet.
Hubby joyfully played Warcraft (ok, I doubt he does anything in a manner which would merit that particular adverb, but you get the picture)
and I JOYFULLY blogged.
I blogged with joy and fervor, in fact.
I blogged with silliness and glee.
I was happy to see you guys--
it wasn't just a warm drink spilling in my lap.
Ha.
Old joke...MY joke.
Don't steal it.
Unless you're D. and/or G.--or anyone else who thinks I'm clever for having made it up.
Fuck.
Where was I?
Oh yeah--joyfully blogging.
So I was toodling along telling you marvelous little martians about my trip so far,
and my computer got all huffy and turned intself off.
Usually there is a "low battery" warning.
But Nooooooo, not today.
So I decided to check our room just then, and it was ready.
(we had eaten a leisurely and lovely lunch on the lanai...I was going to say "patio" but I had such a lovely 'literation goin on, I couldn't stop...see? just like when I so cleav-arly left off the 'a' on that one word...)
Ok.
Blah blah blah, so we get to our room and the wireless doesn't work so we call the front desk and someone brings us an ethernet cable but there is no cable box so we wait an hour for a new room.
I dozed and watched Jerry McGuire (Renee's eyes don't look squinty in that movie!!)
and hubby got irate with all the road blocks to his Warcraft empire.
Fucker.
And then we gathered our shit to go to the new room, and as I was putting on my shoes, I noticed what looked like a little lint ball in the corner.
A lint ball shaped like a tiny, black lizard.
So I knelt down and peered every so carefully...
it was.
Yessir, a dead lizard on the carpet.
I'm hoping it was stuck to someone's shoe and the vacume failed to pick it up...
I prefer lizards to spiders, though, so I'm not terribly worried.
Ok, I'm kinda freaked out.
And we're NOT impressed with the hotel.
See, we bought a one-year membership to a time share thingy to see if we liked it.
We really like the idea of the condo vacation home blah blah blah, and this particular company has a pretty flexible cool way of doing it.
However.
We wanted Hawaii.
The other islands are the ones with properties owned by this particular time share club, but they were all booked already when I called.
So the lady on the phone said they are building one here on Oahu, and right now they're using a local hotel in a partnership and we could use our points there.
I figured it would be comparable to the condos we've visited and seen on-line.
Um.
Not so much.
It's just a hotel.
A run of the mill hotel.
With dead lizards on the floor and at least one internet-lacking room.
Gaaah.
I don't actually care, to tell you the truth.
It's a tiny bit of a let down, when I think of the gorgeous little bungalows on the Big Island that we could have had if we had chosen a week during the school year, or the spacious condo on a private beach on Kuai...
Instead, we are in the city, about a block from the ocean, in a standard hotel room.
I know better than to bitch about it.
I'm here, and I'm excited for every last second of the adventure.
But the condo folks are going to hear about it.
Me?
I'll just soak up the sun and the seafood (ok, I'll masticate and digest that, but you get the idea...) and the turtles and the dolphins and...
oh.
I wasn't done bitching, hold on.
Back to the scene following my lizard discovery.
We walked out to get an elevator--
only up one floor, but stairs NO WHERE TO BE FOUND.
So an elevator arrives and it's mostly full.
Hubby shoves into it with half the luggage and all the room keys.
"room 314" he offers as the doors close.
I stand there, annoyed.
And then I realize I can't just get on the next fucking elevator because room floor access requires the fucking key card.
And he has them.
The stairs (which I finally found) also require a fucking room key.
I was stranded.
It's a good goddamned thing we both had our cell phones, or who the hell knows how long I would have sat there.
Probably until someone ELSE helped me.
He would have assumed I was waiting for an elevator and settled in with Warcraft, never to think of me again.
So I called and said, "I don't have a room key, so I can't get TO the room."
"That's ok, just knock."
"uh...NO. I can't get on the elevator."
"oh yeah...ok. I'm coming."
Took forever.
I felt like an idiot, not to mention my fatigue rotting away at the edges of each shiny little nerve, as I stood in the elevator alcove watching elevators come and go.
Whatever.
At least I got to unpack and hang up all my stuff and there are tons of drawers and plenty of hangers and I bought some fun new clothes before we left, and it gave me a thrill to see them again as I hung them...
yes, I'm a bit of a shop-a-holic, and I'm ok with that.
It's under control.
Ok...truly and really, I did not intend for this to be a bitchfest.
I did write you guys a happy, silly little post a couple of hours ago, but then I got on the bullet train to shit town.
Sorry...
I can't make any promises, but I am willing to bet that there will be a lot more cheer coming from me for the rest of the week.
...besides, blogs are way more entertaining when people are bitching than when they're gloating, right?
And...thanks to my husband's WoW addiction, I'll probably be blogging quite a bit.
Which is kind of ok with me.
Also, kind of not.
But today I'm fucking tired and cranky and I'm ok with some down time right now.
I will not, however, be afraid to go out and do stuff without him if he's going to be a party pooper.
I don't expect him to be one, for the record.
He's excited to be here, too, he's just tired and crankier so today's going to be all low-key.
If it doesn't look up after this, I'm filing a law suit.
Probably against that lizard.
Oh yeah!
And now that we're finally settled, I took an Aleve to battle the aches and pains associated with 1.5 hours of sleep before leaving for the airport, followed by a total of 7 hours on airplanes in more awkward positions than a chinese acrobat-turned-hooker and an ornery-ass afternoon.
On the plus side, I don't have my kids with me!
This would have turned ugly a lot sooner if I did.
heh.
Really, the day was pleasant up until about 2 hours ago, so that's not all bad.
I'm just bummed I lost the post that proves it!
Happy weekend to you.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Aloha, motherfuckers!!
Ok, so I juse left the best comment in my blogging history over on D-man's site,
so you better go read.
Guess what else?
His is one of the best blogs on this crazy internt circuit, so you damn well ought to be reading it anyway.
I can't decide if it's because I'm about 3 seconds away from a grand vacation,
sans children,
or if it's just time,
but my mojo is rising (mister).
Just thought I'd share.
I feel alive again.
Perhaps my thyroid is stabilizing itself after all the fucking around my doctor did with it.
Damn slutty thyroid.
Or maybe my mental instability is stabilizing itself after all the fucking around I've done with it...
heh.
Whatever.
I was so excited last night, I stayed up past 2 packing.
I think I sort of got into the midset that I was leaving today,
because I went so far as to set out the clothes I'm wearing on the plane.
Complete with white underwear (so it won't show through my pants)
and black bra (so it won't look funny under my black shirt with questionably spaced neck hole).
AND.
did I mention this bra?
The black one?
I haven't had a black bra in my size since I...expanded.
And I was late for an appointment and desperate, so I didn't try this one on.
They also had a marked lack of decent-looking black bras in the D section,
so it's a C.
Yeah, in case you're wondering: I'M STILL A D.
Stupid girl.
Every once in a while I'll look down and see that my breast has freed itself and I look like I have 3.
HAWT.
It's always my right breast, never my left.
Don't know what that's about.
I probably have a crooked spine or something.
Time to jet.
More later.
so you better go read.
Guess what else?
His is one of the best blogs on this crazy internt circuit, so you damn well ought to be reading it anyway.
I can't decide if it's because I'm about 3 seconds away from a grand vacation,
sans children,
or if it's just time,
but my mojo is rising (mister).
Just thought I'd share.
I feel alive again.
Perhaps my thyroid is stabilizing itself after all the fucking around my doctor did with it.
Damn slutty thyroid.
Or maybe my mental instability is stabilizing itself after all the fucking around I've done with it...
heh.
Whatever.
I was so excited last night, I stayed up past 2 packing.
I think I sort of got into the midset that I was leaving today,
because I went so far as to set out the clothes I'm wearing on the plane.
Complete with white underwear (so it won't show through my pants)
and black bra (so it won't look funny under my black shirt with questionably spaced neck hole).
AND.
did I mention this bra?
The black one?
I haven't had a black bra in my size since I...expanded.
And I was late for an appointment and desperate, so I didn't try this one on.
They also had a marked lack of decent-looking black bras in the D section,
so it's a C.
Yeah, in case you're wondering: I'M STILL A D.
Stupid girl.
Every once in a while I'll look down and see that my breast has freed itself and I look like I have 3.
HAWT.
It's always my right breast, never my left.
Don't know what that's about.
I probably have a crooked spine or something.
Time to jet.
More later.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Has anyone seen my head?
No, not my mind this time, just my head.
I've lost it.
I'm pretty sure it's around here somewhere...
Oh, I know!!
It's in Lucy's cleavage.
That would probably be funnier to you if you had been at the Book Club/Wine drinkin' thing I went to last night.
She is one of my new favorite people, I think.
Along with pretty much everyone else there.
It was intensely spiritual, in the end.
I know, you're not used to such talk here, and I'll keep it vague.
But needless to say, we had fun and good food and good wine, but by the end of the night we were all a little bit changed.
No, sorry, this is not code for, "We had a wild lesbian orgie."
There were a LOT of great racks there, though.
We will have to eventually do a photo for ya.
Yes, yes, I'll get around to posting that one eventually.
I uploaded the pictures, through Hello, but I was not in the mood to post.
So, they're sitting in draft and will appear when I'm good and goddamn ready.
Today I have 4 million things to do, which is a little overwhelming.
Shopping and cleaning and organizing in vacation preparation!
I keep worrying that something's going to go wrong.
Like...the plane tickets are screwed up, or the condo is screwed up, or we're going to get mugged or sunburned or shark bitten on the first day.
Or the kids are going to have a rough time, or get mugged or sunburned or...not shark bitten cuz they're in UTAH, but...siiigh.
I guess I can't expect to just float throughmy life in pure bliss all the time, eh?
Worrying is ok sometimes.
It'll help me prevent at least some of those problems.
I just need to shower and eat something and get going.
It's 1pm.
Breakfast, anyone?
Ok.
Lists.
I will first make lists of things to do and things to buy.
This should calm my anxiety.
OH!!
I forgot the BEST part of our little stay in Park City!
Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
A teenage girl (yes, an excruciatingly beautiful one) was sitting on a bench and as we walked by, it looked like she was shoving the last of an ice cream cone or something into her mouth.
No.
Nothing so mundane, nothing so ordinary.
nothing so...
edible.
It was her
CELL
PHONE!!!
Fuckin' A right it was!
Our drunk-as-skunk birthday boy said, probably a little too loudly, "Daaaaamn! What I wouldn't give for a piece of THAT!"
He was hilarious the whole time--his wife just kept rolling her eyes.
And I kept saying, "Don't ever give him afternoon lovin' again if this is what happens!"
And D. kept saying, "Man, you're sleepin' on the couch tonight." and "Dude. I am sleeping on my BACK tonight."
Oh, the reason we knew they had some birthday lovin' prior to our arrival is that when we got there, there was a handmade "do not disturb" sign that was of two stick figures doing something rather disturbing!
He was drunk all day.
It was a good time.
But the cell phone eating girl was the icing on the cake.
speaking of cake...
we had an ice cream cake with oreo crust and caramel swirls and....stuff....last night...oh....lord...why does sugar taste like love to me?
WHY??? DEAR GOD, WHY????????
heh.
It's ok.
I'm ok.
We're all ok.
So I'm fucking around with my class schedule again.
I found an online course that I could take, but there's a problem.
It fulfills the same requirement as the KICK ASS "Does ET exist?" Astronomy course I have registered for and it looks easier.
The problem is....the Astronomy class would be soooo cool.
Also I can take a Beginning sailing class for 2 credits.
I know, I know.
SAILING???
in UTAH???
Crazy, right?
From what I hear, the Great Salt Lake has pretty decent sailing.
I guess you Great Lakes folks wouldn't be surprised to hear that.
Remember, I'm from the ocean, so lakes don't strike me as proper sailing locations.
But.
They are.
Ok, that's it.
I leave here at about...3 am on Saturday morning for beautiful Hawaii!
I hope I don't get stuck in an erupting volcano or eaten by a shark!
heh.
I'll be popping in tomorrow, and DEFINITELY updating from the island.
I've lost it.
I'm pretty sure it's around here somewhere...
Oh, I know!!
It's in Lucy's cleavage.
That would probably be funnier to you if you had been at the Book Club/Wine drinkin' thing I went to last night.
She is one of my new favorite people, I think.
Along with pretty much everyone else there.
It was intensely spiritual, in the end.
I know, you're not used to such talk here, and I'll keep it vague.
But needless to say, we had fun and good food and good wine, but by the end of the night we were all a little bit changed.
No, sorry, this is not code for, "We had a wild lesbian orgie."
There were a LOT of great racks there, though.
We will have to eventually do a photo for ya.
Yes, yes, I'll get around to posting that one eventually.
I uploaded the pictures, through Hello, but I was not in the mood to post.
So, they're sitting in draft and will appear when I'm good and goddamn ready.
Today I have 4 million things to do, which is a little overwhelming.
Shopping and cleaning and organizing in vacation preparation!
I keep worrying that something's going to go wrong.
Like...the plane tickets are screwed up, or the condo is screwed up, or we're going to get mugged or sunburned or shark bitten on the first day.
Or the kids are going to have a rough time, or get mugged or sunburned or...not shark bitten cuz they're in UTAH, but...siiigh.
I guess I can't expect to just float throughmy life in pure bliss all the time, eh?
Worrying is ok sometimes.
It'll help me prevent at least some of those problems.
I just need to shower and eat something and get going.
It's 1pm.
Breakfast, anyone?
Ok.
Lists.
I will first make lists of things to do and things to buy.
This should calm my anxiety.
OH!!
I forgot the BEST part of our little stay in Park City!
Ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
A teenage girl (yes, an excruciatingly beautiful one) was sitting on a bench and as we walked by, it looked like she was shoving the last of an ice cream cone or something into her mouth.
No.
Nothing so mundane, nothing so ordinary.
nothing so...
edible.
It was her
CELL
PHONE!!!
Fuckin' A right it was!
Our drunk-as-skunk birthday boy said, probably a little too loudly, "Daaaaamn! What I wouldn't give for a piece of THAT!"
He was hilarious the whole time--his wife just kept rolling her eyes.
And I kept saying, "Don't ever give him afternoon lovin' again if this is what happens!"
And D. kept saying, "Man, you're sleepin' on the couch tonight." and "Dude. I am sleeping on my BACK tonight."
Oh, the reason we knew they had some birthday lovin' prior to our arrival is that when we got there, there was a handmade "do not disturb" sign that was of two stick figures doing something rather disturbing!
He was drunk all day.
It was a good time.
But the cell phone eating girl was the icing on the cake.
speaking of cake...
we had an ice cream cake with oreo crust and caramel swirls and....stuff....last night...oh....lord...why does sugar taste like love to me?
WHY??? DEAR GOD, WHY????????
heh.
It's ok.
I'm ok.
We're all ok.
So I'm fucking around with my class schedule again.
I found an online course that I could take, but there's a problem.
It fulfills the same requirement as the KICK ASS "Does ET exist?" Astronomy course I have registered for and it looks easier.
The problem is....the Astronomy class would be soooo cool.
Also I can take a Beginning sailing class for 2 credits.
I know, I know.
SAILING???
in UTAH???
Crazy, right?
From what I hear, the Great Salt Lake has pretty decent sailing.
I guess you Great Lakes folks wouldn't be surprised to hear that.
Remember, I'm from the ocean, so lakes don't strike me as proper sailing locations.
But.
They are.
Ok, that's it.
I leave here at about...3 am on Saturday morning for beautiful Hawaii!
I hope I don't get stuck in an erupting volcano or eaten by a shark!
heh.
I'll be popping in tomorrow, and DEFINITELY updating from the island.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Why didn't anyone remind me that it is (was) TUESDAY???
And it's time to post braless squared.
I'm a little disappointed, because the pictures are not the best of the ones we took that night--
and no, that doesn't mean they were less appropriate in nature or anything like that.
They were just more aesthetically pleasing.
Ok, well, FUUUUCK.
I guess Blogger isn't in the mood for Braless Tuesday.
Won't load my pictures.
Today has been a strange day.
A decent day, but quiet.
I had yet another sex dream...
not sure what this means.
This one, however, was much more tantalizing.
It lasted longer and was not starring an ex-president.
Damn.
He would make Clinton himself switch teams.
It was really cool.
Maybe I'll write it up for you, but I don't know.
At the moment, I am reeling from the impact of
so
much
whine.
Sadly, that's not a typo.
I wish I was wine-drunk.
Hell, a wine headache is better than THIS kind.
Bleh.
Fireworks were fun and worth it and...
now I'm suffering from the after effects, and that is A-OK.
(as opposed to B-OK, which reminds me, why would you fuck an A when you could fuck a D? Just wondering...)
Holy.
Cow.
I will finish this a little later--
when the tornados go to bed.
*********
Scene: later, house of sleeping tornados.
Here's that dream...
I woke up this morning and when I dozed back off I had SUCH a vivid dream about
fucking
YOU.
Oh, god DAMN. It was so amazing. I have never had such a cool sex
dream about a real person.
In the dream, I woke up and went to my bathroom, which morphed into an
office and you were there--
suddenly, immediately next to me and there was not even a heartbeat's
pause before we were devouring each other, ravenously kissing and
groping.
I peeled my shirt off and you bent to feed on my tits--straining to
take in large mouthfuls of the smooth flesh.
It was as if you had been sucked into my dimension through a wormhole
or telekenesis or--something!
and then dove for you, tackling you with the ferocity of
a starving tiger.
You pounced back, of course.
We clawed at each other, kissing deeply for a few long minutes--
both of us shirtless, but with a slight hesitancy over the
pants...should we, or shouldn't we?
Fuck that.
With one mind, we both shed our lower clothing and resumed our kissing
and grinding and groping.
I clearly remember this one particular position that I'm not sure I've
ever done before.
Ok, not clearly...almost, though...let's see, it was some sort of
seated position.
You were sitting on the floor and I was sitting sort of on you, but
our legs were locked together kind of. Shit, I wish I could still see
it. I remember marvelling at it, in the dream--and seeing it all very
clearly.
Kissing you was a miracle in itself--just lips and tongues and
shivering....mmm....
I'm such a blog ho.
Articles to write, free blogging software to curse.
question: why am I doing so much "curse"ing lately??
I'm a little disappointed, because the pictures are not the best of the ones we took that night--
and no, that doesn't mean they were less appropriate in nature or anything like that.
They were just more aesthetically pleasing.
Ok, well, FUUUUCK.
I guess Blogger isn't in the mood for Braless Tuesday.
Won't load my pictures.
Today has been a strange day.
A decent day, but quiet.
I had yet another sex dream...
not sure what this means.
This one, however, was much more tantalizing.
It lasted longer and was not starring an ex-president.
Damn.
He would make Clinton himself switch teams.
It was really cool.
Maybe I'll write it up for you, but I don't know.
At the moment, I am reeling from the impact of
so
much
whine.
Sadly, that's not a typo.
I wish I was wine-drunk.
Hell, a wine headache is better than THIS kind.
Bleh.
Fireworks were fun and worth it and...
now I'm suffering from the after effects, and that is A-OK.
(as opposed to B-OK, which reminds me, why would you fuck an A when you could fuck a D? Just wondering...)
Holy.
Cow.
I will finish this a little later--
when the tornados go to bed.
*********
Scene: later, house of sleeping tornados.
Here's that dream...
I woke up this morning and when I dozed back off I had SUCH a vivid dream about
fucking
YOU.
Oh, god DAMN. It was so amazing. I have never had such a cool sex
dream about a real person.
In the dream, I woke up and went to my bathroom, which morphed into an
office and you were there--
suddenly, immediately next to me and there was not even a heartbeat's
pause before we were devouring each other, ravenously kissing and
groping.
I peeled my shirt off and you bent to feed on my tits--straining to
take in large mouthfuls of the smooth flesh.
It was as if you had been sucked into my dimension through a wormhole
or telekenesis or--something!
and then dove for you, tackling you with the ferocity of
a starving tiger.
You pounced back, of course.
We clawed at each other, kissing deeply for a few long minutes--
both of us shirtless, but with a slight hesitancy over the
pants...should we, or shouldn't we?
Fuck that.
With one mind, we both shed our lower clothing and resumed our kissing
and grinding and groping.
I clearly remember this one particular position that I'm not sure I've
ever done before.
Ok, not clearly...almost, though...let's see, it was some sort of
seated position.
You were sitting on the floor and I was sitting sort of on you, but
our legs were locked together kind of. Shit, I wish I could still see
it. I remember marvelling at it, in the dream--and seeing it all very
clearly.
Kissing you was a miracle in itself--just lips and tongues and
shivering....mmm....
I'm such a blog ho.
Articles to write, free blogging software to curse.
question: why am I doing so much "curse"ing lately??
Monday, July 24, 2006
Happy Pioneer Day!!
Yes, that's right, it's a state holiday here in Utard.
The day we celebrate green jello salad,
and multiple wives
(and a marked lack of multiple orgasms)
and the abolition of tank tops and short shorts and free-thinking women!
We revere the heighths of misogyny to which the predominant culture of this state has soared.
We give thanks for all the hardworking poor who can barely make their bills and yet still fork over ten percent of their GROSS income out of guilt-disguised-as-faith.
I spit on Brigham Young's grave.
(figuratively, that is...you think I'm gonna bother staking that thing out??)
Anywho.
I'll still go enjoy the fireworks...
I always forget this is a REAL holiday here.
I never make plans for it because it just doesn't register in my mind.
Oh well.
We've had a fun, relaxing day.
I got to go to the gym without the kids
and they got to go to the pool with Dad.
They got to go to bed after that,
and so did we!
Well, Mr. is going away for a couple of days, so it needed to be done.
...I needed to be done?
Whichever.
I had a gorgeously vivid dream last night about being a queen.
Probably because last night I read this little thing that I wrote during Hamlet:
I was a queen once; I remember.
I remember running barefoot across cold marble,
my crown heavy and crooked on my wild black curls.
Breathlessly, I rounded a corner and crashed into my beautiful-eyed guard.
In his shock his arms were wrapped around me, our faces just a whisper apart.
Totally cheesy.
Ok, it's feeding time at the zoo,
and then off to gluttonously and thanklessly wallow in the beauty of the freaks' fireworks!
The day we celebrate green jello salad,
and multiple wives
(and a marked lack of multiple orgasms)
and the abolition of tank tops and short shorts and free-thinking women!
We revere the heighths of misogyny to which the predominant culture of this state has soared.
We give thanks for all the hardworking poor who can barely make their bills and yet still fork over ten percent of their GROSS income out of guilt-disguised-as-faith.
I spit on Brigham Young's grave.
(figuratively, that is...you think I'm gonna bother staking that thing out??)
Anywho.
I'll still go enjoy the fireworks...
I always forget this is a REAL holiday here.
I never make plans for it because it just doesn't register in my mind.
Oh well.
We've had a fun, relaxing day.
I got to go to the gym without the kids
and they got to go to the pool with Dad.
They got to go to bed after that,
and so did we!
Well, Mr. is going away for a couple of days, so it needed to be done.
...I needed to be done?
Whichever.
I had a gorgeously vivid dream last night about being a queen.
Probably because last night I read this little thing that I wrote during Hamlet:
I was a queen once; I remember.
I remember running barefoot across cold marble,
my crown heavy and crooked on my wild black curls.
Breathlessly, I rounded a corner and crashed into my beautiful-eyed guard.
In his shock his arms were wrapped around me, our faces just a whisper apart.
Totally cheesy.
Ok, it's feeding time at the zoo,
and then off to gluttonously and thanklessly wallow in the beauty of the freaks' fireworks!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Park City, Spark spitty, Stark titty, Shark clitty....
ok, that's enough of THAT.
Whew...things were really deteriorating fast, weren't they??
Yes, the babysitting issues resolved themselves nicely, with the help of a super-cute pre-school owner/teacher and her husband.
She took all the kids and it went really well; she is a brave, crazy woman.
So, if you read the comments on my previous post, you may already know what I am about to tell you, but here is the longer version:
I had a very graphic sex dream about former President Bill Clinton last night.
Wowza.
It was super hot.
He was amazing.
He did every wrong thing oh-so-right.
Heh.
There was also a frightening situation with a giant truck and a steep, snowy hill.
No, it was a camper, an RV.
Anyway, it was after that that I was wooed by Slick Willy himself, so I stopped worrying about it.
Ok, enough of the dream stuff.
It has been around 100 degrees here for the past week or so and Park City wasn't much cooler.
It is higher in elevation so it usually is, but it still felt pretty bad.
We did a couple of the summer activities they have set up in tandem with the ski lifts--
an alpine slide and a zip line.
The slide is a little wheeled sled on a curvy cement slide, going down the mountain--
so
much
fun.
One of our party took a spill and scraped his arm up pretty good.
That was kinda my fault...
We were on adjacent slides and as we prepared to take off, I said, "Bet you five bucks I'll beat you."
I don't really know why I said it, because I'm not thaaat much of a daredevil, and he's heavier than I am, so he picked up momentum a lot easier...
but.
I did.
And he actually WANTED to win!!
I forgot that some people are competitive...
oops.
Even with his little tumble he still beat me.
By a LOT.
I never did pay him.
SShhhh...
So then we went to an amazing Italian place--
the same one I had patronized the night before with my girlfriends.
I love food, oh dear god how I love food!
goooood food.
Everything was exquisite, and when I ordered my dessert I had no idea what was about to happen.
My life is changed.
FOREVER.
I see a lot of wild-eyed and secretive mad dashes to the other side of the mountain in my near future.
And my distant future.
And.
Every day until I learn the recipe myself...
wait...
a better plan!
I'll go undercover as a pastry chef and pilfer the recipe from the inside.
oh, dear, sweet baby jesus with a diaper rash, that stuff was amazing!
I've seen it done before, but those were such horrid imitations that I didn't even order this dish on my first try--
but they were out of what I ordered and on a whim, I asked for it.
Lava cake.
Warm...soft...chocolate cake with a nearly-pudding-like substance filling the center.
My mouth waters just to think of it!
If I could eat that dessert off YOUR stomach, I think I might evaporate into a cloud of giddiness and satiation.
yes, I would. There is no question.
I would cease to exist in a far more ethereal manner than the word 'death' would imply.
Die happy? Yeah.
Ok.
So I worked my pecs on Friday and they feel pleasantly tight today.
Yes, I touch my breast region on occasion, why do you ask??
I went to the pool today with the boys and was mesermized by a group of young, happy Asians.
Teenagers.
So smooth and lithe and small.
Laughing and having chicken fights and doing head stands and damn that boy had amazing pecs and yeah, the girls sure didn't, but that's ok.
There are so many kinds of beauty that it really does astound me.
Yes, my favorite kind is the inner kind.
But then there's my ass fixation.
I have discovered, through trial and error, that I am not generally attracted to women.
I do, however, have a strange fascination with a particular type of women's ass.
I can objectively agree that a wide variety (pun intended) of posterior arrangements are pleasing, but I crave for my own body a certain type of ass, and when I see it, I get weak in the knees.
It's an odd sort of coveting--
when I see skinny women I get bitter and bitchy,
but when I see a woman with an ass I'd trade my parietal lobe for, then I just get swoony.
I'm not sure I can even describe it.
And I might not even truly covet such an ass, because I'm ok with not having one.
But it would sure be nice.
My trainer once taught me a few tricks to build muscle in that region for just such a purpose, but(t)...I dunno.
Maybe I'm afraid I'll grow my dream ass and become obsessed with keeping it there--
and what if I over do it, or stop exercising and it is still there, but fat insteaed of luscious???
Quel kunundrum, eh?
And you thought the boredom had crept back into the housewife!
Puh
leeeez.
I have a strange sort of peace in my heart these days.
A melancholy one, but a peace just the same.
I have finally come full circle.
I know why my heart has ached the way it has.
I finally know.
It's because there was a mortally large chunk cut out of it about 13 years ago.
I'm not sure how I managed to forget that, or to forget how deeply it actually affected me.
But I have been reminded.
And it is...
good.
I have been aimlessly searching for something, and I didn't usually know what it was.
Even when I thought I knew, I didn't know.
And now I know.
I just hadn't healed from that, and I was still looking for what I lost as an 18 year old.
Who knows what this soft little truth will do to my outlook and attitudes on life,
but so far it feels kinda cool.
I feel like I'm more settled now that I realize this, but I won't count on it.
It seems like my restlessness has abated.
Either that or I just got slow-cooked by the PMS fairy.
Oh well.
How's that for deep thought Sunday???
Asses and heartbreak and sex with presidents!
Woot!
Hey, that sounds like a great name for a band...
Sex with Presidents.
Presidents who look like Kiwis.
Asses and Heartbreak.
Whew...things were really deteriorating fast, weren't they??
Yes, the babysitting issues resolved themselves nicely, with the help of a super-cute pre-school owner/teacher and her husband.
She took all the kids and it went really well; she is a brave, crazy woman.
So, if you read the comments on my previous post, you may already know what I am about to tell you, but here is the longer version:
I had a very graphic sex dream about former President Bill Clinton last night.
Wowza.
It was super hot.
He was amazing.
He did every wrong thing oh-so-right.
Heh.
There was also a frightening situation with a giant truck and a steep, snowy hill.
No, it was a camper, an RV.
Anyway, it was after that that I was wooed by Slick Willy himself, so I stopped worrying about it.
Ok, enough of the dream stuff.
It has been around 100 degrees here for the past week or so and Park City wasn't much cooler.
It is higher in elevation so it usually is, but it still felt pretty bad.
We did a couple of the summer activities they have set up in tandem with the ski lifts--
an alpine slide and a zip line.
The slide is a little wheeled sled on a curvy cement slide, going down the mountain--
so
much
fun.
One of our party took a spill and scraped his arm up pretty good.
That was kinda my fault...
We were on adjacent slides and as we prepared to take off, I said, "Bet you five bucks I'll beat you."
I don't really know why I said it, because I'm not thaaat much of a daredevil, and he's heavier than I am, so he picked up momentum a lot easier...
but.
I did.
And he actually WANTED to win!!
I forgot that some people are competitive...
oops.
Even with his little tumble he still beat me.
By a LOT.
I never did pay him.
SShhhh...
So then we went to an amazing Italian place--
the same one I had patronized the night before with my girlfriends.
I love food, oh dear god how I love food!
goooood food.
Everything was exquisite, and when I ordered my dessert I had no idea what was about to happen.
My life is changed.
FOREVER.
I see a lot of wild-eyed and secretive mad dashes to the other side of the mountain in my near future.
And my distant future.
And.
Every day until I learn the recipe myself...
wait...
a better plan!
I'll go undercover as a pastry chef and pilfer the recipe from the inside.
oh, dear, sweet baby jesus with a diaper rash, that stuff was amazing!
I've seen it done before, but those were such horrid imitations that I didn't even order this dish on my first try--
but they were out of what I ordered and on a whim, I asked for it.
Lava cake.
Warm...soft...chocolate cake with a nearly-pudding-like substance filling the center.
My mouth waters just to think of it!
If I could eat that dessert off YOUR stomach, I think I might evaporate into a cloud of giddiness and satiation.
yes, I would. There is no question.
I would cease to exist in a far more ethereal manner than the word 'death' would imply.
Die happy? Yeah.
Ok.
So I worked my pecs on Friday and they feel pleasantly tight today.
Yes, I touch my breast region on occasion, why do you ask??
I went to the pool today with the boys and was mesermized by a group of young, happy Asians.
Teenagers.
So smooth and lithe and small.
Laughing and having chicken fights and doing head stands and damn that boy had amazing pecs and yeah, the girls sure didn't, but that's ok.
There are so many kinds of beauty that it really does astound me.
Yes, my favorite kind is the inner kind.
But then there's my ass fixation.
I have discovered, through trial and error, that I am not generally attracted to women.
I do, however, have a strange fascination with a particular type of women's ass.
I can objectively agree that a wide variety (pun intended) of posterior arrangements are pleasing, but I crave for my own body a certain type of ass, and when I see it, I get weak in the knees.
It's an odd sort of coveting--
when I see skinny women I get bitter and bitchy,
but when I see a woman with an ass I'd trade my parietal lobe for, then I just get swoony.
I'm not sure I can even describe it.
And I might not even truly covet such an ass, because I'm ok with not having one.
But it would sure be nice.
My trainer once taught me a few tricks to build muscle in that region for just such a purpose, but(t)...I dunno.
Maybe I'm afraid I'll grow my dream ass and become obsessed with keeping it there--
and what if I over do it, or stop exercising and it is still there, but fat insteaed of luscious???
Quel kunundrum, eh?
And you thought the boredom had crept back into the housewife!
Puh
leeeez.
I have a strange sort of peace in my heart these days.
A melancholy one, but a peace just the same.
I have finally come full circle.
I know why my heart has ached the way it has.
I finally know.
It's because there was a mortally large chunk cut out of it about 13 years ago.
I'm not sure how I managed to forget that, or to forget how deeply it actually affected me.
But I have been reminded.
And it is...
good.
I have been aimlessly searching for something, and I didn't usually know what it was.
Even when I thought I knew, I didn't know.
And now I know.
I just hadn't healed from that, and I was still looking for what I lost as an 18 year old.
Who knows what this soft little truth will do to my outlook and attitudes on life,
but so far it feels kinda cool.
I feel like I'm more settled now that I realize this, but I won't count on it.
It seems like my restlessness has abated.
Either that or I just got slow-cooked by the PMS fairy.
Oh well.
How's that for deep thought Sunday???
Asses and heartbreak and sex with presidents!
Woot!
Hey, that sounds like a great name for a band...
Sex with Presidents.
Presidents who look like Kiwis.
Asses and Heartbreak.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Too much to say, and copious amounts of time to say it...
Or not.
I can never remember if it's too much or too little, but close enough.
Last night I had a most exquisite dinner with friends,
and then saw the most delightful damned musical I can remember ever seeing--
yes, the best in memory which really only means the best this week, but still.
It was AWESOME.
I will save all my gushing for the review, but it was wonderful.
There were a couple of sexy little gay men behind us, and it turned out that one of them is the house designer for the theatre (and the other does the lighting for modern dance at my school).
Oh, the play is called, "Urinetown"--I know!
Nice name, eh??
It is the story of a time when the water supply is gravely low and because of that problem there are taxes and tarriffs on everything--only public toilets are allowed, and they cost money to use, but they are the ONLY legal option.
It was brilliant.
So much "p" alliteration and "pee" wordplay!
Funny and cheerful, and with a gregarious narrator in the role of a policeman--Officer Lockstock (yes, his buddy's name is Officer Barrel!)
And sweet Little Sally,the youngster with all the insight.
Awesome.
Pure genius.
I also had a FAAAAANTASTIC workout yesterday.
I used the new cardio cinema for the first time--
and I am still shuddering in pure un-orgasmic delight over this little invention.
I ended up extended my usually 15 minute warm up into a 35 minute cardio session.
I prefer doing weights first, but this was a good trade off.
I ALSO had a really cool surprise yesterady:
one of my boys' friends called to invite them over to play!!
It was such an "unexpected surprise (isn't that the only kind?)"--a line from the play.
It was wonderful, though, truly.
So I dropped their ornery little buts off at the friend's house,
and headed for the liquor store.
NO! Not like that--I just had to buy a bottle of Yager for the birthday boy (our friend's turning 40) and some good vodka for the jello shooters his wife commissioned me to make.
She gave me her "40" ice cub tray to make them in, so that's cute.
And did I mention we got screwed out of our babysitter for tonight?
Yeah.
I thought I had a backup plan so I didn't look as hard as I would have if I had known I had no backup plan, and then my backup plan backed out.
(for the record: I'm glad she did. she deserves a fun time, and I'm not in the least annoyed or upset at her. I PROMISE.)
But not until last night as I was driving to Park City, so I ended up nearly killing myself about 5 times on the winding canyon road--writing phone numbers while steering a car is harder than it sounds.
AND.
I have only driven to Park City from Salt Lake once before
(most of my life in Utah was spent on the other end of the canyon that leads there)
and I decided to put on mascara while taking my exit and missed the sign that told me which way to go to merge onto highway friggin 40.
So I got off (unfortunately NOT like that) and tried to see some signs, and, knowing I was going east, I got on I-80 going east.
I immediately realized this was wrong.
But the sign said the first exit was in 7 miles.
FAAAAAAAAACK.
With unexpected fortune, I came upon (no, again, not like THAT--but I'm beginning to be bitter about the fact that there was none of that) a Ranch Exit after only a mile or so.
Praise the jeebus and his 12 apostle-yptic reindeer!
So I turned around and yadda yadda yadda, I got there.
Oh yeah, I forgot that when I applied my mascara to my FIRST eye I failed to notice that my line was ending and I almost got run over by a semi.
It was pretty fucking ridiculous.
Me, my driving--that's what was ridiculous.
Oh well.
At least I have jello shooters in my fridge.
At dinner my 3 friends all volunteered to come stay with my kids tonight so I could continue with my planned overnight, and I even agreed to let one of them do it, but...
I am feeling really weird about it.
Like she's going to end up hating me, or my kids, or all of us.
And she reads this, so she'll probably come comment that I'm being silly and she doesn't mind at all, blah blah blah, but the thing is, I'm still worried.
My kids rock, they do, but they're also a giant handful.
Like, an armful.
Blurg.
So, we're brain-storming for options I'll be comfortable with.
I'm sure you're dying to know how this turns out.
Dying I tell ya, dying!
Just had an idea....
Ok, well, it'll all be super fun regardless.
Or irregardless.
Heh.
I hope you're all having happy and satisfying saturdays.
Oh, and we finally picked out a camera.
woooot!
should be buying it today if all this babysitting crap works out.
I can never remember if it's too much or too little, but close enough.
Last night I had a most exquisite dinner with friends,
and then saw the most delightful damned musical I can remember ever seeing--
yes, the best in memory which really only means the best this week, but still.
It was AWESOME.
I will save all my gushing for the review, but it was wonderful.
There were a couple of sexy little gay men behind us, and it turned out that one of them is the house designer for the theatre (and the other does the lighting for modern dance at my school).
Oh, the play is called, "Urinetown"--I know!
Nice name, eh??
It is the story of a time when the water supply is gravely low and because of that problem there are taxes and tarriffs on everything--only public toilets are allowed, and they cost money to use, but they are the ONLY legal option.
It was brilliant.
So much "p" alliteration and "pee" wordplay!
Funny and cheerful, and with a gregarious narrator in the role of a policeman--Officer Lockstock (yes, his buddy's name is Officer Barrel!)
And sweet Little Sally,the youngster with all the insight.
Awesome.
Pure genius.
I also had a FAAAAANTASTIC workout yesterday.
I used the new cardio cinema for the first time--
and I am still shuddering in pure un-orgasmic delight over this little invention.
I ended up extended my usually 15 minute warm up into a 35 minute cardio session.
I prefer doing weights first, but this was a good trade off.
I ALSO had a really cool surprise yesterady:
one of my boys' friends called to invite them over to play!!
It was such an "unexpected surprise (isn't that the only kind?)"--a line from the play.
It was wonderful, though, truly.
So I dropped their ornery little buts off at the friend's house,
and headed for the liquor store.
NO! Not like that--I just had to buy a bottle of Yager for the birthday boy (our friend's turning 40) and some good vodka for the jello shooters his wife commissioned me to make.
She gave me her "40" ice cub tray to make them in, so that's cute.
And did I mention we got screwed out of our babysitter for tonight?
Yeah.
I thought I had a backup plan so I didn't look as hard as I would have if I had known I had no backup plan, and then my backup plan backed out.
(for the record: I'm glad she did. she deserves a fun time, and I'm not in the least annoyed or upset at her. I PROMISE.)
But not until last night as I was driving to Park City, so I ended up nearly killing myself about 5 times on the winding canyon road--writing phone numbers while steering a car is harder than it sounds.
AND.
I have only driven to Park City from Salt Lake once before
(most of my life in Utah was spent on the other end of the canyon that leads there)
and I decided to put on mascara while taking my exit and missed the sign that told me which way to go to merge onto highway friggin 40.
So I got off (unfortunately NOT like that) and tried to see some signs, and, knowing I was going east, I got on I-80 going east.
I immediately realized this was wrong.
But the sign said the first exit was in 7 miles.
FAAAAAAAAACK.
With unexpected fortune, I came upon (no, again, not like THAT--but I'm beginning to be bitter about the fact that there was none of that) a Ranch Exit after only a mile or so.
Praise the jeebus and his 12 apostle-yptic reindeer!
So I turned around and yadda yadda yadda, I got there.
Oh yeah, I forgot that when I applied my mascara to my FIRST eye I failed to notice that my line was ending and I almost got run over by a semi.
It was pretty fucking ridiculous.
Me, my driving--that's what was ridiculous.
Oh well.
At least I have jello shooters in my fridge.
At dinner my 3 friends all volunteered to come stay with my kids tonight so I could continue with my planned overnight, and I even agreed to let one of them do it, but...
I am feeling really weird about it.
Like she's going to end up hating me, or my kids, or all of us.
And she reads this, so she'll probably come comment that I'm being silly and she doesn't mind at all, blah blah blah, but the thing is, I'm still worried.
My kids rock, they do, but they're also a giant handful.
Like, an armful.
Blurg.
So, we're brain-storming for options I'll be comfortable with.
I'm sure you're dying to know how this turns out.
Dying I tell ya, dying!
Just had an idea....
Ok, well, it'll all be super fun regardless.
Or irregardless.
Heh.
I hope you're all having happy and satisfying saturdays.
Oh, and we finally picked out a camera.
woooot!
should be buying it today if all this babysitting crap works out.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
What a day for a day dream!
Or a fiery rant...
whichever.
If you're no longer a fan because I've stopped exhibiting the least of my assets, then get a life. You have no idea how offensive that is to me.
As for the rest of you, who understand the value of a human being, it just so happens that I was just getting ready to post my latest braless shot. This little ass polyp just made me reconsider for the moment. Fuuuuuck. I mean, it's one thing to be appreciated for your natural beauty, but it is quite another to be harassed about the lack of NEW pictures of said beauty--are there not enough in the friggin' archives??? Christ.
Rather coincidentally, I just returned from my swimming pool.
Apparently it was fake blondes with fake boobs day and no one told me.
Yes, I would have gladly stayed away, even if that meant I had to digest the entirety of the calories from my lunch (rather than hurling...get it? ha!).
I think Utah is working hard to break my spirit again.
HOWEVER.
The good news is:
I get to spend the next couple of days in Park City, which is as close to leaving the state as you can get without actually leaving.
A wonderful musical on Friday night and a great day/birthday celebration with good friends on Saturday and a hotel so we don't have to drive home after partying.
gooood times.
Oh...that reminds me.
So I went to that scrapbook-ish party last night.
The lying bitch was there, but everyone else was happy to see me and excited to catch up and stuff.
I don't heal quickly from heart breaks...
so.
it was hard to see her.
Again, I am left wondering.
How can people behave so?
How can someone who seems kind and loving be so cruel and shameless?
How could she believe the things she said (says?) about me?
oh well.
I don't need her.
What a stupid fucking post this has turned out to be.
Maybe it's hard to write when your insides are doing the Time Warp.
I want to set my soul free, and see where it lands.
...haven't found the door to its paddock yet, though.
whichever.
If you're no longer a fan because I've stopped exhibiting the least of my assets, then get a life. You have no idea how offensive that is to me.
As for the rest of you, who understand the value of a human being, it just so happens that I was just getting ready to post my latest braless shot. This little ass polyp just made me reconsider for the moment. Fuuuuuck. I mean, it's one thing to be appreciated for your natural beauty, but it is quite another to be harassed about the lack of NEW pictures of said beauty--are there not enough in the friggin' archives??? Christ.
Rather coincidentally, I just returned from my swimming pool.
Apparently it was fake blondes with fake boobs day and no one told me.
Yes, I would have gladly stayed away, even if that meant I had to digest the entirety of the calories from my lunch (rather than hurling...get it? ha!).
I think Utah is working hard to break my spirit again.
HOWEVER.
The good news is:
I get to spend the next couple of days in Park City, which is as close to leaving the state as you can get without actually leaving.
A wonderful musical on Friday night and a great day/birthday celebration with good friends on Saturday and a hotel so we don't have to drive home after partying.
gooood times.
Oh...that reminds me.
So I went to that scrapbook-ish party last night.
The lying bitch was there, but everyone else was happy to see me and excited to catch up and stuff.
I don't heal quickly from heart breaks...
so.
it was hard to see her.
Again, I am left wondering.
How can people behave so?
How can someone who seems kind and loving be so cruel and shameless?
How could she believe the things she said (says?) about me?
oh well.
I don't need her.
What a stupid fucking post this has turned out to be.
Maybe it's hard to write when your insides are doing the Time Warp.
I want to set my soul free, and see where it lands.
...haven't found the door to its paddock yet, though.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Procrastination:
My favorite hobby!
Ok, so I have to finish up 3 articles at some point today...
Do you love how I push the limits?
He said, "Due Tuesday."
I say, "Cool. I'll start Monday night."
I got a lot done last night, but I have a way to go.
When I finish, I'm taking the kids to the pool.
I will bring my book and re-read all my favorites, plus try to discover one or two that may have slipped through the cracks on my initial read-through.
If you haven't read these stories, you ought to be shot.
Or not.
I have too many dreams to fit in my head, today.
My timeline is completely fucked up, to boot.
I am going to be hungry soon, and I'd rather just go eat.
But I have stories to write.
Happy Birthday to my favorite nephew!!!
He's 3 today, and could not possibly be cuter or sweeter.
I can't wait until I can blog again...
I feel so disconnected from this odd little world.
Maybe I'll just float away...
Ok, so I have to finish up 3 articles at some point today...
Do you love how I push the limits?
He said, "Due Tuesday."
I say, "Cool. I'll start Monday night."
I got a lot done last night, but I have a way to go.
When I finish, I'm taking the kids to the pool.
I will bring my book and re-read all my favorites, plus try to discover one or two that may have slipped through the cracks on my initial read-through.
If you haven't read these stories, you ought to be shot.
Or not.
I have too many dreams to fit in my head, today.
My timeline is completely fucked up, to boot.
I am going to be hungry soon, and I'd rather just go eat.
But I have stories to write.
Happy Birthday to my favorite nephew!!!
He's 3 today, and could not possibly be cuter or sweeter.
I can't wait until I can blog again...
I feel so disconnected from this odd little world.
Maybe I'll just float away...
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Sunday, muddy Sunday--
Ok, not so much "mud" as puddles of water and grass clippings, but somehow that just didn't have the same ring to it.
Had a lovely family dinner for the boys' birthday today.
It has been 100 degress or more for several days now, and damn it feels good to be a gansta.
Or to have air conditioning that works...
I cannot even imagine what these days would have been like if I had known how hot it was.
I literally was unaware of the temperature save for reading about it.
Ok, there was that one time that I was walking from the car to a store, and I forgot to close my mouth while I was breathing and I nearly suffocated.
But I don't think that was the heat...just in-breeding.
Har.
Speaking of in-breeding, I think my brother M's son has a crush on my brother J's daughter.
And my 19 year old niece is marrying a future doctor, which is cool enough, but the kid can WIGGLE HIS EARS.
It fucking rocks.
So my desk top computer has bitten the dust,
and I'm relegated to my laptop...
which is fine, but...
I had some links saved in my favorites on the desktop that I need for writing my articles tonight
AND
I can't be expected to remember that sort of thing!
Puh-leez.
As if.
I took the boys swimming this morning.
It was really nice.
I forgot to take a book or a notebook,
so instead I slept.
It was really nice...
I didn't want to wake up.
I dreamed in soft, rich colors;
I think the sun and heat infused the thoughts in my head.
I reached out through the mist of my mind and crafted some wonderful stories.
While we played in the water, one of the boys asked me what I would do if I didn't have them--
I, of course, anwsered sarcastically, "I'd have more than 5 minutes of peace at a time."
"You'd be sad, Mom. And you wouldn't have anyone to play with!"
Aaaaw...he's right.
So then he asked me why some people don't have kids.
And I told him that some people aren't ready yet, or don't want to.
I didn't include the saddest example--that some people want to more than anything, but can't.
I knew that with their inquisitive minds they wouldn't let up until I had explained that one further than necessary.
I always forget that they don't need to know EVERYTHING.
While we're on a somber note...
I'll tell you something that broke my heart.
On their birthday we had a cake, and when they blew out their candles, Oliver said, "I wish to be an angel!"
The joy on his face was a perfect opposite of the fear that tore through my heart.
"No, baby--no, you don't want to be angel."
Becky said, "It's ok...he didn't blow them all out in one try."
I breathed again.
Neither of us noticed that he spoke his wish aloud, and that's another negating factor.
I just can't tell you how it shook me.
My precious, fragile one.
I wanted to inhale and suck his little body right back into the heart of mine, in that moment, so that he could gain some of my strength.
Bah.
Life is good.
Must write articles.
First, must cut fingernails.
They've grown out of control again and are fucking up my typing.
OH!
I had a visit from the cutest little mormon missionaries this morning...
I always feel this urge to tell them my whole story--
that I used to be more faithful than they could even imagine but that I now know it's all a crock of shit.
I have a hard time being that direct, though.
They asked if I still have a Book of Mormon around, and goddamnit, but I didn't think fast enough and told them I had no need--
I would frigging LOVE to have a nice, fresh, blue Book to do dirty things to/with/on/over/around!
...what?
Oh, fuck off.
It's good for me.
Their next move was to ask me if they could leave a pamphlet thingy with me.
I said, "No. I already know what's in there and I'm not interested, thank you. Have a nice day, though."
And I closed the door.
The boys asked me who it was, and I said, "Some people who wanted me to go to their church."
"oh, you don't LIKE to go to church, though, right mom?"
you got it, kiddo.
fucking fuckers.
Fucking NONfuckers, technically.
Ok, have a happy night.
Had a lovely family dinner for the boys' birthday today.
It has been 100 degress or more for several days now, and damn it feels good to be a gansta.
Or to have air conditioning that works...
I cannot even imagine what these days would have been like if I had known how hot it was.
I literally was unaware of the temperature save for reading about it.
Ok, there was that one time that I was walking from the car to a store, and I forgot to close my mouth while I was breathing and I nearly suffocated.
But I don't think that was the heat...just in-breeding.
Har.
Speaking of in-breeding, I think my brother M's son has a crush on my brother J's daughter.
And my 19 year old niece is marrying a future doctor, which is cool enough, but the kid can WIGGLE HIS EARS.
It fucking rocks.
So my desk top computer has bitten the dust,
and I'm relegated to my laptop...
which is fine, but...
I had some links saved in my favorites on the desktop that I need for writing my articles tonight
AND
I can't be expected to remember that sort of thing!
Puh-leez.
As if.
I took the boys swimming this morning.
It was really nice.
I forgot to take a book or a notebook,
so instead I slept.
It was really nice...
I didn't want to wake up.
I dreamed in soft, rich colors;
I think the sun and heat infused the thoughts in my head.
I reached out through the mist of my mind and crafted some wonderful stories.
While we played in the water, one of the boys asked me what I would do if I didn't have them--
I, of course, anwsered sarcastically, "I'd have more than 5 minutes of peace at a time."
"You'd be sad, Mom. And you wouldn't have anyone to play with!"
Aaaaw...he's right.
So then he asked me why some people don't have kids.
And I told him that some people aren't ready yet, or don't want to.
I didn't include the saddest example--that some people want to more than anything, but can't.
I knew that with their inquisitive minds they wouldn't let up until I had explained that one further than necessary.
I always forget that they don't need to know EVERYTHING.
While we're on a somber note...
I'll tell you something that broke my heart.
On their birthday we had a cake, and when they blew out their candles, Oliver said, "I wish to be an angel!"
The joy on his face was a perfect opposite of the fear that tore through my heart.
"No, baby--no, you don't want to be angel."
Becky said, "It's ok...he didn't blow them all out in one try."
I breathed again.
Neither of us noticed that he spoke his wish aloud, and that's another negating factor.
I just can't tell you how it shook me.
My precious, fragile one.
I wanted to inhale and suck his little body right back into the heart of mine, in that moment, so that he could gain some of my strength.
Bah.
Life is good.
Must write articles.
First, must cut fingernails.
They've grown out of control again and are fucking up my typing.
OH!
I had a visit from the cutest little mormon missionaries this morning...
I always feel this urge to tell them my whole story--
that I used to be more faithful than they could even imagine but that I now know it's all a crock of shit.
I have a hard time being that direct, though.
They asked if I still have a Book of Mormon around, and goddamnit, but I didn't think fast enough and told them I had no need--
I would frigging LOVE to have a nice, fresh, blue Book to do dirty things to/with/on/over/around!
...what?
Oh, fuck off.
It's good for me.
Their next move was to ask me if they could leave a pamphlet thingy with me.
I said, "No. I already know what's in there and I'm not interested, thank you. Have a nice day, though."
And I closed the door.
The boys asked me who it was, and I said, "Some people who wanted me to go to their church."
"oh, you don't LIKE to go to church, though, right mom?"
you got it, kiddo.
fucking fuckers.
Fucking NONfuckers, technically.
Ok, have a happy night.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Come on baby, make it hurt so good--
No, seriously.
You know you want to.
So my husband has been wooing me latley...
I think he got the point, after last week's semi-nervous breakdown.
Or whenever that was.
He has been extra super special and he claims that on Monday he'll quit smoking and start working out, but we'll see.
These things only bother me in a "you're planning to retire at 45 so you can enjoy life, but refuse to quit smoking and start exercise so you are clearly retarded." sorta way.
I would love it if he would get healthy with me.
It would help me to stay motivated, too.
I mean...I'd hate to be the hot one of the couple, ya know?
That's just not my bag, baby.
Ok, maybe I could handle it, but I prefer to be on equal ground.
And he's a handsome man.
And we all know that I am...uh...really obsessed with my boobs and/or general appearance, so that counts for something.
ha.
I'm really not...I swear.
Anyway.
Who gives a steaming pile of shit???
I hate it when my boringness takes over like that.
And now...
I'm waiting for hubby to finish up a fucking quest or some bullshit so we can go have dinner.
I'm smiling, though.
I don't mind at all.
I wish I had something sparkly or sexy to leave with you...
maybe later.
You know you want to.
So my husband has been wooing me latley...
I think he got the point, after last week's semi-nervous breakdown.
Or whenever that was.
He has been extra super special and he claims that on Monday he'll quit smoking and start working out, but we'll see.
These things only bother me in a "you're planning to retire at 45 so you can enjoy life, but refuse to quit smoking and start exercise so you are clearly retarded." sorta way.
I would love it if he would get healthy with me.
It would help me to stay motivated, too.
I mean...I'd hate to be the hot one of the couple, ya know?
That's just not my bag, baby.
Ok, maybe I could handle it, but I prefer to be on equal ground.
And he's a handsome man.
And we all know that I am...uh...really obsessed with my boobs and/or general appearance, so that counts for something.
ha.
I'm really not...I swear.
Anyway.
Who gives a steaming pile of shit???
I hate it when my boringness takes over like that.
And now...
I'm waiting for hubby to finish up a fucking quest or some bullshit so we can go have dinner.
I'm smiling, though.
I don't mind at all.
I wish I had something sparkly or sexy to leave with you...
maybe later.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Happy Birthday, Babies!!!!
Today is the day--
my handsome little ones turn SIX.
That means it has been six years since that hot day.
Six years since I was achy and itchy and pretending my contractions were going nowhere.
Six years since my water broke.
Six years since I knew the joy of an epidural,
and six years since I had the two tiniest, sweetest little boys in the whole world placed into my arms.
I will never forget the way their little hands would press the air around them...it was like watching butterflies in slow motion, and I could happily do it for hours.
So this morning, being woken too early by lanky naked children clamboring onto my bed with stacks of presents...well, it was ok, I guess.
We already managed to lose the coolest airplane that my mom sent.
over the neighbor's fence.
ack.
We'll get it back.
I haven't given them their GameBoy Advances yet.
I'm such a bitch.
But hey--
I figure I'll make the excitement last a little longer if I can.
Usually they get a higher quantity of lower quality gifts, so they may be a little disappointed to just have one big thing (plus a couple of games and a couple of movies...I couldn't resist the movies, they're on such a Charlie Brown kick lately!)
Whatever.
They're spoiled rotten.
...but in a good way.
Here's the original birthday blog post, if you're interested.
Oliver, 2003
Max, 2003
2003
...and I guess this means it's time for me to take some new pictures!
Yes, I have more, but nothing recent that's very good.
Dangit.
my handsome little ones turn SIX.
That means it has been six years since that hot day.
Six years since I was achy and itchy and pretending my contractions were going nowhere.
Six years since my water broke.
Six years since I knew the joy of an epidural,
and six years since I had the two tiniest, sweetest little boys in the whole world placed into my arms.
I will never forget the way their little hands would press the air around them...it was like watching butterflies in slow motion, and I could happily do it for hours.
So this morning, being woken too early by lanky naked children clamboring onto my bed with stacks of presents...well, it was ok, I guess.
We already managed to lose the coolest airplane that my mom sent.
over the neighbor's fence.
ack.
We'll get it back.
I haven't given them their GameBoy Advances yet.
I'm such a bitch.
But hey--
I figure I'll make the excitement last a little longer if I can.
Usually they get a higher quantity of lower quality gifts, so they may be a little disappointed to just have one big thing (plus a couple of games and a couple of movies...I couldn't resist the movies, they're on such a Charlie Brown kick lately!)
Whatever.
They're spoiled rotten.
...but in a good way.
Here's the original birthday blog post, if you're interested.
Oliver, 2003
Max, 2003
2003
...and I guess this means it's time for me to take some new pictures!
Yes, I have more, but nothing recent that's very good.
Dangit.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Zippidy Doo Daaaaaaaa
I just ate my lunch so fast that I don't remember if it tasted good.
I happen to KNOW that it tasted good, from past experience, but as for this encounter?
No clue.
All I know is I was Hungry.
I was like the entire country of Hungary, in fact.
...what?
Ok, so.
I finally bought the new Chili Peppers album, Stadium Arcadium.
I am digging it so far.
Also, and unrelatedly, I will be doing my first restaurant review sometime this weekend!!!
I am beyond thrilled--can't even tell you.
I feel free.
I am finished with the self-pity, I am just going to live.
I am going to try, at least.
I recently learned something I never knew about my brothers--the ones I never lived with, the ones who were my father's before he met my mother.
The ones who were even older than my mother's sons, the ones who live here in Utah and are a big part of my life now.
The ones who are not plural anymore...
it's been...oh, god...it's been 16 years since he died.
I can't believe I was a teenager 16 years ago...is my math right??
fuck.
That's a detail, a footnote--an epilogue.
What I gained recently was an understanding of their relationship with each other.
I never really knew them together.
Their names go together like a foot in a well-worn shoe, even still, but they were usually separate in my memories.
Anyway, my mother's sons were talking about them a couple of weeks ago.
What a story!
I am telling this all inside out and backwards, aren't I?
I should back up or slow down, because I don't really want to lose the details, or the impressions.
Well.
My brothers who live here were moved to Maine with their new father, all the way across the country in the back of a U-Haul...yes, they rode with the cargo.
You must understand, these brothers are hilarious, and so the story was lively and would feel like an exaggeration if you didn't know.
They joked about passing out from the heat and how the walkie-talkies my mom gave them in order to communicate with the adults was useless--"Oh, the boys are fine. We would have heard from them if they weren't." etc.
So, anyway...at the tail end of this 4 day journey of madness, my crazy dad stopped in Warren and threw his two sons into the back with their new brothers and drove the remaining 6 or 7 miles to the house.
His sons were...13 and 15 (I think) and hers were 12 and 10.
Hers were Mormon and his were...already smoking, drinking and screwing.
So anyway, that was the story of their first meeting.
Funny, with all those brothers, can you believe I never had a meaningful male-female relationship in my family until adulthood?
My Dad loves me, but he worked 20 hour days for most of my childhood.
I'm not much exaggerating there, but maybe more like 17 or 18 on average.
Anyway, that's what I've decided is the root of my inability to approach a male-female relationship with anything other than flirtation.
Sorry.
heh.
Ok, so.
the relationship between the two rebel brothers.
The two outlaws.
The younger brother, the one who died at 28, the one who left behind a son who needs a father more than most, was the one with the mouth.
He would start trouble with the ease of starting a car.
I remember his car...the silver Corvette.
I remember the Doberman, the gold tooth.
yeah, he thought he was a bad ass.
I think he was a drug dealer.
But he, like all of my family, was mainly a fisherman.
Anyway.
All of this just to say that his older brother was always the one who would end up winning the fights that he started with random people in bars or wherever.
He would step in to help out his smart-ass little brother and end things.
This didn't come out at all the way it was in my mind.
I wanted to capture this foggy picture I had of them and show you these two boys I never knew.
Well, whatever.
I just received the pictures from the Braless Two-fer-Tuesday shoot the other night.
I can't post them until I have a shot of the photographer to include; he insists up on it.
Ok, time to get a drink (of water) and talk myself into going to the gym instead of for a nap....oh, who am I kidding?
Sweet dreams to ME!
I happen to KNOW that it tasted good, from past experience, but as for this encounter?
No clue.
All I know is I was Hungry.
I was like the entire country of Hungary, in fact.
...what?
Ok, so.
I finally bought the new Chili Peppers album, Stadium Arcadium.
I am digging it so far.
Also, and unrelatedly, I will be doing my first restaurant review sometime this weekend!!!
I am beyond thrilled--can't even tell you.
I feel free.
I am finished with the self-pity, I am just going to live.
I am going to try, at least.
I recently learned something I never knew about my brothers--the ones I never lived with, the ones who were my father's before he met my mother.
The ones who were even older than my mother's sons, the ones who live here in Utah and are a big part of my life now.
The ones who are not plural anymore...
it's been...oh, god...it's been 16 years since he died.
I can't believe I was a teenager 16 years ago...is my math right??
fuck.
That's a detail, a footnote--an epilogue.
What I gained recently was an understanding of their relationship with each other.
I never really knew them together.
Their names go together like a foot in a well-worn shoe, even still, but they were usually separate in my memories.
Anyway, my mother's sons were talking about them a couple of weeks ago.
What a story!
I am telling this all inside out and backwards, aren't I?
I should back up or slow down, because I don't really want to lose the details, or the impressions.
Well.
My brothers who live here were moved to Maine with their new father, all the way across the country in the back of a U-Haul...yes, they rode with the cargo.
You must understand, these brothers are hilarious, and so the story was lively and would feel like an exaggeration if you didn't know.
They joked about passing out from the heat and how the walkie-talkies my mom gave them in order to communicate with the adults was useless--"Oh, the boys are fine. We would have heard from them if they weren't." etc.
So, anyway...at the tail end of this 4 day journey of madness, my crazy dad stopped in Warren and threw his two sons into the back with their new brothers and drove the remaining 6 or 7 miles to the house.
His sons were...13 and 15 (I think) and hers were 12 and 10.
Hers were Mormon and his were...already smoking, drinking and screwing.
So anyway, that was the story of their first meeting.
Funny, with all those brothers, can you believe I never had a meaningful male-female relationship in my family until adulthood?
My Dad loves me, but he worked 20 hour days for most of my childhood.
I'm not much exaggerating there, but maybe more like 17 or 18 on average.
Anyway, that's what I've decided is the root of my inability to approach a male-female relationship with anything other than flirtation.
Sorry.
heh.
Ok, so.
the relationship between the two rebel brothers.
The two outlaws.
The younger brother, the one who died at 28, the one who left behind a son who needs a father more than most, was the one with the mouth.
He would start trouble with the ease of starting a car.
I remember his car...the silver Corvette.
I remember the Doberman, the gold tooth.
yeah, he thought he was a bad ass.
I think he was a drug dealer.
But he, like all of my family, was mainly a fisherman.
Anyway.
All of this just to say that his older brother was always the one who would end up winning the fights that he started with random people in bars or wherever.
He would step in to help out his smart-ass little brother and end things.
This didn't come out at all the way it was in my mind.
I wanted to capture this foggy picture I had of them and show you these two boys I never knew.
Well, whatever.
I just received the pictures from the Braless Two-fer-Tuesday shoot the other night.
I can't post them until I have a shot of the photographer to include; he insists up on it.
Ok, time to get a drink (of water) and talk myself into going to the gym instead of for a nap....oh, who am I kidding?
Sweet dreams to ME!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
It has been a rainy summer
here in the high desert.
Last night I stepped to the back door to...I don't know, maybe lock it?
And the sky was filled with a thick rainbow--right there above us, like it had arrived on special order.
The whole thing was visible, except for one little spot in the middle-ish where there was a clump of clouds.
It was probably the best rainbow I've ever seen.
I, of course, ran upstairs immediately to bring the boys down to see it.
The looks on each of their faces as they took it in were even better than the brilliant stripes of color.
So amazing.
I had a nice dinner with my friend and her boyfriend.
He was kind enough to take a couple of braless Tuesday photos of us girls.
You'll get them as soon as I do, I promise.
I can't believe I haven't written about my trip yet.
I can't believe I have had neither time nor inspiration to write about it.
I should have.
I woke up growling today.
Don't know why.
I guess I should go eat, so I can fight the blood sugar demons.
And now I'm on the phone, and I lack the interest to come back to this when I finish.
sorry.....
Last night I stepped to the back door to...I don't know, maybe lock it?
And the sky was filled with a thick rainbow--right there above us, like it had arrived on special order.
The whole thing was visible, except for one little spot in the middle-ish where there was a clump of clouds.
It was probably the best rainbow I've ever seen.
I, of course, ran upstairs immediately to bring the boys down to see it.
The looks on each of their faces as they took it in were even better than the brilliant stripes of color.
So amazing.
I had a nice dinner with my friend and her boyfriend.
He was kind enough to take a couple of braless Tuesday photos of us girls.
You'll get them as soon as I do, I promise.
I can't believe I haven't written about my trip yet.
I can't believe I have had neither time nor inspiration to write about it.
I should have.
I woke up growling today.
Don't know why.
I guess I should go eat, so I can fight the blood sugar demons.
And now I'm on the phone, and I lack the interest to come back to this when I finish.
sorry.....
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I wonder if they make Midol for the soul?
Don't answer that.
I have a grand and fun-filled day ahead.
and now I'm on the phone with my mother-in-law...great fun. oh joy.
well, so much for posting.
time to shower and power forward.
I miss you guys.
I have so much to write...but I'm craving carrot cake!
(totally unrelated, sorry).
i'll audio or photo post later. I promise.
happy tuesday--maybe i'll even make it braless...
I have a grand and fun-filled day ahead.
and now I'm on the phone with my mother-in-law...great fun. oh joy.
well, so much for posting.
time to shower and power forward.
I miss you guys.
I have so much to write...but I'm craving carrot cake!
(totally unrelated, sorry).
i'll audio or photo post later. I promise.
happy tuesday--maybe i'll even make it braless...
Saturday, July 08, 2006
I should write when I can write...
rather than when my head is filled up with just-out-of-reach Zs...
My friend called today.
She asked if it is hot here.
I said, "uh...it is as warm as an oven that I've just baked something in...and then turned off for a while..."
I am.
a.
dork.
I have been told that the sunsets here are to be envied by the sun itself.
I think it is nearing that time, but I am inside, drapes closed.
Pretty, sunset-toned drapes.
I will peer out in a moment.
Also.
I visited the home of an artist today.
She is herself a rather stunning woman, with grace and beauty wafting out of her like the scent of fresh-baked bread.
...and her paintings...
are.
truly amazing.
They left me speechless.
Agog.
I wanted to climb inside them and feel the colors soaking into me.
i wanted to wrap myself in one of the canvases and dream the scene into my soul, through osmosis.
I will buy one.
Someday.
There is freedom and joy and richness and sharpness and life
in her brush strokes.
She has a website, but I fear that to see her works anything other than lifesized and in all their dimensions would be unfair.
Trust me.
And I will post a link, because I think they are still beautiful in their digital representations, but.
Oh, oh!
They are not done justice.
I just pulled back a drape...
in this dark room, empty.
Everyone's napping...long night we had.
Long day.
The sunset looks soft, and smudgy.
I think I'm getting gypped.
Or maybe that was earlier, at the Palm Readers' joint?
I could write ten pages on the waiting room:
the old man who switched between engish and another language, almost by sentence,
conversing with a woman who only spoke accented english--though she clearly understood his other language.
The scrawny, darty-eyed young man sporadically entertaining the baby in the stroller.
The woman in the "sit down and shut up" t-shirt, who would read my palm when my friend finished her reading with the other..."psychic"...
eh.
For apparent crazies, they were DAMNED precise.
Whatever.
I loved it.
It was the right thing to do on a hotter than an oven (during cool down) afternoon.
It was good.
The funeral rocked.
We snickered and laughed and made funnnnny jokes to each other the whole way through.
We harbor absolutely no reverence for the church itself and the man, well, yeah.
*cough*pedophile*cough*
so it was cool.
When the one dude launched into the Articles of damned FAITH (practically) I whispered to my friend, "i can't believe you forgot our cyanide capsules!" and when we stopped giggling, I pretended to use my finger nails to slash my wrists.
I am a heathen.
I will take the express train to hell, no wasting time in purgatory for me!
woot!
ok, so it's time to ready ourselves for dinner/drinks.
later---
My friend called today.
She asked if it is hot here.
I said, "uh...it is as warm as an oven that I've just baked something in...and then turned off for a while..."
I am.
a.
dork.
I have been told that the sunsets here are to be envied by the sun itself.
I think it is nearing that time, but I am inside, drapes closed.
Pretty, sunset-toned drapes.
I will peer out in a moment.
Also.
I visited the home of an artist today.
She is herself a rather stunning woman, with grace and beauty wafting out of her like the scent of fresh-baked bread.
...and her paintings...
are.
truly amazing.
They left me speechless.
Agog.
I wanted to climb inside them and feel the colors soaking into me.
i wanted to wrap myself in one of the canvases and dream the scene into my soul, through osmosis.
I will buy one.
Someday.
There is freedom and joy and richness and sharpness and life
in her brush strokes.
She has a website, but I fear that to see her works anything other than lifesized and in all their dimensions would be unfair.
Trust me.
And I will post a link, because I think they are still beautiful in their digital representations, but.
Oh, oh!
They are not done justice.
I just pulled back a drape...
in this dark room, empty.
Everyone's napping...long night we had.
Long day.
The sunset looks soft, and smudgy.
I think I'm getting gypped.
Or maybe that was earlier, at the Palm Readers' joint?
I could write ten pages on the waiting room:
the old man who switched between engish and another language, almost by sentence,
conversing with a woman who only spoke accented english--though she clearly understood his other language.
The scrawny, darty-eyed young man sporadically entertaining the baby in the stroller.
The woman in the "sit down and shut up" t-shirt, who would read my palm when my friend finished her reading with the other..."psychic"...
eh.
For apparent crazies, they were DAMNED precise.
Whatever.
I loved it.
It was the right thing to do on a hotter than an oven (during cool down) afternoon.
It was good.
The funeral rocked.
We snickered and laughed and made funnnnny jokes to each other the whole way through.
We harbor absolutely no reverence for the church itself and the man, well, yeah.
*cough*pedophile*cough*
so it was cool.
When the one dude launched into the Articles of damned FAITH (practically) I whispered to my friend, "i can't believe you forgot our cyanide capsules!" and when we stopped giggling, I pretended to use my finger nails to slash my wrists.
I am a heathen.
I will take the express train to hell, no wasting time in purgatory for me!
woot!
ok, so it's time to ready ourselves for dinner/drinks.
later---
Friday, July 07, 2006
Goin' to Arizona to bury a molestor--
Hell YES, it's going to be a good time!
Fucking dirtbag.
One of my best friends' grandfathers, to be specific.
(seems to be a trend with Mormons; someday I MUST do a study on the phenomenon)
So we're going to have a great ole road trip out of it, and start drinking as soon as the shitking is in the ground.
The point is: I'll be mostly out of touch over the weekend.
Maybe an audiopost and some photo-text posts from the phone.
Braless Weekend, baby!
Now: time to shower, finish packing, go have lunch with a non-blogger friend and her rug-type rats.
Then...off, into the great wide open.
As much as I whine about missng my husband...
it kind of feels good to be the one going, rather than the one getting left behind.
Stupid business trips.
...but I do love that paycheck, so there's no complaining!
Anywho.
The girl I'm going with is the world's best editor, so I'm going to have her help me with my semi-shitty Shakespeare reviews.
I've realized the problem with my writing lately...
i'm taking it too seriously.
Something about "theatre" made me feel like I had to be all uppity.
And this is no exception, but after this piece, I think I'll try to loosen up a bit.
I'm sure you were all DYING to know that.
I don't know if I was supposed to write something else with the word "rock", but I am plum out of time.
Mona shoulda known...
That's ok, I think yesterday's post counts.
have happy and productive (or reproductive!) weekends, everybody!
smooches--
Fucking dirtbag.
One of my best friends' grandfathers, to be specific.
(seems to be a trend with Mormons; someday I MUST do a study on the phenomenon)
So we're going to have a great ole road trip out of it, and start drinking as soon as the shitking is in the ground.
The point is: I'll be mostly out of touch over the weekend.
Maybe an audiopost and some photo-text posts from the phone.
Braless Weekend, baby!
Now: time to shower, finish packing, go have lunch with a non-blogger friend and her rug-type rats.
Then...off, into the great wide open.
As much as I whine about missng my husband...
it kind of feels good to be the one going, rather than the one getting left behind.
Stupid business trips.
...but I do love that paycheck, so there's no complaining!
Anywho.
The girl I'm going with is the world's best editor, so I'm going to have her help me with my semi-shitty Shakespeare reviews.
I've realized the problem with my writing lately...
i'm taking it too seriously.
Something about "theatre" made me feel like I had to be all uppity.
And this is no exception, but after this piece, I think I'll try to loosen up a bit.
I'm sure you were all DYING to know that.
I don't know if I was supposed to write something else with the word "rock", but I am plum out of time.
Mona shoulda known...
That's ok, I think yesterday's post counts.
have happy and productive (or reproductive!) weekends, everybody!
smooches--
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Oh, you better FUCKING believe that I'm here to rock!
No half-assed posting tonight.
No half-dressed posting tonight.
Absolutely no half-expressed, half-bred, half-wit, half-n-half
posting
TO
NIGHT.
Fuck THAT.
Fuck mediocrity.
Fuck blandness.
Fuck boredom.
Fuck vanilla.
Fuck you.
Fuck...
yeah...you know what's next, baby.
Fuck
ME.
Hard, if ya don't mind.
Leave teeth marks, leave bruises.
Taste my sweat, smile at my tears,
wince as the claw marks down your back turn red.
At this particular moment
I don't want to talk about my day, or my feelings, or the
god
damned
weather.
I want to look into your eyes and see only raw lust,
ragged, seething desire.
I want to make you tremble.
I want you to carry me away
figuratively,
literally,
methodically.
I want your arms to wrap around me--pin me to a bed, a wall, a floor.
I want your knees on either side of my head,
or mine on either side of yours.
I want to wake the neighbors,
and after they look at each other, blushing, and feeling awkward, I want them to listen to our wails and fuck each other like the porn stars we are,
our shadows rocking against their garden wall, the echoes of me drowning out their own meager groans and moans and whimpers.
I want to see you smile up at me as I ride you hard, chasing down my second or third orgasm of a very
long
night.
I want to bend down when I see that smile and kiss you deeply, biting your bottom lip as I pull back to finish my ride.
head back, hair lightly brushing your thighs, neck exposed.
You let me reach my peak, cuz you're that kinda gentleman,
and then you lunge--
splaying me out and impaling me again, without pause.
No, take me from behind...
and when I look back at you with my evil little grin...
kiss me.
oh...to feel you there, needing me the way I need you...?
heaven.
yeah...
So I think the Poetry Friday Group Masturbation Word has to be "rock" or some variation thereof: rocking, rocked, rocky.
Becase rock n roll soothes my soul, and rocking bodies lights me on fire.
The rules are...
use the word in a poem, a story, a song, a prayer, a painting, a photograph--
any ole way you want to express yourself.
Thanks for inviting me, Mona, and...
thanks for inspiring me.
Happy Thursday, you horny ole toads, you!
p.s. whoever just tried to hack into my blog: FUCK OFF.
No half-dressed posting tonight.
Absolutely no half-expressed, half-bred, half-wit, half-n-half
posting
TO
NIGHT.
Fuck THAT.
Fuck mediocrity.
Fuck blandness.
Fuck boredom.
Fuck vanilla.
Fuck you.
Fuck...
yeah...you know what's next, baby.
Fuck
ME.
Hard, if ya don't mind.
Leave teeth marks, leave bruises.
Taste my sweat, smile at my tears,
wince as the claw marks down your back turn red.
At this particular moment
I don't want to talk about my day, or my feelings, or the
god
damned
weather.
I want to look into your eyes and see only raw lust,
ragged, seething desire.
I want to make you tremble.
I want you to carry me away
figuratively,
literally,
methodically.
I want your arms to wrap around me--pin me to a bed, a wall, a floor.
I want your knees on either side of my head,
or mine on either side of yours.
I want to wake the neighbors,
and after they look at each other, blushing, and feeling awkward, I want them to listen to our wails and fuck each other like the porn stars we are,
our shadows rocking against their garden wall, the echoes of me drowning out their own meager groans and moans and whimpers.
I want to see you smile up at me as I ride you hard, chasing down my second or third orgasm of a very
long
night.
I want to bend down when I see that smile and kiss you deeply, biting your bottom lip as I pull back to finish my ride.
head back, hair lightly brushing your thighs, neck exposed.
You let me reach my peak, cuz you're that kinda gentleman,
and then you lunge--
splaying me out and impaling me again, without pause.
No, take me from behind...
and when I look back at you with my evil little grin...
kiss me.
oh...to feel you there, needing me the way I need you...?
heaven.
yeah...
So I think the Poetry Friday Group Masturbation Word has to be "rock" or some variation thereof: rocking, rocked, rocky.
Becase rock n roll soothes my soul, and rocking bodies lights me on fire.
The rules are...
use the word in a poem, a story, a song, a prayer, a painting, a photograph--
any ole way you want to express yourself.
Thanks for inviting me, Mona, and...
thanks for inspiring me.
Happy Thursday, you horny ole toads, you!
p.s. whoever just tried to hack into my blog: FUCK OFF.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Stormy day
Stormy sky
Windy Rain--and don't you just love how the shitty camera makes my nose look BIGGER??
Twin A
It was a sunny day when we headed to the mini golf course.
We watched a storm hurtle toward us from the east mountains.
Oliver played a whirlwind round of golf--
more like he was a cowboy, wrangling his golf ball from hole to hole.
It was hilarious, and spirit-lifting.
The rain started slowly, in large warm drops,
then picked up density and speed.
The lightening was sprawling across the sky, almost horizontal in its reaching.
We finished our rounds, in no hurry at all.
Then went to Chili's for what the kids immediately dubbed, "slow food."
They're right: it isn't fast.
But it sure was tastier than their choice (McD's).
Then home, boys for a nap in order to be in good spirits for fireworks.
After tucking them into their beds, I returned to the kitchen.
I sidled up to Husband and said, "You should call me 'Cecelia'..." and smiled up at him, with my best attempt at bedroom eyes.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Cuz in about fiiive minutes, you're going to be making love to me, and it's technically 'the afternoon'."
He never did call me Ceclia, but we managed to work the rest of that in.
And out.
I also managed to allay my blood-curdling hatred of Angelina Jolie just long enough to enjoy "Mr. & Mrs. Smith".
The first half of it, at least--I got restless and needed to get back to work.
Good flick so far.
Happy Independence Day!
I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday, here in America.
The rest of you...well, I hope you have a safe and happy regular day.
Me? I will try to stop searching so hard for meaning in every eyelash, every freckle.
I will not feel discouraged and overwhelmed.
I will be all that I can be in the Army of this house.
I have tons of writing assignments, and nothing to say.
I think I'll have to rest my brain a bit.
Happy fireworks and BBQs, everyone!
The rest of you...well, I hope you have a safe and happy regular day.
Me? I will try to stop searching so hard for meaning in every eyelash, every freckle.
I will not feel discouraged and overwhelmed.
I will be all that I can be in the Army of this house.
I have tons of writing assignments, and nothing to say.
I think I'll have to rest my brain a bit.
Happy fireworks and BBQs, everyone!
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Story Time
I will never forget that night.
The smile on the sweet Chinese man's face, the movie-like quality of his accent as he pronounced me to be more suitable for you, "This one has heart."
His slightly drunk eyes twinkled and I wondered if you knew that he was right.
He showed you all the points on me where you could kill or temporarily disable a person.
Each time he poked, I squealed.
You liked that, and I think somewhere echoey inside, we both knew you would cause similar sounds to erupt from me later.
The sounds, the textures of that night were all foreshadowing, and I could feel it coming like a tidal wave.
But what I didn't know that was that they foretold the advent of harmony for my long-discordant soul.
I liked the way you shared my preference for conversation to the embarassing groping of the others.
I liked the way you smelled...same cologne as my first love.
The casual way that we slid onto your Harley was more foreshadowing--it was like deja vu that was so obviously real we didn't even call it deja vu.
We had done that before--or would do it again, countless times.
I remember the giddy feeling of taking off fast, and holding on tighter as we rounded corners.
I told you where to turn, gave you a route with open roads.
You didn't believe me...typical man, eh?...and we found ourselves in a sleeping neighborhood.
Laughing into the wind, you turned around and went my way; I was right.
You talked to me the whole time--on both great adventures of the night.
I put my head back and looked at the stars, a great joyous laugh leaping out of my throat before I hid my head behind yours, ducking the wind.
Living a dream sometimes feels better than small deaths--
such vibrance, such sharpness of cognizence.
Every nerve ending was open wide and swallowing down the sweetest drink of all time.
When we came to a stop, my cheeks were flushed and my hair was windblown--another mark that this was my destiny, as I wear it well.
Inside again, a pit stop.
You found me, then, and pressed me against a wall, lips so soft yet pressing so hard.
You stepped back, and I smiled, so breathless still from the ride.
I wanted more.
More of everything.
Hours later, a calm descended over me that could not be shaken.
The deepest longings of my soul had been filled up like an ice cube tray.
That sounds cheesy, doesn't it?
Maybe it all does.
But finding serenity on the back of a Harley isn't really supposed to be logical, anyway.
The end.
Ok, that was supposed to be fiction, and OBVIOUSLY part of it were.
It started out as fiction, but as soon as I said the "H" word, my own longings leapt in and took over for a moment.
Whatever.
I will buy my own damn bike someday.
This post was inspired by Mona's Word of the Day, which I usually just read in some jaw-gaping, awe-striken manner and in which I fail to participate.
This was not my best effort, but trust me when I tell you it's better than the soul rot below.
I will make a pact to do more fiction writing soon.
someday.
maybe.
The smile on the sweet Chinese man's face, the movie-like quality of his accent as he pronounced me to be more suitable for you, "This one has heart."
His slightly drunk eyes twinkled and I wondered if you knew that he was right.
He showed you all the points on me where you could kill or temporarily disable a person.
Each time he poked, I squealed.
You liked that, and I think somewhere echoey inside, we both knew you would cause similar sounds to erupt from me later.
The sounds, the textures of that night were all foreshadowing, and I could feel it coming like a tidal wave.
But what I didn't know that was that they foretold the advent of harmony for my long-discordant soul.
I liked the way you shared my preference for conversation to the embarassing groping of the others.
I liked the way you smelled...same cologne as my first love.
The casual way that we slid onto your Harley was more foreshadowing--it was like deja vu that was so obviously real we didn't even call it deja vu.
We had done that before--or would do it again, countless times.
I remember the giddy feeling of taking off fast, and holding on tighter as we rounded corners.
I told you where to turn, gave you a route with open roads.
You didn't believe me...typical man, eh?...and we found ourselves in a sleeping neighborhood.
Laughing into the wind, you turned around and went my way; I was right.
You talked to me the whole time--on both great adventures of the night.
I put my head back and looked at the stars, a great joyous laugh leaping out of my throat before I hid my head behind yours, ducking the wind.
Living a dream sometimes feels better than small deaths--
such vibrance, such sharpness of cognizence.
Every nerve ending was open wide and swallowing down the sweetest drink of all time.
When we came to a stop, my cheeks were flushed and my hair was windblown--another mark that this was my destiny, as I wear it well.
Inside again, a pit stop.
You found me, then, and pressed me against a wall, lips so soft yet pressing so hard.
You stepped back, and I smiled, so breathless still from the ride.
I wanted more.
More of everything.
Hours later, a calm descended over me that could not be shaken.
The deepest longings of my soul had been filled up like an ice cube tray.
That sounds cheesy, doesn't it?
Maybe it all does.
But finding serenity on the back of a Harley isn't really supposed to be logical, anyway.
The end.
Ok, that was supposed to be fiction, and OBVIOUSLY part of it were.
It started out as fiction, but as soon as I said the "H" word, my own longings leapt in and took over for a moment.
Whatever.
I will buy my own damn bike someday.
This post was inspired by Mona's Word of the Day, which I usually just read in some jaw-gaping, awe-striken manner and in which I fail to participate.
This was not my best effort, but trust me when I tell you it's better than the soul rot below.
I will make a pact to do more fiction writing soon.
someday.
maybe.
How does he do it?
Every time.
How does he do it over and over again, and forget my reaction, and do it again?
He CALLED ME out to the living room (or whatever the fuck that place with the projector is called) where he is hunkered down (and has been since we got home) playing, yeah, yeah, you guessed it: Warcraft--TO TELL ME HE LOVES ME.
That's it.
No concern for what I may or may not have been working on in my office.
No concern for the train of thought that the children usually destroy that he just destroyed.
No concern for the fact that my body is wrung out and trying to heal itself, but I've been as busy as a bee since we got home and I was FINA-fucking-LY sitting down to write.
And that was kind of cute, it was.
But then he launches into a discussion of "what are we going to do tomorrow?" and suggests that he take the kids to the pool so I can get some things done.
Also, very cute, very kind, etc.
But then he gets sucked back into using his brain for his game and I am left hanging, mid-sentence.
I sit patiently for a few minutes, then ask if we're done.
His glazed-eye voice says, "yeah," lacking inflection, lacking comprehension.
"No, we're NOT," I say, with obvious irritation, as nothing was settled.
"You're right."
More silence, but for the clashing of virtual weapons.
I walk to my office and turn to look at him.
"I am going to be writing, so don't bother me again."
I am such a bitch.
I hate being a bitch.
Do you know that my life revolves around his needs?
His wants?
Do you know that I make choices based on his preference before my own?
Do you know that I hate disappointing him or missing out on one second of time that he wants to spend with me?
Do you know that I love doing things for him, doing things with him?
These things may not surprise you, but I sometimes think they would surprise him.
I don't know.
He has told me before that he already has so much more than he ever expected out of life, that he can't spare a breath for wanting more.
I believe him.
Excelling at work comes naturally to him, so he moves onward and upward.
But all I want is to be adored.
I know I go on and on about all my wishes and dreams and needs on here, but...
the most important part of life to me is to be adored by someone I adore.
I am so sick of work and Warcraft coming ahead of me.
I am so sick of being ignored during times that those two occupiers aren't present.
I am so sick of pretending everything's perfect.
It's not perfect.
Nothing ever is.
Life IS good, it really is.
We communicate well for the most part.
I'm just tired.
And tired of feeling second best.
I should not have to compete with a game.
I knew it was trouble six months ago.
And I've been relatively patient with him, despite what you may think.
I should bury this post.
I should save it as a draft, or hit delete.
I don't know what I'll do with it, but I'll probably post it, since that's what I do here.
I do know that he brings out some really great qualities in me.
And that he provides me with the kind of stability I never dreamed I would have--and I don't mean financially, although that sure doesn't hurt.
I couldn't find my soul mate, so I grew my own.
It's kind of like with cultured pearls, though, something is lost.
Why am I not sitting in a bar on a damp wharf on a muggy-turned-cool night?
Why am I not hurtling through this world doing things my way?
Because I would rather be here.
I am just having one of those days, disregard my angst.
He hasn't even read one of my articles.
You guys care more than he does--
and if that didn't sound as goddamned whiney to you as it did to me, then you ought get your ears checked, or your whine-o-meter tuned.
Jesus.
I just realized that yesterday, though, and it was just another let down.
I can't keep telling him to notice me, to give a shit about me.
He is already caring as much as he can, and he can't even comprehend that there is more to be done.
Don't worry, it's nothing so dire.
I'm ok, he's ok, we're all bloody ok.
I just wanted to sulk.
And I'm hungry, which never helps much of anything.
I.
Don't.
KnowCareFeelHave....
And why is it that I expect passion from someone without any?
I am so grateful that he is who he is.
I need him to be who he is.
I need to write a story, something disconnected from me, something not real.
I need to stop trying to calm my fears with food.
I grow fatter.
I still love my body, and love it nude.
I still love food and exercise.
but it isn't "healthy" to fill needs with the wrong item.
Just breathe, Lisa.
Story to follow.
update: monday morning
It only got worse.
After I posted, I did some research for my upcoming articles and decided to check out the film festival thing.
The summaries had been posted, but...
not one of them was even remotely based on what I had written.
All that work, all that stress.
For.
Nothing.
I was pretty upset, even though I knew ahead of time that it might happen that way because of the head honcho's proclivity to wanting things his way.
So I was crying as I stepped out of my office and headed for bed.
Hubby asked what was wrong, so I gave him a chance...
I told him, briefly.
He gave a brief response and went silent again, sucked back into his game.
A heartbroken wife somehow did not trump a game.
I went to bed, and considered locking him out.
I didn't, and when he came up 30 minutes or so later, I refused to melt and accept his careless apology like I usually do.
I told him how awful it was when he walked through the kitchen after our first little encounter and began to apologize, but then said, "I gotta go smoke; I don't want to piss off the guys in my group." and he laughed and said, "I knew that was a bad move as soon as I said it."
yeah, funnnny.
I don't know what it's going to take for him to "get" it.
I will not keep spelling it out for him.
I did last night, though.
I told him exactly what the problem is and how his behavior makes me feel.
I told him that he can say he loves me all he wants, but ignoring me (even when the game's off) proves otherwise.
Today I will work out hard and let my tension break up and fall off me in chunks.
How does he do it over and over again, and forget my reaction, and do it again?
He CALLED ME out to the living room (or whatever the fuck that place with the projector is called) where he is hunkered down (and has been since we got home) playing, yeah, yeah, you guessed it: Warcraft--TO TELL ME HE LOVES ME.
That's it.
No concern for what I may or may not have been working on in my office.
No concern for the train of thought that the children usually destroy that he just destroyed.
No concern for the fact that my body is wrung out and trying to heal itself, but I've been as busy as a bee since we got home and I was FINA-fucking-LY sitting down to write.
And that was kind of cute, it was.
But then he launches into a discussion of "what are we going to do tomorrow?" and suggests that he take the kids to the pool so I can get some things done.
Also, very cute, very kind, etc.
But then he gets sucked back into using his brain for his game and I am left hanging, mid-sentence.
I sit patiently for a few minutes, then ask if we're done.
His glazed-eye voice says, "yeah," lacking inflection, lacking comprehension.
"No, we're NOT," I say, with obvious irritation, as nothing was settled.
"You're right."
More silence, but for the clashing of virtual weapons.
I walk to my office and turn to look at him.
"I am going to be writing, so don't bother me again."
I am such a bitch.
I hate being a bitch.
Do you know that my life revolves around his needs?
His wants?
Do you know that I make choices based on his preference before my own?
Do you know that I hate disappointing him or missing out on one second of time that he wants to spend with me?
Do you know that I love doing things for him, doing things with him?
These things may not surprise you, but I sometimes think they would surprise him.
I don't know.
He has told me before that he already has so much more than he ever expected out of life, that he can't spare a breath for wanting more.
I believe him.
Excelling at work comes naturally to him, so he moves onward and upward.
But all I want is to be adored.
I know I go on and on about all my wishes and dreams and needs on here, but...
the most important part of life to me is to be adored by someone I adore.
I am so sick of work and Warcraft coming ahead of me.
I am so sick of being ignored during times that those two occupiers aren't present.
I am so sick of pretending everything's perfect.
It's not perfect.
Nothing ever is.
Life IS good, it really is.
We communicate well for the most part.
I'm just tired.
And tired of feeling second best.
I should not have to compete with a game.
I knew it was trouble six months ago.
And I've been relatively patient with him, despite what you may think.
I should bury this post.
I should save it as a draft, or hit delete.
I don't know what I'll do with it, but I'll probably post it, since that's what I do here.
I do know that he brings out some really great qualities in me.
And that he provides me with the kind of stability I never dreamed I would have--and I don't mean financially, although that sure doesn't hurt.
I couldn't find my soul mate, so I grew my own.
It's kind of like with cultured pearls, though, something is lost.
Why am I not sitting in a bar on a damp wharf on a muggy-turned-cool night?
Why am I not hurtling through this world doing things my way?
Because I would rather be here.
I am just having one of those days, disregard my angst.
He hasn't even read one of my articles.
You guys care more than he does--
and if that didn't sound as goddamned whiney to you as it did to me, then you ought get your ears checked, or your whine-o-meter tuned.
Jesus.
I just realized that yesterday, though, and it was just another let down.
I can't keep telling him to notice me, to give a shit about me.
He is already caring as much as he can, and he can't even comprehend that there is more to be done.
Don't worry, it's nothing so dire.
I'm ok, he's ok, we're all bloody ok.
I just wanted to sulk.
And I'm hungry, which never helps much of anything.
I.
Don't.
KnowCareFeelHave....
And why is it that I expect passion from someone without any?
I am so grateful that he is who he is.
I need him to be who he is.
I need to write a story, something disconnected from me, something not real.
I need to stop trying to calm my fears with food.
I grow fatter.
I still love my body, and love it nude.
I still love food and exercise.
but it isn't "healthy" to fill needs with the wrong item.
Just breathe, Lisa.
Story to follow.
update: monday morning
It only got worse.
After I posted, I did some research for my upcoming articles and decided to check out the film festival thing.
The summaries had been posted, but...
not one of them was even remotely based on what I had written.
All that work, all that stress.
For.
Nothing.
I was pretty upset, even though I knew ahead of time that it might happen that way because of the head honcho's proclivity to wanting things his way.
So I was crying as I stepped out of my office and headed for bed.
Hubby asked what was wrong, so I gave him a chance...
I told him, briefly.
He gave a brief response and went silent again, sucked back into his game.
A heartbroken wife somehow did not trump a game.
I went to bed, and considered locking him out.
I didn't, and when he came up 30 minutes or so later, I refused to melt and accept his careless apology like I usually do.
I told him how awful it was when he walked through the kitchen after our first little encounter and began to apologize, but then said, "I gotta go smoke; I don't want to piss off the guys in my group." and he laughed and said, "I knew that was a bad move as soon as I said it."
yeah, funnnny.
I don't know what it's going to take for him to "get" it.
I will not keep spelling it out for him.
I did last night, though.
I told him exactly what the problem is and how his behavior makes me feel.
I told him that he can say he loves me all he wants, but ignoring me (even when the game's off) proves otherwise.
Today I will work out hard and let my tension break up and fall off me in chunks.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Ok, enough!
I can't stand the thought of that post staying up for long.
I'll only add:
I shopped at a store called "Wizz"!!!
Ok.
So we made it to "Antony and Cleopatra" last night.
If you haven't read it, I would strongly urge you to do so.
Talk about passionate love!
Wow.
I'm just in awe.
And not at all in the mood to write.
But I did get some great notes, and really enjoyed the play.
I also ran into the other Utah blogger into whom I have run one other time.
(how'd ya like THAT sentence structure??)
He was with his beautiful wife and their good friend/her co-worker, and they were sititng somewhere right behind us (I think).
Crazy damn small world.
They just walked right past our seats, and he and I kind of did double takes and he, once again, was the one who spoke.
We had brief introductions, but the play was about to start, so they moved along.
It was odd...I was once again unsure of what to say--
even though I half-expected to see them there, and even though he is not a stranger anymore.
Well, I'll just blame my loooooooong day for my fried brain.
But I think what is more likely is that I am much more shy than I'd like any of you to believe.
Don't ask Becky, Justin, Orange, or Whitey.
They will lie and say I'm very outgoing.
They may also lie and say I'm very fat.
Or lie and say that I'm not...
Uh.
I think I'm going to stop talking about how many bloggers I've met.
Hey, do any of you live in Austin?
Or do you know if it's a cool place to live?
Don't get your panties in a twist, but it's a definite possibility at this point.
I have started poking around on-line and it looks pretty nice.
They have great real estate, but I don't know which area is best.
We can get a house of similar size/quality but with a POOL for about 75% of what we can sell our current home for.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Sounds good to me.
No counting chickens yet, though, the eggs haven't even been LAID, fer chrissakes.
Just wondering.
So, any feedback is welcome.
Unless it's negative.
har.
Now, don't beat me with a hammer or anything, but I will definitely miss Utah if we leave.
My friends and the mountains, obviously.
NOT the specific religious overdose--don't even say it.
I already know that Texas has a lot of religion, too.
Don't say a word.
I can promise you that it will not bother me in the least.
And if it does, it'll be sort of a bemused, outsider's perception of something quirky and/or irritating.
Being in Utah, though...it's like a 24/7 reminder that I'm not good enough.
Texas, man.
TEXAS.
Wow.
It would be a whole fresh start.
The two main sucks would be: no babysitters, and no friends.
Anyway...it's pretty much up to us.
If we want to move there, we can.
If we don't, we don't have to.
Mr. husband happens to think it will be a really smart career move,
and little Mrs. Me happens to think it would be
fantastic
wonderful
amazing
a huge relief
to get the kids out of Utah before they get turned into mini-mormons against my will.
For as much as I crave adventure (another word for "change in small doses")...
big things like this scare me a little.
I would be so friggggging far from everybody I know.
No closer to Maine.
I don't know...
I've always kind of said that if we're going to move, I want it to be AT LEAST in an eastern direction.
Texas is so goddamned hot.
And hubby said the ocean is ugly.
UGLY.
....oh, my heart!
You have no idea how that breaks my heart...
it's like...
yearning for canoli for 13 years, and then finally someone telling you you're moving to a cream horn factory.
(I do love me some cream horns, though! Oh, and funnel cakes...god bless IHOP...)
Anyway.
I guess MY panties are in a bit of a twist.
Something to think about, for sure.
I don't know.
Austin?
With nobody to play with???
And no one to babysit so that at least I can play with myself?
(yes, I saw that coming and wrote it that way on purpose...)
My friends will KILL me.
Dead.
And I'll miss my brothers, and my husband's brothers.
I think I better stop talking about this like it's a done deal.
Ok, so rah-rah, Shakespeare!!
In about 20 minutes we're leaving for the next play.
A fabulous little farce called "Room Service".
I can't wait!!
And I can't wait to put the article together.
Sorry for the crappy post.
After yesterday's piss-poor post, I should be truly ashamed.
heeeeeeeeee!!
edit: added at 6:31pm
Thanks for the Austin input so far--keep it coming!
I have ONE reservation about moving...
how in the HELL will I survive without Utah to complain about??
Also, we again ran into the Utah blogger, and this time we were able to chat for a few minutes.
And my husband thinks his wife is hot.
(he's right).
I love meeting new people.
So Austin should work out fine...right?
EEk.
Chickens. Eggs. How 'bout a nest??
I'll only add:
I shopped at a store called "Wizz"!!!
Ok.
So we made it to "Antony and Cleopatra" last night.
If you haven't read it, I would strongly urge you to do so.
Talk about passionate love!
Wow.
I'm just in awe.
And not at all in the mood to write.
But I did get some great notes, and really enjoyed the play.
I also ran into the other Utah blogger into whom I have run one other time.
(how'd ya like THAT sentence structure??)
He was with his beautiful wife and their good friend/her co-worker, and they were sititng somewhere right behind us (I think).
Crazy damn small world.
They just walked right past our seats, and he and I kind of did double takes and he, once again, was the one who spoke.
We had brief introductions, but the play was about to start, so they moved along.
It was odd...I was once again unsure of what to say--
even though I half-expected to see them there, and even though he is not a stranger anymore.
Well, I'll just blame my loooooooong day for my fried brain.
But I think what is more likely is that I am much more shy than I'd like any of you to believe.
Don't ask Becky, Justin, Orange, or Whitey.
They will lie and say I'm very outgoing.
They may also lie and say I'm very fat.
Or lie and say that I'm not...
Uh.
I think I'm going to stop talking about how many bloggers I've met.
Hey, do any of you live in Austin?
Or do you know if it's a cool place to live?
Don't get your panties in a twist, but it's a definite possibility at this point.
I have started poking around on-line and it looks pretty nice.
They have great real estate, but I don't know which area is best.
We can get a house of similar size/quality but with a POOL for about 75% of what we can sell our current home for.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Sounds good to me.
No counting chickens yet, though, the eggs haven't even been LAID, fer chrissakes.
Just wondering.
So, any feedback is welcome.
Unless it's negative.
har.
Now, don't beat me with a hammer or anything, but I will definitely miss Utah if we leave.
My friends and the mountains, obviously.
NOT the specific religious overdose--don't even say it.
I already know that Texas has a lot of religion, too.
Don't say a word.
I can promise you that it will not bother me in the least.
And if it does, it'll be sort of a bemused, outsider's perception of something quirky and/or irritating.
Being in Utah, though...it's like a 24/7 reminder that I'm not good enough.
Texas, man.
TEXAS.
Wow.
It would be a whole fresh start.
The two main sucks would be: no babysitters, and no friends.
Anyway...it's pretty much up to us.
If we want to move there, we can.
If we don't, we don't have to.
Mr. husband happens to think it will be a really smart career move,
and little Mrs. Me happens to think it would be
fantastic
wonderful
amazing
a huge relief
to get the kids out of Utah before they get turned into mini-mormons against my will.
For as much as I crave adventure (another word for "change in small doses")...
big things like this scare me a little.
I would be so friggggging far from everybody I know.
No closer to Maine.
I don't know...
I've always kind of said that if we're going to move, I want it to be AT LEAST in an eastern direction.
Texas is so goddamned hot.
And hubby said the ocean is ugly.
UGLY.
....oh, my heart!
You have no idea how that breaks my heart...
it's like...
yearning for canoli for 13 years, and then finally someone telling you you're moving to a cream horn factory.
(I do love me some cream horns, though! Oh, and funnel cakes...god bless IHOP...)
Anyway.
I guess MY panties are in a bit of a twist.
Something to think about, for sure.
I don't know.
Austin?
With nobody to play with???
And no one to babysit so that at least I can play with myself?
(yes, I saw that coming and wrote it that way on purpose...)
My friends will KILL me.
Dead.
And I'll miss my brothers, and my husband's brothers.
I think I better stop talking about this like it's a done deal.
Ok, so rah-rah, Shakespeare!!
In about 20 minutes we're leaving for the next play.
A fabulous little farce called "Room Service".
I can't wait!!
And I can't wait to put the article together.
Sorry for the crappy post.
After yesterday's piss-poor post, I should be truly ashamed.
heeeeeeeeee!!
edit: added at 6:31pm
Thanks for the Austin input so far--keep it coming!
I have ONE reservation about moving...
how in the HELL will I survive without Utah to complain about??
Also, we again ran into the Utah blogger, and this time we were able to chat for a few minutes.
And my husband thinks his wife is hot.
(he's right).
I love meeting new people.
So Austin should work out fine...right?
EEk.
Chickens. Eggs. How 'bout a nest??
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