Or like Ed needs Sophia.
Well.
So today was my first day of complete freedom.
And it feels daaaaaaaaaaamn good.
I lolled about in bed, reading Robert Browning and watching "Dogma".
I made french toast and eggs for my husband.
I watched a lot of music videos...I forgot how much I love them!
Today my History textbook arrived; the one for the course I will not be able to finish on time unless I turn on one assignment each week starting now.
Stupid, STUPID Lisa.
The last minute is the best minute, right?
I have been feeling scattered and unmotivated for the past week or so,
and that is beginning to change.
Had a good talk with hubby last night.
A talk about my newspaper commitments...
I think I've gotten past my anxiety there, or at least the bulk of it, but...
I am still a little fearful.
I think I'll take to interviewing like a duck to water, but for now it is the great unknown
so
therefore
it scares me.
He gave me lots of great advice.
Now if only I could remember it all...
I also need to force some structure on myself, or my "free" days will turn into wasted days.
Aren't you glad you stopped by???
I'm just a laugh a line over here!
A thrill a minute.
Eh.
I'm getting my groove back, a note at a time.
Two steps forward, one step back.
Somethin' like that.
Or maybe it was never really here...
a figment of my imagination.
I feel like I am fighting my way out from under a heavy blanket...
depression creeps in.
But I will tell it to fuck off.
And it will.
I hope.
I love how soft and springy my curls are when they're almost dry from my shower.
I love how smooth my skin is after a luxurious coating of lotion.
I am freezing in my house.
I am overdosing on strawberry-rhubarb pie and vanilla ice cream...
I have had a headache for days and days and days.
Yesterday I thought it was leaking out of my head and invading other parts of my body.
Friends are moving on Saturday; will be closer to us--yaaay!
hoping to talk hubby into a one nighter in Moab with the kiddos...
Would be good.
For all of us.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
What the fuck???
I actually made an audiopost with some goddamned MEANING and it didn't post.
Figures.
I got caught in the traffic o' Presidential visit this morning.
Why am I so stupid??
I do not know.
I sat at one, unchanging red light for 9 minutes.
I was on the verge of panic.
It felt very claustrophic, not to mention the late-for-class factor.
Fluck.
(yes, that's a new word. It heralds the correlation between "fuck" and "luck". It should really have a positive connotation, though, don't you think?)
Classes were good.
Parking was eeee-ville.
Hubby is cute, and trying really hard to make sure I do not feel ignored...
I am so hungry I could gnaw my arm off.
So why the hell am I HERE???
Well.
I had to pee before shopping and gyming.
Yes, that's a word.
Fuck off.
Today I think I'll be here when my kids get home.
'magine that.
Happy Tuesday.
Oh!
I may have pictures soon.
Cables, cables.
(thanks, for the tip, you.)
Figures.
I got caught in the traffic o' Presidential visit this morning.
Why am I so stupid??
I do not know.
I sat at one, unchanging red light for 9 minutes.
I was on the verge of panic.
It felt very claustrophic, not to mention the late-for-class factor.
Fluck.
(yes, that's a new word. It heralds the correlation between "fuck" and "luck". It should really have a positive connotation, though, don't you think?)
Classes were good.
Parking was eeee-ville.
Hubby is cute, and trying really hard to make sure I do not feel ignored...
I am so hungry I could gnaw my arm off.
So why the hell am I HERE???
Well.
I had to pee before shopping and gyming.
Yes, that's a word.
Fuck off.
Today I think I'll be here when my kids get home.
'magine that.
Happy Tuesday.
Oh!
I may have pictures soon.
Cables, cables.
(thanks, for the tip, you.)
Monday, August 28, 2006
It's a great day to be around
Happy 8 year anniversary to Mr. Bored Housewife!
(a reprint of last year's post)
yes, it's a digital picture of a snapshot...
I don't have a scanner, ok???
and these are the shoes I wore that day, to come so close to his 6' 3"...
It was a beautiful day, a happy day.
we were supposed to get married on a Schooner in Camden harbor...
but I decided to worry about a hurricaine the almanac had predicted for that week.
stupid girl.
so we got married in a beautiful garden behind the marriott where we had the reception.
it was lovely, but not the same.
AND.
the stupid florist got my bouquet all wrong.
I said no roses.
I said no long traily thing--just a BUNCH, a simple, bouquet.
oh well.
at least I found the perfect shoes, right?
...oh, and the perfect groom.
**********
Today I stopped holding my breath over the question of whether or not the school bus would be running this year.
IT CAME!!!
See, here in suburban-hell, there are like 18 elementary schools in a one mile radius of here.
So there are not very many school bus runs.
Somehow, we scored one, and the stop is right next to our house.
This is such a beautiful thing.
I can't even express the depth of my joy...
The boys seem to grasp the urgency of not missing the bus,
whereas they have no respect at all for my pleas of, "Hurry! We're late!" if I'm driving them.
Not to mention I don't have to fight the crowds of other parents picking up kids--
AND it buys me an extra 15 minutes or so (I don't know what time it drops them off yet).
Praise Jesus and his eight tiny reindeer!
Now I have 2 hours left and I can't decide if I should go grab some groceries, hit the gym, or simply loll about and feel lazy!!!
What a beautiful, geometrically perfect day.
...oh, and I think I'm going to stick with my Astronomy class, so grab your earplugs.
It's going to be a whiney few months!
Happy day to all of you.
(a reprint of last year's post)
yes, it's a digital picture of a snapshot...
I don't have a scanner, ok???
and these are the shoes I wore that day, to come so close to his 6' 3"...
It was a beautiful day, a happy day.
we were supposed to get married on a Schooner in Camden harbor...
but I decided to worry about a hurricaine the almanac had predicted for that week.
stupid girl.
so we got married in a beautiful garden behind the marriott where we had the reception.
it was lovely, but not the same.
AND.
the stupid florist got my bouquet all wrong.
I said no roses.
I said no long traily thing--just a BUNCH, a simple, bouquet.
oh well.
at least I found the perfect shoes, right?
...oh, and the perfect groom.
**********
Today I stopped holding my breath over the question of whether or not the school bus would be running this year.
IT CAME!!!
See, here in suburban-hell, there are like 18 elementary schools in a one mile radius of here.
So there are not very many school bus runs.
Somehow, we scored one, and the stop is right next to our house.
This is such a beautiful thing.
I can't even express the depth of my joy...
The boys seem to grasp the urgency of not missing the bus,
whereas they have no respect at all for my pleas of, "Hurry! We're late!" if I'm driving them.
Not to mention I don't have to fight the crowds of other parents picking up kids--
AND it buys me an extra 15 minutes or so (I don't know what time it drops them off yet).
Praise Jesus and his eight tiny reindeer!
Now I have 2 hours left and I can't decide if I should go grab some groceries, hit the gym, or simply loll about and feel lazy!!!
What a beautiful, geometrically perfect day.
...oh, and I think I'm going to stick with my Astronomy class, so grab your earplugs.
It's going to be a whiney few months!
Happy day to all of you.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Krispy Kremes are neither crispy, nor creamy--discuss
Ok, so some of them have cream fillings, but the donuts themselves are not technically what I would consider "creamy".
And if you ever see a crispy donut?? Please don't eat it!
Today was crisp, though.
Dammit, I hate unintentional segues.
Not as much as I hate unintentional Segways...
Ahem.
Tomorrow marks the day that my husband and I have been married for 8 years.
Pretty damn cool.
The kids start school, so we'll have the day to ourselves.
He has a few conference calls in the morning and an evening flight, so we're going to do lunch.
Hawaii was technically our anniversary trip, but I hate for the day to pass without being acknowledge.
I sort of just realized yesterday that I still have to get him a present!
Criminy. What the fucking hell do you get for the man who earns all the money you could spend???
It's an odd sensation.
Besides which, I don't have any
frigging
clue what he needs or wants.
Aside from some fucking golf club, but I'll be damned if I've been paying attention.
I think he's planning to get a whole new set soon.
But I don't frigging remember.
I got stung by a hornet or a wasp or something today.
Just sitting at the gas station, with my window down.
J. was filling up, on our way up the mountain for a hike with the kids and dog.
We make the coolest lesbian family; oh, if only we liked each other "that way"!
(sorry...just a private joke: we've been on trips together, dating back to the early 90s and have been asked "one bed or two?" on more occasions than we care to admit. We also used to get propositioned for 3-somes, back when we were Mormon-virgin girls. bah. What a frickin waste!!)
Ahem.
Ok.
Anyway, I didn't even see the sting-y thing until I felt it.
The sting didn't hurt but it wasn't too pleasant for the next few minutes.
Thank god I had a bottle of ice water to put on it.
I haven't been stung since I was a kid, and have actually fancied myself a bit of a bee charmer.
If there is a bee in the house, I let it crawl onto my hand and I carry it outside.
I do this quite often, and have never been stung.
Bah.
Stupid bees.
I am beyond stressed.
School starting, hard class, homework, heightened responsiblity at the newspaper, lingering family "stuff" from the hideous, dream-like occurence of 15 days ago, and general worries.
Too much change.
Hubby thinks we're moving to Kansas City, now.
Why do I tell you this?
Because I'm hoping to jinx the plan.
I figure, it worked for Texas, why not?
Eh.
We'll see.
I hope I don't forget anything important for my boys' first day of school.
They are going to have so much fun.
I am going to weep with joy.
And then go shopping for some unknown spectacular anniversary gift for the best husband on the planet.
And.
Do homework.
Anyone have some headache pills???
(I feel like a whiner, just for the record. But the cool thing is that I have been returning to myself lately...a self that none of you has ever known. a self that is...self-less, coincidentally. I love people, and I love helping them. Life is good.)
And if you ever see a crispy donut?? Please don't eat it!
Today was crisp, though.
Dammit, I hate unintentional segues.
Not as much as I hate unintentional Segways...
Ahem.
Tomorrow marks the day that my husband and I have been married for 8 years.
Pretty damn cool.
The kids start school, so we'll have the day to ourselves.
He has a few conference calls in the morning and an evening flight, so we're going to do lunch.
Hawaii was technically our anniversary trip, but I hate for the day to pass without being acknowledge.
I sort of just realized yesterday that I still have to get him a present!
Criminy. What the fucking hell do you get for the man who earns all the money you could spend???
It's an odd sensation.
Besides which, I don't have any
frigging
clue what he needs or wants.
Aside from some fucking golf club, but I'll be damned if I've been paying attention.
I think he's planning to get a whole new set soon.
But I don't frigging remember.
I got stung by a hornet or a wasp or something today.
Just sitting at the gas station, with my window down.
J. was filling up, on our way up the mountain for a hike with the kids and dog.
We make the coolest lesbian family; oh, if only we liked each other "that way"!
(sorry...just a private joke: we've been on trips together, dating back to the early 90s and have been asked "one bed or two?" on more occasions than we care to admit. We also used to get propositioned for 3-somes, back when we were Mormon-virgin girls. bah. What a frickin waste!!)
Ahem.
Ok.
Anyway, I didn't even see the sting-y thing until I felt it.
The sting didn't hurt but it wasn't too pleasant for the next few minutes.
Thank god I had a bottle of ice water to put on it.
I haven't been stung since I was a kid, and have actually fancied myself a bit of a bee charmer.
If there is a bee in the house, I let it crawl onto my hand and I carry it outside.
I do this quite often, and have never been stung.
Bah.
Stupid bees.
I am beyond stressed.
School starting, hard class, homework, heightened responsiblity at the newspaper, lingering family "stuff" from the hideous, dream-like occurence of 15 days ago, and general worries.
Too much change.
Hubby thinks we're moving to Kansas City, now.
Why do I tell you this?
Because I'm hoping to jinx the plan.
I figure, it worked for Texas, why not?
Eh.
We'll see.
I hope I don't forget anything important for my boys' first day of school.
They are going to have so much fun.
I am going to weep with joy.
And then go shopping for some unknown spectacular anniversary gift for the best husband on the planet.
And.
Do homework.
Anyone have some headache pills???
(I feel like a whiner, just for the record. But the cool thing is that I have been returning to myself lately...a self that none of you has ever known. a self that is...self-less, coincidentally. I love people, and I love helping them. Life is good.)
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Last night
I composed in my head a lovely blog post, and the start of a story.
Fuck if I can remember 'em though.
I just need to give in, and go live alone and be that crazy artist chick that everyone's a little afraid of.
It would be so much easier.
Then I could sit bolt upright and dash for my laptop in the middle of the night without my husband acting all suspicious and/or interupting my train of thought with his (perfectly reasonable) stupid questions!!
So, instead, I lie awake and spin tales which are lost forever.
Oh well.
As we've learned, through trial and error (but mostly error), my thoughts have a short shelf-life.
If I try to write somethnig down which sounded brilliant in my head only moments before,
I usually end up with Grade A turkey poo.
Or Grade F mouse poo...
Anyway, you get the point.
Today I am off to lunch and a movie with some good girl friends.
There is too much drama in their lives;
I feel sad for this and hope it abates soon.
I am wearing new shoes,
and may have actually uttered the phrase, "I think these shoes make me look fat."
I belong in the Whiney Women Hall of Fame, don't I?
Oh well.
They do!
But I'm wearing them anyway.
If you can't be fat and be ok with LOOKING fat, then--
er.
...diet?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Piss.
I hate that part.
nah, I look pretty good.
But I have very small feet and I'm used to wearing very big shoes.
It's all about symmetry and balance--
small feet make big parts look bigger, right?
Well.
Whatev.
I'm going to have a fun day.
I hope you do, too.
Fuck if I can remember 'em though.
I just need to give in, and go live alone and be that crazy artist chick that everyone's a little afraid of.
It would be so much easier.
Then I could sit bolt upright and dash for my laptop in the middle of the night without my husband acting all suspicious and/or interupting my train of thought with his (perfectly reasonable) stupid questions!!
So, instead, I lie awake and spin tales which are lost forever.
Oh well.
As we've learned, through trial and error (but mostly error), my thoughts have a short shelf-life.
If I try to write somethnig down which sounded brilliant in my head only moments before,
I usually end up with Grade A turkey poo.
Or Grade F mouse poo...
Anyway, you get the point.
Today I am off to lunch and a movie with some good girl friends.
There is too much drama in their lives;
I feel sad for this and hope it abates soon.
I am wearing new shoes,
and may have actually uttered the phrase, "I think these shoes make me look fat."
I belong in the Whiney Women Hall of Fame, don't I?
Oh well.
They do!
But I'm wearing them anyway.
If you can't be fat and be ok with LOOKING fat, then--
er.
...diet?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Piss.
I hate that part.
nah, I look pretty good.
But I have very small feet and I'm used to wearing very big shoes.
It's all about symmetry and balance--
small feet make big parts look bigger, right?
Well.
Whatev.
I'm going to have a fun day.
I hope you do, too.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Cro-Magnon Blogging
In which I transpose penned words from lulls in my non-computerized day.
8-24
Class is not starting yet.
Too many girls.
Everyone
so
young.
That guy looks familiar.
That girl is part of the play for which I need to garner interviews for my preview piece.
--wow, that last sentence was---
awkward, at best.
Coherant, in its wildest, steamiest, most technicolorful dreams!
(and then a man introduced himself as "Not Professor Whatever-the-fuck"...can't remember his name. Anyway, he said our professor was doing a triathalon today and would be with us next time. He then instructed us to go to the department website and take a test to see if we can handle the class...GULP. I don't like the sound of that. Astrology--I wish! Physics is so totally not my bag, baby.)
And now I'm on to English.
A couple of familiar faces...
One straight out of a fantasy
And another straight out of--
my last English class.
Ha.
I am shiny.
Want to blot my face.
Ok, not so pretty as "shiny" implies--
red-faced and sweat
eeeee.
Must
find
something to wipe my face.
Hands won't do.
Shirt?
Too tank-y.
Strike the adjective-maker.
And the "too".
It IS a tank.
Ah, now I'm cooling off.
So many people who know each other...
This classroom has been double-booked.
Sorting.
My first class only lasted 63 seconds.
Ok, possibly it was more like 64.
BUT.
That's my absolute highest limit.
And now we're taking roll.
Role?
Hm.
I'm mostly amazed at how many people go by completely unrelated names to the ones on the roll (role).
But hey.
Perogatives, etc.
Ok, that's the end of my notebook ramblings.
I started writing the review for a restaurant I haven't visited yet...
but I read about it, and I'm sure this will reflect my reaction!!
Shut it.
I also scored an interview with the theatre student I overheard, in my first class.
See, as you may recall, the class was rather rudely...
truncated.
curtailed.
abbreviated.
Shortened.
So as we were all packing our things, I asked her about the play and told her who I was.
She confirmed that she is in the play and was somewhere between willing and enthusiastic to give me an interview.
I explained that I wasn't really prepared for it, so I would rather schedule a future date, but then we just went for it anyway.
I got her number, in case I have follow-up questions, and I got the number of the lead actress so I can get an interview with her.
Oh, my editor will be so proud!!
I saw him right after that, but he was talking to someone so I didn't want to bother him.
Oh, the theatre student wanted to know if we needed more writers, too.
I would kind of like her help with this whole preview business, I mean, what the fuck do I know about theatre???
Nothing, that's what.
She wrote for her high school paper, and loved it, so it's not really a stretch.
Ok.
Happy first day of class to me.
I'll let you know how that test goes...
eek.
AND.
I just discovered that my Independent Study History class that I "started" last January and is due in precisely 6 weeks (with 5 assignments, each due no closer than 7 day intervals...) is missnig half of the textbook.
They sent it to me and I never looked that closely, butthey only sent volume 2 and the assignments start with volume 1.
Fuck me.
Time to get that extension.
And remind me to NEVER do Independent Study again. :)
NEWSFLASH!!!!!!!!!
I am speechless.
(no, that's not the announcement, although it's pretty big news, I know.)
There are no words to describe the way this makes me feel.
I just.
Poor Pluto!!!
8-24
Class is not starting yet.
Too many girls.
Everyone
so
young.
That guy looks familiar.
That girl is part of the play for which I need to garner interviews for my preview piece.
--wow, that last sentence was---
awkward, at best.
Coherant, in its wildest, steamiest, most technicolorful dreams!
(and then a man introduced himself as "Not Professor Whatever-the-fuck"...can't remember his name. Anyway, he said our professor was doing a triathalon today and would be with us next time. He then instructed us to go to the department website and take a test to see if we can handle the class...GULP. I don't like the sound of that. Astrology--I wish! Physics is so totally not my bag, baby.)
And now I'm on to English.
A couple of familiar faces...
One straight out of a fantasy
And another straight out of--
my last English class.
Ha.
I am shiny.
Want to blot my face.
Ok, not so pretty as "shiny" implies--
red-faced and sweat
eeeee.
Must
find
something to wipe my face.
Hands won't do.
Shirt?
Too tank-y.
Strike the adjective-maker.
And the "too".
It IS a tank.
Ah, now I'm cooling off.
So many people who know each other...
This classroom has been double-booked.
Sorting.
My first class only lasted 63 seconds.
Ok, possibly it was more like 64.
BUT.
That's my absolute highest limit.
And now we're taking roll.
Role?
Hm.
I'm mostly amazed at how many people go by completely unrelated names to the ones on the roll (role).
But hey.
Perogatives, etc.
Ok, that's the end of my notebook ramblings.
I started writing the review for a restaurant I haven't visited yet...
but I read about it, and I'm sure this will reflect my reaction!!
Shut it.
I also scored an interview with the theatre student I overheard, in my first class.
See, as you may recall, the class was rather rudely...
truncated.
curtailed.
abbreviated.
Shortened.
So as we were all packing our things, I asked her about the play and told her who I was.
She confirmed that she is in the play and was somewhere between willing and enthusiastic to give me an interview.
I explained that I wasn't really prepared for it, so I would rather schedule a future date, but then we just went for it anyway.
I got her number, in case I have follow-up questions, and I got the number of the lead actress so I can get an interview with her.
Oh, my editor will be so proud!!
I saw him right after that, but he was talking to someone so I didn't want to bother him.
Oh, the theatre student wanted to know if we needed more writers, too.
I would kind of like her help with this whole preview business, I mean, what the fuck do I know about theatre???
Nothing, that's what.
She wrote for her high school paper, and loved it, so it's not really a stretch.
Ok.
Happy first day of class to me.
I'll let you know how that test goes...
eek.
AND.
I just discovered that my Independent Study History class that I "started" last January and is due in precisely 6 weeks (with 5 assignments, each due no closer than 7 day intervals...) is missnig half of the textbook.
They sent it to me and I never looked that closely, butthey only sent volume 2 and the assignments start with volume 1.
Fuck me.
Time to get that extension.
And remind me to NEVER do Independent Study again. :)
NEWSFLASH!!!!!!!!!
I am speechless.
(no, that's not the announcement, although it's pretty big news, I know.)
There are no words to describe the way this makes me feel.
I just.
Poor Pluto!!!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Cluster fuck, anyone?
And while we're on the subject, why does that sound like a chocolate and nut treat to me??
Ok, so it wasn't that bad, but today was full of minor cluster fuckage.
No chafing or anything, but jesus.
I got pretty much everything on my pretty long list accomplished, so I can't really complain.
...and yet, here I am.
Complaining.
Ah, well.
C'est la vie.
Picked up my books and opted not to wait in the 43 mile long line for a new parking pass.
I have another week before mine runs out, so I think I'll just keep my eye on things.
I found one of my buildings today...
it's on the very northern edge of campus, nearly all the way west.
I couldn't find any parking lots, so I'm not sure what I'll do.
I also bought two very hip, very comfortable pairs of shoes.
And some new sunglasses and a grrrrr-ate Lion (izod-esque) shirt.
Yes....I did the growly "great" on purpose.
To go with the "Lion" thing.
I know...
I'm so damn clever I can hardly stand it, too.
It's ok.
Anyway...
I also spoke to my children's school principal.
We agreed on a compromise: they will be allowed to eat lunch together.
I am still slightly agitated that they are not going to be in the same home room,
and I wish I knew where they will be placed as far as Math and Reading.
I guess it doesn't matter.
They'll be fine.
I just.
I just.
I just!!!!!!
Siiiigh.
I just want them to be happy and confident and not shy and not scared and not anxious.
They are used to being together
ALL.
THE.
TIME.
And I'm afraid it will affect their ability to learn.
Fuck.
I am freaking out again.
If one of them is in a "lower" math or reading class than the other, I can see how that might be a problem.
But I don't think they are.
And I hate the thought of them having to line up in the morning to file into separate classrooms.
And to line up for lunches and recesses without each other.
Feel free to tell me that you think it's healthier for them to be separate.
I will feel free to tell you to fuck off.
I know my children.
We are very relaxed and go-with-the-flow-y around here.
But they should be together.
Fuck.
I'll talk to hubby when he gets home.
Maybe we can still change it.
I'm such a pussy.
(yes, yes, you are what you eat. har. har. HAR. No, I haven't, you dirty birds.)
Ok.
Wow, enough of that rant!
Sorry.
I called a friend today.
A friend who was out of town when our family was shaken up last week, burying a grandmother.
Sadness, sadness all around.
I don't dare to wonder what my 3 will be.
Bad things come in threes, you know.
My friend did a beautiful job on my hair today.
He is really talented.
He taught me a new trick--
something that takes a lot of work, and I will NEVER do on a daily basis,
but could be fun for the occasional night out.
I will never understand how women can spend that much time on their hair daily.
Blows my mind.
Wouldn't you rather SLEEP???
I would.
So the good news is: I took some Braless Tuesday pictures.
The bad news is: I haven't uploaded them yet, and I don't know when I will.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe
NOT.
heh.
I wish the world was smaller, and had fewer rules.
I wish I could turn into a bird and fly over land and sea--
so much sea.
And landing, turn back into the sultry little thing that I am,
and slip in through a door, fortuitously left unlocked.
I would exhale over you like a sheet of the finest silk, and wrap you gently to me.
You would flutter awake, eyes still foggy with dreams of me, but your smile would tell me you knew I was real.
I want my hands to learn the hard and smooth and hairy surfaces of your body--
sending reports like love letters to my brain.
I want to feel your breath in my ear as you whisper the things I know you would say.
I want to kiss you--
anywhere, everywhere.
Your mouth belongs with mine.
I want to feel your arms as they draw me to you;
strong arms, sure arms.
"Want in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up faster."
That's what my mama used to say.
Happy day to you all, whatever the fuck day it is when you read this.
Ok, so it wasn't that bad, but today was full of minor cluster fuckage.
No chafing or anything, but jesus.
I got pretty much everything on my pretty long list accomplished, so I can't really complain.
...and yet, here I am.
Complaining.
Ah, well.
C'est la vie.
Picked up my books and opted not to wait in the 43 mile long line for a new parking pass.
I have another week before mine runs out, so I think I'll just keep my eye on things.
I found one of my buildings today...
it's on the very northern edge of campus, nearly all the way west.
I couldn't find any parking lots, so I'm not sure what I'll do.
I also bought two very hip, very comfortable pairs of shoes.
And some new sunglasses and a grrrrr-ate Lion (izod-esque) shirt.
Yes....I did the growly "great" on purpose.
To go with the "Lion" thing.
I know...
I'm so damn clever I can hardly stand it, too.
It's ok.
Anyway...
I also spoke to my children's school principal.
We agreed on a compromise: they will be allowed to eat lunch together.
I am still slightly agitated that they are not going to be in the same home room,
and I wish I knew where they will be placed as far as Math and Reading.
I guess it doesn't matter.
They'll be fine.
I just.
I just.
I just!!!!!!
Siiiigh.
I just want them to be happy and confident and not shy and not scared and not anxious.
They are used to being together
ALL.
THE.
TIME.
And I'm afraid it will affect their ability to learn.
Fuck.
I am freaking out again.
If one of them is in a "lower" math or reading class than the other, I can see how that might be a problem.
But I don't think they are.
And I hate the thought of them having to line up in the morning to file into separate classrooms.
And to line up for lunches and recesses without each other.
Feel free to tell me that you think it's healthier for them to be separate.
I will feel free to tell you to fuck off.
I know my children.
We are very relaxed and go-with-the-flow-y around here.
But they should be together.
Fuck.
I'll talk to hubby when he gets home.
Maybe we can still change it.
I'm such a pussy.
(yes, yes, you are what you eat. har. har. HAR. No, I haven't, you dirty birds.)
Ok.
Wow, enough of that rant!
Sorry.
I called a friend today.
A friend who was out of town when our family was shaken up last week, burying a grandmother.
Sadness, sadness all around.
I don't dare to wonder what my 3 will be.
Bad things come in threes, you know.
My friend did a beautiful job on my hair today.
He is really talented.
He taught me a new trick--
something that takes a lot of work, and I will NEVER do on a daily basis,
but could be fun for the occasional night out.
I will never understand how women can spend that much time on their hair daily.
Blows my mind.
Wouldn't you rather SLEEP???
I would.
So the good news is: I took some Braless Tuesday pictures.
The bad news is: I haven't uploaded them yet, and I don't know when I will.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe
NOT.
heh.
I wish the world was smaller, and had fewer rules.
I wish I could turn into a bird and fly over land and sea--
so much sea.
And landing, turn back into the sultry little thing that I am,
and slip in through a door, fortuitously left unlocked.
I would exhale over you like a sheet of the finest silk, and wrap you gently to me.
You would flutter awake, eyes still foggy with dreams of me, but your smile would tell me you knew I was real.
I want my hands to learn the hard and smooth and hairy surfaces of your body--
sending reports like love letters to my brain.
I want to feel your breath in my ear as you whisper the things I know you would say.
I want to kiss you--
anywhere, everywhere.
Your mouth belongs with mine.
I want to feel your arms as they draw me to you;
strong arms, sure arms.
"Want in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up faster."
That's what my mama used to say.
Happy day to you all, whatever the fuck day it is when you read this.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Mondays are actually good, sometimes
Mondays are back to routine, and back to business.
Again, I thank you each for your dear comments.
I feel like changing the subject would be disrespectful, but I also feel like I cannot dwell on this any longer.
Even his girlfriend remarked yesterday how much better she feels already--
and how she feels a little guilty and a lot surprised that only a week has passed, leaving her so much lighter.
I agreed.
I think it's because we grieved so hard, so deep.
And now...it's a reprieve.
We finally pounded it into our heads that yes, he IS gone.
No more denial, although it was a strangely comforting feeling to repeat, "This can't be true," etc.
My house is sorely in need of a deep cleaning.
I think a good Fall Cleaning is almost more important than a Spring cleaning--
kids home making messes all summer, tracking in grass clippings, playing in sandboxes!
The sun was coming througha window the other day at just such an angle as to illuminate the dust particles in the air.
I found myself frantically breathing through my nose:
it looked like there was more dust than oxygen in the air.
Friggin' scary.
And probably not that great for our lungs, etc.
So...time to dust and vacum (although this dust-sighting was on the main floor of my home, which has all tile floors, and leather or wood furniture. there are a couple of rugs, but maybe that's why there's more dust in the air...? Dunno.)
I found myself wanting to turn on the vacum and just wave the hose around in the air!
Eek.
I learned a cool cleaning trick at the bridal shower I went to the other day.
Take your lint trap out of your dryer every couple of months and wash it with soap and water.
If you're using a fabric softener that comes in sheet form, there is a substance on it that clogs that screen and will become a fire hazard.
Besides, if you have a clean screen, your dry times go down by ten or fifteen minutes per load.
JACKPOT!!
Yes, I'm a housewife, and don't you forget it!!
So, school.
I got the kids a bunch of awesome clothes yesterday.
That never gets old.
I love buying clothes, period, and when it's "necessary" it's even more fun.
And they're so cute!!
I just need to find them some good shoes, and we'll be all set.
...they are 6 and I haven't even thought about teaching them to tie their shoes because they haven't had lace-up shoes since the Doc Martens we got a few years ago...I want to find some more of those, in fact.
They made me almost-horny.
Anyway, this is just further proof that I am a lazy, semi-shitty mother.
Oh well.
At least they're smart boys, so I won't handicap them too much.
Me, I just need some shoes and to go get my hair dyed, and I'll be ready to rumble.
Oh...I guess I ought to go get my books, too.
Our school bookstore has a cool little setup so I can buy them on-line and just go pick them up at the bookstore in a special, short line.
Which is not special in the same way as the short bus, fyi.
I looked up my classes on the campus map and it would appear that they are spread out all over campus.
Awesome.
So, tomorrow is the day that I will go to campus and get books and figure out which parking lot I want to use, and maybe if I have time and/or get really anal, I will time myself to see how long it takes me to walk between buildings.
Hey!
I said, "maybe"!!!
...shut up.
Ok.
So I'm off to eat a yummy turkey sandwich, and go to the gym and make about 43 phone calls.
Hope you're having a good day, and yes, DG, I may actually post that hot shirt tomorrow!
Again, I thank you each for your dear comments.
I feel like changing the subject would be disrespectful, but I also feel like I cannot dwell on this any longer.
Even his girlfriend remarked yesterday how much better she feels already--
and how she feels a little guilty and a lot surprised that only a week has passed, leaving her so much lighter.
I agreed.
I think it's because we grieved so hard, so deep.
And now...it's a reprieve.
We finally pounded it into our heads that yes, he IS gone.
No more denial, although it was a strangely comforting feeling to repeat, "This can't be true," etc.
My house is sorely in need of a deep cleaning.
I think a good Fall Cleaning is almost more important than a Spring cleaning--
kids home making messes all summer, tracking in grass clippings, playing in sandboxes!
The sun was coming througha window the other day at just such an angle as to illuminate the dust particles in the air.
I found myself frantically breathing through my nose:
it looked like there was more dust than oxygen in the air.
Friggin' scary.
And probably not that great for our lungs, etc.
So...time to dust and vacum (although this dust-sighting was on the main floor of my home, which has all tile floors, and leather or wood furniture. there are a couple of rugs, but maybe that's why there's more dust in the air...? Dunno.)
I found myself wanting to turn on the vacum and just wave the hose around in the air!
Eek.
I learned a cool cleaning trick at the bridal shower I went to the other day.
Take your lint trap out of your dryer every couple of months and wash it with soap and water.
If you're using a fabric softener that comes in sheet form, there is a substance on it that clogs that screen and will become a fire hazard.
Besides, if you have a clean screen, your dry times go down by ten or fifteen minutes per load.
JACKPOT!!
Yes, I'm a housewife, and don't you forget it!!
So, school.
I got the kids a bunch of awesome clothes yesterday.
That never gets old.
I love buying clothes, period, and when it's "necessary" it's even more fun.
And they're so cute!!
I just need to find them some good shoes, and we'll be all set.
...they are 6 and I haven't even thought about teaching them to tie their shoes because they haven't had lace-up shoes since the Doc Martens we got a few years ago...I want to find some more of those, in fact.
They made me almost-horny.
Anyway, this is just further proof that I am a lazy, semi-shitty mother.
Oh well.
At least they're smart boys, so I won't handicap them too much.
Me, I just need some shoes and to go get my hair dyed, and I'll be ready to rumble.
Oh...I guess I ought to go get my books, too.
Our school bookstore has a cool little setup so I can buy them on-line and just go pick them up at the bookstore in a special, short line.
Which is not special in the same way as the short bus, fyi.
I looked up my classes on the campus map and it would appear that they are spread out all over campus.
Awesome.
So, tomorrow is the day that I will go to campus and get books and figure out which parking lot I want to use, and maybe if I have time and/or get really anal, I will time myself to see how long it takes me to walk between buildings.
Hey!
I said, "maybe"!!!
...shut up.
Ok.
So I'm off to eat a yummy turkey sandwich, and go to the gym and make about 43 phone calls.
Hope you're having a good day, and yes, DG, I may actually post that hot shirt tomorrow!
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Today...
today I feel oddly at peace.
I don't know if it's because funerals really do offer closure,
or if it's because I am so tired that nothing seems real, let alone the thing I don't want to think about anymore.
I would say I've grieved well.
But this new feeling is odd.
It's like he's still here, just somewhere else right now.
The shock has worn off; I'm accustomed to this new and ugly information which has settled in the folds of my brain, rather stubbornly.
I cried so often and so hard that I guess maybe I'm out of tears for a while.
I'm not trying to get ahead of myself, but I have pretty tangible hope that my life will wend its way back to a pattern of normalcy soon.
The service was perfect.
Each brother spoke for a few minutes.
The oldest went first and was amazing.
I want a copy of his speech.
He is like his mother and I--a lover of words, both writing and reading.
I made a CD to play as background music during the one hour viewing before the service....
I carefully selected some of the sombre tunes from among his favorite heavy metal CDs.
No Leaf Clover-Metallica
Mama Said-Metallica
Silent Lucidity-Queensryche
When the Children Cry--White Snake (or Lion?) because it was a song his daughter loved to listen to with him. She calls it "The guitar song" because of the opening.
Anyway...
I somehow included a Quiet Riot track!
The one that starts out, "Come on feel the noise! Girls rock your boys!"
jeeeeezus.
I felt like such an idiot.
The place was packed.
They had to add more seating and open an extra little room.
Beautiful speeches by everyone.
My husband even managed to restrain himself from chewing out the Assholes.
These are people who took the two boys just older than Cameron as foster children when they were in high school.
They have remained important to each other, but when Galen got divorced they took his wife's side and turned their backs on him.
It hurt him so much.
So...Cam thought he would bring that up.
Fortunately he mentioned it to me and I gently suggested that it would be more appropriate to speak to them privately.
Galen would have HATED for him to make a scene.
The mother in question attempted to give Cameron a hug during the viewing and he looked her in the eye and said, "No, I don't think so," but that's as far as he went.
Praise the jeebus.
I mean, hell.
I'd like to tear those pricks a couple of new assholes, too, but that wasn't the time or place.
Not only did they disown him because of the divorce, but they also were just plain asshats to my mother-in-law back in the foster care days.
They took all the credit for the successes of the two boys and treated her like dirt in general.
Fuckers.
And the interment was almost more than I could bear, but then everything sort of went into peaceful mode.
It was a gorgeous day and an absolutely stunning cemetary.
His little spot is behind a grassy knoll...that would make him chuckle...with gorgeous, huge trees around it--very private and with a view of the whole valley.
It is just above his high school and only a mile or so from where his daughter lives.
She will visit him often.
There are bunnies there, and squirrels, which I think will make her visits especially nice.
They just scamper around, cuz it's kind of tucked away in the foothills.
She is so precious.
Her mother is amazing with her.
I hope I never lose anyone this close to me again.
Well, since that's not possible, I'll just hope for it to be a really long time.
In other news...
I just discovered that I can't take the sailing class I was so excited about.
It overlaps my niece's wedding weekend, which means my parents will be here and there will be lots of family stuff going on.
Piss.
Stupid 19 year olds who think they should get married!!!
Dude. Just start screwing him.
I hope I don't forget to go to class next week...
It's on Thursday.
I also better go get some school clothes for my kids, who start the following Monday.
That is also my 8th wedding anniversary.
And yes, I'll be getting myself a few things as well.
Mostly shoes.
I've noticed that I have a bunch of sandals, but only a slightly beaten-up pair of UGG clogs and some black, high-heeled boots.
What the hell?
How did I make it through last winter?
Bah.
I know I've gotten old when the thought of keeping on top of fashion makes me tired.
Here we are, back on another Saturday night.
And yet again I am feeling weary and in need of a bath.
This time...let's hope there is no knock at the door.
(Hawaii pictures coming soon)
I don't know if it's because funerals really do offer closure,
or if it's because I am so tired that nothing seems real, let alone the thing I don't want to think about anymore.
I would say I've grieved well.
But this new feeling is odd.
It's like he's still here, just somewhere else right now.
The shock has worn off; I'm accustomed to this new and ugly information which has settled in the folds of my brain, rather stubbornly.
I cried so often and so hard that I guess maybe I'm out of tears for a while.
I'm not trying to get ahead of myself, but I have pretty tangible hope that my life will wend its way back to a pattern of normalcy soon.
The service was perfect.
Each brother spoke for a few minutes.
The oldest went first and was amazing.
I want a copy of his speech.
He is like his mother and I--a lover of words, both writing and reading.
I made a CD to play as background music during the one hour viewing before the service....
I carefully selected some of the sombre tunes from among his favorite heavy metal CDs.
No Leaf Clover-Metallica
Mama Said-Metallica
Silent Lucidity-Queensryche
When the Children Cry--White Snake (or Lion?) because it was a song his daughter loved to listen to with him. She calls it "The guitar song" because of the opening.
Anyway...
I somehow included a Quiet Riot track!
The one that starts out, "Come on feel the noise! Girls rock your boys!"
jeeeeezus.
I felt like such an idiot.
The place was packed.
They had to add more seating and open an extra little room.
Beautiful speeches by everyone.
My husband even managed to restrain himself from chewing out the Assholes.
These are people who took the two boys just older than Cameron as foster children when they were in high school.
They have remained important to each other, but when Galen got divorced they took his wife's side and turned their backs on him.
It hurt him so much.
So...Cam thought he would bring that up.
Fortunately he mentioned it to me and I gently suggested that it would be more appropriate to speak to them privately.
Galen would have HATED for him to make a scene.
The mother in question attempted to give Cameron a hug during the viewing and he looked her in the eye and said, "No, I don't think so," but that's as far as he went.
Praise the jeebus.
I mean, hell.
I'd like to tear those pricks a couple of new assholes, too, but that wasn't the time or place.
Not only did they disown him because of the divorce, but they also were just plain asshats to my mother-in-law back in the foster care days.
They took all the credit for the successes of the two boys and treated her like dirt in general.
Fuckers.
And the interment was almost more than I could bear, but then everything sort of went into peaceful mode.
It was a gorgeous day and an absolutely stunning cemetary.
His little spot is behind a grassy knoll...that would make him chuckle...with gorgeous, huge trees around it--very private and with a view of the whole valley.
It is just above his high school and only a mile or so from where his daughter lives.
She will visit him often.
There are bunnies there, and squirrels, which I think will make her visits especially nice.
They just scamper around, cuz it's kind of tucked away in the foothills.
She is so precious.
Her mother is amazing with her.
I hope I never lose anyone this close to me again.
Well, since that's not possible, I'll just hope for it to be a really long time.
In other news...
I just discovered that I can't take the sailing class I was so excited about.
It overlaps my niece's wedding weekend, which means my parents will be here and there will be lots of family stuff going on.
Piss.
Stupid 19 year olds who think they should get married!!!
Dude. Just start screwing him.
I hope I don't forget to go to class next week...
It's on Thursday.
I also better go get some school clothes for my kids, who start the following Monday.
That is also my 8th wedding anniversary.
And yes, I'll be getting myself a few things as well.
Mostly shoes.
I've noticed that I have a bunch of sandals, but only a slightly beaten-up pair of UGG clogs and some black, high-heeled boots.
What the hell?
How did I make it through last winter?
Bah.
I know I've gotten old when the thought of keeping on top of fashion makes me tired.
Here we are, back on another Saturday night.
And yet again I am feeling weary and in need of a bath.
This time...let's hope there is no knock at the door.
(Hawaii pictures coming soon)
Friday, August 18, 2006
The air smells like corn on the cob...
I can't explain it, but that's just how it is here.
Anyway...
here's a hint:
Don't wear high heels when you're planning to stand for 3 hours.
Faaaaaaaaack.
That was so retarded of me.
The viewing was really good, and I'm hopeful that tomorrow will be more of the same.
The best part of the night was when I discovered that my husband is actually dealing with this in his fashion.
Good.
The worst part of the night was...all the little moments when I remembered he's gone.
Anyway.
You guys have all shown your true colors this week...
I'm not sure what the actual colors are, but they are from the Warm & Wonderful pallette...
So, again...thank you.
Your compassion and sympathetic words have been absorbed like the dry little sponge that I am...
dry, because I've cried out about 40% of the moisture in my body.
Yes, I look pretty strange at the moment.
Ha.
I thought I felt like writing, but then the father-in-law arrived and I'm trying to burn a CD of his favorite songs for tomorrow, but I don't know what they are!
Oh well.
Time for bed.
Anyway...
here's a hint:
Don't wear high heels when you're planning to stand for 3 hours.
Faaaaaaaaack.
That was so retarded of me.
The viewing was really good, and I'm hopeful that tomorrow will be more of the same.
The best part of the night was when I discovered that my husband is actually dealing with this in his fashion.
Good.
The worst part of the night was...all the little moments when I remembered he's gone.
Anyway.
You guys have all shown your true colors this week...
I'm not sure what the actual colors are, but they are from the Warm & Wonderful pallette...
So, again...thank you.
Your compassion and sympathetic words have been absorbed like the dry little sponge that I am...
dry, because I've cried out about 40% of the moisture in my body.
Yes, I look pretty strange at the moment.
Ha.
I thought I felt like writing, but then the father-in-law arrived and I'm trying to burn a CD of his favorite songs for tomorrow, but I don't know what they are!
Oh well.
Time for bed.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Ok, enough of the heavy stuff
Again, I can't tell you guys enough how great it's been to pop in for so many wonderful cyber hugs.
I've reached that stage where I am over the shock, and my mind is used to having him in the forefront so it doesn't jolt me every time I think about him.
Anyway.
I just wanted to put something slightly less dark up.
So last night one of the brothers left his Audi here,
and he always lets me drive his cars, so I took it when I ran out to get Arby's at 10.
(I had realized that I hadn't eaten any meals and very few snacks all day, so it was time.)
La la la, fun to drive a different car, etc.
And then I gave it some gas and the pedal stuck to the floor.
It freaked me the hell out at first because I didn't know what was happening.
Fortunately, the brakes still worked and I made it to the side of the road and put the car in Park and turned it off.
I was only out of control for probably 10 seconds (it sped up, I braked, then let off the brakes and it sped up again, so I braked again and got off the road), but it was enough to shake me up.
So that was pretty sweet.
Before that I had a cool chat with a convenience store clerk as she rang up my husband's cigarettes.
There was a rainstorm starting and she commented on it.
I mentioned how much I love watching the lightening with my kids and she agreed.
Then she told me about her uncle who has been hit 3 times!
Crazy.
I have things I should be doing, so I think I'll end this.
Just wanted to pop in and let you all know I'm doing a bit better.
Viewing tomorrow night, funeral Friday.
Ack.
Thank you all again for being here with me.
The obituary's at harktheherald.com, if anyone's interested.
I've reached that stage where I am over the shock, and my mind is used to having him in the forefront so it doesn't jolt me every time I think about him.
Anyway.
I just wanted to put something slightly less dark up.
So last night one of the brothers left his Audi here,
and he always lets me drive his cars, so I took it when I ran out to get Arby's at 10.
(I had realized that I hadn't eaten any meals and very few snacks all day, so it was time.)
La la la, fun to drive a different car, etc.
And then I gave it some gas and the pedal stuck to the floor.
It freaked me the hell out at first because I didn't know what was happening.
Fortunately, the brakes still worked and I made it to the side of the road and put the car in Park and turned it off.
I was only out of control for probably 10 seconds (it sped up, I braked, then let off the brakes and it sped up again, so I braked again and got off the road), but it was enough to shake me up.
So that was pretty sweet.
Before that I had a cool chat with a convenience store clerk as she rang up my husband's cigarettes.
There was a rainstorm starting and she commented on it.
I mentioned how much I love watching the lightening with my kids and she agreed.
Then she told me about her uncle who has been hit 3 times!
Crazy.
I have things I should be doing, so I think I'll end this.
Just wanted to pop in and let you all know I'm doing a bit better.
Viewing tomorrow night, funeral Friday.
Ack.
Thank you all again for being here with me.
The obituary's at harktheherald.com, if anyone's interested.
Monday, August 14, 2006
How do I begin?
First, thank you all so much for your kind words.
It means so much to me.
I just need to pour out some of my thoughts, so please, please don't feel like you have to comment; grief is awkward for those around the griever and I understand that very well myself.
I guess I'm putting some thoughts here because I feel like you should know more about what happened and who he was.
First of all, he always wore a helmet.
He also knew how to handle a bike better than anyone.
He pulled that thing out of skids a bunch of times.
I was writing a post when I heard him come into the house, and I sort of assumed he was still here.
When the doorbell rang, 15 or 20 minutes later I assumed it was my husband returning from a client site and he'd forgotten his keys or something.
Before I reached the door I realized that was a stupid thought.
There were 4 uniformed officers standing there and I knew it was something bad.
My thoughts leapt to the stupid things G. could have done.
He has a concealed weapons permit and my thoughts jumped there.
They asked if my husband was home.
They then asked my relationship to G.
They again insisted that they needed to speak to my husband, and I said, "Oh no...What did he (G) do?"
They said, "He passed away."
The previous interactions had been like lapping little waves and that was a tsunami.
So unexpected, so wrong.
Then they came in and we sat down and they told me a little bit about it and gave me a card and collected information about other immediate family.
They didn't do the greatest job.
They need a better set of questions.
They never asked how many brothers he had, and whether they should send an officer to tell his ex-wife (as it turns out, they should have; she thought the phone call was a practical joke), and hesitated over sending one to his mother because she lives so far away.
Um, DUH, fuckers, you can call one of the cops in HER town and send him.
Hello??
I was coherant enough to come up with that suggestion, but I feel bad I didn't think of telling them to send someone to his ex-wife.
When they told her, they said he had had an accident on his bike, and she said, "ok, which hospital is he at?"
When they told her that he was dead she said, "oh, then you must have the wrong guy. He wouldn't have crashed his motorcycle."
And she truly beleived what she was saying.
The cop insisted that it was him and it was then that she joined the rest of us in hysterical crying.
Super.
That was when she explained how great he was on his bike--I never knew that he was that good.
So what the fuck happened?
Anyway.
I had to personally tell 3 of the 5 brothers.
And his girlfriend--
the girlfriend he told all of us he had broken up with a year ago.
The girlfriend I knew he was still seeing.
The girlfriend who...is such a fragile creature that I can't stop worrying about her.
My husband didn't get it; no one did.
But I had to find her.
She didn't know yet and I couldn't let her see it on the news.
We had no way of reaching her Saturday night, but yesterday I went to her parent's house and took her mother with me to tell her (I didn't know where she lived or have a phone number).
That.
Was probably the worst thing I've ever had to do.
She needed him more than any of us can comprehend.
I can't think about it right now.
I'm going to go down later and take her into the funeral home so she can see him.
She's not family so they won't let her in...it's so unfair.
So.
As for what happened.
I guess he was racing up and down the street, without his helmet.
So very uncharacteristic of him.
He was popping little wheelies, and just showing off or something.
He lost control and flew from the bike, into a tree.
A tiny fucking tree, like 4 inches thick.
That tree is coming DOWN, by the way. That godamned tree.
It was the only thing he could have hit and he did.
A few inches to the side and we'd have a whole different story.
He was a big man, 6' 8".
How can he not be indestructible?
So. He died on impact.
I hate that the news story plays up the fact that he was speeding and not wearing a helmet--
I know those things caused his death, but that's not who he was.
He wasn't that guy who plows through life without regard to others (or of his own safety).
He was so considerate, so aware of other people.
He was aware of how hard my husband's constant business travel was on me; he was so kind to me.
We never talked about it or anything, but the softness in his voice, the compassion when he said, "Cameron's gone again? Wow..."
I should have
--ah, but that list could go on forever and it's pointless, anyway.
I know that he felt loved here, I know that he felt peaceful being part of our family and that is worth a lot now.
We gave him stability.
He wasn't home a lot, but we always had some good conversations when he was.
And I am so, so glad I got the chance to know him.
It's so weird. I go from being matter-of-fact and telling the story to feeling it and just sobbing again.
I didn't know this brother very well before he moved in here a year ago.
With 5 of them, I am closer to some and less so to others.
He had the reputation of sort of being the Asshole--
an ego as tall as he was.
He was Mr. Always-Right.
But he had begun to soften over the past few years and people closer to him had always said he had a soft core.
They were right.
He was an amazing father and a good person.
He really was smarter than most people, which is where the ego came from.
He was taller than most, too.
Got a basketball scholarship, so he obviously excelled there.
My kids were as curious as ever when I told them about what happened, full of a million questions.
They don't quite get it, but that's ok.
I had mentioned reincarnation to them a few days ago (as I tried to counteract mother-in-law's Mormon Resurrection speech...ugh) and so one of them said, "Maybe he'll come back as a bird." The other chimed in, "Yeah, if you see the giantest bird, it's him."
(oops. I kind of posted that mid-thought. J was here with french pastries--sorry, she wins the prize for best friend! Oh, and wine...I forgot the wine. That was more of a thank-you present for watching her dog, though.)
I guess I was nearly done.
I could go on and on.
I have been talking and crying non-stop since it happened, so the healing process feels like it's on target.
My eyes are still very puffy, and I keep forgetting to eat,
and I have to keep busy or I just cry.
There was something else I wanted to say about him, though.
I can't remember it right now.
I keep thinking he's just not here right now and then I remember.
Jesus.
Oh, I remembered the thing I was going to say!
Yes, saying "Jesus" reminded me, actually.
He was staunchly opposed to organized religion, and had often said, "If God himself showed up and told me the Mormons were right, I would still not believe it."
So.
As a person who hasn't lost someone since she herself was a staunch mormon...
it is interesting to wonder what he's experiencing right now.
I still firmly believe in an after-life, and I know he at least recognized it as a possibility.
I found myself, in the first hours after the accident, with this sense of excitement or anticipation--
I don't know quite how to describe it,but I was feeling eager for him to see what's on the other side.
Sounds kooooky, I know.
But I know he was curious, and I know he was skeptical.
But I also know that he was pleasantly surprised.
I better go round up the kids and feed them.
Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean they aren't, right?
Again, thank you for all your virtual hugs.
I really am sorry for making you feel my sadness no matter how briefly.
But I guess that's how friendship works...we share each other's highs and lows, don't we?
Well.
I'll call ya when it's time to get high.
I mean...be high?
heh.
First, thank you all so much for your kind words.
It means so much to me.
I just need to pour out some of my thoughts, so please, please don't feel like you have to comment; grief is awkward for those around the griever and I understand that very well myself.
I guess I'm putting some thoughts here because I feel like you should know more about what happened and who he was.
First of all, he always wore a helmet.
He also knew how to handle a bike better than anyone.
He pulled that thing out of skids a bunch of times.
I was writing a post when I heard him come into the house, and I sort of assumed he was still here.
When the doorbell rang, 15 or 20 minutes later I assumed it was my husband returning from a client site and he'd forgotten his keys or something.
Before I reached the door I realized that was a stupid thought.
There were 4 uniformed officers standing there and I knew it was something bad.
My thoughts leapt to the stupid things G. could have done.
He has a concealed weapons permit and my thoughts jumped there.
They asked if my husband was home.
They then asked my relationship to G.
They again insisted that they needed to speak to my husband, and I said, "Oh no...What did he (G) do?"
They said, "He passed away."
The previous interactions had been like lapping little waves and that was a tsunami.
So unexpected, so wrong.
Then they came in and we sat down and they told me a little bit about it and gave me a card and collected information about other immediate family.
They didn't do the greatest job.
They need a better set of questions.
They never asked how many brothers he had, and whether they should send an officer to tell his ex-wife (as it turns out, they should have; she thought the phone call was a practical joke), and hesitated over sending one to his mother because she lives so far away.
Um, DUH, fuckers, you can call one of the cops in HER town and send him.
Hello??
I was coherant enough to come up with that suggestion, but I feel bad I didn't think of telling them to send someone to his ex-wife.
When they told her, they said he had had an accident on his bike, and she said, "ok, which hospital is he at?"
When they told her that he was dead she said, "oh, then you must have the wrong guy. He wouldn't have crashed his motorcycle."
And she truly beleived what she was saying.
The cop insisted that it was him and it was then that she joined the rest of us in hysterical crying.
Super.
That was when she explained how great he was on his bike--I never knew that he was that good.
So what the fuck happened?
Anyway.
I had to personally tell 3 of the 5 brothers.
And his girlfriend--
the girlfriend he told all of us he had broken up with a year ago.
The girlfriend I knew he was still seeing.
The girlfriend who...is such a fragile creature that I can't stop worrying about her.
My husband didn't get it; no one did.
But I had to find her.
She didn't know yet and I couldn't let her see it on the news.
We had no way of reaching her Saturday night, but yesterday I went to her parent's house and took her mother with me to tell her (I didn't know where she lived or have a phone number).
That.
Was probably the worst thing I've ever had to do.
She needed him more than any of us can comprehend.
I can't think about it right now.
I'm going to go down later and take her into the funeral home so she can see him.
She's not family so they won't let her in...it's so unfair.
So.
As for what happened.
I guess he was racing up and down the street, without his helmet.
So very uncharacteristic of him.
He was popping little wheelies, and just showing off or something.
He lost control and flew from the bike, into a tree.
A tiny fucking tree, like 4 inches thick.
That tree is coming DOWN, by the way. That godamned tree.
It was the only thing he could have hit and he did.
A few inches to the side and we'd have a whole different story.
He was a big man, 6' 8".
How can he not be indestructible?
So. He died on impact.
I hate that the news story plays up the fact that he was speeding and not wearing a helmet--
I know those things caused his death, but that's not who he was.
He wasn't that guy who plows through life without regard to others (or of his own safety).
He was so considerate, so aware of other people.
He was aware of how hard my husband's constant business travel was on me; he was so kind to me.
We never talked about it or anything, but the softness in his voice, the compassion when he said, "Cameron's gone again? Wow..."
I should have
--ah, but that list could go on forever and it's pointless, anyway.
I know that he felt loved here, I know that he felt peaceful being part of our family and that is worth a lot now.
We gave him stability.
He wasn't home a lot, but we always had some good conversations when he was.
And I am so, so glad I got the chance to know him.
It's so weird. I go from being matter-of-fact and telling the story to feeling it and just sobbing again.
I didn't know this brother very well before he moved in here a year ago.
With 5 of them, I am closer to some and less so to others.
He had the reputation of sort of being the Asshole--
an ego as tall as he was.
He was Mr. Always-Right.
But he had begun to soften over the past few years and people closer to him had always said he had a soft core.
They were right.
He was an amazing father and a good person.
He really was smarter than most people, which is where the ego came from.
He was taller than most, too.
Got a basketball scholarship, so he obviously excelled there.
My kids were as curious as ever when I told them about what happened, full of a million questions.
They don't quite get it, but that's ok.
I had mentioned reincarnation to them a few days ago (as I tried to counteract mother-in-law's Mormon Resurrection speech...ugh) and so one of them said, "Maybe he'll come back as a bird." The other chimed in, "Yeah, if you see the giantest bird, it's him."
(oops. I kind of posted that mid-thought. J was here with french pastries--sorry, she wins the prize for best friend! Oh, and wine...I forgot the wine. That was more of a thank-you present for watching her dog, though.)
I guess I was nearly done.
I could go on and on.
I have been talking and crying non-stop since it happened, so the healing process feels like it's on target.
My eyes are still very puffy, and I keep forgetting to eat,
and I have to keep busy or I just cry.
There was something else I wanted to say about him, though.
I can't remember it right now.
I keep thinking he's just not here right now and then I remember.
Jesus.
Oh, I remembered the thing I was going to say!
Yes, saying "Jesus" reminded me, actually.
He was staunchly opposed to organized religion, and had often said, "If God himself showed up and told me the Mormons were right, I would still not believe it."
So.
As a person who hasn't lost someone since she herself was a staunch mormon...
it is interesting to wonder what he's experiencing right now.
I still firmly believe in an after-life, and I know he at least recognized it as a possibility.
I found myself, in the first hours after the accident, with this sense of excitement or anticipation--
I don't know quite how to describe it,but I was feeling eager for him to see what's on the other side.
Sounds kooooky, I know.
But I know he was curious, and I know he was skeptical.
But I also know that he was pleasantly surprised.
I better go round up the kids and feed them.
Just because I'm not hungry doesn't mean they aren't, right?
Again, thank you for all your virtual hugs.
I really am sorry for making you feel my sadness no matter how briefly.
But I guess that's how friendship works...we share each other's highs and lows, don't we?
Well.
I'll call ya when it's time to get high.
I mean...be high?
heh.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Loss for words
I'm still in the denial phase, I guess.
The police came to my door last night and told me that my brother-in-law had been killed.
The one who's been living at my house for the past year.
I haven't slept much, nor stopped crying much, but as always I felt the need to put something into words.
I keep seeing his smiling face and everytime I do, I shake my head a little--
cuz it's NOT true.
It can't be, it shouldn't be.
I will not be around much for a few days, obviously.
I am ok.
But he shouldn't be gone. He just shouldn't.
He was here.
I heard him come in and thought fleetingly of going upstairs to chit-chat a bit;
my usual thought.
But, I didn't.
No, I won't beat myself up with the "what if"s, but jesus.
Another fantastic "what if" concerns the police themselves.
He had been riding his bullet bike fast, up and down our small street and there had been complaints called in by a neighbor or neighbors (we're assuming).
They were on the scene one minute from when they were dispatched, so they were obviously already on their way.
So...what if they had made it there sooner?
He would have had a ticket, possibly an arrest for mouthing off or something stupid like that.
No helmet.
There are 5 brothers where there were 6.
There are people who don't know yet; friends of his that we don't know how to contact without his cell phone, which is at th Medical Examiner's office with him.
So we all sat up last night planning things and his poor mother is such a Mormon and he was just not, but we are all making sure he gets his wishes.
She wants to cut his hair.
We will not let that happen, and she will as always, refuse to accept that her wishes are not the only ones in existence.
She is doing well, though.
If I don't believe it, will it be untrue?
yeah. I know it won't.
The police came to my door last night and told me that my brother-in-law had been killed.
The one who's been living at my house for the past year.
I haven't slept much, nor stopped crying much, but as always I felt the need to put something into words.
I keep seeing his smiling face and everytime I do, I shake my head a little--
cuz it's NOT true.
It can't be, it shouldn't be.
I will not be around much for a few days, obviously.
I am ok.
But he shouldn't be gone. He just shouldn't.
He was here.
I heard him come in and thought fleetingly of going upstairs to chit-chat a bit;
my usual thought.
But, I didn't.
No, I won't beat myself up with the "what if"s, but jesus.
Another fantastic "what if" concerns the police themselves.
He had been riding his bullet bike fast, up and down our small street and there had been complaints called in by a neighbor or neighbors (we're assuming).
They were on the scene one minute from when they were dispatched, so they were obviously already on their way.
So...what if they had made it there sooner?
He would have had a ticket, possibly an arrest for mouthing off or something stupid like that.
No helmet.
There are 5 brothers where there were 6.
There are people who don't know yet; friends of his that we don't know how to contact without his cell phone, which is at th Medical Examiner's office with him.
So we all sat up last night planning things and his poor mother is such a Mormon and he was just not, but we are all making sure he gets his wishes.
She wants to cut his hair.
We will not let that happen, and she will as always, refuse to accept that her wishes are not the only ones in existence.
She is doing well, though.
If I don't believe it, will it be untrue?
yeah. I know it won't.
Perfection comes in small and unexpected doses--
Today was a beautiful day.
Last night, the lightening sprawled across the sky
right
above my house.
The thunder shook me.
The softness of the rain was almost out of place,
warm and smooth.
Jagged, sharp, icicles of light shattering the thick grey of the night sky.
I loved it.
But tonight...
was clear and coolish-warmish.
And when J called and invited me to meet her at the dog park?
"Fuck yes."
That's what I said to her.
I needed like our desert needed last night's rain,
and like dessert needs a big glass of milk.
Because.
Because I forced myself to think some deep thoughts today.
As I headed down the mountain (not much like an avalanche, more like a volvo...)
I sought the station that plays purely sappy-assed songs.
Found it.
And dove in.
Letting each one wash over me and pull old hurts and new worries out of me like poison from a snake bite.
I needed it.
Or so says the shortness of breath and heart palpitations I've been having.
I'm feeling a little more at ease, but was still a bit somber when the J-girl called, so it was perfect timing.
Best of all, I got to spend that best kind of time with my kids--
they were exploring this beautiful City Creek park/trails/river place and it made my heart soar.
It's like they really are little tiny Lisas.
(With penises.)
They wanted to see where every trail went--
"The forest is so BIG, mom! What if a bear eats us?"
Er...no. Not gonna happen.
"Mom, can we hike? It's great hiking weather!"
"Look! All 3 trails meet right here (stands in the center), so...we're in the middle of NOWHERE.(pause, reconsider) Well. We're somewhere, alright."
What the fuck??
Kids are the greatest little inventions on this earth.*
*except when unfed, unrested, or in times of generally brattiness.
The weather was absolute perfection, it really was.
I think I might have to go smoke something and get in the bathtub.
Nah, maybe I'll just pop a couple of Aleve.
Hm...natural or man-made?
Tough choice.
I keep feeling like there's something I'm forgetting to do.
Probably someone's dying because of me right now.
If so...er...SORRY!
Last night, the lightening sprawled across the sky
right
above my house.
The thunder shook me.
The softness of the rain was almost out of place,
warm and smooth.
Jagged, sharp, icicles of light shattering the thick grey of the night sky.
I loved it.
But tonight...
was clear and coolish-warmish.
And when J called and invited me to meet her at the dog park?
"Fuck yes."
That's what I said to her.
I needed like our desert needed last night's rain,
and like dessert needs a big glass of milk.
Because.
Because I forced myself to think some deep thoughts today.
As I headed down the mountain (not much like an avalanche, more like a volvo...)
I sought the station that plays purely sappy-assed songs.
Found it.
And dove in.
Letting each one wash over me and pull old hurts and new worries out of me like poison from a snake bite.
I needed it.
Or so says the shortness of breath and heart palpitations I've been having.
I'm feeling a little more at ease, but was still a bit somber when the J-girl called, so it was perfect timing.
Best of all, I got to spend that best kind of time with my kids--
they were exploring this beautiful City Creek park/trails/river place and it made my heart soar.
It's like they really are little tiny Lisas.
(With penises.)
They wanted to see where every trail went--
"The forest is so BIG, mom! What if a bear eats us?"
Er...no. Not gonna happen.
"Mom, can we hike? It's great hiking weather!"
"Look! All 3 trails meet right here (stands in the center), so...we're in the middle of NOWHERE.(pause, reconsider) Well. We're somewhere, alright."
What the fuck??
Kids are the greatest little inventions on this earth.*
*except when unfed, unrested, or in times of generally brattiness.
The weather was absolute perfection, it really was.
I think I might have to go smoke something and get in the bathtub.
Nah, maybe I'll just pop a couple of Aleve.
Hm...natural or man-made?
Tough choice.
I keep feeling like there's something I'm forgetting to do.
Probably someone's dying because of me right now.
If so...er...SORRY!
Friday, August 11, 2006
I dont know if you can tell--
but it is raining straight down on me and there is no cloud above!
These are the closest clouds, and they are no where near my head!
Ok, so maybe there is a teeny one right behind me, but I swear to god, the rain was coming straight down out of the blue sky.
Rock.
On.
Oh, I was at the pool with the kids, which is why I was fascinate by the rain.
Yeah...I would have been fascinated by it regardless of my location...
happy weekend, fellas!
click here.
Yes, I'm a follower (for today) Bite me.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Maybe the problem isn't me at all...
maybe it's you.
haaa....that was a bit of a joke.
Sort of a private joke--
between me, myself, and I.
A pretty hot three-way, if I do say so.
Ok, so I just deleted the saddest piece of shit I've ever posted here.
Well, that's a bit of an overstatement--
I post sad shit all the time, so who can really be bothered to rank each post??
But you get the idea.
I took it down because it was bringing me down.
And when those one guys from the 70s use their progressive rock vibes to beg you not to bring them down, it's hard to rationalize doing so in spite of their sexiness.
Right?
Who the fuck sings that song anyway?
And would the reference have been even a small percentage cooler if I had thrown in the band name rather than just a vague description?
...didn't think so.
The point is, how can I be expected to be down in the dumps when,
a. hubby brought home Rumbi,
b. I got no less than TWO emails from Mizz Pitt herself, and
3. the stars at night are big and bright, even here in friggin Utah?
That's right, mother fuckers, I can't be.
So I won't be.
...and...you can't make me...? (or something)
I am not currently on speaking terms with Janis Joplin right now.
Freedom is NOT just another word for nothing left to lose.
It's not.
She's just plain wrong.
So that's why I'm avoiding her.
That, and the fact that she's a smidge on the un-alive side.
But mostly it's the disagreement.
I think summer vacation lasts way too long.
I think my kids are more ready for school to start than I am.
I think it's cool to find out you're hotter than...someone you've never met, but feel an intense sense of competiveness with.
(fuuuuuuuuuuck. I just ended my sentence with a preposition...but that reminds me of two things: one, Zach Braff is back to regular blogging and you should check out his words, and two, um...oh yes, he recommended Talladega Nights, which reminded me that I might not have bothered to do so as yet. If not, consider it recommended; if so, consider it rerecommended...and add another word to the list of words I've made up)
Had a great workout today.
Am looking forward to getting into a good routine when our respective schools start.
Love starting sentences with a verb.
Wondering if it's as unpleasant as ending with a preposition...
Oh, for the record, the "hotter than" comment above is in reference to someone who is connected to me in real life, not on the internet, so don't go getting all, "god, she's cocky. And she is NOT hotter than me!" on me.
If this reads like I'm on speed, I apologize.
AND you can kiss my ass.
I figure that keeps the balance in my universe...
haaa....that was a bit of a joke.
Sort of a private joke--
between me, myself, and I.
A pretty hot three-way, if I do say so.
Ok, so I just deleted the saddest piece of shit I've ever posted here.
Well, that's a bit of an overstatement--
I post sad shit all the time, so who can really be bothered to rank each post??
But you get the idea.
I took it down because it was bringing me down.
And when those one guys from the 70s use their progressive rock vibes to beg you not to bring them down, it's hard to rationalize doing so in spite of their sexiness.
Right?
Who the fuck sings that song anyway?
And would the reference have been even a small percentage cooler if I had thrown in the band name rather than just a vague description?
...didn't think so.
The point is, how can I be expected to be down in the dumps when,
a. hubby brought home Rumbi,
b. I got no less than TWO emails from Mizz Pitt herself, and
3. the stars at night are big and bright, even here in friggin Utah?
That's right, mother fuckers, I can't be.
So I won't be.
...and...you can't make me...? (or something)
I am not currently on speaking terms with Janis Joplin right now.
Freedom is NOT just another word for nothing left to lose.
It's not.
She's just plain wrong.
So that's why I'm avoiding her.
That, and the fact that she's a smidge on the un-alive side.
But mostly it's the disagreement.
I think summer vacation lasts way too long.
I think my kids are more ready for school to start than I am.
I think it's cool to find out you're hotter than...someone you've never met, but feel an intense sense of competiveness with.
(fuuuuuuuuuuck. I just ended my sentence with a preposition...but that reminds me of two things: one, Zach Braff is back to regular blogging and you should check out his words, and two, um...oh yes, he recommended Talladega Nights, which reminded me that I might not have bothered to do so as yet. If not, consider it recommended; if so, consider it rerecommended...and add another word to the list of words I've made up)
Had a great workout today.
Am looking forward to getting into a good routine when our respective schools start.
Love starting sentences with a verb.
Wondering if it's as unpleasant as ending with a preposition...
Oh, for the record, the "hotter than" comment above is in reference to someone who is connected to me in real life, not on the internet, so don't go getting all, "god, she's cocky. And she is NOT hotter than me!" on me.
If this reads like I'm on speed, I apologize.
AND you can kiss my ass.
I figure that keeps the balance in my universe...
Just back from dinner with a friend...
"the" friend, sorta.
I mean, I have several very close, very dear friends, but she has been my friend for
gulp
18 years.
And I have 2 friends I've known longer (a frightening 25 years each!!!), but they are both elsewhere in the country and less a part of my daily life.
So that's what that means.
The point is, it's her birthday Friday so we had to celebrate.
With lobster and wine and tiramisu and calamari (no, probably NOT in that order, fuckwit) and so much talking that I'm pretty sure I have laryngitis.
Good.
Goooood times.
She is a good sounding board because she is so level-headed, and yet allows for my way to be good, too.
Does that make sense?
Anyway.
It was really nice.
(and could I possibly use "good" a few more times??? Good god.)
And I am finally remembering to be excited for the start of a new school year--
I shall have some free time and my darling children shall have some mental stimulation,
and I shall have some mental stimulation,
and all will be well.
Did I mention my sailing class?
Yes, in Utah.
Yes, I find that slightly repulsive, but I can live with it.
It's a full moon.
Last night it was blinding me, as I tossed
and as I turned.
Since Hawaii, I can't seem to sleep before 2 am; pesky time zones.
I think my new year's resolutions will be this:
(what? it's a new school year!)
1. stop eating so much
2. be consistent with your workouts you slacker-ass
3. live the best life I can live and let the chips fall where they may
Yup.
That's it.
My blogging groove has been
way
the fuck
off
lately.
For months and months, actually.
I think I started writing for an audience...
and that's never a good thing.
For a long while I was writing for me and loving the audience--
it was an exhibitionist thing, like, we don't BLOG because we don't want anyone to read, right??
That's retarded, of course we don't.
But I somehow stopped feeling comfortable just letting it all hang out.
I know, you probably couldn't tell.
(picture me sticking my tongue out at you, all Maori warrior styles.)
(Oh! speaking of which: watch A&E's reality show about Gene Simmons)
But it's true: I became inhibited.
I'm not sure why, nor am I in the mood (at this moment) to dissect exactly why and/or how that happened.
But I'm going to work on it.
I guess that's another resolution.
So what I meant there was that I am censoring myself for my audience, not so much that I'm writing FOR an audience...
more like I'm not-writing FOR an audience.
Ugh.
fuck.
Why in the name of baby jesus do I consider myself skilled at communication???
I should be smacked.
(yes, there. yes, like THAT. Pervert.)
Ok.
To bed for me.
And no, you can't come with me.
Well...
I mean, I have several very close, very dear friends, but she has been my friend for
gulp
18 years.
And I have 2 friends I've known longer (a frightening 25 years each!!!), but they are both elsewhere in the country and less a part of my daily life.
So that's what that means.
The point is, it's her birthday Friday so we had to celebrate.
With lobster and wine and tiramisu and calamari (no, probably NOT in that order, fuckwit) and so much talking that I'm pretty sure I have laryngitis.
Good.
Goooood times.
She is a good sounding board because she is so level-headed, and yet allows for my way to be good, too.
Does that make sense?
Anyway.
It was really nice.
(and could I possibly use "good" a few more times??? Good god.)
And I am finally remembering to be excited for the start of a new school year--
I shall have some free time and my darling children shall have some mental stimulation,
and I shall have some mental stimulation,
and all will be well.
Did I mention my sailing class?
Yes, in Utah.
Yes, I find that slightly repulsive, but I can live with it.
It's a full moon.
Last night it was blinding me, as I tossed
and as I turned.
Since Hawaii, I can't seem to sleep before 2 am; pesky time zones.
I think my new year's resolutions will be this:
(what? it's a new school year!)
1. stop eating so much
2. be consistent with your workouts you slacker-ass
3. live the best life I can live and let the chips fall where they may
Yup.
That's it.
My blogging groove has been
way
the fuck
off
lately.
For months and months, actually.
I think I started writing for an audience...
and that's never a good thing.
For a long while I was writing for me and loving the audience--
it was an exhibitionist thing, like, we don't BLOG because we don't want anyone to read, right??
That's retarded, of course we don't.
But I somehow stopped feeling comfortable just letting it all hang out.
I know, you probably couldn't tell.
(picture me sticking my tongue out at you, all Maori warrior styles.)
(Oh! speaking of which: watch A&E's reality show about Gene Simmons)
But it's true: I became inhibited.
I'm not sure why, nor am I in the mood (at this moment) to dissect exactly why and/or how that happened.
But I'm going to work on it.
I guess that's another resolution.
So what I meant there was that I am censoring myself for my audience, not so much that I'm writing FOR an audience...
more like I'm not-writing FOR an audience.
Ugh.
fuck.
Why in the name of baby jesus do I consider myself skilled at communication???
I should be smacked.
(yes, there. yes, like THAT. Pervert.)
Ok.
To bed for me.
And no, you can't come with me.
Well...
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Fantasy Friday Returns!
...and this time it's personal.
haaaaaaaa!
I was just driving along, and as I sat at one of a thousand red lights,
my thoughts wandered your way.
My eyes glazed over as I stared out the window, with images of you in
the way of all else.
I was picturing your face and saying over and over in my mind how sexy
I find you...
I was repeating those words to myself and growing wetter, there in
afternoon traffic.
I thought of what it would be like to be standing next to you, in
high, high heels, in a sheer and sexy dress--nothing underneath,
nipples poking hard
hard
hard
through thin fabric, being teased by it as much as by your presence.
You in leather.
Standing so close...
under an umbrella, maybe, or the edge of a roof, rain ripping through
the air around us.
My eyes almost closed as I sought to make these images more clear,
but the light turned green,
and I drove on.
One hand on the wheel...
one naughty little hand sliding up my naughty little shorts,
my breath coming fast as I thought of your shoulders, your back, your neck--
your eyes.
Your eyes,
piercing mine as surely as your tongue will breach my lips.
Your eyes,
wandering across my skin as surely as your fingers stroke my inner thigh,
Your eyes,
looking through the first layers of me, probing deeply, as surely as
your fingers probe the slick folds of me.
Yeah...
I thought a lot about your eyes.
I imagined how the first kiss would feel, that shivery, shakey anticipation--
and the fire it would unleash inside us both.
The whimpers and snarls as we fought to be closer, battling to become
each others' skin.
panting and pulsing, needing....
fuck, man!
I am dripping wet--
I guess....
I'll have to...
go
fuck
myself.
mmmmm....
I'll slide in two fingers while I close my eyes and stare into yours.
I'll slide them out, while I open my mouth and tilt back my head.
I'll press them back in--deeper--while I feel your body pressing against mine.
I'll slowly pull them out while I offer them to you...a taste?
I'll add a third finger and wish it was you.
I'll rub my palm against my clit with each inward thrust....
and keep telling myself your teeth will be grazing my neck
any
minute.
I'll moan out your name and try to slow down.
I'll breathe out your name and grope my own breasts.
I'll shout out your name and take myself....home........
Happy Tuesday boys and girls!
(almost as good as braless, right? *wink*)
haaaaaaaa!
I was just driving along, and as I sat at one of a thousand red lights,
my thoughts wandered your way.
My eyes glazed over as I stared out the window, with images of you in
the way of all else.
I was picturing your face and saying over and over in my mind how sexy
I find you...
I was repeating those words to myself and growing wetter, there in
afternoon traffic.
I thought of what it would be like to be standing next to you, in
high, high heels, in a sheer and sexy dress--nothing underneath,
nipples poking hard
hard
hard
through thin fabric, being teased by it as much as by your presence.
You in leather.
Standing so close...
under an umbrella, maybe, or the edge of a roof, rain ripping through
the air around us.
My eyes almost closed as I sought to make these images more clear,
but the light turned green,
and I drove on.
One hand on the wheel...
one naughty little hand sliding up my naughty little shorts,
my breath coming fast as I thought of your shoulders, your back, your neck--
your eyes.
Your eyes,
piercing mine as surely as your tongue will breach my lips.
Your eyes,
wandering across my skin as surely as your fingers stroke my inner thigh,
Your eyes,
looking through the first layers of me, probing deeply, as surely as
your fingers probe the slick folds of me.
Yeah...
I thought a lot about your eyes.
I imagined how the first kiss would feel, that shivery, shakey anticipation--
and the fire it would unleash inside us both.
The whimpers and snarls as we fought to be closer, battling to become
each others' skin.
panting and pulsing, needing....
fuck, man!
I am dripping wet--
I guess....
I'll have to...
go
fuck
myself.
mmmmm....
I'll slide in two fingers while I close my eyes and stare into yours.
I'll slide them out, while I open my mouth and tilt back my head.
I'll press them back in--deeper--while I feel your body pressing against mine.
I'll slowly pull them out while I offer them to you...a taste?
I'll add a third finger and wish it was you.
I'll rub my palm against my clit with each inward thrust....
and keep telling myself your teeth will be grazing my neck
any
minute.
I'll moan out your name and try to slow down.
I'll breathe out your name and grope my own breasts.
I'll shout out your name and take myself....home........
Happy Tuesday boys and girls!
(almost as good as braless, right? *wink*)
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Saturday blends into Sunday in Jet Lag Land
(here's what I wrote on the plane)
Start singing Motely Crue, fuckers, because I am, in fact, on my way!
(destination: home sweet home)
Har.
Yes, I think I'm funny.
Yes, I like blogging, even when I only have such rudimentary recording devices as a pen and some paper.
Whoa.
Stoneage, man.
And we're taxiing------
and-----------------------
LIFT OFF!!!!!!!!!
It is a rainy night here in this little dollop of the Pacific.
Good time to head back to the desert, eh?
Some of you may have heard my theory about Utah's magical borders, but if not, here's the summary:
when passing out of Utah, one immediately becomes 20% more attractive and 10% thinner.
It's scienece, it cannot be disputed.
However, I have just discovered a clause in this law--
Hawaii is actually an inversely proportional locaton:
20% uglier, 10% fatter upon entry.
Oh well.
That's the beauty of being over 30 and married: I don't have to compete anymore!
Our movies tonight are "Failure to Launch" and "Mission Impossible 3".,
I have been attempting a half-assed boycott of Tom Cruise and all of his by-products, but I think it's going to be a decent show, so what the hell.
So much for sticking to my guns!
and, hey, I couldn't get my guns through security anyway.
har.
Hey, did I mention how great Hawaii was?
We really had a picture perfect time.
Plenty of relaxation mixed in with incredible sights and adventures.
The snorkelling was nearly my favorite, but it's hard to choose.
Ok, time to listen to some tunes.
***************
Settling back into the daily grind.
Friends to catch up with, kids to re-train.
Will post pictures soon.
Maybe a fantasy later this week; it's written, just need to find the right day.
Start singing Motely Crue, fuckers, because I am, in fact, on my way!
(destination: home sweet home)
Har.
Yes, I think I'm funny.
Yes, I like blogging, even when I only have such rudimentary recording devices as a pen and some paper.
Whoa.
Stoneage, man.
And we're taxiing------
and-----------------------
LIFT OFF!!!!!!!!!
It is a rainy night here in this little dollop of the Pacific.
Good time to head back to the desert, eh?
Some of you may have heard my theory about Utah's magical borders, but if not, here's the summary:
when passing out of Utah, one immediately becomes 20% more attractive and 10% thinner.
It's scienece, it cannot be disputed.
However, I have just discovered a clause in this law--
Hawaii is actually an inversely proportional locaton:
20% uglier, 10% fatter upon entry.
Oh well.
That's the beauty of being over 30 and married: I don't have to compete anymore!
Our movies tonight are "Failure to Launch" and "Mission Impossible 3".,
I have been attempting a half-assed boycott of Tom Cruise and all of his by-products, but I think it's going to be a decent show, so what the hell.
So much for sticking to my guns!
and, hey, I couldn't get my guns through security anyway.
har.
Hey, did I mention how great Hawaii was?
We really had a picture perfect time.
Plenty of relaxation mixed in with incredible sights and adventures.
The snorkelling was nearly my favorite, but it's hard to choose.
Ok, time to listen to some tunes.
***************
Settling back into the daily grind.
Friends to catch up with, kids to re-train.
Will post pictures soon.
Maybe a fantasy later this week; it's written, just need to find the right day.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Smile! You're on...
the short list for an emergency nose transplant???
I mean, REALLY.
Why do I not learn??
Close-ups of my face taken with my phone's shitty camera are NOT flattering.
To say the least.
Oh well.
I was happy, and now you know it so we can all clap our hands or some shit.
I mean, REALLY.
Why do I not learn??
Close-ups of my face taken with my phone's shitty camera are NOT flattering.
To say the least.
Oh well.
I was happy, and now you know it so we can all clap our hands or some shit.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Friday??
Yup, it's Friday.
One more day in paradise, then it's home to...
paradise.
Yeah, home is pretty damn good.
So I wrote a whole big, lovely post last night, but the internet connection got all fucked up, and I have been unable to post it.
Fortunately, I wrote it in Word--so it wouldn't get eaten.
UNfortunately, it is in Word--on my laptop--so I cannot post it from the computers in the hotel lobby.
Bah.
(so I'm an addict, SO WHAT??? WANNA FIGHT???)
Anyway, I'll post it when I can.
I'll post a couple crappy camera phone shots when I'm done here.
Oh, I tried to view the blog, but access was blocked due to the word "fucker".
Heh.
It actually tells you why it's blocked, so that's cool.
Or something.
Have I mentioned how much fun we're having?
Well we are.
We have a couple of things to do this afternoon, and then it's off to a dinner cruise.
Tomorrow we're going to go snorkelling again (more about that in the Great Lost Post Soon to Be Posted) and fly out in the evening.
I can't wait to see my leetle boys--they've been having fun without me, but I still want to gobble them up as soon as I step off the plane!
Kids rock.
Kid Rock does not.
Ha.
And now my phone rang and it is Becky so I am going to go talk to her.
(Ok, I finally got my in-room internet working, so I have been able to fix my fucked up template and add this pre-written post, the one I mentioned above)
I swallowed a lot of seawater today, but it was good.
Not as good as those special times when I’ve swallowed a lot of semen (or seamen, for that matter!), but not unpleasant.
I figured out snorkeling.
I did NOT figure out rear body sun block application.
I saw a couple of big ole sea turtles—
While I was sitting on the beach feeling grumpy about my husband’s location.
He had wandered off, and I was left alone again.
I felt the turtles were inviting me into the water, so I saddled up and plowed back in.
I know…
I’m such a baby.
I really do love adventures, but I figured out my problem:
I don’t much care to experience ANYTHING if there’s not someone there to share it with me.
I love people and connections with them more than any other thing on this earth.
(Except dessert, but that’s a given.)
So, as I swam out, he swam in, to show me the great coral he had discovered.
From then on, we swam together, holding hands and floating above the gorgeous seascape.
We saw some cool fish, nothing too spectacular.
The coral was pretty amazing, though, and the fish we did see were so pretty.
We were at a tiny beach somewhere…don’t know where.
I think it’s true, though, that Hanauma Bay isn’t the hot spot it used to be.
There are still tons of tourists going there, but we heard it isn’t the best spot.
Too crowded.
Which is so
Very
Sad.
I am, of course, in love with every last drop of this place.
We are scheming and dreaming of ways to live here.
We could get a 2 bedroom, 2 bath, 750 square foot condo for about a half mil.
Ha.
The price isn’t so bad, but the size….!!
I am not in love with the price of gas and milk here.
One of our tour guides told us why milk is so expensive here.
He said, “There is only one cow.”
And, conveniently, at that moment our bus passed a field containing one cow.
It was pretty damn funny.
8 bucks a gallon for milk, though??
Fuuuuck that.
Anyway.
Snorkeling was good, and we’re going to do more.
Let’s see, let’s see…
Only 2 days left.
Time sure does fly when all you’re doing is having fun.
Talked to the kids today.
They were hilarious, and are having a great time with grandma.
They are my little dears…and I can’t wait to see them.
I have had lots of dreamy dreams and thinky thoughts in this place.
One thought I had is of a partnership.
My best friend, J, and I need to write a particular series of books.
She is too busy writing her dissertation right now, but maybe I can talk her into it…
She would be the brains of the operation (duh, like did you catch my doctoral candidate hint??) and I would be the creative juice box.
Or something.
No, I’m not telling.
If I told you what her phD is going to be in, you’d figure it out pretty damn quick.
(that’s PDQ for you acronym lovers).
Oh, so there were these girls in our little group at the Polynesian Cultural Center
(yes, Mark, I know who runs the joint…it was still informative and entertaining, though! Hehe.)
Ok, back to the girls.
They were gorgeous.
Mr. husband had been asking me if I could tell what language they were speaking.
I knew it wasn’t French, and I knew it wasn’t Spanish, Italian, or German, but neither of us could pinpoint what it was.
When the guide asked them where they were from, they replied, “Holland,” and I said to myself, “Oh!! No wonder I couldn’t tell.”
Hubby then said, “So what language are they speaking?”
(and, yes, we were being discreet.)
I said, “Dutch.”
He said, “Not Holland—“
And I cut in with, “Hollandaise? Yes, they are quite the saucy little things.”
We are total dorks.
Anyway, I was pretty much mesmerized by them for the whole day.
And their lanky Irish companion was a lucky young man indeed.
I love people, have I mentioned that today?
I love watching them interact, and I love imagining what their stories are.
I love seeing the way he looked at each of the girls, and the way his bushy-haired friend seemed almost an after-thought to them all.
The way his smiles lit up the group, and the way theirs illuminated the entire island.
Their tan little legs and their laughter.
My other favorite moment of that day was when the singer guy at the luau invited all the couples who were honeymooning or who had an anniversary in August to come to the stage and dance together, there was a young lesbian couple among them.
Why was this so great?
Besides the fact that they were cute and obviously in love, it was particularly swell because the PCC is owned and operated by the great and abominable church itself: the Mormons!!!
Wooot!
The sweet lady next to me said, “Is that two…GIRLS??”
She seemed appalled.
I grinned at her and affirmed.
The guy sitting next to my husband had a giant “Y” on his hat.
My adorably unobservant husband started talking to me about how the church should sell BYU (the ‘Y’ represented on that guy’s hat) to the state so that they could do away with the atrocious Honor Code and just let it be a school, so that the scaredy cat mormons who love the safety of Provo would not flock there anymore and it could finally be thinned out to a less chokingly-high percentage of mormons in the population.
Whew.
That was a mouthful!!
I don’t even know if it was coherent, but I’m too lazy and/or apathetic to go back and check.
Good luck with that.
The point is, it made me chuckle.
And I thought I didn’t have anything to say??
Puh
Leeeeez.
Funny how certain words remind us of certain people, or certain eras.
Funny how life is never really fair.
Funny how promises are made and promises are broken—every second of every day.
No…not funny.
Sad, and yet hopeful.
Will I ever just be normal?
Do I even want to be….?
Nah, that second one’s easy: of course not.
But I wish I could stop wanting 43 different things all at the same time.
I wish I could stop wishing.
I wish…
I want a new tattoo.
But not until—
Not until.
Sorry to end on a somewhat melancholic note.
The sun is beginning to sink over the clear blue water.
And it is time to dress for dinner.
…I say that is if it’s a formal event.
A skirt and an un-bra-ed tank top will be my wardrobe.
Good.
Times.
One more day in paradise, then it's home to...
paradise.
Yeah, home is pretty damn good.
So I wrote a whole big, lovely post last night, but the internet connection got all fucked up, and I have been unable to post it.
Fortunately, I wrote it in Word--so it wouldn't get eaten.
UNfortunately, it is in Word--on my laptop--so I cannot post it from the computers in the hotel lobby.
Bah.
(so I'm an addict, SO WHAT??? WANNA FIGHT???)
Anyway, I'll post it when I can.
I'll post a couple crappy camera phone shots when I'm done here.
Oh, I tried to view the blog, but access was blocked due to the word "fucker".
Heh.
It actually tells you why it's blocked, so that's cool.
Or something.
Have I mentioned how much fun we're having?
Well we are.
We have a couple of things to do this afternoon, and then it's off to a dinner cruise.
Tomorrow we're going to go snorkelling again (more about that in the Great Lost Post Soon to Be Posted) and fly out in the evening.
I can't wait to see my leetle boys--they've been having fun without me, but I still want to gobble them up as soon as I step off the plane!
Kids rock.
Kid Rock does not.
Ha.
And now my phone rang and it is Becky so I am going to go talk to her.
(Ok, I finally got my in-room internet working, so I have been able to fix my fucked up template and add this pre-written post, the one I mentioned above)
I swallowed a lot of seawater today, but it was good.
Not as good as those special times when I’ve swallowed a lot of semen (or seamen, for that matter!), but not unpleasant.
I figured out snorkeling.
I did NOT figure out rear body sun block application.
I saw a couple of big ole sea turtles—
While I was sitting on the beach feeling grumpy about my husband’s location.
He had wandered off, and I was left alone again.
I felt the turtles were inviting me into the water, so I saddled up and plowed back in.
I know…
I’m such a baby.
I really do love adventures, but I figured out my problem:
I don’t much care to experience ANYTHING if there’s not someone there to share it with me.
I love people and connections with them more than any other thing on this earth.
(Except dessert, but that’s a given.)
So, as I swam out, he swam in, to show me the great coral he had discovered.
From then on, we swam together, holding hands and floating above the gorgeous seascape.
We saw some cool fish, nothing too spectacular.
The coral was pretty amazing, though, and the fish we did see were so pretty.
We were at a tiny beach somewhere…don’t know where.
I think it’s true, though, that Hanauma Bay isn’t the hot spot it used to be.
There are still tons of tourists going there, but we heard it isn’t the best spot.
Too crowded.
Which is so
Very
Sad.
I am, of course, in love with every last drop of this place.
We are scheming and dreaming of ways to live here.
We could get a 2 bedroom, 2 bath, 750 square foot condo for about a half mil.
Ha.
The price isn’t so bad, but the size….!!
I am not in love with the price of gas and milk here.
One of our tour guides told us why milk is so expensive here.
He said, “There is only one cow.”
And, conveniently, at that moment our bus passed a field containing one cow.
It was pretty damn funny.
8 bucks a gallon for milk, though??
Fuuuuck that.
Anyway.
Snorkeling was good, and we’re going to do more.
Let’s see, let’s see…
Only 2 days left.
Time sure does fly when all you’re doing is having fun.
Talked to the kids today.
They were hilarious, and are having a great time with grandma.
They are my little dears…and I can’t wait to see them.
I have had lots of dreamy dreams and thinky thoughts in this place.
One thought I had is of a partnership.
My best friend, J, and I need to write a particular series of books.
She is too busy writing her dissertation right now, but maybe I can talk her into it…
She would be the brains of the operation (duh, like did you catch my doctoral candidate hint??) and I would be the creative juice box.
Or something.
No, I’m not telling.
If I told you what her phD is going to be in, you’d figure it out pretty damn quick.
(that’s PDQ for you acronym lovers).
Oh, so there were these girls in our little group at the Polynesian Cultural Center
(yes, Mark, I know who runs the joint…it was still informative and entertaining, though! Hehe.)
Ok, back to the girls.
They were gorgeous.
Mr. husband had been asking me if I could tell what language they were speaking.
I knew it wasn’t French, and I knew it wasn’t Spanish, Italian, or German, but neither of us could pinpoint what it was.
When the guide asked them where they were from, they replied, “Holland,” and I said to myself, “Oh!! No wonder I couldn’t tell.”
Hubby then said, “So what language are they speaking?”
(and, yes, we were being discreet.)
I said, “Dutch.”
He said, “Not Holland—“
And I cut in with, “Hollandaise? Yes, they are quite the saucy little things.”
We are total dorks.
Anyway, I was pretty much mesmerized by them for the whole day.
And their lanky Irish companion was a lucky young man indeed.
I love people, have I mentioned that today?
I love watching them interact, and I love imagining what their stories are.
I love seeing the way he looked at each of the girls, and the way his bushy-haired friend seemed almost an after-thought to them all.
The way his smiles lit up the group, and the way theirs illuminated the entire island.
Their tan little legs and their laughter.
My other favorite moment of that day was when the singer guy at the luau invited all the couples who were honeymooning or who had an anniversary in August to come to the stage and dance together, there was a young lesbian couple among them.
Why was this so great?
Besides the fact that they were cute and obviously in love, it was particularly swell because the PCC is owned and operated by the great and abominable church itself: the Mormons!!!
Wooot!
The sweet lady next to me said, “Is that two…GIRLS??”
She seemed appalled.
I grinned at her and affirmed.
The guy sitting next to my husband had a giant “Y” on his hat.
My adorably unobservant husband started talking to me about how the church should sell BYU (the ‘Y’ represented on that guy’s hat) to the state so that they could do away with the atrocious Honor Code and just let it be a school, so that the scaredy cat mormons who love the safety of Provo would not flock there anymore and it could finally be thinned out to a less chokingly-high percentage of mormons in the population.
Whew.
That was a mouthful!!
I don’t even know if it was coherent, but I’m too lazy and/or apathetic to go back and check.
Good luck with that.
The point is, it made me chuckle.
And I thought I didn’t have anything to say??
Puh
Leeeeez.
Funny how certain words remind us of certain people, or certain eras.
Funny how life is never really fair.
Funny how promises are made and promises are broken—every second of every day.
No…not funny.
Sad, and yet hopeful.
Will I ever just be normal?
Do I even want to be….?
Nah, that second one’s easy: of course not.
But I wish I could stop wanting 43 different things all at the same time.
I wish I could stop wishing.
I wish…
I want a new tattoo.
But not until—
Not until.
Sorry to end on a somewhat melancholic note.
The sun is beginning to sink over the clear blue water.
And it is time to dress for dinner.
…I say that is if it’s a formal event.
A skirt and an un-bra-ed tank top will be my wardrobe.
Good.
Times.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Is this thing on?
Ok, here’s the thing:
(and we’re taking a break from my vacation for just a moment, so hold on)
our president should not be allowed on television.
I would like to think he’s not as big of a FUCKING MORON as he appears to be,
Or at least I would like to think that there is a really good reason that his “people” aren’t keeping him from looking like such a FUCKING MORON.
One theory is this: most Americans can relate to a moron better than a Yale graduate, so his PR people are playing up the bumbling idiot side of things.
I know…
It’s a stretch—like pilates for the rings around Saturn—but it could be!
Ok.
Sorry.
That’s just what happens when I watch The Daily Show.
So today we went to the mountains and rode 4 wheelers (ATVs) and got all muddy and saw some amazing scenery.
We got back late this afternoon and were ready for some low
key
time.
We fit in some good, quality adult interaction and a bit of a nap.
Then we ordered room service and have been in bed ever since.
In the morning, we are going on a snorkel adventure.
Oh…I forgot the story of the day from Monday.
We got boogie boards and spent some time chasing waves.
It was mostly really fun, but after a couple of hours, I got stuck.
I was tired and ready to head in to shore and I couldn’t do it.
I actually got sea sick…
And I couldn’t maneuver the stupid ass board to shore.
I know…it probably sounds pretty lame.
I’m a decent swimmer, I am.
But I am not accustomed to the whole board thing—
And my arms are too short to paddle, so I was trying to lie on the thing and just kick.
Somehow, the waves were not washing me into shore.
Either that or I was waaay further out than I thought I was.
At one point I landed in the middle of a bunch of surfers.
They weren’t terribly impressed.
They weren’t locals, though, so I didn’t care.
I did start getting a little freaked out when I was about to puke and felt stranded and then I saw SOMETHING in the water—you know my brain had to make it a shark, but it was probably a rock or some fucking seaweed…
Blah.
Just in the nick of time, mr. husband appeared out of nowhere.
He told me to try just swimming while holding the leash of my boogie board.
That worked better, but it still took
For
Ev
Er.
I’m such a fucking loser.
Oh well.
It was really fun and I love little slices of drama.
Heh.
I’m sure I have better stories, but I can’t focus right now.
(and we’re taking a break from my vacation for just a moment, so hold on)
our president should not be allowed on television.
I would like to think he’s not as big of a FUCKING MORON as he appears to be,
Or at least I would like to think that there is a really good reason that his “people” aren’t keeping him from looking like such a FUCKING MORON.
One theory is this: most Americans can relate to a moron better than a Yale graduate, so his PR people are playing up the bumbling idiot side of things.
I know…
It’s a stretch—like pilates for the rings around Saturn—but it could be!
Ok.
Sorry.
That’s just what happens when I watch The Daily Show.
So today we went to the mountains and rode 4 wheelers (ATVs) and got all muddy and saw some amazing scenery.
We got back late this afternoon and were ready for some low
key
time.
We fit in some good, quality adult interaction and a bit of a nap.
Then we ordered room service and have been in bed ever since.
In the morning, we are going on a snorkel adventure.
Oh…I forgot the story of the day from Monday.
We got boogie boards and spent some time chasing waves.
It was mostly really fun, but after a couple of hours, I got stuck.
I was tired and ready to head in to shore and I couldn’t do it.
I actually got sea sick…
And I couldn’t maneuver the stupid ass board to shore.
I know…it probably sounds pretty lame.
I’m a decent swimmer, I am.
But I am not accustomed to the whole board thing—
And my arms are too short to paddle, so I was trying to lie on the thing and just kick.
Somehow, the waves were not washing me into shore.
Either that or I was waaay further out than I thought I was.
At one point I landed in the middle of a bunch of surfers.
They weren’t terribly impressed.
They weren’t locals, though, so I didn’t care.
I did start getting a little freaked out when I was about to puke and felt stranded and then I saw SOMETHING in the water—you know my brain had to make it a shark, but it was probably a rock or some fucking seaweed…
Blah.
Just in the nick of time, mr. husband appeared out of nowhere.
He told me to try just swimming while holding the leash of my boogie board.
That worked better, but it still took
For
Ev
Er.
I’m such a fucking loser.
Oh well.
It was really fun and I love little slices of drama.
Heh.
I’m sure I have better stories, but I can’t focus right now.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
You have new Picture Mail!
Waiting for a canoe show to start. got drenched earlier. having fun and ideas...
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