Saturday, December 29, 2007

Why do I only come here when my thoughts are churning like a tornado on crack???

Oh yeah...
maybe it's because I think best with my fingers.
It's not very convenient; especially for verbal communications.
Why do I keep trying so hard to fuck up my budding relationship???
Answer: probably because I'm not really ready for a new Relationship.
In case you hadn't noticed, it takes a lot of work to sustain one of those over time.
Yeah, I know, it's a shocker.
A fucking new idea, man.
And I'm pretty much tapped on from that last one...
but my reserves are building and I know what it takes, but maybe that's the problem...?
I know too well what it takes...I get tired just thinking about it.

The thing is...
I know I'm worth more of his attention, I just know it.
And I know he digs me.
He really does.
Yes, that is what I would like to scream at him.
But I don't.
I just smile and nod and play Pleasant/Polite/PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE.
Hey, Lisa?
Speak your mind, you fucking moron, tell him it is NOT OK that he is never available.
(yes, I'm chastising myself here--stand back)
But no, I don't.
I wait until I've hung up and the tears jump out of my eyes and the sobs leap out of my throat and I find myself sitting on the floor in my pitch-dark bathroom, the traffic on my emotional highway merging from sad into angry.
And then, when anger arrives I text him.
Because, don't forget, I'M PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE as a motherfucker.
I don't even know what I want anymore.
I want him.
And I know he wants me, but Jesus hairy ball sack Christ!
Why didn't someone warn me that dating is PURE, CRYSTALIZED HELL ON EARTH????
God dammit.
Give me back my shitty and unfulfilling marriage cuz I can't take this torture anymore!!!!
I'll call you tomorrow when I'm not so tired. We should talk.
Uh, yeah. Are ya sure??
I mean, technically there are two hours and 31 minutes left in today, the "tomorrow" you mentioned, but no.
Not a word from you.
My hair happens to look so fucking great right now that I'm considering heading out to the neighborhood bar just to let someone else look at me, I mean, they probably don't deserve to be graced with my beauty, but shit, this kind of hair day doesn't happen felt redundant.
But whatever.
Not that this is about my hair, or my appearance at all, but still.
At least I have a date for New Year's Eve.
A guy friend who wants to date me...but ya know...I'm hung up on this other fella so it's hard to see him as more than a friend.
It's hard to see anyone else that asks me out as anything but a weak and unsatisfactory replacement for this other fella.
But I guess that's what I get.
That's my punishment for expecting divorce to make me happier.
Divorce is supposed to make you miserable, right??
So bring it the fuck on, universe--
I'm ready for your worst!


I just want to quiet the inner turmoil.
Feed the demons, etc.
But...that's not what I want.
I want to be happy, I want to be in love.
But maybe the two are mutually exclusive for me, for now.
And maybe this is why I have avoided being in love for the past 14 years...
Because, goddammit, opening oneself up to love deeply just opens oneself up to excruciating pain.
What happened to that Embracing All Emotions attitude that I adopted to nobly face my life as an "artist"?
It's hiding somewhere far away and refuses to grace me with its humble presence and I am cringing here in the bright light of Reality while waiting for the screaming masses of Crazy to descend upon me, as they would if I were really an artist.

...time for a check-in with the Bright Side Seekers committe, the Silver Panty Liner Gals--
Tomorrow or the next day I should be receiving my new painting.
And today I got a $200 check from Google for my Ads, so even though their very content offends my fickle nature, I will cash that check and party it up!
Happy New Year, indeed!

And now, because I feel it roll off my tongue, may I present:

Poetry for pussies--

Put something in me
Fill me, fuck me
Make me ache
Lick me raw
Shave me smooth.
But do it quick,
cuz I'm tired and sick
of you.

Did you think I was going to be all figurative and metaphorical and shit??
Nah; that stuff's for pussies.

I hereby set myself free of all my angst and all my expectations!
Tonight is mine, tomorrow y'all can come back of you must...
For tonight I choose happiness.
That boy be damned--
he's as scared of commitment as I am and we will find our way soon enough.
Because he...he fits inside my soul like I fit in that corset he loves
and he fits inside my body like sex was invented just to define the phenomenon of Us.
...our limbs intertwining and responding and writhing and---
Good thing I replaced the batteries in that one thing...

(yes, I'm as glad to see the Crazy Bitch known as the Bored Housewife as the rest of you...maybe my fatigued and perpetually-on-the-verge-of-tears self will be entertaining to someone...)

P.S. I just composed an "I miss you" email to the Soon To Be Ex...fortunately the tears and snot factory sent me running for tissues which gave me the chance to come to my senses before sending it. Gah. I think this calls for getting drunk and fucking a stranger, whadda ya say? Ok, fine. I'll just binge eat.
P.S.S. My head feels like a block of cheese that has been shot through with a machine gun; no, not Swiss Cheese--the bullets ripping through fleshiness is an important part of the image! The swiss are far too uninvolved to convey my feelings with accuracy. They're terrible marksmen, too.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

Head, heart--scrambled

The crowded smoky room
can't breathe
thoughts pounding too loudly against their bone cage.
The cold air against cheeks
feet crunching through yesterday's still-frozen snow
making tracks in this abandoned Main St of Small Town America
So dark, so still
Thoughts begin to assemble into an order, digestible, comprehensible.
The heart still clenches together, refusing to break.
Too much recent scarring, too many fresh lacerations--
broken and rebroken and as misshapen as a veteran boxer's nose.

All I want (I tell the stars) is for you to reach out
just a little more often.
Let me love you before the dam bursts and all my love crashes over you in seething waves of anger, as hot as the tears
that sear
their way down my cold cheeks.

Everyone wants to love me but you.
And then I almost laugh at my drama--
you do, too, but you know how powerful it will be, how strong and unbreakable, unshakable, un
it will be.

I should just let me heart finish breaking for that man I failed.
That man I never loved right...even if my failure was aided and abetted by his failure and even if we both know this is the right decision, but sometimes I can't believe he's not myfamily anymore he's not my partner (no matter how deficient) and I just want all the sadness out and I know it's almost all gone, I've come far--fast, but I just want the blood to stop pumping straight out of my heart, leaking into my respiratory system, making it so that I can't breathe without choking on my own broken heart.

When tears flow over my neck the salt leaves a red rash...
So hot.

I feel like I am nearing the summit of this mountain, so
When I reach the top, will B. be there?
I believe with all of my heart's broken strength that he will.
But if he's not, I'll be ok.
There are so many fish in this sea that I'm getting sushi envy.

That was intense.
I wasn't exactly expecting so much to come out, but it just sort of poured over me.
I hope it was coherant.
...mostly I hope that my words continue to flow
and grow
more beautiful as my wounds heal.

I am still lighter and happier than I've been in years, even with all the leaking of sadness...
So that is why I can smile as I wipe the tears from my itchy neck and feel as comfortable and settled into this life of mine as if it was my destiny.
Oh wait...

Merry Christmas, anyone who's out there.
Let's all be thankful for as many things as we can possibly think of today.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

No more words--

Tell me you love me while you're lookin' away!

I finally swung by the bar to drop off a thank you gift for the artist who sketched me...a few weeks ago, now.
Feels like forever, but I guess it was just 2 weeks ago.
I had just missed him, but the bartender took the little red gift bag with 3 packs of his brand of cigarettes, a sheaf of paper with words from this lil ole blog, and a bill, folded into a bow-tie...
I wish I could commission one of his bronze sculptures...of anything--it wouldn't matter.
The one I've seen is imprinted in my mind, the power of the lines, the grace of the shaping!
I'll have him draw the kids sometime, for my Mother's Day gift to myself, maybe.

And speaking of my growing art collection!
I won a silent auction on a piece from my favorite painter's gallery!
She is one of the dearest human beings on record, and has a soul as lovely as its shell.
Not to mention the way she makes a simple painting come alive--
when it slips along your optic nerve it leaves a trail of glitter
winding through the pathways of your heart and that indefinable place inside where giddiness is conceived,
the images she imagines slip inside you and dance like whole tribe of fertility gods for your own imagination.

And it'll be delivered from Phoenix next week.
I will be breathless til then.
I will tear pictures of my own dear chidren off the wall, because I already know where this gorgeous piece

Graffiti I left on the table
at the bar...
with a pencil:

used to come so fast I tripped over them.
Now they lie behind a rock wall,
Writer's Block isn't even in my lexicon.
But it should be tattooed across my forehead,
or one letter on each knuckle--
a prison tat
for my liberated soul.

And now I'll go shower off the smokiness.
And I snuggle into that giant bed of mine,
and maybe...
I'll dare to dream of the time when I can dare to dream of the time...
when I'll be in love again.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

This just doesn't seem real right now

I mean...
I had my path before me, ya know?
It wasn't the path I wanted, but it was tehre, just the same.
And now it's all gone and I'm happy with my new path, but sometimes I miss the comfort of familiarity.
Sometimes I miss the easy life.

I was just putting jam on a hunk of bread (jam I made, in fact) when I realized that one of the things the SoonToBe never recognized or appreciated about me was that I am considerate.
There are many things about which others have noted, things I value, that he spent 9 years overlooking.
I'm sure there are plenty of things about him that I didn't value as I should have.
But I tried awfully hard to find all the good in him that I could.

I'm just feeling a little weirded out about the fact that Christmas without him will be happier than Christmas was when I was with him--because he was a Grinchy ole Scrooge.
And I have fun presents to open and great friends and family to be around--
and a babysitter for New Year's Eve!
...and a faaaantastic date to spend it with, if I'm lucky.
(Luck, in this case, equals his work schedule cooperating)

I apologize for the touch of a downer, there.
I am fighting off a coldy-flu thing and have spent the last couple of hours apathetically watching some unaccountably good soft-porn.
Ah, wait--I can suddenly account for the apparent quality!
See: fighting off illness.
Seriously, though, I watched an episode of 30 Rock and laughed my pubes off and then somehow I stumbled onto Skin-amax...
I can't be bothered to be aroused by it most of the time, and tonight's no exception.
I should write that stuff.

Ok, that's enough of a schizophrenic post for one night, don't you think?

Monday, December 17, 2007

A gnawing orneriness seeps into me, and out of me...

I feel hungry, but I just ate
I feel tired, but I just slept...
well, no, actually I didn't, but I have been lethargic all day.
The kids won't stop talking, but it's happy talk so I can't actually do anything about it but participate.
We had s'mores for dessert, because someone gave them a S'mores Maker.
It was fun, but my head still hurts.
Maybe I just need to take a long bath--
but no, that thought makes me almost snarl.
I would blame PMS, but we're in the Post stages, and I learned at the age of 13 that the P stands for Pre...
I was a little confused and was complaining of a headache, trying to brag that I had joined the ranks of women, and my best friend's mother asked some time line clarifying questions,
leading me to throw out the word "Post",
and then
she laughed her loud and full laugh at me--
the P stands for Pre, Lisa!
I love taking little strolls down Memory Lane in the middle of a huricaine.

I think I had things to say,
but now I don't.
Life is good, just feel unaccountably icky right at the moment.
Kids are being so loud I can't even remember why I wanted to post earlier...
something about a follow up to my last post...?
Oh yeah--
I got a universal remote and my tv woes are over!
So yay for not buying a $500 tv to replace a $6 remote.
Good girl.

Friday, December 14, 2007

So does that mean you do surgery on dummies?

That's right.
My best friend successfully defended her disertation yesterday and she is offically
Dr. G!
I am soooo proud of her.
But did you ever think of how hard it is to explain that to a couple of 7 year olds who are hearing about it for the first time??
"So does she work at our hospital?"
...uh, no. She's not that kind of doctor...
So after a few minutes of explaining that she has a doctorate in Philosphy, which is a PhD, rather than a doctorate in medicine (MD) and that makes her sort of an expert in her field rather than what they know of as A Doctor...we were back at square one.
But I still laughed in a barking and exuberant manner--
and, giving up, I just said, "Yes. That's what it means. She does surgery on dummies."
How hard do kids rock??

I am so ready for the weekend.
I finsihed my finals yesterday and then went to the aforementioned defense, and to celebrate after, but I still don't feel like I've had a moment to catch my breath.
I feel like I've been running at top speed for weeks...maybe months.
That's ok.
It's all good.
I'm so ready to relax that I haven't even had the slightest desire to go out tonight.
I am considering it...
Unless I hear from The Boy, I will be happy to stay in, maybe catch up on my tv shows.
That reminds me.
I had to switch to a new satellite provider after ten years with the other one, because the Soon To Be Ex decided to turn off his and our bills were linked, and long story short, the other provider was offering a much better deal.
All went according to plan until I tried to change the channel on my tv so I could program my new remote...
see...I have no remote for the tv, but my old satellite remote was programmed to operate it.
Being the considerate fella that I am, I returned the receiver and remotes to the Soon to Be immediately, so that he could do what he needed to do.
I'm sure you're thinking, "Can't you just change the channel manually?"
Well, one would THINK.
But, no.
The Channel up/down buttons scroll through precisely TWO channels: 20 and 14.
What the FUCK IS THAT???
I've checked the on-screen menu and everything, but there is no way to put it on channel 3, which is the channel the satellite guy told me I needed to use for the satellite...and to program the remote.
I have no way to watch tv in my bedroom.
I can watch DVDs, but not tv.
It makes my chest want to growl.
I keep doing everything I can to make this go smoothly for that Asshole and what does he do?
Tells my kids highly inappropriate things, spends his whole visitation weekend ignoring them, and pulling rugs out from under me left and right.
Could it be a hell of a lot worse?
It absolutely could.
I just wish I would learn to stop trying so hard to make everyone else's life easier.
Cuz no one seems to give me the same courtesy.

....would you like a glass for that, or do you just want to pop the cork and chug it?

Cuz, actually, the satellite guy went out of his way to make sure I had the remotes I needed and the tv setup that I preferred, even though it was out of the ordinary.

I got all my Christmas packages in the mail today!
And priority mail was only a little more, so they'll all be there in time for the holiday!!
I just hope I addressed them all correctly...heh.

Later, fuckers.

Saturday, December 08, 2007


Don't tell anyone I'm here...
I just really felt like being this Me today.

I love the way I feeeeel
when I write here.
This is where I became myself, where I expelled all of my neuroses and fantasies from the corners of my soul, offering them to the world for examination.
My voice lost its dimension as I battled against the vise grip of my deteriorating marriage and I tried wearing other monikers, but none ever felt right.
So, I'll see how I feel about writing here...
I miss it.
I miss the way I felt here.

Here I am, coming quickly upon the 5 year anniversary of the start of this blog, and I am ready to return to it.
I am no longer a wife (well, technically I am, but in reality, the term 'Wife' has been fading from the place it was etched on the epidermis of my soul for quite a long time).
I am no longer bored--not only am I in college full time, but now I have joined the ranks of the toughest broads in America: Singler Mothers!
We rock, girls, just so you know.
Anyway, the point is:
I am neither a wife, nor bored.
So I guess that just leaves House...
Can I go by "House"??
...I am not British, I don't have a limp, nor do I look sexy with stubble on my chin.
I also was not in Stuart Little and I can be witty at times, but I tend not to be cruel with wit, especially to people who are sick or dying.
I guess House is out.
I could be the Post-Marital Syndrome Bored housewife...
the PMS BHW!
Ok...well, I'll think of a name.
Maybe I'll stick with Lucky Star or Back in Black,
but this site...
kids, there's just something about this place, ya know?
It feels like home.
I could be the Un-Bored House(un)Wife...?
I'll find something that feels right, I'm sure.

Today is a lovely, warmly snowing day.
B. is enjoying his first day of snowboarding and if I close my eyes I can feel the wind rushing past him, and see his grin--it's the easiest way to imagine him since he is such a smiler...
Insert dopey, smiling Siiiigh......

I am falling, but not as gently as the snow.
I am falling haltingly, giddily.
Lurching forward, I fall into this great, gaping crevice in the mountain...

What a week, what a month--
what a bloody YEAR!
I am going to celebrate the end of this year with the fire of new life burning through each cell of my body.
Time to start again, and ready or not, new year,

Life is good.
I have reached a new level of comfort with this life of mine.

Wow...the snow is falling in giant clumps, so soft and light.
It's going to pile up fast...
tomorrow will be some fucking awesome skiing!
...for people who know HOW to ski.
I will plan on taking a lesson as soon as I get there.
(And remind me to check to see when my Linguistics final is due...)

Life is one big ball of chaos, here, but it's a shiny, pretty one.
D. is moving away today,
Je. is moving away tomorrow...
Ja. is coming tomorrow to visit for the week, and then it's almost Christmas
and then it's New Year's Eve...
And 2008 will be here and we get to have a new President!

Wine and deep thoughts,
karaoke and deep laughs.
Dancing and pool--
the guy who used only one hand, because his skill is so refined that it isn't fair otherwise.
There was the karaoke dude,
with news of his far away friend.
There was my date, and his passion...
And there was the moment He told me something that made me shiver.
And on the way home he dozed a little and slid his hand down my pants and the music was soft and soothing and then we got to my bed and he awoke with a vengeance--
hours and hours of vengeance, in fact.
At one point I smiled into his glowing face and said, "No one else on the whole planet had sex this good tonight. There's no way."

You could say the divorce really agrees with me.
Also, my kitten is sitting on my desk looking out the window watching the snow...
it's so cute!
Here, I'll show you: