Personal reprieve

Yeah, so I know my interests may seem a bit blah lately. No, I didn't age 30 years overnight, though sometimes it feels that way. But hell, if the chicks my age can get all into their knitting projects, I can get into flowers and birds and other token grandmotherly activities, can't I? Come on now.

Sometimes the best thing I can do to keep myself from worrying and obsessing about the state of my life is to just distract myself with some little happy thing like this. It at least helps to work towards balancing out all the negativity I have. I don't know why it can be so hard for me to just feel happy without feeling guilty. Somewhere along the line I was given the idea that the only time you are worthy of happiness is if you have really truly suffered for it. Now, I can see where in some cases this is true but also how my mind has distorted it, making me constantly think things like I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be happy. It's an endless struggle, and somedays I'm better at fighting it than others. But hell if I'm gonna just give up.

In Bloom

Look at my wet peonies

Anyone wanna throw out a guess on what these are? For now I will have to call them Mysterious Pink Towers of Fuzzybuds. Update: Dictamnus albus

And these... might be called baptisia, but I shall call them Purple Nurples, because that makes me giggle.

Clematis, or as I call it - ooh, pretty flowering climbing viney thing! Also has the honor of being my new profile pic ('bout time I had one again, eh?)

This bunner-bun sure likes hanging around us. Aww, I think I caught him or her in mid-chew. The bunny was only mildly interested in our attention but you know, bunnies will just do their bunny kind of things.

Don't tell me it was the best movie ever

I really hated to do it, but when Netflix asked what we thought of our recently returned movie War of the Worlds I had to click "no opinion".

By no opinion, I meant that embarrassingly enough this movie sat in a drawer for 2 or 3 months and we still couldn't convince ourselves that it was worth watching, yet we thought someday we might possibly be in the mood for it. And now it's on cable, anyway. So for the first time ever, I sent a movie back without watching it. So that was a waste, but hey - no late fees, eh?

Other movies that were close to sharing the same fate, but eventually did get watched were The Day After Tomorrow and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory which were both pretty disappointing - well, maybe not disappointing since we didn't have that high of hopes for them anyway. But we at least reluctantly gave ourselves the "let's just watch the fucking movie and get it over with" pep talk those times.

Yes, I am aware that you choose the movies that they send you.

A shout out to the ladies

Uh oh, folks. I'm feeling sappy and hormonal today, but I just gotta say something. So I'll just say it and then we won't have to be embarrassed* or bring it up again. It's just... damnit, I LOVE you women bloggers**! Aww, shucks. I know I don't really know you, but when I read your words sometimes I feel like I do. I find myself saying "Yes! Exactly!" or even at times getting a bit teary-eyed. I feel happy for you when things are going well, and I want to be there for you when they're not. When we share things with each other, I feel this bond that's been painfully missing from my real, day to day life. Sometimes your emails remind me of the special feeling I'd get when being passed a carefully folded note that reads "For your eyes only!" and that just totally brightens my day. Ya see, a lot of times I feel so disconnected and different from women my age. But you all, you just make me happy to be a woman. So, thank you internet girls. Thank you for spilling your guts and sharing your hearts. Keep on keepin it real.



* I won't even make my vaguely bisexual references this time - well, unless you want me to
** not to say the guys aren't pretty damn awesome and worthy of props too

Night Flowers

Heh-lo? Eef you squeent jou can see we are still heere, we're jus feeling verr-very sneaky... shhh!

Be forewarned...

If you don't behave yourself, I will have no choice but to fill your shoes with cat crap.

Politeness Fights

Do your ever find yourself having politeness fights? That's what my brother and I would call them as we rolled our eyes at the bickering adults. We'd be out to dinner with my aunt or something and both her and my mom would try to pay the check. We always thought it was funny that even though they were both really trying to be generous, that they'd actually get all upset about it. "Oh no, absolutely not - I'm not letting you pay for your dinner. This is on me. NO. This is on ME. NO. Take back your money. Take it. Take it back!" Finally, one of them would defeatedly accept but threaten to pay for dinner next time.

Now that I'm older, I find that I've picked up my mom's politeness fighting habit. What can I say? She raised me not to accept offerings from other people if I didn't have to. Perhaps to her it's a matter of pride and independence along with being polite - and I can understand that, but now I see how annoying it is when you want to do something nice for someone and they just won't accept.

This happens to me now when the matter of lunch comes up at work. Most of the time, I don't mind going and picking something up and will pick up for my boss as well. He'll insist on paying for both of our lunches and sometimes I will kindly thank him, sometimes I will fight it. "No, you bought lunch for me last time. Let me get yours this time. Well, I can at least pay for my own. Really." as he pulls out his wallet, shaking his head. I try refusing his money and this usually ends up with him throwing the cash on my desk and saying "Take it. Take the motherfucking money! And thank you!" And I know, that should be cool and everything but I just don't want to seem like I'm expecting it or something. I'm getting better at just accepting things with a "thank you" but it doesn't feel right if I don't protest at least a little bit.

Go on, say it out loud

I was telling The Beef (also known as J) that sometimes - like when I'm at work- this phrase just keeps popping into my head. I don't remember where I heard it, but find it amusing that people look at quiet, relatively polite little me and don't know I'm sitting here thinking:
"Why? Fuck you, that's why!"
I think I have some repressed anger.

Wacky parents weekend!

Over the weekend:

• The couple next door had us over for dinner. Nice neighbors! Cute cats! A funny dog! Margaritas! Getting to know each other! We're not used to this kind of friendly behavior from neighbors due to our extended stay in a crappy apartment complex.
  
• On Saturday morning I woke up and groggily told J about another weird dream I had. "Oh honey, it was the worst experience at Arby's - EVER!"
  
• Also Saturday morning, I had a message from my dad saying he was coming up (he lives about 3-4 hours away) to take my mom out to dinner (yes, they've been divorced for nearly 20 years) and wondered if he could spend the night at our house. He sounded like he was getting ready to head up our way whether we said yes or no. His message had this tone of spontaneity and anxiousness that made me feel a bit pressured and freaked out. Also, the very short notice wasn't too cool. But I would've felt bad turning him away, so I said that would be fine.
• J's parents did the "pop-in" on Saturday. J's dad slipped him a couple "funny" old pornos, for some reason. I really hope he's not expecting a review, but really I find that more amusing than offensive.
• Our friend Kat popped in as well that evening, it was good catching up with her.
  
• I ended up having to wait up for my dad to get back from my mom's that night. It was about 11:45 when he finally showed up, and I was tired. Nope, it's not what you're thinking. My mom once again shot down his suggestion of rekindling the flames that burned out a long time ago. I felt like I probably shouldn't know about that, but he told me anyway.
  
• I don't know how to feel about that. Partly sad, partly annoyed, but mostly awkward.
• I cried a little after my dad left.
• I drank a little more than usual over the weekend.
  
• J made a wonderful dinner for my mom and his parents Sunday night, including a smoked chicken experiment that turned out really well. He's quite the host. Good times were had.
• The weekend went by really fast - especially with all the parental invasions - but we still managed to fit in some hot late-night doggy-style lovin, in which I yelped like a cocker spaniel. Well, in a good way though.
  
• I'd gladly discuss any of the above points in more detail, I'm just too tired to make a proper post.
  

Bathroom of Irony

Had this recurring dream again early this morning. I'm desperately searching for a bathroom to use. It always ends up being a public bathroom with many stalls, and there are always problems with it. Some of the stall doors are broken, some don't even have doors. There is water on the floor, a toilet is overflowing. People are everywhere. The place is a mess but I'm desperate. The only clean-looking toilet will inevitably have some other problem, like no privacy. People keep coming into my stall and I can't relax enough to actually go. I've already made a wreath of toilet paper to cover the suspiscious-looking seat, and someone else comes in, sits down and starts to go. I finally exclaim that I've been waiting to use the bathroom for like half an hour now and this is the only one that isn't plugged up or being used. The girl shrugs, flushes the toilet, and it overflows onto my shoes. When I finally get one of the clean, working toilets, I sit there and can't go.

I have a dream book where this is mentioned. Their idea is that in real life there is something you need to "get out" but are embarrassed of it, or just don't know how to express it and you're holding it in.
Or maybe it's just a worry that stays in the back of your mind. If you've ever frantically had to use the bathroom at a rest-stop, a KOA campground, or even at a highschool, the above dream isn't far from reality.

I guess I can just be glad that I didn't wet the bed.

Everything's Gone Green

And we're in the middle of what appears to be a 10 day bout of rain. You'll know I'm officially old if people start complaining about the weather and I shake my fist and say "We need the rain." Old people know best sometimes, or that's what they'll tell you.



I've been sorta in and out lately (yeah, again). I blame it on dreariness and self-medicating. I've been drinking better things like WATER lately and my body is quite confused by it. I also tried an awesome beverage recently that I wish I'd see around more often - Arizona Blueberry White Tea. Word. Antioxidants fo dat ass.



I haven't planted anything new, but I'm pleasantly surprised at what has come to life here. These leaves are so lovely, you'd think they're hand-painted.

You and your damn technology

How much do you love the people who wear the cordless cell phone earpieces around the office? No no, I mean, I can totally see the convenience in this and everything. Truly I wouldn't mind one myself for home use. But. A few peeves:

• I know the temptation is strong, but do you really have to keep talking on it while you're in the bathroom, using the bathroom? When it's a business call?
  
• Sure, we've all dropped calls before. But your limit for number of times to say "hellooo?" before realizing and accepting that the call has been dropped is 2, maybe 3 - not 7 or 8. And you don't have to holler like your caller has fallen down a well or something, either.
  
• Please don't look directly at me while you're talking to someone else on your headset.
• If you talk to me while that headset is on, I'm just gonna ignore you because I'll think you're talking to someone else.
  

side note:
When I worked at the drycleaners that had a drive-thru window, I'd occasionally get these headset people. And the difficult thing was that I'd only see the left side of their face, not realizing their headset was on the right. So one time, dude pulls up and says hello in my direction. I say good morning and am prepared to continue with this transaction. Only to get the raised "pshht" hand and hear him continue his conversation on the phone, while ignoring me. This is a drive-thru, mind you. If someone else had come along, he wouldn't have thought twice about holding up the line. I wish I could say I did something really cool in this situation, but I just turned and walked away from the window, ignored him when I heard him say "Okay, I'm ready now" and then let him wait and bang on the counter a couple times before I came back over. I can't remember now, but I wonder if that was the same fuck who'd come through, throw his dirty clothes at you and say "I'm in a HURRY, I'm late for SURGERY" and all acted like he was a doctor and like that gave him priority over everyone else. But later we found one of his business cards and he was just a medical supply sales rep. Jerkass.

Who likes blurry cat pics? I do, I do!

There's plenty more where these came from! Bwahahaha ahh aha.

soooo snuggly

*snoof*

feets!

shower lickins: the forbidden pleasure

Cinco de Uh-oh

Friday night was interesting. I started out in a rotten mood, so if I talked/didn't talk/was a bitch to you, I'm sorry. Especially to J, because he didn't deserve to come home to my freaked out and pissy attitude. But being the nice guy he is, made quite a bit of effort to cheer me up. This involved margaritas and taquitos (festive!) and - you know I don't normally go on about meat here - but this really awesome ribeye steak on the grill. I'm not even that crazy about steak in general, but it was seared to perfection and was just SO good! And did I mention the margaritas kicked my ass? Now I'm not sure how many we each had, but we managed to finish off that bottle of tequila. I was all stumbley, chatty and happy, the two of us were having a damn good time for a couple of old fuddy-duddies.

Oh, but there's more. You know what you really want to see when you are shitty drunk and step outside your house later to put the grill away? A multitude of flashing emergency vehicle lights of course! Several police cruisers blocking the street, a police SUV in the driveway, 2 or 3 firetrucks and a couple other fire-related trucks, and a bunch of neighbors standing outside looking distraught.

Talk about a buzzkill.

Our neighbor told J part of the story before he got pulled away by one of the firemen. We went back inside for a minute, trying to absorb what was happening while in our blurred foggy state. "I don't know if I can go out there again, I'm way too fucked up" J said. Then there's me "Shit, it's legal to be fucked up in my own house, isn't it? That's what I'll say if they ask me any questions." I was more joking than beligerent, but it did take an effort to regain our composure before going back out to find out what was going on.

A fire started in a neighbors garage and you know, things combusted and whatnot. They weren't home yet. No one was hurt. Thankfully, the neighbors between us and them were home and called 911. Not before the garage fire spread and started melting away part of their house too though, unfortunately. It's a big mess. Those poor people. We were standing outside talking when the owner of the home arrived and went running past to see the damage. On his way, this mouthy preteen boy intercepted him "Dude! Your house caught on fire!" J and I looked at each other like "who the hell is that kid?" Because the way he said it sounded so rude, it was like "Dude, you suck! You set your house on fire, dumbass." I mean, at a moment of great distress - J and I thought the guy might just punch that kid in the face and keep walking. We were just a little disappointed when he didn't. Then it seemed like everyone who walked by mentioned that this is the second fire these people have had. I feel really bad for them, hopefully they have decent insurance. We gawked for a bit along with the neighbors but then decided it was time to go back inside.



We didn't feel so festive after that, but it was an interesting night nonetheless.

5 and 5 on 5/5

Things I'm not good at:

1. Eating with chopsticks
2. Singing "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake on karaoke - it's harder than you'd think!
3. Reverse cowgirl
4. Driving in reverse (backing into parking spaces, backing down my driveway)
   
5. Reassuring myself
   

Things I'm good at:

1. Being self-deprecating
   
2. Embarrassing myself
   
3. Making myself nauseous
4. Checking your blogs
   
5. Doing naughty things
   

Fourth Grade Foibles (Part 3)

Part Three of... Possibly More?

Read Part One

Read Part Two

How long did my romance with Keith last? A few weeks? A month? I can't quite remember, but it didn't seem like very long. Plus I think we had decided to "go out" right before school was over so I didn't get to see him as much anymore anyway. No more sneaky kisses.

It was that summer that my mom decided she was going back to school in a city 3 hours south of where we were and I decided to move with her, leaving my dad, my stupid brothers, and well, Keith behind. I remember calling Keith to tell him the news and not being that impressed with his reaction. He was just kind of quiet and then said his mom was calling him and he'd have to go or something. Ohh, I don't think he was that sad. Was he? He probably just didn't know what to say. That was the last time I ever talked to him, even though it was a while before I actually moved away. I was kinda sad about it for a while, but my mom and her newfound liberation kept me from going on about boys too much.

So, that was about it for the "action" I got in fourth grade. Oh wait, no. I umm, I also humped a girl.

Fourth Grade Foibles (Part 2)

Part Two of A Few

Read Part One First

Alright, I didn't actually end up "going out" with both Keith and Brandon at the same time. Come on. And be like that two-timin' chump Kaylan? Nah. What I did do, however, was have most of the class vote on who they thought I should go out with. Oh yeah, ballots and shit - you know it. Alright, more like a sheet with "check one" on it, but still. Nice, huh?

Brandon was the popular, blond haired, class-clowney kind of guy while Keith was a quietly funny, polite, brown-haired guy. Naturally, nearly everyone in class voted for Brandon. I remember that piece of paper being passed back to me just before the end of class and I looked at it and smiled.

And of course, decided to go out with Keith. Ha.

After all, he talked to me first and I knew Brandon wouldn't really care either way. Plus, I always liked rooting for the underdog.

I think I made a good choice. We never actually did "go out", but one day I convinced Keith to ride his bike over to my house. He whined a little bit about how far away it was, but I insisted. I think for some reason I was going to be alone there or mostly unsupervised for a little while. And of course, I had plans.

I knew I was not supposed to have boys over, let alone have them in my room but I didn't seem to care. When Keith got there, we went in my room where I informed him that we were going to "kiss like they do on TV", demonstating a long french kiss as an example with my pillow. He was a little intimidated by that. After a little compromising, we ended up doing more of a "kiss like fourth-graders would" but hey, I was just happy to get a kiss at all.

And, as you'll see below - he even wrote me a sweet little note! Sure, it took some urging, but it's pretty good, I think. I've been holding onto this one for a long time. I think it was my first "loveletter" from a boy. It still makes me smile.

click to enlarge & squint your eyes to read

What about you? Have you kept old-school love notes? Do you remember the ones you've written?

Fourth Grade Foibles

Part One of A Few

So, fourth grade was pretty sweet. I mean, looking back I had a bunch of fucked up family shit going on and all that BUT I was also in public school instead of Catholic so I didn't have to wear uniforms, which I thought was the shiz at the time. (I actually transferred over in 3rd grade, but I don't remember much of note during that year.) And I could wear EARRINGS, well - I'd hide the really dangly ones that my mom didn't like and then put them on once I got to school. It was a really nice elementary school and I was happy there. Plus the school had the COOLEST playground, and we were even allowed to go about 3.5 feet into the adjacent woods and make forts. Forts! Awesome.

So, I never really went through that "boys are icky" stage. Or I did, but that didn't stop me from chasing them. There was this boy that I thought was cute. His name was Kaylan or some crap like that. He had bronze skin and an oblong head and I don't remember much about him but he was popular. I liked him, and then my friend decided she liked him too, and she'd go ask him who he liked. He was all "Well, why don't I go out with both of you and see who I like better?" What a pimp. I inevitably lost, though neither of us actually "went out" anywhere with him. My friend snarkily announced that she had been chosen while we were on the playground, maybe a day or two later. I went off to the woods area and was feeling half-sad and defeated. This nice boy Keith came up and after hearing about it, said
"Well, I woulda picked you"
(sniffle) "You... you would?"
Then his friend Brandon came up.
"Yeah, I woulda gone out with you too."
(beaming)"You... really?"
They look at each other, and back at me.
(light bulb goes on) "Well, I've got an idea, boys - how bout I go out with both of you and see who I like better?"

Blue Monday

I wrote this last night (Monday). I know it's all whiney and crap, but hell I wrote it so I'm putting it up. I'll hopefully have something happier to share soon.

I've had way too much time to think today. Still, not much clarity has come from it.

I'm not the type that has taken a big ol' bite out of life. I haven't been known to put my foot down and demand things in the way other people do. I sometimes can't bring myself to just tell you what I want. Sometimes I don't know what I want. Sometimes I'm afraid to say it. I just want to be someone. I want to be worth something. To you and to me. I don't feel like there's anywhere I fit in. You won't hear me being referred to as "my wife" or "that hottie" or "the charming young lady" or even "the MILF next door." But perhaps that is for the best. I am none of these things. I'm not young, I'm not cute, I'm not successful, I'm not sick, I'm not well. I don't seem to ever feel quite right. I feel like I have so much that I want to give, but how can a no-one have anything to offer?

So, here I am on another pointless night, wanting to cry for other people's lives - for their struggles, their loves, their losses, their strengths. It's ridiculous.

Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic. - Anais Nin

While this quote makes some sense, you can probably see why I also find it heartbreaking. I want to be a better person, I don't want to weigh anyone down, I just feel so overwhelmed by all my flaws and don't quite know where to start with fixing them.

My Body Rejects Nature

These little ailments sometimes make me feel like one big mess. Stupid allergies. It itches from my eyes to my nose to my ears. Yeah, I guess that's not very far but trust me, it's concentrated. You know what feels good? Scratching the roof of my mouth with my toothbrush. Repeatedly Q-tipping my ears. Rinsing my contacts. Pressing on either side of my nose or under my eyes to relieve the pressure. Oh so itchy. Oh so scratchy. Allergy medicine - what? Yeah, I guess my whole "building up immunity" idea isn't working.
I stepped down on the side of my right ankle while wearing these awful shoes a few days ago, it wasn't too bad though. But then the next day my right knee was stiff and hurting. And it was at the same time that the right side of my sinuses were stuffed up, so pretty much that half of my body was useless. Then my uterus starts acting up and you know - it's just downhill from there.

I've never really suffered from insomnia, but I do appreciate it when it doesn't take me long to fall asleep. I hate that feeling when you just can't get in the right position or can't get your thoughts to quiet down, and as the restless hours pass you just get frustrated to tears because you know you're gonna feel like shit in the morning. Sometimes I also have a problem if the person I'm sleeping with falls asleep first. I find myself listening to the rhythm of how they breathe, and I start breathing in time with them, only it doesn't feel right, but when I try to breathe normally it's like I forgot how to breathe on my own. And that right there, pretty much sucks.
I shouldn't jinx myself. I've gotta get to bed.

Outside

La la la... taking some pictures, avoiding the bumblebees...



Ooh, what a lovely viney-shrubby thing with it's wee little red flowers!



Oh my! Well lookee here, it's the local bunner-buns getting a little sunshine! Have you had your lil' baby buns yet? I promise I won't take them from you!

Sucking In Reverse

You know how sometimes a stupid phrase you heard somewhere (that really has nothing to do with anything) just keeps popping up in your head?

I thought of this again the other night and of course, had to share it with you. One time when I was having my teeth cleaned and was quite old enough to know how the whole thing worked, the overly chipper dental hygenist gave me this little treasure to be forever stuck in my mind. She had that crazy little vacuum tube thing to put in my mouth and says:

"Do you like milkshakes?"
"Huaaghh" (I think I nodded or shrugged, as my mouth was full)
"Well see? This is just like a milkshake, but in reverse."

Oh yes, just like a milkshake. Only a gritty, minty, completely unenjoyable milkshake that's being sucked out of your mouth at a rapid speed. Yes, just like that. Thank you. Oh, you didn't want me to spew toothpaste everywhere? I thought blowing was sucking in reverse, you know.

Oh, to be hepped up on goofballs

Whatever happened to Mini-Thins? You probably can't get them anymore, can you? I mean, because of the ephedrine and all. I remember that you had to be 18 (supposedly) to buy them, but I wonder what the cut off age is that says you're getting too old for this shit? Probably also 18. They were big amongst my group of friends in highschool, not that that's saying much. They'd make me feel like jumping around and skipping merrily, and like I could smoke way more than usual without the consequences (which I'm sure was the recommended idea for this "asthma treatment".) But you had to watch out because depending on how many you took, you could really crash hard afterwards. I suppose this was one of the more minor dumbass things I did at the time.

That "just rolled out of bed" look

Q: You've got wild hair today, did you do something different?

A: Yes, I think it was the masturbating that did it.

Life's a garden, dig it!

I haven't been writing or using the computer as much lately - what's happening to me? Well, you haven't missed much. I've just been spending more time outside, pulling out weeds and dead stuff from the garden while sneezing incessantly. My mom came over on Saturday and we spent the better part of the day working on it, which still is only a dent in all we need to do. It was great to have her help and advice though. While we were doing that, J got us a nice new mailbox, tore out the old box and post and put the new one in, so we no longer have one that's leaning precariously to the side with its door hanging open. Yay!
I even chatted with a few of our neighbors a bit yesterday. I'm sure I made a great impression given that I hadn't showered or put makeup on yet, was wearing grubby gardening clothes and was sniffling like crazy from allergies. Oh well, they were really nice and hopefully I didn't scare them off for good.
So, as you can see it's just boring regular kind of stuff going on over here. But hey, just look at these purty-purty flowers that have popped up behind our house over the last couple weeks!






More to come...

The Homemade Bong Experiment

Oh, I forgot what I was going to tell you.

*Cough*

Not exactly a poem

Not exactly depressed.
Not the time to be hormonally moody.
Wouldn't say I'm coming down with something.
There isn't all that much pressure to speak of.
Can't say I'm necessarily angry.
But.
Still.
Life's little irritants,
Like the leftovers in the back of the fridge
That you want to just forget about
Are still there,
Lurking and starting to get stinky,
They're taking over and ruining the things that were good
Until you just have to deal with them
And I'm in the mood
To throw everything away

Yours is a butt that won't quit

I'm very low on energy today, so if I haven't written you or have only half-assed written to you, sorry about that. Me sleepy. No writey good.

So I'll just bring up some TV stuff.
It's easy for me to get hooked on these HBO & Showtime original series. Only, it seems like I don't watch the ones that virtually everyone else does, like "The Sopranos" "Six Feet Under" or "Curb Your Enthusiasm" or whatever it is you kids are watching these days. However, I've recently become rather into HBO's new series "Big Love" - you know, the one about polygamy, starring Bill Paxton? I think I become easily intrigued with alternative lifestyles, and alright, it's the drama too. It's really quite interesting and worth checking out. If I wasn't so out of it, I'd give you a better review.

I'd also gladly discuss "The L Word" "Deadwood" or "Weeds" with you, should you have an interest in them.
But right now, I can't really focus on much of anything - especially work, which reminds me - I have some to do. Blurrghh.

Coincidence?

It's been awhile since I've had some fortune cookie wisdom to share. But today the consensus was: chinese food for lunch! And lookee what I got:

Think of the danger while things are going smoothly.

Ah, yes. Thank you for that little tidbit. So, continue on with my paranoia and neuroses you say? Don't mind if I do!

The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste

Last night I had a dream that someone put a cigarette (a camel light to be specific) in my mouth and lit it. It felt so real. I nodded with gratitude, this way I could say it wasn't my own doing. But, I took a deep drag and it tasted bad (this has been happening more and more in my smoking dreams lately.) Thanks, conscience.

Speaking of dreams, last week I had some real disturbing ones. But this was on a day that I had taken a nap, which I don't do so much anymore - and it seems that I tend to have very odd dreams while napping. The kind that make it even more difficult to return to reality. I can't remember all of the details (wish I had written about it then) but it started out with some hot lesbian canoodling with most of the cast of The L Word, but then things took a horrible turn. It was like we were all playing this assassin game, only it turned out to not really be a game. This scary pro-wrestler dude (why the fuck was he there?) had drawn my name and came after me with this small rusty chainsaw, yelling to me that there was no point in running. The awful part, folks, is that when he caught up with me, I could actually feel the heat and the gnarly saw's teeth against my neck. He was going to cut my head off, and all I did was close my eyes and hope that it would be over soon. Really disturbing.

I swear, people. I hardly ever watch horror movies - in fact I tend to get not just disturbed but downright pissed at some of the previews for the shock horror movies that have come out lately. There's enough shit in real life or in dreams that scares the hell out of me, thank you.

Oblivion

It's pretty cute when J and his brother have the same video game and need to discuss gaming matters over the phone. J gets rather animated and can give a glowing, accurate, and sometimes mindbogglingly complete review of a game he enjoys, more thorough than any gaming site I've ever seen.

We were out shopping last week when his brother called to let him know he had just bought this game that J had recommended. A half hour conversation ensued as I kept shopping, once in a while wandering off with the cart or looking at him quizzically as I pointed first at one item, then another, then just said screw it and dropped whatever it was into the cart while he chatted.

When we got out to the car and he hung up, he smiled at me "Sorry I was on the phone so long, honey. I hope I didn't embarrass you."
"No no - I know you don't get to talk to your brother that often..."
"But...?" he said, and we both started to laugh.
"But if I have to hear another damn word about 'mages', 'magicka' or 'throwing fireballs' while we're in public, I'm going to have to pretend I don't know you."

Don't judge me by my pants

Ughh. Ever have one of those mornings where you leave the house knowingly making a bad clothing choice? Only since you're still in your morning grogginess mode, you tell yourself that you don't really care? Until you get a little ways down the road and see yourself in natural light, and then you do care but it's too late to turn around and go back? Or worse, you don't see the true hideousness of your outfit until you're under the flourescent lights at work? Oh, of course you don't. But I do.

I'm stuck in that clothing limbo right now. While it's becoming more and more apparent that I need to buy some new clothes that are ahem, a bit larger; I'm still giving myself this shred of hope that my fattiness is only temporary and I'll soon be fitting into my old clothes. Then again, my old clothes aren't worth much of a shit and are mostly clearance rack items anyway, so I don't know why it matters. Guhh.

So I've got these "nice" gray pants on with a very thin, subtle pink stripe in them that I haven't even owned for very long. They have a winning combination of being a tad tight around the waist along with being too short (I also have a knack for shrinking pants in the dryer.) So, I yank them down a bit to cover my glaringly ridiculous light pink socks (with black shoes, thus giving me that good ol 80s Michael Jackson look) and then with pants sitting at hip level, it's "hello there, belly flab!" Which might not be that noticable if I didn't also have a thin, ill-fitting pink sweater on (which, it turns out - is the wrong shade of pink to wear with these pants anyway.)

Please, just avert your eyes if I have to walk past you, okay?

Oh, like you didn't think that

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mute

The days that I need closeness the most are the days that I can't bring myself to reach out for it.

Not babysitter material

So, the weekend visit with the brother went okay. It felt like we really didn't get much of a chance to talk, but I guess neither of us are very big talkers anyhow. Or we just don't know how to instigate a conversation sometimes. Also, there was a bit of awkwardness with his girlfriend and her 8 year old daughter being there. The good thing was that the girl really liked us, the bad (well I don't know if I can even say bad, just kind of again, awkward) thing was that she was getting really clingy with me. And they didn't seem to care or you know, get her off of me, but whatever. Oh now, I know what you're thinking - "aww, she liked you, don't be mean about it". It's true that as much as I don't feel like a "kid person" they do have a way of melting my childless, cold-ass heart. Damn kids. Making me like them and stuff.

For some reason, it seems as if I'm always the one that both dogs and children run to. They will single me out of a crowd even when I try to blend in. Don't get me wrong - I like kids. I like dogs. But sometimes I have similar problems with both.

Like, you know when people have a particularly jumpy dog they'll usually try to hold them back and keep them off of their guests? I appreciate that. Honestly, I was for the most part terrified of dogs as a kid and while I was never bitten - being growled at and jumped on or knocked over pretty much scared the shit out of me on several occasions. I suppose it didn't help that I'd shriek and pull my hands up, but hey - we never had a dog before - I didn't know what to do. Anyways, point being - not everyone is a "dog person" or will know how to keep your dog under control if it freaks out and I really don't think they should have to. I think most owners are considerate of that fact.

Same goes for children. It's kinda nice when parents restrain them from jumping on you and stuff. Most parents are considerate when visiting other people's homes that do not have kids, and note that perhaps this isn't a place to let them run around willy-nilly and out of control, even if that's what they do at home. I'm not saying the kids should have to be bored out of their minds and sit there being seen and not heard. I'm saying that when you visit someone with your kid - who these people have never met - you might want to maybe give them something to occupy themselves with and like, maybe pay attention to what they're doing so your hosts don't have to become the mean old babysitter. You know? I don't mean to sound like some old bitch. I just mean like, do you let your kids just wander into other people's bedrooms or mess with their things or with their pets? And we've had friends before who have come over with their child (and I understand that they need a break and want to visit with the adults and everything, but...) then sort of ignore them while they try to pull expensive electronics off of shelves, or beat on things, or just shrug when their kid knocks shit over that he shouldn't have been messing with, and look at you like it's your fault that your house wasn't childproof. It just seems to put us in an uncomfortable situation. But you know...

Anyways, point - if there is one - is that both my brother and his girlfriend have quite complacent or maybe just apathetic personalities. While this sometimes may seem like a good coping mechanism among chaos, it can lead to bad things, too. I'm just a bit worried about the fact that they are due to have a baby in another few months and they're kinda like "eh, whatever." They are both in their 30s and I don't feel that I'm one to give them advice. I don't expect them to change their lifestyle and I certainly can't talk as I don't have kids of my own and I haven't always made the wisest choices in my own life. I do hope for the best for them, and it was nice to have them visit - but also nice to have them go.

Oh, what's this?

Life in the backyard! We haven't even like, done anything yet yard or gardenwise (obviously, but like I said - it's just been getting tolerable here recently) but look - suddenly there's life! Stuff is growing everywhere! Flowers and - I kid you not - sightings of fluffy little bunner-buns hippity-hopping through our backyard. It's crazy - especially after having lived in apartments for 15 or more years. Yardwaste receptacles? Proper drainage? Spring leaf & brush pickup? Lawn chemicals? Holy crap, this owning a home thing is still sinking in. Yikes!

Uncharacteristically excited about the weather

Do you smell that April freshness? It's muhhfukkin spring, yo! (Yeah, that's right - just now it is. I know, it's a little late when you live up here.)

Which means:
- Temperatures occasionally above freezing!
- Allergies, complete with sneezing fits that go something like this: aauhh-chew, aauhh-chew-wee, aauhh-cha-heww! High pollen alerts!
- What do I wear???
- The office's blinds have been slightly adjusted for peepin the outdoors - ooh, hello sunny parking lot! Hi there, dilapidated house next door without window coverings, nice to see ya!
- Our (indoor) cat is meh-meh-ing to go outside - much snoofing to be done and grass to be eaten and horked up later!


- I don't know the first thing about gardening and there's flowers n' stuff growing outside - don't eat it, kitty!
- Taxes - while questionably accurate - are DONE!
- Mmmm, don't you look sexy out there grillin'!
- Commence the mating rituals! Snoo-snoo! Rumpy-pumpy! Hubba-hubba! Mrrrowwrr-mrroww!

Pulling my hair out won't help

I tend to get anxious and sometimes depressed when there's about to be a family gathering of some kind. My brother and his pregnant girlfriend and her daughter from a previous relationship will be coming to visit. They won't even be spending the night with us, so I shouldn't be worried about it. The more I sit and stew on it, the worse I'll feel. So once again, I'm venting my thoughts here in hopes that I will feel better after attempting to put my feelings into words.

I feel ashamed, because I shouldn't be feeling like this. I'll only make it worse. I used to think of myself as warm, caring and forgiving. Very forgiving - to a fault I guess you could say. But time has passed, and I've grown accustomed to my pouty, unforgiving ways. The worst is that it's towards my family - who I really should be closest and most forgiving with.

It's not a good time to bring up this old shit, but it really never will be. I really should do the civil thing and swallow my feelings and smile. But then you know, there's that whole resentment thing. And it shows, as much as I try to hide it.

There just eventually came a point in my life where I realized that I had been making excuses for my brother for so long, trying to put him in a good light, covering up the things I know he did... that it became a burden on me. But I know it's not fair to just be secretly angry because it's my problem that I haven't quite come to terms with. Actually, later in life we've become more of friends with each other. I should know he's sorry even if we can't talk about it... right? I think we tried to once, and I just couldn't deal with it, it broke my heart and felt embarrassing to hear him apologize and I just quickly smoothed it over like it never was a big deal to me. So why is this bothering me now? I mean, he's grown up and changed - sort of. What do I even want to come from this? Do I want him to feel awful all over again for things he did that made me feel awful? No, not really. Do I want to shut him out of my life the way he did with us for so many years? A little. Do I want him to be happy now that he's becoming a father? Of course I do, but I can't say the idea doesn't worry me. Do I want to grab him and shake him and tell him he's done some really stupid shit? Yeah, sometimes. But you know what? There will always be people that will feel that way towards him, and I don't think that's what I'm meant to do. I feel like I'm meant to be the voice of reason and understanding. But sometimes, I just don't feel up to it the way I used to. Like now.
This is only as big of a deal as I make it. Then again, in my little world things are always a big deal.

Toilet-trees

Alright, then. We're keepin it in the bathroom, folks. I normally am not one to participate in your meme-ery, but as you may know, I do have an interest in bathroom products. In fact, whether it's my mom or boyfriend - whoever I live with is usually subjected to an annoying amount of products lining the bathtub, along with several drawers and shelves worth of shampoo, bodywash, perfume, lotion, etc. And who can turn down a tagging from El Diablo de Verde when he asks so nicely?

1. Body soap?

I try something new all the time, but right now it's SoftSoap Pomegranate & Mango bodywash (it's sweet but not sickeningly sweet) and Dial Green Tea & Vitamin E bodywash (it's nice and fresh-smelling and not so girly, so the boyfriend can use it too).

2. Face wash?

Aveeno skin brightening scrub & Olay daily face wash for sensitive skin

3. Shampoo?

Also changes frequently, but me and the boyfriend both like L'oreal Vive for frequent use - smells fresh and citrus-y!

4. Moisturizer?

Dove for sensitive skin

5. Cologne/Perfume?

Breathe Romance by Bath & Body Works, various others depending on my mood

6. Deodorant/Anti-perspirant?

I'm not too particular, but Ban, Lady Mitchum & Lady Speed Stick are decent

7. Toothpaste?

Colgate

8. Mouthwash?

Cool Mint Listerine

9. Razor?

some kinda Schick or imitation of

10. Shaving cream?

n/a

11. Aftershave?

n/a

12. Missed anything?

- Hmm, I like this orange hair goo I have called Potion 9 by Sebastian. It smells good and helps control the frizzies. It's probably the only item among these that's over $10, because I'm cheap, bitches! If I could afford it, I'd probably buy Aveda or Bumble & Bumble goodies.
- Oh, and it'll totally throw off my day if I don't have Q-tips for my ears, especially right after showering.

13. Whose bathroom shall we raid next?
Whoever is willing, please join in and let me know! But if I must call some of you out, then so be it. Just you know, do it if you want to and let me know or whatever. No pressure.

A few ladies:
SayUnderpants
Beckalicious
Grafs

A couple fellers:
HemisphereDancer
Will

*Bonus Questions*

14. Do you prefer a bath or a shower?
Our new place has a double-sized (double-wide?) shower, which is fine with me although I did like the occasional bubble-bath.

15. Your most disliked fragrances (air-freshener or otherwise)?
As we discussed in the last post, fakey vanilla stuff (just gives me a headache) and I've never been too fond of rose-scented stuff either.

"It smells like burning"

I'm not too fond of the people at work lighting matches in the bathroom to cover their poo smell. Granted, I don't really want to smell their poo either, but it's a relatively small office and this tends to just make other people freak out because they think something is on fire. I go out in the hallway to make copies and my eyes and nose are instantly burning with the smell of flaming poo.
A new addition has also been made to the line up of bad air fresheners in the bathroom. Someone brought in one of those el-cheapo vanilla body sprays, perhaps a rejected Christmas gift? Unlike most people, I'm not a big fan of the fakey vanilla fragrances to begin with. Combined with the other smells, we might as well just have some old guy hanging out in the bathroom puffing on some vanilla pipe tobacco. Blech.


* If you liked this smelly topic, be sure to check out the similar fragrance of this one!

Unreflected

I'm just floating around aimlessly, don't mind me. I don't know what to say. I keep worrying that I say all the wrong things, or I've said stuff in a way that didn't properly reflect how I meant it. I think I scare people away. So uhh, it comes from being a hermit and I'm sorry.

It was a rotten day for talking about my health. At the doctor's office, I was painfully aware of how all the nurses & lab techs were younger/prettier/perkier/have better jobs than me. You see where I'm going with this. My self image is not at it's best during this time of my cycle to begin with. Of course the only available magazine in the waiting room was Seventeen - which normally I would just snicker at, but today felt like a reminder of how uncool and out of touch I am. Then it was time to step on the scale. Looking at those awful red digits come up was both suprising and (after rubbing eyes and looking again) terribly disconcerting. I'm really embarrassed at how much I've let myself go in the last few years, and it all seems to be catching up with me now. Left alone in the exam room I frowned at myself in the mirror, noticed how my makeup seemed so much less than flattering under the flourescent lights than it had at home, and tried rather unsuccessfully to smooth my windblown hair. The doctor was nice as usual, and nothing about it really should've made me feel bad. But I'm afraid the most likely result of this will be "Based on our tests, it turns out you're just a lazy and sad little piggy. You don't need medicine, you need a kick in the pants."

Abracadabra

Oh, farts. I'm nervous again. But that's just kinda my way, you know?

1. There could be a possible visit by my estranged brother this coming weekend. It is currently unknown if he will be bringing his pregnant girlfriend whom I have not yet met, or the two children from her previous relationship. I feel a bit uncomfortable, will possibly explain more about that later.
2. You know, I figured I should probably like get on with doing the taxes and whatnot, ya know? But I only got so far before I ran into something different than in previous years. We're both on the mortgage for our new home, and we're not married. Do we have to decide which one of us claims the shit or split the amount in half and hope the feds figure it out? Do we still get to use the EZ forms? Bleh.
   
3. I get to go to the doctor tomorrow and see if they can tell me if my thyroid has truly gone bonkers. When I went in December for a general exam, the NP mentioned on my way out that my thyroid "felt a bit enlarged" and passed me off to the lab to have blood drawn without much of an explanation. I received a card with a check next to "normal" but then why did my throat feel funny and why am I showing several warning signs of a thyroid problem, along with it running in my family? Huh?
4. My boss will return tomorrow from vacation and hopefully I didn't forget or fuck up anything beyond repair in his absence.
   

Comparing apples to oranges

The last thing I want to do is push people away, especially when I need them so badly. I wish I didn't, but I do. I've got to stop doing this shit where I compare myself and my life to others and their lives. It only makes me miserable and dissatisfied. I'll think that they do it too, that they see me as less than themselves. But, you know? Maybe they don't. It's not fair to do to myself or anyone else.
There's just a certain place I thought I'd be in by this point in my life. But you know, if I had even half the motivation of an average person - maybe I'd be there by now. If I stop and think, there are things to be desired, but my life isn't too shabby. I can't get jealous because surely everyone has had to struggle in their own way - it only looks easy from the outside.


whether you fall
means nothing at all
it's whether you get up
it's whether you get up...

Inconsequential Stuff

• Jon Stewart is a DILF. Just thought you should know - mrrowwr!
  
• I like Stephen Colbert quite a bit too.
  
• I probably should not be allowed to have those sugary imitation coffee drinks, like I did yesterday
• I've still got dangly plastic bits hanging off of my car cause I haven't gotten it fixed since the little incident.
  
• And I still haven't done our fucking taxes - shit!
  
• I've got too much butt for these jeans
• I can still smell his shaving cream from this morning's kisses - mmm.
  
• Hormone levels may have temporarily returned to normal.
  

Finally, an angry rant...

There are times that I don't want to write just light, breezy, inconsequential stuff. And I guess I don't really, I mean I don't think you could call this a necessarily "happy" or "fun" blog. But there's still always part of me that holds back. I'm not sure so much if it's fear of you or fear of myself.

There were certain things, actually a lot of things, that my mother would tell me not to tell people, or not speak up about. She did it to protect me in a way, I think, but at the time it came across to me as shame or embarrassment. All the years of self-help kind of stuff we went through to not keep our feelings bottled up, but then I was expected to go back to that. For my mom, it seemed more as what she thought was socially acceptable. You don't want anyone to feel responsible for what you've gone through, feel obligated to empathize. You don't want to be one of those people who says too much too soon. Maybe she just didn't want me to keep wearing my heart on my sleeve, there for anyone to take and use as they wished. And in a way, I understand. But in a way, I've never been that great at keeping my feelings and experiences to myself. Yes, there have been times when sharing has hurt me even more by the response I got - but there are also times that I felt like I was getting this poison out of my system and along the way, finding others who understood.

Christ, people. There are so many of us who have been abused, had rotten childhoods, fucked up relationships, etc. And while so many of us want to pass it off as being so incredibly strong, saying "So what? I got over it - you should too" - can't you see that this shit is still there inside? Can't you see that it affects all of your personal relationships, even if you don't realize it now? I'm tired of being told I'm just too sensitive. I'm tired of people laughing and turning away because they don't want to feel. I'm tired of the belief that being emotional is a character flaw. I'm tired of keeping it all inside because of what people think, or what I think they'll think.

Wow, I don't know what's gotten into me. It's like I want to fight for something, but I just don't know what. Already I feel apologetic and like I'll regret that I've revealed my weaknesses here. But right now, I guess I don't fucking care.

One thing that's really bothered me for a long time is when people take rape and incest and violence against women, or really anyone - so lightly, so jokingly. I don't consider myself that easily offended or above "off-color" kinds of humor, but I guess for me, I just don't think that shit is funny. And it amazes me how many people think it is. I can only imagine that nothing similar has ever happened to them or someone they've cared about, or it has and it's a really fucked up way of dealing with it. I can't believe that in some of these blogs I've read, no one ever fucking calls them out on it. Not even me. They can pass it off as just writing fiction or being sarcastic, but still. What's the most appalling, to me, is the women who seem to turn their backs on other women. You're a fucking woman, and you want to play off rape as something enjoyable? Do you realize how much that is just spitting in the face of someone who's actually gone through it? Do you think you're impressing all of your male chauvinist readers? Fucking christ, if I read one more blog where a woman says something along the lines of "I wanna be brutally raped - LOL" I'm gonna fucking puke.

And I know, free speech and all that. And I know, I don't have to read it. And I know, I'm probably taking this too much to heart when it may not be intended that way. But fuck if it doesn't make me a little more sickened every time that it seems everyone has become so desensitized.

Brimful of Asha

You know what? I love the smell of hot toner in the morning. Really. There's something comforting about the smell of a nice, hot, 20 page fax coming in. Mmm. So... office-y. Almost as nice as the smell of fresh laundry right out of the dryer.

So yeah, pretty much feeling better than yesterday.

Spent some time on the couch yesterday lying on my left side to try to take the pressure off of the right side of my sinuses - I think that's why I was getting dizzy. The cat curled up with me on the blanket and purred and then the boyfriend made a light, delicious dinner for us and we watched some Family Guy reruns. So really, I can't complain.

Wait a minute, I don't know what to do when I'm not complaining. No wonder I'm having a case of writer's block.

More later....

p.s. Does anyone remember the song that's the title of this post? It really gets stuck in your head. "Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow..."

Lost Cause

Mmrrrmmphhh.
I went to bed feeling dizzy and nauseous. I woke up feeling dizzy and nauseous. Just because I've got a nice boss doesn't mean I should go home when he gets back. I'm saying that mostly for your benefit. I'm trying to tell myself to be a good girl but given the choice it seems I never do what's right. Bleh. Tuesdays always seem to suck. Sorry, I've got nothing too good to say right now.

Dirty Barbies

In fifth grade, my friend and I felt we were perhaps a little too old to be playing Barbies. Well, that didn't exactly stop us. We weren't too old to play "dirty Barbies" after all! We just had to keep it hush-hush and make sure her little brother (tattletale) left us alone.

I don't know if you're familiar with Barbie and the Rockers? Umm, hello? They each came with a cassette tape and everything. Well, one of the members of Barbie's band was Derek, who I thought was way cooler than Ken (which I never had). He sure got a lot of action, being that there was usually about a 6/1 or more ratio of ladies to gents.

But, he was kind of a jerk about it.

I'd bring Derek over to my friend's house, where he'd be unimpressed with her Barbie's hotel. He just wanted to drive her corvette and make-out. At times, he'd request that she wore something a little sexier than her full-length gowns. He'd try running his outstretched hand through her hair, but ended up getting it caught and pulling a blond snarl out. Smooth. Then he'd clumsily try to pull her clothes off and would grin at her firm breasts, rubbing his muscular body squeakily back and forth against hers. "Sex" was pretty awkward, given Derek's pemananent briefs and Barbie's tendency to not open her legs, but you know - we managed. Afterwards, he'd use such cliched phrases as "Wow, baby - you're the best." or "Really, I'll call ya..." as he raised his arm in a stiff waving gesture, the arrogant smile still plastered on his face. One time Barbie got pissed at his quick exit and tried something to lure him back.
"You can't go. I'm pregnant."
"What? There's no way you can know that yet." (that was me being a smartass)
"Yuh-huh!" (that was my friend, being insistent)
"Nuh-uh!"
"You told me you were on the pill!" (I must've heard this somewhere before)
"Oh right. Nevermind. I'll take my pill and I won't be pregnant anymore."
"I don't think that's how it works, but fine."
Sigh.
Sigh.

We didn't feel like playing anymore after that.

I have a coupon for that

Waiting in line
at the grocery store
I'm shy, so
I'm looking down and
I can't help
just staring
at their butts
inquisitively...
Uh-oh,
you caught me

That's SO 8th grade, man

So the boss surprised me the other day by asking if I had heard of "the shocker". No no, I didn't take his hand like so and show him. I just turned slightly red and asked if that was a trick question. Really, he just learned about this last weekend, and thank God somebody already explained the gesture to him. "I didn't know - I always thought it was a gang sign!" I guess he figures if it's something silly and immature, I must know about it, and well - that's true for the most part. I'm glad all I had to do was snicker and cover my face to avoid much further discussion.

Do you speak nerdish too?

I look at my stats and I see you looked at your stats and saw me hanging out and then you came over to see what the fuss was all about. Well, it was just little old me! I don't like to keep bookmarks on one of the computers that I use and I'm just wacky so I go to your blog through my blog and clickety-clickety-click and then you think holy crappers, that's a lot of referrals from that one site, but it's all that same *%$#^*% person. Geez, that girl must be really obsessive-compulsive or just like, has a thing for me or something.

And you're right!

Old Blogging Grounds

Wow. Yeah. That was some time well spent there changing the font colors 14 times on the old template, then going through all the different pre-made templates and not liking any of them. Whew. Yeah. And for those of you who are old school, this is just the same ol template I used in the beginning. Yeah, good times and excitement.
That was dumb.
How come we always end up having the litterbox in the same room as the computer? The smell of cat poop is really stifling my creativity.



(I can't even make a proper caption for this cat... and doesn't she look like she needs one?)

They don't call them samoas anymore?

So I ordered some Girl Scout cookies. Since I didn't know when they'd arrive, I didn't happen to have the cash on me at the time when the girl's mom brought them in to work. No problem, they take checks. As I thumbed through my purse, I noticed that I had the old checkbook from an account I cancelled as well as my current checkbook. And I thought - how shitty would that be? To purposely write a check to a freakin Girl Scout when you know it would bounce? I wonder if anyone has bounced a check for Girl Scout cookies? And I started thinking - I wonder if they would deal with that at the corporate level? And then I thought, well I would hope so, what're they gonna do - make the girlscout pay? I start imagining:

(Troop leader approaches with a voided check, thrusts it in the scout's face)
"Well Jenny, do you know what insufficient funds means?"
"What? Umm, no?"
"Well it means that I'm going to have to take back that patch you earned for selling 100 boxes. Ohhh and you were so close, too..."
"But... but..."
"Nope, that's the rules. I guess you'll know better next year."

I'm not

I'm not like you
I wish I had that
something you have
that makes everyone
(including me)
fall for you so easily

Another dick in the wall

Dude. What is up with the Wall? (Ahem, you know what I mean - it rhymes with Ballgreens?) The harshly blaring lights, unmarked merchandise and zombielike staff aren't enough?

It seems like every time I go, something weird and/or mildly irritating happens. And I'm not even talking about the times that they lost or didn't have my prescription, I mean - that's just expected as part of the fun, right?

>There are the times when the lady at the pharmacy pick-up counter looks like she's gonna blow your fucking head off as she asks you if you have any questions for the pharmacist, which you politely say you don't, even if somehow you did. Or the times when you spell your last name three times and she just starts sighing loudly and rummaging through all the little alphabetized buckets, throwing prescriptions to and fro in her frenzy.

>Or the times when you're unfortunate enough to have to go down the aisle with the feminine products, which inevitably will be in the process of being stocked by multiple gawking male employees who won't just politely get out of your way. "So yeah man, huh huh she was totally wasted and passed out in the back of my car, and... OH! CAN I HELP YOU FIND ANYTHING, MAAM?" in the way that's just completely for the other guy's amusement. I shake my head and turn around, pretending to have come down the wrong aisle. I can just picture their little snickers as I walk away... "Damn dude, looked like she needed some super absorbancy, huh huh!"

>Or the time that I waited in line at the pharmacy checkout for what felt like an eternity behind this greasy guy who would not stop dancing this little jig, then annnounced when it was his turn at the counter "YES! I am picking up some OINTMENT!"

>Or the times that I run into this guy I went to school with who works there, who always tells me he dreams of someday "burning this fucking place down, I swear I'll fucking do it, I fucking hate this this place. Sorry, I gotta go hide the clearance stuff before people try to buy it."

Okay, so the last couple times I had to go for a prescription, I figured I'd use the "convenient drive-thru service" to possibly avoid the craziness. No such luck. I'm almost positive that the guy they have working the drive-thru window used to work either at an oil-change place or as a bouncer. Not that that's a bad thing, he's just kinda gruff and LOUD, considering what he does. I'd say just imagine Tom Sizemore is giving you your prescriptions, but ok - he's a couple notches below that level of intensity. Still. The first time I went, I was in the second lane which has this box on a track (not like the nifty tubes at the bank) which has written all over it DO NOT CLOSE DOOR - DOOR CLOSES AUTOMATICALLY so you know, fuck if I'm gonna be the one to close it and get yelled at by this dude. So of course, the box-thingy gets stuck as it tries to go up and into the building because the door does not close automatically and so he has to tell me "YOU GOTTA SLAM THE DOOR SHUT ON THAT THING, OKAY? LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN!" and it was just a stupid embarrassing experience. Today I go and figure I'll be in the first lane and avoid the box thingy. But still, I get the same guy and he barks at me, interrupts me when I try to answer, he's like "YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP, AND SLOWER" and then later he said something that I didn't know was a joke that needed a response because HE SAID IT LIKE HE SAYS EVERYTHING ELSE. So I halfheartedly smiled and nodded, but wasn't really looking at him and he's like "ARE YOU OKAY OUT THERE, MAAM?" and I thought, you know I guess I can just be glad he didn't look at my prescription and announce into the microphone "OH I SEE - YOU ARE NOT OKAY, ARE YOU? HA HA HA" but anyway. We complete the transaction and he says "Nice car, by the way" and I almost say "Damn, dude - don't be such a fucking dick about it" but then I realize he can only see the side that isn't (still) smashed up, so I just awkwardly grumble "thanks" and chirp out.
I gotta switch pharmacies.


note: this use of "The Wall" coined by Dane Cook, as if you didn't know.
& Look, I used the word dick for two post titles in a row!

Brokedick

I know, it's the same old thing.
Something's always wrong, something's always in need of repair.
It can be rather disconcerting, it seems that whenever I take myself or my car to get checked out, I get about the same reactions:

"Hmm, that's odd..."
"When was the last time you had this checked?"
"You really shouldn't let these things go for so long."
"Woah, you see how that's over there? That should be over here."
"Rrghh, someone really screwed this on tight last time..."

Well, okay - you get the point.
But in my halfassed defense, it's not just the procrastination, it's the not having money and the shame, too.

What happens when I sleep too long

The last two mornings, I've slept in much longer than usual, but still feel exhausted. Woke up drenched in sweat, muscles stiff, feeling like I had ground my teeth away. Angry, sad and confused. Feeling out of touch with reality, like I had a mental breakdown in my sleep. Kept getting trapped in awful dreams that normally I could wake myself out of. I feel like my story is all just predictions of an awful, inevitable future. Nothing makes sense right now.

Good Stuff

(Not exactly today's turn-ons, but just read it anyway, will ya?
Oh, and here's the turn-offs post)

And now... a few things that shed light onto my otherwise miserable existence day:

• - having an irishman at home, ready for some shamrocks & shenanigans later on! (woo! jump-up jump-up and get down!)
• - or more likely, corned beef & cabbage (that's good too!)
• - having the boss gone due to "March Madness"
• - listening to Zero 7

And the following really funny and worth checking out sites that I've been meaning to give props to for some time. I think they're pretty galldarn nifty and they crack me up, so there. Do yourself a favor and go have a looksee:

• Married To The Sea (the collaborative love-child of the two below)
  
• Natalie Dee
  
• Toothpaste For Dinner

And the following blogs I've been stalking lately that are just so damn funny and intelligent, I am rendered speechless...

Gone Feral - found through Tiny Cat Pants and was hooked. Incredibly hilarious, smart and sassy - even able to make light of things like bad doctor visits and jahooby infections.
Tiny Cat Pants - she's on vacation right now, but she never ceases to amaze and impress me with her political views (that make sense, even to me!) and humor. And I never get tired of her cooter talk.

Alright alright, that's enough ass-kissing for now.

And have a happy St. Patty's day everybody!

Today's Turn-Offs

For some reason, I tend to get grouchy on Fridays. I know, what the crap? Guess I save it up during the week. Oh, and I don't have a social life that involves the usual "it's Fri-daaay-time-to-par-taaay" thang. Anyway, here are my grievances thus far, a.k.a. turn offs:

• - tummy aches
• - bitches who cut in front of me to get their gas station crappycinos
• - 404 page errors
• - page-load status insisting on being "done" when infact it is not done, it's not done at all
  
• - empty inboxes
• - toilet odors
  
• - bad local radio
• - as in, that James Blunt "you're be-ooti-fah-hull" song. I've had enough of that. You need to cram it, fuckface.
• - or that new Destiny's Child/Beyonce/whatever the fuck you are now/ song that's just whiney shlock with an offbeat kinda rhythm, sounds like a twix commercial. Oh yeah, you have no way of telling which song of theirs that is by my description, do you?
• - stupid faxes with no cover page
• - my own lame existence

Oh, and how this bulleted list shows up without the bullets, so then I gotta use dashes. That's real nice.

Read My Cookies

Deep thoughts from a fortune cookie:

Patience makes lighter what sorrow may not heal.

Good to know.
As I impatiently cry myself to sleep...

Mmm... smells like celery

Another piece of proof that I'm freaky?
Smelling his underarms really turns me on, it must be the pheromones and what-not. I like to nuzzle my nose in there, inhale deeply, and it can lead to me vigorously dry-humping him. Some people just have a good body smell. His pits smell kinda like celery, yet celery alone doesn't make me hot. Hmmm... (???)

Welcome To My Mind

Ever feel like you're just so deep inside your own head that you can't get back to reality? That you're overthinking the countless possibilites of every situation so much that you couldn't possibly answer anyone's questions in a clear and to the point way? Ever feel like you're living your life like more of a perception of yourself than your real, deep-down self? Or that you're reacting to others based on what you think they think of you, when maybe they don't even think of you like you think they do? Do you ever feel like you're just going through the motions, because that's what you're supposed to do?
I know, don't question these things...

Sneaky Chicken

Well hello there, Mrs. Bawk-Ba-Gawk! What's up? Just sittin on a beer can, lookin tasty? Alright, carry on then...

Chicken Fingers

As I've mentioned, at my former job there were a lot of... interesting folks. One was a 60-something, sort of grizzled woman who had worked there for like 40-some years (no joke). People (including her middle-aged daughter, who also worked there) gave her shit all the time - mostly because she was in a position of authority and could be rather gruff. But since I didn't work directly with her, for the most part we got along pretty well.

For a while everyone took their lunch together at these long picnic tables. It ended up that most of the time I'd be sitting directly across from her. And she'd have to comment about whatever it was I was eating, or wasn't eating. Which, you know - I guess women just do. I didn't comment on what she ate, but I'd be almost physically ill when she brought leftover chicken. It wasn't the chicken itself, mind you. I just did not want to see her eat anything with her hands.

She had these fingernails... that (partly due to working with cleaning chemicals) were less like fingernails and more like overgrown nasty toenails. Why she insisted on keeping them long, I don't know. But they were like these yellowish-brown inhuman looking talons. It made me a bit squeemish. So, as you can imagine when she brought leftover fried chicken (or any messy food) it was really... something. The fried breading would get ALL up under her nails (and with the longass nails, that was quite a bit of breading) and if she was feeling rather expressive with her gestures as she talked, you'd better watch out for those chicken fingers. Of course, when finished she'd proceed to dig out whatever collected on the underside of those talons and eat it, or just chomp on the nail itself. Who knows what all was under there!? Dude, gross. But we'd be talking, so I couldn't really look away. I couldn't look away, I tell you! And she'd ask, as crumbs and spit flew out of her mouth and barreled towards my face "You're done eating already?" And I'd quickly, politely excuse myself to retch...

But other than that, nice lady. Really.

She's My Baby*

I just remember a little chunk of the dream I had last night. It was in an old, somewhat abandoned school. Things were fine for a while, we were all watching some presentation or something in the auditorium and then all hell broke loose. I was running with this group of people. We were all trying to escape, but at every exit we came to, someone would die trying to get out, making our herd a little smaller every time. The walls and floors were shifting and we were all being thrown about by whatever force it was outside. I thought I had found another exit, but at the top of the stairs where there was an open door, were these awful growling and barking dogs with blood and drool coming out of their mouths. Someone went ahead of us and distracted (ie: got chewed on by) the dogs so we could pass through. Then it was just me and this sweet little blond haired girl, and all I wanted was to protect her. We made it into some room that was safe, and she clung to me and whispered "I love you" and I said "I love you too and I'm gonna keep you safe." And I held onto her like I was her mother. But when the aliens/monsters came for us, it was the little girl who suddenly had this power to protect us. She'd spin herself extremely fast and knock out anyone who got close. A miniature tornado, she was. Somehow all I got was a few papercuts (I don't know why) and we made it to safety.
And I swear we were not watching Resident Evil or anything like that last night!
I do have recurring dreams where I'm taking care of or protecting a little girl and I think that could be either: the little girl is me, or it's a sign that my biological clock is ticking.


*A Mazzy Star song. I miss falling asleep to that album "So Tonight That I Might See" even though the last song would usually wake me up. Still, one of my favorites from that time. But yes, I realize this title could've perhaps been used in one of my token "lesbo fantasy posts".

Mama Said

Just a couple quick happy thoughts.

Did I mention that my "not-quite in-laws" are very sweet and funny people? No wonder they've got such a damn good son.
Anyway, thought it was worth noting that my "not-quite mother-in-law" has upgraded my nickname status! Now I hear myself referred to as "The Little" replacing the former "The Little Turd" which, really - was always an affectionate term, mind you.

Oh, and I finally got a haircut this weekend, which upgraded my hair status from "frumpy" to "milfy"! Didn't think there was a difference? Eh, well apparently a few inches shorter will do the trick. Now, I know what you're thinking but really, it was meant as a compliment... even though I'm not a mom. Best not to think about that one too much.



Since I like referencing the old archives lately (I know - how cheap, huh?), here's another post about our funny moms.

Nowhere To Hide

I thought of this again today. There was a Saturday morning a few weeks ago that J had gone into work. I was sleeping in, but startled awake by a thud thud thud on the front door. After living for years in apartments, I'm not so used to having only one door between us and the outside world. And I didn't like the sound of that knock. I froze, swallowing my heart into my stomach. I laid completely still under the covers, listening for the next round of knocks. Bracing myself in the panic-mode that comes from a rude awakening. I waited, but there were no more knocks on the door and I was relieved. Nothing worth freaking out about, but it took a good hour before the anxiety subsided. I don't like unexpected visitors and mostly everyone we know will call us before coming by. It was probably just a Girl Scout or someone else taking donations, or even a neighbor just stopping by to say hello. We don't even live in a bad neighborhood where I should be afraid, but that's sort of the point. It doesn't matter what kind of neighborhood it is. I have this awful fear of being trapped inside my own home. Not just that, but it's one of my fears.
I still have these nightmares about these things that happened so long ago, and I can't deny their presence. The flashbacks of running as fast as I could to lock all the doors in the house I grew up in. Of trying desperately to push the door closed and turn the lock while someone was pushing with all their force on the other side. Or how the moment they thought of another door they could try, I'd have to hope I could reach it before they did. Trying to fight or prevent it would make them more angry, the punishment or humiliation would be worse. I remember how the two rooms in our house that had locks built into the doorknob could easily be unlocked with a straightened wire hanger. That meant that even the bathroom wasn't safe, if I had to go I would just need to try to hold it until later. And I remember the adrenaline I'd have as I'd wedge my bed or dresser in front of my bedroom door... and wait and wait and wait for them to give up and find something else to do. It was a game, to them but not me. I truly believed that they'd kill me if I told anyone. They'd say it over and over again - we'll kill you, no one will get here in time to save you. Once I attempted to call their bluff and my father's hunting rifle was found, cocked cha-chuck and pointed in my face. They thought it was funny when I cried. My fear was fueling them. I had no faith at that time that they wouldn't do it. Of course, somehow they didn't - but that came along with "Ha haa, it wasn't even loaded, stupid crybaby." I was seemingly despised, yet necessary in these games somehow. And I had wanted so badly to be included, to be good, to be fun, to not be the brunt of their amusement. Things like that continued for way too long.
Wouldn't it be something, to go back and right the wrongs that your childhood self couldn't? To fight those fights and never be scared? I had been predisposed with the perfect mentality for it then. I felt that for years I was a magnet, I just brought out the bad side of people. And now although I feel like I've worked through most of these things, paranoia has become some sort of automatic defense mechanism - holding me back from things as simple as answering a knock on the door.

A Fine Collection of Quotes from Coworkers*

• - female coworker, coming out of bathroom "Wooohh, now don't you go in there for about 35 to 45 minutes, girl. Mmm, I tell ya - I wish I could get my money back, 'cause that sausage just went right on through me!"
  


• - full-of-herself coworker telling rest of us about her date "I thought at first he said I'm pretty, because I'm so used to hearing that all the time, but no he said I'm witty and I was like that's so cool, because I really am so witty, it's just no one notices it!


• - stupid girl that only lasted for 2 weeks, referring to 911 "Okay, so they hijacked the plane with a box-cutter? I would've been like hell naw, yall ain't taking me down with no box-cutter. I wouldn'ta been scared of that shit, pleease. Pssshhh, how dumb were those fuckin hostages?"


• - meth-head mom, showing responsibility "I'll only carry a gram of meth on me if I've got my baby in the car."


• - non-smoker towards smokers break area "Goddaamn! Who left one in the ashtray? Smells like a fuckin burnt tampon up in here!"


• - overly thrifty coworker to fellow smokers "Hey, do you smoke Basics? I got a coupon for buy one get one free, I'll sell it to ya for a dollar."


• - outspoken redneck says to only black employee at the time "You know how black people just have that smell? No, no - I'm serious! Well, I think I figured it out - it's the grease they put in their hair, right?


• - same outspoken redneck to same black coworker, being honestly ignorant "Why do all black people like watermelon and fried chicken so much?"


• - black coworker to me, about outspoken redneck coworker "That ol' heifer better watch her fatass, next time she wanna talk some ignorant bullshit to me."
  


• - gay-hating female coworker upon mention of Brokeback Mountain, in seriously disgusted voice "Whatever. Why would I want to watch a couple faggies getting all... faggy?"

* an example of some classy ladies I've worked with

Immaculate Misconception #2

When I was little, I remember hearing adults use the expression "making ends meet" quite often, but I guess I didn't quite understand it.
I knew it was just an expression, but I always thought they meant "making ends-meat" like that was a type of meat. I knew it also had to do with not having money, so I figured maybe ends-meat would be all they could manage to get from the butcher. Someone would say "Oh, that's a shame about Jim losing his job, their family was already having enough trouble making ends-meat." See? Because that's all they had to eat, and it was awful to have to make dinner out of that! And what's worse than not even having ends-meat in the first place?
I'd picture these poor souls, waiting with their cupped hands outstretched, hoping to catch the "end" pieces of meat off of the butcher's table before they were thrown away. Later at home, a frustrated mother would pound away at the gristly, unsavory pieces, trying to make ends-meat for her family. The disappointed children would say "Ughh! Ends-meat again?" and so on.
It made sense to me! But I'm so glad I didn't open my mouth about it in a social situation.

Here's the first misconceptions post, dusted off from way back in the archives.