Lucky, Lucky Star

As Tom Petty once said...

2007-09-06T12:33:00.001-06:00

It's time to move on, it's time to get goin'
what lies ahead I have no way of knowin'
but under my feet baby, grass is growin'
It's time to move on, it's time to get goin'.

Also, in the immortal words of the great Robert Plant--

Leaves are falling all around,
Its time I was on my way.
Thanks to you, Im much obliged
For such a pleasant stay.

But now its time for me to go,
The autumn moon lights my way.
For now I smell the rain,
And with it pain,
And its headed my way.
Ah, sometimes I grow so tired,
But I know Ive got one thing I got to do,

Ramble on,
And nows the time, the time is now
To sing my song.

So, yeah.
I'm closing the door on the Housewife and the Star.
Lucky and Bored, though they may be, they are mantles I must shed.

If you want to find me, please send me an email.

luckystar AT cdadirect DOT com

Thanks for playin'--

7th row, baby!

2007-08-06T19:43:00.000-06:00

The moment they took the stage I felt the thrill of witnessing one of rock's Legends shudder through my body.
I am not specifically a Rush Fan, but I enjoyed every second of their finely tuned and energetic performance.
You don't have to know their songs to feel the heat coming off the strings of that bass.
I recently read a book Neil Peart wrote about his bicycle trip through West Africa, so his was the most familiar face to me.
I couldn't shake the Ozzy Osbourne meets John Lennon look of Geddy himself, but it made him feel more familiar, which was cool.

I took a little self-portrait of Mr. and I, but the sun kepting jumping up and down behind us holding up rabbit ears, trying to ruin the shot.
Fucking SUN!

I darkened it up a bit because I think it's a cool shot of us anyway.

Two weeks from yesterday my classes will start.
One week later the kids start school.
Here.
We.
Gooooooooooo!

I knew I picked the name of this blog for a reason

2007-07-19T12:02:00.001-06:00

I am one lucky little star.

I knew it was a mistake to start talking about my marital issues on here, and I waited a very long time to do it.
I waited until I thought we were at a final decision.
3 rounds of back-and-forth later, I have realized that nothing is final in life, and I'll stop trying to make each step the last.
We have turned a corner, had new insight, gained fresh resolve.
I have hope.
I don't want to jinx anything by saying too much, but we are on the mend.
I am going to stop blogging for a while, stop focusing inward for a while, and just see how this goes.
I have life to live, and a partner who is finally ready and willing to live a joyful life with me.
And I think it's time to make some changes in my routine.

I'm sure I'll be back soon, but in the meantime, thank you all so much for letting me see into your lives and for peering into mine.

hugs all around.

Pictures!

2007-07-12T11:38:00.001-06:00

Book group was lovely.
The forest fires are making the skies all grey; I hope they burn out soon--poor dear trees!!

Ok, I have just a minute before my friend arrives, but here are a few cool pictures from my trip--

Little boys who climbed every unstable rocky surface they could find:

A new bridge:

A fine example of the hilarious signage on the tortuous Maine roads:

...wait a second...we're going north and south at THE SAME TIME???
Whoa.

My light house, Owl's Head Light:

I lived in Owl's Head until I was 8, then moved a whole, entire TWO MILES away to South Thomaston for the duration of my youth.
My parents still live there and all of Owl's Head is swarmed with the extended family on my father's side (my Mom is a California Girl).
I asked my mom to see our geneology, but we never got around to it.
The gist is that my ancestors settled that cove in 1700 something.

Gotta run!
love you guys!

2007-07-08T08:29:00.000-06:00

The weather has taken a turn for the worse, but we're still having a great time.
There was a hail storm the other day, and for a minute I thought I was in Utah.
We've been on boats and to lighthouses and had seafood and fireworks and family fun OUT THE ASS--the ass, I tell ya!

I have been content to be away from everything, blog included.
There have been a couple of all-night conversations, culminating in a final decision.
We spent 5 hours in the car, drifting aimlessly.
We snaked our way through the night from the southern tip of Penobscot Bay to the northern edge and every road in between.
The fog held us in and the roads slipped away behind us as we hammered out the details of our new lives.
But it was like flipping a switch and suddenly--with nothing more to lose--we were able to speak freely, both of us.
It was unreal.
And then we came back to my parents' house and collapsed into the squishy double bed that feels like it's half the size of our king...
and he had reached the point in his mind and heart where he was willing to put it all behind us and start loving me again.

So here we are.
And the airline called on Friday to say that they had no pilot for our Sunday flight and we would be rescheduled to the Monday flight.
Yay for an extra day of vacation!!!

We caught up with some of my high school friends last night, one of whom I hadn't seen since we were IN high school!
We had a lovely time catching up on each other's lives and I am glad to see that the one girl isn't spending nearly as much time partying as she was the first couple of years she moved back here.
Bah.
We went to the bar and it was weird to not run into anyone I knew.
There were a handful of men who graduated 2 or 3 years ahead of us, and one girl who is the younger sister of one of our friends, but that was it for recognizing people.
That mostly just makes me glad for the other people...

We are, as always, considering what it would take for us to be able to move here,
and, as always, I'm sure the plans will fade from our minds as soon as we return to the desert-in-the-mountains.

BBQ with my cousins today, then packing up for our late morning departure from the house (afternoon flight).
I think the kids are all ready to get back to their routine a little bit, but they've had so much fun here and have really behaved quite well.
It's their birthday next Saturday and then they have a week of day camp--mommy's REAL vacation!
I think I'll spend the entire day on the treadmill for the whole week...ugh...
stress makes me eat, and this has been a pretty damn stressful year.
So back off.

I have lost several cool poems in the cluttered folds of my grey matter, but maybe I'll retrieve them some day.

Time is standing still, from where I stand

2007-07-03T12:03:00.000-06:00

Can you see me?
As the world spins by?
I am getting dizzy in this foggy, swirling bubble of stasis...

I am having a wonderful time here in Maine.
The first few days were kind of hazy because of the anesthesia still in my system, the jet laggy affect of getting up at 4am for our flight and the way it all fit together feels like I stepped out of my Utah Life.
I feel like that Life is back there, waiting for me, on pause like a forgotten movie in the DVD player...
I want to stay here for a few more weeks, at least.
I want to spend 35 more days at the beach with my little princes.
I want to eat 12 more lobsters and 8 more donuts.
I want to form relationships with these people again--
my cousins, who were my big sisters from when I was born until I was 8, running around in the woods, building a treehouse, teaching me to ride my bike, playing game after game--board games, improv games, dance routines--and ice skating, sledding, and building snow forts.
I want to be close to these many McMahans, who are part of my heritage.
I want to have more than one evening with my best friends--those I've known since I was tiny.
I belong here.
Utah fucking blows.
I hate that stupid, plastic, shallow, easy place.
I want to see it from a distance, not be drowning in it...everything looks better from a distance.

Anyway.
The trip has been fun so far and there are lots of fun things on deck to fill the rest of the week.

We spent the morning on my brother's lobster boat today.
Learning about the process, watching, and trying to stay out of the way.
It's still early in the season so they were just setting out a small load of traps,
but I helped fill bait bags and they answered all our weird questions with grace.

I have lots of pictures, which I'll be posting as soon as I can get them uploaded.
This afternoon we are taking the kids on a helicopter ride above the bay.
The little guys are OBSESSED with airplanes and jets and helicopters.
OB.
SESSED.
It should be a memorable experience for them.
Tomorrow we're doing small town parade and a family bbq at the ocean (at MY beach!) and then watching the Transformers movie and going to the awesome small town fireworks.
I love this place.

I am going to go shower (I smell like dead fish!) and take a little nap.

I would say I miss you guys, but in my mind you're all just out there, frozen in place until I get back anyway....

Vacationland, here I come!!

2007-06-27T19:54:00.001-06:00

That's what Maine's license plate declares it to be, and for me it is, so why not?

Ok, this is just a "clear the air of icky posts" post, so let's see what I have in the vault...

here's a writing exercise I did a little while ago...not sure where I was going with it, but maybe you'll have some ideas--

“You’re trying too hard.”
She always said things like that in a tone of voice that got under her sister’s skin so smoothly it was like a sliver.
She didn’t want other people to notice her, she just wanted to fit in.

There weren’t many days when she really liked how she looked and then if there were boys around it was even worse.

The School was only for girls, but there was an all-boys school nearby and there were boys always in and out of their buildings, a new approach to the segregation thing—allowing open access in order to keep them from being too mysterious to each other and consequently causing urgent meetings in the dark of night. It worked. Sort of. There were still forbidden liaisons, but the overall student body seemed much more focused on their studies than they could have been.

It was on one of those dark nights—are there often very bright nights?—and during one of those forbidden liaisons that Sydney realized something very important about herself. It startled her, as the thought formed itself into clear words in the front of her mind. She was in the middle of pushing Brent’s hands away from her zipper for the third time that night and wondering if he was as good of a kisser as his roommate looked like he would be when she sat back from him and blinked hard. She couldn’t speak for a moment because the thought was shouting at her from within and she had to pay very close attention to make sure she understood. She had never even given consideration to this before, having been raised on the notion that she would live the same life as her mother, and all the other women in their posh, Belmont neighborhood. She smiled as the realization sunk in, and then a quick giggle burst out of her as the giddiness of this new truth became her sole focus. Brent looked at her strangely and probably said something, but she didn’t hear him. She was already miles away in her mind, and was walking away with her body. She wouldn’t be living the life of her mother and all her Country Club friends. She would rock their worlds. She broke into a run, laughing into the night, her legs, long and lean, propelled her forward.

The next morning Sydney sat in the mahogany and marble dining room playing with her food as her roommate rambled on. Her elation from last night’s great epiphany had receded to a dull glow, but she was still as determined as ever to make the changes necessary to follow this new path. She stood up while Heddie was still talking and dumped her nibbled-at food down the chute.

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

And here's another:

Night swimming. That summer was full of water, but most of our swimming was done at night. Days were for kayaking, and working. Nights were soft with humidity, holding the day’s heat like a sponge. I can almost feel the heaviness of the air, dense and warm, but with a ribbon of coolness. We didn’t know anyone with a sailboat that summer, but it didn’t matter. The ocean was more for looking at, anyway. It was like we knew we were going to be leaving again soon and the ocean was too big to become entirely known to us in just one summer, so we left it to play the role of the background, the setting. The lakes and streams were more tangible, more finite. We started with the one running down Mt. Battie and worked our way through the rest in an unplanned pattern—Mirror Lake, then Megunticook, the Keag River, then Chickawaukee. No rhyme, no reason. But somehow we covered them all. Our almost-matching Subarus ending the summer with almost-matching scratches from so much loading and unloading of our not-even-remotely-matching kayaks. We embarked on that summer as friends, and wended our way toward a deeper connection.

I'll be posting soon, from Maine.
Kisses--

She lives!!

2007-06-26T15:44:00.000-06:00

Ha.
Was there ever any doubt?
The procedure thingy went well, but last night was kind of a bitch.
I spent the ENTIRE night sitting on the toilet, peeing every 3-4 minutes.
Every time I stood up I was in pain, and lying in my bed made it hurt--and made me need to pee worse!
I tried eating something around 2 am, but that didn't exactly work out.
I puked it right back up, which was probaby a good thing, since it was ice cream.
Hey!
My throat was (and still is) killing me.
It felt so good going down, and not that bad coming up.
Heh.
So...how's your dinner...?
Sorry!!!
I have no filter, what can I say?

So finally around 4:30 I was able to lie in bed comfortably for long enough to doze off for 30 minutes or so at a time, waking to pee.
I am truly the Pee Queen...
which is way less sexy than the Princess and the Pea, but somehow I manage!

I am now feeling much more like myself and I think I owe Perc0cet dinner.
(even if it didn't put out until the 4th dose. What the fuck??)

Ok, I'm kind of a rambling, incoherant(er than usual) mess, so I think I'm going to go make lists of what to take on the grand Maine Adventure!!
Oh, and to answer Orange's question: no, I will not be going cold turkey on the blogging while I'm gone.
I never do, so why start now?
:)
I can't believe I just wrote a smiley face in a post...
oh well.
The point is, I'm sure I'll be popping in for updates now and then, and it's only ten days so you'll hardly even miss me!

Also, I love my husband dearly and I hope this trip brings us back together.
I want us both to be happy, preferably together.

I am glad I've aired my dirty laundry, but I wish I had waited until things were better resolved to do so.

Catch ya later, alligators!

I'm off to see the wizard--

2007-06-25T11:47:00.000-06:00

Or is that Wizzer...?
Like...a doctor of wizz, wizz being pee...
Ha.
I'm sooooo funny.

Today is the day for the procedures, is what I'm saying.
They'll be poking and prodding my insides for a couple of hours so who could really ask for more??
I'm sure it'll all go just swimmingly (another urology metaphor??) and I'll tell you all the gory details tomorrow.
Or at least recount the groovy hallucinations I have from the anesthesia.
Woo hooooo!
So far all I have is: I ate a raspberry by mistake while I was out in the garden...
oops.

All is well on the home front at the moment.

Leaving for Maine in 3 days.

Hugs and kisses to you all--

Here's a little song I wrote, you might want to sing it note for note--

2007-06-22T23:13:00.000-06:00

Only, less song, more story.
It's the one I submitted for the Iron Pen 24-hour writing competition.
If I win, I get to read it in front of an audience.
Suh-weet!
I doubt I'll win.
I wrote it in about 30 minutes and didn't even edit it before printing it and rushing to turn it in...
Hey, I'm a minimalist, what can I say?
hee...

Bee Charmer

I don’t know why I told them I was a bee charmer. I have always hated putting on airs and tend to wear them like a child in her father’s Sunday shoes. But the truth was, whenever a stinging creature got in the house, I could let it walk onto my outstretched hand and carry it outside. I never got stung by them. I liked to think it was because they could sense how much I wanted to fly, but it was probably because I used soft movements and didn’t bear pollen. But I did—I told them I was a bee charmer, and so that is how we ended up in the clearing on that thickly hot day.

We ran at first—through the woods behind my house, over moss carpeted rocks and under low-hanging pine branches. The ferns tickled our bare ankles and calves, and we were exhilarated for a few moments. But then the heat found us, slipping down through the shadows of the trees and winding around our chests, creeping up our necks. We slowed to a jog, then a walk, all of us panting. The clearing was still far off, much closer to Rt. 73, which paced the river on its race to the ocean than to Westbrook Street where my house was. We pressed forward, through trees and brush that kept stacking up in front of us, blocking the way.

We didn’t talk much as we walked, and the mantle of a Dare settled over us. It hadn’t been issued as a dare, but I knew that if I was able to reach into that beehive and retrieve a golden, dripping honeycomb, I would be respected and admired like no other. I would be the queen of this little hive of bees in my neighborhood.
When we burst out of the darkness of the forest, the sun was blinding and we tripped over each other as we found our pace again. We walked to the giant tree at the far end of that wide, smooth field. It was remarkably unhilly, for such a rolling, rambling place as this, and the flatness made the tree seem larger. The buzzing grew as we approached, reaching out for us. The hive hung heavily from a branch I could almost reach, and the air hung heavily from the bottoms of the summer-scorched sky.

When we stood in the shadow of the tree I turned to face them.

“I am a bee charmer.”

They just looked at me, unimpressed, anxious about the possibility of getting stung. The tree’s trunk was wider than my stretched-out arms, and the lowest branch was too high to help me climb. I felt a thrill of getting-out-of-it, but then one of the older boys offered me a leg up. His ragged red hair and his scrawny arms gave him the look of a lost scare crow, as he stumbled toward manhood. I shrugged and stepped up, onto his offered thigh.

They all held their breath as I pressed my fingers into the opening on the large grayish mass. The buzzing was muffled with my hand there and the silence was as heavy as the heat.

I was chanting to myself, “The bees love me, the bees love me,” and when I felt my fingers curl around a section of honeycomb, I pulled it loose, withdrew my arm and leapt off the boy’s leg in one fluid moment. I was running for the forest again before the other kids even blinked.

Most of them got at least one sting, but I got none. The honey was sweeter and stickier than any other honey I’d ever seen. I licked every drop of it from the crooked section of comb and placed the empty piece in my window to dry.
I was right. I am a bee charmer.

Good night, sweet ones!

Happy Father's Day, you fathers!

2007-06-16T20:47:00.000-06:00

I for one, plan to make breakfast in bed for the most important father in my life.
And then who knows.
Maybe he'll go golfing.
We got him a telescope and hopefully he won't read this...

Today we painted the hallway and stairs which lead from the basement to the main floor.
This was officially the first house painting I have ever done,
and I have to say it was pretty damn fun.
I am glad it was fun because we have a lot more painting to do before selling the house...

There are many changes on the horizon.
My roller coaster has been on speed lately and I think it's about time for things to level out.
I am ready to face the new world before me.

Because yesterday's post was enough to make MY nuts shrivel--

2007-06-14T16:34:00.001-06:00

(no, I don't have nuts...)
Here is a reposting of the pictures that make ME smile--

This angle makes my forehead look a bit long, but hey, that gives me an idea for the next time I take nude photos of a man...

The semi-retired, but as perky as ever GIRLS:

My only complaint is that I wish they were longer, but I do so love their shape--

Also.
There were hot teenage boys at the pool today.
Older teens--tattoos and earrings...
I found myself distracted by the youth dripping off them like chlorinated water from smooth pecs...
ahem.
...huh...?

So I started a story yesterday, but I'm realizing that I truly have capped myself at 350 words.
I noticed it when I started writing for the newspaper--
editor wanted 500 word articles, but they always seemed to be 350, the last 150 was forced.
I keep writing flash fiction of 350 words and my theory is that my posts are all around the 350 word mark, so my mind has just acclimated to that length.
So......
I need to force myself beyond that barrier repeatedly until it becomes more comfortable.

If I remember to follow through, I may just continue expanding this little starter piece. I have added to it twice now, and it's almost a thousand words...I think it has potential, if I could just slow down and show instead of tell...

“Am I just crazy here, cuz I feel like I’m losing my goddamned mind!” She spoke the words into the receiver of the phone, a shaking hand tapping ash into a non-existent ash tray.

“You’re not crazy, Luce.” He sighed on the other end of the line. “We’ll figure this out.”

Lucy took another drag from the eighth cigarette she had ever smoked, from the pack she had purchased two hours previous and stared at the wall of her home, at once familiar and alien.

He tried to break the tension by remarking again on how odd it was to hear her smoking, but his attempt at a joke fell flat, coming out more like an accusation. Either way, it got no response. Long moments passed, the international toll piling up on his end of the phone call as unheeded as the Surgeon General’s warning.

“Eric.”

Silence.

“Ok, so here’s what I think,” she had a spark of life in her voice for the first time in weeks, so on the other side of the line, on the other side of the world, Eric sat up and held the phone a little tighter, almost holding his breath.

“We need more information, right? I mean, we know this guy has been following me for a long time, but who is he? I know, I know. We’ve asked that question a thousand times, but what I mean is, let’s figure out a way to get him to tell us. We’re smart, right??” She laughed a little, her sleeplessness almost pushing her into hysterical laughter. “We can trick him.”

“I don’t know, Lucy. Let’s sleep on it. Well, you sleep on it. I’m going to go to work now, it is next Wednesday here, after all.” She could picture his smile as he made their same old joke about living on different continents.

“Yeah. Sleep. You think; I’ll sleep.”

When she finally laid the cordless phone back in its charging station she looked at the half-empty pack of cigarettes and the mess she had made there before double-checking all the locks on all the doors, and making sure the blinds were tightly closed.

This crazy stalker had made her a prisoner in her own home, and it was starting to wear on her.

“Hey, ‘John Doe’! Fuck YOU!” She shouted to her empty house. She felt his presence like a shadow, always there. As the echo faded, the skin on the back of her neck stood up. Realization struck her, and she said the name again, the name he used to sign his love notes, his hate notes, his suicide notes. One a day for 6 months.

“John.” She smiled at herself for being so slow to realize the connection. “You do know me, don’t you, freak?”

There were four of them. Four men named John that she knew that year. One she slept with, one she went on a couple of dates with, one she watched blossom from gawky Mormon teen into earnest, contact lens-wearing manager, and one that she welcomed a little too enthusiastically on his visit with her roommate, his sister. It could be any of them, really. And a fifth if you counted the guy who went by the name of “Lu”, but whose driver’s license said “Jon”. He had disappeared years ago, and she felt she knew his roommate better, the one who collected snakes.

So. John G. That cat was the likeliest candidate, making him by default the least likely. Too obvious. His clear, pale skin, his horrible teeth, and that giant case of chef’s knives he always brought to work. He was a chef, but it still felt out of place. He took her to a ballet, even though he knew she was dating the teenage cook from the night shift. He knew she deserved better even if she didn’t.

And then there was John A. That sweet, sweet, kid. It could be him, too. When he traded his coke-bottle glasses for contacts and got a real haircut, she did start to see him as a possible possibility, but no. Still too sweet. He had definitely been in love with her. She knew it, but he was too good, too sweet and fresh and innocent—and she needed to drink down her share of bad boys first. She almost wanted to tell him that, apologetically, “I just need to get these wild boys out of my system first, and then we can get married and be sweet together!” But…how does one really say such a thing? And so she didn’t. His uncles were polygamists, and his sister looked like Laura Ingalls Wilder. He was so earnest but still just a little off. He could have been further off than she noticed back then, and it could be him.

And then…oh, Jon L! That one. He would have charmed her if she hadn’t seen it coming. But whenever she sees it coming she sidesteps charm, because it’s only used as a weapon. His dark eyes, his "vintage" Camaro (read: falling apart, but sexy anyway) and his love of words. She could still see him crouched on the greasy floor by the grill, sobbing. She knew he was still drunk from the night before, she believed him when he said his tears were for the death of a relationship. She even believed him when he said he wasn't yet 21 and that he would let her drive his car for a case of beer. All she wanted was to touch his sculpted cheeks and feel his long hair on her skin. And that was all she got.

********

Feedback welcome.
Especially from You...

More Stuff You Wish You Didn't Know About Me:

2007-06-13T15:00:00.000-06:00

I am sitting in the doctor's office waiting for them to cram something up my PEEHOLE to look inside my bladder. You are jealous, I know.

Update (which you should skip if you hate it when your grandmother talks about her icky bodily functions):
I am now home.
And that was way less fun than it sounds.
They told me it's about the same as a speculum on the discomfort scale,
only they forgot to mention that if your urethra is inflamed then it hurts like hell.
Or like "fuck"--which is the word I said loud enough for the people in the waiting room to hear.
But, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself, cuz I didn't find out about the inflamation until later.
BAH.
And then they filled my bladder with water to see how big it is.
It's as small as I thought, as it turns out.
Nothin' like having someone shoving stuff up your urethra with a bladder so full you'd use the men's room at a truck stop just to find relief.
Feh.
So then they tell me that the CT scan the other day revealed that I have a couple of kidney stones, but those aren't what's causing all this unpleasurable activity cuz they're still just hangin' with their homies in my (left) kidney.
Sweet.
My bladder looks "fine".
My urethra, however, is inflamed and so they are going to stretch it.
What the fuck?
Also, they're going to stretch my bladder while they're all up in my bidness because that'll help them determine whether or not there's more of a problem there than there appears to be, but the best part is I might actually be able to hold more than an hour's worth of PEE at a time!
Wooot!
I am the queen of the potty, and not just my mouth, baby!
So in a week or so I'll go in to the hospital for a lil outpatient lovin' and get my urethra and bladder stretched out as well as have some soundwave thingy to break up the Stone.
I'm gonna get De-Stoned, baby!
Unstoned?
Whatev.
It'll be super fun.
And if you think I'm weird for being all excited that there's something wrong with me,
then apparently you've never been in the position of knowing something's wrong but not being able to figure it out for a while.
Knowing is so much better than wondering!

(for cleavage and legs, scroll down a bit--it'll help clear your mind...)

Today I am feeling reckless

2007-06-12T20:28:00.000-06:00

Perhaps it is because today is a day with a black mark on it,
a day I've been fearing since January 12th.
Or maybe it's the result of an afternoon too full of sun and too empty of beer.
I got so bored at the pool that I took pictures...

Hello, friend!

Hell-oooooo, friend(s)! *wink*

(I took about 10 of these...and then wanted to text them to random people and see if they could guess what the picture was of--the original picture is a sideways view, so it is harder to tell what you're looking at...)

Leggo my eggo, bitch!

And now I'm home and I'm sunkissed and content.
But I also just feel like pissing into the wind, or running with scissors--
riding bareback.
Eh.

It is so easy to make resolutions when there is no one to hear them spoken.
I make decisions all the time and don't follow through, but this is it.
I'm doing it.
I'm feeling so reckless I'm thiiiiiiis close to spouting off the exact details of the shitstorm I'm navigating right now.
but I won't.
It's probably fairly obvious from my wacko posts that I've been having some marital issues, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Let's hope that the twelfth of every 5th month ISN'T the end of my world, m'kay?

***********

And on a happier note--
The most darling man (topping my list of sexiest older men for a while now) has taken my challenge to see which of us can get back in shape first!
If any of you want to join us, just speak up.
That man is goin' DOWN!!!
(not like that, Jerry. PERVERT!)
Heh.
Ok, like that...but just ONCE--we have weight to lose here, mister!
You know, that gives me an idea.
Why don't they have Sex For Weight Loss clinics?
They could be fully stocked with porn stars and condoms and you just have to weigh in every day;
as long as you're losing weight you stay.
The deal would be that the porn stars would be required to make you do all the work.
Bingo--weight loss!
Hmm...I think I'll apply for a small business loan...
heh.
Well, my new house is significantly closer to the Nevada border, ya know.
I bet they allow shit like that.
In any case--
the great Get-Back-In-Shape-A-Thon is on!!!!

It's Monday, where I come from

2007-06-11T15:54:00.000-06:00

I heard this song today as I was driving in my car.
I liked it.
So when I got home I googled its ass and tracked it down.
It helped me to see what a crazy ole drama queen I've been lately, though.
I only know of one way to remedy that, but I don't know if I will.
It's like...when there's something that you want and you're told you can't have it--
absolutely not
nuh-uh
no way
no how
NEVER--
then your feet start shifting your weight back and forth,
like they don't know whether to stay or to go.
(They know that if they stay there will be trouble...
but if they go it will be double.)
It also makes your eyes twitch.
And increases attacks of indigestion,
insomnia,
and
general
all-around
irritability.
You want to roar at the man who hands you the clipboard
or shove the woman who takes your order.
For no reason.
Or at least...
No reason that connects the act to the stranger.
Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
So, the solution is simple:
have that thing you're forbidden, and you'll stop thinking it is the air you must breathe,
the water which, when drunk, becomes part of every cell in your body,
and...when drunk, that thing is your apricot hefewiezen...
That thing, which becomes perfect in your mind because your mind is its only residence now.
That thing which was perfect before, but we'll pretend there were faults because usually there are.
That thing...
in its beauty and dearness.........
that thing does reach unusual and unnatural proportions--
gaining volume and power until it consumes you.
So.
It's best to just have it.
...who me?
rationalize?
Nah.
*wink*
But you know, life is for being happy, right?
And life is for LIVING--
Life is for loving and I don't just mean sex--
I mean offering help to those who need it and
offering an ear to those who need it,
and offering sex to--
oops.
Sorta came full-circle there, didn't I?
heh.
Well.
Thanks for being the table on which I can dump out the giant purse which is my mind and attempt to organize it.

I bought fresh raspberries today and I am nearly quivering over the decision of
just
what
to do with them!!
Becky says pie, but then she CAN say pie cuz she's a stick figure.
That chick on the Discovery Health show, Healthy Decadance says a chocolate raspberry smoothie...half the fat, all the flavor.
Eh.
I've never been a smoothie kinda gal.
I prefer chewing.
So.
I'll keep you posted.

Buh.
Bye.

Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share...

2007-06-10T09:13:00.000-06:00

Led Zepellin was not one of the performers last night, but that line just seems fitting.

I went to the True Colors concert, at our beautiful amphitheatre.
For the first time in my life
(read that again, with feeling)
I was glad to have an actual seat at a concert.
I wasn't really in the mood to jam out
(either with or without my clam out...heh...)
and it was nice to just sit back and soak up the sunshine,
my cold, $8.50 draft beer in a convenient cupholder on the seat,
and enjoy the not-too-hot-thank-god sunshine and groovy music.
The best performance of the night goes to the Dresden Dolls,

a new-to-me band, although it should probably go to Cyndi Lauper herself, because she was truly adorable in every way and put on a great show.
Margaret Cho was simply lickable as the MC--
making good use of the plentiful Mormon-themed material available to her, with immitations and stories as well as lots of great political crap.

Here's the comment I left here from my phone last night:
Deborah Harry just left the stage
and right now the stereo is playing Amy Winehouse's cover of The Zutons' "Valerie"!!
It's almost as if You were here...
like my wish.
But you weren't there, it was just me.
My husband and I sat in silence for most of the show,
but finally the beer kicked in and he started talking.
We shared some good laughs then, in the cool night air.
But there was darkness around us long before the sun slipped behind the mountains.
I hope we can heal.

I've been having a great time with my kids this weekend,
and am truly looking forward to the coming weeks where we have nowhere to be in the mornings and we can go to the pool and for walks and stuff.

All of this angsty crap I write lately is my therapy, so please don't think this is all there is to my current life.
I still make people laugh, just not here.
I am still a good listener, just not here.
I am still having fun with my kids and having world-famous sex with my husband.
I still work out and cook and read and clean my house and sing along to music.
I just have a heavy load to lug around in an awkwardly shaped bag at the moment.
I want nothing more than to make everyone else (and myself) happy, but I don't know how.
I am as immobilized as every story in James Joyce's The Dubliners.
I'm the girl who wouldn't get on the boat, even though it was her only way out of a nowhere life.
I'm the boy who wouldn't buy anything at the bazaar after finally making it there, even though it would have brought him closer to the girl he wanted so desperately.
The rock and the hard place are my left hand and my right.

I keep thinking that once I make this decision I will be able to return to myself,
but how do I know?
How do I know which decision to make?
Rock.
Hard place.
Both decisions are completely right.
And completely wrong.
They both have devastating consequences while offering peace and joy.

I think I'll go shower, then feed the kids (again) and wander over to the pool.
We may even venture out the movies this afternoon if we think the little guys can sit still for the entire 7 and a half hours of Pirates 3...

I have the best intentions, I really do...

2007-06-08T21:05:00.000-06:00

but I guess it's just not in the stars for me to lay off the deeee
pressing
melod
ramatic
crap.
Why?
Because sometimes loving people hurts so intricately that tracing the paths of that pain as it zings through one's body would take an ant a lifetime.
Why is it hard to see someone you love loving other people?
Usually it's good, usually it's nice.....
but sometimes, the ache is overwhelming and I feel myself falling into an abyss of thick, black greed.
For just a moment my chest tightens and I want all
that
love for myself.
But then I remember...
I send love out into this world in a vast array of styles, flavors, textures--
and it gives me joy to find other people who do the same.
I just sometimes wish that I was the only sun in the sky...
and then I remember that I am, but the stars are welcome and adored, too.
yeah.
I'm such a psycho, you guys.
Christ.
All
mighty.

2007-06-07T11:54:00.000-06:00

Why must I live my life tormented by my desires?
I crave everything
anything
something.
I yearn for the dusty streets of the Depression Era Midwest.
I ache for the sight of a tornado hurtling itself across the expansive flatness of landscape that I can only imagine.
I grow breathless at the urgency with which I want to be in a kayak on the ocean right now, or to know what it feels like to use a paint brush and a pallette to create an image of beauty.
I want to be everything, everyone.
I want to know which way, which way the wind blows...
I want there to be flashing lights illuminating my Path.
I want to stop wanting so damn much!!!
I want to figure out why I can't be satisfied with this beautiful life I have.
Is it me?
Will I never be satisfied?
Or is it that there truly is something missing?
And is it what I think it is?
Or something else entirely?
And, wouldn'tcha know it, my psychic is on vacation.
:D
Nah, she doesn't know either.

What I do know is that I had a great workout
and I will now eat a healthy, yummy lunch
followed by a shower
and then I will pop into Old Navy for the shirt I've been wanting since the last time I was there.

Mother Nature is having mood swings...

2007-06-06T11:05:00.000-06:00

It was in the 90s Sunday and Monday, but Tuesday looked bleak.
I woke last night to the sound of thunder (how far off, I sat and wondered)...
uh.
No, let's try that again.
I was not humming a song from 1962, and while I'll agree that it is funny how the night moves, I will not allow this post to be hijacked by a song that was not covered by Metallica.
Ahem.
So...
where was I?
Yeah...last night I went to bed late, but restless.
(which is different than being young and restless or having restless leg syndrome or ramsey-hunt syndrome or having a niece named Ramsey or...ahem.)
Well, fuck.
This is going nowhere at a rather fast clip, innit?
Ok, last night I went to bed late, but I was wide awake.
I thought about people I've loved and lost along the way (yes, that's probably another song lyric, but if we hold hands and run like mad, maybe we'll make it through this without any further interuptions...not counting this one...)
fuck.
As I tossed and turned, the lightening flashed through the top, decorative/unshuttered window and forced my eyes open.
There was deep, rumbly-wonderful thunder and I hoped for more lightening, but dozed off again before it arrived.
Today it's chilly and dark and wet.
Crazy weather patterns.
They're a little bit psychedelic...
I dreamed last night from A to Z...nah, more like A and Z.
But that doesn't really mean anything to anyone but me.
I dreamed of the apocolypse, slowly approaching, by way of the sea.

I am oddly calm but feeling unmoored.
Untethered, upside down.
I am drowning in indecision.
But my house is sparkling clean and I have been banished from my mother in law's (by my husband, who wants to see if she is willing to do what it takes to make her own crazy dreams come true instead of forcing other people to do illogical things to help her out...).
I need to hike to the Diamond Fork hot springs, that's what.
I talked about it a little while ago and we didn't do it.
I need it.

I'm sorry for the crappy posts lately.

Happy June, fellas!!

2007-06-02T22:05:00.000-06:00

My Lucky Star wind chime!

I gained a guitar from the great lawn sale adventure.
My very own acoustic...
But...
for your guitar, I gently weep.

There's a line from my new favorite artist, Amy Winehouse, that keeps running over my tongue like cold milk--
You walk away, the sun goes down.
It just feels so final.
But I don't believe in finality so it shivers me timbers a bit.

I heard a song today that I thought was Bob Dylan, so that counts, right?
Turns out it was Dire Straits, but whatev.
It's a song I knew well as covered by the Indigo Girls, so beautiful in its raw passion from a woman to a woman.
Romeo & Juliet.
I can't listen to it without feeling it, you know?
That song...it is the embodiment of just a breath of a moan lingering on the edge of a husky voice, tense with the agony of unrequited love.
That whole, "I love you like the stars above, I'm gonna love you til I die" line!!
GOD damn, baby!
That shit, oh, fuck, that shit sends me off into the milk-smeared sky.

I still believe in the kind of world where the things we never believed possible can become so.
This world is getting uglier every minute that belief wavers--
the belief that the one thing I've always needed but never knew existed can still be mine.
I die a little every second I have to entertain the possibility that it was all just a figment of my imagination.

I am in a labyrinth and I will find my way out.
Me, David Bowie and that hot brunette.
--'ello.
--Did you just say, "hello"?
--No, I said, "'ello", but close enough.
I have always wanted to be dropped into a giant, hedge maze (hold the Jack Nicholson, than you very much!) and now here I am.
It's darker than I thought it would be, but the hedges are comfortingly evergreen-scented.

Yes, I'm pretty sure I've crossed into Crazy Artist Type territory, but I'm totally ok with that.
Hell, living in my head sounds kind of fun.
I always identified with that Ally McBeal storyline to an uncomfortable degree.

Tomorrow, boating with friends.
A beautiful lake, good company, what else do we need???
Monday, the kids start a week of day camp.
I know, I know, I'm evil for signing them up for the first week of summer vacation, but I thought I would be spending lots of time with wacko mother-in-law.
Turns out I probably won't, but oh well.
After this week's marathon of moving useless shit, I could use the break.
My own house could stand a bit of a scrub down, frankly!

Mouse Poo, Footprints, and You

2007-05-30T16:18:00.000-06:00

I saw your footprints today
and breathed again.
I heard a song that reminded me of you
and then
another, and another.
The radio was taunting me--
or was it laughing while reaching for my hand to draw me into the quiet of its embrace?
Either way.
That one verse...
it was a zinger, alright.
The song made me smile and I spaced out, lost in thoughts or lack thereof.
Just driving.
And then that verse leapt into my chest and pushed out a sob.
Damn.
That was cool.
Your finger prints are all over the glass of my life today.
And I like it.

I still smell like my MIL's dusty garage full of decades of unsorted memories, incomplete projects, and ungiven gifts.
I am pretty sure there is mouse poop in my hair or in my nose.

Hello, hanta virus, pleased to meet you.
I counted spiders for a while, but then I got distracted by the sunshine.
It was a good day, a productive day.
The best find of the day was an entire box FULL of reams of unused plastic newspaper bags.
...because she knows a guy with a list of 100 uses for plastic bags.
Oh, goody.
I loaded the bed of a truck with 30 or 40 apple and orange boxes.
California oranges, Washington Apples.
But one of the boxes of apples stuck up, above the others, its country of origin smiling back at me like a tall, bald man.
Hello, Enza apples, pleased to meet you.
(Can't think "enza" without thinking "enzyte"...hee...)

Yes, a good day.

We need to go visit The House again.
We're both feeling a little hesitant about the distance it is from everyone else in our lives.
Maybe we could get them all to move out there.
Heh.
Ok, maybe I could get my helicopter license (and pick up a chopper with my spare change) and ferry everybody out there...?
DAMMIT.
I'm just not growing MORE realistic with my suggestions, am I?
Well.
Maybe they could all just suck it.
Anyway we need to go remind ourselves why we want to live there.
No, make that NEED to live there.
I could drop out of school and focus on being a
world
famous
author!!!
Yes!!!
It'll happen if I keep wishing for it, right?
I don't like, have to Work for it or anything, do I?
Rock on.
(the new house is only 15 minutes further from school so I don't reeeeallly have to drop out, but it's fun to pretend!)

In other news, we are now at T-minus 4 weeks from our trip to Maine!!!
Got down sat on a bench, I'm excited about that!!!!
Home.
Ocean breezes, seafood of all sizes, shapes and flavors, and family........
yaaaaaaaaaay!!

Also, this is the fortune I got on Sunday after my hike through the gorgeous Uinta mountains with Jasmine (did I even write about that? Glorious, it was!)

It says, "Trust your intuition. The universe is guiding your life."
I'll drink to that!

When the wind blows

2007-05-29T21:50:00.000-06:00

I still tend to rock.
...because I am a rocker at heart.
With a soul that can roll.

So...
hot on the heels of losing a best friend
(who was somehow able to make me feel like it's ok)
I am now losing another.
I celebrate her success, I squeal with delight over the job offer.
I feel true joy for her future.
But.
Then in the quiet of my empty house I realize...
she'll be on the other side of the country now.
And we've never been phone-chatters, but I know we'll figure it out.
I just have to sigh at this turn of events.
Because now what?
I have other friends.
But.
Some of them cause tension in my house, so I can't fully dive into the warm embrace of their love, and some of them are not yet a deeper part of my life--
the casual friends, the good acquaintences.
I know I can count on them to pick up the slack, and I know that there are other dear souls out there for me to love.
But for now, I just want to cry.
I don't do well without a solid Best Friend around.
It's not that I'm weak...
I just don't know how not to have one.
Kindergarten was a blur,
but when I met Julie in my first grade class, as we sat by the coat racks playing with those awesome plastic/rubber horses!
Oh, it was like finding a sister.
Oddly enough, I already had a sister named Julie.
She was prim and proper (still is) and did not share my daydream-believing, queen of homecoming to-be ways!
My surrogate sister did, though.
I've talked about her a lot, and she's not the one leaving, but you know me and TANGENTS!!
The point is, from that day on, as a not-yet-6-and-a-half-year-old, shy as hell girl, I have had at least one super close friend and it's just not getting any easier when our life paths move us apart.
Each of them is still dear to me, and I wouldn't consider them "lost".
Jasmine is about to move to the east coast, to take her dream job and I am so completely thrilled for her.
I'll be ok.
I just have pms today and I'm feeling rather friendless at the moment.
POOR, POOR, ME!!
Wah.
Sniff.
Guess what I should really be saying right now?
Thank you, dear universe, for sending me such amazing friends and allowing me to love and be loved by them for whatever length of time we have.
Yes.
I believe that.
I will just miss our hikes and our walks and our bottles of Reisling.
I hate Utah.
(just haven't said that for a while; it doesn't really apply)

I should really try not to post when the hormones are raging.
Heh.

Well.
The next two days are devoted to moving poo at my MIL's house, so pray for me.
Or drink for me...
That woman has more stuff in the smallest room of her house than I have in my ENTIRE house.
I swear to thumb-suckin' baby Jesus!
At least our friends are coming over to watch the next Jazz game tomorrow night instead of just a bunch of guys I don't really know and am not allowed to flirt with.
heh.

Peace out.
Or in...?
eh, whichever.

Another lovely day at the pool--

2007-05-26T15:29:00.000-06:00

With my book.
And my patchily applied sunblock.
I am a sun goddess
(in patches, at least)
and I am happy.
Will I let my hair return to its natural color of blondish reddish brownish?
The sun does such marvelous things to it.
The black is grooooo
veee.
But.
I crave Me.
I feel like I am holding my breath lately,
waiting for something.
Don't know what.
I am forgetting, with suboncious motivation, to put on the mascara which is my only makeup.
I am letting my hair grow past its attractive length; needs a trim.
I am letting my Hair grow...there...because it is a sexy thing to be bald,
and I feel un-
non-
anti-
sexy.
I wish to revel in my commonness,
to bathe in the ordinary.
Because secretly I know that I feel most beautiful when I pay the least attention.
Don't misunderstand--
I currently spend 2.3 minutes a day on my appearance.
I just want less.
I want to melt into the background and give up my hope of being anything other than what I am.
I want to stop expecting the impossible from those around me in this busy world.

I refuse to keep lying here,
draped in the shroud of ecstasy.
I would rather be nestled in the moist, dark earth with you.
I will slip down between the knife-like blades of emerald green
and float like a wish through the dense, dark earth to you.
Not giving up my Life,
but not needing It at the moment either.
Safety is here, in the dark earth,
with what is left of you
in this velvet-lined box.
I am not afraid of you in the dark, quiet earth.
You cannot hurt me, nor would you if you could.
You are my Savior,
my silent champion,
my guardian angel.
If I could be water,
I would be sprinkled over the earth
on that verdant and shady ledge.
I would seep into you
and re-animate your limbs
to convey your sharp mind back into this realm.

........I am getting creepy.
I think I'll go make food for tonight's Jazz playoff game.
Reading a book called Jazz, watching a team called Jazz, going for a hike with best friend Jazz.
Life is...jazzy, you might say.
And I am infatuated with Amy Winehouse.
Google her.
Download her.
Oogle her.
But most of all, let her possess your hips and your feet and your neck as they sway and shuffle and arch.....
She is Sex.
Perhaps I'll let her be my surrogate for a bit, since I am apathetic toward my own sexiness at the moment.
Heh.
Happy Saturday, dears.

Unwilling to Wallow

2007-05-25T16:16:00.000-06:00

That's me!
Yay!
Down with wallowing!
I do, however, have a mean case of PMS.
I wondered why I was loathing the very existence of my pool and my kids and/or their desire to spend this entire day there.
I wondered why I was hungry again when I just finished lunch.
I wondered why I wanted to growl at my kids in response to every word they spoke.
And then I remembered.
My body and the moon both do this stupid thing where they move through phases and this particular phase is the grouch-before-the-storm phase.
It's funny, though, because I'm in a cheerful to average mood.
My thoughts are clear and fresh.
But there has been that inexplicable little edge all day.
I'm just glad I figured it out, because it was about to piss me off.

Last night I had a dream that my husband and I were riding on a bus and the bus was hijacked.
The assailants were of middle eastern origin, and kinda hot.
We had been watching X-Men 3 last night (oh dear GOD I love the X-Mens!) and one of the women was an actress who had played a middle eastern terrorist's mother on the last season of 24 that I watched...maybe the one before last?
Anyway.
That's what planted the seed.
So in the dream, one of the bad guys shot my husband--didn't kill him, just shot him.
It was pretty scary, just wondering what they would do to us, etc.
And then I started considering seducing one of them in order to get out of there alive.
Ha!!
That is SOOO me.

So the pool has officially opened again for the season, and it feels great!
They switched from normal style keys to little keycard thingies so I had to show ID and tell them which house I live in, etc, which is fine by me (except that I had to reload the already-wet kids into the car to go back for my license. grrr).

Hope you all have fabulous, long weekends!

Thursday...and you know what Thursdays are for!!!!

2007-05-24T09:02:00.000-06:00

Thursdays are for thucking.
...what?
I developed a lisp.

And I'm still having severe typing issues.
I really think I might have a brain tumor.
But that's ok; it's kind of fun.

It is a beautiful, sunshine day outside,
and the clouds in my personal world have lifted, too!
(momentarily)
What? You think I am going to fall for the sunshine act?
Puh-leeez.
As if I would be stupid enough to think the rain clouds, the thunder, and the watermellon-sized balls of hail will ever be permanently banished from my little weather system.
But I have an umbrella.
I also had a really hot lesbian sex dream last night.
Sorry for the attention deficit disorder; just remembered!
Mmmmm....
it was super hot.

I finished watching "Stranger than Fiction" last night.
I am madly in love with that movie.
Everything about it spoke to the part of me that resides in the golgi apparatus of my cells.
(I loved biology, bite me)
The girl, the oddly slim Will Ferrell being not-funny but still making me laugh, and gorgeous Emma Thompson, as a tense-with-writer's-block, chain smoking, brilliant author!
Oh, and don't let's forget how Dustin Hoffman nailed his role as the professor who was just nutty enough to help Ferrell solve his bizzaro problem!
...and...BUSTER!!!
Don't know the actor's name, but if you watch Arrested Development, you know who I mean.
That guy rocks.
Watching it made my skin crawl with unwritten words,
my fingers fairly dance with unspilled thoughts.
Someday I will write a book.

I just listened to the BEST song.
I'm not kidding.
It's the most beautiful song ever written.
The words are haunting, but in a good way.
Like Casper.
You know how some songs just speak to you?
Yeah.
And no, I don't think I'll tell you what song it is because then you'll all know that the Black Eyed Peas, "My Humps" moves me like a power ballad from an 80s hair band.
Aw, shoooot, I just spilled the beans...
but, my humps ARE pretty
fuckin'
awesome, wouldn't you say?
Heeee.
(did my distraction technique work? You forgot all about wondering what the song was, didn't you? Ooooops. Now I've gone and called attention to it again! Well. It makes my knees weak like Bo Bice--when he performed on American Idol, NOT when he released his first album...shudder...)
It's the kind of song that makes you wish fan clubs weren't so geeky,
or stalking of musicians wasn't so "already been done."
Becuase then you could just walk up to whoever was responsible for the music/lyrics/whichever part moved you most and hug that person and maybe even press your lips softly to his or her neck where it meets the collar bone and say, "Thank you for reading the pattern of my soul and passing it through the filter of your guitar strings; my soul looks awful sparkly with your voice wrapped around it."
But alas, that Fergie probably has a body guard or something.
(what???? My humps are VERY spiritual to me!!)
(uh...humps are tits, right? Cuz if not, just scratch this entire segment...)

Speaking of American Idol,
I have broken the addiction.
I did not watch a single episode this past season.
Not one.
I, in fact, only watch the following shows:
Desperate Housewives (hey! fuck YOU. I know it's a soap opera, but I don't care.)
House (Hugh Laurie inspires emotions and physical responses in me that I can't even describe...)
The Office (sometimes I laugh so hard it hurts; other times I squirm or ache or sigh)
Scrubs (laugh. til. I. cry.)

And that is it.
I record My Name is Earl, too, and I like it a lot but just haven't had time to watch it for a while.
So I spend about 3 hours a week watching TV--minus all the commercials, cuz that's what TiVo's for!
Not too shabby.
So what in the bloodiest of hells am I doing with all my time???
Cuz I'm sure not being productive.
Shopping.
Reading.
I guess that covers it.
Oh, and working out.
I AM PATHETIC.
Seriously.
I need a job.
Or a hob
by.
Nah.
The pool opens tomorrow.
All I need is a bikini wax (ok, Nair, but wax sounded cooler...)
and a hat with a wide rim so I can read my books without going blind from the glare.
Fuck writing.
Fuck cleaning.
Fuck fucking!
I'm doing nothing this summer but swim and read,
and anyone who has anything to say about it can talk to my manager!
(...uh...anyone want to fill an unpaid intern position as my manager...?)

Ok.
I'm off to hit the gym, do some quick shopping, and go to school for yet another unbirthday!
You'd think that with twins they could manage to celebrate their summer birthday on the same randomly selected day, wouldn't you?
I know I would think that, but we'd be wrong.
Oh well.
It's fun to see them in their little world...so cute and all-grown-up, mixed with oh-so-small!

Have a fabulous day.

Just got my ass kicked by a fitness instructor

2007-05-22T10:48:00.000-06:00

Hot damn, is she brutal.
This is the second week in a row I've gone to her class and I'm doing better.
I need to cease going 30 minutes early to do extra cardio, though...
When you're already lagging behind during the warm-up, there's a problem.
Although, to be fair, this woman does a hard-core warm-up.
She has a voice much younger than her face
(non-smoker who sunbathes?)
And a body much lankier than its inches
(pilates..?)
Dunno.
But she played good music today.
Not as good as Mona's AWESOME suggestion, however!
Thanks, darlin!

I'm supposed to be having breakfast/brunch/lunch with Becky the non-blogger today, but I seem to have been stood up.
That's alright.
I have chores.

I'm supposed to buy a tarp to put the dirt on after we dig a hole for the new tree I got to replace the dead one in our parking strip.
But...if I go missing, just go ahead and start looking for my body, wrapped in that tarp, ok?
Things are not going so well around here, you might say.

In brighter news, the HOA is opening our pool on Friday, which is a full week sooner than I expected, so that's pretty sweet.
They switched the lock from key to card, so I need to remember to pop in tonight and pick mine up.
Wooooooooooooooot!!!
The kids are so excited
...and they're not the only ones!
Me too, me too!
Splish splash, baby.

I am a piece of dry toast

2007-05-21T12:35:00.000-06:00

I keep thinking of cool things to write while I'm away from my computer.
But, that doesn't do me any good.

We are reconsidering the Big Move.
More like considering postponing it until we're actually READY.
We are in love with the location, and would buy that house in a heartbeat if we didn't already have 2 houses...
We are both feeling a little overwhelmed by how much effort and luck it's going to take to make this happen in under 2 months.
It's just too bad we weren't already ready to look for a new houses when we found that one...
We are still going to go ahead with preparing both homes for sale,
and we are still going to put them both on the market, but...
I think we're going to allow ourselves to let go of the urgency.
If that is Our House, I believe we will still get it.
We were just getting too freaked out.

We watched Eragon last night.
I am kicking myself for not reading it first; I may still read it.
It was good.
Not amazing, unless you consider the age of its author.
But here's what struck me most about it:
the dragon and rider were like soul mates.
The egg would wait to hatch until a man with a good heart found it, and then it would hatch and be forever linked to this man, its rider--dying if its rider was killed.
I bet I would love the book.
It just reminded me of the time that I had a d-ragon.
And we would fly together, prevailing against evil.
Those were good times.
My d-ragon will always be linked to me, too.

I will get through this tough time because someobody told me I could.
I will try not to wallow, but I'll tell you a secret.
Promise not to tell?
I don't honestly know if I can do this.
I decided to be me again and to live my best life, but this was not part of my plan.
I still have other friends--other "best" friends, even--but I feel deflated.
I feel like this is symbolic and forecasts my future.
I will be unable to write from the heart in this state.
I am not yet convinced that it is worth it.
I am not yet convinced that I can live This Life.

Today's song is brought to you by little miss skater chick whose name is the french word for the 4th month of the year:
Avril Lavigne, "Keep Holding On"
I'm attempting to download it but it's not really working.
You definitely get what you pay for with free music download sites.
My computer is acting a little fucky lately, so that's half the problem.

Also, Blog Collector has updated its free software so that Beta Blogger will now work (supposedly) with their awesome system of downloading your whole blog and turning it into a pdf file.
(was I just redundant? I don't know what the "f" in "pdf" stands for, but if it's "file", then I offer my apologies)
Oh, that reminds me.
I bought a tree today and when I wrote out the check I mispelled "nursery" AND "hundred".
WHAT IN THE FUCK IS THAT ALL ABOUT???
I wrote "nurserey" and "hunderd"--then added another 'e', "hundered" and was still scratching my head.
I started over.
Pathetic.
Like I don't know how those are spelled???
Stupid fucking hand.
Hey, hand?
Write the goddamned correct letters, m'kay?
Thanks.
Oops...
I got distracted there, didn't I?
Blog Collector.
Download it.
It's awesome.
I'm having issues with that, too, but that's probably just because of the computer and it's fuckiness.

Have a swell day, kiddos.

Weekend Update--

2007-05-20T10:30:00.000-06:00

And I don't mean the kind hosted by Dennis Miller, Norm MacDonald or Tina Fey.
This one's almost as funny, though.
I promise.

Weekend: so far so good.

Yesterday we went to play laser tag for the step son's birthday.
He's 11 now, and is the same height as I am.
That's 5' 4" for those of you playing along.
Due to his mother's status as an Amazon woman, he will continue growing at the speed of a bamboo shoot for the next 5-8 years and will not stop until he can reach 7 feet with a moderately sized mohawk.
Anywho.
It was great fun.
The little guys and I had never played before,
and it took us a few minutes (or nearly the entire first 30 minute game) to get our bearings.
There was another group of about 15 boy scouts in there with us, and that actually made it less fun.
After their half-hour was up we had the place to ourselves and that was WAY better.
But...
Somewhere in the first 5 minutes of the first game, in the dark, oh-so-very dark and mazey room...
I changed direction quickly and walked into a wall.
Yes, go ahead and laugh.
Step son even witnessed it, rounding the corner just as I rebounded.
"Did you just run into that wall???"
Yes, yes I did.
Shut up.
We chuckled, I winced, game went on.
"Game" I should say.
I spent most of the time trying to find the recharging stations or helping Max find his dad...because the twinners and Dad were on a team with some boyscouts and step son and I were on a team wtih the others.
So I couldn't just play WITH the lost child I found, and it was so dark and there were so many people we didn't know that I knew he wouldn't be happy if I left him to find his father on his own.
Oh well.
Like I said, the second half was awesome.
And today my face hurts.
It looks much worse in person, but this will give you an idea:

I think it's pretty damn funny.
So go ahead and laugh, cuz I'm laughing, too.

And then I was trying to start a new blog the other day.
An anonymous sort of thing, just so I can privately spew about some of the emotional turmoil that I've been dealing with.
It's not so much to keep it from anyone, but just to be sure that anyone who knows me in real life wouldn't know it was me.
I know I talk about doing this kind of thing from time to time and it never usually takes, but this time it might.
I really feel the need for a journal.
I doubt it'll be interesting, so I think I'll just keep it to myself.
In fact, I probably wouldn't have even mentioned it yet except for the most humorous thing that happened as I tried to set it up.
I took like ten shots of the screen to attempt to capture the moment for you, but I couldn't get one to come out clear (I adjusted everything I could think of, but I guess that's just the risk of camera phones.)
This is the best of them:

In case you can't read that, I was trying to use the URL "anonymoushousewife" and it alerted me that the name was already taken, then offered a suggestion for a different url, "lisa_anderson".
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Yes!!
although...I should go register that one because it would be groovy to have it.
How funny is that?
I mean, I know it's just an autogenerator thingy, but it feels like Someone said, "Sorry, we don't have "Anonymous Housewife" available, how about "Lisa Anderson of West Jordan, Utah"?
Seriously funny stuff.
I'm not sure if I even remember the URL I ended up with, so good luck finding it.
Heh.

Yawning hurts my nose.
I think I might have cracked it or something.
My forehead also go smashed in the retardation experiment, but there's no blood.
It hurts like hell, though.

Speaking of retardation...
My husband works with this guy who has a hard time thinking outside the box, and frankly kind of reminds me of Morgan Freeman in the end of Shawshank Redemption when he's released from prison and can't function on his own.
So, whenever hubby has to go clean up one of this guy's messes (the last one cost the client $2 million) (and yes, this is why my husband's company loves him--he completes his own job flawlessly, persistently, and can fix anything that anyone else fucks up) he comes home just shaking his head and muttering, "He's so fucking stupid. I can't even believe it. He's just so STUPID!"
Well.
Last night's project went ok, but this morning he said, "I figured it out. He's not stupid."
I, being an optimist, thought, "Oh, cool, he's found something Good about the guy!"
But, no.
"He's actually retarded."
I laughed and laughed.
Then he said, "But that's kind of better. Because if you're stupid you could at least TRY; if you're retarded it's not your fault."
I laughed some more.
And then tried to explain the whole IQ scale and how being stupid isn't really all that different from being retarded, it's merely a matter of IQ points.
The whole point of this story is that I decided that being not-quite-retarded is the best insult ever.
Because truly being retarded isn't something to make fun of; it's a handicap and I would never be cruel to those little darlings.
But someone who's an idiot?
Well.
Nevermind...I sound like a giant, hemoroidal asshole.
Sorry...

I think I'm going to do something fun today while Mr. Sleeps.
If T. is still going to the Living Traditions Festival with her daughter who's the same age as my boys I will join them.
If not, or if her time table doesn't suit me, I will take the boys to a mountain with water.
Yes, I know that sounds vague, but I'm just not sure where.
I have a couple of ideas, but I will probably call J. and get her advice and/or bring her with us.

In other news, I had a dream last night wherein I spoke some words that I cannot speak in real life.
Maybe I should.
But I can't.
And it felt like floating on the wind.
It felt true and light and refreshing.

Buh.
Bye.

***
Weekend Update update--
Apparently there is a Jazz game today.
The first in this particular series.
And Mr. SleepyHead invited his 2 divorced friends to come watch it with their combined 4 children and another single roommate.
It's not exactly what I was craving for the day, but it'll be fun and I like the two divorced guys so it should be good.
I love it when hubby takes initiative to be social, so I can't complain!
I shall now go shower and run to the store for munchies.
...nah, maybe I'll just drive.

I had big plans today

2007-05-18T11:35:00.000-06:00

but you know what they say about Mice and Men and over-sized farmhands.
Blood shed is inevitable.

I am frustrated that my carefully planned day has now amounted to nothing.
I am frustrated that part of that careful plan was to have lunch with 3 of my dearest friends, with whom I haven't spent much time lately.

It will be a great weekend, though.
I know it will.
I just hate this.

It doesn't help that yesterday I decided to trade my best friend for my marriage.
I'm like god damned Joan of Arc or something; such a martyr.
Don't pity me.
I don't deserve it.
I have come far in rediscovering myself over the past few months,
and I like where I'm heading.
But my heart is breaking today.
A friend who loves you enough to let you go is a rare bird indeed.

Fuck it.
I'm going to lunch with the girls.

***
Update: Lunch was just the medicine I needed.
I'm going to do a session with Sh.
I feel more peaceful just knowing that's on the horizon.
Here's the CD I burned:

Distant Sun-Crowded House
Time Won't Let Me Go-The Bravery
Read My Mind-The Killers
When You Come-Crowded House
Valerie-The Zutons
Tired and Bored-Garageland
Who Loves Who the Most-The Exponents
The Otherside-Breaks Co-ops
Sophia-Live
The River-Live

Some great musicianship and lyricism goin' on there.

2007-05-17T12:48:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I was driving along (merrily) through the sunshine,
just cresting the half-way mark between the awesome Salt Lake valley and the awful Utah Valley,
when a motorcycle zoomed past me in the HOV (carpool) lane.
Moments later, a white van merged unlawfully into that lane and nearly obliterated the guy.
I reacted from a deeper place than I would have if the near-victim had been a car, or even a bicycle.
Memories are sharp sometimes.
Tears leapt to my eyes and I choked a few sobs before realizing he was fine, oblivious even, and understood my own reaction enough to calm down.
When I finished at my appointment I turned right, instead of retracing my steps by turning left.
I mindlessly headed toward the bench.
I turned right at the T, joining University Avenue at the point where it thrusts its way between the walls of Provo Canyon, ostensibly to meet up with a friend who works in that direction.
But just a few seconds of moving down that road and I found myself slipping into the left turn lane,
and climbing the hill up to Canyon Road.
I didn't know if I would be able to find the cemetary, but there were signs.
I sat in the cool grass where the headstone should be and used my thumb to wipe the small amount of dust from the temporary nameplate swallowed up by the grass.
I was so offended by the presence of an almond joy wrapper that I took it with me.
I am not usually so concerned with litter (sadly).
It was nice to sit there and chat a while.
With myself and the trees.
I will go back more often, and lobby with the family members to get that goddamned headstone up.
They can't agree on what to engrave, but fuck that.
There needs to be one.
It was a happy day, truly.

Sorry for the weird-ass posts lately, this included.
:)
kisses to you all!

Feeling like a lucky, lucky star!

2007-05-16T23:04:00.000-06:00

...but not wanting to jinx myself.
Nothing for sure yet, but we are rolling forward with the House of Dreams,
and so far so good.

In other news--
I made lobster stew tonight to celebrate with my best friend, J.
We are both lobster junkies, having grown up in Rockland--
the Lobster Capital of the World (at some point, at least).
It was yummmy.
Not as good as my mom's.
But not too shabby for a first try.
I'll have to get my sister's take on it.
She's so fresh and blue-eyed.
So opposite of me in
every
possible
way.
It's a pretty groovy display of genetics, though, really.
Ok, so anyway.

Lots of fancy footwork coming right up--
1. selling two houses before someone else buys the one we want
2. finding new home for our renter, a.k.a. Hubby's Kooky Maternal Unit
3. not hyperventilating every time I think about the house.
I KNOW!!!
That last one's going to be the hardest of them all!!

Ok, well, so much for focusing on something other than my House of Dreams.
Did I mention the sunset?
I know I've said it before, but I take vast amounts of pleasure from the beauty of nature.
It sinks into me and restores my soul, the way sleep restores my body.
As much as I love this current house o' mine,
it has no views.
And when there is so much beauty all around (...when there's love at home!)
(sorry...got sucked into an LDS hymn for a second there)
it's hard to not be able to see any of it.

So.
Anyway...
This feels like heaven.
I'm sure I'll find plenty of things to gripe about, should I be lucky enough to move out there.
Not the least of which is going to be:
I can't find my own damn house!
The streets are rather windy (that's the adverb form of the "twist" meaning, not the meteorological term...why don't I just say "twisty"???).
Ok, starting over.
The streets are rather twisty-turny and finding one's way into and out of the neighborhood takes a 6-week class, culminating in a very tricky final exam.
Did I mention there's a golf course in the neighborhood?
And a beautiful Observatory?
(all the telescopers go kick it with the stars, yo.)
(don't ask me where that came from...I listened to some Eminem this morning, so I'll blame Marshall.)

Ok...I'm sure this is almost as nauseating as reading the blog of someone who is madly in love.
I will try to stop gushing.
I can't even totally decide how I feel about moving, on all the different levels that it can affect a person, because I'm so in love with this new neighborhood.
I can't imagine ever living anywhere else.
I just hope the stars align properly....
Anyone need a house in a Salt Lake suburb?

Paradise

2007-05-15T21:49:00.000-06:00

Oh, please...
universe?
If you're listening?
I'll do anything...
just...
let all the pieces fall into place so that I can see this every night for the next 20 years (or so):

Our own beach!

And they said it is great for ice skating in the winter...
and they stock it with 4 kinds of fish every summer...
and they do HUGE fireworks in the summer...
and the schools are good, the traffic (to the city) is mild, and the mormons are not obnoxiously prevalent (which is all you can hope for in Utard)!!!!
The master bedroom (and all the bedrooms, actually) has huge windows on this side of the house.
They put in a groovy outdoor shower so you can go from lake to hot tub without cootie-fying the hot tub.

I'm having chest palpitations.

Mother's Day was sweet perfection

2007-05-14T12:01:00.000-06:00

The whole weekend was pretty blissful, in fact.
That storm cloud hovered for a bit, but never did burst open.
On Saturday we drove out west, on a whim.
We had heard of a place near Tooele (pronounced 2-ill-uh) with cheap homes.
See, we're about to do a big shift and sell a bunch of assets/stock/etc and our plan is to buy a house with cash.
Anyway.
We found the spot, and it is only about ten minutes further from the city than our current suburb, but it's tucked behind the mountains and the valley is wide and most of it will remain undeveloped because it is the land that seeps out from the the Great Salt Lake--
salt flats, marshes.
Small town!
Quiet!
And then...
as we skirted the area looking for a way in, we saw it.
My heart still hasn't recovered.
It feels like home in more ways than I've ever imagined I would feel,
living in Utah.
It is a lake.
A spring fed, sort of artificial I assume, lake.
And all of the homes in that particular neighborhood back up to it.
You step out your backdoor and
there
is
the lake.
There are only a few homes for sale,
but we have an appointment to see the best one tomorrow night.
The house itself is just what we want/need as far as size and amenities,
but that's nothing compared to the outside--
mature trees!!! (swoon!)
a very nice/big redwood swingset
a hot tub
a deck
a DOCK!
Oh, oh, oh!
You have
no
idea how this makes my heart swell.
People have SAIL BOATS.
Everything from canoes and kayaks to peddle-boats to small sail boats
docked in backyards.
Modest homes, too, not a flashy/splashy resort community feel.
Homes from the 1960s and 70s, mostly from the 1990s and a few along one edge that are just being built now.
It looks so incredible.
There are certainly a few homes that are dazzling.
But most of them are just regular homes.
With what I can only assume are regular people.
And it feels so very un-Utah.
It's probably 90% Mormon, or something, but I sort of don't care!
It's closer to Wendover, too...
I can't even breathe.
You guys!!!!!!
I feel like I'm about to burst.
Ithink I already said that.
It's just so...
everything.
It feels right to both of us.
I've never seen hubby so excited about anything.
Suddenly I have no desire to finish planning the deck and fencing and trees for our current house...
so hopefully we'll make a decision quickly.

And then on Mother's Day,
I was treated to a delicious breakfast in bed,
and then taken on a hike that I have been hankering to take my family on for a long
long
time.
The Timpanogos Caves are a one hour hike up the side of the mountain,
and I was deeply impressed by the kids' perseverence.
We had such a great time.
The caves themselves were as cool--literally and figuratively--as I remembered.
The boys loved it, I loved it.
We all had such a grea time--I already said that, but it's true.
Then hubby and I laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon, reading, watching movies and
of course
doing
it.

Happy Mother's Day, indeed.

Ok, that is all.
I am making good progress with the BHW Chronicles.
Thank you so much to those of you so far who have offered to help!!
You are my heroes.
It will be really helpful to get that outside perspective...
Like, am I the only one who thinks this stuff is cool??
Have I overestimated how much material I should include??
Et.
Cetera.

I have good news and bad news

2007-05-12T13:08:00.000-06:00

The good news is I found 50 more pages of stuff I wanted to add to my Bored Housewife Chronicles...
The bad news is--
I FOUND 50 MORE PAGES OF STUFF I WANTED TO ADD TO MY BORED HOUSEWIFE CHRONICLES.

Fuuuu
uck.

So much for being almost finished with the editing portion.
So much for being almost ready for outside advice.

Hopefully I can still finish it in the next few days.
I'm glad I found it, and I'm really pleased with how it's turning out.

I have another set of good news/bad news that is remarkably similar in format to the first set...
Bad news: didn't get rehired for the newspaper
Good news: didn't get rehired for the newspaper
I feel dazed and--though not in a Led Zep-esque manner--a little bit confused.
I have more to say, but don't feel like this is a private enough place.
My feelings are hurt, but I'll be quick to look on the bright side.
The end.

My husband arrived home yesterday and it was a magical and beautiful feeling.
He hasn't been travelling as much during the past few months, but usually when he does he is free in the evenings--bored, even--and we have great chunks of conversation during that time.
This time he was gone from sunday until friday and we spoke for less than an hour TOTAL.
It felt so good to just lay in bed together and be close.
I could feel the separateness dissipating as his skin warmed mine,
but there was such a deficit of touch to fill!
This morning things seem less seamless,
less smooth.
I feel like he's gone again, even though he's here.
I feel a fight pressing down from the sky, making the air heavy around us.
I don't even know why.

I miss the trees.
I ache for trees--
old trees.
Giants of bark with thick reaches of rustling green.
I need them.
We live in one of these stupid new neighborhoods where none of the trees are more than a few years old.
I love my neighborhood...
but I want some trees that are older than me, older than my parents.
I want trees that have seen so many winters that they drop their leaves with grace and pleasant resignation then settle in for the ice and winds.
I want trees that have scars and knots and offer shade the size of a house.

Enjoy your weekend.

Banana Twins!!

2007-05-10T17:46:00.001-06:00

Good name for gay porn, no?

Nothing to say/no time to say it

2007-05-09T08:59:00.002-06:00

I feel like a million tiny responsibilities chip away at my day until there's no time left for living.
But then...
I remember that those million responsibilities are
Life.

My finger still hurts.
It's been two weeks since the mentally impaired nurse botched my blood draw and tweaked a nerve on the back of my hand, leading into the finger that won't stop hurting.
I think it may even have affected my Wii Bowling game...
I should sue.
It's America, after all, and I have made it 31.8 years without suing anyone.
I'm due.
To sue.
I should sue Sue.
But only if it's a boy.
Named Sue.
If I were him, I would sue!

I am attempting to replace dessert with masturbation.
I'll let ya know how that turns out.

Ha!

I guess I should go get ready for the gym.
I bet it's ready for ME!!

No, I'm not on drugs, you jackass.
But I am rather enjoying my newly reclaimed sense of authenticity.
And I registered for Fall classes yesterday;
including the first step toward English teaching.
I am 90-something percent sure that I will change to a teaching major before the summer's end.
It just seems like the wise decision, and I really think I would love it, but I just need to sit with it for a while and make sure it feels RIGHT.
Ya know?
I am certainly passionate about the English language, and about great literature and creativity.
Which doesn't mean I'll be great at standing in front of a class and holding their attention for more than 3 minutes.
Or challenging them.
Etc.

I am in the final stages of editing that infamous compilation of Bored Housewife fantasies/stories/poetry and I was wondering if anyone would be interested in reading through it to offer suggestions, etc?
Only if you have time and/or interest.
Just email me if you want to help out.
Whoever helps will get a free copy...

Mondays are for Telling Tales

2007-05-07T10:29:00.000-06:00

My tales, to be exact.
I just feel like shouting my entire history for all the world to hear.
You thought you knew it all, didn't you?
Well, mostly.
Here is where I want to publish my Emancipation Proclamation--
my freedom from my self-induced imprisonment.
I am on a journey, and at last I feel like I am the captain of this soul of mine, and not simply a passenger.
I gave up the driver's seat, it was not taken from me,
but I have only just realized this--
like Dorothy when the Wizard tells her she had had the power to go home all along.

I have so many words and so many dreams
and so many shoes.
I feel like mixing them all up and tossing them in the air
to see where they all land.
--big black boots with a fluttering, iridescent dream of flying sticking out the top
--delicate black heels with tufts of black letters, the words of a poem shooting out of its sole
--my favorite gym shoes with a giant scroll rolled up and tied together with their laces--a scroll wherein my dream of becoming a Real True Writer is detailed in fine caligraphy
I think it would make a beautiful mess.
I don't even like shoes all that much.
I was just trying to be silly...
and perhaps the Jerky Boys inspired me.
But whatever the case, I feel the need to confess and repent and start over.
Here.
With this blog thing that I do.
I want you all to know where I've been and what I've been doing so that you will understand.
So that you can judge me for yourselves.
I crave judgement.
I crave innocence.
And innocence only comes from complete disclosure.
Stress can melt away from the grip it has on my heart if I tell everyone
every
thing.
It's the only way to live, I think.
But.
I got so caught up in my own secrets that I didn't have anything to share here.
I was so afraid of sharing THIS, the real me, with my husband that I nearly lost him.
And I may yet lose him.
But as long as I am being true to myself then I have nothing to fear.
I allowed his paranoia and suspicion to contort me and make me ugly,
and then I blamed him for it.
I allowed his indifference for things I cherished to cut me deeply.
I allowed my own need to share every interest with the man I love to turn me away from the one who loves me most.
I made that stupid, rookie mistake of focusing on the negatives instead of the positives.
Which kind of baffles me since I so naturally focus on the positives that I can't even write a bad review of a bad play.
I dropped the ball that is My Life.
I continually sought for him to change, when all I needed to do was stop worrying about our mismatched interests and hold on to my own passionate attitudes toward the things in life that thrill me and move me and feed my soul and to refuse to allow him to indulge in his own insecurities.
Everything could have been different if I had been strong from the start.

I hesitate to be more explicit because I know that there are "real" people who read this (at least on occasion) who have no business knowing the details of my life.

I am ready to own myself again.
I am ready to Be.
I am ready to face whatever needs facing, and to live my best life.
I am buoyed by superhuman strength--
something coming from so deep within me that it bears the smell of the ocean on the other side of the world.

And why am I sharing all this with you dear fellas?
Because I'm on a Truth Roll, that's why!
...it is kind of like a Tuna Roll, but requires much less wasabi.

I guess I can't do full disclosure here, but saying all of this sure felt good.
And now you guys can bear witness, like a bunch of religious zealots, that I am going to live MY life from now on.

And maybe it means that I will connect again with that muse of mine, buried somewhere in the darkest depths of me,
or maybe it means that I will stop writing altogether and go do something USEFUL with my life.
heh.
As if.

Today is a beautiful day and I am going to go finish enjoying it.

Breakfast at Epiphany's--

2007-05-05T22:32:00.000-06:00

Yes, I had an epiphany today.
Not for breakfast, technically, but I couldn't pass up that dandy little phrase.

I am not sure it would even make sense to any of you, so I don't think I'll post it,
but let me assure you it was a long time coming.

I hate this whole business of trying to figure myself out.
I think it makes me all the crazier, trying to figure out why I'm crazy.
Ignorance IS bliss.
Or something.
Anyway, I am filled with calm, knowing that I just have to be myself.
I have to stop trying so hard to please other people...
Just be me, and be true to myself, and let the chips fall where they may.
...hopefully near a bowl of dip, but if not, I'm ok with that, too.
(if they're tortilla chips, make it guacamole, but if they're potato chips, I prefer my aunt's recipe of crab dip...)
Ahem.

Hubby is on his way home from dropping off our babysitter and then...
we're either going to have a long talk or sex.
Maybe both, but frankly, I ran out of words sometime last week.
And my body has not been cooperating with that whole sex thing for more than a few days of the past 3 weeks so I'm sure you can imagine which way I'm leaning.
Fortunately, I know my husband well enough to know that he is leaning the same way.

I have probably just gone and
entirely
overshared, but oh well.
That's Me.
And that's all I'm going to be from now on...
Unapologetically Lisa.

Feels good to wear That dress again.
Unapologetically Lisa.
...sounds like a great name for a band...or at least a song.
Wish me luck!

An interview!!! Of ME!!

2007-05-04T10:06:00.000-06:00

I know you're as excited as I am, I can feel it!

Darling Kat is back
(from outer space, like a disco queen)
and she was kind enough to interview me, upon my request.
It's a meme sort of thing, so I may ask for volunteers to be interviewed next...
yes, I will.
please leave me a comment stating your desire to be interviewed and I will email you some questions.

1. Who did you have your first, little girl super duper secret crush on, and what was he (or she) like?

FUNNY. Yes, it was definitely a boy. And if we’re talking FIRST EVER, it was in second grade. His name was Anthony, and he was in first grade (but we shared a teacher; a split class). I don’t have any idea what he was like—I was the shyest little flower in the school. He was cute—and remained so throughout high school; I’m assuming he still is, but you never know! He was nice enough, not a braggy/bully type of kid.

2. Which classic, timeless, critically acclaimed book or movie do you find mind-numbingly boring?

Hmm….that’s a tough one. I enjoy most of the books that others find boring, but I bet I could come up with one if I looked at a list—with my memory being what it is these days (non-existent), I really can’t think of one. A movie, though, that’s a little easier. “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” Ok, so it’s not exactly “critically acclaimed,” but it was acclaimed by teenagers…Ok, just checked a list of books—most of them evoked fond memories, but then I remembered: Jack Kerouc’s “On the Road” did NOT have the effect on me that I thought it would. It was very “blah”.

3. Have you ever said anything so totally stupid that you wished you could just cram it back into your mouth? If so, what was it? If not, hell, make something up.

Oh, gods yes! I’m a long-time sufferer of Foot In Mouth Disease. Gah. I think the worst/most memorable was at my guy friend’s wedding when he introduced me to his new mother-in-law. The woman was obviously quite old, or at least had NOT aged well, and I said—slightly drunk from the wine SHE paid for!!—“You two could be sisters!” And worse? I said it with a touch of sarcasm!!!!!! Oh, fuck. That was bad. I was juuust buzzed enough to not realize how bad it was until later, but then again, that whole wedding was the embarrassment of my life. God.

4. What is the most naughty you've been in a public place? Details, please!
Oh, come on! This is ME!!!! I’ve already spilled all my darkest secrets (which is why I am so impressed by the awesomeness of your questions!). Hmm…I think sex in an elevator on Mormon-owned BYU campus would be the naughtiest, but it wasn’t terribly public—it was Valentine’s Day, which happened to be a Friday or Saturday and it was about 8 or 9pm. In other words: the place was deserted.

I asked Andrea this one too, but I like it so you're getting it too. ;o)

5. Pretend you have the ability to talk to people without having to actually speak - thought projection. No one would know the messages were coming from you, so speak (or project) freely. What sorts of things would you be tempted to say?

I would try to use my God-like skills to make the world a better place, honestly. I mean, ok, maybe the random hot guy would get “You want to fuck that girl, don’t you? Yes, that one—the one with the black curls and the pierced nose. She is AMAZING in bed, so disregard your personal level of attraction. Start out with lots of kissing.” But…on the whole, it would be more along the lines of, “Ignore what your mother just said about the size of your ass; she’s just jealous of your youth.” I would tell people what they needed to hear—but not always what they wanted to hear. Difficult truths, etc.

*****

So here are the rules of this little game:

DIRECTIONS FOR THE INTERVIEW MEME

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions (or share here in the Comments section).
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Happy Thursday, you dirty birds!

It's not that I want to wallow...

2007-05-01T15:39:00.000-06:00

but I can't really think of anything else right now.

I was broken, like a wild horse.
Only...
the funny part is that I was never actually a wild horse.
Just a show pony.

The sugar from those two lard-topped cupcakes I just inhaled is hitting my blood stream now,
so you will probably be spared any more of my dramatics.
It's hard to be depressed when your nerves are snapping like fireworks.
I should have gone with the wine.
Wallowing would have been much easier with a depressant in my system!!

How do you people do it?
You NORMAL people, you even-keeled people?
How does it feel to waver somewhere around the middle all the time, feeling a little sad when something's wrong, and a little happy when something's right?
I just can't comprehend such a world.
Oh, wait.
Yes I can.
I'm living in it now.
And it feels like death.
Only more work.

Just ignore me.
I'll be over it soon.
Either that or I'll stop writing, because really--
writing is not possible without freedom of speech.

I'm back on the Blog-Horse again, and it feels gooood....

2007-04-30T21:00:00.000-06:00

Take that as dirtily as you'd like.
Perverts.

Aw...do you remember the good old days?
When I was a pervert?
Siiiiiiiiiiiigh........
Maybe I'll be a dirty old man again some day,
but for now I'm feeling as mild as a summer rain.

My bestest friend of all is graduating this week.
Dr. J!
I couldn't be prouder of her if she was my child!
And she's going to be a phenomenal professor.
Her mother and grandmother will be here for the graduation ceremony,
so that should be a hoot.
I'll be sure to share any good stories.

Meanwhile, I'm facing the onslaught of summer vacation without much courage.
It's going to be long
and hot
and...
hard.
To keep the house clean, that is!
ha.
Gotcha.
But at least we get to go to Maine,
and at least we have a private pool 2 blocks away.
And.
At least we can go camping up high in the cool mountains,
or burrow down in our cool basement with the Wii and the projector...
Ok, I'm beginning to relax.
I think if we pack away 98% of the kids' toys before then it will help.

No word from the paper, but it is finals week.
(did I mention they're getting a new editor for my section, so we all had to reapply?)
I imagine I’ll hear something at the end of this week or early next.
Either that or he won’t ever call and will lose the
Best
Writer
EVER.
Ha.
Just kidding...there are really some talented kids there.
I did make a mistake, though...
I didn’t include a cover letter, which the application said was "optional".
I was in a hurry to get it in way before the deadline, and with so much crazy shit going on, I sort of spaced that part.
Not to mention I was sort of thinking of the application process as a formality.
Bah.
But then when I was in the office filling out the application, attaching my writing samples, and the application said
"COVER
PAGE
OPTIONAL
In which you can tell us why you are qualified and
Stuff!!"
BAH.
I am considering just sending him an informal email with an apology for not including the cover letter and a few brief paragraphs on how much I loved the job and why I’m looking forward to working with him, etc, as well as letting him know that I have a review of Les Mis ready for the first issue if he wants it.
Such a suck up I am.
(but, as you may have heard, at least I am good at it!)

So tomorrow my car's registration will be expired.
Oops.
I sort of had it on my list for last week,
but I didn't get to it.
So tomorrow morning the windshield people are coming to my house to replace the glass.
Did I tell you about that?
There was a cold spell back in January and during that time I was at a friend's house very late.
When I got in my car I cranked the heat and that was a mistake...
a tiny rock chip spread from an invisible nick to an 18-inch crack!
A few nights later it grew even more, under the same conditions.
(no, I don't learn, but thanks for asking!)
It is low on the window, but it goes almost all the way across.
AND.
I have a tricky special windshield, with rain sensors, so I am
super
duper
extra
uber
glad I have windshield insurance.
I am slightly less exuberant about the cluster fuck of phone calls it took me to MAKE the damn claim, but it was worth it.
I do love my car, so!
I finally stopped having visions of making out with it every time I proclaim my love for it, but my heart still flutters every time I slide into the seat.
I'm easy to please, what can I say?
It's true, just ask my husband.
HA!!!

Weekend Recap

2007-04-29T20:36:00.000-06:00

Thursday night I went to the Bukowski CD release party/poetry reading,
as I mentioned in my last post.
What I somehow failed to mention was the jazz trio backing up the readers--
fuck
ing
awe
some.
And then the one dude--
the one playing the not-electric,
old-school,
6-foot tall
Bass--
he recited a poem he had written.
He wrote it while watching whales off the coast of northern california.
It was replete with assonance and aliteration and it was perfectly punctuated by his fingers on the strings of the instrument.
Yeee-aw.

So anyway.
Friday was a good day...
we drove down to the college from which Cameron's brother would have graduated,
had he lived a few more fucking months.
That may have been the most depressing thing I've experienced this year.
It was cool, too, though;
they presented his diploma to his 5 year old daughter.
And when the other brother pointed the camcorder at me and told me to say something, I didn't say what I was thinking.
I didn't say that he should be here, that we should be watching his tall ass self swagger down the aisle.
That we should have had to fight with him over allowing his mother to attend,
and about where to eat together afterward.

AHEM.
So anyway.
Friday night I had one ticket to the opening of the first regional production of Lay-Miz (trying to throw off search engines).
And at the last minute mr. husband decided to come with me and see if there were any tickets to buy.
We were in luck and the show was in
credible.
Hubby said it was better than any movie he's ever seen.
It was phenomenal.
Loved it.

Saturday brought hiking and lunch with my best friend,
and an evening with a couple of couples--
fabulous Italian and then to the best sports bar to watch our dear Jazz wipe the floor with the Rockets.
Twas a golden day.

Today?
Sex--finally!
I've been out of commission for one reason or another for over a week,
and right before that we spent 2 nights sharing a hotel room with our kids.
SOOOOOOOOOOOO....
it was a blissful morning in our world.
And then we spent the day relaxing and playing with the kids.

And now I feel like I'm bragging.
Sorry!!!!
I do, truly, hope you guys all had equally if not similarly lovely weekends.

Ode to Bukowski

2007-04-28T17:30:00.000-06:00

I wonder
Sometimes
If I am the bastard child of Charles Bukowski.
My mom does not deserve the images conjured by that statement.
She was not in LA in 1974,
But she grew up there.
Maybe I was swapped at the hospital
With some baby that belonged to a woman he fucked--
a woman who emigrated to Maine to give birth?
That sure would explain a few things.
But not the precise way in which my
inner workings,
behavioral patterns,
and physical health
mirror my father’s.

Today I give up.
Today I imagine never having to grow old.

Last night, in the Rare Books store,
The readings were so...mmmm...
well-done.
Even the quiet, older woman who partied with Buk when he was here--
Sometime in the 60s or 70s, I think.
Especially the large, bushy man with the dramatic flare.
Surprisingly the woman in sequins.
More surprisingly the woman in jeans, who read the Cunt-infused poem as though she had been dared.
(I would have read it with relish. And mustard.)
And my creative writing professor from last year,
Who smiled a Real smile when I told him I had published an essay I wrote for him.

There may be no way for me to be creative
living the life that has suddenly been unrolled before me
like a red carpet, or a yellow brick road--
but much less poetic than either.
I was tossed out of a helicopter onto this dusty,
rocky, cliff-edged,
wind-whipped
trail.
I was thrown onto it in the middle of the night
after being handcuffed
and blindfolded
(gagged for sure)
and pushed and
all manner of
man
handled--
and now I'm here.
Not sure which way to go,
but I will walk it.
And I will rock it.
I guess I will manage to find creativity in my mind even if I'm too empty to even think, "huh?" without hearing an echo.

If Bukowski could do it, then so can I.
Or something.

I have been living a dream these last few months,
and now I'm awake.
Or maybe
just
maybe
This is the dream.

Smartasses and Dumbasses make good bookends

2007-04-26T08:35:00.000-06:00

For giants.
With delicious senses of irony.

Last night I dreamed of a foggy wharf, in a distant harbor.
There was sadness in every drop of damp air.
I could hear the waves lapping against the pilings,
and the muffled clanging of bell bouys.
But then I was on my street (with no name, high on this desert plain...)
(ok, MY street has a name, but most of the streets here do not.)
ahem.
I was on my street and I could sense You there, wandering through my neighborhood, but never intercepting me;
I don't think you even knew you were Here.
You were looking for something unimportant--
just walking innocently, unaware, mere breaths away from me.
And the Me in the dream was unaware of You;
just the silent sleeper Me saw the proximity and,
watching the scene unfold,
stopped breathing long enough to wake.

Had a crackin' work out at the gym, though.
I have been sleep-exercising, I think.
Sort of yawning through my workouts, not pushing myself
at
ALL.
So today I pushed a bit.
Not tooooo hard...
wouldn't want to pull a muscle or anything.
Heh.
But I feel invigorated, so that counts for something.

I am already ready (already) to take my kids back to the southeast part of this red rockin' state.
That red dirt...oh, mama, that red dirt makes me want to run naked and sing for the rain to pour down--
how I would look, splattered in red mud!
How I would FEEL with my toes in the warm earth, cooling with each drop of warm rain.
For rain is never as warm as earth, even warm rain.
The smell of rain in that desert--!
Oh!
I am swooning, truly.
And...unable to spell.
swonn? trooly? Those are the spellings which first tumbled out, only to be backspaced and replaced in half a heart beat.
But still.
What kind of bragging can I do if my fingers can't make the words look right???
Maybe I just need a shower.
And some lunch.
And to make about a jillion phone calls.

Also...
I have realized that I feel like a different person completely.
Almost as if I've been drugged, my brain chemistry altered.
It has been creeping over me for months now.
Probably just a side effect of my decision not to feel certain things, or think certain things.
I have given my own personality a lobotomy, but that's a'ight.
It was in need of a severe surgical intervention.
As is my general gut region, but that's a different story.
Hee...
Speaking of which, I never really knew how hard it is for doctors to get fake boobs to look real.
Out of the 5 doctors I investigated (for previously mentioned gut purposes) there was only one whose work didn't look like balls had been slid clumsily under skin.
I just don't get it.
But then, even before I as a fatty McFatterton, I didn't have an issue in that regard.
But more than half of the women with fakies were no smaller than I was before I had kids and gained a cup size.
So we're talking full B/full C women with slender builds going bigger.
I guess I just don't get it.
There is psychology behind it, I'm sure.
They have a sister with huge knockers or were teased for being "flat" when they were younger or they watch too much pr0n.
Me?
I'm a woman, so I'll always complain about SOMETHING on my body, but before carrying twins turned my gut region into the repulsive thing that it is, I would have NEVER
EVER
IN A MILLION FUCKING YEARS
considered surgery.
Even a nose job--and I spent years as an adolescent LOATHING my profile.
Gah.
Being perfect is unattainable. Period.
No one is perfect--
but that has been said so many times it is like overchewed gum, and has lost its flavor.
Say it again.
But feel it--
No One is perfect.
(except for maybe You, and that's just MY opinion...)
Seriously.
Think of the person you know in real life who you most secretly desire to look more like, or who you consider to be "perfect."
If you asked that person to name their flaws, they would have a list as long as the rest of us.
It's human nature to want to be the Best or Most-Whatever, but it's nice to stop and realize there is no answer to this riddle and that everyone has flaws.

Now it sounds like I'm trying to say I'm better than those who choose surgery for different reasons than I am, and I guess at the end of the day we're all choosing it to feel better about our bodies, so I'm no different.
I am fighting with myself right now over loving my body the way it is.
I achieved that wonderful state of mind for a while, but this rampant weight gain lately is playing all sorts of tricks on my common sense.
I still love my body, I just hate(d) what I've done to it.
The hate is dissipating, though.
I have realized some things about myself, and about my reasons for eating so strangely over the past 6 months.
I am breathing again, and letting go of the hate because I have pried loose the grasp of guilt and flicked that nasty beast out of my life.
I am me.
And I am smart, funny, kind, sexy, and passionate.
So there.

Speaking of THERAPY....
I better go shower so I'm not late for my ACTUAL therapy appointment.
Not that there's anything left to say--
thanks for listening, guys!!
Your checks are in the mail.

So there I was, perched on the gyno's table, when--

2007-04-24T21:14:00.000-06:00

nah. Nothin'.
Just sounded like the start to a GOOD story.
Heh.

So apparently there's this guy who does this music show in England, or thereabouts.
I keep wanting to say Jules Verne, but that ain't it.
Then I want to say Gary Jules, but that's not right either.
Late Night with__________.
(I looked it up: Jools Holland. I wasn't even CLOSE. get it? cuz the jools is spelled differently...)
Anyway, his show is now broadcast on one of our HD stations, so I set a timer to record it.
I sat down tonight to mend a hole in my friend's blanket while dinner cooked,
and I turned on the telly-vision
flipped to my recorded shows,
saw this show in the list,
remembered that I had wanted to check it out,
clicked on a random episode out of the several there,
and
it
had Pearl Jam on it!!!
Wooooot!
They were, of course, marvelous.
The interview was, of course, waaaaay
tooooooo
short.
I still want to lick Eddie Vedder's neck, but that's not going to change.
...until I can check it off my list of Life Goals.
(I should really make one of those.)
ANYWAY.
It was awesome.
But an unexpected bonus was that the other bands were all pretty
fucking fantastic, as well.
I didn't listen to all of them because the salmon only needed to roast for 25 minutes, and my doorbell would NOT stop ringing, but I'll get to that in a minute.
Boy Scouts and hot black men from last night's sex dream (that conjunction was only meant to imply that both boy scouts and hot black men did the following action, not that both boy scouts and hot black men were in last night's sex dream; I may have once claimed to like 'em young, but, like...EWWW. Young = under 25, and now that we're on the subject, I am not actually attracted to even That variety of young anymore. Hell, I can barely be arsed to be attracted to ANYONE. Where the FUCK were we????)
...sorry...got carried away on the parenthetical notation...
Ok, so...oh, yes, I was just saying that my little quiet time was interupted by boy scouts and cleaning product salesmen.
So.
Uh...
where the hell was I?
Oh yes.
One of the bands was called The Zutons and they sang a song called "Valerie."
It was KILLER, so I launched myself down the stairs and commenced to download it from Limewire, but.....
It has been a
s
l
o
w
download and all this time I have had a different song in my head.
I bet it's on yours now, too.
That's right.
Steve Winwood, that 80s maniac who should really be back in the hiiiiiiiiiiigh
life
again.
Or something.
BAH.
So now I just hope the fucking song finishes downloading so I can use it to flush out the other, eightieser song by the same name.

For a good time, call--
no, wait.
For a good time, check out the comments I left from my cell phone on the post below this.
I am chuckling.
I had also forgotten how goddamned fast and painless pelvic exams were.
My glorious breasts are officially lump free and to the doc I say, "You're welcome."
(but you have to say it like that guy in that movie. No, I don't have any more information than that, but if you know who I mean, let me know.)
I am pretty sure the incompetant and brain-dead "nurse" (because I'm pretty sure she wasn't a REAL nurse, more like she got some certificate off the internet...) damaged a nerve in my finger while trying and failing to extract blood from one of the veins on the back of my hand.
Christ.
When will I learn????
When will I stop trying to make everyone else's lives easier while making my own HARDER????
It seems like whenever I warn a potential blood taker that I have tricky veins they end up having a harder time than those I don't warn.
FUCKERS.
These two gave up.
The one girl was truly a complete moron.
The other seemed smart enough/normal but she had
never
drawn
blood
before.
UHHHH.....????
I told her not to worry about it, that I was a good person to practice on since I am impervious to pain.
...maybe that's because my veins are impervious to needles!!
Anyway, my fucking finger hurts.
(Not my "fucking finger", my fuckin' FINGER.)

This feels like a post from the good ole days, doesn't it?
That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Or could that be the whiskey?
Ha. No, it couldn't, actually, because I haven't consumed any.

Ah yes, so the door bell.
The first was a salesman, selling that one stuff.
the stuff that is supposed to replace every cleaning product in your home, blah blah blah.
AND THEN.
The bell rang again and there stood a dear little orthodonticized Boy Scout.
They have this deal where for $35 a year they will come and put a flag up in front of your house for each national holiday and remove it the next day, etc.
I meant to do it last year, but I missed them, so I was so excited that they came around.
Then...the darling child (in all the awkward glory of any 13 or 14 year old) launched into his little spiel...with a stutter!!
It was all I could do not to hug the scrawny child.
Instead, I smiled and enthused over the presentation.
And then.
My husband the handsome smart ass who likes to fuck with sales people of all varieties walked up behind me.
Fortunately the kid's troop leader was with him so he didn't have to deal with my husband on his own...
cuz...as much as I love the man, and believe me, I love him a LOT, it makes me positively squirm when he goes all fuck-with-the-sales-guy on me.
He was smiling and friendly, but what you have to understand is that my husband is a tall fella (6'2") and he has more confidence than is allotted to most humans when it comes to business and knowledge in general, so...he can be extremely intimidating in situations like that, even with a smile on his face.
He scares the shit out of me, at least.
heh.
Ok, so anyway, I leapt into the kitchen for my check book and was back in the foyer in a blink, and all was well.
But sheesh.
Poor kid.

I also went a little wacky at the warehouse-membership store which shall remain nameless today.
Books and movies and two-packs of CEREAL!
Dumbass.
But, anyway.
I got a set of Stephen King movies...
two of my all-time favorite movies--
Of all time, you redundant fool!
The Shining and Shawshank, baby!
Can I end another line that way!
...sorry, that last one might not have made sense, but, see...I had to make another line the same length as the prior two, and end it with an exclamation point even though a question mark would have been much more logical. And, as it turns out, the lines are only the same length in my editing window, not on the actual blog post, so it makes even LESS sense. Siiiiigh.

I can't seem to stop writing...
I guess I'm just filling the vacum that has been steadily growing around me...

One of my best friends from high school had her first baby a few days ago.
That boy is gorgeous.
One of my longest-known bloggers had HER first--and hard-won--baby the day before that.
That girl is also (and equally) gorgeous.
The deepest, most thoroughly felt-in-my-heart congratulations to them all!!

Road Trip

2007-04-23T11:08:00.000-06:00

The kids were good,
the scenery was great,
the family was swell.
What more can you ask for when entering what could have been Road Trip Hell??
We had some snow on the drive down,
but it wasn't slippery.
Our hotel fucked up everyone's reservations,
but we all had beds in the end.
It rained on the day we were going to swim and hike,
but we went bowling and saw "Blades of Glory" instead.
(loved the movie, but don't see it with your 13 year old neices and nephews if they're mormon...it's a little inappropriate!)

Our first stop was Goblin Valley, and it was a lot of fun.
Lots of climbing and running around for the kids and the weather was perfect.

My little goblins, in a cave.

From my notebook:

The road between Goblin Valley and Zion National Park is scattered with scenery, more national parks, and towns so small they are hardly more than a loose collection of houses. Some of them make an impact on the 2-lane, twisting state road passing through them; some don't. Scenes of future based-on-a-true-story horror movies flash by the windows, the faded signs and peeling paint stabbing me with regret for having missed these towns when they were alive.

Here, "ramshackle" is the new "black".

Cameron tells of one town that was buried by a flash flood and left there, a miniature and dusty-western version of Atlantis. No buried treasures, no mystical creatures--just farm houses and rusted-out tractors.

The backseat hosts 3 sleeping boys (for a little while, at least), and my husband drives, so I am left to simply watch the road change shape in front of us. It feels like a long rope being held by a large, strong hand and given a shake--it coils and twists with such elegance and slow grace that we do not lose our way, but continue swallowing the yellow-dotted length of dark grey with the gaping mouth of our car.

We see herds of elk, and round a bend to surprise and be surprised by a deer--caught momentarily in our daytime-running headlights before bounding elegantly to the other side. Hawks circle against the bright, deep blue of the sea-like sky. I want to open the sun roof and stand up in my seat, opening my mouth to let sounds of joy permeate this serene world into which we've stumbled. There are few other cars and we feel wrapped in the solitude of our journey, safe in our rugged car packed with wholesome snacks and water. The handy little guage says we have 200 miles worth of gas left; we think there are fewer miles than that between us and the freeway--the real world.

My brain has turned to mush

2007-04-22T17:30:00.000-06:00

And I have yet another possible explanation.
Are you ready?
It's a dooooozy.
Nah, not really.
It's actually so simple that it's kind of pathetic that it took me so long to think of it.
or...
Maybe I already thought of it, but I forgot.
Ok, so my idea is this:
I have been using my brain for purely boring crap so therefore that is all it produces.
Does anyone here remember how this blog used to leap off the screen and bite your neck?
How it used to slide down into your lap and buzz?
I do.
But only faintly.
Anyway, i think the true cause of my lack of sharpness and absent wit is that I haven't been using this brain the way I like to.
And if you don't use it you lose it.
Truly.

There is only one answer to this riddle.
Stop writing boring crap.
Stop writing for anything other than my own personal outlet for creativity.
(yeah, that looks suspiciously like two answers, doesn't it? Well. I am recovering from some pretty severe brain damage, so what do you expect?)

I don't know if I'm going to remember to jump start my brain with More Blogging Than Ever, but it sounds like a miracle cure to ME!

I also realized that I used to be addicted to Blogging in a very real sense,
but right now I'm just sort of numb to everything.
I don't get that surge of adrenaline from intense interactions through comments, and from discovering new-and-exciting bloggers.
I think I will try to focus.
I think I will reassess my goals for the future.
What do I want most?
What steps will get me there?
I think I know the answers to those questions.
I am hesitant to say anything about a specific career path on here, for now.
But.
I also need to find out how that's going to go and decide what I want out of the experience.
I don't want to miss out on any opportunities, but somehow I feel like I'm at the end of a road.
...which does not mean that I am not also at the beginning of another fabulous road.
I will just wait and see.

I bet Orange loved that--because it was so cryptic and she IS a puzzle solver.
haaaaa!
(what's the word for that, by the way?)

have a great week, dears.

2007-04-19T09:03:00.000-06:00

So I guess the picture didn't post. As you may have guessed, it snowed yesterday. Today is my ten month birthday. Sweet. We are having a great

2007-04-18T14:49:00.001-06:00

Snow!!

I have THINGS to do, people!

2007-04-16T10:24:00.000-06:00

So quit wasting my time by
holding me down
and forcing me to write a blog post!!!

Um, yeah.

I can't figure out why the pictures I send to my blog from my phone aren't showing up,
but...
I did figure out how to get the photos from the phone to my computer.

What's this?
THIS is a glance down my shirt in celebration of my first published essay!!
That's right.
I submitted a creative non-fiction essay to the Hobble Creek Review,
and the editor must have sensed the power of my cleavage because he selected me to be printed among a list of well-published and brilliant authors.
(sucker).
Juuuust kidding.
I am just attempting humility, but it's hard when you're
THIS
awesome.

Ok, back to my long to-do list.
kisses to you all--

Did you survive Friday the 13th?

2007-04-14T14:46:00.001-06:00

I know I did.
They've always been lucky for me,
and yesterday I think I got lucky twice.
(buh-dum-CHING)
I also got my pda phone, at long last.
...complete with a blue-tooth earpiece...
I will attempt to retain my reputation as a bad ass,
but I'm not sure how to fight such propaganda.
I plan on only using it while driving or doing chores around the house,
but you know how these things go...
What starts out as a convenience ends up a crutch!
Will definitely keep you posted.
I can even check blogs and LEAVE COMMENTS quite easily from the phone, so watch your back.
...or your comments box.
heh.

As for the Wii and its evil powers of muscle-pulling and tendon straining...
well, I still love the little fella.
And I'll probably continue injuring myself, because I'm
just
that
stupid.
But at least injuries make for good stories, right??

Here's reason #432 that my husband ROCKS:
just before taking the kids to the tennis court,
he assigned the twinners to clean their room and had his 10 year old help him clean the guest bathroom (which the twinners use because it's more of an "upstairs-non-master-bath" room...can you say "toothpaste as art" and "wow, I thought the tiles by the toilet where SUPPOSED to be yellow!"? Bless their hearts, it looks great!).
And then suddenly my prep-for-Mom's-arrival went from "stressful" to "pretty much done."
I tidied the guest room and put on the new bedding set I picked up a couple of weeks ago (I may have mentioned it--it was necessary because the little ones have adopted my two queen-sized bed spreads and somehow most of my queen sheet sets are missing at least one sheet so I've been using our king ones).
With all of us working, it was done in under an hour.
And now they're at the park and/or playing tennis and I am tidying a few remaining things and throwing dinner together.
Mom lands at 9pm, so I'll be able to re-tidy after the littles are in bed and before dashing over to get her.
Not too shabby.

I am feeling a little let down that my Dad's not coming on this trip,
but I know she could use the break so I'm glad for her.
We will have more fun in some ways, but I'm just glad I will be visiting them in June so I can still see him soon.
He's a crazy old bird but I love him.

Here's something that erupted out of me like lava yesterday--

love flows
over the land
like heat waves,
sound waves,
radio
waves.
do you feel it?
brushing past your ankles,
pressing the air around you,
washing through you like fire through paper.

Because life is as much about pain as pleasure--

2007-04-12T15:42:00.000-06:00

Watch it.
You won't regret it.

Johnny Cash, covering NIN's "Hurt"

We navigate the waters of Life with whatever tools we have.
Johnny Cash, at his piano, looks back at a lifetime,
drowning in regrets.
The sadness leaks out of the screen,
dripping down the leg of my desk,
pooling at my feet.
It shimmers darkly,
invitingly.
Like an empire of dirt,
or nails nine inches long...

Taste MY rainbow, bitches!

2007-04-11T09:08:00.000-06:00

Skittles have nothin' on me.

My latest Wii-related injury is from boxing.
I am DAMN good at that boxing game, by the way.
I KO'ed the first 5 or 6 guys I fought in the first round, and KO'ed the rest of 'em in round 2 or 3.
Yeah.
I fucking rock.
About halfway through my run, though, I got sort of a strain/cramp thing in my left arm...I'm not sure which muscle it is--
not really the tricep, not really the bicep, more like the very tip of the deltoid...?
Hm.
Yes, it's where my deltoid meets my brachialis.
See? left click on the one marked 13.
It is still sore as a motherfucker, too.

My hands are also slightly tired from the gripping of the controlers, but I'm sure that's a typical video game casualty.

In other big-screen news...
There is this HD channel
that plays live music and yesterday Mr. husband found the Red Hot Chilli Peppers playing!!
I was in heaven.
I wish I could describe the feeling of that funky stuff coming at me from all sides, with the band larger than life in High Def--
fuuuuuuuuck.
I was in a state of semi-shock.
Drooling, staring, hands shaking.
I keep wishing I had seen them play when they were here,
but then I remember that they were here on August 15, and I could not have used tickets even if I had them.
Next time.
I'll catch them next time...

I've been sorting through a book with freelance opportunities in it.
Good resource, poorly organized.
It has one section called "consumer magazines"
and guess what the next section is called?
"More consumer magazines"!!!!
What the FUCK????
So there are these two, giant sections alphabetized separately and that's as organized as it gets.
The index in the back has different categories, but the listings are scattered throughout the two alphabetized sections....
WHY didn't these weirdos just organize the book into the categories from the index???
Ok, maybe I am a little more annoyed about this than I should be.
My therapist did point out that I have some addictive personality traits and that an intense need for things to be organized according to my own logic is a part of taht.
DAMMIT.
There goes my assertion that I'm the only normal one around here!!
It was a pretty interesting revelation, actually.
I've always joked about being addicted to sugar/dessert/food-in-general,
but this was no joking matter.
But it sure is fun to joke about!!
I have been very lucky to avoid an alcohol addiction and I think this answers the question of whether or not I will get around to trying heroin or crack.
Ha.
Juuuuuust kidding.
I have always been curious about coke, but I would have never tried it, either.
I'm not STOOOOPID.
Sheesh.

I think I had more things to say...
Hmm...
My Mom will be here on Saturday from Maine.
I can't wait!
She will get passed around between my brothers and I for the first half of the week,
and then all of us will go to Mesquite, NV...don't ask me why.
One of the sisters-in-law reserved hotel rooms there, because she thought it might be close to Zion National Park...
Uh...
It's a good 90 minute drive each way, and Mesquite is already 4 or 5 hours from home.
Eh.
We'll live.
I think there is a good hiking/picnicing gorge right next to the hotel or something.
And there's always GAMBLING!!
Oh, wait.
I'm the only one of the group of 18 who would gamble.
Oh well...I'm not complaining...
(Sshhh! I'm complaining a LITTLE, but only to you guys....)
The point of all that is that I won't be around much next week, but what's new there??
I am the original Non-Blogger lately, so you'll hardly even notice.

I hope you all have a great day, and I plan to do the same.

Some guy on the street corner handed me this--

2007-04-08T17:45:00.001-06:00

On the back it says that the million dollar question is "Are you going to heaven?"
Well, duh.
Of COURSE I am!!
I created heaven.
I created hell.
I choose.....
hmmm....
tough call.
I mean, in the heaven I created, there are a lot of the things that some people would imagine there being in hell, and in my version of hell there are all the self-righteous pricks, so there ya go.
I do love the million dollar bill, though.
And you can hardly see the religious fanatic print on the back.
So, rock on.

Breaking news:
I have just developed carpal tunnel syndrome from Wii Bowling...
fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
That's so lame.
I am so lame.
Or...wrist-gimpy?
Whatever.

The Easter Bunny (which I am at this moment picturing as a BugsBunnyCrossDresser-esque Jesus in a playboy bunny outfit, complete with ears...) brought my kids lots of chocolate.
He/she even remembered at the last moment to hide the plastic eggs filled with candy.
WE, on the other hand, gave the kids some thoughtful and talent-inspiring gifts.
An electronic keyboard for Oliver, who starts piano lessons Tuesday!!! (stoked am I)
And a set of youth tennis rackets and a couple of cans of balls for Max, who has been batting a tennis ball around with our raquet ball racket ever since he fell in love with tennis via the Wii(a).
(Sorry...I can't fight it! I have Rhyme Disease...I think I caught it once while hiking in the woods; deer tick, etc.)
AND.
They are both ecstatic with their new hobbies--and are even pleasantly interested in each other's stuff, but not jealous.
This is like, a new frontier and shit.
I am suddenly raising children instead of babies.
Or animals...
ack.
They are the apples of my eye(s).
And, not to rub it in or anything, but they are truly the most handsome little boys in their entire school, if not the world.
Actually I find it hysterical that we are all such bloody narcissists as to believe our own mini-mes are the most beautiful creations on god's earth.
Or if they look more like our spouse, well...duh! Of course we think they're beautiful, we mated with their progenitor, didn't we???
Good stuff.

I miiiiiiight have found the general theme for my big novel project...
And I did spend all afternoon (yesterday) indexing my "magazine writer's market" book.
Mostly bookmarked fiction submission info, but there were a few traditional magazines that grabbed my attention.
I am
at long last
getting serious about this shit.
And I have to say, it feels great.
Cuz...here's a tip to all you other literarily well-endowed strippers out there:
It's the ones that go after it that get published, not the BEST.
True story.
Have you read some of the shit they have in your local library???
Pure, utter cow poo.
We could all out-write those foo fighters in our collective sleep...mmm....just pictured a giant, silk-covered bed with all of us sprawled out....
Ok, so anyway, you get the point.
I would highly encourage all of you dears to get out there and submit work.
If I can have a piece accepted by a beautiful literary journal, so can you.
Wooot!

happy Easter, bunnies--

Is it REALLY Thursday already??

2007-04-05T09:09:00.000-06:00

Time flies when you're globetrotting.
(in your mind).
I can't believe I am going so long between posts these days.
It's a pretty strange feeling.
I did write yesterday, but TRUST ME, you did not want to read that post.
The post was a rant of the most scathing, self-loathing kind...
It felt good to say some of those things,
and to attempt to puzzle through what led me to feel that way and stuff.
I guess what's hard for me is that this blog (or BHW, really) was all about honesty.
The cold, hard truth of my little imperfect soul laid out before whoever happened to stumble past.
And I liked it.
It felt like every day was a catharsis.
But I have lost that touch, and so my posts have dwindled to one or two a week, and they are fairly dry.
I guess it's easy to be honest when you don't hate yourself.
But that's a step...
admitting that I hate myself.
I just would rather not name one of the causes of that hate.
On second thought, I would rather not name either of the causes.
There are two.
But if anyone can hack into my account and read the last post I saved to draft, that lucky person will see the black and rotting flesh around my heart.
Maybe the only way for me to feel free to fully express myself again is to start over.
And to at least attempt some anonymity this time.
Just knowing there are people out there who know me and are reading this--at least occasionally--nauseates me.

Daaaaaaaaamn.
Sorry for the downer.
And sorry for thinking out loud, without making much sense.

Today is a beautiful, blue-sky day.
It'll be warm and sunshiney and that's just based on my social calendar.
Having the man with the magic hands give my boys some GOOD haircuts today,
then meeting dear D. for lunch.

AND.
Hubby got home last night and filled me with...
yes, that, but also loooovve.
And life is really pretty damn good all around.
But.
Sometimes it hits me that I ate my way past Hot somewhere in the fuzzy, recent past and it sucks the joy right out of me.
And in moments like that I wrestle with wondering why it's important to me at all, and how I came to care so much--when I would like to claim that I don't care at all--about my appearance.
This is my great weakness, and I offer it to you on this great alter under the thousand suns of the world's widest webs.
So there.
That's one of the reasons I hate myself.
I hate myself for being fat, and even more for caring that I am.
That's reason 1a and 1b, just for the record.
Reason 2 is completely separate.
Although...I suppose everything about me is intertwined somehow.
Whatev.

I get to go to Maine in June and that's really all I need to know.
And on that note, a palate cleanser:

Lucia Beach Road 1975-1983

I remember running through the marshy field, next to the creek, scared to death of stepping in our version of quick sand, “honey pots.”

I remember the smooth, sand-like dirt road leading to my house and the lake-sized pot holes which were such fun to maneuver on a bicycle.

I remember my cousin giving me a ride on her mini motorbike. We skidded to a tumbling stop, pinning her there, while I stood filling with guilt that I had somehow caused her broken leg.

I remember lying on the bottom bunk and thinking I should cry upon the news of my much older cousin’s death; instead I pictured him washing ashore, and the boat he had slipped from in the dark of night.

I remember building our tree house, and the way I held my breath each time I reached for the next wobbly foothold as I followed the older girls up the first time.

I remember cutting a hole in my favorite green corduroys and as I heard my mother walking down the hall, hastily asking my cousin whether I should say, “I did it on purpose,” or, “I did it by accident.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she answered me.

I remember the endless procession of beautiful summer days on which we, her 4 youngest granddaughters, would burst through her screen door and recite our favorite line, “Grammie, whadda you have to eat?”

I remember that it was always Kool Aid and something from Hostess.

I remember the pattern on her countertop, the cool clean feeling of her orderly house, bursting with knick knacks.

I remember the two attic bedrooms in that house, and the hours and hours of playing “college” up there.

I remember learning to spell “Afghanistan” in one of those deeply eaved rooms, and marveling over the number of afghans in my grandmother’s closet.

I remember the way the word “cousin” felt more like “sister”, and the slow dawning of realization that it didn’t mean the same to other people, that we were lucky.

I remember learning to ice skate, and the way the cold air sliced through my heavy layers and came out the other side, leaving me wondering why all the fuss.

I remember the Crab Girls, who picked out meat in the bleach-drenched fluorescent lit room in our basement.

I remember their loud and misplaced laughter, and the wall of cooking crab that met my nose when I walked from that room to the one with the enormous black cooker.

I remember sorting crabs, and getting pinched; the big claws on a dark brown disc with tiny eyes; my mother’s kind reminder that you must pick them up by the smallest leg.

I remember my fearless and gentle mother turning into a terrified and angry monster when that boy cousin ran toward her with snakes draping off him like streamers on a float.

I remember that harmless big grey house at the end of its long, straight driveway, perched in the middle of a field; and how fearfully we avoided it on Halloween and Girl Scout Cookie sales calls, somehow driven by a need for mystery in our quiet neighborhood.

I remember lying on our bellies, behind the short row of hedges and peering through binoculars, into the window of the neighbors across the street. I remember my confusion over the older kids’ excitement at what we saw, and looked again for the pot while wondering why they didn’t just call it a pan.

I remember the quietness of that narrow, winding street, and how it was shattered by a plane crash once, a car crash twice.

I remember riding our bikes to the tiny airport because it had vending machines (and was much closer than any store), with our plan for evading kidnappers firmly in place.

I remember wishing I could live in a place with sidewalks and neighbors, like the kids on TV.

I remember sitting on the school bus, and singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” into the fogged up window, as we rounded the corner to cross the river, and thinking I might know something about Love at 6 years old.

I remember falling asleep on the top bunk, wearing a silver ring with a puppy on it, securely on my finger and how I ached for it for weeks afterward when I woke to find it missing.

I remember the woods behind my school; a little alcove-like clearing, the delicate pink lady slipper growing in the shade of a mossy rock, and the tingly reverence I felt for that forbidden flower.

I remember the day they finished building our house, and the many days that followed, packing all our things for the move. Two miles—and a world—away.

********

Happy Thursday kiddos.

Blog Much?

2007-04-02T08:46:00.000-06:00

Nope, not really.
You?

I sort of can't believe my last post was last Tuesday.
And not just because Tuesdays are for drinking beer at noon, sitting in bars facing giant carwashes, and having illicit affairs with cancer-surviving Tour de France champions.........
Or something.
If I could sing and/or compose music I would try to take on the lovely Ms. Crow.
I was born to be a rocker.
I'm really not sure what happened, but somewhere along the line I was fucked out of my singing talents and musical ability in general.
I can read music, but I prefer to memorize songs and play them.
I can make up songs, but I could never tell you what notes were involved or replay the same stuff.
So, therefore, I am the furthest thing from a musician this planet has ever seen.
I'm also pretty far away from a specific musician that this planet sculpted out of sunsets and crashing waves, but that's a different story.

Last night, at 11:34 pm Mountain Standard Time, I finished the final book in the second/final leg of an 8 book series.
I have so many other books I want to read, but I am already scheduling in my second reading of the first 5 books.
The last 3 were way too much about war strategy and far too little about interstellar travel and saving sentient species...
I'm a geek.
I hope that doesn't come as a surprise to you.

I tweaked my back having sex yesterday.
When we started out it was a little sore, basically between my left hip and my spine, but by the time we were finished...
well.
I'm in some pain when I move in certain ways.
But it was worth it.
winka-winka.

We finally finished planning our trip to Maine.
I have chosen to take trips to other groovy places like Maryland, Florida, Hawaii, and FRANCE for the past 2 summers, so it has now been 3 years since my last visit home.
I am ready to burst with joy at the prospect of seeing those familiar places again.
I can almost smell the ocean, and taste the fresh seafood.
There are a couple of friends I haven't even talked to since my last visit and I can't wait to see EVERYONE!
There are new babies and new marriages and new houses built.
There are new people living in my grandmother's house...that should be strange.
There are so many people to see, so many bonds to recharge.
I can't wait to see everybody.
We'll be there for the Fourth of July which will be quite a historic event for me.
I haven't been home for the 4th in ten years.
Thanksgiving is what I really miss at home, but this will be more fun for the kids than that would be.
The small town parade in the morning, a fabulous cook-out in the mid-day and Fireworks at night.
Swimming and swimming and lighthouses and seafood and old friends and the extended family I was close to in my childhood--
what could be better?
That's right: not a damn thing.

Happy Monday and happy April to you all!

I smolder across the land like a plague---

2007-03-27T16:22:00.000-06:00

Ok, not really, but that's quite an image, isn't it?
Heh.

I found this the other day while I was looking for stuff.
Thought you might like it.

I was Janis Joplin last time. Or maybe Jimi Hendrix--no, Jim Morrison. Definitely something with a J. I don’t know who I’ll be next time, and I rarely know who I am this time. But I do know that the tapestry of my infinity is spreading out all around me and I have a gap to fill. So, onward I press. Jim Morrison. Yeah. And I have a feeling that once I was a Medieval princess--I still look like one. Somewhere in the past of this current life, I was burdened with too much feeling. Now I am burdened with too little. Everything is distant and untouched by my heart, unabsorbed by my soul.

Heavy stuff.
Man.

And another, heavier still:

Widow.
She had said the word so many times that it almost sounded pretty. She had said it so many times that it had lost its flavor, lost its meaning. The repetitions had started out as a way to make real to her something that had only ever been intangible. She remembered with a hint of a smile, the first time she had discovered that words and names can lose all connotation if repeated enough times. She was in the backseat of her mother’s car, little girl legs sticking to white vinyl as summer air swept in through the wide window. They were rounding that bend where Dublin Road passes the turnoff to South Shore Drive—she smiled again, as she worked her mind around the logic to remember whether it was South Shore Drive or North Shore Drive because they had always seemed backwards to her. Now, she lived in a land of straight roads and “mountains to the east”—the compass was completely ingrained in her life. There, in that lush and rough country, she had never known north from south or east from west. The ocean was technically east of her, but with the jagged inlets and crooked harbors, it was never a direct line. North Shore drive was at the bottom of a hill, so to her it seemed like it should be south, not north. As they drove along that stretch of the road, she had repeated her cousin’s name to herself and after a few runs, there was a distinct flavor of newness about it—a disjointed jumble of sounds instead of the instant picture of his face in her mind. She would spend her life obsessing over words, and pushing them out of her mind with the force of ten fingers on a keyboard, pulling them into herself like a long-distance swimmer coming up for air. Words.
And now. Now she had found herself face-to-face with a word that had always meant little more to her than someone else’s abstract loss. She was supposed to slide this word over her others, like a shawl. Mother, wife, sister, daughter—layered over her like Victorian era clothing, each one adding more weight to her small frame, each one feeling awkward at first, then growing as comfortable as a well-worn pair of shoes. This one, though, this new one…she wasn’t so sure it would ever conform to her shape. The newly forming lines across her brow whispered of her worry that it would change the contours of her body as surely as the loss itself had changed the periphery of her vision, the path to her eardrums, and the arrangement of her taste buds. Everything was new, everything was unfamiliar.
She was too young to be the wife of a dead man.
She sighed, and then instantly regretted it. She was sighing too much lately, and it made her more tired.

That one I'm reaaaallly planning to continue with, but you've all heard that before.
I am such a non-finishing-starter!!!!!!
Bah.
Happy Tuesday to you.
Put on a bra, you damn hippie!
(heh)

It's Saturday Night and I have an inkling--

2007-03-24T20:45:00.000-06:00

You know--a baby ink?
Yeah.
So pwecious!
Eh. Don't ask me.

I did, however, attend a bit of a wedding today.
There was a pond nearby to which my boys were obviously drawn.
A bridge crossing a narrow part of it--perhaps a stream leading out of it?
Under the bridge (downtown) there were 3 shirtless, lightly tattooed young men (one of whom had that new style of sorta-mohawk...) and they were building a raft out of logs.
It was bizarre and kinda hot, frankly.
So I walked over the bridge, wishing for their sakes that it was a warmer day which would have meant I was bare-legged under my dress instead of sporting black tights.
Oh well, their loss. Ha.
Anyway, there were ducks all around and some fish visible under the murky surface of the water.
A dark form swam by--not a duck, but what?
I guessed that it was a beaver, its tail under the water so I couldn't be sure.
"What do beavers eat, mom?"
The first thing that snickered its way to my tongue was, "Wood."
So I explained that they chew through wood...but, still...I shouldn't have such a dirty mind!
I'm a mother!
And then as I scanned the pond for more wildlife, I saw some, alright!
Ducks.
Fucking.
I think they were gettin' down with some hardcore menage a trois action, but mostly I was annoyed that I couldn't figure out a way to make better use of the rhyming possibilites of "duck" and "fuck"....
"There was a duck getting a fuck"???
Gah.
I mean, that works fine, but it really doesn't pack the punch I was looking for.
Ya know??
Fuckin' ducks.
Ducks 'a fuckin'.
Get your duck fuck on, bitch!
Those fuckin' ducks were...fucking ducks.
There were ducks. Fucking.
Eh.
Hit me with your best rhymes.

So all in all the wedding was quite a success.
I mean, who knows what'll happen with the marriage, but the pond rocked my perverted little world!

This morning, we entered Wii-Land and haven't looked back.
Wii + 100-inch projection screen = pure.bliss%
I stumbled across an old Tae Bo DVD yesterday when I was unable to go to the gym because the kids were home from school and consequently my boxing skills were in top form.
RAWK.

Hubby is off playing poker with some guys I don't know tonight.
This disappoints me on so many levels.
I love poker, I love people/guys (sometimes girls...eh...let's just say Utah doesn't have nearly as many cool women as you would think) and I love spending time with that tall blonde man who gave me his name and fertilized the two eggs my body thought it would be fun to produce at one time (still not sure how THAT all happened, but that's another gripe for another night).
***I interupt this post to swoon for Prince's Purple Rain......swooooooooooon!!!***
Anywho.
I hope hubby has fun.
And wins lots of money.
hehehe.

Speaking of Prince--
did I ever tell you guys the Super Bowl Half-time Show story?
If I did, just point and laugh, cuz I am the youngest person alive with Alzheimer's, but if not, listen up (what? can't you hear me in your head? I hear me in MY head...):
Prince performed at half-time of the Super Bowl this year and my kids happen to have a bit of a thing for Michael Jackson...
yeah, it creeps me out, but as long as they don't really know who he is, I'm fine with it.
I would rather jam out to MJ than the Wiggles or some shit, right??
Ok, then.
So when Prince takes the stage one of the boys says, "Dude. Is that MICHAEL JACKSON?"
The other responds, "No, it's Elvis you idiot."
PUH-riceless!!!!!
I seriously love those kids as much as if they were my own flesh and blood.
Er.
Well.
You know what I mean.

Ok, so not to jinx myself or anything, but I think I'm just going to go ahead and write the great American novel tonight if that's ok with you all.
I mean, obviously I won't finish it tonight, but like, start it and stuff.
I think I could use a little pressure.
Enough of this crap.

And.
If I can possibly borrow some brain cells from someone, I might remember to go to the Unitarian church tomorrow morning.
Don't hold your breath.
It's hard to change habits and my particular rut happens to be lounging about for half the day on Sundays, cooking a big yummy breakfast at some randomly selected time, and screwing the husband at some other randomly selected time, but never is there even a hint of church or anything like unto it on my Sunday morning horizon!
Some week soon I'll remember.
It always pisses me off SO BAD when I forget because I'm just so darned curious to find out what it's like there.

Anywho.
Have a happy rest of your weekend.
And wish me an inspiration-filled night of writing!
mwuah!

Produce gets me HIGH

2007-03-22T12:53:00.000-06:00

I'm serious.
Whenever I walk into Harmono's produce section I am overcome by a sense of euphoria.
I don't know if it's because their displays are so damned orderly--
apples with a shine like a row of patent leathers at church, pears nestled in fresh sawdust, various greens layered like a forest of vivaciousness!
Or.
If it's simply the fact that they have the freshest stuff around.
I don't really care, either, but I do love that place.
I think half my fridge is full of fruits and vegetables right now.
Yummmmm.....

Ok, so I was browsing the other day and I came across this cool site.
I am still not sure whether it would be useful for me to join, so I was wondering if you guys could check it out and let me know what YOU think?
It's called KushCash and it sounds like it's a way to use your phone for (at least some aspects of) your banking.
They have a Mastercard coming soon which I think would be the best part, but it's pretty cool.
There is also a blog for it which is the most entertaining part of all, so read that at the very least.
Maybe they have subliminal advertising going on there so watch your back.
Or your subconcious...?
Whichever.

In other news, I sat on a stationary bike (pedalling) for 13 minutes this morning, waiting for my friend to come out of the locker room...
I knew she was there because her car was in the parking lot (and she's usually on time).
I remembered we were supposed to meet at 9, but...
when she called last night to see if I wanted to meet I was playing Sorry with the boys and I was only half-listening I guess.
Cuz...I forgot the part about meeting for a 9:00 CLASS.
Which explains why she wasn't meeting me in the cardio area like she usually does.
AND.
The class was full so there were no more exercise balls/mats/barbells and she had just given away the set she saved for me.
I'm such a moron.
I did something really stupid yesterday, too, but I can't remember.
Oh yeah!
I finished shopping and could not find my debit card in my purse.
Just--gone. Poof.
I was beside myself, wondering if I had left it at the restaurant where I had lunch with my friend the day before (the menu offered "Belgium Waffles" and I kept making "England Muffin"/"France Toast" jokes...).
So I wrote a check and wondered where the hell it was.
When I got home and undressed for my shower I disovered my debit card in my sports bra.
Oh YEAH!!!
I stuck it there after swiping it at the gas pump!!

Fuck.
What is wrong with me???

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2007-03-18T17:15:00.001-06:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

The sun is shining, the tunes are blasting--

2007-03-18T14:03:00.000-06:00

summer is HERE, motherfuckers!
For the moment, at least.
This being Utah--the state of confusion--we will get at least 2 more snowstorms before July.
But that's a'ight.
It's so gorgeously sunny and not-too-warm that I can hardly stand to stay indoors!
And yet I do...

Yesterday we finally replaced our leaky fridge.
We bought it to go with our first house, 7 years ago.
It had more cubic feet than side-by-sides and, unlike those, would fit in its designated spot in our kitchen.
I've loved that fridge.
It had an in-freezer ice maker, which was the next best thing to the in-the-door one that my husband hankered after (at the time I didnt' give a shit, but stay tuned).
It was roomy and the shelves were all custumizable.
Loved.
That.
Fridge.
Then, one day...
shortly after we made like the Jeffersons and moved on up,
the icemaker started leaking.
This meant our lovely, large bucket of ice was often melted into one large brick of ice and the water was seeping down through the rest of the fridge and pooling under the crispers--but not before causing plenty of commotion on the way down.
SO.
We are lazy and/or cheap and didn't get around to replacing the fridge-a-rama until yesterday.
We now have the loveliest stainless steel, ice/water in door appliance.
Mmmmm....appliances get me so hot!
It does have slightly less space than our old fridge, but hardly noticeable,
and when we plug in the old one out in the garage we'll have plenty of overspill
(no pun intended!) for watermelons and cases of soda and frozen stuff.
I am soooooooooo excited.
Hubby is too, but it's kind of hard to tell, what with all the pain he's in from overexerting himself and his broken/bruised/generally unimpressed with life ribs.
I feel terrible, but at least now he's willing to go to the doctor.
It can't hurt--even though they can't do much for broken ribs, they may be able to give him some tips on how to recover faster or insist he stay in bed for a few days or something.
...which would be a good place for him...winka winka...

Enjoy your St. Patrick's weekend and kiss somebody Irish--
or at least kiss one of your pictures of me!
(yes, I'm very Irish)
Oh, here's what I wrote once (the condensed version of something that really happened):

I was mistaken for somebody beautiful once, which was one of the best compliments I have received. A girl in a bar, insisting that I was someone else. Repeating like a mantra, “She was so pretty. Are you sure you never worked there?” As though I would begin to speak with the missing Irish lilt and embrace her with a laugh, exposing my own rouse. I continued to shake my head and smile, no, I had never worked in that place, and as proud as I was to have been mistaken for a real Irishwoman, I was only Irish in name, and as one slice of my mottled, American heritage.

Can't think of a title to save my life. Dot com.

2007-03-15T10:17:00.000-06:00

My kids' school just called.
We were a few minutes late this morning and Max didn't retried his card from the office which meant they thought he was not there at all.
What gets me is the manner in which they make their "your kid's not here" call.
I don't know that I have a better way, but it seems rather fucking odd to call the mother of a 6 year old and TELL her that her child isn't in school.
They say, "This is blah blah school and we are calling to tell you so and so's not in school today."
NO SHIT, SHERLOCK.
I mean, today he's there, but if he really wasn't there??
I'm pretty fucking sure I would know about it, since he'd be here.
With me.
I guess in older grades they have to worry about kids skipping school, and there's always that minute possibility that they were abducted (by aliens or Larry-the-perv) but jesus.
Why can't they say something like, "We are making sure you're aware that your child isn't in school"??
Or maybe I'm just passive-aggressive.
Heavy on the aggressive.

Whatever.

So yesterday I had the most cluster-fucked car wash attempt I've ever experienced.
There is one drive-thru place in my immediate area that offers an undercarriage cleaning as an option and I was finally getting around to washing my dirty-as-a-whore-house-bathroom car after our weekend in the rural mountains of Idaho so I wanted it done right.
Well.
I forgot about that place until AFTER I had washed the car at a different place.
I was annoyed at myself for forgetting about that place (which I've never used before) until after I paid for a wash somewhere else, but then I decided, "fuck it. It's only 7 bucks. and I reeeeeallly need this car to be clean."
So I drove to the other place and pulled up to the little machine where you enter your code or put in your money and discovered it only took quarters.
Since I didn't have 28 fucking quarters in my purse I backed up and went inside to pay.
I'm kind of glad I did because otherwise I may have been screwed, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
So.
I paid and drove back over and entered my code.
The little light-up thingy said, "Drive Forward".
I did so, being lightly sprayed by the water as it prepped to start my wash.
Usually when the front tire is on a certain spot it switches to "Stop" but it never happened.
I moved slowly, carefully, but nothing.
So then I thought, "Oh, maybe it wants my back tire on the little thingy."
So I drove forward carefully, slowly, keeping my eye on the little sign.
It finally switched to "stop" but only for a second (still moving slowly and carefully) and then it told me to back up.
So I did
Slowly.
Carefully.
It then told me to drive forward again.
After a minute or two of fucking with it--
yes, slowly, yes carefully--
all the lights went off and the pitiful spitting water stopped altogether.
I drove out and went inside to get another code and try again.
The lady asked me if I backed up.
I explained what had happened and she said that a lot of people drive forward and back all the way out and drive back in and that turns off the machine, but she didn't think that what I had done should have triggered that.
So, she gave me a new code and I vowed to drive even more slowly, even more carefully this time.
And I did.
Oh so slow, Oh so careful!
And this time it never.
NEVER.
Told me to stop.
So I tried backing up and it, of course, turned off the machine.
So I went back inside and--with a smile--said, "This thing is starting to piss me off!"
She laughed and refunded my money.
But my newly washed and dried car now had a light spray of water covering it.
In effect, I had washed my car and immediately, deliberately left it out in a rain storm.
fucking god damn piece of motherless shit.

And just as a side note: eating does not go that well with blogging.
I mean, one-handed typing can be useful at times (wink-wink) but chroist.
This is ridiculous.
It practically takes the orgasmic pleasure out of eating, and we can't have THAT.
I might become an emotionally-healthy eater or something!
These strawberries are inexplicably perfect, though, and I can't stop eating them!
They may...possibly...be dipping themselves in a mixture of cream cheese and marshmallow fluff, but there's nothing I can really do to stop THAT.

Oui!

2007-03-14T09:07:00.000-06:00

This morning my husband said, "Did I tell you I bought a Wii?"
I nearly spit out my cereal as I was overcome with glee.
(for my Wii...heh...)
It'll be here in the next week or less and I am SOOOO excited.
It is the perfect invention.
Do you understand how perfect it is?
It may save our nation's couch potato youth from heart attacks and type II diabetes at age 25.
Get those slugs off the couch!
Woot!
AND.
My kids, who are active as hell but love playing video games will now be able to combine their two great loves.
Now if only they could use the Wii on the trampoline, we'd be in heaven.
You can bet your ass you'll be hearing more about this upon its installation and implementation.

I better hop in the shower.
This morning I'm getting an ultra sound on my neck.
I told my husband that if they find a baby in there I am THROUGH swallowing.
Heh.
No, they're just checking to make sure my thryoid looks right.
I have been having a little trouble swallowing lately (no pun implied) and just feeling like my neck is a little swollen inside but not sore throat-related.
I'm sure it's nothing, but it doesn't hurt to check.

I have my book group tonight and a play to see on each of the next 3 nights.
I am verrrrry excited for all of the above, and will catch you all on the flip side.
Or maybe on the flop side.
Or the flap
jack
side.

Daylight Sucking Time

2007-03-12T08:49:00.000-06:00

And unfortunately that sounds kinda hot.
But what I really mean is that this whole turning back of the clocks thing is pissing me off.
It just really fucks with my whole world.
Not so much yesterday because we were still out of town and didn't have to get up at a certain hour, but today?
Let's just say that I had a rogue 6 year old end up in our bed last night and that's never good for getting good sleep (happens about twice a year, so I'll live) and then I was also stupid enough to leave my cell phone by my bed and I ended up receiving 3 very loudly-announced text messages in the wee hours!
I then turned off my phone and got a little more sleep before the boy wandered in.
Grrr.
I feel like poo.
Or the mother of much younger children.
(same diff)
So.
When the alarm went off, so did I.
I have had a very growly morning, but now that the kiddos are at school
(laughing all the way, incidentally)
I feel much better.

The snowmobile trip was absolute perfection.
The snow was great, the sleds purred like kittens,
and we had someone else cooking and cleaning up from all our meals.
The hot tub was hot, the sauna was dry, the drinks were cold.
We played poker and I won about $50.
We played Cranium and I breezed through all the word worm cards.
(that category is like crack to me--I would get all breathless and sparkle-eyed every time it came up)
I am just glad that I suck at some of the other categories so I didn't look like (as much of) a show-off.
Spelling backwards is my new favorite hobby.

I am still a little sore from spending so many hours controlling that giant machine but it feels great.
I didn't get hurt this time, but my husband managed to injure his ribs.
Probably not a break, but some pretty definite and long-lasting pain.
He broke two ribs and punctured a lung when he was a teenager, so he is fairly certain that there are no breaks.
One of the guys chipped a couple of teeth, and one of the women got pinned under her machine when it flipped, but she wasn't hurt.
I got some new music to download and some new authors to try and even a new recipe from the sweet little lady who cooked our food.

I am glad to be home, but I have a busy week.
On Wednesday I'm hosting my Book Group, and then the next 3 nights I have plays to see.
Fortunately, I'm doing preview articles on all of them and no reviews because--
next week is spring break for my school!

Spring is here, for the moment, and so if I can finish the article I have due today I get to go hiking with my best friend!!!
So, screw you guys--I'm getting to work.

I am busy, like a bee--

2007-03-07T09:55:00.000-07:00

Or maybe more like a Me.
Or a knight who says "Ni"?

Today I will go to Wingers for lunch,
but really for their $2 draft/apricot Hefeweizen.
I have much writing to do before we leave on our long weekend to the snowmobile paradise which is Idaho.
First to the gym, then a shower and zip over to Wingers with the laptop.
I don't need anyone to eat with--I have my computer!
Well, it's not mine...hubby borrowed it so that 3 of us could play WoW together last week...
I am pumped.
Somehow I have a feeling that my brilliant plan is going to be gnawed upon by Mice.
Or possibly men, because it really is the best laid plan I've had all week.
Last night was the best laid Me I'd had all week.
Heh.

Mercury

I visited a History of Printing museum
And was graced with the beginning of a poem:
Metal running like water
Letters carved into lead
Words flow across the landscape of humanity.
But with me, beginnings are always left end-less.
The endless beginnings,
The countless endings—
Churning through my mind and rushing out into my blood stream.
They poison the soft, warm air of my nostrils and slip down my unwary throat.
Will they surface again, those truncated tales?
Will they weld themselves together, those beginnings and those endings?
Will they conquer me and own me, or will I continue to neglect them
And in doing so, negate them?

Have a simply delicious day, would you?
Thanks.

As promised--

2007-03-05T17:09:00.000-07:00

because I'm nothing if not a man of my word.
Er.
Woman, that is.
And also, I'm nothing if not a procrastinator and a flake who usually forgets she even made promises like this one, so whatever.

The "I don't really need reading glass yet, but I read so much my eyes hurt, so why not?" reading glasses.

The "sold in the men's section, and not as girlie as some of the girlie boxers" Boxers.

Well, fuck.

2007-03-04T19:34:00.000-07:00

(as opposed to "well-fucked" or "we'll fuck")

I really kind of would like to move operations back over to the old location,
but there's a problem.
My homepage is set to this URL, so everytime I open I think of this blog.
It matters not that both blogs are associated with the same log-in profile thing-a-majig.
And now you know how I translate lazy-type behaviors into some sort of inverse OCD.
Oh well.

I stepped on some glass, or something sharp and barely-visible this morning.
It hurt like a motherfucker for a second or less and then I hopped around for a while,
hoping it would miraculously fall out.
Hubby even brought me my reading glasses so I could see better,
and some tweezers and wound cleaning solution.
I dutifully contorted myself so that I could see the outside edge of my right foot,
but all I could locate was the place where blood was peeking out onto the surface.
Hm.
Hubby got even closer and has naturally spectacular vision and he said there was nothing there.
Then he poked at it just to prove his point and I squealed.
Well, it IS his birthday today.
He's allowed to do whatever he wants.
Ha.
No, what really happened is that he refused to excise the invisible intruder because he hates hurting me, but I forced him to try and then changed my mind.
So, I'm a bit gimpy, but I imagine I'll live.
Unless there was tetanus on that little devil...
or poison (of a very slow-working variety)...
or something else equally far-fetched.
Anywho.
It was a good day.
We went to the Planetarium to see a couple of shows, but one of them was cancelled.
Oh well. The other one was most fabulous.

I went shopping for some clothes for my husband as one of his birthday presents
(he's lost 20 pounds in the past month or so and he's been looking forward to updating his wardrobe, so it wasn't an entirely utilitarian gift! Besides, I gave him 3 other things that were VERY thoughtful and why am I defending myself to YOU??)
and I considered (briefly--pun intended) getting him some silk boxers.
Just for my own personal enjoyment.
But they didn't have any I liked and then I changed my mind anyway, and in the course of my men's underwear persual I discovered a disturbing trend.
Several of the main prints were very feminine.
Not that there's anything wrong with That, but...
if I see a guy drop trou and there are butterflies and/or petunias staring back at me, I'm going to wonder if my adam's apple's showing!
Whatever.
I guess I'm not very progressive.
I did, however, love the prints and grabbed a pair for myself.
So, I'll take a photo soon and you guys can vote on whether you'd want to make out with or go shopping with a guy wearing the same print.
Did that make sense?
Anywho, sense or nononsense, I'll snap some pictures of the boxers and the reading glasses, just for fun.
Yes, I'll be modelling both.
I'm still VAIN, of course!!!

And did I mention I'm as sleepy as a princess in a tower with a cursed spindle...?

Call me Sybil

2007-03-02T10:09:00.000-07:00

But I posted over at Bored Housewife today.
Don't worry, I'm just testing the waters.
No sudden changes on the horizon or anything.
I just feel like that site was more ME in a way.
I abandoned it when I was overwhelmed and stressed out and I needed an escape from everything, and the only one of my "responsibilities" that I could elude was that one.
I don't know if I'll get more involved in blogging again if I switch back, or if the URL hosting my words will in any way affect them, but I'm considering it.

I have also started doing a daily writing exercise to pump some life into my fiction attempts.
I may start posting those, a la Spontaneous Fiction, but I may not.
(I mean, I'm not THAT good!)

K.
Go read my real post.

Making bread

2007-02-28T15:35:00.001-07:00

Making bread

Something is stirring in me...

2007-02-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

And it's not a spoon, people!!!
It's...
that feeling of spring's impending arrival--
the awakening of the places that are made for growth and renewal and
vegetation.
I want moss to purr across my rock hard thighs
and ferns to brush across my shoulders and
vines to wend their way across my back and down my arms, tendrils of their verdant progression dripping off my fingers.
I want to be alive!!!
...er....I am, I guess.
And I feel it.
I am also an addict.
No, not World of Warcraft, although...it really is a rush...
No.
Worse.
Much more shameful and much less healthy (although, to be fair...sitting in a chair for hours on end wouldn't be very healthy either; good thing I'm hitting the gym nice n' regl'ar like...).
No.
Not a video game, not an illegal substance.
Not alcohol, not sex (well, maybe that too, but that's another story for another day. Or not.).
After reading about the patterns of and the emotions surrounding the heroin/coke addictions of Senor Kiedis,
I had a startling realization--
I am addicted to sugar.
I am compelled to eat dessert.
I often don't even WANT it, but I feel that I MUST eat it.
I think to myself, "Don't have another doughnut, Lisa." Or, "You know you will hate yourself if you have more cake!" But it doesn't deter me.
I guess this is a rather silly comparison, but did I ever tell you about my compulsion for making certain sound combinations?
I did.
I know I did.
But it freaks with my head sometimes.

The real reason I'm here right now is that I am ready to go back to Bored Housewife
dot
com.
I miss that place, I miss that spring in my step, I miss those nipples poking your eye out!
I think I need to go there if I'm going to recapture the essence of
me.
But maybe not.
Maybe it's gone.
Maybe I used it all up.
Maybe I've been running on fumes of the essence of me for so long that they're gone, too.
And now, I am just a person, not an artist.
Nah.
I'll keep ya posted on the site location.
This may just be me, talkin' crazy talk.
All hopped up on Red Hot Chili Peppers and Scar Tissue.
That book is one effective marketing tool, I tell ya what--
I have purchased 3 CDs of theirs since I bought it and I almost joined their fan club but then I remembered I'm not a 13 year old girl (I am, however, possessed by a 13 year old boy at times; and a Dirty Old Man at others, but how is any of that relevant??)

Ok, my siren is calling.
My dranei is now a level 16 mage.
And she is sex-ay.
good night geek haters!

I am

2007-02-23T15:31:00.000-07:00

Or maybe I'm not, I can never quite tell.

Today was a snowy day, and I took full advantage:
I snuggled in bed and read for a while,
talked to my Mom on the phone for an hour (as usual),
made brownies (yes, again),
then I shoveled the driveway,
then I built a surprisingly aesthetically pleasing snowman with the kids.
And now I'm considering a shower...
But only because I have guests arriving in a few hours.
We're having a movie night which was supposed to be my two (world's awesomest) brothers, and the two married daughters of one of them, but they are mostly located about 45 mintues away and they thought it would continue snowing all day.
So.
I'm not sure who's still coming besides my neices/nephews-in-law (is that even a real thing??) but we'll have a great time!

I bought a couple of toys today.
And some delicious cologne for my delicious husband.
When we first started dating he mentioned his distaste for such things, so I've never bothered to get him any, but he is willing and I found one I loooove.
The toys?
Wouldn't YOU like to know!
We already have an entire suitcase full of them, but both of our vibrating pieces stopped working this week
(possible overuse...?)
so we needed replacements and we have this new thing we've been working on that we decided would be facilitated by a g-spot stimulating vibrator.
I may or may not let you know how that turns out.
Cuz there's this other trick we've been working on that makes a vibrator a very useful tool.
Oh, don't you wish I wasn't being so coy??
haaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahhaaa!!!
Suckers.
I wish I felt like returning to my days of Fantasy Fridays and Braless Tuesdays,
but I don't.
And if this blog (in either of its incarnations) has ever been ABOUT anything,
it's been about the Truth of Me, at whatever moment my fingers touch the keyboard.
So, the Truth of Me at this moment is not to share my fantasies with the world,
nor even to indulge in any.
I discovered that they are very dangerous for me.
I am not saying that anyone else's are dangerous for them, but for me it's not safe.
Wanting is like heroin for me.
I love wanting and when I want, I simply must have.
Anywho.

I am planning on having a lovely weekend.
I hope you do the same.

Time for another incarnation of--

2007-02-21T12:49:00.000-07:00

me.
I'm not sure what this one will be, but I think I am ready to wear a new version of the old
hat.
I was so low last month that my chin was scraping along the rocks of rock bottom.
But sometimes you have to die to be born again, so here I am.
Alive.
Ready.
And still wondering who I'll be tomorrow,
still wondering why I deserve such luck.

I am reading a book...
and I find myself so caught up in it,
that it's like I'm living it.
It's an autobiography.
As I drove through the winter-pretending-to-be-spring sunshine today, the sky a softer blue than usual, and the mountains still stark white in their sharpness, here is what I said to its author:
What an odd sensation to be immersed in your life, so different from mine that night and day look like clones.
I feel like I am wrapped in a silk sheet of you, the sandpaper of your soul spiralling around my own, leaving marks like asphault on knees.
Your life is now dancing across me the way that your music always has.
You sexy, poet of the flesh, Anthony Kiedis!
I love the way you love.
I want your dreams in white powder to float up my nose and charge through my veins.
As I maneuver the passages of this monstrous castle of words,
some of them are not yours.
They stand out like white hot flames in a black night.
Editors.
Your story flows and surges,
but words sporadically appear that feel as though they are badly dubbed
(not trite substitutions like "keyhole" for "asshole")
but it is as if we sit in a shadowy bar,
smoke settling in layers above us
(indoor clouds)
and your mouth is still moving, but your voice falls silent and in its place some Poindexter or Hippie or Editor fills the silence with a voice too eager, too careful.
I love your book, Anthony Kiedis,
you gorgeous creature,
you marveled-at creation,
you dazzling creator!
You are an imperfect god,
a fallen angel,
a man.

Scar Tissue.
We've all got some.

Tuesdays used to be so much cooler than this...

2007-02-20T13:07:00.000-07:00

Remember the good ole days?
I do.
I remember them fondly.
Fondle-y.

See, I'm a housewife again.
A true blue housewife.
I have a routine, and it is nice.
I am reading for pleasure again and that is so far beyond nice that I can hardly sit still!
I may just figure out what to write a novel about, some day soon.
That'd be swell.

I wish I had more to say, but I don't.
No news is good news, though, so there's that.

I'm trying to decide the order in which to do the following:
1. mop the floor
2. shower
3. make rocky road brownies

It's a rough life, I know.
And mostly I'm looking forward to 3:05, when my kids tumble into the house and their coats, shoes, socks, and backpacks erupt across the entire foyer.
I really am--that sounded like a smartass complaint, but I really can't wait for them to get here.
We're going to watch the entire Napolean Dynamite...
they started watching it the other day while I was showering, and I could hear them laughing over the running water.
They were DYING.
And then last night they couldn't sleep and they came into our room to "get a drink" (read: waste some time) and Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and recited the tot scene perfectly!
Nathan Napoleon, give me some of your tots.
Napoleon Dynamite No, go find your own!
Nathan Come on, give me some of your tots.
Napoleon Dynamite No, I'm freakin' starving! I didn't get to eat anything today.
Nathan [kicks the tots]
Napoleon Dynamite Ugh! Gross! Freakin' idiot

I almost hurt myself from laughing at his rendition.
So, I think it's a totally important thing for me to snuggle up with them and watch the whole movie while eating freshly baked brownies.
Don't you?

All hopped up on coffee and edamame

2007-02-16T13:39:00.000-07:00

Seriously.
I got so much done today!!
It was, like, totally tubular.
...make that legume-ular.
*snort*
I'm such a dork.
I cleaned 3 of the 4 bathrooms in my house, organized a couple of cabinets,
emptied trash, did laundry--
I was in the mood to be a housewife, basically.
It happens from time to time.
No one really knows why.

Cupid is as cupid does.

2007-02-14T08:29:00.000-07:00

Or something.

I smell like sausage.
And it is making me nauseous.
The little ones love sausage.
Bleh.
And the stench of it hangs on me for hours.
I love eating bacon, but I gag over the smell of its cooking process clinging to my hair and skin and clothes.
I am a carnivore to the core, but the smell of these meats cooking is just not my thing.

Wow.
Aren't you glad you came here to read about nausea and MEAT???
Fuuuuck.
I'm really slipping.
I think I can almost remember a time when I was an interesting and interested blogger.
Now I am the poster child for apathy.
The spokes model for the "I don't give a shit" campaign.
And I'm sick of looking for reasons for everything so I'm not going to ponder this.

I did, however, get what should have been a frickin' awesome plasma ball for my kids for a Valentine's Day present, and it was JUNK.
It must have been the one everyone had tried out, cuz it had STICKY finger prints all over it and other unidentifiable substances.
AND.
It did not work the way they are supposed to.
The box said it should be voice activated as well as touch, and no, it wasn't.
The picture showed many little fingers of electric light stretching from the center of the ball to the glass surface, and when turned on there were no fingers.
(just finger prints)
If you touched the glass (frightening thought though it was), you could get the light to attach to your finger.
So much for giving my kids the
BEST
PRESENT
EVER.
Oh well.

I have some fun stuff planned for Mr. Husband, and that's the important part.
I can't say just yet, in case he reads here, but I'll tell you all about it if/when I feel like it.
Let's just say that some of your comments were very inspirational.

I hope you each have fantastic days and nights and everything in between--

On the 9th day of Valentine's....

2007-02-12T15:58:00.001-07:00

My true love gave to me--

I think I'll be his Valentine!
You can't really tell from this camera phone picture,
but the roses are red with darker red tiger/zebra stripes.
They are as unique and sexy as I am!
(or so he said...)
Yes, I'm awash in love and adoration.
I could get used to this...

Like a destiny to run from....

2007-02-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

Or a spark in the dark--
wint-o-green lifesaver.
I love connections and concoctions and
cocks....
where was I?

I love it when I'm a young tough girl in a push up bra, and I step
outside but not to brawl--
because that reminds me of hiking up my skirt a little more, so I can
show my world to you....
and what I really meant to say was
I love it when you lift up my skirt,
and I can feel your hand on my ass,
and your fingers trail forward
and slip between folds,
growing wetter
and I pant (pantiless)
and we surge together,
plunge together,
come
together.

I'm pretty sure I will make my fortune with words like that...
strung together like a chain of paper, flipping in the breeze, blowing
up skirts and knocking off hats.

I want to exist in my own world,
I want to slip away into my own thoughts and have them all be of...
I want to slip into your thoughts and trip over stacks of notes you've
taken about me....
I want to write songs to and for and about and around and over and
under and WITH and because of--
each other.
I want to learn to play the piano again and have someone teach me how to sing...

Spring is here.
For the moment.
Very early, but very timely.
We had a much colder winter than usual, and it feels like summer to
have 50-60 degree weather.
I jumped on the trampoline with the kiddos this afternoon in the
sunshine and felt
alive.
My thoughts turned to Galen--
he helped assemble the tramp, and it sits just under his window, so
it's always been sort of connected to him for me.
The first thing Oliver said to me was, "When Galen said, 'I'm gonna
flip you,' he meant he was going to FLIP US OVER! And he did (on the tramp)." I
smiled and commented that he was a nice uncle, wasn't he? And Oliver
continued on, sensing the importance of this conversation, I just know
it. He said, "And remember we were too small to get on by ourselves
and he helped us?" I smiled and acquiesced, once again, and then he
said, "Or maybe it was you. Or Dad....but I'm pretty sure Galen helped
us." He knows. He feels that Galen is important and good. That makes
my heart jump like a couple of kids on a trampoline....

And today I made two cakes for the MIL's birthday dinner tomorrow.
According to the kiddos I made 9 cakes.
Which is true, but only 2 recipes.
One a simple yellow cake mix...with real butter...and it is somehow the spongiest yummiest delight!
I could eat it
all
day
long.
BUT.
I didn't pour it into a single pan, nor even two pans.
I poured half the batter into the 6 small hearts in my new (12 days of Valentine's) pan,
and the other half into a single-layer heart shaped cake pan.
Aw....cute!!!
This cake was the after thought--
the one for the kids who are squeamish and picky and will miss out on the luscious, real cake.
The German chocolate cake from scratch.
I know I've talked about this cake on here before, but it is just so damn delicious.
It is supposed to be done in 3 round layers, but I prefer it in two 9X13 pans.
So there ya go.
6 small cakes, 2 large, 1 medium.
NINE cakes.
My kids are so silly.
And then tomorrow I'll make the coconut/pecan filling which is the truly sinful part of the German Chocolate Cake, and I will make cheese stuffed shells.
Hopefully everyone will come...
this is a new venture for their family.

One of my sons has taken a rather disturbing interest in the Bible lately.
Ok, ok, it's not disturbing.
I kind of like it, I just hate the fact that I wasn't the one to introduce the concepts of religion into their lives.
I should have realized that someone *cough* MIL *cough* would do it for me if I didn't get around to it, but still.
Pisses me off.
Now I have to go and correct her misinformation.
WE believe that there are many possibilities and you may choose your own.
grr.
Oh well.
It's good for me.
He was so funny...I told him that there are children's Bibles with pictures and all the best stories, etc, and his little eyes lit up and he got all wistful and I said, "Do you want one...?"
He did.
He was surprised that I said we would go and get one in the morning (today).
Usually when they ask for "stuff" I tell them to remember it for their birthday or something.
Heh.
So then he said, "It's good for kids to have their own Bible because then when their moms and dads are busy on their computer or doing the dishes or talking on the phone (eeeek! I'm busted!) they can just read their Bible while they wait for their mom or dad to be done."
SERIOUSLY.
It's a little unnerving to have your 6 year old say something like that.
Oh well.

In related news, aforementioned Mother-in-law (a.k.a. "MIL") has lost her mind.
What little of it there was left.
She is preparing, rather vigorously, for the Apocolypse.
It's the end of the world as we know it, and she feels fine.
She is not going to work any longer.
This may not sound alarming to some of you, but this woman is 58 and has ZERO savings.
She is currently renting our old house from us.
Suddenly, it's OUR problem.
Gah.
One of the possibilities is for her to come live here, which I guess I could handle, if she adheres to some very strict guidelines, but I'm looking for other solutions.
I'll keep you posted...

In unrelated news, my mom is coming to visit us in April.
SHE is a dream.
Cheerful and helpful and considerate.
Ahem. I guess it is sort of related news...
*cough* opposites *cough*
Ok, ok, I'm just jinxing myself, here, I better stop!

Happy weekend to you all--

Beautiful day, beautiful world--

2007-02-08T08:31:00.000-07:00

Yup.
I have phone interviews all morning, and I just realized that I had a dream recently where I was aghast to discover that I was writing such mundane things on my blog.
Apparently my subconcious would prefer a steady stream of poetry.
Or perhaps rants?
Dunno.
But that reminds me...
I spent some time at the book store yesterday and have realized that I, too, am a book addict.
I am a library addict, too, but this book buying thing is pretty damn cool, too.
I wanted to buy about 10 books yesterday--and I would have wanted more, but I forced myself to leave.
I was a good girl and only bought the two books I had intended to buy for part of my husband's Valentine's Day gift and one cook book for myself...
I HAD to buy it because it was put together so well.
I don't know if I'll like any of the recipes but the important thing is that it had photographs to go with each recipe--of the finished product as well as some of the steps of preparation! Whoa.
Not only that, but they had gone to the trouble of binding it in such a way that even though it looked to be bound like a standard hardcover book, the pages were actually bound in very small groups so that the pages would lie flat upon opening the book.
There is a whole series...I should buy them all...
SEEEE??????
Addiction.
Anyway...

So speaking of V-Day, if anyone's looking for Cupid, the fat little naked bugger has been hanging out at my house.
My darling husband has filled my heart so full of his love that I'm practically drowning.
Translation: I'm in bliss!
He's been doing this Twelve Days of Valentine's thing...giving me a present and a letter every day.
The letters are the best part, of course, but the gifts have been extremely thoughtful.
So, I am plotting and planning my reply.
I was already planning to make this Valentine's Day a special one, but now the pressure's really on!
Just kidding...I don't feel pressured, just hopeful that I can make him feel as loved as I feel.

Ok, time to focus on interview preparations...
Happy Thursday, everyone!

Oh what a day--

2007-02-06T19:05:00.000-07:00

A haircut from the Magic Man,
during which we got to catch up on each other's lives,
after which he straightened my hair.
Yum!!
And then off to the (say it with disdain) mall.
My poor, dear friend who was laid off and is now working towards her dream job took a job at the 3stee L@uder counter at a department store in the interim.
She is way over qualified, even to be the manager as she is.
BUT.
Today was the first day of Fr33 Gift day.
(sorry for all the funny spellings...just don't need that kinda traffic...ew...Plastics...)
SO.
Anyway...
the point is...
she did my makeup while I was there.
It is hard to tell in pictures, but it really was miraculous.
She made me look like....
like....
I don't know what.
Like someone more beautiful than I planned on being.
I used flash for these photos and did not touch up anything, and therefore, I have a bit of a glare on my forehead.
But I swear it looks awesome in real life.

And, since I finally remembered to upload pictures from the camera,
here is one of the sink at that hotel last week.

Ok, enough.

So we had fun making me purdy today, for nothing!
I had a quick lunch with D and then we stopped by the heinous BYU in order for her to use the internet for a moment (long story) and we ran into my doppleganger.
A girl from far across the earth, another whole way of life, another era, with a different background and a very different future.
But yet...
I am drawn to her.
And we look the same(ish).
Very odd.
Maybe she can tame the surly beast that I could not.
Maybe it is untameable.
But anyway, it was fun to see her unexpectedly.
And then I scurried on home, my shopping bags full of luxurious items for my hair and skin.

I am waiting with held breath for the flu that everyone else has...
will it strike me next?

I am visited by ghosts...
ghosts of life, ghosts of dreams, ghosts of aching hearts and ghosts of unknown thoughts.

Yesterday, as my I cowered under the shadow of a deadline,
my doorbell rang.
Against my better judgment, I loped up the stairs and opened my door.
Missionaries.
Adorable missionaries.
Angelically make-outable missionaries.
Bah.
So I sighed and said, "I don't have time for this. I'm sorry. Have a good day."
But in the moment between the door opening and me finding the words I was lost in the infinite space between telling them everything--who I am, the path I've walked, the choices I am happy to have made, my current beliefs--and flipping them the bird.
I wanted to scream at them, to unleash all my fury on them.
I wanted to say, "I have a deadline, but if you'll come back in an hour, and make out with me, you can talk to me about joseph smith all you want!"
I wanted to moon them, flash them, spit on them.
I wanted to vomit on them, cook for them, take their pants off.
I was frozen.
It felt like a year passed, as I stood there deciding, letting my fear of having no article to turn in rock my rational thought into dust.

and then TODAY.
At the horrific mall, a guy was selling Mormon cartoon videos from one of those kiosks.
His pitch goes as follows, "Have you received your free Scripture video yet, ma'am?"
I kept walking, tossing a curt, "No," over my shoulder.
Unfortunately, I had to walk past him in my reentry to the store where my friend works.
He caught my eye, I don't know how.
Smiling, he asked if I had changed my mind.
"No. Not in ten years, nor will I," I said, returning his smile.
As I stroke past, "How about 11?"
I laughed. "No."
"...12?"
I wanted to kiss him.
Hmmm...I'm noticing a trend...
God is taunting me.
Making me feel attraction for these objects of my disgust.
Harumph.
Serves me right.

Dirty old man, indeed.

I am also going to the Mormon cannery tomorrow with a girl friend and a few of her (mormon) friends...
this is a couple of hours of volunteer time at the cannery in exchange for the right to purchase stuff.
...the gots some goood dried apples....and refried beans....
fuck me.
I should have gotten out of here while I still could!!!
Fuckers.
I'm getting sucked in, aren't I?
Well.
As long as they let me:
1. s-a-y the FUCK word
2. fuck myself
3. watch R-rated movies
4. drink any/all alcohol that I choose
5. smoke stuff when/if I want to
6. watch porn
7. lie, cheat, steal, plunder, murder, rape, pillage.......
uh...
yeah.

Curiously Strong Urge to Blog

2007-02-05T08:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, not really.
I just have a half hour to kill between dropping kids off at school and meeting friend at the gym for a class.
I could have just gone to the gym, but at that point I would have had a whole extra hour.
And who really needs 2 whole hours of working out???
Oh, yeah, that's right: ME.
Oh well.
I didn't want to be burned out for the class and look like a whimp.
(yeah, i know! It's an awesome excuse, isn't it?)

So the great news is: I am still writing theatre for the paper.
It feels good.
Now maybe I can finish up that stupidass Independent Study course.
But also maybe not.

Tomorrow I get to have a haircut by the magical mystery man,
and then pop in to see two of my dearest friends while they work.
I haven't seen them in a while (about 3 weeks ago), so it'll be grand.
They both got new jobs since I saw them last and it'll be interesting to check them out.

Blah.
Blah.
BLAH.
I am seriously about as interesting as damp cardboard right now.
We had fun at our friends' Super Bowl party yesterday.
Hot tub at half-time, good food, etc.

Gurgling around in the sink drain--

2007-02-01T11:12:00.000-07:00

That's me.
Like the residue from 86.3 dirty dishes...
Anywho.
What I really meant to say was I'm vascillating between being busy and lazy.
Still.
It's the strangest phenomenon, actually.

So, before I dash off to get a couple of birthday presents for my kids to give the birthday boy tomorrow, I shall share with you two things I wrote in other mediums.

Known in blog world is a "meme", I give you--
a pass-along MySpace bulletin:

Damn and curse you, Jason!!
Putting my name on the last one was like a dare.
And I don't back down from a dare.
(Or a D.A.R.E. cop.)

1. I've come to realize that my last kiss.....
was full of love

2. I am listening to.....
the washing machine fill with water on the floor above me,
the furnace humming around the corning,
and...the voices in my head. Duh.

3. I talk.....
A WHOLE FUCKIN' LOT

4. I love.....
too hard, too vastly.

5. My best friend.....
wishes I would be HER wife

6. My first real kiss.....
was so incredible--and took 3 weeks of hand-holding and nerves of gossamer to achieve!

8. I hate it when people ask.....
...can't think of anything...I don't mind being asked things, I guess.

9. Love is.....
what makes the world go round, baby!

10. Marriage is.....
Really hard, but really worth it

11. Somewhere, someone is thinking.....
about me. (yeah, I'm a narcissist, what's it to ya??)

12. I'll always.....
crave the ocean and soul quenching love

13. I have a crush.....
no, I don't. That's far too dangerous for me these days. Ha!

14. The last time I cried was because.....
I felt my world being gouged apart by my own actions.

15. My cell phone.....
is about to get replaced. Praise Jeebus.

16. When I wake up in the morning.....
My brain doesn't work for at least ten minutes. It's almost as if I'm brain damaged--I seriously can't even speak coherantly, and that's kind of a good thing, because DAMN I'm ornery!!!! And no, I don't drink coffee. I just naturally reach a normal level of blood sugar or serotonin or estrogen or crack or whatever...

17. Before I go to bed.....
I make sure all the doors are locked and there are clean clothes for my kiddos to wear to school, laid out so I don't have to try to find matching shirts and pants in the aforementioned haze of death.

18. Right now I am thinking about.....
How much I hate getting up in the morning. And how excited I am to go get in bed with my book. Orson Scott Card rocks my universe.

19. Babies are.....
the most amazing little science experiments EVER. Watching them develop is better than basic cable, man!

20. I get on myspace.....
and wonder why the fuck I still have an account here. Point.Less.

21. Today I.....
went to the gym via my anti-lock brakes and a sidewalk....ahem...and then proceeded to do Jack + Shit for most of the day. How do I do it??? When I have no deadlines, I get NOTHING done. Nothing. I seriously didn't do anything. At all. Oh, I took a bath with my little friend, but that doesn't count. Or does it? Well, whatever. That was the highlight of the day, I think. Oh, I also talked to a dear-and-delectable friend who I hardly ever see, so that was awesome. She is a ray of sunshine (and a half).

22. Tonight I will.....
Dream of my life lived by somebody else, in a world where quality of heart is more prized than skin-deep beauty and love is not contained and refrained and restrained and....sigh.

23. Tomorrow it will be....
February.

24. I really want to be.....
The center of the universe

25. Someone that will most likely repost this is.....
YOU

(I do expect everyone to play along and redo this on their respective sites. Thank you. Please drive around.)

*****

and a little piece of fiction/poetry/whatever that crap is that comes out of my head sometimes:

I should have known it would happen. Too many songs about wings flying constantly through my head, my heart, and too many poems about flying, winging around on my keyboard.
It started one morning at the chiropractor, or at least that’s when I first knew it was happening. There were two small knobby things growing under my skin, between my spine and my shoulder blades. I felt a chill as the doctor chuckled and said, “It looks like you’re sprouting wings.” I still wonder how he didn’t notice the truth of his own words crackling through the air.
So now I have wings. They fold up nicely, smoothly, like butterfly wings, only made of something less crushable—like silk, only organic to me, skin? I don’t know. Something. But they’re beautiful and they’re strong. They say if you wish for something hard enough it can come true. Well, whoever “they” are, they just might be right. I haven’t figured out yet why I have the wings, or where they could have possibly originated. How did I come to have wings? I am a woman, not a butterfly, and unlike Peter Parker, I was not bitten by a radioactive butterfly or shit on by a radioactive bird…I just have wings. And I use them to soar. Usually in the night sky, because, well…how could I explain them? And I’m sure someone would want to study me. Put me in a cage and do tests and take blood samples. And who knows? Maybe there has been a change in my DNA. Maybe I’m evolving.
Maybe I’m not alone.

(and yes, I'm hoping to turn that into something More.)

If I were a color...

2007-01-29T11:32:00.000-07:00

I think I would be shades of grey
today.
If I were shades of grey
I wonder if I would be mostly white,
like my luminescent skin
OR
mostly black,
like my curls.
Even though I'm shades of grey
today,
I still have a dash of red where my mouth should be
and I still have deep purple and velvety black-ish blue
surging up from inside me--
if they erupt, then I will not be grey anymore--
I will be a rainbow trout,
a peacock's tail,
a chameleon running through a paint store...

Today I want to be funny, but I am not.
Today is one of the days on which I realize how fucking fantastic I really am.
Today I think about growing old with--
or without?
Tomorrow is when I'll do all my chores, all my homework.
Today I live.
...and attempt to be less focused on finding myself and more focused on giving myself.

*********

And then...
I have a funny story for you.
It's horrible, actually.
Whore-ible.
So last week during my stay with hubby for his business trip,
I texted him one day with an urgent request for his presence.
"Do you have time for a nooner?" I queried.
He did indeed.
So we did.
Indeed.
And I have been known to possibly make a smallish amount of noise during the act and particularly during the climactic moments.
Ahem.
(yes, we're pretending to be all prudish. go with it.)
So then hubby goes back to work.
Well.
There are workmen in the hallways because of the renovations.
They did not know that we checked in together and had both been there all week.
They only saw me coming and going from the gym and hubby coming and...cumming.
ahem.
ok, so they didn't SEE him cumming, but they heard me, so that's close enough.
Anywho.
When hubby went to the desk to check out, he learned that the workmen had decided I was a PROSTITUTE and had told the front desk about it!!!!!!!!
HOLY.
FUCK.
I was literally aghast and giggling.
Oh yeah, I guess I had also taken care of some business by myself either the day before or the day after with the accompanying soundtrack, and that contributed to their assumption.
Asses.

Speaking of objectification of women...
I can never quite figure out where I stand on that issue.
I think the hotter I feel, the less it bothers me.
the fatter I feel, the more it infuriates me.
They should be objectifying ME, goddammit!!!
Wow.
I'm like, super mega delux Crazy.

I'm home

2007-01-26T18:25:00.000-07:00

The kids are sick but otherwise all is well.
Little Oliver has been pretending he can't walk for 2 days...
I snapped him out of it in the first hour I was back.
I do NOT know what that was all about, but I'm guessing he wanted attention and/or to stay home from school, and Grandma didn't know what else to do but let him.
Bless her crazy heart.
Oh well, worked out ok, I guess.
Nutty little boy!!!

It was a good trip.

I find myself unable to write.
There is too much to say, which can't be said.
How do I solve this puzzle?
I am trapped in a Labyrinth, but I have a poor sense of direction.
Fuck.

Fountain

2007-01-25T14:02:00.001-07:00

Fountain

the sink in my hotel room

2007-01-22T10:58:00.001-07:00

Better shots to come

I took some cooler shots of it on my real camera, but I didn't bring the cable to upload the pictures.
It's way cooler than it looks, I promise.
I think the joystick is a weird way to turn on the water, but the best part is the little waterfall that happens every time...
I'm a child, so what?

for more information about my trip so far, please see the comment I left below.
I will retrieve it and post it here as soon as I can, but right now it's being pissy.

Here it is:

The flight went well, we got our rental car and found the hotel quite easily. The building is pretty, the room is pretty, but...they are under renovations and it is apparent that they were not so lovely before...AND....there was a sign posted by the elevator in the parking garage stating that there are chemicals in the building known to cause tumors and harm to reproductive organs!!! I'll take a picture of it...So was it a coincidence that after our (amazing and delicious) dinner, as soon as we returned to the hotel my PERIOD started? And then I woke up this morning with a goddamned UTI???? Mother fuckers. So...dear sweetest hubby went to the store for icky girlie items and over-the-counter UTI remedies. Here's hoping.

And did I mention it's in the 60s here? Might sound cold to you SoCal-ers, but it feels marvelous to me! It's been below freezing for weeks in Utah.

Whirlwind Life

2007-01-20T14:59:00.000-07:00

...and now I'm off to California.
Mr. husband has 3 weeks in a row of business trips, so I'm going to tag along this week.
We'll be in the Bay Area, and I'm already planning a rendez-vous with one of my longest known co-bloggers.
I am SO excited to be meeting her!!
I will not lie: I kinda wish it was just the two of us, so we could good-n-girl talk, but my husband is a wonderful conversationalist and we'll have a grand ole time, I'm sure.
Other than that, I'm planning on holing up in the (rather lovely) room with a borrowed laptop and a GIANT stack of books.
Time to get serious about being a writer.
And what's better than a week in a hotel with nothing to do but read and write, then have dinner and lazy/sexy evenings with the greatest love I've ever known?
I'm such a lucky star that I might have to wish on myself!
...which sounds deliciously masturbatory, so I'll take it!

Speaking of reading...
I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but I've been having trouble reading for the past year.
Not, like, losing my ability to comprehend or whatever, but losing my ability to FINISH a book.
Previously, I was one of those "devour a large book in 2 days" types.
A feverish and insatiable reader I was.
(welcome, Yoda)
But round abouts a year ago, I began leaving good books unfinished.
I've accumulated 6 or 7 in that category so far, and it leaves me rather shaky.
I don't know how to not finish books.
It feels....ragged, unresolved.
So I'm taking a few of those along, as well as a couple of new ones with dashing good looks in the style department.
I'm also taking a few "how to be a writer" books, cuz...even though I know, I don't really know, ya know?
i.e., I could always stand to learn a bit more.
A lot more, frankly.
heh.
So there.
And today makes 5 days in a row of great workouts.
This is the first week in over a year that I've been able to say that.
Most of the last 50 or 60 weeks I've gone at least once and 90% of those were probably more like 2 or 3 times, but that's just not good enough.
I love muscle memory, and the way I tone back up so quickly.
I love my chiropractor for gently and almost unknowingly reminding me to
FOCUS ON LOWER ABS, DUMASS.
I mean...if it's hard to do something, chances are you should do MORE of it and not LESS.
DUMBASS.
(the part of "DUMBASS" played by Lisa)
So Dr. Crack-yer-back-ter suggested I do some lower ab exercises to help strength the muscles in my lower back, which is where I've been having pain.
And it was like all the light bulbs in an entire lighting store going on at once.
...my vision is still kinda screwed up from that whole affair, but it was worth it.

Now?
Bowling with lesbians!
And another mother of twins.
My favorite lesbian, by the way.
The girl that could turn me in a heartbeat if turning were in the cards for me.
She is an amazing woman in just about every way, and purdy, to boot!
I hear she has even better tits than me, too.
(yes, I'm humoring you dear dirty boys out there with that last line. You're welcome.)

Ok, and now I must do the most important thing: spend some quality time with my step son.
What?
He's very important to me.
(this has nothing to do with the new characters we started together on WoW last night...new race...new powers...new quests....fuck you guys, I'm logging in!)

2007-01-17T15:06:00.000-07:00

So who's up for pretending that last post never happened?
I have a fun one for you today, and maybe we'll get into that whole ball of earwax another time.
I pinky swear.

Here's the rundown of my day so far:
8:30 gym
9:30 friend arrives at gym
9:32 we giggle and dash off to her house to sit in the hot tub!!!
tick
tock
Talkin-up-a-storm
tick
tock
*yawn*
tick-tock
Chatty McChattertons
vs.
Pruney O'Prunes
12:30 head to Wingers for some superbly unhealthy food, only to discover it is $2 draft day!!!!!
FUCK YES.
And the waiter was kind enough to recommend an apricot hefeweizen...
oh, yes...oh, lords-a-mercy YES!
So we ate and talked and ate and talked.
We drank and spilled secrets--which is much better than spilling beer, I mean, christ, what do you take me for?? Some kind of MONSTER???
Talk about a perfect day, man.
Perfection.
Hell, I even got to make a punctuation correction on the "Specials" markerboard on the way into the joint.
"Try our new combo's"....your new combo's what?
Does your combo have a new flavor, size, hairstyle??
Apostrophes are for possesion and contractions, muthafuckas!
I have figured out why there is such confusion in situations like that, though.
If you wrote "combination platters," then you wouldn't think twice about that apostrophe, but because "combo" is an abbreviation/made up word, the ending of it seems like a total wild card.
I myself am tempted to add apostrophes to the plural form of words which are either made up or slangily truncated.
(I totally fucking get to make anything I want into an adverb, too, so back off.)
So, anywho.
Grammar Tips Wednesday.
Woot.

And...Ok, I'm not really going to get into the drama, but needless to say some shit went down, rather calmly, all things considered.
We are more in love than ever (literally) and my life is secure again.
I will be taking this semester off (which sounds way more smooooth than "dropping out of school," don't you think?)
Because it's time for me to start living the dream instead of preparing for the dream by HIDING FROM IT.
No more putting off this whole "being a writer" thing.
I am one.
So let's get the fucking party started!!!

I have goals and schedules and timelines and....
I am really excited.

I just have to drop my classes...today's the deadline for that.
I am excited for that.
Just...sort of sad, too.
I loved being able to say "I go to the U (the nickname of my school...which beats the hell out of 'the Y' which is what the dorkwads call BYU. Fuckers. Don't they know that term is reserved for the YMCA, which is lots of fun to spell with your arms...) and write for their newspaper."
I plan to still write for them, if they'll let me, and incidentally, I'm not actually dropping out of school.
I will be back next fall because I do still value a degree.
It's just too much right now.
I need to be doing something that has palpable results.
Hot tub.
Sorry, had a flashback.
And no, nothing kinky happened.
Unless you count the fact that my nipples were rock hard the entire time due to the 10 degree weather outside...
Perverts.

Ok.
I am not sure I'm really back yet, but I had a post inside me and it was giving me splinters...
So there ya go.
I love you guys.

It's weird, I can't stay away from this place no matter how bad things get.
What the hell is that all about???
The two worst events of my life happened on the 12th of the month.
I think that'll have to become MY unlucky number.
13 was always lucky for me, anyway, and now 12 is blowing chunks, so: fuck you 12, you are officially EE-VILLE.

Happy day to you...

Au revoir...

2007-01-14T11:21:00.000-07:00

Well, this weekend turned out differently than I'd imagined.
Much, much differently.

I don't know how long I will actually be able to stay away from this passion of mine,
but I do know that I have nothing to say right now and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

I have gone and ruined my entire life.
I'll be as busy as all the king's horses and all the king's men trying to put it back together for the next little while.
I'm ok, but I don't have anything to say.

Some things, as it turns out, are not for public consumption.

I was going to post this morning

2007-01-12T08:07:00.000-07:00

But then I didn't.
Could you tell?

Busy day, but good busy.
You just never know with me, eh?
I'm either bitching cuz I'm too busy,
happy to be busy,
or whining cuz I'm bored.
Man.
I'd'a had to smack me by now if I were you.
...if you do, just make sure it's on my ass, ok?
*licks lips* Thanks.

Had a great workout, a good chiro session, a yummy lunch, fun shopping and--
now it's time to dash off to my Friday afternoon class, and off to a play tonight.
I am really excited to see this play.
Poker and outdoor hotub (with an in-ground AWESOME fire pit) at our friends' house tomorrow night.
And hopefully some good WoW time during the day tomorrow!
Woooot!

Buh-Bye.

If my wife wasn't such a BIIIITCH---

2007-01-09T17:42:00.000-07:00

Oh, wait.
I don't have a wife.
Maybe I was just writing down what I just said to my husband, mocking him.
Cuz we were teasing each other.
We have this fun, fighty thing; sometimes throws people off.
And there are the times when we're actually fighting, and that's no fun for anyone.
Except the neighbors--they actually get to sleep through the night if we're not makin' sweet love down by the fire.
Or whatever.
...cuz I'm LOUD in bed--get it?
get it, huh? get it?
Har.

Ok, so my day went well, as wished, so thank y'all very kindly.
I easily added the class I wanted,
and my affinity for it was proven to be warranted.
This professor rocks.
We are going to start off with Beowulf and end with Paradise Lost.
I KNOW!!
It's going to be hard and fun--
(ready? sing it--) Just like I like my sex!
Ha.

Don't look now, but someone is overdosing on italics today...

After class, I had a few hours to kill before the appointment with my counselor.
So I did some errands and then.
I went to the car wash!
Doesn't sound that exciting does it?
But it was.
I drove in and the little garge doors closed to keep in the heat and...
I thought, "Hm...I could totally masturbate right now!"
So I did.
And my first thought when I finished was how sexily I would share the details with you fine fellas.
but now I'm not in the mood.
I watched a couple of episodes of Dexter (the Showtime orginal series...)
and now I need to hurry and start my reading for next class.
I think something else important happened today, but I can't remember.

So I have History of American civ and Literary History...
quite a historical semseter, mm?

I also managed to lose the sparkly thing out of my nose ring.
Good thing I have a whole pile of other ones.

I wish I may, I wish I might--

2007-01-08T19:51:00.000-07:00

have this wish I wish tonight.
I wish.............
and I'm not telling you what it is, because then it won't come true.

Ha!

I do not feel like the semester is starting.
I am ready for it, I think.

I love the way love feels as it swirls around in your chest, like a dust storm in the Sahara.
Speaking of dust and storms--
I love when it's really-fuckin-dry here in the summer and the rain comes so fast and so hard that it is a mud storm--
wind blowing around sand and loose earth, dried from so
much
sun.
And mud will splatter down on you from the sky above.
Or when the hail marches across a summer afternoon,
leaving lovely, toe-less footprints across the grass.
I love it when there is a warm day in the middle of winter,
and you feel for a moment that summer is here again.
It seems like autumn always feels like spring and spring feels like autumn...
I find myself so turned around by the lack of pattern to the weather here that I have been known to write about it with ferocious vigor.

I want to walk into my classroom tomorrow and be allowed to add the class I want.
And then, I want the universe to slip its strong hand down between whatever clouds there are tomorrow (cumulous? stratus? cirrus? maybe even nimbus) and tweak the nipples of my destiny.
Give me the right class.
Give me the right professor.
Let me fall in love with my chosen subject from an academic standpoint!
Because...
right now, I kinda hate it.
Loathe it.
Detest it.
I still love reading thick volumes with large words,
I still love clattering across a keyboard, like a tap-dancer on crack...
but.
Analyzing literature makes me focus on the fact that the word starts with "anal" and I don't know why but somehow that just chaps my ass.
ha.
I am beginning to find clarity again, to find my words--
they were stashed away under a heap of grey crap that takes up about 90% of my skull...
It's easy to write when one has a muse.

I have a busy week ahead...
Wednesday is going to be a great day:
8:30 gym with Donna,
10:30 & 11:00 interviews with director and actor,
immediately jump into writing the article which is due around 3.
Then head down to the U.C. (Utah County...trust me, it deserves a smart-ass nickname)
for my book group!
I'll be seeing some good friends that I haven't seen in at least a month.
They have been dearly missed.

So there ya have it.
I love it when I get to talk to whoever's still out there.

And that's hubby's bedhead.

2007-01-08T15:39:00.001-07:00

And that's hubby's bedhead.

I have a theory, of the conspiriatorial nature:

2007-01-08T07:41:00.000-07:00

I think Blogger wanted to cut down on the amount of data storage space,
so they made logging in a pain in the ass.
Therefore, my lack of posting is blamed soundly on Them.
I love it when I can figure out how to shirk responsibility!!

Kids have had the pukes, consecutively, since Friday.
Kid #2 is insisting that he is still sick so that he can stay home from school, even though he's not.
Dad is now sick, Mom is about to be sick.
SWEET.
Wanna come over and play?

Meanwhile, classes start tomorrow and I have no idea what I'm taking.
I need to secure interviews today and I hope I can do so between taking care of other sick folk and being sick.

It was a great weekend, though.
Great party at a friend's house on Saturday, great hike/talks with a friend(s) on Sunday.
Greatness abounds.
Great Danes bound.
Claire Danes astounds.
Eclairs are yummy...
WHAT? I'm on a diet.

Happy Monday to ya.

Someone crawled inside me and is fucking with the controls

2007-01-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

But in a good way.
I think.
Or, I should clarify: earlier today...eh...less "good" and more "severely destructive to important relationships", but whatever.
It's all about the present, right??
Just kidding.
It's just that I'm trying to figure out my schedule and I keep getting this warm little signal from my internal navigator that says maybe
juuust maybe
what I need is (for the record I am wincing as I prepare to type this, ready to ward off your vehement opposition)
a job.
Yup.
ME.
To go to work somewhere
with people!
To do...
something--
ANYTHING.
I think it might make me feel human again.
I will still plan on going to school, at least a couple of classes
so I can keep writing for the paper...
for, as much as I hate it, I love it.
I'll keep you posted.
This may just be a bit of full moon madness that will pass from my system like beer through a clean liver.
Heh.

In other news, I am slowly learning that romantic love is not the only pertinent kind of love, it is not the only legitimate kind of love.
I don't know what this means to you, but to me it is sort of like one of those obvious truths that you just never quite noticed before.

I've had some great workouts over the past couple of weeks.
This has had miraculous effects on me.
Tomorrow I see the chiropractor.
Yes, I'm a procrastinator/masturbator.
Hopefully he can fix my back.
As much fun as it is to have vaginal contractions every time I stretch my back...
eh.
I could do without the achiness.

Now that it's over...
I can safely say that I have just worked my way out of the deepest depression I've ever experienced.
Sweet.
That was fairly hellish, in case you're wondering...or hadn't noticed by my doomy-gloomy posts!
haha
And I'm just so fucking glad to be here, to be me, to be alive, to be
among the wildflowers...
In a boat out at sea
Tom Petty just snuck in there--there must be a wormhole between my Windows Media Player and blogger...

I will probably never figure my life out completely, but I love trying.

Oops....

2007-01-01T16:22:00.000-07:00

I have truly been sucked into this Warcraft thing...
I can't believe I haven't posted in so long!
I am now level 16, however, so I guess that explains where all the time has gone.
ACK!!
Help me!!

This has been a really fanastic week, though, truly.
Lots of good family time, lots of good times with friends--
and remarkably good progress with the diet, considering the time of year it is.
Who starts a diet the day after Christmas??
Retarded-ass people like me, that's who!

We had a ragin' party last night and even saw some fireworks from the backyard.
We had so much food and
so much alcohol
and so much poker and
so much fun!
...and did I mention it was a good time?
Yeah.
There was also a lot of unintentional nudity and there could have been a game where we took pictures of every woman's breast and had the men choose which belonged to who.
Oddly, mine was the only one they all recognized!
They couldn't even name their own wives' pictures!
I am a little disturbed as to how that was possible, but whatever.
There was also a point when I joined the all-male poker game at which I called someone a "cocksucker."
Whoever it was (I don't even remember) feigned shock, and then I said, "Hey, at least I didn't pull out the 'cunt'!"
...meaning, "at least I didn't CALL you a cunt"....
but, as you can tell, it took on a bit of a different meaning....
ACK.
Oh, I should mention it was a pajama party, so most of us were in pajamas.
None of us did the skank thing and wore lingere, in case you're wondering.
We're classy chicks.
We only take pictures of our boobs and ask everyone's husband to Name That Tit.
Gah.

The night before that we made an impomptu run to Park City (over the moutain) to pierce D's nose!
It was so much fun.
The best part was when three of the state's brightest stars tumbled through the door of a sleek little tattoo shop, filled to overflowing with the very men you would imagine in any random tattoo shop in America and giggled and sparkled our way through the whole process.
It was quite interesting.
D told me I look exotic but I think she needs to get out more.
We gave B lots of great advice about her precarious awesome-boyfriend situation and now know that we were able to steer her onto the correct path and avert a disaster.
Which is the best part of being a friend.
And then we came back to my place with yummmy take-out and watched "Little Miss Sunshine" with hubby.
Goood.
Times.

And now...
I am trying to finish wrapping my head around the upcoming semester.
I need to line up interviews for this week, for my first article of the semester, but it's not happening yet.
I can live with that.

I need to write some fiction.
I want to be dumped into some matrix in which the only choices for me are to healthy food that tastes delicious, to have sex with whoever I conjure from my own mind, and to read/write.
That's it, that's all I would be allowed to do.
No cleaning, no cooking, no meaningless crap to read, no one to talk to--oh...that would actually suck.
Well.
Whatever.
I have pointed my compass toward happiness and I think I'll continue following that path.
I have probably stagnated a bit in the personal growth department, but if I can hold on a little longer, I think I'll make it.

New Year's Eve marks the 9th anniversary of the consecration of my husband's and my relationship.
Ok, so it's the first time we "did it". wink wink.
We met the Tuesday before Christmas...I think the 22nd or something.
We saw each other 4 or 5 times over the next ten days.
I remember him coming in to the Denny's-style restaurant where I was working and ordering Eggs Benedict, then telling me that I was having a party.
His friend Zeke was one of my roommates, so he had told Zeke to have a party so he could see me again...
And then there was the party.
And I met a bunch of his friends, but I didn't remember most of them later.
And then it was NYE and we were at Derek's parents' house...in the hot tub he told me that he loved me, and in the guest room he made me scream.
Our friend Brian bought that house a couple of years ago.
That's their daughter's room now...she was born the same week we conceived the twinners.
Connected like a spider web, our lives are.
I thought we were so old--and not from a wisdom perspective, I mean I really felt like I had been out of high school for a LONG time.
I felt like life was slipping away and I was drowning and making the wrong decisions by mostly making no decisions.
And then there was this man--
who is 9 months younger than me and acts like a 12 year old half the time, but has always been a beacon.
He knew where he was going, and he knew how to get there.
I'm just glad he brought me along for the ride.

It's been a good year, in a lot of ways.
I got my first job as a writer,
I got my first job as a paid writer,
I went to Hawaii with my husband,
We went to Disney world with our kids,
I finished healing from the first broken heart I ever had by discovering the truth behind our ending,
I made it through losing a loved one and learned a lot in the process,
I watched joyfully as 2 of my dearest friends found the love of their respective lives,
I learned that wisdom really does come with age, and was honored to have useful advice for friends who sought it,
I discovered that I am loved very much by some pretty incredible people,
and...
I think that's it.
Yup.
It was a good year.

In this new year I will go home to Maine and get back in touch with my roots,
I will make some bold moves in my writing career,
I will make some wise investment choices,
I will get back into the gym habit,
I will focus my thoughts outward instead of constantly looking in,
I will meditate daily.

Happy New Year, kids.

It is the dawning of the age of...

2006-12-28T16:33:00.000-07:00

not so much "Aquarius" as...
Me.
It truly is, and I just thought you should know.

I'm trying to plan out my upcoming semester...
I have registered for classes, but I'm having serious doubts.
I hated the degree of stress that permeated my life last semester,
but I have hope that it won't be as bad this time, even with the same class load.
Which was, for the record, a pathetic 9 credits.
Not even full time!
Bah.
Well...the school stuff was the least of my worries, so I think I'll be fine.
As I look back over the past few months, I see that Life was fragile and tattered around me.
I have never been in such a dark place and I hope it is a long time before I approach that again--if ever.
I have regained my composure and I am finally at a place where the anguish over Things Out of My Control has subsisded; I can now think of bro-in-law with fondness not tarnished by despair.
AND.
Mr. Lucky Star is HERE--
and let me just tell you: it feels fantastic to have a husband when you're married!
(I added the qualifier because I don't mean to insinuate that the only way to be happy is to have a husband...it's just that when you're married, but have no husband it is a particularly lonely and wind-blown landscape of Life....)

I have truly been sucked into the World of Warcraft...
I am a level 11 hunter now, and I am working on training animals.
I love killing stuff.
hee...
I think maybe I'll have to start a "Former WoW Widdow Turned Addict" blog.
Or something.
Nah, it's actually easier to manage my time spent doing that than it is to manage my time spent blogging: I can sit down planning on only checking my email and end up spending hours reading blogs, but with WoW I know I am committing to a chunk of time when I sit down, so I always make sure to clear my schedule first.
...never fear, I'm sure this attitude will change soon and I'll be a blob of lard with carpel tunnel syndrome whose children are more feral than is healthy...
(yet another qualifier because, as we all know, a certain degree of ferality is encouraged!)

I am doing an Isagenix cleanse right now...
It's a 2 day fast, basically, and then 5 days of eating mostly shakes and then another 2 day fast.
It is designed to detoxify you and recharge you with all the nutrients and minerals that you haven't been getting.
A few of my friends have done it recently and they have simply RAVED about the results: they feel better, lose a few pounds, and have all sorts of positive side effects.
I am most firmly NOT a believer in miracle drugs of any kind, but when people who aren't trying to sell me anything insist that it's FRICKIN' AWESOME, I can't resist.
So.
I'll keep you posted.

Also, I had an epiphany last night while reading O magazine in the bathtub.
There was an article about weight-gain and something just clicked.
It was like a light switch went on inside my heart and electricity skittered through my whole body...
which is fairly dangerous in a BATHTUB, but somehow I survived.
Heh.
Anyway, the realization that I had was this: I have been missing something in my life since I quit being Mormon.
And it's not religion--
it's meditation!
I have thought about this off and on over the years since leaving "the church" and this time it finally hit me that a better fucking way to deal with my goddddddamn stress than EATING would be meditating!
Duh.
It would at least help me sort through my thoughts, and be lower in calories.
Heh.
I hate women who obsess over their weight as much as the next guy, so I offer my sincerest apologies for this, it's just that it's something I'm thinking about lately and I'm excited to have realized there may be a solution to my stupid-ass stress eating.
YAAAAAAAAAAY!!!
And I'm going to make workouts a priority again.
I love how I feel when I'm lifting weights on a regular basis, and cardio-ing.
(yes, that's a word)

Hot DAMN I'm glad nobody's reading this week!!!

Last night Becky (the non-blogger) and my hubby and I went to a new (to us) local bar for karaoke night.
It was a great little place with a very cool bartender and a lame-ass selection of songs.
We did The Doors' "People are Strange" first, and the dude had to restart it 4 or 5 times because he kept messing it up...that was NOT a great start to the song which turned out to be too low for Becky (who is the one who can sing).
Not too low for me, but as you may have picked up from that parenthetical notation, I CAN'T SING.
Oh well.
It was fun.
And when we got home the babysitters had cleaned up my somewhat trashed house!
The kids were already in bed when they got here, and I am impressed that they earned their money a different way.
They rock.
We will need to go back for another karaoke night soon.
Maybe next time we'll bring our own music.

Hope you're all enjoying this lazy week!

Happy Ho-Ho-Ho to you!

2006-12-25T21:09:00.000-07:00

No, I didn't choose that line for its questionable "ho" reference.
I chose it because I FUCKING LOVE Harry Connick Jr's X-mas CD and that song always cracked me up.
...because of its questionalbe "ho" reference...
eh, don't act surprised.
It's ME, after all!!!

Santa graciously brought my nudist children bathrobes.
It was rather unsettling to see them dressed so.
I had a line in my head about it...
a very Lisa line.
What was it?
Of course I can't remember now.
Something about jarring and disguised beauty?
eh, dunno.

To whoever tried to get my password to this blog last night:
"What the fuck??"
And:
"Get a life!"
And other assorted exclamations.

Something happened yesterday.
It was the one year anniversary of my husband's passionate and turbulent affair with World of Warcraft, and somehow...
I managed to agree to play it with him!
My worst fears were realized as my excitement grew and my interest in life outside the Realm dissolved like sugar in water.
Aw, fuck.
Now I have no way to nag him about his obsession because I UNDERSTAND it!!!!
This really blows.
I can't even begin to tell you how awful it is to have such a complete understanding for the joy and attachment that is World of Warcraft.
I named my first character "LuckyStarz" (the one without the 'z' was taken),
but then we moved my account to a different server and I didn't want to delete that one and reuse it, so I went with Lisana.
It is a tribute to Chris, who named the Queen of the Nightwalkers in the first Amorlia book Lisana.
He is a most gifted writer, and he named characters after all of his faithful readers, but I was a little partial to that one.
My character in WoW is a Night Elf, so I thought it was appropriate.
I'm a hunter.
And I'm a level 5.
Bring it on.
Heh.

Ok, enough of THIS crap.
I have quests to go on, dammit!!!

I got slapped with a meme...

2006-12-21T21:44:00.000-07:00

So here it is:

1. Three things that scare me:
-snakes
-falling
-not being in love

2. Three people who make me laugh:
-Becky
-Julie O.
-K

3. Three things I love:
-making desserts
-surprising people with the depth of my kindness
-staying up late and sleeping late

4. Three things I hate:
-getting out of bed, no matter what the time
-inconsiderate people
-not listening to my gut

5. Three things I don't understand:
-racism
-the unfailing attraction that 99% of men feel toward bimbos/porn stars/material girls
-death as an absolute

6. Three things on my desk:
-giant stack of textbooks/notebooks
-hand lotion
-a dictionary and a thesaurus (put there very recently because I suddenly lost my internal ones)

7. Three things I'm doing right now:
-repeatedly stretching my neck and back to relieve pressure
-singing the words to Pearl Jam's "No Way" over and over in my head
-wishing for miracles...

8. Three things I want to do before I die:
-publish a book
-sky dive
-have a daughter

9. Three things I can do:
-make a perfect pie crust
-figure out how to make just about anything
-love passionately

10. Three things I can't do:
-let go of people I love
-be on time
-be bothered to "do" my hair/makeup

11. Three things you should listen to:
-the sound of a sleeping baby
-the sound of breaking waves
-the sound of inevitability...

12. Three things you should never listen to:
-insults
-the ticking of a clock...
-??

13. Three things I'd like to learn:
-Italian
-scuba diving
-how to garden

14. Three favorite foods:
-all things dessert
-seafood
-french fries!!!

15. Three beverages I drink regularly:
-water
-milk
-diet coke(not regularly)

16. Three shows I watched as a kid
-Days of Our Lives (that tells you a LOT, eh??)
-Little House on the Prairie!!
-Knight Rider

Ok, so there ya have it.
I am allergic to memes, so I will not be passing this on.
Do it if you want to, though!
That was actually a lot of fun...

Happy December 22nd!!!

Is it Christmas yet??

2006-12-21T09:10:00.000-07:00

I hope you're all having a great time preparing for festivities and participating in them, etc.
It is a happy time of year, but it can be a very stresful and difficult time of year, too.

Did I mention that I found my CDs?
...yes, that's sheepishness you detect...
I was reaching around under my driver's seat, looking for something else when--
Voila!
and
Eureka!
There they were, stifling their laughter as they silently mocked me.
I can't believe I didn't even check under the seat!!
I am so glad to have them back.
It was still weird to know someone was in my car, but at least nothing was lost.
Except (maybe) my cheap sunglasses.
They're probably under the seat, too.

So I have this strange pain in my lower back...
and when it is aggravated it causes my...pussy to contract.
Sorry for the bluntness, but that's the best way to describe it.
It's not entirely unpleasant, for as you know, an orgasm consists of contractions, but it is not turning me on.
I asked hubby to fuck the strangeness away, but it didn't work.
It doesn't hurt, or anything, it's just weird.
So I looked up the symptoms on WebMD and it wouldn't even say what was wrong just flashed a big "seek immediate medical attention" warning...
What's strange is that my horoscope for last week said that if I had pain in my back or abdomen to seek medical attention.
Hm....
I am tougher than all that jazz, though, so I don't think I will.
However, I will try to go see my dear massage therapist friend later today and see if she can put me back together, like a Humpty who's missing his Dumpty.
Or something.
I hope I don't end up paralyzed.
At least then I would HAVE to write more!!
Ack.
That wasn't funny at all.

But do you want to know what IS funny?
I'll tell you:
Q: Why don't Republicans need bookmarks?
A: Because they just bend the page over....

Ok, on that note, I'm off to finish up some X-mas errand stuff:
* return a gift I got for hubby that is way too big
* shop for the ingredients for 2 giant batches of clam chowder
* get candy for decorating gingerbread houses on Saturday
* buy a new coat for Max, who lost his last week and has been wearing a fleece and a sweatshirt in below-freezing weather...eek...and no, that's not christmas related, just annoying...and I'm sick of feeling like a slacker-ass, white trash mother for sending him out dressed like that!!
* buy the last 3 gifts on my list

I did, however, finish wrapping all the kids' presents last night while watching
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE!!!!
Oh, the joy!
If you haven't seen it, it is now on DVD, so please rent it and watch it and love it.
I got Talladega Nights for hubby and I am dying to open it and watch the "Saying Grace" scene over and over
and over
and
over.
I think it is very holiday appropriate...

Speaking of the Jeebus...
I'm sort of thinking I need to find a nice, low-expectations church to take my kids to.
I've heard the Universal Church is super groovy and allows for all sorts of beliefs to comingle, but I'll have to look into it.
I just...I sort of am realizing that I don't have the tools to teach my kids certain things without making it Christian based and I don't really know what to do about that.
My religious knowledge was a huge part of my childhood, and while I don't want to make them scared of such a broad range of "sins" as I was, I would like them to know that there's a god and a heaven and that if you lie/cheat/steal then you're going to burn in the fiery flames of hellish torment for all of eternity!!!!
ahem...
Well...you get the idea.
"Time Out" just isn't a scary enough prospect for some things.
I am SO not above using jesus to scare Oliver out of his hitting phase.
Speaking of hell...

Ok, sorry for the wacked out post.
I will try to do some crack before I write again.
And I'll try not to permanently damage either my back or my sweet, beloved girl-parts.
heh.

Happy Winter Solstice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday, Bored Housewife Blog!!!!

2006-12-19T09:54:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's right:
today is the 4th anniversary of the day that my original blog started!
I am homesick for that dear little lump of cyberspace right now...
You should go check it out.
I posted there...and there might be a few Braless Tuesday Favorites posted as well...

Bored Housewife Birthday Bash

Have a happy day.
Thanks for hanging out with me, here in the ether...