Saturday, February 28, 2009

News Update! The world is still stupid...

A long time ago I used to have this daily ritual, after I ate breakfast I would take a steaming cup of joe over to my computer and start reading the news.

I've never been much of a fan of tv news - anchormen/women normally piss me off because they make faces at certain points in stories or I don't like their voices, especially local news.  Maybe it's because they all think they're going to be casted in the next Scorsese picture, or maybe it's because I feel "Family Guy" sums up what the local anchors are like - in my mind anyway. Regardless, I would rather read my news.  New York Time, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal and I'll check CNN too.  (and on Wednesdays I read the Onion.  Cuz it's funny.)

But I fell out of this sometime last year.  Near the end of my pregnancy, you know, when I was giving away all of my NON pregnancy clothing to Good Will (80 degrees and 8.5 months pregnant = not happy lady) I also quit the Y, and did other assorted things that I won't get into...  one of those would be I stop reading the news.

It started with the Journal.  It's an expensive paper, AND they charge to use their website.  SEE YA!  And then I just stopped all together...

(War?  What war?  We're at war?  Does anyone have a ding dong?)

But at one point I did know what was going on in this world.  I would start with world news and work my way back to the U.S., then local, move over to business, arts and movies, science and then sports.  (I have my comics emailed to me - I'm a big fan of Non Sequitur and Get Fuzzy.)
I mostly read the sports section to catch up on scores - for the rest of my sporting news I would watch ESPN when I ran at the Y.

Then I gave it all up.  SEE YA!  Yup.  Not smart at all.  (you know, kinda like after your pregnant and you do get back to your pre-pregnancy size and you have nothing to wear because YOU GAVE YOUR CLOTHING AWAY TO GOOD WILL...)

As time moves on and life settles around me I've started trying to get back into that routine.  No, I'm not up nearly as early as I used to be, so I'm normally a dollar short and a day late.  But if something major happens the husband will text me or someone will tell me (granted the husband normally only texts me if it's Brown's related - SEE YA KELLEN, I've heard they have a lot of "staph" in Miami.  Be careful!  And yes, the 4.5 hours drive IS worth it)
Anyway, I'm just trying to get caught up.  6 months is a long time to be out of the loop.

So I go to CNN.  Click on World - over to ASIA (the have the most people and the biggest guns - its nice when they like us... do they?  I don't know.)  No, I don't know.  I STILL don't know because this headline caught my eye, 

"Topless Coffee Shop a Hit in Small Maine Town"

Population 4,500.

"Hey Al.  How was yer latest catch?  Was it a good haul?"
"Oh hey Bob.  Not good, not good at all - but I see yer daughter got herself a new job slinging coffee over at the mall.  Gee... I remember when you and Sally had her... She's 18 now...?  Right...?  18?  And I'm thinking a full C."

No.  Not awkward at all.

"An 80 year old woman told me she'd like to see me in spandex." Yeah, old women can be pervy too little boy.  Please don't forget to wax that spot on your shoulders before you come in tomorrow - and they're called 'trimmers' - you're not Robin William's son.  We don't need people thinking that there's something nesting in your chest. 

The owner said they didn't hire "10's"... they hired everyone from skinny to "big boned."  
Cuz you had a choice, right?  
Not because a chick that's willing to walk around topless who is considered a "10" is going to want to sling coffee, in a mall, over say doing the SAMEthing at one of those places that men go too with lots money burning in their pockets... what are they called?  DAMN IT!  I can see it!  There are poles and drunk guys that tip you more than 50 cents for a small mochachino...?  


"Mom!  One day... when I grow up... I want to move to one of the coldest states in the WHOLE COUNTRY and take off my top in a mall so Grampa Joe down the street can stare at my boobies!"  

Oh Donald Crabtree - you DO know what people want!  Here's hoping you had all of your employees sign legal release forms saying that when some jackass kid in the mall thinks its funny to knock a freshly brewed cup of java onto Sally Lou's taa's, you are not liable.  3rd degree burns are S-E-X-Y!  MMM!  MMM!  MMM!  (drooling just thinking about it!)


I love the news!

Oh, and in case you were wondering - most of the employees they interviewed all said the same thing, "I'm just happy I have a job."  GO ECONOMY!  GO!

Yes.  It's moments like these that I realize this is truly a beautiful country.

God bless the U.S.A. and sleazy men willing to take advantage of young people in the time of an economic drought, even if those young people aren't tens.  I mean, how many 80 year old women can get the homes bus to drop them off at the only male revue in town?  Not as many as can get drop at the mall!

"Martha, yer grandson just makes me wish I could still get my knees up by the sides of my head again!  If I were 60 years younger I'd take him over my knee...  Maybe I should take him over my knee anyway and show'em what I can do without these dentures..."

And yes!  I WOULD like whipped cream on that!

Now, off to news from Europe.
(Please say bottomless Dentist office!  PLEASE SAY BOTTOMLESS DENTIST OFFICE!)

Sweet dreams!  And good night... ;)

Friday, February 27, 2009

Another nerdy friday night with BSG, comic books and fantasizing about... ;)

In the middle of the night, when the moon is full, the light streaks through the curtains into my living room.  I find myself studying it, staring at it, like at some point its going to answer me - let me in on some secret that I've been dying to know.

I find I do the same with car head lights... watching the shadows dance across the walls and ceiling as I sit in the dark doing nothing but watching.

I talk about how I think too much.
That is not a lie.  I do.
I never thought it was weird until I got older and people started reacting to my overly worked out thought process.  Same thing with dreams.  I didn't realize that some people didn't dream how I did.

I'm sure it means something.
Well, I'm sure it means something to someone out there at some college attempting to get their PhD in psychology.
But to me... they're just dreams.

I over analyze so many things in my life that I tend to leave my dreams alone.  I don't think that they are prophetic, not even a little bit.  And I think you can control your dreams as much as you want to.  I do it all the time... except sex dreams - I can't seem to conjure sex dreams at will.  I wish I could... now THAT would be fun.
But in the end I think that they are just dreams, they are just things we want to happen, anxieties that we need to let out.

But sometimes I don't think at all.  I just sit there and do nothing.
It makes me long for the days when I thought smoking in doors was ok, because I'm sure I'd just sit there and smoke and stare and veg...

From 10pm (sometimes 9pm) till I go to sleep is my time and I love it.  I love every second of it.  Sometimes I sit on here for hours, or I watch a movie, write, draw, bake, make sweet, sweet love to myself... sneak outside for a cigarette... workout... 
Its a bizarre freedom that was thrusted upon me because of Xan sleeping more and more.  Some nights I too, around 2, go to sleep... but I hate sleeping on the couch so nights like tonight - I won't.  

It's nice every once in a while not thinking at all.

Tonight's plan is to get caught up on over a years worth of comic books.  It's a tall order but there are only 5 titles so I think I'll get through most of them.  
Fast reader.
Coraline?  Read it in an hour and a half.  161 pages.
I would love the superpowers of invisibility and teleportation - but no - I can read fast. 
It's probably for the best... If I could turn myself invisible and teleport anywhere I wanted too I'd just get myself into lots and lots of trouble... :)

You know what I was thinking about earlier?
Crows feet
I think that they are very sexy
A man with crows feet by his eyes and laugh lines by his mouth - those are two sexy, sexy things...

But tonight I'm thinking about nothing
Well, nothing related to me

and the nerdfest will begin - NOW!

yes - another nerdy Friday night on my couch 

~good night

For all of you that read comic books and the rest of you that should...

Orson Scott Card's Ender's Shadow - BATTLE SCHOOL

You are to get into your cars and go to a comic shop or go here and pick it up.  

And if you're one of those people who think comics are for kids.  Try reading some Alan Moore (V for Vendetta or The Watchmen), Frank Miller (The Dark Knight Returns, Ronin), Brian Michael Bendis (Torso, Jinx), Will Eisner (The Spirit), Neil Gaiman (Sandman), Garth Ennis (Preacher), Jim Lee (Batman: Hush), Harvey Pekar (American Splendor) 

And don't be so jaded against comic books

I have me some reading to do!

~trust me... I'll be back later.


Thursday, February 26, 2009

I was going to quote Shakespeare here, but I won't

In reality I like to think I'm a pretty laid back kinda gal.
I mean, it really takes a lot to piss me off - but in the same fashion, if you are one of those that get under my skin, chances are I'll do my best to make your life miserable.  
I don't care how that sounds, it's true.

Not so much these days in my life, but 10 years ago - burn me and I'd burn you and then burn you again just for making waste the effort on burning you in the first place. 

But like I said, not so much these days.  I just don't care - which makes me even more laid back...
As you might be able to tell (seeing that you are reading this tell all of my day to day life) I don't hide much.  I don't have much to hide.  So chances are if you ask me a question I'll answer it - regardless of the subject.  (and then I'll sit around and obsess about the question and later I'll blog about it here.)

Anyway, one of the topics that keeps arising in my life as of late has to do with "friends"

(You make a strategic move to get someone out of your life 3 years ago and then you never live it down.  I could tell you my reasons, but alas, that is one of the things I won't elaborate on.  Sometimes personal reasons don't translate into the world of explanation and they just seem petty and juvenile.  We are all petty and juvenile from time to time, regardless if we can see it or not.  

But I stand by that decision.)

This low lull I've been cradled in for the past months has changed me...

I can't say if this is a good thing or if it's a bad thing - right now its just a new thing.  
I'm still me.
There is no one else I can be, or would want to be for that matter.  I like me for the most part.  I know that I'm not the most conventional person out there.  I know I'm eccentric (to put it mildly) but I still like me.  I figure there are enough "conventional" people out there and while they thrive in areas I don't, I tend to die in areas that they thrive.

Most people get this about me.
Some just think I'm weird.
Some think the fact that I do this my "tell all" - daily - is sure madness.  A sign that I'm... I don't know... desperate for something.  

We're all desperate for something.  I say do what comes natural.

Things like that make this change even easier.
Between all the change in my life and this extremely long winter I've found that I like this... I like sitting in this dark room typing away about the millions of different things I think about daily on here.  I like it a lot more than sitting in a loud bar and being dragged into something I don't want to be apart of because "I'll listen"

I think I have a stronger connection with myself now than I've had in maybe 13 years.  One too many screwed up relationships, bad friendships, deaths, disasters and on and on... it's a slippery slope and before you know it you're 13 years down the road and you think you know you but you realize you don't know jack... 

There is a down side - but isn't there always?  I find, now a days, that when I hear "So and so was just talking about you" I cringe.  I just assume the worse.  I shouldn't but I do.
The hypersensitive side of me is still too hypersensitive.

Did you know that one out of four people hate you just because they meet you - someone did a study, that was the result.  So I know out of the 6.7 billion people on this planet 300+ million in the US alone - that someone probably doesn't like me, but it bothers me to think people think ill of me.  More than I care to admit.  It's even worse when I think that someone I care about thinks ill of me.

Yes, yes... overly paranoid.  I know I am.  "Assume the best!  Prepare for the worse!"
Yes, I walk around with a roll of duct tape, plastic bags, a gas mask and rations just to be on the safe side... no I don't.

So I just try to be laid back
And I try to keep myself busy so my obsessive paranoid side doesn't come out
And I try to think that the people I care about care about me too
And I try not to think at all, which never works

because the moment I think I'm in the clear
something churns it all up again

Yes, I'm at that point of "Ground Hogs Day" when Bill Murray tries to kill himself...

Huh... the half way marker

I think I'm going to just shut up now.  And tomorrow, I promise to talk about something fun like my other obsessions - sex or food or both...

I need a harem and a cook...

and I'm still not going to bother you with that Shakespeare quote
~good night

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Darlin', darlin', darlin'...

I love pet names, I do, I do, I do.
But I try not to use them often.  I find they offend some, I even had one person tell me to stop it all together... I can respect that, but in my head they are still there.

Sweet heart
Sweet pea
Doll face

and on and on
The more I like you, the more pet names I have for you.  They're never meant to be condescending not in the least, they're meant to be endearing.  
And honestly, what else would you expect from someone who is obsessed with words?  I love to use words to riddle and ride and dance around things and people.  I love when they have a certain texture and sound or even how they feel rolling around in my mouth.  Dancing on my tongue.
So yes, sweet heart, I love them to death.

I could even go as far as to say I find them sexy.
Words I mean.
I think being able to weave a web around someone, caress them, touch them without ever doing more than saying a few things is a glorious lurid thing.

Like a winter wind - how it cuts through you.  
So perfectly that you can feel it right down to your bones.

But like I said, people find it condescending.

I should come with a warning:
  Likes to cuss, drink, spread around a little sarcasm and use pet names for all.
  Hand wash in hot water - tumble dry... 
  Handle with care

It would probably save the world a whole lot of time.  But then again, we should all come with warning labels that would save us ALL a bunch of time.  Just walk up to the person, look at their little warning tag and then go - "Well, it would have been nice getting to know you, but I'm not in the mood for clingy just now."

Ah... but since we've been over how labeling isn't a good thing...  plus, I like to think there is more to people than the one thing they did that burned me.  (this would explain being burned multiple times by the same person... I'm a champ!)  But in a way that's is what those pet names I use are - at least to me.  They are a summation of how I see you in my minds eye.  My very own definitions of the people I care about...  So, sweet heart, please don't take it to heart, at least not in a bad way.  I'm only saying it cuz I care so much. ;)

Today I fell back into my lovely world of Rancid again.  It's the weather, warming up outside - love it!  I drove around for a little bit after work listening to the Rancid NOFX split, smoking cigarettes and singing at the top of my lungs.

Sounds and smells...  so many memories attached to them.  So many things in general... 

The right smell... and my heart will be pounding in my chest.

Music, the perfect scent, and the right words - pinch me

So I listened to the disk a couple times and landed on "Radio" (originally on a 7" EP of theirs and then on Let's Go) but in this case sung by NOFX in a very fine reggae vibe.

...Never fell in love until I fell in love with you, never knew what a good times was until I had a good time with you, when you wanna get the feeling and you wanna get it right than the musics got to be loud, for when the music hits, I feel no pain at all...

I once had breakfast on the corner of 52nd and Broadway... (it wasn't good)
Rancid is home for me...
...just like words
...just like pet names

So, doll face, I'll leave you with this... 

" it is!  Here I am!  Turn it up fucking loud!
Radio. Radio. Radio.
When I got the music, I got a place to go..."

Because it's so very, very true

Sweet dreams luv
~good night~

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Lippy Bitch

I find it funny when people call me spunky.  I once had a person tell me I'm a free spirit.  This made me laugh, because I do not - in any way shape or form - see myself in that light.  Spunky I can deal with, but I'm too uptight to hold the title of  "free spirited."

Mostly, I feel like I'm just one of those people who didn't show up the day they were handing out that inner voice so many have, love and cherish.  This really becomes evident when I've had a few...

Take Saturday for example.

Before my demise and ending placement in bed all safe and warm by 11:30 pm on a Saturday night, I was smoking outside and this older man asked me where my coat was.
"I left it in the limo" I told him - yes.  It was in the 30's and I was wearing a tank top - bite me
"You know if you stay out here much longer we'll get to watch your headlight turn on!" He started laughing and my response was to walk up to him and and tell the young women with him (he had to be in his 50's if not 60') how lucky they were to be with him and I'm sure I said a few more choice things before I smiled and went "Oh!  Gotta go back inside!"

One of my guy friends asked if randoms try to take me home - the answer is no.  Most guys don't know what to do with me.  For I am a lippy bitch and am more than willing to give them a hard time and the last thing some guy wants is some lippy chick getting in their face and making others laugh at them.  

Evidently it's embarrassing.  

See, not a free spirit - I'm just freaking loud and don't much care for old men mocking my coatless ass in 30 degree temps.  
When I think back to moments like that I realize I should probably keep my mouth shut, but whatever.  I say don't dish it out if you can't take it.

That lippy, bitchness is what keeps me going most days.  Days when I start to fall back into the routine of my life that I don't like.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mean my son or anything like that I mean what I'm doing and very much NOT doing with my life.  
I look around and watch people try to sell me the freaking Brooklyn Bridge for a buck fifty and just smile and stand up and walk away.  But for some reason, if the voice it mine, I write myself the damn check every time. (sadly making money off yourself never really works)

So here I am.  
Loud little old me.
Keeping the spunk alive as much as I can!
I have to say, I'm happy with having my gut back.  It took a while, but it's there and pretty much on point.  My 90% accuracy rating is back in check so now I just get even madder at myself for NOT doing things!  

So this is me doing this.
This is me telling myself I have no other choice.  You don't need to be a freaking clairvoyant to see what my life will become if I don't get off my butt soon.  I don't need to be psychic to know that I'm going to be miserable if I just settle for nothing when I could bust my ass to get the somethings I desire.  

Thank you for being part of my nightly pep talk to myself!  HA!
I think I'm going to go write the kids story really quick and then finish Coraline - its only like 161 pages and personally I think sleep is for pussies... 
Plus if I stay on here I'm just going to go on a rant about sex... cuz I've got sex on the brain tonight... 

Here's a funny story about how my sick mind gets overly obsessed with sex - just a quick little one - I was in an obsessive mood one night and I was driving and - well the porn in my head was running very, very freely... so freely I turned into oncoming traffic.  It took me a few second to realize it too before I swore and turn then hell around.
Lucky for me it was really late and there were no cars on the one way street that I was driving the wrong way on - but yes... that is why I won't get into it now, because then that's the only thing I'll think about all night.

And people think driving with cell phones is not safe!  One time I jumped a curb... nearly hit a telephone pole.

Lippy, bitchy and with sex on the brain means an unproductive night
Well, in a literary sense at least.  

too late... 

Monday, February 23, 2009

perversions on a retrospect of life - in B flat

I'm a pretty resilient person. I like to think I can bounce back from things pretty easily... I mean, after 33 years of life there is baggage, how could there not be? But most days I'm okay, and most times when I look back things that I feel were "bad" at the time really were no more than a blip on the radar of my life.

Every now and then I do get caught on something. Like a sweater on a nail or an over exaggerated OCD moment - or even better - like a bad studder. You can see past it, but you can't speak past it. The same word is repeated over and over and over again.

I hate that.
I become a person I don't like.
I hate that even more.

So I turn away. Look for the "silver lining" or the "open window." I pull out every cliched line on the planet and introduce it into my life -
"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen."
"Never take life too seriously. No one gets out alive."

Then there's always the proverbial
"If you love something set it free..." or "Thank god for unanswered prayer..." or whatever another one is...

I turn into a self help book and just wait for my phone to ring so I can be presented on the next Dr. Phil show. (another one of my many pet peeves... I dislike Dr. Phil just as I dislike Oprah... anyway) So I turn myself into some self help crap, and then I find myself annoying myself...

I think I began warring with myself many years before I began doing anything else in my life. Misconstruing the need to better myself, straying into a perverse section of my psyche as I slowly became neurotic and hyper sensitive. And when I get "stuck on a nail" I become so self aware of the thoughts that when people DON'T see me like that I find it confusing - but at the same time I find it wonderful - because it's nice to have proof that the screwed up thoughts I have are just mine. 
I really don't like the idea of other being able to read too closely into what I'm thinking (and here I am tell the world about it! HA!) but I don't. I like the choice to be able to let people see what I want them to. My very own Mr. Dark, entertaining the ideas in my head and giving me the illusions I need to suffice and move forward until, again, I can look back and say... "huh... what was I getting so worked up about? Just another blip on the radar..."

Just another moment in life.

I'm overly tired today, which is causing me to stray into this psycho babbling dorkfest which is overly esoteric and about nothing in general.  I know, I know... I keep coming back here... and I don't know why either.  I'm starting to think that it's just a bad habit I formed when this late night schedule became my general life.  That coupled with the fact that there is nothing on TV.

But then I think, for a moment - just a moment - that I'm not alone in this psycho babble.  That I'm just splaying the words across this luminous screen and making someone say - "Yeah, me too."

How can I be resilient all of the time?  I suppose no one is.
I just wish this metamorphosis was complete so that I could get on my merry way instead of dealing with the ebb and flow of nothings and uncertainty.   
The words play like a player piano over and over in my head - each note specific and perfect and repetitive - retrospection on things that should have been loss in the time passed but still play like an eerie tune in the back halls of my mind.  They've become a frightening tune that allows me to know that Freddy or Jason are lurking just around the bend and even though I know I should use the front door, I find myself opening the basement door to check the boiler room - one... last... time...

So now it's Monday night and nearly 11pm.  I'm sure Bourdain is on waiting to taunt me into another overly explicit blog about the foodie I love and hate on the Travel Channel.  Just as I'm sure that my blog from yesterday is haunting me seeing that Oh Darling has been stuck in my head for most of today.  But that's 1969 Beatles - not 1964...

And that would be your song for tonight...
Oh Darling - written by Paul McCartney and released on Abby Road... was Paul dead?  Is that why he's barefoot?  (and yes, I'm sure Lennon was listed as a co-contributor to the writing of said song - it was 1969 - and it was their show.)

...Oh Darling, please believe me, I'll never do you no harm
Believe me when I tell you, I'll never do you no harm...

A blues-esk song from someone who was known for his pop tributes... I have to admit, I've liked Oh Darling since I was about 18 years old.  My sister was obsessed with the Beatles and she would pop in cassette after cassette whenever we drove anywhere.  She is also the reason I've been to Penny Lane and Abby Road.

I think I'm going to go get lost in the lyrics for a bit... but I'm sure I'll slip back over to the words of Killing me Softly again... that's where I'm at tonight.  
Slow movements and sultry tunes...

Swaying alone in my living room at 3am when the rest of the world is fast asleep, musics surrounding me as I let the perversions do what they must.

But for now... 

When you told me
You didn't need me any more... you know I nearly broken down and cried
When you told me
You didn't need me any more... you know I nearly broken down and cried...
Oh Darling, please believe me
I'll never let you down
Believe me when I tell you
I'll never do you no harm...

~good night

Sunday, February 22, 2009

5 beers, one martini and 2 shots

So let me just give you a quick run down of the last 48 hours of my life...

Yesterday was the celebration of being single... meaning a couple of my friends are gettin' hitched in April and yesterday was their bachelor and bachelorette parties.

I was told the bachelor party was a good time.  Pizza, beer, wings and strippers.
Oh the way to a man's heart!

As for us lowly women we did the drink and dance thing.  Make the "bride-to-be" wear a veil, dance on bars, and on and on.  I hear that it was an interesting time... you see, by 11:30 I was tucked snugly in my bed.  Oh the brides sister and friend scooped me up and ran me home after I drank past my limit and well... let's just say the "demon" were expelled from my stomach and into a trash can... 

Seems I should just stick with coffee.
Oh, back in the day when I could kill 8 beers and who knows how many shots!  Yes.  Those days are officially over.  Mother of god... how they are SO OVER.

Thank the lord!  (promise not to recap at the wedding!)

I have to say, I actually wasn't embarrassed, which I normally am when I do something that... um... fun?  But I was fine and it worked out, for me that is.  Seems the story on the street is that one of the gals at the party hooked up with some fella and didn't turn up for 6+ hours, thus inducing a panic of sorts and ending in the brides sister "taking care" of the situation... 

Let's just say my bruises are nothing
Oh yeah!  My right arm has a hand mark on it!  Yup!  I'm thinking someone grabbed me as I fell into them... 
And my abs hurt


Moving on!  I finally watched Walk Hard - there were some funny one liners and the Beatles scene was hilarious (yes, I like something about the Beatles!  One damn drunk night I admitted that I don't think the Beatles are "Jesus Christ" of music and have never lived it down.  I would explain what I meant, but the point is mute.  The damage has been done and I'm sure, until I breath my last breath I'll hear about it.  "Hey!  You remember that night when we drank till 6am and you told us that you didn't like the Beatles... you broke our hearts that day..."  Sure I did.  If it wasn't that you'd find another reason to razz my butt!  And we both know it!)  ANYWAY!  I also thought the Bob Dylan scene was funny.  And who knew Pam was so freaking hot?
As for a comedy it was pretty good - I mean, it wasn't SuperBad, but it was better than most of the stuff that's out there!  And seeing that I normally tend to swing towards comedies like A Fish Called Wanda that are a bit drier in humor, that is a lot coming from this overly jaded 30-something woman... Plus, the cast was awesome!  I'm pretty sure everyone from 30 Rock, SNL and the Office appeared at one point of another.

"But I can't make you a house made of candy!  It would melt!"

And Paul Rudd... oh, who am I kidding.  I love you Paul Rudd.  Please come here and make out with me already!  Yummy, delicious, articulate, intelligent Paul Rudd... 

Well, I'm off!
But before I go, what did we learn today?
-That carrots and ritz crackers are really NOT enough to eat before you decided to go boozin'
-That if you meet someone, you should tell the people you're with that you're leaving because if you don't... bruises
-That Pizza and Dr. Pepper really are the cure for most hangovers
-And that Paul Rudd is hot and funny - which makes him hotter (just like Jenna Fischer)
-And you should never tell your friends, when you're drunk, that you think ill of one of the *cough* greatest *cough* bands around aren't that great in your eyes...  
But once again - 1964 - 
The Rolling Stone - "Time is on My Side"
The Who "Can't Explain"
The Bealtes... "I wanna hold your hand" 

Look!  Another night of expelling demons!  

I'm going to go think about Mr Rudd for a while
Funny, smart and sexy

I just want to put him in my pocket and carry him around with me... 


Oh.  Sorry.  GOOD NIGHT!

Friday, February 20, 2009

Rocking out like its 2003...

Dream a little dream is a song from my past.  I mentioned it last night because sometimes it does get stuck in my head.  I am a huge fan of Mr. Louis Armstrong, but my favorite song of his is actually La Vie En Rose.  That song melts my heart.

A million years ago when I managed a nature store (yes, educational things, rocks and such) we were allowed to listen to certain thing, lapping water on a brook, Enya, Sade and as time went on Louis Armstrongs Greatest hits.  

Enter La Vie En Rose.

Dream A Little Dream came from that time too.  A woman, or maybe a girl - we were very young - used to sing that song all the time.  Granted, she was familiar with the Mama Cass version, but still - the songs integrity is intact with both musicians.  

Later we were allowed to listen to things by Puto Mayo - which is "world music".  I remember many a day singing along to Waltzing Matilda... in Swahili... funny enough I could sing the whole song.  Not so much any more... 
Then they introduced Motown's Greatest Hits, which was wonderful and finally many of those "Century" greatest hits albums... You know the ones.  They cost about ten buck and they are bordered in Silver.

The Mama's and the Papa's (whom my husband HATES) was one that my staff and I listened to all the time.  We got to the point that we could sing the songs, in harmony, as we cleaned and shelved.  It was funny because people would comment, "You guys sound really good!"
"Thank you ma'am!  After 40 hours of singing the SAME SONGS over and over... " how could we not?

That is also where I met my husband.
That woman, or girl, was friends with him.  He needed extra money - I needed a stock boy.  It was 2000 - eons ago.  I barely saw him.
He worked nights and I didn't.
We met once or twice, because I was his boss - paperwork.  And later because we are both writers...

So a very long story short, he went through a break up - I went through a divorce and we started dating.... 

My love of music and this new sudden change in my life made me want, or even need, new things.  So after dating for nearly a year I admitted to him, one thing I wish I had always done was start a band.  He told me to go for it - he was in a band, he knew a lot of musicians - I should talk to them... so I did...

In February of 2003 I cut my first album (if you can really call it that) in my new band "The F-Bombs"  Punk Rock at it's best.  We even had stage names, that lasted maybe 6 months... After a bunch of change ups we played our first show in late 2003 at the Symposium... that place was our home for a long while.
It was a November - I remember because Rancid was in town and we got bleed off from the show.  I was hung over, so hung over I was sober - and I just wanted to die.
Two female singers

I've never had a high like that in my life

and I never will again...

That brings us to the song of the night... "20 Eyes" The Misfits...

How can one live without them?

All of the F-Bombs songs were riddled with humor.  Heavy lyrics has never been my thing, at least not in the beginning... 
"Robot Maid"
"The Clothes That Make the Man"
"Eight Inches"
"Who Cares"

(here - go laugh - The F-Bombs - I'm the brunette)

So, The Misfits... I have this awesome memory of 20 Eyes... we were supposed to play the Symposium for the 100th time, but the bartender didn't show up so our show was moved upstairs to The Phantasy.  It was the first time I played on a stage that fit the 5 of us.  We had grown used to playing on top of each other.  I even remember leaning over to belt out a note as my bassist swung his guitar over my head and then I stood up - it wasn't planned... just good timing...  But the Phantasy was huge and there were people - and I was terrified... and very drunk... we did our sound check, the sound guy came over and he was nice (something I wasn't used too - Symposium guy... not so nice) and in the background... 20 Eyes.

The F-Bombs broke up a year later, the day after my birthday and our final show at the Hifi... but my favorite show ever was at the Pirate Cove.  By that point the fear was mostly gone.  I remember standing on stage setting up and the other singer came over and told me that you could see up my skirt so I walked up to the mic, said, "Is this on?  OK.  So I hear you can see up my skirt - here's what you're trying to see." and lifted my skirt up - the other singer just shook her head.  

I still say screw that.  I knew I was wearing a mini skirt - I had coverage on.  No one saw anything so save it!

I just stood there and laughed.  And then sang and then - there was a weird bubble party outside... I think we broke up 2 months after that...

The bands after that I played guitar (if you can call it that) in them, but till this day I still miss singing more than anything.  I miss standing on stage holding that microphone and pretending no one can see me as I sing my little heart out... The two bands after that - A Different Devil and The Whitechapel Harlots - I played and sang... 

One day I just want to sing again... that's what I tell myself (especially after having 3 beers - yes, I'm a light weight!)

Reminiscent of a life passed... 

I sit here and listen to music and I remember that day... the day I made the decision to go forward with it - I was seeing some guys we knew play a show and the opening act was a chick band.  I was super excited and they super sucked.  And I thought, I can do that and I can suck better at it and I can make people come back for more.  

I love those memories.
I love that I flipped my skirt up.
I love that I grabbed my boob on stage - 1,000 times over.
Or asking someone to buy me a drink in the middle of a set...

I wrote a lot of break up songs at the end... I was good at that - 

...saw you just the other day, walking past our old place, wish I could have seen your face, but you were driving the other way.  Made me think of days long gone, when you held me in your arms and said that things would never change...

Oh baby why'd you say that to me
Why'd you tell me that you loved me
Why did you leave me all alone
Oh baby did you think I still lived there
did you think I'd be sitting waiting scared
All alone with out your love?...

"Long Gone" The Whitechapel Harlots

But the only song I had that made it through more than one band was "Who Cares" time, no place, no one, who cares
can't see, can't feel, can't speak, who cares
Don't want to be around here no more
Don't want to feel a thing no more

No peace, no sleep, no help, who cares
Can't take, can't give, can't steal, who cares
Don't want the life I have no more
Don't want must leave can't stay more...

See!  I always dwell on the bad...
It just makes for a better song! ;)


Maybe the next band - because I know me, there will be another one.  I can feel that in my bones - maybe in that one I'll write about happy things?
Or maybe I'll just learn to articulate lyrics better...
But the one thing I can be certain of - I'll be singing, and JUST singing - maybe a key board, but thats it... 

You know what?  I lied... here's another band for you to check out.  
They're called the Love Me Nots.  

Small.  Indie.  Awesome.  And from AZ

Check them out.

Start with "Move in Tight"

"...hold me just a little harder, yeah hold me tight..."

Have a good night, and remember, life is too short to be that serious...

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Where will sunbeams find you?

My attempt to blog during the day has ended poorly.
Actually, my attempt to sleep at night has ended poorly.  I'll probably go to sleep after this, at least for a minute or two.

I would like to blame the boy, but it's not that.  I've been staying up super late for so long now that no matter how tired I am, the moment I go into the bedroom I just lay there and stare at the ceiling.  I also don't think I'm used to sleeping next to anyone any more.

My poor husband... 

I've been moving back down to the couch, and I'll pass out there for an hour or two and then drag my sorry butt back to bed in the hopes that I'll get at least 6 hours of sleep... I finally drift off around 5.  If you combine all the naps, I get enough.  It'll all be different in two months regardless so what's the point of dwelling.  

But dwelling is what I do.

The last few nights I've spent drawing on my couch.  We recently acquired a scanner so I'm working on some pictures for a story idea for my boy.  I read the opening of the story to my husband earlier, which took about 15 minutes because I was laughing the entire time.  I suppose when you spend that last who even knows how many years writing stories that are filled with sex and violence when you start writing stories about Ninjas that live in your shoes... I'm sure you can see my point.

When I went to that writers meeting a few weeks back and they asked me what I've written I answered, "pick something" and honestly, that really isn't a lie.  Children stories, poems, fiction, non fiction, science fiction, porn (I'm sorry "erotica") horror, screen plays, regular plays... self help... this crap... is it wrong that sometimes this is my favorite crap to write?
They, the people at the meeting, asked me if I was published - technically, yes.  If you're reading this - I am, in fact, published.  No, not in the form Jane Austen was, but that's what this is.  I think blogging is the perfect representation for what our society has become - it is the quickest fix that we can find.  No need for patience, no need to press on - it's immediate and in your face, and the best part?  There are no guidelines - its not like fiction writing where you need to have close to 75,000 words to say it's a draft or a script where you need 90 pages to say its a feature.  It's the oral gratification of the writing world.  

Say it fast!
Say it slow!
Say it crudely or make love to it all night long... 

There is no set way to do it or set thing you need to say in it.
And then, to make it even easier, you're alone - even if you really are not.  But you can trick yourself into this sense of security, because when you stop for a second to look around the room, there is no one there.  Just you and your computer.  You and your words.

Word masturbation -> blogging. 

I love it.  I love reading all these other peoples thoughts.  Be it poetry, something like this, sports updates and on and on... I'm trying to get there - to make time to read through and see what people are saying.  And then I love it even more.
Sometimes you just feel down right sneaky - a peeping Tom at someones window... McFly up in the tree with is binoculars looking into that window... 

Here's hoping I don't fall out of the tree.

Trust me, I'm not criticizing blogging at all.  Not in the least.  I was just thinking about it, thinking about why I do it.  It's going on four years now.  Before it was just for kicks or to keep people in the loop, but then it became about sanity.  
I told my sister it helps - I've told all of you the same, and it does.  And I like to think I help others too.  I hate when I lose my mind.  I HATE when I don't feel in control of my life.  (I am in no way a controlling person, but I like to have my p's and q's in line, and when I don't...)

I love the false sense of security I have here and I like even more knowing that it really is false, for this is the window into my bedroom and I am, in fact, letting you see me naked... suddenly now you're McFly.

When I'm out in the "real world" there are just so many different facades I wear, some by choice, some because I don't have a choice, and the rest are just a defense mechanism - that I've been doing for year.  

"Better Son/Daughter" Rilo Kiley - and this one is really for the words:

"...and sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on and your friends they sing along and they love you.  But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap and it teases you for weeks in its absence.  But you'll fight it and make it through, you'll fake it if you have to and you'll show up to work with a smile.  You'll be better, you'll be smarter, more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend.  You'll be awake, you'll be alert, you'll be positive though it hurts and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends.  You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest, you'll be brave.  You'll be handsome, you'll be beautiful.  You'll be happy..."

I'm happy, most days...
A lot more than I was.  I still have my moments, but I'm only human now aren't I?

My life is more in control, as much as it can be.  And while I look at things like A Better Son/Daughter, the words are just becoming reminiscent of things.

Anyway, tonight, I'd much rather be thinking about songs that make my skin tingle - not my heart hurt.  So, while I love those words, I'd much rather be singing along to Dream a Little Dream - 

"...Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you.  Sweet dreams that leave all your worries behind you.  But in your dreams, whatever they be.  Dream a little dream of me."

Sexy is better than sad
Blogging is better than going crazy
And insomnia is better than staring at a ceiling

Time to sleep.
Time to dream...

"...say nighty night and kiss me, just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me, while I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me..."

Sing it to me Louis!

Good night... 

19 Weeks, movies and drinking like its my job

Being the person I am, I signed up for every email known to man about having a baby when I was pregnant. At this point I no longer know why I did it. Maybe it was to help me through those times, reading stories from other women who had been there, see what my baby was doing...

At times it was hard. Especially around this time last year. We had a bit of a scare that led us to the emergency room to make sure the little one was doing ok. (you lose one suddenly you think you're going to lose all of them...) But alas, he was fine and now... he'll be 19 WEEKS! (meaning nearly 5 months old)

So these news letters... you'd think they'd stop. But they don't. Once again not necessarily a bad thing. I still get to read stories and quotes from women who have been where I'm at before me. It's reassuring to hear how other babies have done the same thing - gives you that sense of "~sigh~ Thank GOD my kid is normal" kinda thing. But sometimes I just sit here and laugh.

"Don't leave your baby in the car on a hot day" <- you're that person who thinks bringing electrical appliance into a body of water is a good idea, aren't you?

or one of my favorites that my husband and I laughed about for a bit,
"Our baby is 4 months old and we just had sex for the first time..."
Who the HELL waits 4 months?
Divorce papers would be in the works if we had waited 4 months.
We barely waited 4 weeks.
I told the husband that if there ever is a "next time" he can be the one that carries it, because I will not be waiting 4 anything...

But alas - I'm just going to find a back alley doctor to tie up my tubes so that later in life Lifetime can make a special about me. It'll have something to do with the fact that I should have just embraced having lots of kids and not done something so stupid as getting my tubes tied... Why do I watch Lifetime again? Oh, that's right. I just watch it at Christmas - because Falalala Lifetime is funny to me.
Just like Dick Van Dyke
And Freak Shows...

So I finished Goya's Ghost and the jury is still out. I probably shouldn't have deleted it and have watched it a second time. Most times I don't have issues with open ended stories, but at the same time, it really wasn't open ended... Not like Musa the Warrior - that just fell the hell apart. Or Curse of the Golden Flower. (sometimes just because it's an interesting historical story doesn't mean you should make it into a movie. It just might NOT translate very well - neither of those did. But they were pretty, but Asian films are now aren't they? Even Sympathy for Lady Vengeance was pretty - if not disturbing.)
Anyway, the acting was wonderful in Goya's Ghost, but I suppose since Inquisition Spain really has never been my thing... that might have something to do with it. I should watch that history special tonight so I can feel like I learned something...

I have yet to watch Burn After Reading, Rocknrolla or Walk Hard - oh netflix - how I'm ignoring you for my new found love of Showtime... Ondemand Showtime at that! Ondemand rocks. My brain should be mush by spring and that's only a small bit away!

Maybe I should stop ignoring the world... start reading news papers again... I don't know, the jury is still out on that one too. I'm tired of hearing/reading about all the pressure people are putting on Obama to clean up a mess that has been building in this country for nearly a decade. No one seems to realize that this isn't something that can be fixed over night and there are no magic words. The first time that man fails at something (and they all do - you freaking Kennedy was God lovers, it was called the Bay of Pigs) everyone is going to go insane and start reporting about how he's bad.
News media tends to irk me. The general masses just take it. They believe everything they're told even if it comes from a movie. I remember when Titanic came out, I was working at the book store and this guy came in and started discussing the movie with me. Telling me how great it was. I said sure outside of the inaccuracies of how the boat actually sank, it was fine and he became extremely mad a me, because evidently James Cameron is an authority in the specifics of sinking ships. (Ha! just like his career) Whatever... it annoys me. Don't believe everything you see and read, mostly newspapers, newsblogs, and television want ratings so they'll tell you what they need to so you tune in.

Maybe I should try to sell you that set of steak knives?

Oh how I'm prickly like a cactus... Oh how I love me some good propaganda and to watch people who think they're being told the truth...
Oh how I'm jaded and like to immerse myself in to fictitious lands and wrap myself in movies so I can pretend the real world isn't there - even though I know it is because that law firm keeps calling and the gas prices keep fluctuating and the economy is in the pisser... But I'll just keep listening to Day & Age (still stuck on Dustland Fairytale)
I did have another song stuck in my head for a second yesterday - "Teenage Love Song" by Rilo Kiley. Ever seen Married with Children? That song is about Bud. Miss Jenny Lewis gave up her "flower" to him and according to the song, it ended poorly.

Just like giving up your virginity normally does...

Now go watch some TV and listen to some sweet music and know that in two days - this Saturday - I'm going to a wedding shower / bachelorette party and that means I'll probably be very, VERY, very hungover on Sunday...

Babies and hangovers

just like two virgins trying to figure it out...
At least with the hangover some advil will make it better.

And this is me - blogging in day light!


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

We all fear what we don't know... and other fun lyrics!

And your song for tonight... A Dustland Fairytale by The Killers.

Its been stuck in my head for a better part of a week, but I'm sure that's due to the fact that every time I get in my car I punch the forward button until it reads "5".

I can't tell you what it's about.  I read somewhere it's about Brandon Flower's parents meeting and his mom having cancer.  I just know that it's one of those songs that flows right... if that makes any sense... 

It's funny.  I love rock music - and by that I mean classic and most of the smaller genres that fall underneath it, like punk and heavier music.  
I adore bands like Rancid (you don't even want me to start on Rancid... I used to have small cut out pictures of them hidden all around my apartment so I could gaze upon them whenever I wanted too...) or Black Flag, NOFX, Ramone's, Patty Smith and on and on in the punk genre.  Then for straight rock The Who and The Stones are WAY up there... funny enough when I was pregnant I had to listen to the Stones.  I made my husband go out and buy a comp of theirs just for me to listen too on repeat.  I haven't listened to it once since my boy was born, even though 19th Nervous Breakdown is one of my favorite songs.
I tend to revel in that area.  Hell, I've been in two punk bands and a rock band, written screaming lyrics, grabbed body parts on stage as I yelled into a microphone... but then, when I want to sing to myself... The Killers, Rilo Kiley, Fiona Apple, Prince... but if I put one of their discs in, meaning Rancid (especially Rancid) I'll never take them back out.  I'll find the longest way to drive the 8 block from work to home so I can sing every word to every song... but right now - 

"Saw Cinderella in a party dress, but she was looking for a night gown..."  The Dustland Fairytale

I find if I can do things hypocritically I can do them well.  
Maybe diversely is a better way to explain it...
I probably is.

All this time on my hands... I'm torn any more.

I find myself thinking about different things these days.  Movies.  Music.  Every damn special on the history channel that I watch (and the military history channel and national geographic channel and now... NASA... they have their OWN channel... effin love it)  

Anyone know what happened to Mail Call?

My movie count for the week (and it's only Tuesday) is 3 1/2
I watched the Visitor (which I think I mentioned) then Factory Girl, Becoming Jane and I'm half way through Goya's Ghost...

The Visitor was awesome.  I like a good movie that makes me think (cuz I never do that) but when the writing is good, so good that one line can make you go - "Christ, he's right!" that is a good movie.

Factory Girl was also good.  It reaffirmed my minor dislike of Andy Warhol (adding another notch to my anti-American way belt.  I'll bring up the Beatles on another night) But Andy Warhol... I always had an issue.  It's kinda like the movie The Graduate.  It is a good movie, but then, when you sit back and think that here is this story about a 20 something kid banging another woman and all the woes attached to it and stand back and realize that 1,000s upon 1,000s of US soldiers were being killed in Vietnam at the time... well, it kinda pisses me off... and that is how I felt about Andy Warhol.  Yes.  He's an Icon (Roy Lichtenstein did it better), but when there was a war going on and the civil right movement - the Watts Riots for the love of god and he was in his "Factory" making frivolous films about nothing... blah, blah, blah... 
Anyway - Factory Girl - it's a good movie if you want to take a look see.  Plus, if you have a thing for Sienna Miller - she gets mighty naked.  (you're welcome) And if you're from my generation - she's also playing Baroness in the up coming G.I. Joe movie so that would mean you get to see Baroness naked (kinda)

Becoming Jane is a chick flick in the strictest sense of the meaning.  If you're a fan of the period pieces or have a hard-on for Jane Austen.  It's good.  (If you think James McAvoy is hot - see it) if you hate chick flicks, think Ann Hathaway should have stopped after Princess Diaries and can't seem to get past James McAvoy in Wanted or if you hate the Austen... you're gonna wanna pass...

I'll get back to you on Goya's Ghost.  Right now I'm finding Javier Bardem to be creepy (kinda like in No Country for Old Men - but even worse because he's a Cardinal in the Catholic church)
Why do I have a crush on him?
Probably the soccer thing... 

So I guess that's where I'm at today.  
Did the 4 month check up on my boy.  He's the average weight of a 7 month old and the average height of a one year old - once again, he's 4 months.

"And the decades disappear like sinking ships, we preserver, god gives us hope, but we still fear what we don't know..." 

I have a documentary on the Mongols to watch and need to finish Goya's Ghost... then I should go to bed.  I'll probably have to pick one or the other... or I could just stay awake.

I don't feel much like talking about me
or food
or whatever else I tend to dwell on...

Oh, I do have ONE fun tid bit... wanna know what happens when your ex-spouse just HAS to have your house in the divorce settlement, and then doesn't take your name off the mortgage and then becomes delinquent on the payments on the house?

ANSWER: 5'4" dark haired chick shows up to Kinko's in River with a copy of said divorce papers and a whole slew of cuss words! (oh and with her lawyer on speed dial)  That's what my Friday looks like!  What about yours?
(HA! Married twice... anyone gotta set of steak knives they wanna sell me? Naw... I like this one... he's not a tool)

"Now Cinderella don't you go to sleep, it's such a bitter form of refuge.
Oh don't you know the kingdoms under siege, and everybody needs you.
Is there still magic in the midnight sun, or did you leave it back in '61
In the cadence of a young man's eyes
I wouldn't dream so high..."

~The Killers #5 "The Dustland Fairtale" 

So, have a deliciously awesome night
Get frisky with the one you love (I did... and now I'm online...)
I'm going to go have a cup of coffee, cuz that's the logical thing to do 2 hours before you go to bed!

Sweet dreams... 


Sunday, February 15, 2009

Movie, music and other stuff

And your movie for tonight, "The Visitor"
I'm not sure if its nominated or not, I think it was nominated for something at the Golden Globes, I don't remember... But any way.  Good movie - if you're into political movies.

I saw three movies this weekend - Feds (remember that one?  1988.  Rebecca De Mornay.  My husband told me he went to see it in the theater because he thought she might get naked.  Sad news for the husband... sad news indeed.)  I also watched Enchantment (Yes.  I know.  I don't care, it was cute and my boy likes the music - so you can suck it) and then The Visitor.  

Next up!  Burn After Reading.  Yes, that is what I'm going to do after this.  I SHOULD go write, but the blank pages is causing me to sweat... I'm lame.  I'm good at excuses.  Very good, in fact.  If I was paid for excuses I'd be rich.  

Anyway, I was told Burn After Reading is funny and I think it's only about and hour and a half long.  Who knew someone could make a movie in this day and age that's not 3 hours long?  I mean, if its good that's one thing but most times ( *cough* Kevin Costner movies *cough*) not so much.  (my butt still hurts from Dancing with Wolves, and it's been 19 years - and Water World... they should use that as a means to extract information from suspected terrorists.  Oh, they'll talk!  And if they don't... "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves")
But then again, some movies that are that long aren't so bad.  The Dark Knight was awesome and that was well over 2 hours.

Out side of that, the only thing I've seen in the past few days is "Baby Einstein's Baby Mozart"  my son LOVES it.  And by LOVES it I mean, it could be worse, he could like Barney but for now we get to listen to Mozart playing in the background as Xan stares all wide-eyed at the television.  As it turns out, there are a few things that he will just sit quietly and watch.  Baby Mozart, Football, Soccer and Hockey.  Now... Gangland - that documentary series on the History Channel, no, he hates that.  And just when I was learning about the Hells Angels v the Pagans in Philly... 


Oh how I jest... (once again.  not barney.  I should zip it)

I have no music for you today.
I didn't even leave the house, even for a second.  I put on pants only because my bro-in-law stopped by.  The moment he left, back in my p.j.s.

Tomorrow I'm sure I'll have something.  For now, I have Mozart.  I suppose there is nothing wrong with that.  Most times when I listen to classical I move towards heavier pieces... I don't think I've sat and listen to Mozart or even Beethoven in years.  I get on these kicks with Rachmaninoff, Grieg and Vivaldi and then I don't listen to any other composers...
When I was taking piano lessons, my teacher was obsessed with rag time music, so when I started to learn about classical I just found things either in movies (good example would be Shine and Rachmaninoff) and then I had this wonderful customer who would bring me burnt CDs.  (perks of working in the mall.  I also had a customer who would come in and teach me a new word in Egyptian each week because he swore I was Egyptian - no matter how many times I explain I was not.  Not even a little) 
But while I can't remember one word the man taught me in Egyptian, I have a vast love for piano concertos and classical music in general.  

Other things I learned from customers whilst working in retail for too many years:
-  If you work in a bookstore, chances are your customers assume you've read every book you carry... and get really pissed off when you state that you haven't.
-  More then one customer can be given the name "the mad wacker" for different reasons
-  That Vegas should open a Klingon Themed Casino because people would go
-  That I look Lebanese and when I say I'm not, people will speak to me in Lebanese and then get pissed when I don't respond - probably because I'm... not... Lebanese  
-  That mall security is just there to "look pretty" cuz when you call them to escort the Klingon guy out of your store, they do nothing.
-  13 year old boys think all women find wine coolers to be exciting and will offer to steal you some if you sell them a pocket knife

and so much more!

But alas, I left retail many a moon ago, and now I work in an industry that requires background checks.  Let me tell you about the man that got 954 years in prison for, you guessed it!  Murder.  He got out in 15.

OUR LEGAL SYSTEM ROCKS! (and I don't suggest ever moving to Mansfield - or any other town that is wrapped around a prison)

But anyway, I'm off... 

good night.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Holding Patterns...

She walks into a room with a cup of steaming hot coffee and a chip on her shoulder.
The nights progress should have made her smile
They did make her smile
but then they ended and all that was left was wet hair, blood red letters that screamed "you're the best" and the coffee that was contained by the cup...

It's cryptic
but what in life isn't?

The computer screen, the only light in the room making her face look even more drawn than it really is.  The scratches on her decade old glasses that give off an eerie glow as she stares at the computer screen.

Always angry...
At least you can feel anger.
its something
even if it's ill gotten

How did it come to this
How did she become an embodiment of anger?  She should smile, be happy.  Sing.

But no

She comes into a room with a chip on her shoulder
A cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand
blood red letters telling her she's something she clearly know she's not
"The best"

Like Toad in Mario Cart...

The best at what
of what?

She is a combination of one thousand emotions that mean nothing
That will never be recognized

Years in the making to be a cliche that is just that

No one wants to be common

Yet still
I sit in the dark
This computer causing my face to glow in a pale eerie light
Waiting for nothing 
and knowing that nothing will come

The landing hold is on
it's been on for too long

Maybe if I'm lucky I'll crash

Just like all those planes killing my dream

This is just another over dramatic rendition of my life
That should have been left unsaid.

And there you go Crazy.  
There is your blog for tonight
Don't miss read
I had a blast
As I always do
But... even though I post it out there for all to see
I'll explain later
where no one else can... 
So don't hold my anger against you
It is not you
I have nothing to explain it
so I'm not going to try

for once, I really am lost for words... 

~the end

Friday, February 13, 2009

We're old...

In the past year of my life so much has changed.  
Some for the better
Some... blah.
But it's all change at the end of the day.

So!  I don't go out 6 nights a week
So I don't see people more than once a month...
So I watch more TV now than I probably have in the last 33 years of my life

NONE of these things mean I'm old.
So I'm tired of hearing about it.

What is old?
Is it a number?  A moment when you realize you sleep more than you have awake time?  It is defined by the amount of time you spend at home, or even the fact that you now own a house?
I don't think so
I think old is dead, and I'm not dead.

Yes, I don't see people that much any more.  Yes, this used to bother me tremendously, but my feeling is that if we're friends, we're friends.  I'm not 16 and I don't need to have a phone glued to my ear to define who my friends are.

Yes, I AM at home a lot more.  Part due to the baby, part due to the fact that I don't want to deal with things.  When I realized my depression was getting bad I did cut myself off and yes, in part that is a bad thing but in the end maybe it wasn't.  Maybe it just showed me some things I wouldn't have been able to see if I was still out and about.

But old?
Screw you.

If I'm old at 33 than what am I going to be at 66?  Bed ridden in a home for old people?
No - screw you on that too.

Doing something new doesn't mean I'm old.  Having an adult life doesn't mean I'm old.  Not closing the bar every Friday, not being able to walk off the hang over, not playing a show at the Grogshop - not old.

Can you tell this assumption pisses me off?

Defining yourself by the amount of money you drain into a glass at the local bar doesn't make you young, it makes you broke.  I love me some beer.  And I LOVE me some drunken fun.  They are great wonderful memories that I'll carry with me till I kick it, but so will all the new ones.

Some people say age is a state of mind.
Maybe it is.  I say who the hell wants to be 21 forever?
And when I was 21 I said the same thing about 16 years old.

Yes, it would be nice if some things didn't change due to gravity... but that doesn't make me old.  It just means I need to work harder.  Yes, as stated many a time I am a fan of a good work out.  I think that it keeps you in check physically and mentally.  And maybe it keeps you young.

Who knows.

Age is a number and the way I see it is the more numbers you have the better you understand yourself and this stupid world and that means you can be freer and enjoy it more because you suddenly realize all those "things" that worried and bothered you at 21 don't any more.  They're not important.

None of that drama is remotely important to me.

So now I drink my beer on the couch as I anticipate the next installment of BSG.  And now I get my kicks from doing forward folds and cat lifts.  Or from writing songs about my sons stuff puppy.  Its just new.

Putting limitations on your life only gives you limitations, and weren't we always told we could do whatever we wanted?  Why would that change when I have a child?  

Everyone can say "do as I say, not as I do"
I'd rather say "do as I do.  come on!  It's fun!"

There are only two things in life that are certain - death and taxes.  You can hate them, you can fear them, or you can embrace the fact that you can't change them and you can go out there and live your life and not be old at 33.

You know, I may be a bitch, I may have screwed up ideas on what love is, I may think drinking a cold beer on a hot day is like heaven, or a thousand other things.  But I am not old.

I'm a better person now that I ever was before
More relaxed

The biggest difference is the moment I learned that maybe, being alone isn't a bad thing, especially when it means there is no drama attached.  And then, when I do go out and get my "drink on" it's just fun - as it should be.

When I was a kid and they said, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  I always said a spy, adventurer!

Never once did I say "old"
so why would I start saying it now?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Just another break down! That ended in chocolate and cheese...

Every now and again I think how interesting it would be if I could just figure out a way to record all the thoughts that I have - and then I realize... no... that would be a bad idea.  It's a better idea to be able to pick and choose what thoughts I share with the world.  
(No really, not 8, I swear I'm a grown up...)

I was all over the map again today.  I woke in  a good mood, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays my boy is at work with me, so we hung out and then decided that we were going to go to Target to check out the latest GI Joe selection.  

He fell asleep so we ended up just driving around and then coming home.

I don't know why but everything just fell apart at that moment.  I got really depressed.  Ended up having a good old crying session...


I should collect my tears, I could add them to the lake that is currently my back yard.  You know, just one annoying thing combining with another...
Its annoying because I start that whole reconstructing "myself" crap - but let me tell you, this time it led to a bizarre realization.  I could actually hear the faux therapist in my head say, 
"And why do you think you picked those stories?"

What stories you ask?  WELL!  With VDay closing in and the amount of "He went to Jared" commercials piling up, I of course have "love" on my mind.  So I think of the blog I wrote about my opinion on said holiday and then I start thinking about romance and then movies/books that I love pop into my head - and then the trend appears...

Memoirs of a Geisha - 20 years to be with the man she loves, and in the book, then has to leave
Age of Innocents - never gets to be with the woman he loves
The Count of Monte Cristo - not the stupid ass movie that over simplifies the book - in the book he doesn't get back with his "true love" - Let's just say whom ever wrote Sweeney Todd probably loved Monte Cristo.  Edmund mentally tortures his "true loves" son just to get back at her... that's a sign of good stable emotional health...
Then there's Madam Bovary - she dies 
Hell!  Even Ender's Game!  He uses time travel, and the theory of the twin paradox to leave his entire world, very literally, in the past...

I am a psychology students wet dream of a thesis...

But enter my saving grace... Jane Eyre - nooooo!  He couldn't be with her until he was blind and deformed!


I just want to be a normal girl.  Flowers, chocolates, love at first sight, love that lasts forever...
But no...

Instead I watch the office and think, (in reference to tonight's episode) "Hmm... how true is that.  It's easier to have a broken heart if you think that he/she is just as morose as you..." <- its true - regardless of how much it seems I base my love life on tragedy... my poor hubby... it really is true.  Misery loves company... end of story.

What am I going to do?  Guess I'll just be freaking weird... What other choice do I have?
Maybe I should start reading happier books?  Watching happier movies?  WAIT!  Twelfth Night!  They all end together... right?  

Hell, I watch Die Hard every Thanksgiving because it's my favorite Christmas movie... 
Once again... poor hubby... 

After the epiphany that I am emotionally inept and unstable had finally settled... the night ended up being not so bad.  My mood turned around.  My boy has a way of doing that to me... gave him a bath and then some delicious sweet potatoes and put him to bed.
Then, as we were eating dinner I explain to my husband (there was cheese and beer involved in dinner this evening) that if he were to cover himself in chocolate and have sex with me, that today would be one of the best days of my life...

He refused to pour chocolate on himself.

baby steps.

He then left the room for a moment, came back in and stood in front of me and laughed at me. Evidently my eyes were darting all over the room and when he thanked me for dinner for some reason I just assumed he was thanking me for sex - even though we hadn't been talking about sex, or had sex for that matter... I'd blame AOTS and their "in your pants" segment... but no... after I made the cheese, beer, chocolate, sex comment it was like there was a high pitch buzzing in my ears and peoples mouths kept moving but I couldn't hear anything and my mind kept running rapid until finally the situation was taken care of.

Have I ever mentioned how I'm a classy, classy dame?  
Yeah, there's probably a reason I haven't...

Sometimes I try to be all reserved.  I smile and I make coy hits...
Sometimes I don't have the patients for that...
And sometimes - there is a buzzing noise in my ears and peoples mouths are moving but no sound is coming out because all I can think of is...

So I'm better now!  

And I'm drinking some delicious coffee and I just finished a second beer!  

Well!  This classy dame has to go do some laundry! steps for all of us...

who am I kidding?
And I kinda like it!

You know... until the next time I emotionally break down... you know - tomorrow.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Life and its ever changing prowess

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You know what irks me?
I think its the fact that it irks me.
OK, so that just sounds confusing, what I mean is life.  It just is so - I don't know!  And I find that frustrating!

I've grown tired of people telling me to relax.  To do this or that or the other thing, because just because I'm curious about things doesn't mean I'm up tight.  Just because I like to have answers doesn't mean that I can't relax.  Me knowing myself is an important thing and an ever changing things.  Knowing who you are, knowing your own mind is a very hard thing - not matter how easy some people make it look.

I try to keep that in mind.  I try to keep in mind the things that people don't say every day.  They don't say they just had a fight with their husband/wife, they don't say they hate their job, they were skipped over for a raise, their feelings were hurt, they don't feel sexy, and on and on and on...

I try to know me and I try to evolve with me.  Try new things, meet new people, go to new places - experience, learn and grown.  And I think I'm pretty good at being like that.  Metamorphizing into a new and better me, growing up but not growing old.  Or whatever.
And while I'm an emotional person, I really don't think that's a terrible thing, it can be annoying yes, but its not a bad thing, but at the same time I can be logical.  I can stand back and say, 'OK, you're right.  That won't work.' 

And then I get hung up on a thing.  And then to rationalize it I search the heavens.

Having a baby changes you.  That is undeniable.
But I don't think that is it.  Yes, my son has changed my life.  He has changed me.  But I just can feel it in the air.  The death of my old life.
For a while I wanted to revisit it.  But I don't.  I don't see the point.  I now need more.  I guess it's like learning algebra and then someone trying to tell you that really, only simple arithmetic exists.  No, there is more.

I don't regret my pass.  I look upon it fondly.  Even the bad parts.  I'm one of those that believe that the journey creates who you are and while sometimes the journey outright blows - in the end you're a better person for it.

I'm a better person for it.

And I no longer know what the future holds for me.  And I'm happy about that, because for the first time I see a very long future and before I just saw a few seconds forward.

While I'm irked by it all, I have to say I'm liking who I am.  And those moments, some of them from the old me, I still hold close because I don't want to forget them or forget the me that I was when I had them.

And who knows.  Maybe its not done.  But if it is.
I'm finally fine with that.

And that, my friends, is beautiful.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Happy Tuesday... again

My back is wrecked today.  I feel like someone hit me with a baseball back across the lower spine. (what?  we played rough as children.  I also know what it feels like to get punched in the kidneys and the joyous feeling of breaking your face.  And I'm a very clumsy person.)

I also have bruises across my thighs.  You might think I had a battle earlier with a ninja or even that the husband and I got a little rough - in a good way.  You'd be wrong on both accounts.

My back just sucks.  When the weather changes I'm usually in pain.  I did the physical therapy thing for a while but finally settled on a great love of aleve.  Just 2 a day my ass... how about 2 every 4 hours until the hole in my stomach expands into a vortex to another dimension.  
And my thighs - did I mention I'm a clumsy person?  Add to that I think its funny to balance myself on the edge of my kids pack n play and fall forward into it to make him giggle.  

That and I bruise easily.

An example? My wedding dress was off the shoulder and it kinda cuffed each arm just below the shoulder. When we arrived to the hotel on for our honeymoon, I stripped off my shirt and my husband gasped (as he should because I'm glorious - but it wasn't for that reason) the bruises on each are looked as though he had given me a good shaking.  
He asked me to use cover up, which I did - because foundation on your arms in 90 Florida heat (Universal Studios rocks) holds up.  I think I wore t-shirts the entire time.
Thank god when we came home it was cold.
Oh, Ohio.

So, my back.  
Yeah, I took 800 mg of ibuprofen about an hour ago - and nothing.  AWESOME!
I should just go do yoga - but I'm tired and I want to go to sleep.  I'll probably just go crash on the couch.  Because it's not wrecked enough yet.  Damn things only 5 months old and it looks like it's closer to 10 years.
...maybe THAT'S why my back hurts today?

I can't figure it out. 

It's kinda funny to think I had a kid because BOY do I freaking hate pain.
If only I were a sadist.

Yet still, I keep getting tattoos.  I want another one so bad.  

And I'd like it to be warm.

I was in a funk most of today.  Earlier I was planning on calling this blog, The Funky Train to Shit Town - you know.  Cuz it's pretty.  
My mood just kept fluctuating between extremely angry to just a nice firm blah.  I started thinking, or should I say over analizing, things again.  I keep trying to find the end to the puzzle in my head, but I can't seem to see it and then I grew tired and withdrawn at which point I had to talk to someone about my taxes and updating my W4 - which lead me to wanting to breakthings.

I really wanted to punch that freaking chick in her freaking face.  
In my job there are certain things I just do because it's MY JOB.  I don't question it.  Not everything on this damn planet needs to be questioned.  
For real.  
But no. 
Not this chick.  
She was going to "help me" out by never shutting up and forcing me to end the conversation because I was now backtracking into oblivion.  So my W4 is still not fixed.  They are STILL not taking out the right amount of taxes and I STILL want to punch her in the face. 

I hate people.

I'm convinced I'm going to die alone, because one day I'm just going to snap and I'm going to start screaming and my head going to get all Linda Blaire and pea soup is going to shoot out my freaking mouth and a demonic voice is going to follow and then who knows?!  
Child services will probably come and take Xan or the Husband will grab him and run and then - as I'm floating five feet off the ground (and for some reason dressed like Dana Barrett in GhostBusters) and the walls and floors are covered in the pea soup and the evil demon voice in side me will only be quelled when they shoot me with a tranq dart and the next thing I'll know is that I'm waking up in a straight jacket in a padded room.... 

That's logical.

I need... I need... I need... 
I need 3 things... 
A beer
Alone time with the husband
and I really want a freaking potpie - OH or pizza!  

Pizza, beer and sex

look out cold coffee, left over hummus and cat covered couch!