It occurs to me that Eminem is far more eloquent than our president. Is that horrifying or hilarious?

Happy Birthday Lynn,
You crazy bastard you!
Today you turned 30 and
maybe your hair turned gray and fell out but I don't think so.
I think maybe you discovered that everyone loves you more than you realize.
And hopefully you awoke today to discover you are one day closer to becoming the man you always wanted to be,
the man everyone else already recognizes that you are.

Happy birthday Lynn,
You crazy bastard you!
All bow down as Sir Lynn passes,
Bow your head, you stupid fool!
He's royalty!
It's his birthday!
Damn it, buy that man a drink!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LYNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gee whiz. I sat down to write my brother an e-mail saying thanks for letting me stay with you, and ending up writing this big emotional letter while crying my poor little eyes out, telling him how much I love him and miss him.

Hormones. Crazy.

I have an online "chat buddy" who is head over heels for this girl he met online. They have talked for years online, on the phone, etc. She is 17, I think, he is 21? Pretty close anyway. She lives at home with her parents. She keeps telling him she wants to meet him but then changes her mind and blows him off. Her parents won't approve, the family won't approve, the town won't approve. I think she's full of shit. But I don't know her, I have never spoken to her. So who am I to judge? Well, this has gone on for years (they started talking when she was 15 or 16?) and still she won't meet him. Let me be clear: they are both Christians who are saving their virginity for marriage. So, it's not like he's some lecherous old man who's trying to bed some young girl. Why not meet him? He has offered to come over to her house; I mean, you can't get much safer than sitting at the dinner table with your dad giving some dude the evil eye, right? And still she won't meet him. They live about 10 hours away from each other. He's willing to drive it. He thinks he wants to marry her. He thinks she is the one. Her? Who knows. She says one thing, but her actions clearly say NO NO NO. So whats the deal?

I know what you're thinking, but no. He's spoken to not only her but her parents on the phone. She's not really a man pretending to be a chick online.

We talk about her a lot. He's just losing his mind over the whole thing, sometimes. And who could blame him? To be denied the basic "Hi, how are ya?" is harsh. What is she thinking? She has no good reason, but many reasons, it seems, that change often.
Mostly I wonder why he's wasted so much time on her already; what is she, a siren? Is he gonna get online one day and tell me he was just walking down the street and suddenly ~WHAM~ there was a jagged cliff and he broke all the bones in his body?

But seriously, it seems obvious to me that she isn't ready, may never be ready, or is just plain seeing someone else. I don't know. But I do know she's just dragging him along, and should commit or let him go. But she does neither, and he keeps hanging on. It's like some hellish limbo for him, and it's very sad.

He could do a lot better.
And I wonder if he just doesn't believe he could do better, or if he really loves her that much. She seems like a selfish immature bitch to me, but I only hear the things he complains about, so my opinion is bound to be biased.

He's a nice guy. You hear girls complain all the time that there aren't any nice guys left. And here's this one, getting dragged around by some undeserving pain in the ass.

For his sake, I hope it works out with her. And for the sake of his heart, I hope God sends him a girl that steals his heart away and shows him what real love is.

I've been thinking about someone who doesn't like me. Sometimes I have to wonder if I just suck. But then one day I got to thinking about it while visiting with a friend of mine. This friend used to be friends with the other friend. This friend is no longer friends with the other friend because this friend thinks ex friend is "fucking psycho". This friend came to this conclusion on his own, and he is one of the most trustworthy wonderful people I know. And sinse he is still friends with me, and not EX friend, I think I should quit even thinking about it. Who cares what a "fucking psycho" thinks?

Well, Bele Chere managed to be a disaster. Big surprise. Some jackass dumped over my b/f's bike and the throttle is messed up now....thats lovely. You spend 15 hours serving these assholes food and they mess up your bike. Oh, I know. It's not everyone, just a few bad apples. But it's like this every year, which is why we prefer to leave town altogether.

I love Suzanne and Erica. So far it's almost 7pm and everybody else sucks. Thats a lot of sucking. I shall have my cake and eat it too. And if Suzanne and Erica were here, they could have some. The rest of you can kiss my birthday butt. Erica gets the biggest piece, cause she sent me flowers. This may well be the first time anyone sent me flowers.

Did I mention everyone else sucks?

I actually have 2 friends with the same birthday. Too bad I won't get to hang out with either one.

Trying to not be whiny is difficult.

My birthday is coming. It is likely going to suck, sinse all my birthdays suck. I had big plans. Perhaps too big. Alas. the plan fell through.

So I've been trying to not whine about how badly my birthday will suck total ass.

And it will. Like, my birthdays usually suck so bad that every year I think, "Surely this is just a bad joke, and soon I will go somewhere and SURPRISE! everyone will be there, and I will be so happy and tell everyone how they got me good, and boy my birthday was really suckin...." but then there is no surprise and my birthday really DOES suck that bad.

This is shaping up to be one of those birthdays.

......Throwing myself a party always seems so vain. But after 29 years of this, it's dawning on me that I'm going to have to next year. Cause apparently nobody else ever will.

How lame is that?

dumbasses falling in holes

Had another bright idea on how to deal with the Bele Chere drunks.

I think I'll dig a bunch of really deep holes all around downtown. In front of each hole I'll place a pretend news team. The reporter will stand directly in front of the hole with his or her back to it. And BAM as soon as the lights go on and the camera is rolling, you know some dumbass is going to come stumbling up behind the reporter with a cup of beer in their hand yelling, "Whooooo! Whassup Asheville?! Bele Chere! Yah!" and promptly fall into the hole.

Problem solved.


We'll call it Survival of the Fittest. Besides, we'll have some hilarious footage of dumbasses falling into holes. What could be better?

Saw a truck with a "Welcome To North Carolina" plate on the front. Hmmm, methinks. Is this to welcome his truck to the state or welcome the people he hits with it? Oh well.

I keep seeing my ex boyfriend. He's a sexy guy. Alas, he is also a As Of Yet Still Immature guy. And it amazes me, the stories he tells me of his exploits. The story today was of a girl he wanted to buy shrooms from. He calls her, he meets her at bar. Well, he meets her friend at the bar, and Girl #1 has gone somewhere but will be back. So he hangs out with Girl #2 and Girl #2 is already drunk and starts trying to kiss him and feel him up. Let us be clear: He knows neither one. He waited on them at work one day. So he finally tells Girl #2 to chill and she's hurt by the rejection. He has, however, already been making out with her for a few minutes. Ok. So Girl#1 comes back and doesn't seem pleased by what she sees, sinse she apparently had the same idea. She asks him if he wants to go to her house- presumably where the shrooms are- and he agrees. Girl #2 is in another car with Gay Friend Guy. On the way to Girl# 1's house, Girl #1 starts the same routine, and he decides he will just wait in the car, thank you very much, sinse Girl #2 is inside the house already. Ok. Girl #1 comes back out and starts making out with him. He says this is all a little freaky but what the hell, makes out with her anyway. Stops. Tells her he doesn't really know her, and she seems a little young, yadda yadda, but makes out with her for another while anyway.
Sees his ex girlfriend (not me) a few days later and what the hell, has sex with her, too for good measure.

And my boyfriend doesn't like me hanging out with him. Gee, I wonder why?

But I explain to him (and myself) that these are beautiful examples of why I broke up with him in the first place. A player, I do NOT need.
But he sure is fun to listen to. (laughing)

Sign in a yard today:
"Young dog, old dog, couple of stupid dogs, please drive slowly."

Hell Share

Trying to brace myself for and protect myself from The Crappiest Birthday Ever, which should be this weekend. I had originally hoped to be at Folly Beach for vacation this week but then my boyfriends boss decided they will work Bele Chere (which translates to: Hell Holiday if you live in Asheville.) Not only am I not going on vacation, but my b/f will be working all freakin day at that shithole they call a festival and will come home pissed off and exhausted I'm sure.

For those of you from elsewhere, Bele Chere is the largest street festival in the Southeast. About 350,000 people cram into our little town, and all of them seem to be ill mannered drunk assholes, as best as I can tell. The mullets are out in full force and rednecks suddenly emerge like cockroaches from the sidewalk cracks, and sinse they travel in packs, they seem to believe that they are the majority and not the minority any more. So they stumble around spilling their drinks, screaming at their kids and each other, yelling obscenties at anyone in their stupid-drunk way, and generally acting like retarded assholes.

I am sorry to any retarded people out there, I realize that comparison was an insult to you and unjustified. I didn't mean it figuatively, I meant it literally: they act like retarded assholes. If your sphincter could speak and not make much sense but could shoot out shit and occasionally a noxious smell, while not grasping the basics of human interaction and managing to confuse and challenge the people around you, that is what these people are like.

Ok, it didn't make sense. But if I see one more drunk dipshit carrying their baby in a Snuggli while staggering around downtown drunk as hell and spilling beer all over everyone (including their own baby) -oh I almost forgot!- while BAREFOOT, I may go insane and get me a damn paddywagon and paint STUPIDMOBILE on the side and start throwing these fucknuts inside.

I may also use brand the word "DUMBASS" on their foreheads. And see if they would like to donate all those organs they aren't using while we're at it. Seems to be the only organ getting any use is their livers, anyhow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~long pause~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


There are lovely things about Bele Chere. There are occasionally good bands, and fun stuff to do and see. Cool booths with groovy stuff for sale. Lots of people to look at. Unfortunetely, a lot of them I would rather not EVER see. If I wanted to, I would watch Jerry Springer, you dig? And sinse Asheville is such a freaksville bohemian town, most of these dumbasses don't come out much. Too weird for them. But boy, you get them good and liquored up and in a pack and all hell breaks loose.

Damn it all, it's my birthday. Don't they know? No? Oh.

Damn.

I also found out a friend of ours is working on Eminems house. He said he was outside swimming in the pool, which was pretty cool. Nobody talked to him though, they didn't want to bug him. Good plan.

People have a lot of flags in Michigan. Companys fly huge flags, just gorgeous billowy flapping in the wind things. Streets are lined with houses hanging them out front or on poles in their yards, with spotlights even. Not that I am Little Miss Patriotism, but I must say: Metro Detroit, I salute you. You rock. It was really beautiful.

OK, some thoughts on Michigan:

So I went to my friends wedding. It was odd, because the few friends I thought would be there were not. So I knew only the groom, his sister and his mother, who were all a bit preoccupied with the wedding. I went alone. I got to the wedding (not easy to find when you're from out of town) 2 minutes before it starts. I sit in back. Alone. Not a problem.
After the wedding, everyone moves outside, I presume to throw rice or whatever is acceptable to throw nowadays. But the bride and groom and entire wedding party is being held hostage by the Nazi Photographer who must take pictures and doesn't have the decency to inform all the guests outside to give up and leave already. But, not a problem. I wait, as does everyone else.
However, everyone else is standing in little groups talking, and looking over at me. No one comes over to say hi, who the hell are you? They all just stand in their little groups and keep glancing over, not smiling. I stand my ground and wait, and after about 20 minutes of this bullshit I decide that all these people SUCK and I am so glad I live down South, where no one would be so totally lacking in manners as to leave a lady (or gentleman) standing by herself for such an extended period of time. Finally people give up and walk away, and no one says a damn thing to me. I also leave, and I must say, I damn near didn't bother to go to the reception after that. My sister in law convinced me to go. I agreed with her, the reason I came was to support my old best friend in his decision to marry and that was the reason for my being there.

I head to the reception. I listen to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC on the way, and laugh.

I get to the reception, and am seated at the oddall table, which I expected. It is a relief, as the other people there don't really know anybody either. I end up talking to a girl who is dating a guy in the wedding party, and she lives in New Orleans. She strikes me as being rather uptight and conservative, at least I felt like I was constantly making impolite conversation. She finally relaxed a bit and we hit it off fine, and went out dancing and laughing it up. We were both laughing about the wacky midwestern accent and how neither one of us ever noticed it before (living down South) and how we probably sounded like that too when we lived here. And then the DJ got up and did a karaoke version of some country song, and I hid behind her in hysterical peels of laughter at his slaughter of an already cheesy song that sounded SO INCREDIBLY BAD with a northern accent. It was vastly amusing.

I finally got a chance to talk to my buddy (and his sister and his mom) and he thanks me profusely for coming. Then I don't regret the trip at all, because I see how much it meant to him, and that was the sole reason for me going.

And I got to meet his bride, who I loved already.
Sigh~ a happy ending, yay.

Much to my easily amused delight:

I frequent Dave Barrys Blog. I see there is a recent blog about poetry.com and how Dave Barry has decided to enter a poem about his dog eating his moms toes, and that he has listed his name as Freemont. You can search the poetry site and find it, he says, and perhaps add your own. Later he says that over 500 people have now made Freemont poems about dogs eating their mothers toes. I had to see. After seeing, I had to add. And I must say people, some of these poems suck. And some are freaking hilarious.

I know, I need sleep. But laughing is good for the soul.

Back from Michigan.

Head full of thoughts, but so tired.

Strangely, this is the first time I can ever remember that I didn't want to leave.

More when not so totally exhausted.

It's weird how going home always ignites this flurry of emotion. I think perhaps my running off 5 states away had led to be believe I have dealt with a lot of issues that are, indeed, undealt with. Hmmm.

It was, to say the least, a bizarrely stressful day. Glad to be leaving town for a few days.

Note to self: God watches over me. When I am at my weakest and most vulnerable, He/She carries me through, and even protects me from myself; my most diabolical foe. Remember this.

"It could be sweet, like a long forgotten dream...." - Portishead

I was just thinking back to my graduation, and remembered my boyfriend had told me he would be there. I never saw him, but he told me later he was there, up in the balcony. He said later he didn't want to bother me because I seemed so happy with my friends. Even then, he knew we were growing apart. He was older than me and probably knew the signs, I guess.

He is the only person I feel I have unfinished business with. We had a strange and wonderful relationship. Like two halves of the same whole, and yet opposites, too. Strange and wonderful. We both had tumultous lives, but together we were at peace, serene. I would have married him, there is no doubt in my mind. But then he just dissappeared off the face off the earth for 5 weeks. Didn't call, write, come over....or even answer the phone. I thought there could be another woman...but he would tell me. I thought it was probably drugs. It was. Heroin. It....still brings me to tears to think about it. And that was almost 12 years ago. I finally found him, at a Primus show. He hugged me there in the pit and spun me around. I'll never forget the first words I heard out of his mouth, in over a month, "Hiya, toots!" .......in which I found no explanation as to his vanishing, and abondoning me so suddenly. I left the pit and hid the rest of the show, totally bewildered. I saw him outside and asked him where the hell he'd been, and he told me. I yelled at him. I had to leave, I had ridden 5 hours to see this show cause I knew he would be there but my friends were leaving.

He came to see me the next day, with a long letter of apology. I still have that letter, and every letter he every wrote to me. I have a lock of his hair, which I sometimes take out and cry a bit, then hold it and try to surround him with love, thinking maybe he'll be busy doing something and suddenly feel wonderful, but not know why. I think how voodoo people use hair to cast spells and think maybe I should get rid of it, but throwing it away seems like a bad idea. Besides, I'm wishing him love, so that can't be bad, right?

We continued dating for a few months after that, but he struggled to break the addiction, and each time he did it again it bled the trust from me. I was too young -I think- at the time to realize it but it ate away the very thing that was so great about us. He was my rock, my strength, my unfaltering shoulder to carry me through. Suddenly he was weak, unreliable, untrustworthy. I decided to break it off with him. He was devastated. So was I.

A year later I got up the nerve to call him, and I did. He was happy to hear from me. I was happy to talk to him. I missed him, and still felt the void of his absense in my life. We arranged to meet, and it was ...like a home coming. We were back together, I think as soon as we saw each other. It was just so right.

A few days later, perhaps a week, we went to my favorite coffee place to talk. He told me after we broke up he had decided he had no reason to stay clean and went back to heroin. He eventually OD'd and had to be taken to ER. They brought him back to life. That wasn't what made him quit, though. It was his best friend, who in the moment he was dying, tried to grab his own stash of H and run out. He wasn't going to stay to save the life of his best friend.

When he found that out, he said, he was crushed. (Crushed really isn't anywhere near his heartbreak, but...) He decided that shit was evil and that was the end of that. You'd think I would be happy, he wasn't going to do it anymore. But after we had broken up he went back, and almost died. I...couldn't get the thought out of the back of my mind that he was going to self destruct, one way or another, and I couldn't risk the pain. I already knew what it was like for him to dissappear, what if he did it again? Or what if he died?

A few weeks later was my graduation. Shortly after that I came into work to find he had returned some letters and cute little love notes I had written him. I knew it was over, and it was my fault. I had been blowing him off...I just didn't know how to deal with it. I was 18 by then, and life was more confusing by the second. Within 6 months, I had married. I think I wanted stability, and it was a rebound reactionary decision. That was a mistake, and within 3 months I packed everything I owned and moved to Asheville. That is another story entirely, and not one I'll tell now.

I love my boyfriend, and think he's the man I should marry. I can easily imagine spending the rest of my life with him. So it's bizarre to me that I should still feel this pain and this empty place in my heart. I've never been able to fill it. But then, I'm not sure I've ever tried.

After spending an evening reading about tantra on line, I dreamed both my boyfriend and I were hemaphrodites (sp?). And it was soooooooooo cool. Like, neither one of us could decide what to do first. Funny.

more funny things from my childs mouth:

He's running around the house with his pajamas on his head. He says they smell bad. I ask him, laughing, "Like your butt?" He stops and after much thought says, "No, like your dipping fish in bologna."
Wow.
He managed to totally out-gross me.

Bumper sticker update: Listen To Your Soul.

Getting really excited about my trip to Michigan. I find this amazing! Usually I would be stressed beyond repair at the mere thought of such a trip (10 hours in car with 6 year old) but I am strangley challenged by it, and therefore excited. It's like I want to prove to myself that I am capable of accomplishing things that are stressful. It's like crossing some sort of metaphorical bridge. It's like I must have lost my freakin mind that I would consider doing this anyway.
Yah. It's probably that last one.

I think it's also that I usually fly up, and then am dependent on someone getting me from the airport and driving me around or letting me borrow their car to get somewhere. This time its all me. If I wanna stay at a hotel the whole time, no one can bitch. Not that I will. But it's nice to know I can.

And its a crazyass whirlwind trip: drive 10 hours, sleep, visit dad, visit best friend, visit grandparents, sleep, visit brother, wedding, sleep, visit dad, visit grandparents, moms BBQ, drive 10 hours home, sleep, go back to work.

Yah. I've definetly lost my mind. But it'll be soooo worth it. I hope.

Kids are so funny.

I am always trying to get my son to hang up his wet towel after a shower or bath. He never does. So tonight he keeps his towel on and is running around the house in it for awhile. And while he's watching cartoons, he lets out the loudest longest fart I've ever heard come out of his little butt and we both start laughing. I tell him, "Well, thats one towel I won't be wiping my face on!" And he laughs some more.
A few minutes ago I went into the bathroom and started laughing again: it's the first time he ever hung a towel back up.

More proof of my total dorkitude:

I was rummaging through a box of old things and I found an assignment from sophomore year of high school. This was when I first remember reading Shakespeare, and I was in love. So we had this assignment where we had to be a character from Romeo and Juliet, writing a letter to another character in the play. This is what I wrote:

Good evening my faithful comrade,

The past few moons have been rather eventful and insanely delightful. I am in hopes you have been treated kindly yourself. I have not posted a letter to you sinse the eve I told you of Rosaline, the center of my passing sorrow, and how thankfully that is now my past! Both my mother, father and friends had tried to rid me of my thoughts of her, and nothing worked its effect until mighty Cupid struck his ever true bow.
I, Benvolio, and Meraitio have recently had the adventure of crashing a Capulet party. Rosaline was supposed to be attending, but saw her I not, mine eyes were blinded by bow. There I met the most exquisite creature in all creation. Her beauty is beyond mere words, I can compare her only to the elements of nature, anything less would be of deep insult.
Her hair, it is winters branches woven with sunlight, and her eyes...two lovely worlds of blue seas. Deep inside those seas are her thoughts, much like the fabulous underwater creatures one can only begin to imagine. Her gaze upon me sets my very soul aflame. Ah, this eternal flame will be sweet bliss, and, I fear- or rather, am blessed- that none other could ever compare to the joy she creates in my heart; it lifts my very soul beyond the stars. Her skin, it is as smooth and inspiring to the touch as the first blossoms petals of spring, and her laughter is angels sweet music to my listening ears. Her smile, her smile, it is beyond all the wonders in heaven.
Astoundingly, my friend, she speaks highly of me, and her compliments are intoxicating. I find myself the colours of the autumn sunset when she speaks as such of me.
One fortnight ago, I listened to her proclaim her love for me in such a way I couldn't resist had all the hounds in hell chased me. She, unbeknownst I was listening, spoke of wonderous amourous love! And I, being in the state that I was (and still am), could not resist so beautious a sight and poured forth my heart unto her.
And zounds! Alas! Am I not confounded enough to love not only an enemy; but Sir Capulets own! Yes, it is sweet Juliet that I speak of, keep you still if you value my life! She says it matters not my damned name, for it I she loves and not a name.
She...wishes to be married and marry we shall, this very afternoon in the Friars cell. I have sent word with her nurse to bring her here directly, and Friar Lawrence shall make us as one, as we were meant to be.
And, being as such, I must leave you directly. I have so much to do, such plans, so glorious an event!
Until I am a married man,
adieu,
Romeo Montague

The funny part? We had to stand up and read our letters in front of the class. I went first. And I discovered that no one else had written their letters in Shakespearean style; their letters were more like, "Romeo, whats up dude? I heard you scored with that Juliet chick, whats up with that?" And it dawned on me why everyone was looking at me like I was insane while I read mine.

It occurs to me there are few moments where you can feel both wretchedly embarrassed and wonderfully proud at the same time. This was one of those times.

He calls to apologize. Will wonders never cease?

Strangely, I am relieved now. Was this what was bothering me? I hadn't thought about it, that he would be mad about that. But maybe in the back of my mind I knew he would.
Hmm.

Wow.
My ex shows up, wondering if I'm still planning on going to MI for my friends wedding. I say yes, and that I'm plannning on taking our son. He is angry, because I had asked him if he wanted to keep him while I went to MI by myself. He had agreed. This was BEFORE he lost his job, BEFORE he dissappeared off the face of the earth for the last month, BEFORE I couldn't even call him for weeks because he's been randomly staying with friends and has no phone, nor do I know where he lives. Back when this plan was made, he was steady at his job, and was planning to move into an apartment. All was looking good.

Then he lost his job and didn't call me for weeks. So I figure he's having a hard time and change my plans to include my son. I would call him to tell him this, but have no way to call him, seeing as how I don't know where he is. Ok. I am not mad at him. I know how he is and have long ago accepted his limitations (which are many). I just rearranged my plan. Not a problem.

So tonight he shows up, 4 days before we leave, and is pissed off to find out he won't be keeping him this coming weekend. In fact, he is a total asshole about it, telling me he NEVER gets to see his son. I remind him my family lives 650 miles away and rarely get to see him, and that he lives here in town and can see his son any time he wants. He says he never has any MONEY, so hows he supposed to hang out with his son? I inform him a 6 year old doesn't require wads of cash to be amused, and would be happy playing hide and go seek, which is free. He doesn't care for me pointing this out to him.

I tell him my family is all very excited about him coming and have already made plans. He says, "They'll get over it." He says, "They just saw him a few months ago!" I explain that my mom and grandma came to visit, not the rest of the family. He says, "Well that their problem, not mine!" I manage to not strangle him. I say my grandfather and father are not able to come down because of their health. He says, "Again, not my problem." I wonder how in the hell I ever let this total heartless loser stick his dick in me? How is that even possible? I tell him this trip is important to me because it may possibly be the last time my son sees my dad, who has melenoma. (My dad may be ok. He may not. I know him well enough to know we are exactly alike: he would never let on if it was serious. I wouldn't know until he died.) The asshole says to me, "It's only skin cancer! Geez!" But I don't kill him then either. I stare at him and wonder what the hell is so important about seeing his kid all of a sudden, this weekend. And I realize something is attached to this; something is contingent on him having his kid. Maybe he gets to borrow someones car (he doesn't have one) or stay at someones house (which he also lacks), and now that his kid won't be there, he has no excuse. It's not just about his son. If he cared that damn much he would call more than once a month.
He is such an asshole.
And I am an idiot for breeding with him.

I don't look for other people to have my answers. I think this is a part of what makes me such a introspective recluse. When things bother me, I know I have the answer, its jut matter of tracing it back to the source.

Such as:
I've been eating like a compulsive pig lately. I want to lose weight. I am not fat, but its something I want to watch out for. I am always amazed at how large some women get (medical conditions not included) and they try to claim it just happened, like they just ballooned overnight. Fat does not happen overnight, it sneaks up on you pound by pound if you don't pay attention, so I pay attention.
Anyway, I want to lose a few pounds, not much. But then I keep eating, and eating and eating. I could just take some diet pills, but I want to know WHY this is happening. So, I trace it back.....
I keep eating cause I'm stressed. Eating is distracting and enjoyable. Ok, stress. I could just take some anxiety medicine. But why am I stressed?
Here's where it gets more complicated. I'm not really sure why I'm so stressed. My sons dad has likely fallen back off the wagon, as they say. Haven't heard from him in a while, I know he's lost his job. But thats really nothing new, he does this shit every 6 months or so, so its not a shock or anything.
Works going fine. Pretty much.

I think.....I am stressed about the future. I feel stuck in limbo. I feel like nothing is happening, and I am no closer to where I want to be. The question is, where do I want to be? It's hard to judge my progress toward a goal if I don't know what the goal is, eh?
And sometimes I am making progress but I overlook it. I take my steps for granted and when I sit down and contemplate where I was a year ago I realize how far I've come, and give myself more credit, feel more fufilled.
Also, I seem utterly distracted lately. It seems like bills keep looming up on me, and I'm forgetting everything and paying bills late. I have the money, I just don't pay attention!
And I've been very easily startled.

Something is circling the back of my brain.
What is it?

Actually got to go out last night. Had a few drinks with friends. Now anyone who knows me knows I am not a drinker. I am actually, the most straight edge person I know (my age, anyway)....which is hilarious to all my old high school friends, who knew me as the biggest LSD taking freak around. But I digress...

After the first drink I was a giggling laughing carefree girl. I enjoyed that feeling, to which I have been a total stranger for quite some time. It was most pleasant.

And that is why I don't drink. Too enjoyable. I see all too easily how people become alcoholics, and that is my fear. Why, if I could feel like that every day, why would I stress about anything at all? Alcohol will temporarily take it all away! At least I would know that a break from the stress was in sight at the end of the day, and could look forward to it all day.

How easy it would be to never do anything about my problems!

Although I dislike stress and its accompanying physical ills, I require them. Without the discomfort, nothing would spur me to change.

Being a creature of habit is far too easy.

...Reading an article on how Arabs feel American TV shows are contaminating their culture. I wonder if they realize there are plenty of Americans who feel the same way (don't EVER get my dad started on this one!). Particularly the shows Sex And The City and some other show....both of which I have never watched.
The degradation! The shamelessness! The hussies!

But there IS an answer..turn the TV off.

I am friends with most of my exs. Very dear friends with a few, much to the chagrin of my boyfriend. (Even though I have explained the simple logic: they are EX'S for a REASON......sometimes many reasons).
That said, I discovered today that I now work with an ex. Also working there, is my boyfriends father. And I thought, WHY couldn't it have been an ex I am still friends with? This one, I am fairly certain, harbors feelings of malice. Although he always acts happy to see me, it doesn't jive. I have had him go off on a tirade directed at me before, so I'm not crazy in assuming he doesn't care for me. It's not like I think he would speak badly of me, or that I would worry if he did. Nor do I have any ill feelings toward him, other than not believing his smile. It's just that uncomfortable bumping into each other thing I don't like.

Sign of the Cell Phone Times:
When you don't have a cell phone and your friends call you at home and ask, "Where you at?"

assuming, of course, that they aren't just stupid.

Looking into going to a friends wedding....5 states away. And seriously, I must remind myself, when I get married....make it easy on people. I understand he's getting married 43 miles from where I'll be staying. Ok. But then to have the reception another 30 something miles away from the wedding....and then travel back home, another 30 miles from the reception....I ALREADY DROVE 650 MILES TO GO TO THE WEDDING! Come on!
I am estatic they're getting married. It's a beautiful thing. All I'm saying is...whoever planned this thing is obviously riding in a limo. Thats all I'm saying.

Monday, back to work and perfectly content. And I wonder: Am I Insane? Seriously. I am far happier on Monday than I am Sunday. I have such a cool job that gives me so much time to be lost inside my own cavernous head...I think maybe that is where I would rather be. Not very present of me, I concur. Hmmm.

Yet another Sunday spent grumpy. I am wondering if it's because I am never alone on weekends, and the constant jabbering of my child just drives me insane. I am truly a recluse sometimes. It's that old Sun in Leo squaring Moon in Scorpio thing; when I want to be in the public, you won't miss me...but when I want to be alone, you won't find me.
Weekends are mostly spent at home, but I am not alone, oh no sir. My little Taurus Sun Leo Moon child wants ATTENTION!!!! ATTENTION!!!! ATTENTION!!!!!!

When I was younger I thought I couldn't wait to have kids. I wanted at least 6. Now I wonder what the hell was I thinking? Times like this make me feel not cut out for motherhood.
But also, when I fantasized about motherhood, there was always an involved father in the picture. That, I do not have. Shit happens.
Harumph.
Instead, I have dreams where he passes out at work with a whore and coke on the table and gets fired. Go figure.

Things like this make me wonder, in my more morose moments, why I bother dreaming.

All day I have had a weird dream circling the back of my brain. I just found out my ex may no longer be working at his place of employment, which would be no big surprise....so I had this dream this morning about going into his work and an old friend of mine showed up and was trying to tell me why my ex got fired. But apparently no one was suppossed to talk about it, so he would only hint at it. Then another girl came up and was trying to tell me without getting caught gossiping either...something about him coming in there after hours maybe? Falling asleep in there, drunk, passed out or something, and people coming in to discover him there, maybe with a girl, or drugs, or both involved. Then later in the dream, I am repainting his house, like, on the sly, and it's funny to me.
Now, I don't understand the repainting of his house part, but the rest of the dream wouldn't surprise me at all if it was true.
I'll keep you posted.

Also, my odd daydream of fireworks in Iraq may not have been so far off as I thought. I read the next day that the Kurds threw a party for the American troops, as the Kurds also view July the 4th as a holiday. Well then, see now? I'm not so crazy after all. Just a little bit.

Strangely, I heard the word nepotism used 3 times on 3 different shows last night on TV. Is someone trying to tell me something? Should I stop holding my family in such high regard?
Bizarre.

Watching the fireworks tonight choked me up as it always does. And in the middle of it I wondered: what do other countries think of all this hubbub? (And what do aliens think of it?) And how cool would it be to be overhead in an airplane right now? Now, these are thoughts I have every year. This year I thought: What if Iraq manages to pull it all together and create a beautiful country for their citizens to thrive in and has a similar celebration in the years to come? How cool would that be? Oh, I hear you naysayers. Shut the hell up. This is my dream.

Anyway, if we were all British we'd have to say goofy things like, "Pip pip, cheerio, I say old chap!, and tata". Instead we have, "Whaddup?, later, YO, and see ya". I mean, we're obviously better for it. (sarcasm, indeed!)

>insert picture of me here, doing a birthday boogie for the US<

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!!!

I just found out my dad had a chunk behind his ear removed due to melenoma. Barry White died. It's the 4th of July. I am confused as to how to feel.

Time marches on.

I tire of sensitive people. No, I don't mean actual nice people with the ability to feel empathy. I mean sensitive people. People who whine about their tender little sensibilities, their poor little feathers have been ruffled, and damn it, they don't like it. And therefore, other people should change so they don't have to have their little feelings hurt. I swear this country is getting so damn mamsypambsy about this crap its ridiculous. I mean, we have to be politically correct! We must not insult people! All you have to do nowadays is claim some sort of injustice and people will bend over backwards to NOT insult you. Even if you DESERVE it. More on this later.

(later) I have been insulted, more times than I would like. And I feel I deserve some serious credit, because when I am insulted, the first thing I do is consider the validity of the insult. Most people immedietely jump to defending themselves, discrediting the insulter, or flinging return insults. When someone insults me, I take it to heart. It usually takes me some time to talk myself out of it, unless its so outrageous that I don't think twice about it. But if it IS true, then I use to it to forward myself, to better myself.
People who sit around whining about it just annoy me.

This is also a country where you can curse your redneck neighbors for lighting fireworks in the hallway between your apartments at all ridiculous hours of the night BEFORE the 4th of July.

Independence Day:

Here in America, you may feel free to pick your own religion, your own career, your own husband, your own neighborhood, even your own name, and in general be the architect of your own destiny.

That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

Ok, after listening to (gasp!) Rush Limbaugh today (who is sometimes insane and sometimes astute), I see how people are correlating the reversal of sodomy with beastiality. Both are laws based on morality. If the Supreme Court just reversed an earlier law based on morality (the old sodomy law) because "6 people decided it was immoral! Not the majority of Americans!" (Rush) then that sets a precedent that laws can be repealed based on the moral feelings of the Supreme Court. Ok. That said,
How many members of the Supreme Court have sex with animals, or feel people should be allowed to?

Ok, I rest my case.
Now shut up about it.

"If we live our lives continually motivated by anger and hatred, even our physical health deteriorates."---His Holiness the Dalai Lama

By the way, kudos to the Supreme Court, for growing some serious balls this week. For those of us who have friends who are gay, or relatives who are gay (or like me, an ex boyfriend! HA HA HA who seriously is GAY), or those of us who simply support one humans right to love another, WE SALUTE YOU!!!! It's about time the most Supreme Court of all acknowledged what many of us already knew: Love is Love. Get over it.

Now, what dumbfounds me is the aftermath of discussion: will this lead to legalizing beastiality? What the hell is wrong with you people? I am amazed that people who actually consider themselves intelligent can ask this question, as if the two are related. I, like gay men, like men. I, like gay men, like to have sex with men. Therefore, I am also wanting to fuck a chicken? Maybe a goat? I mean.....what? Where's the logic?
I think heteros that think this perhaps are tying together their own bi-curious erotic fantasies with what actual gays and lesbians feel, not stopping to realize that gays and lesbians aren't having fantasies, they are truly in love, and the difference is HUGE! SO perhaps one could tie one erotic fantasy (that inspires guilt for them ) to another one (of perhaps doing the family dog? and more guilt) and think the two are related. Well, the reality is: They're not.

Also I wonder: If gays were afforded the rights of heteros, and could freely express their love....and had the same expectations of marriage.....would young gay men be as wild and promiscuous as they (SOMETIMES) are? I mean, I know some serious drug doing club going orgy having gay men. I wonder if this is not some horrible knee jerk reactionary way to deal with being a young gay male in a society that shuns you.
Lets think about how difficult love is in our own lives, then add sex into that, then....imagine you are GAY. Ok? The misery and suffering gays have breaks my heart. I know of a lesbian who prayed to God to make her not love women anymore. Needless to say it did not work and it just makes me so horribly, wretchedly heartbroken for her.
Anyone who can't see how terribly sad that is...well...I feel bad for you. I hope you can wrench your head out of your ass. Maybe someday.

Tell me, where is the love?

It's pouring rain, the remnents of Bill. Good old Bill. And I love rain. And of course the roof is leaking again, as it always does when it rains. And I wonder: Where do the guys who work on this apartment complex come from? Is there a Museum For Bungling Dunderheads? Did they go there and offer to buy these gems? Or did someone just wait for some kid to fail shop class, then offer him a lifetime job here? I am curious.

I am such a total crack head for Boggle. Seriously. I am a Boggle Addict. Can't talk. Gotta boggle.