Oh JOY!!!

I got presents!!! Yes, Presents!!!

How lame is it I have no camera, ergo no way to post pictures of my delightful surprises! So I'll just tell ya...

Season 1 of Battlestar! Oh HEART!
'Knife of Dreams' by Robert Jordan! Yippie!
Chinese Movies!

There were a few other items in todays Bobisurprise, but being modest I'm not tellin ya. Plus, I like having a few things to myself.

I played hooky today, and it was GREAT. First I goofed of online for a while, then made my way down to DEC to take the loverly Crystal out for Enchiladas! Then after that wonderful, relaxing, way-past-an-hour lunch hour, I made my way down to the county tax office to pay my vehicle taxes. I've been putting this off since August, for two reasons, mainly. A - Laziness B- Brokeness C - Had money, but wanted to buy Stuff instead. I got a letter in the mail saying that the Richland County Sherrif's Office had noticed my mucho expired tags and that I had to turn in a paid reciept by January 31 or GO TO JAIL. Which makes me wonder sometimes if Driving is really at all worth it. Don't we have a bus here? But that's probably once again my laziness talking.

So, help me out....Reading or TV?

I say - Adorable!!!

Some late-night supercute questions from My Lovah. I guess we're trying to see if we can attain the "Most Adorably Geeky Couple" award. It's Bee and Bobi for the Gold!


1. When Jane sets out from Cleveland aboard the 456 express, and Jim sets out from Topeka on the 189 non-express (trains), how long does it take them to order lunch?

I wasn't looking, I fell in a martini.


2. What is your favorite six-letter word?

Wanker

3. How much do you love red-headed geeks named BOBI?

More than Axl loves Slash, More than Eddie Murphy loves Transvestites, More than Peanut Butter loves Jelly. More than, oh...anything?


4. The zebra looks at you anxiously. Do you:
a. Give it a cookie
b. Offer it psychiatric advice
c. Tell it about the lion behind it
or d. Invite it to your New Years Eve bash, even though it's almost February.

I'm gonna go with A for the Cookie. It's always a good time, and it's always fun to watch a zebra munch on cookies. Silly Zebra!

5. How many times per day do you blink. Be precise.

About Three.

I love you too!

Boo! No more pictures!

I've been in one of those moods today where it's everything I can do not to rush down to my local Sally's Beauty Supply and purchase a box of purple manic panic. I wish I had photos from my first adventures in purple hair, It was completely adorable! I had these cat-eye sunglasses that were the exact same shade! You can get away with that kind of look when you work at a vegetarian diner and coffeeshop. Not so much when you're stuck in a 9 to 5.

What's so funny is that when I did work at those type of jobs, I never realized how lucky I was to have that kind of freedom. All I could think about was how much I wanted a 'real job'. Now I don't make much more money than I did then, and have none of the perks (like free scrambled tofu for breakfast and getting to listen to Jim Neighbors CDs all day).

Of course you have to put up with whiny assholes who claim that you always skimp on the tahini dressing. Bastards.

I was never a good waitress.


On a completely unrelated note...I got my own mushy letter and an eTicket confirmation for my upcoming trip to MN! And no, Crystal, to answer your question, I'm not nervous. I am fully prepared to be so excited and happy that I make a total ass of myself for my manz. Sweet!

I want to have my own little Meme. What does that mean anyway? Sometimes I can be so stupid to be so smart.

I am tagging EVERYONE on this. Because really, mine does have the most interesting cross-section of possible answers. So Steal it, Bitches!

Here goes.

1. When you made your sex video with Paris Hilton, was the dog present?

2. Would you rather have a piece of Mr. T's Bling or one of Flava Flav's clocks? Keep in mind they are of equal street value.

3. When was the moment you realized you were in love with Fox Mulder?

4. You're faced with a choice: Riverdance or Gretchen Wilson. What to do?

5. You're stopped in traffic. There is a guy and a girl having a not-terribly heated argument in the car next to yours. What are they fighting about?

6. Elton John has already stabbed Rod Stewart and George Michael in the back. Is the Queen next?

7. Re-cast The Breakfast Club with current Film stars that don't make you barf.

8. It's Like This and Like That and Like This....discuss.

9. Who blinded you with Science?

10. Paul Reubens. Yes or No?

****
Yep. I'm a-crazy.

I've been tagged! Taggity Tag Tagged!

Thanks to Kimberlina, who somehow knew I wanted to post but had nothing to say!

4 jobs i've had:

* office manager
* coffee slinger
* temp (read: doormat)
* international superstar

4 places i've lived:

* columbia, sc
* raleigh, nc
* chattanooga, tn
* orangeburg, sc (not too proud of that one. not to proud at all)

4 movies i could watch over and over:

* cold mountain
* garden state
* amelie
* the frighteners

4 tv shows i watch (currently on air)

* lost
* scrubs
* deadwood
* rrrrrrome!

4 places i've been on vacation:

* maggie valley, nc
* cozumel, mexico
* chicago, il
* cape san blas, fl

4 websites i visit daily:

* gmail.com
* bust.com
* televisionwithoutpity.com
* blogger

4 of my favorite foods:

* sushi
* quesadillas
* any and all italian food
* the chick-fil-a breakfast burrito. nums.

4 places i'd rather be right now:

* burnsville, mn (shout-out!)
* cashiers, ga
* NYC
* asheville, nc

4 bloggers i am tagging:

* crystalpistol (have you already done this one?)
* wonderwoman (via Divas?)
* michaela
* rowan




That wasn't so bad, now was it?

So rarely as it happens.

Where music is concerned, I seldom get bouts of nostaliga and long for the music of my past. I've heard the music of my past, and I know for a fact that most of it sucks. (Except, of course, U2) I'd always rather find something new to wear out and then discard like an old sock. "What did I do with that Air cd? Do I really care?"

For some reason this morning, while blearily filling my teeny mp3 player with music I came across a song I haven't listened to in AGES.

Smashing Pumpkins - The Boy

What a great song this is! And maybe it's because it's James Iha singing instead of Billy Corgan, but that slammed me right back to 1998, when to me, you couldn't get any better than the Smashing Freaking Pumpkins. I'll be the first to admit that Billy Corgan really can't sing. He made it work on Gish & Siamese Dream, but I remember wincing through most of Pisces Iscariot. However! I believed then (and always will) that he IS one of the Greatest songwriters of all time. That's why he started going all weird, thinking he was David Gilmore. He started trying to look like Uncle Fester on purpose. I'm convinced he's somehow related to Michael Stipe, the only other musician I can say whose Ego could rival Corgan's. And maybe that's why I love them both (or did), because they're both extra extra crazy.

So without any furter adieu...

My Sugguested Smashing Pumpkins Playlist. You're welcome.

Cherub Rock (You ALWAYS start a S.P. Mix with this song)
The Boy
33
Transformer
Perfect
Siva
Eye
Mayonaise
Whir
Crush
Zero
The Last Song
Frail and Bedazzled
Adore
Geek U.S.A.
To Sheila
Cherry
The Aeroplane Flies High
Blank Page (always end on this song.)

You can't listen to 'Mayonaise' (I KNOW, stupid name for a song, Ego, remember?) or or 'Cherub Rock' without being soundly impressed with Corgan's songwriting skills. He's always kind of Wistful and Daydreamy, just like me.

Dustie McPhee will have her Revenge.

This morning I'm sitting in my chair very straight-backed, like my chorus teacher always taught me to sit. No slouching here! And not because I'm trying to improve my posture a little late in life...but because my back is in agony, and any sort of relaxing on my part will cause much wimpering and pain.

This is something that is going into my "Why Temping Sucks: Part II" article...my attic misadventures.

Yesterday was a pretty slow day. I came in, poured my jumbo cup of coffee (mmm, brain juice!) and did my filing. The rest of my morning was divided up into looking out the window at the cold, dark sky and sending sappy emails to the man in my life. (I love him too, by the way!) When I got back from lunch they had an all-new method of torture cooked up for me...the dreaded attic. There are tons of old bins and boxes in the attic, filled with Sales records, reciepts, reports, tickets, you name it. I had to go up there, pull all the old stuff, transfer those from plastic bins to records boxes to be shipped off, then put all the newer stuff towards the back. Luckily for me I brought my workout clothes, fully intending on going to the gym after work. I changed, put a new battery in the world's teeniest mp3 player and commenced to sorting! Within 3 minuites I was covered from head-to-toe in dirt, grime, cob/spiderwebs, and the ever-present dust. I started to get really into what I was doing. The sooner I finshed, the sooner I could come out of the attic, right? I was slinging bins around with gleeful abandon, dodging spiders and hoping that I was making a splendid racket doing so. I finished up in about 3 hours. Yay me! I made my way downstairs, where the dickheads that be informed me that there is not one but TWO attics. And attic #2 is about 3 times the size of attic #1, and much more full.

So the lady I shadow all day, Bobbie, takes me up to Attic #2. It's huge. And...hey! How come it's so dark in here?

Bobbie: Sorry, the light seems to have burned out. You'll have to drag the crates twords the attic door to see what's in them.
Me: Um. Okaaaay.
Bobbie: By the way, you might want to be careful up here. Some guy fell through the floor up here last year. Okay, have fun! (quick exit)
Me: Oh Fuck. This is SO going to be a featured article.

After about 3 minuites of dragging bins to the stupid hole in the floor attic opening, I started to hear something. I wasn't alone!

Imagine me now: Grimy, sweaty, dusty, exhausted, my batteries dead (so no more entertaining and distracting music), dragging huge bins full of paper (do you know how HEAVY that shit is?) to a hole in the floor where the light is coming in, while trying not to fall through the floor myself, and now in the presence of something I can only surmise is of the rodent variety? Yeah, the look on my face was 'comical' to say the least.

I started chucking bins downstairs wildly, (well, kind of) not caring how much noise I was making, because Rats is where I draw the line, thank you very much.

I dragged my bins to the clean, well-lit conference room, slammed them on the table and announced "I'm working in HERE for the rest of the day!"

No one argued.

It took me two hours to sort through 4 bins. I've got almost a hundred to go through.

Ow. My Back.

Return of the Journals

EEK! Deadlines! I was suppossed to have my Journals article done for Swanky Gruel oh....friday? Instead I've chosen to halfheartedly clean my room and catch up on BSG and Scrubs this weekend. And shop!

So time to backtrack a little bit, to my 'deep thinking and totally depressed' phase. I saved this one because, well, I'm very close to it. It's the Mucha 'Zodiac' journal my parents gave me for christmas in 2000, and I love it. Wanna see a picture?

I guess it could have been a mid-twenties thing, or maybe because I was married to a man who didn't love me...needless to say, there is some *seriously* weird shit in here. For example, my little bon mot on garbage. Ironic now considering my line of work.

"There is a drip and dribble in the scorching asphalt outside, now smoky after the rain. Those tiny rivers and garbage vessels float away down the drains, under the surface. And that is the secret, to see the life that lies beneath the surface, ready and waiting to take our place. And then will We be those garbage vessels? Will we float down the tiny streams? Down the drain? Go under the surface, waiting until the day we come back into the sun?"

I read a few pages more and concluded I was thinking about myself as a Morlock, because I was reading 'The Time Machine' at the time.

Sometimes you look back and are totally surprised that there are things about you that haven't changed all that much, for instance, I bring up this entry...

"Little bits of stories, mixed with little bits of truth. And who ever can tell the difference wins. I never finish my journals. I figured that one day my kids or more likely nieces/nephews would end up with all of these. if I never have kids, I'll give them to Claire. Whoever ends up with all of this stuff will discover a few things: 1 - That I'm a flighty bitch and 2 - that my only identities are the ones superimposed over me. I feel like an almost-clean slate, maybe a little dusty. But don't get me wrong, I'm almost 25, it dosen't bother me. I have a few basics that make me...me.
I am basically always happy."

and again...I must have had some kickin' PMS when i wrote...

"Ever hear the expression 'total crap'? My writing = total crap"

Insecurity isn't sexy in anybody. Especially me. This was all a very dark time in my life. Where I was stuck, tied to the train tracks with the train coming all the closer. What I never realized is that I had a knife in my hands the whole time, It was up to me to cut my own bonds. And when I did, my mood, and the mood of this journal, changed perceptibly. My life is far from perfect right now, but if you look past the inability to get ahead financially, the unfinished degree, and the ever-persistant doubt, you'll see that I am finally happy. This time in my life has held the most challenges, but as Locke says "it's the struggle that makes us stronger".

So to wrap up, the almost-last page of this journal (because it's true, I never do finish them), more bad poetry.

This one is called "L'orange" ::*ahem*::


It's in the thinnest morning light
that I see you standing in the kitchen
peeling an orange
waiting for winter's first thaw

We adhere to our careful canticle
skirting around each other
each of us reluctant
to breach this stasis

but today there is a smallish peace
and I feel you
softening in my arms
your mouth tastes like oranges.


Eeek!

O, Happy Day!

After yesterday's hoopla, I needed a little Girlfriend Shoppy time. Tara and I went to The Old Mill Antique Mall, which is this old tobacco warehouse in West Columbia that's been converted into a glorious plethora of the old, weird, and downright scary.



  
Here's Tara eyeing the best purchase she's made all day! A beautiful carved headboard & footboard, originally $100, marked down to $50.


  
I would have gotten this for you, Crystal. Sorry the photo turned out so darkish. Classic, and slightly off-putting Elvis Sneer.


  
Could it Be??? Masters of the Universe Sheets??? Yes! It is!


  
She really agonized over whether or not to buy these Canterbury Tales woodcut prints. Since they weren't on sale, we both opted for 'no'.


  
The Joker and Mork hanging out with a big rooster. That's gay.


  
How eerily similar to my own bookshelf this is.


  
I had to put Barbie in her own oven. Because the bitch must die!!!


  
Seriously, how sweet is this?

FINALLY, I show you my own purchases (minus 2, because they are a suprise for a certain somebody)

Risque Postcard!

This replaces my Brom '13' as my favorite piece of art! Check it Bitches!

This is so horrible and upsetting, I don't understand who would hang it up on their walls. I'd line my cat's litterbox with it, personally. Bad Dog!

We started to get tired after about 3 hours and STILL had not even looked at half of the stuff in there. We started to get loopy.


  
Ya think???


p.s. Can anyone please tell me how to remove these stupid caps?

Curses!

I hate you Expedia! I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!

::Stompy::


I was should have got my ticket to MN 3 days ago. When I logged on thrusday night, the price of the ticket had dropped from $193 to $183. Woo! Unfortunately, I didn't get paid until the next day. So right before lunch (and the requiered visit to the bank) Expudia showed the ticket had gone back up to $193. Okay, no big. Upon returning from the bank and logging on to *finally* buy the damned thing...the price had gone up to $310. I immediately burst into tears, mostly out of the sheer frustration I feel when I'm trying to buy something whose fucking price keeps hopping all over the place! You should see me at an auction, I'm a nervous wreck! So I spent the rest of my day cranky, fidgety, and highly pissed off. I could understand the overnight price-hike of $10 dollars or so, but over $100? I called Expedia customer service, where they were, surprisingly, friendly and courteous. Not as though that made a difference to me, I laid into them.

"What...the..Hell? You people wanna explain this shit to me? WHY did the price on my trip go up OVER A HUNDRED DOLLARS?"

I think that their customer service department is used to this question, because they gave me what I can only describe as the Carefully Empathetic Verbal Shrug. "Sorry Miss. It happens. A lot."

This did nothing to calm me down. I raced home from work, blowing off going to the gym with a co-worker, to call Bobi and complain about this fun new development. He let me rant for a minuite before calming me down with the one thing I hadn't tried yet: rational thought. I guess there's something to that after all. Everyone give my manz props, because I don't think he realizes how impossible it usually is to calm me down in mid-rant. Which makes me realize why I want to get the fucking ticket in the first place. Which makes me mad at Expedia again, which causes...

::stompy::

Lost Spagetti!

My dear friend Skylar came over tonight to get caught up on Lost. My friends are such moochers. But she did bring This. Isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?? The dog is pretty adorable too. We don't get to hang out nearly enough anymore, but I do owe her a lot. Like, for instance the phrase "boobie starer". I never would have known what to call old men who can't seem to look you in the eye if not for her genius. Also, she put 2 of my articles up on Swanky Gruel, and upon hearing my cupboards were down to Cream of Mushroom soup, brought me some delicious, extra-meaty spagetti.

Memory Lane Time!

Skylar was temping at my former office, pre-firing, and we were standing outside smoking (back when I still did that. Not counting my birthday indiscretions) when an older, rather grizzled looking man pulled up in a big honkin pickup truck. He rolls down the window, oogles us for a second, then blurts out "Hey! Ya'll buy LASERS?" This is not as insane as it sounds, since the Pit of Despair actually had the word "Laser" in it's name. We just looked at each other for a second, puzzled. We looked back at said man and said, "Uh. What Kind of lasers?". He leered for a second then says "Laser GUNS, o'course!". We shifted uncomfortably, as we tend to do in the presence of pure madness. Me: Um. No. We deal mostly with printers. Him: So....no guns?. Me: No. No guns. He leered again. Grunted and possibly groped that which had probably not been groped in some time. Him: A'ight then. (leaves). Skylar: What the fuck?
Me: shrugs

Hysterical Laughter Ensued, and thus was born a new phrase in the secret language of friends. If you're being cornered by a drooling lunatic who wants to have sex with your ears...that's a "Ya'll buy lasers?"

A not-anticipated release.

Dear Sofia Coppola,

How dare you Madam! You want to film a very glam movie about the Queen of all badass glams, Marie Antionette, and cast Cardboard Dunst as the lead? Obviously 'Lost in Translation' has gone to your head. I think the more obvious choice would have been Sarah Michlle Gellar, and I'm not saying that as a Buffy fan. You would think her role in 'Cruel Intentions' was enough to give away that my girl SMG could be as haughty and naugty as the rest of them.

Most sincerely,
PR Bethies.

What a little sleep-depravation can do!

After a full day's work powered by naught but 4 hours sleep, it's time to do something fucking goofy. Like...this....


b.o.b.i., be prepared! Because if I win...


You are Taking me to Paris! Of Course...


There Could be dangers.

Tuesday Already?

I'm not an official Self-Portriat Tuesdayer, by I'll thow one in today for the heck of it.



Cut me some slack! It's 7 am and I haven't had a shower yet!

If I had known that If i was going to make a shirt with Iron-on letters, I shouldn't use a shirt of the 'stretch' variety. I'm hoping it just makes it all the more endearing that my Nonis stretched out the layout so now the shirt looks like this...


Go Nonis!

As far as things to do go, it was quite fun (and, economical). I must work on that letter spacing next time. I'll use my T-square when I make Crystal's "I Belong To David B." shirt. Or maybe it'll just say 'Pistol'.

Have a great Tuesday everybody. Ashley, WELCOME BACK!!! Glad you're feeling better, and that your voice is back, so we can resume talking about Kelly and Julie, aka the Stick Figure with No Soul.

xoxoxo

Two-Eight!

I'm 28 today, and feeling every minuite of it. How does 28 feel? Like you've got the youth and vitality of 25 but the conscience of 35. Or something.

Last night I had my first-annual birthday bowling bash! In attendance was my best friend Tara the terror of the lanes, Skylar of the many scarves, Crystal and her Awesome Hair, Crystal's hubby with his smart ass and loss of balance, My friend Tony from high school who wore a belt buckle that said 'fuck off!' and doubled as a bottle opener, Gretta the goth soap-maker and her boyfriend Marc, awesome bowler and Gary Numan Fan. CARS!

We bowled all night (or until midnight-ish), myself frequently using the pre-lane space for such classic dances as the cabbage patch, the rodger rabbit, and the more modern dance simply entitled "Beyonce". I used the phrase "go Fisticuffs on yo azz" with much frequency and enthusiasm, and was in fact tempted to do so on more than one occasion. My theme for my look was Anime`, by the time I got home and got everyone out of the house, the shoes had come off, the makeup was gone, the earrings put away...but here's the gist of it...



I had no idea that shirt said 'Summer' until B.O.B.I. told me. I just knew it said 'Chinatown', and that it was extremely cool.

The morning after (being today, my actual birthday) I awoke with a rather unpleasant taste in my mouth. Pitchers of cheap beer give you morning breath like a dead hobo's asshole. I ache all over, my back and shoulders are particularly unbendy, but was it all worth it?

Hell YES it was! There is nothing better than being surrounded by people you love, being treated like the Queen, The Czar(ina), the Kaiser. And did I mention? Presents! My favorites being the box of fig-flavored Vodka minibottles and 'Tarot on the Go' set from Crystal and Angel. Unfuckingfortunately I left them in her car last night before our beer-induced trip to IHOP.


Gretta the Goth Soap Maker made me these, suprisingly un-goth soaps in my favorite scent, Pearberry.




My mom got me this storage ottoman. It's awesome! the lid flips over and doubles as a serving tray! Now I can 'entertain!' Mizz Mollie Likes it too.


I also got lots of cards! Can you spot who'se hiding in there, ready to pounce on yo azz when you least expect it?

To sum up, 26 and 27 totally SUCKED. I have this incredible feeling like 28 is gonna rock like 25!


The morning after. Swollen x2 face brought to you courtesy of 'Beer'.

Songs for any mood.

I'm compiling a master library, "Songs for Any Mood", here's what I have so far.

Love Gone Right
Try a little Tenderness - Otis Redding
Come What May - Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor (Moulin Rouge Sountrack)
Little Ghost - White Stripes
Make You Feel My Love - Joan Osborne
I Would Die 4 U - Prince
The Origin of Love - Hedwig & The Angry Inch soundtrack
All is Full of Love - Bjork
Share My World - Mary J. Blige
Modern Love - David Bowie
Thirty Three - Smashing Pumpkins
Sea Of Love - Cat Power
Missing You - Des'ree (Romeo & Juliet Soundtrack)
I'll Be Your Mirror - Velvet Underground
The Ship Song - Heather Nova or Nick Cave, either version is great but this song is a must have!

Love Gone Wrong
Around the Corner - Sara Harmer
Joey - Concrete Blonde
If I was your Woman - Gladys Knight & The Pips
Waltz # 2 - Elliott Smith
Come back Traci - Sloppy Seconds
Photobooth - Death Cab for Cutie
Happiness - Abra Moore
Ms. Jackson - Outkast
You're No Rock & Roll Fun - Sleater-Kinney
The First Anniversary - Dismemberment Plan
Tears are in Your Eyes - Yo la Tengo
Space Dog - Tori Amos

Dance in Your Undies!
Rock DJ - Robbie Williams
Obstacle 1 - Interpol
Frank Sinatra - Cake
Let's Dance - David Bowie
Flagpola Sitta - Harvey Danger
Change Clothes - Jay Z Feat. Pharrell
Talk about the Blues - Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Trunk Fulla Amps - Self
Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
The Denial Twist - White Stripes
Sparks Are Gonna Fly - The Catherine Wheel
Bulldozer - Fred Schneider


Lie in bed and reflect
Colors and the Kids - Cat Power
That Song - Big Wreck
Backdrifting - Radiohead
Saeglopur - Sigur Ros
Playboy Mommy - Tori Amos
All Mine - Portishead
Be Thou My Vision - Pedro the Lion
O I Sleep - Mogwai
Pillars - Sunny Day Real Estate
Tunnels (Neigborhood #1) - Arcade Fire
Plainsong - The Cure
Yulunga - Dead Can Dance

Enjoy, Perhaps with some beer?

Silly Little Girl

For some reason I decided to un-shelve my old journals and read through them. Now if you could just pass me that book of matches, Thanks.

The first one reads like a cross between some new agey cult brochure (was into some kind of native American sage-burning bullshit at the time. I'm not even remotely native American) and an epic poem on how wonderful, sweet, and absolutely, totally perfect my ex husband was. I was young and foolish...

Journal #1 is some vellum-type paper, softcover with a big fucking peace sign on it. Egad.

March 15th (watch out, Julius!) 1998...

Much of my anxiety has been because of my long-distance relationship with my boyfriend Cole. He's amazing, so full of wonderful light. I've been mostly depressed because we're mostly apart.

After reading this I discovered 2 things. #1, My gag reflex still works and #2, teenage girls are STUPID. "Mostly Depressed"? This crap goes on for AN ENTIRE BOOK, me talking about how life is like some beautiful scary forest and how I draw power from mama earth, etc. I never thought that when I got to be this age I could look back at my former self and bitch-slap her, but I so could right now.

Journal # 2 is hardcover, festooned with hideous purple roses. I remember I bought this at Target, back when Target used to suck. I can't read many of the entries because they got all wet and runny when my car ran into a ditch and filled with mud. If I was to sniff the pages, I'm sure they would still smell faintly of mud. But I'm not gonna.

I think the biggest laugh-riot in this journal would be the "poems" of which I will give you, gentle readers, the pleasure of laughing at...This little bon mot is called 'Blue Moon'. *shudder*

The children have gone home
their laughter lingers
the shadows of yesterday paint themselves
on the dreams of the old
as young lovers stir in their beds
Memories blanket sleep
the sound of the piano,
the curve of a neck in the moonlight.
There we were in the middle of it all,
looking stupidly up at the sky,
All the while you never understood the concept
of a Blue Moon.
Fumbling hands and sloppy kisses interrupted
By the buzzing of mosquitoes who play
slip n' slide on your back.
Briefly dreams turn to prayers
as mouths collide under neon.

Okaaay...What the FUCK?
Only I could have mosquitoes and slip n' slide together. Mouths collide? I'll be busy stabbing myself in the neck.
A funny side note about this "poem", there is a footnote that says "For the Fucker who Totally did NOT deserve this".
I can't remember who I wrote it about now.

There are a few other funny things I've stuck in this book. One of them is a post-it that just says "$80/Ounce". Obviously I was very organized when it came to buying pot. Another thing is a letter my ex's ex-girlfriend sent him that I intercepted. Which is childish and stupid, but I think the reason I kept it was this...(keep in mind I spelled everything verbatim so not to risk the integrity of this letter)...

"Pamela was saying , or catogorzing people today. Lake wanna be preps and things like that. I'd think I'd fall in the alternative, devil worshipping kind. I'm sorry buy my dark side comes from Love of Lusifer."

....

BWAHAHAHAHA! That shit STILL cracks me up after all these years. Poor girl. Oh yeah and Lusifer called, and he's pissed that you spelled his name wrong! Looks like you're going to HEAVEN, bitch!

Journal #3 is as far as I can go without killing myself tonight...I've got a total of SEVEN. #3 I filled up back in '03, when I first moved out on my own. I think someone nearby was smoking crack when I wrote this...

"I rule and here's why:
it would probably take a Nobel laureate to match my mind. Not vain, true. I can do everything. I haven't tried drywall yet, but I know I can do it. *KABOOM* I don't hate my hooters anymore!"

That one I actually like. I had no idea I had ever EVER called them 'hooters'.

There is a lot of stuff in here about my Old Friend, and I read it and cringe, just a bit. There are also lists titled simply "Words I Like". Ookaaay. Let's have a look, shall we?

Spruce
Raw
Accumulate
Leafless
Chortled
Plums

Huh?

More rad poetry later. For now, Wine!

To hell with work...

When I was a young twenty-something, a mere 21, I spent a lot of time at a little bar called Brewers. I have to agree with Carlin on one thing, places where single people go to hunt always have names that end with an 's'. Anyway, I was just beginning to master the drunk come-on. There was this guy I really liked, who I really wanted to spend some time with, in a naked sort of way. He was in my Advanced Lit class, a bass player, and a redhead to boot. Meow. So I hung out at the bar frequently, doing tequila shots and throwing come-hither looks like sharp pointy sticks. None of it worked. NONE of it. I discovered something then, we you like someone and they don't like you back, you feel crushed. But when you go to the absurd lengths that I did, you feel low. I've learned a lot about myself since then, for example what NOT to do when you like someone. What not to do is down tequila. That's what not to do EVER. Now a simple "hi! I like you! Let's make out!" suffices, but this whole event inpsired something in me at the time, that something being a country-western album.

Not that country is particularly my genre, but when you're the only girl in a bar, doing tequila shots and flirting with a boy who dosen't know you exist, what else fits?

Here are some of the song titles my friend Charlee and I collaborated on at the time...

"Last Girl at the Bar"
"To hell with work, let's stay home and screw!"
"I can't believe. (I peed in the woods for you)"
"If you care, say it with a hickey."

Not enought for a full album, but could maybe be an EP.

Aside from all that, I left the Wonderful World of tequila because Blackouts? Not fun. And I stay away from all bars that end with the letter 's'.

I can't believe B.O.B.I. also plays Magic: The Gathering! We's about to rumble, bitches!



My dad loved this cardboard box. He's also very strange.



Apparantely neither myself nor Trevor had ever heard of 'Furniture', we were such crazy kids! Always sitting on the Floor! My clutter so artfully scattered around us.

Don't call me Brenda.

If Crystal get's to have her obligitory post about stirrups then dammit so do I.

It's not as if going to the "lady doctor" isn't difficult enough for us girls, how awkward do you think it is when it's someone you know giving the exam? My friend Becky's mom is the new Nurse Practicioner at the clinic I go to. Imagine my surprise that Becky's Mom would now know me better than most of the men I've dated.

So today Becky's Mom found a not so lovely lump in my lovely lady lump. (God how I hate that song). She's sending me to yet another Doctor where I have to get an ultrasound on it. An ultrasound...there. An amusing mental picture, to say the least.

For your amusement, some Buffy Tarot Cards I made.

Love, Again.

So this wednesday was my Old Friend's Birthday. I invited him over for dinner, thinking he'd decline. To my great surprise and queasiness he accepted, and I made him Teryaki Chicken with rice and his favorite, peas (which are, incidentally, also my favorite). I cooked while he sat at the kitchen table, drinking sweet tea, making small talk. I was so nervous I burned my chicken.

After a while we started talking about his mothers illness, and I saw for the first time why he was here, because he needed to be here, needed to let some of this pressure off of his chest. In the seven years I've known him I had never seen him get so emotional. He also told me about his father, which he has never ever talked about to me in all these years. Tonight I experienced something I didn't think possible.

I felt love shift.

It was so subtle I barely noticed it. But after a few hours of talking and laughing and almost crying I felt how misplaced my feelings have been all this time. I still love him like a crazy person, but I know now it's because of him, and not because of an unrequited crush. He basically told me tonight that I'm his only friend. The only person he can talk to about these things, the only one in his life outside of immediate family he can trust. I know now we'll never 'be' together, and that suits me just fine.

Last year for his birthday I gave him a tiny ceramic elephant. It's about a half an inch high and if I had held on to it, I would have lost it within hours.

He still has it.

That's love.

And that kind of love is the only kind I need from him. It's plenty.