Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 30, 2006
I think it's a great shot that kicks a little ass. Since she sells her prints, I thought a little "promo" might get me in on a cut of the action. Whadya think??
* Between the heat, the hidesously barren landscape and the smell of cowshit, it's enough to make someone want to take the blade.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
When I get off the phone with my best friend, Ed always asks the same question, "How's she doing? What did you talk about?"
And my answer is always the same, "Fine. Nothing."
What he doesn't understand is that we don't need to talk about anything. Shit, half the time even we don't even know what we talked about. Most of the stuff we talk about is kept from the men. Her husband knows nothing and my boyfriend knows nothing; that is truly the best way. The less they know, the better.
Her husband doesn't get it either, us talking so many times a day, but at least he accepts it a little better. He doesn't ask questions. Half the time, he doesn't even acknowledge our presence if we are talking in front of him. And we don't miss a beat changing subjects smoothly if he walks into the room at the wrong time. Of course, we have all known each other for twenty years, so he's used to it. Doesn't get it, but is used to it.
Like Oprah said in her magazine this month, in which Friendship is the theme, "If you don't like my best friend, then you don't like me. That's not negotiable. It's just a deal breaker. Not liking my best friend - forget it! You gots to go!"
I am not by any means implying that Eddie doesn't like my best friend. He does. The great thing about him is that he likes all of my friends. He's just having trouble learning how to share me, so he needs a little training.
For him, it's going to be like boot camp all over again. Tough, but hopefully worth it.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Who knew the day would come where we'd be taking pictures with a PHONE??
Alexander Graham Bell is surely rolling over in his grave.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
2. You are in a threesome with two famous people, alive or dead.
Halle Berry and Viggo Mortensen
3. You are in charge of naming your new band. What's the name of the band?
4. You are going to get a free tattoo. What would it be?
5. You are being forced to listen to one song over and over, ad infinitum, as a form of torture. What song is it?
I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers
6. You are leaving your state/province. What state do you move to?
7. You are leaving your country, where would you move?
8. You get to spend one day each as a bird, an insect, and a mammal. What bird would you be? What insect? What mammal?
A bald eagle, so I can soar anywhere and be protected; a cockroach, so I would be able to survive world annihilation; and a lion, to be majestic with a nice mane of hair.
9. You must relive one year of your life. Which would you like to relive?
10. Which year(s) would you least like to relive?
11. You have a time machine that will take you backwards anywhere from 1800 to the present. What decade do you most want to visit?
The 1940’s. Love the glamour, the clothing, the men, the music.
12. You must choose to go skydiving or very-deep-sea diving.
Deep into the blue, baby!
13. You get to return to the past (using that handy dandy time machine we were talking about before) and have a sexual encounter with a rock star who is no longer alive. Who do you pick?
14. You get to be a contestant on any game show, airing today or in the past. What show do you want to be on?
Who Wants To Be A Millionaire
15. You are given $1 million dollars but you must give it all to one charity. What charity do you choose?
United Negro College Fund
16. You must ban one word from the dictionary and all usage, to be no longer uttered or written. What word do you ban? I can’t think of a word, but the phrase I would ban is: “My bad.”
17. You can have 100 million dollars tax-free but if you take it, you'll die at the age of fifty. Do you take it?
Shit yeah. I would live a lifetime between now and my fiftieth birthday!
18. Out of all the places you’ve been, where is your least favorite?
Texas, hands down.
19. Would you rather be a child photographer for a living or have a toe cut off?
Bring on the hacksaw!!
20. There is no number twenty.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
I said to Ed, "Why do skinny people even go OUT to eat?"
He responded, "Just to annoy people."
And now, I truly think that must be the reason because I can't, for the life of me, think of a better one.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Not that it makes much difference, outside or inside, because the house is as hot as sitting outside, on the asphalt, in my panties, with a tin-foil reflective shield - remember the kind people used to use to get more sun? A little fold up job that directed the sun to your face?
Exactly. That would have been almost as comfortable as sitting in the house. I take a shower and two minutes later, I'm drenched again; this time, with sweat. I blow my hair dry, only to have the heat come up through my hair follicles and saturate my scalp until I'm soaking wet again. And a hairstyle? Forget it. Hair, yes. Style, no.
My mother has sworn to never ask me to visit again because I am not handling the heat well. It's July. It's hot. Although, it's supposed to rain and cool off "considerably" - which, to the weather man, apparently means going from 106 to 96. Holy Toledo! A cold snap! I better get my ski jacket out of storage, sure sounds like I'm going to need it.
I have a few blog post ideas in my head, but I can't get them out. I will probably be posting some pictures to fill in for my lack of writing, which will get me back up to date. But don't be surprised if they are pictures of the end of my feet, with the TV in the distance and the remote in my free hand. That's about all I seem to be able to see right now since I have not moved from the lazy boy (which is positioned in front of the air conditioner) for days.
Hang in there. I'll be back.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
"I'm on the treadmill," I say "and it's fucking horrible. Let me tell you, I'm sweating like you don't even know and I just hate it. But, I'm almost done."
"You're what???" she says in disbelief; as if I just told her I was making skirts out of the hides of small gypsy children that I had shipped here from Romania.
"I'm on the treadmill. I'm doing thirty minutes and thank God, I've only got three minutes left."
"When did you start that regime?" she asks, in a voice that says, you never told me you were starting to exercise.
"About twenty-seven minutes ago."
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don't "HAVE" them, you "PITCH" them.
Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas,beans, etc., make up "a mess."
Only a Southerner can show or point out to you, the general direction of "yonder."
Only a Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is, ... As in: "Going to town, be back directly."
Even Southern babies know that "Gimme some sugar" is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.
All Southerners know exactly when "by and by" is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.
Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who's got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. If the neighbor's trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin!
Only Southerners grow up knowing the difference between "right near" and "a right far piece." They also know that "just down the road" can be 1 mile or 20.
No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.
A Southerner knows that "fixin" can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.
Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines ... And when we're "in line", We talk to everybody!
Put 100 Southerners in a room and half of them will discover they're related, even if only by marriage.
In the South, y'all is singular .... All y'all is plural.
Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.
Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.
When you hear someone say, "Well, I caught myself lookin'," you know you are in the presence of a genuine Southerner!
Only true Southerners say "sweet tea" and "sweet milk." Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it -- we do not like our tea unsweetened. "Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.
And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway. You just say, "Bless her heart"...And go your own way.
And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff ... Bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin' to have classes on Southernness as a second language!
And for those who are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, all y'all need a sign to hang on y'alls front porch that reads "I ain't from the South, but I got here as fast as I could"
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
crazy ass scrub lookin' for a lady wit love
Hey sup yall im 21 years old and love to have fun. Like to go to concerts and go camping and ride my bike and work out and such. im chill as hell i am a very goofy person and and i like to do well just have fun. Im sort of shy at first but when you know me i can git pretty nutty all silly like you know? But yeah im lookin for a down ass chick that likes down to earth dudes and has her own goofy style of living life so if you dig holla! Maby not but alright......um...peace.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Well, something like that. Here he is at the UFO Museum in Roswell, New Mexico; I think they want to do some research on him.
OK, so they're not probing him and doing research, but he is sort of on vacation...
Eddie is in New Mexico visiting his parents. He's been there for about two months while our truck is being repaired. I have been in New York, then Tennessee and now Arizona and he's in New Mexico, while our truck is in Delaware. Delaware?? Yeah. That's where he broke down; and now, we're playing a very long waiting game and I'm getting a teensy bit annoyed. OK, a lot annoyed.
But, the truck is now done and we should be back on the road by the start of August and I will be doing some actual driving this time around, so I should have a few good stories. And hopefully they won't be stories about how I wrecked the truck!
Keep your eyes peeled for more stories about me and "That Eddie Guy" in the future!
Friday, July 14, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
At the end of the night, she said "Come with me for a minute," as she stepped onto the front porch. She wanted to show me some twinkly garden lights or something. Seeing the bugs flying around the porch light, I pulled the door behind me and followed her out.
As she heard the click of the door, she whipped around and said, "You didn't just close the door, did you??"
"Uh, yeah, I did."
"Shit. We're locked out."
"What do you mean we're locked out??"
"We're locked out. That door automatically locks when it shuts."
Brilliant design, don't you think?? But, since I never panic in these situations, I'm thinking, no problem, we'll just pry open a window.
We head into the basement (which, no, does not connect to upstairs) to look for some tools to get into the house with. I find a skinny, cro-bar looking thing and I'm figuring I could just slip it between the old fashioned window frame and Voila!, pop it open.
After a half hour of circling the house and trying every window, door and small crack, I decided we couldn't get in. Which, on one hand is a good thing, because if we can't get in, then a burglar can't easily get in either; at least not without breaking a window first.
Happy with that revelation, we almost forgot we were outside. At eleven thirty at night. With no rescue in sight.
Her boyfriend wouldn't be home from work until two in the morning, there are no Starbucks open at this hour and unfortunately, the only late night places in this town are Denny's or Village Inn, and who wants to sit in Denny's for two and half hours?? After a brief discussion, we decide to head back up to my Mom's house and then I'd just drive her home in a few hours. Not ideal, but really, what's the alternative?
On the way out of her driveway, I called my mother to let her know what happened and that we were coming up to the house. She immediately says, "Well doesn't she have an extra set of keys?"
"No Mom, we're locked out."
"But she doesn't have an extra set of keys? Not even a spare hidden somewhere??"
Yes, mother, she has a spare set of keys but we're just not using them. We decided it would be much more fun to drive around till two in the morning with our eyeballs hanging on a thread because we're both exhausted.
"Mom," I say annoyed, "if she HAD an extra set of keys, do you THINK we'd be driving up to your house??? No. We'd be going back into the house!" Am I the only one in this conversation understanding this?
Once at my Mom's, we had several cups of tea (mostly to keep my cousin awake) and talked and laughed until it was finally time to get back to her place and meet her boyfriend when he got home from work. I had never met this boyfriend and wasn't too thrilled that this was the way I was going to be doing it. In a dark parking lot at two in the morning, which lipgloss that I'd had on since five that evening. How was I going to make a good impression now??? My eyelids were practically slits on the drive back down there!
Everything went very smoothly as I knew it would and we actually arrived just in time to catch him leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette. I pulled up, looked at him, and before I even said hello, blurted out, "I have two words for you."
"Uh, I mean three words...Hide. A. Key."
Shit, what an idiot he's going to think I am. First, I can't get into his house, now I can't count.
Welcome to the Family.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Anyhoo, her trainer Wade, has this problem solving technique; you present him with a problem and he asks you a series of quick questions.
Example: She recently got out of a nine year relationship and as you would imagine, was torn up about it and wasn't sure if it was what she really wanted.
So, Wade bombarded her with questions, machine gun style: Is this what you want? Do you want to go back with her? Do you want to work things out? Can you imagine living together again? Do you like where your life is currently going? Do you love her?
Boom! Boom! Boom! Ask and answer. Ask and answer.
He most often has a tendency to pull one of these: "Right now! Right this minute! What do you want? Girl A or Girl B? C'mon! Girl A or Girl B?? Answer!! You gotta answer."
And you say, all pressured and frantic, "Uh, uh. I'm not sure! I don't know what to do!"
"Girl A or Girl B??? Now! Answer. Girl A or Girl B???"
"Girl B!" you answer, finding yourself sucking in your breath because you just answered the question exactly opposite of the answer you thought you were going to give two seconds prior.
The theory is to answer so quickly, you have no time to think. You go with your gut. Your true feeling. The direction in which you are most drawn. And then you shake your head and it dawns on you that your answer was really what you wanted all along. Simplicity at its best.
Doing The Wade. Try it sometime.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Meaning, I always ask why. About everything; Why does a motor run? Why do you get up so early in the morning? Why did you just say that? Why are you wearing those shoes with that skirt? Why isn't she meeting us for coffee? Why do we have to go to church? Why is the sky blue? Why don't you drink Diet Coke instead of Diet Pepsi?
Why? Why? Why?
I've always been like this; my mother said I asked so many questions when I was little that she thought her head was going to explode giving me answers.
I'd like to know what the problem is with all of my question asking. I like to be informed. I like to know as much as I can, I like to get inside someone's head if I have to, fully understand a situation if needed; it makes me feel connected. If it's a person, it makes me feel closer to you. If it's a task, it makes me feel competent. If it's a procedure, it makes me feel like I can shake my head and say, "Ohhhhh. Now I get it."
When children are young, they are encouraged to ask why. But adults are told that they are nosey or probing or being annoying. I mean, it's not like I incessantly chant the word. I just want to know things.
WHY is that a problem?
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Saturday, July 08, 2006
"Um, no. I guess you have a point." But isn't that analogy supposed to involve riding a bike or getting back on the horse?
Not long after that conversation, another friend called me after midnight, which means it was after two in the morning in her time zone, to tell me she met someone. She was clearly drunk, very giddy and on a one to ten happiness scale, I would say she was coming in at about a twelve!
From what I could understand, between all the breathy sighs and the giggles, is that she not only met someone, but dirty danced with them; grinding all the good parts together in an attempt to lure her prey to the dark side. By the end of the night, she had written her phone number on their stomach in pen before they walked her out to the car. I'd venture to say they'll likely be calling. I mean, wouldn't you??
Then she seemed a bit concerned that she might be acting a little less than the gentle Suthun' lady she was raised to be and made a comment about how she thought she wasn't quite that much of a hussy anymore.
Well, from what she was saying, it sounds like she's back in the game!
I guess you never really forget how to ride
someone a bike when the time comes to get back on it, now do you?
Friday, July 07, 2006
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Aren't tatoos something you usually do when you're young and stupid? But when you're young and stupid, don't you usually have hair? And, um, if you have hair, you can't get a tattoo, right?
So when do you suppose he hired the lawn boy?
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
While in the truck on my drive down to Mobile and back, I realized something I've known my whole life; being on the road equals freedom.
I've always felt that way about driving. I can't tell you how many times I used to take the two hour trip down to New York City from my home in the Catskills. While on the road to the city and back, I always felt free. Like I could do anything. Anytime. Anywhere. It was a wonderful time to daydream.
On the way home from the city at night, I would lower all of the lights on my instrument panel and drive home with just the slightest glow filling the car, my music playing in the background. I felt as if I were the only one on the road; in the world even.
Driving a truck feels the same way. You are in this huge vehicle, King, well in my case, Queen of the road and it feels so powerful and free. In the past nineteen months, I've seen this life, this fantastic-and-free-and-wonderful-and-it-must-be-a-dream-that-I-can't-ever-possibly-have kind of life. But I do have it. We have it.
We go anywhere we'd like, at any time. We choose how much money we'd like to make for the week. We choose which states we want to visit. We decide if we want to spend our time off in San Francisco or Chicago or Miami or Fargo. We stay up as late as we'd like. We get out of bed in the morning when we feel like we've had enough rest. We answer to no one. We don't come in at eight, lunch at noon and leave at five. We have complete freedom. I've never been in a career that offered this kind of freedom and can't imagine ever being in one again that doesn't.
I look forward to getting on the road and using my new skill in a way that can only benefit me in a positive manner; with money, travel, experiences and more freedom.
The kind of freedom only the road can offer; a way to be truly independent.
What a perfect way to commemorate the Fourth of July.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Yes, Mike, since I am in lesbian training, I was tempted to go in but since I had a camera with me, I didn't think I'd be too welcomed. And as you can see, the parking lot was filling up and I was driving a big yellow truck - way too obvious.
Maybe next time. I wonder if the people in the Catskills know what they are doing in bungalows down South? Gives summer a whole new perspective.
Driving around the South these past ten days, I have seen this disturbing window sticker more than I cared to. It was everywhere.
It's so unfathomable to me how, and better yet WHY, it is that he has so many followers? I just don't get it. Personally, I think it should say "W. The Weasel", but that's just me.
I have to say though, every time I passed someone with the sticker, my first thought was Oh, how cool. They've stayed at a W Hotel, until I got closer and then just thought Oh, God. Not another one.
Do his people know that they STOLE the W Hotels logo???
I think I'll call them right now to let them know.