1. You are in the Witness Protection Program and must invent a new first, last, and middle name. What is it? Myrna Louise Feinberg. And I’d have them move me to Brooklyn; I’d never be found.
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?
Nomadic Nightmare
4. You are going to get a free tattoo. What would it be?
Perfect Eyebrows
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?
Tennessee
7. You are leaving your country, where would you move?
Italy
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?
2002
10. Which year(s) would you least like to relive?
2001
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?
Elvis
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.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
What Better Reason To Dine Out?
Tonight while I was out to dinner with Ed, this teeny-tiny, little slip of a girl passed our table as she was being led through the dining room by the hostess. I was thinking to myself, Man, how do these people go out to eat and stay so skinny??
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.
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
Flowering Rocks
Everytime I'm in his company, my nephew takes the camera out of my hand and asks if he can take some picture. Here is one of his shots.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Proof
This is a picture from my proof sheet when I had a little venture into modeling ten years ago. I love the black and white shot. Check out those skinny eyebrows! Once again, I'm thinking I should have stayed in L.A.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
The Heat Bog
I can't function. The heat has rendered me incapable of thinking, writing, blogging, living. Just bogged me down. I can barely eek out a breath to get up and get myself out of the house. Why, you ask? Because that would mean I have to leave the house.
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.
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
Two Things
1. I wish I took this picture.2. I wish I was there. (Why? Because today was one hundred and fucking NINE degrees.)
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Snap Decision To A Healthier Life
I picked up the phone to be greeted by my best friend asking, "What are you doing?"
"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."
"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
I stole this from Possum's blog, who apparently also stole it from someone's blog. But, since I've been spending so much time in the South recently, I thought it was fitting. And being out West now, I have to say, I miss all y'all back in Tennessee!
~~~~~
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"
~~~~~
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"
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Bam! Traumatized.
Last night at 3:17 am I woke from a very vivid dream.
I was having sex with Emeril Lagasse.
I can’t even begin to tell you how realistic it was.
I think I am psychologically damaged for life.
I was having sex with Emeril Lagasse.
I can’t even begin to tell you how realistic it was.
I think I am psychologically damaged for life.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Ah, The Primitive Beauty Of The Desert
“I'm surrounded by cacti, for fuck's sake... IT'S CACTI!” ~ Ryan Dunn (Actor)
Sunday, July 16, 2006
And People Say All The Good Ones Are Taken
Doesn't this just make you want to be single and looking? Word for word, from his personal ad:
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.
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
That Eddie Guy
Mary, a really cute North Carolinian, asked, "What happened to that Eddie guy? You haven't mentioned him in over a month. Is he on vacation or something?"
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.
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
Burglar And Idiot Proof
Last night I had dinner at my cousin Deana's house. It was the first time I had been to her new place and in addition to the great meal, I loved her house; a retro, Craftsman style bungalow with so many architectural elements, I was getting more jealous with the fabulousness of it all with each step I took, as she guided me through each room.
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.
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
Doing The Wade
A friend of mine has been working out with a trainer for the last few months. She's power lifting. Yeah, yeah, I know. Why? Right?
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.
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
Why Oh Why
I was recently told by a friend, "You have a 'why' background."
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?
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
Can Anyone Spare A Roll Of Pennies?
“Few people know so clearly what they want. Most people can't even think what to hope for when they throw a penny in a fountain.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver (American Writer and Activist. b.1955)Saturday, July 08, 2006
Embracing Your Inner Bike Riding Hussy
A friend of mine recently said, when I asked if they remembered how to do a certain thing, "It's like sex. Do you forget how to do it if you haven't done it in a while?"
"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!
"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
My Head Has Been In The Clouds For Weeks
And just yesterday, after spending the entire day in the airport waiting for my delayed flights to become airborne, I was actually there. Here are a few shots from my plane window.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
This Is One Lawn Boy I Have No Desire To See Naked
This is the guy who sat two rows in front of me on the plane today.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
Independence Day
Although I've been on the road for over a year now, I haven't done any actual driving. You might have read that last week I had an opportunity to help some friends by taking some things down to Alabama for them.
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.
True Independence.
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.
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.
True Independence.
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
Forget Country Music! We Have Bungalows Full Of Breasts!!
As I entered the great state of Tennessee, I was welcomed by a sign directing me to none other than this...The Boobie Bungalow. Located off of I-65, Exit 6 for those interested.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.
W. The Thief.
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.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Gulf Shore Toe Magnets
Yesterday, I spent the day at Gulf Shores, Alabama just lounging around on the pristine white beach, soaking up the sun and cooling off in the Gulf of Mexico waters. I got a tan, exfoliated my body, caught up on my magazine reading and boy watching and got about a cup and a half of sand in my bathing suit. Lovely.I also think I managed to attract the only two lesbians on the whole beach. Out of all the people lounging around and walking by, the eye of the big man-woman on the beach chair next to me did not leave me or my body for one second; and she was with someone. OK, granted, not someone as cute as me, but still.
Dammit. I guess the haircut IS too short. Either that, or she just really wanted to see my pretty pink toes up close.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Wanna Sip Of My Jagermeister?
Drunk girls are stupid.
And drunk southern girls??
Oh my God, y'all. This stuff is so strong. Tee Hee Hee Hee. It tastes like licorice. How funny!!! Hee Hee Hee Hee.
And drunk southern girls??
Oh my God, y'all. This stuff is so strong. Tee Hee Hee Hee. It tastes like licorice. How funny!!! Hee Hee Hee Hee.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I'm STILL Looking To Get Me Some Good BBQ
Today I ate at The Brick Pit, an award winning BBQ place in Mobile, Alabama.
I read about them in a local magazine; how they had been in Southern Living and Gourmet magazine and even garnered an appearance on The Food Network. Boy, they must be good.
I ordered the Pulled Pork (hand pulled, apparently) with a side of beans and slaw. I was expecting food from the Gods but I have to say, I know I'm no Rachel Ray, but my experiment on how to eat on $40 a day was just a bust. I mean, I came in under budget, but I didn't have the oh-my-God-that-was-the-best-sandwich-I-ever-had-Rachel-Ray-experience type of experience. I just wasn't very impressed by the food. I'm sad about this fact because it's supposedly the best BBQ in all of Alabama. Now, I haven't tried all of the BBQ in Alabama, but still.
Granted, us Yankees don't do what they call "BBQ" down here, so I guess I don't know from good smoked meat. But I do know good food. In fact, they actually use "BBQ" as a noun, not a verb here in the south; as in, "Wanna go get some BBQ?" or, like my friend Lynn said today, "I like me some good BBQ." Don't they know that when you barbecue something, it means you are cooking it over hot coals or on a revolving spit or over some other source of heat? It doesn't become barbecue. Barbecue is the method of how its cooked.
I read about them in a local magazine; how they had been in Southern Living and Gourmet magazine and even garnered an appearance on The Food Network. Boy, they must be good.
I ordered the Pulled Pork (hand pulled, apparently) with a side of beans and slaw. I was expecting food from the Gods but I have to say, I know I'm no Rachel Ray, but my experiment on how to eat on $40 a day was just a bust. I mean, I came in under budget, but I didn't have the oh-my-God-that-was-the-best-sandwich-I-ever-had-Rachel-Ray-experience type of experience. I just wasn't very impressed by the food. I'm sad about this fact because it's supposedly the best BBQ in all of Alabama. Now, I haven't tried all of the BBQ in Alabama, but still.
Granted, us Yankees don't do what they call "BBQ" down here, so I guess I don't know from good smoked meat. But I do know good food. In fact, they actually use "BBQ" as a noun, not a verb here in the south; as in, "Wanna go get some BBQ?" or, like my friend Lynn said today, "I like me some good BBQ." Don't they know that when you barbecue something, it means you are cooking it over hot coals or on a revolving spit or over some other source of heat? It doesn't become barbecue. Barbecue is the method of how its cooked.
If you have spent even one minute in the South, you will realize very quickly how serious they take their BBQ. In The Brick Pit, they had bumper stickers around the place that said, "This ain't no Dream, it's the real thing" which I think was a slam on Dreamland BBQ, another place just up the block from them. Hmmm. BBQ rivalry?
Only in the South.
Monday, June 26, 2006
There Is A Reason People Try To Repress Certain Childhood Memories
My mother was recently going through some old pictures from when we were kids and came across one that needed an explanation, so she called me. Here is our brief yet disturbing conversation.
Mom: "Which of the dogs, Leo or Wolf, had puppies?"
Me: "I don't think either of them had puppies."
Mom: "Well, I came across this picture of a box of puppies in our garage and I'm thinking that one of them gave birth."
Me: "Well, I don't really remember that. And if they did have puppies, it wasn't because they made them with each other; they were both boy dogs."
Mom: "No, I don't think so. I remember not wanting Leo in the house because she had her period and I didn't want her to get blood all over. I think she was a girl."
Me: "Well, that's just disgusting and I'm pretty sure Leo was a boy dog. And the dogs were never in the house, Mom."
Mom: "Oh yes."
Me: "No, Mom, they were not. The dogs never came into the house. Besides, Leo was an outside dog."
Mom: "Well, they were in the house. Wolf used to sleep in the garage and I remember them being in the house because Wolf used to hump Nannie's leg. I remember my father trying to get him off of her because she was so tiny and he was afraid she'd get hurt."
Well, yes, I can see how my grandfather would be concerned that the dog was humping his wife. In public, no less. And that's about all I needed to hear. I stopped listening at the point where my mother detailed how the dog used to hump my 4' 11" grandmother's leg. Do I really need to know anything more than that?
When I called my brother for his take on the story, he immediately said "Uhh, no, they didn't have puppies. They were both boy dogs."
Case closed.
Mom: "Which of the dogs, Leo or Wolf, had puppies?"
Me: "I don't think either of them had puppies."
Mom: "Well, I came across this picture of a box of puppies in our garage and I'm thinking that one of them gave birth."
Me: "Well, I don't really remember that. And if they did have puppies, it wasn't because they made them with each other; they were both boy dogs."
Mom: "No, I don't think so. I remember not wanting Leo in the house because she had her period and I didn't want her to get blood all over. I think she was a girl."
Me: "Well, that's just disgusting and I'm pretty sure Leo was a boy dog. And the dogs were never in the house, Mom."
Mom: "Oh yes."
Me: "No, Mom, they were not. The dogs never came into the house. Besides, Leo was an outside dog."
Mom: "Well, they were in the house. Wolf used to sleep in the garage and I remember them being in the house because Wolf used to hump Nannie's leg. I remember my father trying to get him off of her because she was so tiny and he was afraid she'd get hurt."
Well, yes, I can see how my grandfather would be concerned that the dog was humping his wife. In public, no less. And that's about all I needed to hear. I stopped listening at the point where my mother detailed how the dog used to hump my 4' 11" grandmother's leg. Do I really need to know anything more than that?
When I called my brother for his take on the story, he immediately said "Uhh, no, they didn't have puppies. They were both boy dogs."
Case closed.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Day Tripping
I started my day at the southern end of Alabama, on Dauphin Island, a strip of white sand beaches looking out on the Gulf Coast. I didn't do any swimming or sunning today (I'll save that for next week) but I did do a little exploring by taking in the seaside perimeter of historic Fort Gaines, had lunch at The Pelican Pub and then photographed some actual pelicans:
Later in the afternoon, on my way back to Mobile, I stopped to tour the beautiful Bellingrath Gardens. I got there just before the rain started, so I was able to take a few pictures before the sky got really dark.
Later in the afternoon, on my way back to Mobile, I stopped to tour the beautiful Bellingrath Gardens. I got there just before the rain started, so I was able to take a few pictures before the sky got really dark. 
This beautiful place was made possible by Walter and Bessie Bellingrath, who created this beautiful sanctuary on 65 acres, leaving behind a wonderful story. Please read about the history of the gardens on the Bellingrath website to get a real taste of these wonderful people who contributed so much to this area with their kindness and generosity.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Satchel Pitches A Great Question
I was reading a local magazine that had a little blurb about Leroy "Satchel" Paige, the first black pitcher in the American League, who just happens to have been born in Mobile, Alabama! See, I'm finding out a little history on this place.
During his teen years, the article stated, he earned a dime a bag carrying suitcases at Union Station. Joe Cuhaj, co-author of "Baseball in Mobile," said "Paige had devised a method of carrying several bags in his arms at once. The other porters noted, 'he looks like a walking satchel tree.'" That is how he got the his nickname.
During his teen years, the article stated, he earned a dime a bag carrying suitcases at Union Station. Joe Cuhaj, co-author of "Baseball in Mobile," said "Paige had devised a method of carrying several bags in his arms at once. The other porters noted, 'he looks like a walking satchel tree.'" That is how he got the his nickname.
Satchel's question was...How old would you be if you didnt know how old you were?
This is such a great time for me to explore this question but my brain has been in a frenzy trying to come up with an answer; I didn't think it was going to be this hard.
I thought about all the ages I would like to go back to when I realized, as I was typing, that it's not about the age I would like to be but the age I think I am right now. Did you follow that? If someone asked me right now how old I was and I didn't know what year I was born and had no indication of age, what would my answer be?
So, I think I would say, twenty eight. That's the very first number that came to mind. And when I thought more about it, that's the age most people think I am when they guess anyway. Perhaps I just give off that "under thirty" vibe.
In any case, I now have a couple of years before I hit the big three-oh. Yay! My thirties are going to be SO. MUCH. FUN! Most people dread hitting thirty; I am going to revel in it.
Wow. I feel so much younger already. Kinda twenty eightish. Boy, this is fun.
How old are you?
Friday, June 23, 2006
Stone Magnolia
Today I went to the Magnolia Cemetery in Mobile, Alabama. The following is from literature on the cemetery:
This historic cemetery dating back to 1836 was never segregated. Slaves and servants were sometimes buried in the family plots of the families they served. Blacks could also buy their own plots; many of their graves are concentrated in one area. The cemetery contains the graves of 78 US Colored Troops. The Confederate square 13 also includes the remains of black soldiers.
The brochure describes the cemetery "a masterpiece of Victorian history, funerary art and the beauty of the Alabama Gulf Coast. A journey through the past; beautiful 19th century cast iron, hundreds of unique tombs, crypts and family mausolea, statues and hand carved monuments and headstones.""
They have many historic gravesites, including those of: a beloved 19th century Southern novelist, an early member of the Civil Rights movement, six Confederate Generals, the founders of Mobile's Mardi Gras, Native American Army Scouts, including the son of Geronimo, and many more.
The cemetery covers over 120 acres and contains some 80,000 gravesites.
The variety and array of funerary art on display are breathtaking; from hauntingly mournful angels to elaborate urns, anchors, lambs and crosses symbolizing hope, mercy, forgiveness and memory.
In addition, the many graceful epitaphs are reminders of a more eloquent and devout age. A visit to this fascinating necropolis is an outdoor experience not to be missed.
OK, I have never in all of my life heard the term "funerary art" but now that I know what it means, I just wanted to let you know - the bird on that guys head? NOT funerary art. He was a real bird. Just stopping for a rest, I guess.
This historic cemetery dating back to 1836 was never segregated. Slaves and servants were sometimes buried in the family plots of the families they served. Blacks could also buy their own plots; many of their graves are concentrated in one area. The cemetery contains the graves of 78 US Colored Troops. The Confederate square 13 also includes the remains of black soldiers.
The brochure describes the cemetery "a masterpiece of Victorian history, funerary art and the beauty of the Alabama Gulf Coast. A journey through the past; beautiful 19th century cast iron, hundreds of unique tombs, crypts and family mausolea, statues and hand carved monuments and headstones.""
They have many historic gravesites, including those of: a beloved 19th century Southern novelist, an early member of the Civil Rights movement, six Confederate Generals, the founders of Mobile's Mardi Gras, Native American Army Scouts, including the son of Geronimo, and many more.
The cemetery covers over 120 acres and contains some 80,000 gravesites. 
The variety and array of funerary art on display are breathtaking; from hauntingly mournful angels to elaborate urns, anchors, lambs and crosses symbolizing hope, mercy, forgiveness and memory.
In addition, the many graceful epitaphs are reminders of a more eloquent and devout age. A visit to this fascinating necropolis is an outdoor experience not to be missed. OK, I have never in all of my life heard the term "funerary art" but now that I know what it means, I just wanted to let you know - the bird on that guys head? NOT funerary art. He was a real bird. Just stopping for a rest, I guess.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Mobile Misses
I am in Mobile, Alabama for the 2006 America's Junior Miss National Finals. Yes, I know it's not possible for you to have known I was pageant material, but c'mon people, if you really knew me...
Alright, whatever. So big deal, I'm like twenty years too old to be in this pageant, but I almost had you! Admit it. You know you were thinking, I knew it. She has that pageant-y look or maybe you said to a friend, see? I told you that truck driving thing was just a cover. She must get mobbed for autographs in the truck stops or maybe you're just saying to yourself, poor girl, she really is delusional. OK, so maybe I am a wee bit delusional; it could be the heat, you know.
The real reason I'm here is to do a little gig for a few friends of mine, who are audio producers for the show and I am helping them out with a few things. They have been involved with this pageant for years and are very dedicated to their part to make it a success. Actually, I think it's wrong to call it a pageant, it's a Scholarship Program. Well, a scholarship program with a talent, fitness and self-expression category. Oh, and Scholarship money. Let's not forget that.
A local magazine had this to say:
"More than 700,000 women have participated in the festivities, many of them earning money to further their education. Over the last 49 years, AJM, the country's largest scholarship source for women, has awarded $87.7 million in college assistance to high school seniors. Well-known alumnae include Diane Sawyer of ABC's "Good Morning America" (America's Junior Miss, 1963), "Inside Edition" host Deborah Norville (Georgia's Junior Miss, 1976), and NBC's "Will and Grace" star Debra Messing (Rhode Island's Junior Miss, 1986). Less well-known but equally grateful and supportive participants have gone on to success as scientists, lawyers, architects, ministers, human rights advocates, doctors, bankers and a host of other professions."
So, I will be in 'Bama until the first week in July scoping out the next Diane Sawyer and enjoying this TREMENDOUS hotel room by myself. Eddie is still in New Mexico waiting for our truck to be fixed and will have to go back to work as soon as it's done, so it's all about me.
I will be enjoying the hotel pool, the local seafood and even a possible beach or two. I've already explored downtown Mobile, while sweating my ass off in the ninety plus degree weather with a huge dose of humidity thrown in. I'm thinking I won't even do my hair tomorrow since I wind up having to wring the sweat out of it every twenty minutes anyway.
See? Told you I was pageant material. If only the judges could see me. I'd have that college money in my pocket by the end of week!
Alright, whatever. So big deal, I'm like twenty years too old to be in this pageant, but I almost had you! Admit it. You know you were thinking, I knew it. She has that pageant-y look or maybe you said to a friend, see? I told you that truck driving thing was just a cover. She must get mobbed for autographs in the truck stops or maybe you're just saying to yourself, poor girl, she really is delusional. OK, so maybe I am a wee bit delusional; it could be the heat, you know.
The real reason I'm here is to do a little gig for a few friends of mine, who are audio producers for the show and I am helping them out with a few things. They have been involved with this pageant for years and are very dedicated to their part to make it a success. Actually, I think it's wrong to call it a pageant, it's a Scholarship Program. Well, a scholarship program with a talent, fitness and self-expression category. Oh, and Scholarship money. Let's not forget that.
A local magazine had this to say:
"More than 700,000 women have participated in the festivities, many of them earning money to further their education. Over the last 49 years, AJM, the country's largest scholarship source for women, has awarded $87.7 million in college assistance to high school seniors. Well-known alumnae include Diane Sawyer of ABC's "Good Morning America" (America's Junior Miss, 1963), "Inside Edition" host Deborah Norville (Georgia's Junior Miss, 1976), and NBC's "Will and Grace" star Debra Messing (Rhode Island's Junior Miss, 1986). Less well-known but equally grateful and supportive participants have gone on to success as scientists, lawyers, architects, ministers, human rights advocates, doctors, bankers and a host of other professions."
So, I will be in 'Bama until the first week in July scoping out the next Diane Sawyer and enjoying this TREMENDOUS hotel room by myself. Eddie is still in New Mexico waiting for our truck to be fixed and will have to go back to work as soon as it's done, so it's all about me.
I will be enjoying the hotel pool, the local seafood and even a possible beach or two. I've already explored downtown Mobile, while sweating my ass off in the ninety plus degree weather with a huge dose of humidity thrown in. I'm thinking I won't even do my hair tomorrow since I wind up having to wring the sweat out of it every twenty minutes anyway.
See? Told you I was pageant material. If only the judges could see me. I'd have that college money in my pocket by the end of week!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Sometimes The Reasons NOT To Have Children Are So Very Clear
Perhaps they should learn how to spell babies before they decide to have any. FYI: the plates on this car were from Louisiana. I don't think I need to say anything more.
Well, except maybe; Now Is The Time To Fear Procreation.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
It's All About Me
I am obviously lacking imagination today to come up with something on my own, so I stole this one from someone else's webpage:
ME:
Name: Salena
Birthday: Sometime in the Fall
Birthplace: New York
Current Location: Homeless Vagabond
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 5' 8"
Right Handed or Left Handed: Right
Your Heritage: Southern Italian
The Shoes You Wore Today: Flip Flops
Your Weakness: Sephora
Your Fears: That I will never learn how to really listen well
Your Perfect Pizza: New York Made (Plain or Sicilian)
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Continue my weight loss, still learn Italian and buy a house.
Your Most Overused Phrase on an instant messenger: OMG
Thoughts First Waking Up: What should I do today?
Your Best Physical Feature: Lips
Your Bedtime: Always the wee hours
Your Most Missed Memory: Fishing with my father
Pepsi or Coke: Caffeine Free Diet coke
McDonalds or Burger King: McDonald's (but really, Wendy's)
Single or Group Dates: Single
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: No canned/bottled tea - EVER
Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: Latte
Do you Smoke: Hell, no!
Do you Swear: Hell, yes!
Do you Sing: At times. And I'm not too bad (except when I'm on a microphone and other people can hear me.)
Do you Shower Daily: Yes, if I'm not in the truck. If I am in the truck, not always.
Have you Been in Love: Not sure
Do you want to go to College: No, not really
Do you want to get Married: Yes, I think so
Do you belive in yourself: Yes
Do you get Motion Sickness: No, but I did throw up on my friend once while on a ride at Spring Fling
Do you think you are Attractive: Yes
Are you a Health Freak: Not even
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes
Do you like Thunderstorms: Yes, but lightening is my FAVORITE type of storm
Do you play an Instrument: No
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: Yes
In the past month have you Smoked: No
In the past month have you been on Drugs: Hell, no
In the past month have you gone on a Date: No
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: Yes, unfortunately
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: No
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: Fuck no
In the past month have you been on Stage: No
In the past month have you been Dumped: Sort of - via text message
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: No
In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No
Ever been Drunk: Yes
Ever been called a Tease: Yes
Ever been Beaten up: No
Ever Shoplifted: Yes
How do you want to Die: Around people who love me. But hopefully, not by their hand.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: A makeup artist
What country would you most like to Visit: Italy, Romania
Best Clothing Style: Semi-casual
Number of Drugs I have taken: None
Number of CD's I own: About 150
Number of Piercings: None
Number of Tattoos: None
Number of things in my Past I Regret: Two
IN A BOY:
Favorite Eye Color: Blue or Green (with dark hair) or Brown on most anyone
Favorite Hair Color: Brown
Short or Long Hair: Short
Height: 6'0 - 6'5"
Weight: Over 225
ME:
Name: Salena
Birthday: Sometime in the Fall
Birthplace: New York
Current Location: Homeless Vagabond
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 5' 8"
Right Handed or Left Handed: Right
Your Heritage: Southern Italian
The Shoes You Wore Today: Flip Flops
Your Weakness: Sephora
Your Fears: That I will never learn how to really listen well
Your Perfect Pizza: New York Made (Plain or Sicilian)
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Continue my weight loss, still learn Italian and buy a house.
Your Most Overused Phrase on an instant messenger: OMG
Thoughts First Waking Up: What should I do today?
Your Best Physical Feature: Lips
Your Bedtime: Always the wee hours
Your Most Missed Memory: Fishing with my father
Pepsi or Coke: Caffeine Free Diet coke
McDonalds or Burger King: McDonald's (but really, Wendy's)
Single or Group Dates: Single
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: No canned/bottled tea - EVER
Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: Latte
Do you Smoke: Hell, no!
Do you Swear: Hell, yes!
Do you Sing: At times. And I'm not too bad (except when I'm on a microphone and other people can hear me.)
Do you Shower Daily: Yes, if I'm not in the truck. If I am in the truck, not always.
Have you Been in Love: Not sure
Do you want to go to College: No, not really
Do you want to get Married: Yes, I think so
Do you belive in yourself: Yes
Do you get Motion Sickness: No, but I did throw up on my friend once while on a ride at Spring Fling
Do you think you are Attractive: Yes
Are you a Health Freak: Not even
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes
Do you like Thunderstorms: Yes, but lightening is my FAVORITE type of storm
Do you play an Instrument: No
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: Yes
In the past month have you Smoked: No
In the past month have you been on Drugs: Hell, no
In the past month have you gone on a Date: No
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: Yes, unfortunately
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: No
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: Fuck no
In the past month have you been on Stage: No
In the past month have you been Dumped: Sort of - via text message
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: No
In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No
Ever been Drunk: Yes
Ever been called a Tease: Yes
Ever been Beaten up: No
Ever Shoplifted: Yes
How do you want to Die: Around people who love me. But hopefully, not by their hand.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: A makeup artist
What country would you most like to Visit: Italy, Romania
Best Clothing Style: Semi-casual
Number of Drugs I have taken: None
Number of CD's I own: About 150
Number of Piercings: None
Number of Tattoos: None
Number of things in my Past I Regret: Two
IN A BOY:
Favorite Eye Color: Blue or Green (with dark hair) or Brown on most anyone
Favorite Hair Color: Brown
Short or Long Hair: Short
Height: 6'0 - 6'5"
Weight: Over 225
Monday, June 19, 2006
I.H.O.P.G.
Welcome to the International House Of Pancake Girlfriends.
What?
International House Of Pancake Girlfriends. Yes, you heard me right. Although, it could also be I.H.O.P.B to represent boyfriends too.
My single friend (yes, from the last post), recently informed that what she needs in order to get her over the break-up hump, is a "Pancake Girlfriend"
Someone to go out for pancakes with? Food? What??? I was perplexed. I didn't quite know what she meant; until she explained.
"Have you ever made pancakes?" she said.
"Yes."
"You know how the first one is always crap? It never comes out right? You either burn it or it is lopsided and it doesn't cook all the way? It's too thin and crepe like or just a big blob of pancake dough?"
"Yeah."
"And you always wind up throwing it away?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well" she said, "that's the Pancake Girlfriend. She's the one you throw away before moving on to the really good ones."
"Ohhhhhh. Now I get it."
I think I'm gonna fuck with her head and make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.
What?
International House Of Pancake Girlfriends. Yes, you heard me right. Although, it could also be I.H.O.P.B to represent boyfriends too.
My single friend (yes, from the last post), recently informed that what she needs in order to get her over the break-up hump, is a "Pancake Girlfriend"
Someone to go out for pancakes with? Food? What??? I was perplexed. I didn't quite know what she meant; until she explained.
"Have you ever made pancakes?" she said.
"Yes."
"You know how the first one is always crap? It never comes out right? You either burn it or it is lopsided and it doesn't cook all the way? It's too thin and crepe like or just a big blob of pancake dough?"
"Yeah."
"And you always wind up throwing it away?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well" she said, "that's the Pancake Girlfriend. She's the one you throw away before moving on to the really good ones."
"Ohhhhhh. Now I get it."
I think I'm gonna fuck with her head and make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Baiting The Hook
Last night, I went out to the Lipstick Lounge with my newly single friend. She decided she wanted to get back in the swing of things, so she took me out with her for lesbian bait. I would reel 'em in, give them the bad news I was straight, and then send them her way. A perfectly innocent plan.
I found myself to be one of the rare "Lipsticks" in a sea of "Butches". Apparently, we are quite the commodity. Got lots of stares; I guess they liked my lipgloss and my cleavage. My "date" assured me I was the best looking girl in there, as she snuggled up to my elbow. Gee, she really knows how to make a gal feel good.
The night was fairly uneventful, as neither of us scored, but we did get to see a great band called 3 a.m. Local, with three women singers, they harmonized on some great original work and also did some fantastic covers. It was definitely a relaxed, fun atmosphere and worth the trip downtown. Perhaps next time we'll be bold enough to dance. I need to help my friend out in any way possible, right? And what better way than helping her move on?
Oh, and just for your information, and I'm specifically talking to Mike here, real lesbians aren't anywhere NEAR as hot as you imagine them to be.
Not a one.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Australia Isn't Far Enough Away For These Bitches To Hide
I think every woman knows how Nad's started; some woman in Australia needed to find a cure for the hairy wildebeests she called her daughters. Both of them looked like Wolfman Jack on a bad day, so she created Nad's. I think the name comes from some combination of her daughters intials or names or something like that. No matter. Her product sucks.I bought this thinking, oh great. a wand! Wow. I can get the lip area, possibly a hair or two on the chin, maybe create a delicately arched brow. And how much easier can it be? It's a WAND.
Forget it. I might as well have poured molasses with Gorilla Glue mixed in on my face. I was a sticky green glob. Good thing this shit washes off with water! The box says that the reverse side of the wand includes a "handy" travel mirror. Who the hell would remove facial hair while moving? Do you really need a pocket sized travel mirror to remove facial hair??
I don't even see an 800 number on this box. Lucky for them, because I would call Australia in to tell them what I think of the hairy down under bitches that hawk this shit on TV.
And to think they sell something called "Naughty Nad's" for your nether regions. Do they really think I want to fashion a lightening bolt, as they indicate on the box, down THERE with THIS???
I'd wind up with a balding version of Flash Gordon; all patchy and crooked, and quite possibly find myself wondering how to get my thighs unstuck.
Friday, June 16, 2006
In The Kitchen With Eddie
I've recently found out a secret. A well hidden secret, I might add.
My boyfriend can cook. Really cook.
Meals.
From scratch.
WTF???
So far, I've heard that while in New Mexico visiting his parents, he has made Chicken Cacciatore, Chicken Pot Pie (with a crust from freakin' SCRATCH!!!), Steaks on the grill, pasta, breakfast....the list goes on and on.
I have never seen him make his own sandwich, let alone pie crust from scratch. In the truck, he can barely put a bag of popcorn in the microwave! Oh what a wicked web we weave, when we practice to deceive.
He is SO going to pay for this when I get back on the road. Now when I drive, he will be cooking!
Hmmm....I think I smell a cooking show in the works. Trucker Treats. Hey, does anyone have the number to The Food Network??
My boyfriend can cook. Really cook.
Meals.
From scratch.
WTF???
So far, I've heard that while in New Mexico visiting his parents, he has made Chicken Cacciatore, Chicken Pot Pie (with a crust from freakin' SCRATCH!!!), Steaks on the grill, pasta, breakfast....the list goes on and on.
I have never seen him make his own sandwich, let alone pie crust from scratch. In the truck, he can barely put a bag of popcorn in the microwave! Oh what a wicked web we weave, when we practice to deceive.
He is SO going to pay for this when I get back on the road. Now when I drive, he will be cooking!
Hmmm....I think I smell a cooking show in the works. Trucker Treats. Hey, does anyone have the number to The Food Network??
Thursday, June 15, 2006
If I Were In People Magazine...
I was reading the new issue of People with that new American Idol winner on the cover (Taylor Hicks - ick, I didn't like him) and they had this list of questions they asked, which I thought were kinda interesting. So here are my answers to the very same questions. Feel free to share your answers on your blog or in comments - I'm not tagging anyone. Here we go!
The first thing I notice about a man is...his height.
I like a man who is...tall, witty, smart and smells good.
I get weak when a man...is a good kisser, feathers his breath over my body just right and oozes sensuality.
My favorite love song is...don't have a favorite, but I love R & B or Jazz for "mood" music.
If I could warn a man about something, it would be...that I like to get my way.
A Northern (as opposed to Southern) woman always...expects more from her man.
The perfect kiss should be...more lip, less tongue.
A kiss shouldn't be...a tonsilectomy.
The best present I've ever gotten from a man is...the chance to truly be myself.
I'd marry a man if I could find one who...would ask me. OK, maybe not just anyone.
My first crush was...Jimmy Licardi. For some reason, the overalls didn't turn me off.
I got my first gray hair at...gray hair? What is that?
The most I've ever paid for a haircut is...$60
My worst habit is...Ed said I don't have any bad habits. I like that answer. I'm going with it.
I wish I were a better...listener.
My mother always told me...feelings aren't right or wrong; they just are.
Nothing relaxes me like...a movie, a nap or Barnes and Noble.
When I'm feeling down, I...talk to my family and friends. Incessantly.
My stage persona is different than the real me in that...I will often take on hurting myself over hurting others that I love or care about.
Men are crazy about my...breasts.
I can't wait to see...my breasts. No, I'm kidding. I can't wait to see the world.
In college I was...distracted and unfocused.
I'm sorry I didn't...finish college or pursue modeling.
I need to change...my aversion to exercise.
My favorite holiday is...Thanksgiving.
My words to live by are...Laugh. A lot.
The first thing I notice about a man is...his height.
I like a man who is...tall, witty, smart and smells good.
I get weak when a man...is a good kisser, feathers his breath over my body just right and oozes sensuality.
My favorite love song is...don't have a favorite, but I love R & B or Jazz for "mood" music.
If I could warn a man about something, it would be...that I like to get my way.
A Northern (as opposed to Southern) woman always...expects more from her man.
The perfect kiss should be...more lip, less tongue.
A kiss shouldn't be...a tonsilectomy.
The best present I've ever gotten from a man is...the chance to truly be myself.
I'd marry a man if I could find one who...would ask me. OK, maybe not just anyone.
My first crush was...Jimmy Licardi. For some reason, the overalls didn't turn me off.
I got my first gray hair at...gray hair? What is that?
The most I've ever paid for a haircut is...$60
My worst habit is...Ed said I don't have any bad habits. I like that answer. I'm going with it.
I wish I were a better...listener.
My mother always told me...feelings aren't right or wrong; they just are.
Nothing relaxes me like...a movie, a nap or Barnes and Noble.
When I'm feeling down, I...talk to my family and friends. Incessantly.
My stage persona is different than the real me in that...I will often take on hurting myself over hurting others that I love or care about.
Men are crazy about my...breasts.
I can't wait to see...my breasts. No, I'm kidding. I can't wait to see the world.
In college I was...distracted and unfocused.
I'm sorry I didn't...finish college or pursue modeling.
I need to change...my aversion to exercise.
My favorite holiday is...Thanksgiving.
My words to live by are...Laugh. A lot.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
The Great Equalizer
In addition to lounging around in the sun by the pool, I have also taken to getting color in the tanning salon. My friend and I go together and chit chat while waiting for our booth to open up.
First, we have a conversation that never wavers. It is always the same; she is very white and she doesn't tan (except she thinks she does, so shhhh, don't tell her). Every time we are sitting there waiting for our chance in the cancer booth, I turn to her and say, "Why don't you just give me your money and pretend you were in the booth for eight minutes?" And let me tell you, eight minutes is a craaazzzy day for her; usually, she can usually only stand six.
Yet she looks at me like I have three heads and I look at her the same way because I'm thinking, in the one of her three heads, she actually thinks she's getting tan.
After we have that conversation and a quick laugh, we people watch. Oh, the people there are to watch. It's amazing the cross section of society you see in the tanning salon. Men and women, young and old, fat and thin, tall and short, gay and straight and even the prim and proper to the pierced and tatooed.
I am truly amazed. I didn't think this many people went tanning. I saw an old man the other day that walked out looking like he had already been in the sun for 150 years and I was thinking, why?
But, since I'm one of them, I can't really pick too much. I just walk out of there knowing that I got my money's worth. I'm Italian and can tan from a desk lamp that's too bright.
The only pleasure I get is that the heat is over in twelve minutes and I don't have to go home afterwards and fish sand out of my bathing suit and ass crack.
First, we have a conversation that never wavers. It is always the same; she is very white and she doesn't tan (except she thinks she does, so shhhh, don't tell her). Every time we are sitting there waiting for our chance in the cancer booth, I turn to her and say, "Why don't you just give me your money and pretend you were in the booth for eight minutes?" And let me tell you, eight minutes is a craaazzzy day for her; usually, she can usually only stand six.
Yet she looks at me like I have three heads and I look at her the same way because I'm thinking, in the one of her three heads, she actually thinks she's getting tan.
After we have that conversation and a quick laugh, we people watch. Oh, the people there are to watch. It's amazing the cross section of society you see in the tanning salon. Men and women, young and old, fat and thin, tall and short, gay and straight and even the prim and proper to the pierced and tatooed.
I am truly amazed. I didn't think this many people went tanning. I saw an old man the other day that walked out looking like he had already been in the sun for 150 years and I was thinking, why?
But, since I'm one of them, I can't really pick too much. I just walk out of there knowing that I got my money's worth. I'm Italian and can tan from a desk lamp that's too bright.
The only pleasure I get is that the heat is over in twelve minutes and I don't have to go home afterwards and fish sand out of my bathing suit and ass crack.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
MacGyver To The Rescue
You know you're really missing your boyfriend when you're frantically trying to fix your vibrator at two in the morning by the light of the clock radio.
Thank God for duct tape.
Thank God for duct tape.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Dog Day Afternoon
This afternoon I was watching TV. Well, I thought I was the only one watching TV. As I flipped channels, Tatum Renee (the Rottweiler you see in the picture, whom we are "babysitting") decided that she wanted to watch Animal Planet.
She rushed to the television the minute she saw this creature move. Her nose was so close to the screen, I thought for a split second she smelled something. Then I thought, It's a TV, it doesn't have smell. Right? Her ass was in a perpetual wiggle, just waiting for the moment to launch, catch this thing and then most likely, drop it at my feet like a big 'ol prize.
Before I knew it, she was lunging at the screen. Barking like crazy, tongue hanging out of her mouth half crazed and panting like she was really going to get something.
And to think, they said if I left the house I could leave her alone watching TV. Can you imagine what I would have come home to???
She rushed to the television the minute she saw this creature move. Her nose was so close to the screen, I thought for a split second she smelled something. Then I thought, It's a TV, it doesn't have smell. Right? Her ass was in a perpetual wiggle, just waiting for the moment to launch, catch this thing and then most likely, drop it at my feet like a big 'ol prize.
Before I knew it, she was lunging at the screen. Barking like crazy, tongue hanging out of her mouth half crazed and panting like she was really going to get something. 
And to think, they said if I left the house I could leave her alone watching TV. Can you imagine what I would have come home to???Sunday, June 11, 2006
Tassimo Time
Who buys a coffee machine that only makes one cup of coffee?
Well, I just found out who; single women who live with cats. Or dogs. Someone that has no need for another cup of coffee.
Whether by choice or not, having a coffee machine that only spits out one at a time might just tell you something.
Either you're a Diva who hates to share or you're just really pathetic.
I'll let you know how it turns out. In the meantime, I need to go make myself a cup of coffee. The dogs are driving me nuts.
Well, I just found out who; single women who live with cats. Or dogs. Someone that has no need for another cup of coffee.
Whether by choice or not, having a coffee machine that only spits out one at a time might just tell you something.
Either you're a Diva who hates to share or you're just really pathetic.
I'll let you know how it turns out. In the meantime, I need to go make myself a cup of coffee. The dogs are driving me nuts.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Clowning Around
The other day on my way to the mall, there was an accident on the road I was traveling on, which they had shut down and instead were routing all of the traffic, at a snail's pace, through an adjacent neighborhood.
After saying a brief word to the heavens to make sure all of the accident victims were okay, I began to take in my surroundings. The neighborhood was really cute, with a lot of little fifties looking, bungalow type homes. It was a little run down, but it had a lot of potential.
After thirty molasses slow minutes of snaking through this neighborhood, we turned onto this road:
I was thinking, what a cute name for a street, and a smile came to my lips. Then I passed by this builiding, and if you can read the sign, you'll see it says "Clown Cars Repair Shop". Who would've known they had their own shop? I wonder what kind of problems clowns bring their cars in for? "I don't know what's wrong. I used to be able to get 26, 27 people in this car. Now I can only fit 18."
On the wall next to the bay door is this sign (sorry, a little blurry):
After saying a brief word to the heavens to make sure all of the accident victims were okay, I began to take in my surroundings. The neighborhood was really cute, with a lot of little fifties looking, bungalow type homes. It was a little run down, but it had a lot of potential.
After thirty molasses slow minutes of snaking through this neighborhood, we turned onto this road:
I was thinking, what a cute name for a street, and a smile came to my lips. Then I passed by this builiding, and if you can read the sign, you'll see it says "Clown Cars Repair Shop". Who would've known they had their own shop? I wonder what kind of problems clowns bring their cars in for? "I don't know what's wrong. I used to be able to get 26, 27 people in this car. Now I can only fit 18."
On the wall next to the bay door is this sign (sorry, a little blurry):
Interesting group of names. As I passed the building, I saw an old sign for The Shriner's Circus. I wonder how Mr. Nasty and No Buns fared at those events; I'm kinda thinking it's hard to even tell the difference between the clowns and the Shriners in the first place.
Seriously, people. Have you seen those Shriner hats???
Friday, June 09, 2006
Marlin Perkins Must Live In The Neighborhood
When I was a kid, way before Animal Planet ever existed, we had Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. I don't remember much about the show other than it highlighting wildlife as we've never seen it before; especially in the Bronx, where I grew up.
Here at my temporary digs, we have a lot of creatures in our cul-de-sac. Dogs we live with, cats that roam the neighborhood and an occassional mayfly that gets in the house and freaks me out because it looks like a mosquito on steroids.
Today I was watching the neighbor cats stalk some prey. This one, Amethyst, with the green fire in her eyes, had just captured a mole. I watched her sneak up on it, pounce and then carry it to a private area to torture it some more. She was looking around like the crazed feline that she is, making sure no one was watching. Oh, but I was. Check her out:
Then we have Frank, a pretty albeit devious one, just sitting by and watching the whole thing as I was. He was very intent on what was going on with 'ol Amethyst and I could tell by the way he continued to stare and then cock his head, that something was amiss.
Amethyst turned her back for a second, and boom! Frank moved in. As you can see, he picked up where Amethyst left off and took her prey back to his own yard. Didn't turn back, didn't show any remorse, just walked away like nothing happened.
I got a real kick out of watching this transpire. Down here in the South, I'm learning that being on the front porch makes for an interesting evening. And I'm also thinking Marlin is lurking around the corner laughing somewhere; and probably saying to himself, Boy, this chick is easily entertained, isn't she?
Here at my temporary digs, we have a lot of creatures in our cul-de-sac. Dogs we live with, cats that roam the neighborhood and an occassional mayfly that gets in the house and freaks me out because it looks like a mosquito on steroids.
Today I was watching the neighbor cats stalk some prey. This one, Amethyst, with the green fire in her eyes, had just captured a mole. I watched her sneak up on it, pounce and then carry it to a private area to torture it some more. She was looking around like the crazed feline that she is, making sure no one was watching. Oh, but I was. Check her out:
Then we have Frank, a pretty albeit devious one, just sitting by and watching the whole thing as I was. He was very intent on what was going on with 'ol Amethyst and I could tell by the way he continued to stare and then cock his head, that something was amiss.
Amethyst turned her back for a second, and boom! Frank moved in. As you can see, he picked up where Amethyst left off and took her prey back to his own yard. Didn't turn back, didn't show any remorse, just walked away like nothing happened. 
I got a real kick out of watching this transpire. Down here in the South, I'm learning that being on the front porch makes for an interesting evening. And I'm also thinking Marlin is lurking around the corner laughing somewhere; and probably saying to himself, Boy, this chick is easily entertained, isn't she?
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The Human Jeweler
The ability to take something rough and make it beautiful. Finding that inner glow. Catching the fire. Transforming it to bring out the best characteristics. This is what a lapidary does; this is how they transform stones, minerals and gems with a rough, dull exterior into a gleaming masterpiece.
The same thing can be done with people. Sometimes, you just meet a diamond in the rough. A person you know has more inside than they are letting you see. So, you carve and you probe and you buff. You find that little something special. Draw it out. Make it beautiful. Highlight it. Let it shine. Watch it begin to glow.
Even if that person doesn't know what is on the inside, if you are gifted, you can reach deep down and bring the fire out. Highlight their good qualities and minimize their flaws. Make them feel like they are worthy and precious. Cradle them in the Tiffany setting of your hands and mind and heart.
Be a human jeweler and watch how a diamond can truly become a girl's best friend.
The same thing can be done with people. Sometimes, you just meet a diamond in the rough. A person you know has more inside than they are letting you see. So, you carve and you probe and you buff. You find that little something special. Draw it out. Make it beautiful. Highlight it. Let it shine. Watch it begin to glow.
Even if that person doesn't know what is on the inside, if you are gifted, you can reach deep down and bring the fire out. Highlight their good qualities and minimize their flaws. Make them feel like they are worthy and precious. Cradle them in the Tiffany setting of your hands and mind and heart.
Be a human jeweler and watch how a diamond can truly become a girl's best friend.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
The Protective Roommate
This is my other housemate. She's lovey, playful and very protective. She ran right to the door today when she heard a strange car pull up in the driveway. Who? She wanted to know.It was a delivery of flowers, for me! The delivery woman wouldn't get out of the van. She was afraid.
I know Trace is a Rottweiler, but how could you possibly be afraid of that face??
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Tell The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
Why don't we ever really say what is going on in a relationship when talking to our friends or loved ones? What are we really afraid of?
I've had several friends lately who are having relationship issues or have broken up with their partners. And now, after the fact, I have been hearing stuff that I never knew existed.
Why don't we tell the whole truth when seeking advice, telling a story or even complaining about our relationships; is it because we don't want to make our partners look bad or we don't want to make ourselves look bad? I think it must be the latter. We must wonder to ourselves, what does it say about me?
If you happen to have a mate with unfavorable qualities, a mate that you obviously chose to date, live with or marry and someone finds out about qualities in them that have never really surfaced, what does that say about you? That you can't make good choices? That you put up with unacceptable behavior? That you didn't see the signs early on that you can see very clearly right now?
I've had several friends lately who are having relationship issues or have broken up with their partners. And now, after the fact, I have been hearing stuff that I never knew existed.
Why don't we tell the whole truth when seeking advice, telling a story or even complaining about our relationships; is it because we don't want to make our partners look bad or we don't want to make ourselves look bad? I think it must be the latter. We must wonder to ourselves, what does it say about me?
If you happen to have a mate with unfavorable qualities, a mate that you obviously chose to date, live with or marry and someone finds out about qualities in them that have never really surfaced, what does that say about you? That you can't make good choices? That you put up with unacceptable behavior? That you didn't see the signs early on that you can see very clearly right now?
I understand it's not always easy to tell the truth about these things, especially when the people you share most of these things with are your closest and dearest friends or your family members. They are already biased toward you and certainly wouldn't stand for someone not treating you as they think you should be treated.
The other person you have to worry about is yourself. You know when behavior is unacceptable. You know when you have asked someone to make some changes and they don't. You know what its like to cringe inside when your mate says or does something that you think makes you, or them, look bad. Yet, you let it happen. In fact, you not only let it happen, but you often cover up for it. You bring up all their good qualities or what they did for you recently that shows they "aren't really like that" or how much you love them and that it's okay when they have a bad day once in a while. It's not okay though, when that bad day never ends.
And then, you break up, and your view about them changes. You start to talk about all of the things you didn't like. The reasons you think the relationship ended. The things you will look for more closely in the next person. How crappy you felt because you knew it was happening and you let it. You are starting to have some clarity and you realize how it must look.
I understand that people are not perfect. That is precisely my point. It's not a bad thing to tell your confidants what is really going on, especially when you're confiding in them for a reason. If you think enough of them to even go to them for advice or guidance in the first place, you must trust their opinion on some level. Why not tell them everything that factors into the reason you are seeking them out? Tell them where your confusion or tension or ambivalence stems from. It's easier for them to guide you and it is easier on yourself if you have all of the facts before making a decision.
As it states in the Bible, "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." (John 8:32 NIV)
Monday, June 05, 2006
Sixty Percent Lesbian
As you know, I have been staying with a friend of mine for the past four days.
A girl. Friend.
A girl who happens to be a lesbian.
A lesbian-who-just-broke-up-with-her-girlfriend kind of lesbian.
Where is all of this going?
Well, today she informed me that I am sixty-percent lesbian. How she came up with that percentage I can only guess. She's already told me that I make a great wife. I have been cooking, leaving her notes in the morning for her to remember to take leftovers for lunch and even found it in my heart to accept the other woman in her life; her Rottweiler, Trace Jeanell.
Don't worry, I'm not crossing to the other side; that's all I need in addition to all the other shit my mind has been going through lately. I've already told her I can't handle being hit on by a woman right now, especially when my boyfriend is sooooo far away.
And yesterday, after we went tanning, I was planning on getting my hair cut a little shorter than it already is, but then she told me that if I did, I would be in the seventy-fifth percentile.
I guess I'll wait on that haircut and concentrate more on the hot guy who was cutting the neighbor's lawn yesterday.
A girl. Friend.
A girl who happens to be a lesbian.
A lesbian-who-just-broke-up-with-her-girlfriend kind of lesbian.
Where is all of this going?
Well, today she informed me that I am sixty-percent lesbian. How she came up with that percentage I can only guess. She's already told me that I make a great wife. I have been cooking, leaving her notes in the morning for her to remember to take leftovers for lunch and even found it in my heart to accept the other woman in her life; her Rottweiler, Trace Jeanell.
Don't worry, I'm not crossing to the other side; that's all I need in addition to all the other shit my mind has been going through lately. I've already told her I can't handle being hit on by a woman right now, especially when my boyfriend is sooooo far away.
And yesterday, after we went tanning, I was planning on getting my hair cut a little shorter than it already is, but then she told me that if I did, I would be in the seventy-fifth percentile.
I guess I'll wait on that haircut and concentrate more on the hot guy who was cutting the neighbor's lawn yesterday.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Just Bring Chips
My friend was telling me last week that she was invited to a party where she knew no one but the host. She asked if she could bring anything and after a pause, they said, "Oh, just pick up a bag of chips."
Chips? Did they say chips??? She turned to me, the hurt in her eyes glaringly evident. She was so offended. Could you blame her?
This is what happens when you are socializing in a new circle of friends; they don't know you. They are unaware of your talents. They don't know that you make a killer peach cobbler or whip up amazing spinach and artichoke dip or do things with cocktail weenies that border on illegal. It makes you feel so insignificant and invisible in a sense; who is going to notice the person who walks in with chips??
What the hell is next, asking her to bring a bag of ice? Now that is cold.
Chips? Did they say chips??? She turned to me, the hurt in her eyes glaringly evident. She was so offended. Could you blame her?
This is what happens when you are socializing in a new circle of friends; they don't know you. They are unaware of your talents. They don't know that you make a killer peach cobbler or whip up amazing spinach and artichoke dip or do things with cocktail weenies that border on illegal. It makes you feel so insignificant and invisible in a sense; who is going to notice the person who walks in with chips??
What the hell is next, asking her to bring a bag of ice? Now that is cold.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Flowers And Hand Painted Art
I am staying with another friend of mine this week and her house is just fabulous! Not only does she have gorgeous leather couches, cable TV and high speed internet but the bed I slept in last night was like being transported to heaven. I think I even I felt a pea; that is how much of a Princess I felt like in that bed!
I truly feel like I'm resort hopping. First, I was staying with my best friend at her "resort" home where the cooking is so good she could win a James Beard award, sitting on the front porch is like being at Tara listening to the sounds of the South and watching the world meander by and the laughter just flows like a broken faucet.
Now I have this; a richly decorated and spotlessly kept oasis of peace, centrally located to all things important, with ice cold air conditioning and a fully stocked fridge (except here, I actually have to cook myself! lol). In addition to that, the owner is a talented artist who makes everything from jewelry and silk drapery to paintings and websites. Just amazing.
Here is a sampling of her artwork:
And if you look again at the first picture, you will see a vase filled with the beautifully fragrant roses my Eddie sent me.
Either he really misses me or he's done something reeaaalllly wrong. Roses???
Gotta love him though, either way!
Friday, June 02, 2006
Everybody Is Everything
I don't like when people say, "you tend to dislike in others the same thing you dislike in yourself" because I don't think that's very accurate.
I dislike when people are chronically late. I am always on time.
I dislike people who do drugs. I have never tried them.
I dislike hypocrites. I am not one.
I dislike a know-it-all. I will come right out and say, "I don't know much about this, but I think..."
But then my Aunt, who I always thought was very wise, often says: "Everybody Is Everything"
Your girlfriend is being bitchy? Your best friend is moody? Your mother is a mensch? Your co-worker is a brown-noser? Your boyfriend is acting weird? Your classmate is getting on your nerves? Your husband is being an asshole? Your sister-in-law is saccharine sweet? Your mother-in-law doesn't like you?
At one time or another, as much as you think you are not any of the things you see in others, it is most likely inevitable that you are. Sometimes. Even if only once. However brief, it's probably there.
Everybody is everything.
(Really though, I'm never late.)
I dislike when people are chronically late. I am always on time.
I dislike people who do drugs. I have never tried them.
I dislike hypocrites. I am not one.
I dislike a know-it-all. I will come right out and say, "I don't know much about this, but I think..."
But then my Aunt, who I always thought was very wise, often says: "Everybody Is Everything"
Your girlfriend is being bitchy? Your best friend is moody? Your mother is a mensch? Your co-worker is a brown-noser? Your boyfriend is acting weird? Your classmate is getting on your nerves? Your husband is being an asshole? Your sister-in-law is saccharine sweet? Your mother-in-law doesn't like you?
At one time or another, as much as you think you are not any of the things you see in others, it is most likely inevitable that you are. Sometimes. Even if only once. However brief, it's probably there.
Everybody is everything.
(Really though, I'm never late.)
Conscious But Very Disoriented
Tonight while watching The Learning Channel (why, I don't know), we heard about a crash where they described the driver as being "conscious but very disoriented."
I whipped my head around wondering why on earth they were talking about me, as this is how I've spent virtually the past three weeks; and according to my friend, how she has spent almost all of her life.
Apparently, I've been taking on quite a bit lately and possibly have gotten crushed under the weight of it all. Now that things have let up a bit, I'm still a little dazed.
I don't know which is worse, my condition or the next guy on TV they were talking about; the one who was "stunned and badly shaken."
I whipped my head around wondering why on earth they were talking about me, as this is how I've spent virtually the past three weeks; and according to my friend, how she has spent almost all of her life.
Apparently, I've been taking on quite a bit lately and possibly have gotten crushed under the weight of it all. Now that things have let up a bit, I'm still a little dazed.
I don't know which is worse, my condition or the next guy on TV they were talking about; the one who was "stunned and badly shaken."
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Take Note
What does it say about a man who likes the movie, The Notebook?
For me?
Kinda makes me want to marry him.
For me?
Kinda makes me want to marry him.
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