Puke. Don't tell anyone I am that caring, ok?

I Can't Believe I Used To Let You Touch Me!

This is usually the reaction that I have when bumping into an old flame. Actually, it's a little more graphic, but in the effort to be a lady-yeah, right. So, today, S and I are skipping around, purchasing crappy foodstuffs for Family JunkFood Night, when woosh!- there went a black Corvette. Hmmmmm...it was (duh, dum, DUHHHH) my former love, the Mattress Giant. I picked that name, for the record. Or, Captain Tripod. ( Boys and their egos love me) So, there he goes. Now, mind you I haven't seen this man in months. And here's the story:
So, Tripod is engaged to this woman now, M. M is nice enough, and I have never really had an issue with her. Well, that's not true. Mr. Tripod told me some things about her that she said and did behind my back, but Tripod has a big mouth- as you will soon see- and I decided to forgive and forget before I met her. Met her, she's cool, yada yada yada....One day, while I am whacked out on drugs and comforting Tripod through the annual breakup with this woman, I say "I am gonna let ya go, I'm getting that loving feelin' that has been long gone." He's hip, and disconnects. Because he loves her- she still hasn't gotten that, I guess. So, I am taking mondo drugs, and once I clear- I emailed him to say, "Well, I can't believe I said that. It's not true. Don't sweat it. I was whacked. Hope you can forgive." He does, and "Life is good." He mentions this story to her a week later and she freaks. I am now "disrespectful" and he still wants to sleep with me? ( I was not there, this is all second hand) I can't blame her, but yet I can...anyway, so Tripod decides to never speak to me again. Whatever. Now, on one hand, I can say wow- she is wrong. I know I am not a threat. She should know this too. Now, on the other hand, Tripod told me a bunch of the stuff he told her about me, and he should have never done that. He told me she was insecure and if he had told me that shit about his ex while we were together, I would be too. So, in short- he done me wrong, and he done her wrong, and she done me wrong, but I can see all the sides. Just to recap: Although I am not angry at either one, I think the whole thing is fucked and I am glad I no longer allow these things to occur in my life. I love my halcyon days.

So, whoosh. there he goes. Now, I am waiting to see what I will feel. I was placing my big money on anger, with the small change on pity. Not pity for being with her- nothing like that- pity for the dramarama he allows to be presented before him. That has nothing to do with her- his own friends say horrible things about him and screw him. Poor guy. So, whoosh. I feel....................................love. A big wave of love. I was shocked. Am I evolving? There was hope for his happiness, and love all over. I remember how happy I used to be watching him smile. Even when it was at M. You see, it wasn't about me. I loved this person so purely and without motive. Apparantly, when you love someone like that, it does not go away, no matter what they do, or how angry you get. I was blissful just too see him alive, and whoosing as I always remembered him. I hope they are both happy, that they have indeed married, and are building their house. I hope his son is content, and I hope he is perfectly at peace with the world. And that's how I know that he is the first man I have ever loved so completely......I felt love.

Hi Ho...Hi Ho, Hi Ho, Hi Ho...

I made it through my first day back at the office. Wow, it wore me out! I immediately walked into a huge hug from Deloris. What a welcome. Everyone was so kind, and asking how I was throughout the day. I feel stupid- I actually didn't expect to be so tired. It was nice to be back in my cube, swamped with Huttig, and listening to NPR all day. I realized that since my time out was on the FMLA, I still have like a week and a half of vacation time this year! Woohoo.

That gives me plenty of time to take Maddie on our mini-road trip. I was talking with her a few weeks ago, and the topic turned to drive-in movies. She obviously has never been to one. I believe that the only ones left are in North STL county- over my dead body!- and one in Belleville- what's the point?- so...I am taking her to the small town where I spent my childhood days. We will catch a movie there, and I will give her a tour through my twisted youth. Sounds fun, right?

Oooooooooooh! btw- I am so smooth. I gently let Dan down the other night, explaining the most respectable reason why I could not see him again. I received an email from him this morning. I hesitated opening it, but obviously I did. This man is a class act, and I am so good. He wrote that I was so wise beyond my years, and of course he understood why I could not go out with him again. However, I am very beautiful, and if I change my mind I know where to find him. Damn, I am good.

I finished my book last night- Devil in the White City. It was incredible. I have reclaimed my reading habits, and I just cannot seem to get enough! Back onto Memoirs of a Geisha. I am only half way through....

Good night, all. Five-thirty comes early.

Life Tastes Good...And So Do I

Well, life is full of details and complications. That's part of what makes it so fascinating. I return to work tomorrow morning, and I although I am not thrilled about returning to my company- I am very excited to return (fully) to my life. I am looking forward to spending more money at R-O-R! I blew another wad of Visa in there yesterday. It seems as though I cannot enter that store without purchasing an entire bagful of clothing. How nice for me. Yesterday, I found a new purse, black top, silver skirt, blue funky capri pants, a button down blue shirt to go with it, and the most incredible cream colored satin pants! They sound hideous, but they are not. If you have picked up an issue of Vogue in the last six months, you know the ones I am talking about.

My dating has been rocky. I went out with Dan the other night- nice guy, nice Rolex, but not up to my speed. Charles is a total hottie, but we have nothing in common. The thing that is so frustrating- my main problem, and it's not a problem- is that I cannot settle. It would be spitting in the eye of my very soul. I have no problem getting dates- I have a new stalker at the Grind, even- but finding the right flavor is so difficult. Must continue with the taste testing!

I consistantly look back at the men I have subjected myself to, and I must ask myself "why?". I haven't figured that out yet, but I know that I am supremely kosher in the moment. I find myself actually apathetic to dating. When the right one comes along, I am sure I will begin barking again. What the last date did for me was sublime- I have my mojo working. I have strange men all over me know- everywhere I go. It's kinda cool. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be me, and now I am recognizing myself again. I had been so caught up with Steve, and my hospitalization, and my almost-Cushings, and my illness- I had no mojo. Ta-daaaa!

Just a Few Incongruent Words....

- Who is playing the Rib America festival at 4pm tomorrow? I'll give you a hint. And I quote, "Who told you women like men with no money? Release it, boy!" Why, it's none other than Morris Day and the Time. I am down in front to see Jerome Benton tomorrow. Diggity Dank.

- I am returning to work on Tuesday. Mind you, that the most important reason to work is to purchase fabulous clothing at R-O-R.

-I would like to send out a few thank you's to the people that have helped me so much in the last two months- E: You are a walking inspiration of motherhood and femininity in general. S: I adore you to the teeth; and if you need to fall, I am ready to catch you. What could I ever do with out you? B: There are so many nights I would have cried myself to sleep if you hadn't been playing with my hair. MG: Thanks for teaching me how not to behave, through your shining example. D: Thanks for popping up and lifting my spirits, please come back! R: Thanks for making me blow lattes out of my nose at 2 am, more times than I can count.

- It is my supreme goal to remember all that I have learned in the last two months:

Life is a playground. Really.
It's probably not about you or me.
I will regret the most the things that I did not do in this life.
It's always important to say the things you never said, but you can always do it in a nicer way.
It's ok to say no.
It's ok to say yes.
It's ok to do something merely for the fun of it, when it is void of reason or logic, as long as no one gets hurt.
The best thing that you could ever do is truly realize how incredible you are, right now, just the way you are.
Say "I love you" and say it like you mean it.
Think about someone else. What could you do for XXXXX to make their day a little better?

It's probably not a good idea to blog while you are shit-canned, but here goes...

I had a fabulous day, and I had a perfect evening. I sat on my patio with an old pal and a bottle of wine. He also gave me a new quote to use- and oh, will I use it..."I'd rather suck c$ck than breathe!" Why didn't I come up with that?

So, today- I cleaned, I mothered, I drank. Woohoo. Tomorrow I have a date with a gentlemen I call fortydork. He is wealthy, somewhat charming, and apparently funny- but he looks like he'd work with my father. I am meeting him for martinis, and I am looking forward to it. I have a little black dress with just the proper amount of cleavage, and the little black CFMP's... I am so hot- why didn't anyone bother to tell me? With my ultra-healthy system, I glow. Almost like pregancy, but without the fat. Check me out. I hope I like him as much as he is going to like me.

Smug? Did I hear someone say smug? No, my dear- it's simply wine and the attitude that all of us fabulous women should carry when approaching yet another prey..I mean, man. Heh.

Status Quo

I went to see Garden 9 last night at the Battle of the Bands. Man, they were smokin! I was so proud of my big brother, and everyone did so well. I played soccor mom and took pics of everyone- I figured that R would want it for the website. Of course- they won the contest! Woohoo.

I only have a few days left before I get back to work. Ugh. Must...work...to purchase....cool clothing...Heh.

I heard from my buddy, D, today. He finally sent me an email. I miss him, and I was hoping he would move back to STL. I could use some more testosterone in my life. He is choosing-his-own-adventure, playing the Maverick as he jumps around the country. I am glad he has the opportunity to do this.

I have a date with a man named Dan on Saturday. We are meeting at this ritzy little place, and I am looking fwd to it. It's been a long time since I have gone on a date, and it will do me good to dress in heels again. However, I have noticed that I am getting WAY too comfortable with being alone. I miss being with someone at times, but it's not as though I am lonely. Have you ever been by yourself for so long that when it comes to sex, you believe that having someone else there will just throw you off? Heh. I do. Right now, I think I am the best lover I ever had!!!

That's all for me, folks. I will get to something more interesting soon.

The Bitch Is Back

So, here is the scoop- I am feeling great! I have no idea exactly what has created the turn-around, but whatever I am doing is working for me. I am returning to work next week. I am sure that my recovery is due to a number of factors, so I must continue my plan. But, baby, I AM BACK!

I had the most fabulous weekend. My brother and I grabbed an old chum for a night at the Grind. My friend, M, invited a friend of hers to come along. She thought perhaps he and I would hit it off. Nope- he's a great guy and rather attractive- but we had absolutely zilch in common. It happens. We ended up at breakfast afterward, and laughed ourselves to sleep.

The next day, my buddy and I went shopping at my new favorite store, and I bought three new additions to my wardrobe. We then headed to my brother's band rehearsal, and man they got tight really quickly! I am very excited about Wednesday night. They sound great.

Today, I spent time cleaning and I feel so on the ball- life is just sweet. All that has happened in the last few months has made me a better person. I am surrounded by those that I truly want in my life, and I feel as though I have the hard stuff figured out. Bring on the world!

The Bitch Is Back

So, here is the scoop- I am feeling great! I have no idea exactly what has created the turn-around, but whatever I am doing is working for me. I am returning to work next week. I am sure that my recovery is due to a number of factors, so I must continue my plan. But, baby, I AM BACK!

I had the most fabulous weekend. My brother and I grabbed an old chum for a night at the Grind. My friend, M, invited a friend of hers to come along. She thought perhaps he and I would hit it off. Nope- he's a great guy and rather attractive- but we had absolutely zilch in common. It happens. We ended up at breakfast afterward, and laughed ourselves to sleep.

The next day, my buddy and I went shopping at my new favorite store, and I bought three new additions to my wardrobe. We then headed to my brother's band rehearsal, and man they got tight really quickly! I am very excited about Wednesday night. They sound great.

Today, I spent time cleaning and I feel so on the ball- life is just sweet. All that has happened in the last few months has made me a better person. I am surrounded by those that I truly want in my life, and I feel as though I have the hard stuff figured out. Bring on the world!

My Life as a Suicide Bomber or Bill Clinton's Escapade at the Fence

I have got to get this whacked-out dream off of my chest. (Is this what sleep is like for you, MadMan?)

The first thing that I remember is that I was kidnapped from my desk at work. No one hurt me, but I was forced to wear what I would describe as an orthopedic tool belt. It was grey, and bulky, and full of...bombs! Woohoo. I then had to go back into work, while few people were still on the office, and transfer a load of files. The files were marked A-H. I found shortcuts on my desktop to the files. All I had to do was to get my boss to agree to transfer the files, and if he did not I would have to do it anyway. No matter what- I am screwed! I am a patsy, or a piece of organic shrapnel.

I get to my desk, and begin transferring the files, which are actually some odd type of Barbie doll. Some of the files are contaminated, so they are not actually Barbies, but more like an Aldi's Barbie that your grandmother would buy you with her last dime. So, now, I have to go to the "compound" of these strategic geniuses and explain that I am sending all that we have got, but it's not going to be what they expect. They hold me hostage until they figure out what to do. After a long while, they find out that I hate George Bush. Well, this is apparantly their entire motive, and I am released of my bombs and live with this mini- militia. All of these psychos, mind you, look like a group of suburban families. Kids are frolicking, and the lawn is well mowed. I realized that all of this planning and plotting terrorism has made me very hungry. I head into the back yard for some BBQ.

The BBQ is down a gently sloping hill and to my left, and on the hill to my right, is my brother. What in the hell is he doing here? I head down to talk to him, and I pause- because he's golfing, of course! He's got a sand wedge out, and chipping on the grass. I walk over and give him a huge hug, and he begins telling me jokes. We are laughing, and a golf cart pulls up about 30 feet to our left. A couple of guys get out, wearing mardi gras beads. They begin strolling toward the BBQ. One of the gentlemen shouts out a joke to my brother about his swing, and I realize it's Bill Clinton! My jaw dropped as I look at my brother, R, and he is laughing as though they are old friends. I guess they are. How come R never mentioned this before? Bill looks at me and we are all still joking, and he gives me this thumbs up, with both hands. I look at him, and shoot him with my fingers, "Right back at ya!". I have no idea what in the hell is going on. All I know is, I am no longer about to explode, my brother is buddies with Bill Clinton, and I still don't have my damned ribs.

I will tell you now- THIS IS WHERE IT GETS REALLY WEIRD. (think: disclaimer) I grab some ribs, mingle and talk to everyone, including Bill. He is exactly as I imagined him- hilarious and laid back. A few couples go off to "swing". Wow. I am really shocked by this, and that in and of itself surprises me. Then some weird bell rings and it's time for the women to "line up". All of the women- no, I sat this one out- lined up behind a six foot tall privacy fence near the main driveway. This fence had slats that were a couple inches apart. Every woman pressed herself against the fence, and exposed herself through the fence. I mean EX-POSED. Somehow, they managed to actualy fit their labia between the slats. The men lined up on the other side, and found a fence "sprouting" all of this genitalia. The men then walked along the fence, in this bizzare promenade, stroking each one. I am stunned, too alarmed to do anything but watch.

I walk back into the main house. I am now in a closet. There are three doors around me; and everything is painted white. All of the doors are locked, and they are old doors with keyholes. Each keyhole has something different pained above it. One reads "Men". One reads "Women", and one reads "Men and Women". I look in the women one first, and there are a couple of very unattractive, overweight women "getting it on". I peek in the keyhole marked "Men and Women"- another unattractive couple, of opposite gender. At this point, I am all too wise to peek in the keyhole marked "Men." I open another door that I did not see upon my initial inspection, and it opens into a corridor. I dash down this hall, finding nothing but more closets like the one I just found myself in. Finally, I reach the end of the hall, only to find one last door in front of me. I hesitate, but finally open it. And, suddenly, there I sit at the breakfast bar in the kitchen of the main house. Clinton is telling me another joke, and pouring another glass of Pinot Grigio for me. I am laughing so hard, I am trying not to let it burst out of my nose.

The End.

Now, what in the hell was that? I actually have a good idea, but if anyone has any great interpretations- feel free to let me know!

Round Three for Me

I am pondering the impossible. I am on my third day of vitamins and detox, and I feel better. I was attacked by a viscious migrane last night, but I awoke to a halcyon day, and I am feelin' fine! I had the most unusual dreams last night- of course I did, I was on the patch! The dreams were so good, however, I woke up early, and made a futile attempt to return to them. One of the dreams included flying, which is always a good sign. I have never lifted off the ground in a dream, and I understand it to be common among happy, successful people.

So, it looks as though this might be the third day in a row that I have an almost-normal day. I am very excited. Off to take my pills.

CFS Update

..as if anyone cared. This is certainly the most dull part of my life.

I blew through a bunch of research today, including diet and supplement info. I armed myself with pages and pages of info, and headed out to the nearest reputable health food store, The Natural Way. The staff is always so helpful there, and today was no exception. I am now outfitted with a detox program, a diet, an amazing amount of SoloRay bottles, and plans to cleanse my colon next week. Woohoo. On Friday, I am going to talk to Dr. H about acupuncture and liver chi remedies. Life is so fun. I had a good day today, and I am hoping all of this will take a positive turn once I blow out my colon...I mean, toxins.

A Quickie

I only have a moment, but I wanted to send a big ol' 'Blessed Be' to all of the mothers out there today. We are the gifts of the earth, and I before I leap into my own vagina monologue, I must depart. But, I am hoping that someone did for you today what I did for my own mother: I hoped someone draped you in gifts that they cannot afford! You deserve it!

My gosh. I haven't blogged in a while! My bad.

Nothing incredibly exciting is going on in my life, and I am so content to keep it that way. I am spending my days setting goals and working towards them, accomplishing all that I can for the present and future alike. I sleep like a bear now, but my dreams are filled with the oddest of scripts. Last night, I remember falling in love with Tony Soprano at a textile factory, and helping out the "just made" man he left in charge. What in the hell is that about? I know I once said of Mr. Soprano, "He could throw me around and feed me pasta anytime! ", but I didn't expect a kooky dream of that sort.

I am possibly going to change my major, and if I decide that I will be moving my blog in the next week or so. I can actually get paid for these semi-random thoughts, and why not?

Wednesday, the 21st, my brother's new band (Garden9: smokin hot) will be playing for the first time at a local haunt. I am very excited. Their guitar player is fabulous, but I happen to be overjoyed with the drummer. He is not only tight, but he has an innate sense of dynamics that bring the perfect amount of dramatic flair to each song. The boy's chops are perfectly in line now, and it's simply downright impressive. I have spent quite a few nights with Ron and A, who is the manager of Garden 9, going over the photos I took, along with the website and promo-pack. Ron has even plotted a surprise for the audience. It's going to be a fabulous night. In fact, we have a meeting tonight with a possible director for the video. Woohoo.

Now, why does the banner ad above my blog refer to Social Anxiety? Does this sound like social anxiety?

Hey! Oz of the Banner Ads! Over here! I said, Chronic Fatige Syndrome! You could have pulled out several other things out of my last blog, and yes, in some odd manner, this is a personal reflection upon not only myself, but this tiny amount of crap that I publish on a regular basis.

Are you slow? Let Auntie Mimi help you out then...maybe a banner ad for "chronic masturbators"? What other words can we put together? "Vibrant Rhinoplasty"? How's that?

'With God As My Witness...'


Well, the news is in. Bets will no longer be accepted. I have.....(drum roll please)....Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Woohoo. Confession: I always thought these people were a little on the lazy side. So, it seems that this mystery illness has been waiting inside my body for goddess-only-knows how long now, and the wonderful Norwalk virus gave it an "all clear" to complete its hostile takeover. So, with my body at DefCon 2, let's take the time for a little recap, shall we? I was a beautiful, vibrant, energetic, ambitious woman that ran until the wee hours as needed. I am now a beautiful, vibrant, lethargic slug that has about 4 hours of energy per day. I am just kidding. I must admit that I am pissed over this.

You see, the idea of having Cushing's Syndrome (or PinCushing's as my brother so affectionately refers to it) wasn't so bad. I was going to be down for a while, a little surgery through my face, hopefully they were going to throw in a complementary nose job, and I would recover and my life would resume. Oh, no. This is for life. They cannot diagnose it, anyone could claim that I am "faking"; and there is no certainly no cure, no magic pill, no true course of treatment. I get to eat well, sit in the sun, laugh a lot, lightly exercise, etc.- all without the promise that it will help a teeny weeny bit. Oh! And it's forever. Now, I could get better in a month, or five, or five years, or never.

Mark my words, fair people of cyberspace- I will not go down like this. In fact, this does not even resemble what I think of when I hear the words "go down". Heh. I refuse- absolutely, unequivocally re-fucking-fuse to live the rest of my years in this state. I will begin my plan of attack. So far, I have ruled out masturbation therapy. It just doesn't seem to work much.

Today's Rant: You, Too, Can Choose Not to Be a Pathetic MotherFucker...

I have a particular hatred and prejudice. No, it's not for those of a different religious belief or skin color. It's simply for pathetic people. You know these whiny bastards- chainsmoking and sitting every night with their external locus of control, clinging to some addiction and mentally pissing on themselves in a fetal position.

I listen to these people..."My mother beat me so I can't _____. My boyfirend spent all my money and I had to file for bankruptcy so I can't _____. I would like to _____, and be a worthwile, productive member of society, but I can't _____, because ______." Ugh. This is a mantra for these people! And everything is someone else's fault. Well, aren't you just the emotional equivalent of a T-Rex, dangling your useless arms in front of you, and roaring in anger as life passes you by!

You can build an entire resume of disasters and "I can'ts". But, please. Do me a favor. When you are done crying over yourself and your wounded inner child- please go to an AA meeting and hear the story of some guy that is cleaning up his life, making ten dollars an hour, and is in therapy to cope with the fact that his own uncle raped him and set him on fire. Now, that's some shit. You still feeling wounded and wronged by the world? Congratulations! You're a sociopath. Enjoy your new deskplate and title.

The fact is, we all have shit to cope with. I do; you do; so does the poor bastard living next door. Get over it. Chances are, you don't have the amazing trauma that you think you do. And, please, you sad little man, recognize the fact that it was probably your own lack of rational choices that caused your world to explode in the first place. Take some responsibility for that! Haven't you ever seen a physically wrenched paraplegic paint with his toes? Do you think he's on his teeny weeny pity pot? I can dial a phone with my toes, if need be, but I certainly cannot copy a Monet with any of my limbs.

Single mother? Wah. I have a friend that's a single mother who enjoys the adventure of numerous brain surgeries. That's stress. Single mother of two? Poor thing. She has three well-cared for children, and she wakes up every day looking at another cycle of living in constant, relentless pain. There is always someone out there that has it worse than you, so don't even try to run game.

Hate your job? It's the American way, my friend. Everyone does. Place your resume out on Monster and shut your pie hole. Can't get a date? I am sure there are people out there that are desperate and much uglier than you! Someone will say yes, eventually.Think of it as merely a numbers game. If that doesn't work, god gave you two hands. ( Unless you are that guy that paints with his feet! )

If you are one of these people, then please, get over yourself. If however, you need to cling to your misery like a newborn babe to a poisonous breast, give Darwinism a little push and kill yourself now. Really. However, let me give you one little tip to assist you in your profound decision: Life is one continuous kick in the teeth. That's the truth. The trick is to learn enough to cope and have a party between ass-kickings.

What's a Nice Boy Like You Doing In A Place Like This?

So, here's the issue du jour- my beloved friend, A, and I aren't merely friends anymore. We haven't been for about a week and a half now, laughing at our utter resistance to define what is taking place.

My problem is that I seem to have an issue with men that do not carry with them the slightest sense of danger. It's kind of like Steve Martin says in My Blue Heaven, "I like my girls a little more.....dirty or somethin' " Could I honestly still be so immature that I am still attracted to the "bad boys"? Damn. I thought I was over this. I am too old. I know that the only two men that I hyave really loved were both rather worthless at times. Conceited, with an overabundance of ego...but come on. The humor lies in the fact that I have come to know A well enough that although I could never see this man hurting me, he is certainly a bad boy in all the good ways! Yum.

The question remains, however- is a sense of risk an integral part of my attraction to the male species? Does the slightest possibility of the wrong man send my brain reeling into a slam-dunk of chemicals, causing my netheregions to continuously fire in a frenzy of anticipation?

Wish me luck, girls and boys- I am seeing my aforementioned pal this evening. More to come.

To Both of My Readers:

I would like to announce, as so many others have- thanks S- of my secondary blog- which is autobiographical. There is nothing to see yet, but you will be able to find it at

http://www.cosmicbunnyhole.blogspot.com

Enjoy!

Just a quick warning to fellow bloggers out there- I just read what is undeniably the most jacked-up blog I have ever run across.

The one nice thing about this hand-typed wonderland of crap is that it forced me to recognize that while I am certainly no door prize of sanity, I am stable and well if standing next to this walking catastrophe. Enjoy, but be careful out there, my friends!