My Ramblings...

I've packed it up and I'm headed west...

2006-06-28T13:59:00.000-05:00

Well, it's time to be anonymous again.

I'm leaving blogger.

Old entries will remain.

If you know me, don't ask me where I went. I have been censoring myself, and I don't want to do that anymore.

If you don't know me - meaning you have never, ever, ever met me in real life - and you want to know where I've gone, email me. Tell me who you are and your web address and I can email you the link. There isn't much there yet...

Thanks for understanding.

Batten down the hatches...

2006-06-21T08:39:00.000-05:00

This is what our radar looks like.

Eet ees so eekciting! Wish I had my weather radio.

Yes, I am a weather dork.

Birthday plus Friends equals Beer and Shots divided by Not Such a Good Idea After All

2006-06-20T09:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was Mr.'s birthday. We began celebrating Friday. Dinner and a few drinks. No biggie. Saturday was riding and to the dealership where I copped out on the whole gift giving surprise thing and just told Him to get the riding jacket He's been wanting. Later there was a naked pool party at our friend's house. Well, the girls were naked. The guys stood outside the pool's fence, leaning on it, sipping their beverages and making comments here and there. Fun was had by all. Sunday was the whole Father's day thing, then out to dinner again and in bed early.

Monday, however, one of our friends called and said he wanted to by Mr. a beer for His birthday. So we went to the used-to-be-our-favorite-bar-but-there-is-so-much-drama-it's-not-
so-much-anymore-but-we-still-go-because-our-friends-are-there bar.

Let me just state that it is not possible, at least among the company we were amongst, for a man to only have ONE beer on his birthday. Because once one person says "Hey! Get him a beer on me for his birthday!" the other guys hear (and actually the first one was bought by a girl but she's my friend so it's cool) they say "The next one is on me!" Then more friends happen to show up (this never happens on a Monday!) and pretty soon they decide that shots are in order, and if you are Mr. this is bad news, because while it sounds fun, this is only because you have FORGOTTEN that you don't drink shots and it is also Monday and you have to work tomorrow and then your wife says "I have they keys, you are SO not driving home". And that is hard because your man pride does not allow you to feel that it is ok for your wife to drive when you are along, but then you drink the shot and your forget that part, so, what the hell.

Rinse and repeat. And then again. Do not bother to drink the same shots. Drink three different kinds, more than one of some of them. Engage in conversations that you MAY not remember the next day. Walk outside to see if it is still raining. Suddenly look at your wife, after she notices the sweat on your brow and say, "Are you ready to go?" Get up and hug ALL of the people in the bar or shake their hands, except for that weird guy down at the end that you don't know. Walk, with a slight unsteadiness, to the vehicle. Successfully enter, but then try to fasten the safety belt into your cell phone case. Giggle. Request air conditioning and roll down the window. Realize that you don't really feel so good. Make it home without the tossing of the cookies. Hit the other vehicle in the garage with your door because you tell your wife "I can do it" when she says "wait and let me help you". Say "Oh, that sucks." Balance on the other vehicle to get inside the house. Pause several times while trying to make it up the stairs, again refusing assistance. Remember that it is garbage night. Continue with the man pride and insist on taking the garbage out. Succeed! Make a funny face after accepting painkillers and water that isn't quite cold enough. Request Gatorade. Enter "I love you man!" mode. Allow wife to remove your boots, even though "you can do it." Exclaim, "I know what you're thinking! 'Look at my drunk husband.' I shouldn't have done that. I don't like this at all!" Accept offer to go outside into the fresh air. Come back in the house and make it to the bathroom and again, retain the cookies. Come to bed. Express frustration at not being able to perform loving relations on your birthday.

Zonk out.

Poor guy. He is hurting today. This is not normal for Him. He never feels sick after just a few drinks. He had a lot more than a few drinks. I always feel bad the next day after just having a couple. He never seemed to understand my lower tolerance. I'm sure He's getting razzed by all the guys at work. Constructions workers are ruthless. I feel partially at fault. I should have discouraged the shots. But, it was entertaining. Hee!

Tonight we will sit on the couch and watch TV. If He makes it through the day. And I won't even nudge Him when He falls asleep in the middle of a show.

What'd ya say, sonny?

2006-06-08T08:21:00.000-05:00

ESC linked to this. I heard about it on the news a while back, but didn't think anything of it. It's true. My right ear stops hearing after 15,000. Left is good through 16,000.

*sigh*

I think there may be hearing aids in my future.

Maybe I'll just get one of those little trumpet thingies like they have in the old Looney Tunes cartoons and hold it up to my ear... "Huh? What was that? Can't you speak up?"

You might be my white trash neighbor...

2006-06-06T11:42:00.000-05:00

"Do you like our umbrella?"

"Um. Yeah. Nice."

"We found it in the trash."

"..."

Not that there is anything wrong with a little garbage picking. Whatever. Some people throw out good stuff. It does make for entertaining, over-the-fence conversations.

Like this:

Neighbor: "Hey, I got a new lawnmower."

R: "Yeah?"

N: "Yeah, this guy was just throwing it away. You remember Tim 'the Toolman' Taylor?"

R: "Yeah."

N: "Well, remember his tools? Binford?"

R: "Yeah..."

N: "Well, that's what this tractor is. A Binford. I didn't know that was a real company!"

R: "Um. I don't think it is."

N: "Well, that's what it says on the side. Binford."

A little while later, after genius is back in his house, R looks through the fence at the "new tractor". You know what it said?

BRADFORD.

These people are brilliant.

This conversation was after the conversation he initiated about their new dog. A dachshund. A THOROUGHBRED dachsund. Which could work, I guess, but usually refers to a HORSE, no?

It was before his daughter had her baby because they REDUCED labor.

And it was also before his 15 year old son was taken away in handcuffs and shackles by two sheriffs last week.

I'm so not even kidding.

It's like Jerry Springer is housing his guests in my back yard.

Yeah I got nothin...

2006-06-01T15:02:00.000-05:00

Just didn't like seeing a large view of my neglected nail polish.

I've got nothing to say right now, a miracle to some. On vacation, trying to relax and enjoy myself, but not quite able to stop feeling sorry for myself because I'm on vacation but I'm still at home. Eh, maybe next year I'll see the beach. And a pool with a swim-up bar.

Ahhhh.....

Violation on HNT

2006-05-25T10:19:00.000-05:00

#2 of the sandal oath: I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.

Oopsie.

Brass Tacks

2006-05-25T09:55:00.000-05:00

I can happily say that Mr. has never had an issue with leaving the toilet seat up. He was already toilet-trained when I got Him, most likely at a very early age by His mother. For this I am very thankful. However, every once in a while, He has a tendency to put the toilet LID down. I have never understood this practice. I am not sure if He is afraid something 'didn't go down' and He doesn't want it exposed to the elements or on display, or if maybe He just accidentally grabbed it with the seat and they both went down together. Regardless, at 5 AM this morning, I was reminded of the valuable toilet lesson my mother taught me at an early age (my dad wasn't quite as toilet trained). That lesson was to LOOK BEFORE YOU SIT. Especially when you've just gotten out of bed, and didn't turn on the bathroom light because HOLY COW there is nothing worse than a cold bathroom floor and a bright bathroom light reflecting off the mirrors at 5 AM when you have to pee. Well, one thing worse and that worse thing would be falling into the toilet because someone left the seat up. Not quite as disturbing, but definitely confusing is to sit down and think "What is that? It is fuzzy. Did I forget to shave? My whole ass is feels warm." only to realize the lid is down and you are sitting on the fuzzy toilet lid cover. Why DO so many women, myself included, insist on those fuzzy toilet lid covers anyway? Is it for situations such as this? It would have been much more startling to sit down on an uncovered cold lid. Yikes! So remember ladies, always look before you sit, even if your man is well trained in that area. You just never know.

There was a scary looking bird perched in the pine tree by my deck all evening. Every once in a while, it would flutter its wings and move to a different branch. The neighbor's cat was very interested these exciting flutters and branch changes, but could not manage to scale our fence for a closer view. I can't figure out if this bird was sick or just young. It was a robin, I think, and it had spots on its chest and belly. Are robins spotted when they are young? It definitely couldn't fly very well, and I could hear more in the tree way up above it. I'm thinking it was old enough to leave the nest, but just didn't want to leave yet. Kind of like a career college student mooching of of his or her parents until the mom or dad or both finally get fed up and throw everything in the kid's bedroom out the front door and yell "Enough! Get a job and GET OUT!" I think that is what the robin sitting on the electric wire near the tree was telling the young bird. And it was telling it a lot, over and over. According to R, it was the DAD robin because it was pretty, and "just like all species, the male is the pretty one." Anyway. I was given a sound piece of advice, that advice being "Don't touch it, it could have the BIRD FLU." Paranoid perhaps, but I don't want to take any chances. I looked back again later in the evening, and it was gone. Hopefully it finally figured out how to fly and wasn't really sick. But again, you just never know.

Using words like "network latency" and "connectivity issues" gets people off of your back when they keep telling you they are getting kicked off the server to which they remotely connect. These are good words to use when you have no fucking clue WHY it is happening.

New glasses on coffee table + nine month old pug that likes to chew on things = not good news

I'm off work next week. I cannot wait.

Pointless Wednesday Rant...

2006-05-17T12:04:00.000-05:00

I must resist the urge to make small talk or noise while on the phone waiting to shadow a offsite user. I think it makes me sound nervous, and I dislike when other people do it.

Example: "J? Can you shadow me? I am a big retard and still can't understand the step by step instructions you sent me."

"Sure. Let me log in."

..."do do do do dooooo...."

See? What the hell is that? That is almost as annoying as the sigh. You know, when you are on the phone with someone, and you both are waiting for a reboot or something, and there is that silence? Apparently silence is not permissible on the phone, because one, if not both of you will do the whispered sigh.

"Hold on. Let me restart this."

"Ok"

" haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh....."

Gah! No! Don't do that. ESPECIALLY right into the mouthpiece. It makes it sound like you are in a windstorm.

Of course, the worst is when someone breaths into the mouthpiece. Not just once or twice, because sometimes it's just accidental. But sometimes, people do it constantly. Do they have the damn receiver in their mouth? What the hell? Move the damn thing away from your mouth. It hurts my ears.

----------------------

Random thought.

I read on the Dilbert blog where Scott Adams was worrying about saying something silly after having a few "Grey Gooses". And immediately my brain thought "Grey Geese?"

Collect all the animals in the world, by twos...

2006-05-15T08:49:00.000-05:00

I realized I should have stayed in bed when I got up early, left to get gas (because my gas light was on), pulled into the gas station, and saw that the only available pump had a brown paper bag over it, indicating its out-of-order status.

The weekend was, once again, too short. And now the rain. I don't think it will ever end. I should probably build an ark, but I don't have the money for the wood and nails. It hasn't stopped since Saturday. Maybe even Friday.

I scheduled a week off. The week of Memorial Day. I need the break. I'm not going anywhere though. But hey, it's better than nothing, right?

Oh. I hate rainy Mondays.

They just make me feel sad.

How much is that baby in the window...

2006-05-11T10:46:00.000-05:00

One of the many, many, many things in this crazy world that can totally stress my day is having a bad dream the night before. My dreams are usually very detailed, in color, and I'm watching myself from above about ninety-nine percent of the time. Oh, and they're usually off-the-wall whack. Like this.

Mr. decided we were going to go to the pet store. He wanted a bird. Odd, I thought, because he has always expressed a dislike for pet birds, but hey, it's a dream. We enter the pet store, and in the front is a playpen filled with birds. I guess all their wings were clipped because none of them were flying away.

"What kind of bird do you want?" I asked, thinking he would choose the blue parakeet. Everybody gets parakeets as their first bird. I think because you can flush them when they die. No. That's not right.

"A conure."

"Oh. OK." In the dream, it really WAS a conure, which is funny, because I actually had to google conure to see if I was dreaming about the right bird.

He selects his conure, and we walk to the back of the store to get supplies. A cage, a wheel (?), some birdseed, and a water bottle (??). I have never seen a bird run in a hamster wheel, but I guess they do have funny tongues so a water bottle might not be so crazy.

After making his selections, we make our way back to the front of the store. We are almost to the register when he stops, sets everything on the ground, and says, "Wait. I changed my mind."

He walks back over to the playpen, only now, the playpen is filled with babies instead of birds. He selects a baby boy with blond hair and blue eyes, a little white t-shirt and blue osh-kosh overalls. He had on little white socks with red stripes on them and little Converse-looking shoes. Black. (The shoes, not the baby.)

Returning to the register with his new selection, he places the baby on the counter and the check out lady scans his arm and the price pops up and the cash register beeps. The check out lady proceeds to scan in all of his newly selected items (they just kind of appeared there). A playpen, crib, stroller, clothes, all KINDS of stuff.

"You can't buy a baby at a pet store!!!" I exclaimed.

"Yes I can."

"No! You can't. It's not legal! You said you wanted a bird!"

"I changed my mind."

"But a baby isn't like a bird. Birds die after 10 years (again, ???), babies you have FOREVER!"

"Well, people like me are allowed to buy babies here."

"What do you mean, people like you?"

"You know! Husbands who want to have more kids but their wives won't let them!"

"But you HAVE two kids. You said you didn't want more."

"I changed my mind."

"But..." I sputtered, "It's a BABY. I don't want to take care of a baby. Why can't you just get the bird?"

And then I woke up. And Mr. is so not allowed to go to any pet stores.

No speaka englais...

2006-05-11T07:56:00.000-05:00

"The printer downstairs is down for maintenance."

10 minutes later...

"Should I be printing to a different printer?"

Um. Yeah. That's what "down for maintenance means". Next time, I will write step by step instructions, and you still will not get it right. Don't worry, I will clear all the jobs in the queue for the printer that is DOWN for maintenance.

At least my hair is all one color now.

We'll Paint Happy Little Trees...

2006-05-10T14:18:00.000-05:00

I'm no Bob Ross, ok? Wish I was, that guy is all smiles. After a nice lecture from someone about my negativity issues, I have decided to make a list of things that make me feel happy. Baby steps.

And, Mr. Lecturer, for the record, no, I don't enjoy worrying. It sucks. I just don't understand how to stop. Telling me to "just stop" is absolutely no help because worriers like me DON'T KNOW HOW TO JUST STOP. I don't tell you to pee sitting down. So shut up.

So, without further ado, here is my stupid list of things I can think of right now that make me smile.

1. Flowers in the spring. Escpecially tulips. Heh. I said tulips.
2. Puppies. I love puppies. Even if they bite. They smell good.
3. Shopping. Can't really do that so much anymore. But I like to think about going to the mall. Or Barnes & Noble. Or Bed Bath and Beyond. Or Best Buy. Or Pier 1. I should stop.
4. Parties. I like parties. I don't like having parties - they stress me out. But I like going to them. Especially when there is a fire to sit by. There is nothing better than sitting by a fire and drinking some beer with your good friends while exchanging "Do you remember when...?" stories. Except for...
5. Camping. Even better! Because it involves all of number 4, but you are outside when you sleep (fresh air!) and you don't have to worry about messing up someone's house. Yay camping!
6. That hotel room we stayed at in Dundee.
7. Um. crap. I'm out for now. I know there's more. I'll work on it.

Just once...

2006-05-09T14:23:00.000-05:00

I'd like to be able to get my hair colored and not have a problem. Last time they couldn't lift the black, even with bleach. Fine. My fault for using box color. No problem. They covered it all with a level 3 (dark brown) and it was fine.

I went back for a retouch, and the girl didn't pull it through to cover where the bleach did work last time. I wasn't going to say anything, but it has been driving me nuts. I can see a lighter ring around my head, about an inch and a half from my scalp down to about 3 inches away from my scalp.

I paid to have my hair retouched, not striped, right? So I was justified in calling and asking them if they could fix it, right? The lady I spoke with was very nice (I was being very nice - I know getting nasty about stuff like that doesn't help) and told me not to worry and that if I can see it then it must be there and they will fix it. So I'm going back tomorrow.

Why am I all stressed out about this? I'm right, right?

Sunny Monday...

2006-05-08T09:05:00.000-05:00

Today is one of those days. I can't think rationally. One little thing goes wrong, and I'm in a tailspin. I can't keep it all in, but I can't get it all out. That horrible butterfly feeling won't quit. I'm trying. I can't do it. I can't not think. Worry consumes me, and I can't get away from it. I know it doesn't help. I know it won't make anything better. I make things worse, because I have to vocalize, and nothing I say makes a whole lot of sense. But I can't control it. How can I still be so weak? At this point in my life, I should really have a handle on my emotions. You would think.

You would think.

Dog-headed Pouch-dog...

2006-05-05T14:25:00.000-05:00

Determination to succeed at my Avoidance Management program has caused me stumbled upon Stumble Upon. This site is the bomb-diggity when you are bored and can't think of any new web sites to visit. Just install, set your preferences, and start stumbling.

You will dicover things you never knew existed, like the Thylacine, which technically doesn't exist anymore, but HOW EXCITING. If I had lived in the 20's, I would have SO been at the zoo taking pictures. Oh, and this is NOT to be confused the with Tasmanian Devil. I know because I checked.

How did you spend your Friday?

D Pup...

2006-05-05T07:15:00.000-05:00

Let's play a game...

2006-05-04T10:14:00.000-05:00

Let's call Cingular and try to remove international service from not one, but three phones.

Then, let's keep track of how many times you get transferred, how many times you have to give your name and the last four digits of your Tax ID number, how many times you are placed on hold, and also the total call time.

So far, 3, 3, 5, 15 minutes.

Whee!

What I think today...

2006-05-03T09:31:00.000-05:00

If you come in to work and check your email first thing in the morning, and you read an email about a problem, do not panic and respond to me until you have read through ALL of your emails to make sure it hasn't been resolved. Otherwise you will waste my time telling me something I have already figured out. I dislike when I have to respond to you telling you to see my next message.

If you don't know me, and you sit down next to me in a public place, and you start telling me how you are a reiki master and prescription medications are ALL BAD and homeopathy has been around for thousands of years and gluten is evil and your son had ADD until you made him eat grain bread instead of wheat and he ISN'T EVEN EVER TIRED ANYMORE AFTER LUNCH (!!) and your husband is NEVER in a bad mood anymore because he eats the grain too, well, I AM going to think you are a flake. Not a corn flake, because, you know, corn is contaminated, but a grain flake, at least. Please. How about a nice cup of shut the fuck up?

If you break up with your girlfriend, and you get a brand new girlfriend, it is not your business anymore what your old girlfriend is doing. Ever. At all. You should not send her anymore text messages. You should not tell her to quit being "googly-eyed" with the new person she is dating. You should not tell her it is too soon for her to love someone else. Especially if you had the new girlfriend BEFORE you disposed of your old girlfriend AND you also do all of the above in front of your old girlfriend. It's the pot calling the kettle black, my friend, and you should never, ever do that. Oh, and by the way, your friends are starting to think you are a really big jerk. So knock it off. Crybaby.

Fried-Day..

2006-04-28T14:11:00.000-05:00

Lots of people at my work have started tanning, and some bloggers have mentioned it as well, so I decided it was time for me to leave behind my glowing white, spider-veined legs, and opt for the lobster with freckles look.

OK, well, that wasn't my exact intention. I kind of forgot about the freckles I would soon sport after excessive UV exposure, and didn't plan on burning.

The first time, the nice young chap who sold me on my (overpriced?) package put me in the standard, twenty minute bed for five (!) minutes. Turns out that was wise of the boy, though I never would have thought I could trust a 20-something guy who really seemed proud that his main source of income was working full time in a tanning salon. I stand corrected.

After my first tan, which was a piece of 5-minute cake, he got me all signed up and explained that for the next nine days, I could use ANY bed that I wanted without paying the upgrade fees. You know, to check out all they have to offer. Well. OK then.

The next day, I returned and was placed in the "Turbo" bed with facial tanner. I giggle like a pubescent boy when I hear the word "facial", so after I bit my bottom lip to suppress it, the nice career-tanner explained how to work the bed. Again,
my time limit was five (!) minutes, and again, wise choice. I was a teeny-tiny bit pink, but not bad at all. My lips did feel like they were being burned off with a blow torch, but all was well after I figured out out to turn off the facial (tee-hee!) bulbs. And it had a built in "Turbo" fan. Very nice, because, ew, I didn't want to go back to fluorescent hell all stinky.

Today, I returned for my third session. This time, body-building-tan-man must have been on lunch, as a young girl assisted me. She asked what bed I wanted and I shrugged my shoulders.

"OK, how about the bed that massages your back?"

"Um. OK." Perhaps it would bring some relief to my bastard shoulderblade, I thought.

"OK. We'll do six minutes each side, because you have to flip over. And it gets pretty hot."

???

Now, I personally think that all tanning beds are hot, and if there is not a fan blowing full blast on me, I won't make it through the session. Guaranteed. And if this girl, who clearly spends a lot of time tanning, thinks it's hot, well, I'm in trouble.

But I am a trooper and tried not to flinch when she said that and tried not to flinch again when I saw this contraption she was speaking of. It was way to space-agey for me, and it didn't have a top that you can just flip open when you are done. It had a button. That you had to push. To raise it back up after it was done cooking you. Now, for most people, this would not be an issue. But for me, she-with-the-most-irrational-fears-possible, this was a problem. Because, what if, WHAT IF the button broke? And I couldn't get out. And the bulbs wouldn't shut off. And my insides were charbroiled to a crisp. My lips probably really WOULD burn off, and I'm kind of partial to my lips. Wow. Did you say this thing get hot? Because I'm already burning up.

"...and I know it says 20 minutes, but it will really only be 12" (are you sure) "and you just have to keep an eye on it" (but you aren't supposed to open your EYES in the tanning bed!) "and flip over after 6" (what if I don't flip over in time?) "and here is how you turn the massager on and off. OK! Enjoy."

O.K.

I stripped of my clothing (no tan lines!), applied my hemp bronzing cream, pushed the start button and got in. I heard the bulbs first, and it seemed that the brightness and temperature were just going to keep intensifying. Then the fan kicked on, which relaxed me a bit. Next I felt something move (ack!), but it was only the massager. Which was very nice, it kept me distracted, and my shoulderblade did feel a little better. Soon I started getting paranoid about turning over. I actually turned over about 5 minutes in. I turned off the massager (frontal massages are weird unless they are from Mr.) and tried to relax. With no more distraction from the massager, all I could think about was how HOT it was. And if my legs were burning, because they sure felt like they were burning. I checked the timer (my eyes!) at least six times. Finally, I decided I couldn't take it any more, and shut it down at 10 minutes.

Must to my relief, the bulbs went dark and the top began to rise. Of course, I had to wait until it was completely up to get out because, well, what IF you aren't supposed to touch it, and I bumped it and the bulbs shattered and rained hot glass
particles all over my naked being? (Did I mention the irrational fear of tanning beds that I have?) I stood up and my face was RED and my butt was RED and my neck was RED and my belly was RED and my thighs were RED, and, oh, you get the idea. I blotted off (I don't sweat very much, really) and slowly got dressed.

I am a little more pink, and my thighs feel sore and my lips hurt. I don't think I'll be using the massage-a-tan bed again.

I will be taking the weekend off from tanning anyway, so I think I'll survive.

I'll just stick with getting a facial (hee!) from the "Turbo" bed.

It's safer that way.

It's a Bright, Bright, Sunshiny Day...

2006-04-28T09:28:00.000-05:00

I wish I would have played hooky today.

The sun is shining (at least it was when I got here) and it is going to be warmer than I originally heard. In general, a nice spring day.

My shoulder is still effin killing me.

But because my desk (read: table) is not like this:

there really isn't much I can do about it.

My concentration level is still off. Things to worry about, things I find to worry about, things I make up to worry about are all factors here. That and the fact that I think I am just ca-razy...

People who know me will agree.

I think I just need to locate one of these after work today.

T-effin-G-I-F.

Pain, Drunkenness and Poo. In that order...

2006-04-27T09:18:00.000-05:00

The pinch in my shoulder blade is still there, if anyone cares. I'm sitting here smelling like Vick's Vaporub because I had Mr. stick one of those stinky Icy Hot pads on the offending muscle/nerve/whatever. I don't think it is helping, but my nasal passages are nice and clear from inhaling the menthol all morning. I am not enjoying smelling like an old person though.

A bit of advice to the single ladies...

If you have just recently started seeing a new guy, who just recently got out of a bad relationship because the previous woman was too immature to handle the relationship, dO NOT sit at the bar all afternoon after blowing off work when you have already made dinner plans with said guy. That is not such a good impression. You know, especially the part where you pass out after returning home and don't hear him knocking on your door for 20 minutes. Seriously.

D-pup's poo seems to be better. Of course we thought that yesterday and then she had a relapse. She has a vet appointment scheduled for today that we can cancel, should she decide to stay solid. They didn't seem overly concerned when Mr. called, so that's good. I think it's from all the damned acorns she eats. They're everywhere. I keep trying to explain to her that she is not a squirrel, but she just won't hear it. Denial.

Happy HNT. Maybe one of these weeks I'll actually post a picture for it.

My first beading project evah....

2006-04-26T09:49:00.000-05:00

And yes, I am bored today, and this is my camera phone.

Wonderful quality.

Did someone send you flowers?

2006-04-26T07:40:00.000-05:00

No.

Can't I buy myself flowers?

Fake flowers at that.

Five pounds of screaming sleepless nights...

2006-04-25T15:50:00.000-05:00

Annoying girl at my work: "Hey j! Come here and look at new pictures of the BAAAAY-BEEEEEEEE." (Referring to some relative of hers whom I don't know who just had a premature baby boy, while I'm on my way to the bathroom. Of course.)

leans over desk to obligingly look at pictures on computer

AGAMW: "Isn't he cute?"

j: "Yeah. Cute."

AGAMW: (preparing for light-speed speech) "I just can'tbelievehowlittleheisiandheisdoingsogoodandis5poundsnow - ohsupervisorladycomehereandlookandthenewpicturesihaveofhtebaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybeeee...."

Supervisor girl: "Oh. How much does he way?"

AGAMW: "5 pounds! Can you believe it?"

see my escape route and make a break for it while she is distracted.

...

returning from bathroom

AGAMW: "I can't believe he is 5 pounds! Doesn't it make you want one?"

j: "Um. No."

AGAMW: "But he's cute though, right?"

j: feeling guilty "Yep. Sure is."

I'm not saying I'm not happy for the little guy, pulling through premature birth and all. But really, is that so miraculous anymore? And, I don't KNOW her family or the little baby, and sorry, I just CAN't gush over babies. CAN NOT. That little piece that goes inside women that makes them all googly and starry-eyed and picturing the mini-van with 2 car seats? I didn't get that piece. Or it is broken. It always was. And it still is.

I'm sorry.

Meh...

2006-04-25T08:45:00.000-05:00

The pinch in my right shoulderblade indicates that I have indeed mastered the poor posture slouch I have been trying so hard to achieve here in my fluorescent hell.

The good news I received yesterday was superceded by the fact that D-pup is sick. Poor little thing. She is now on a medicated routine of Pedialyte and Kaopectate. I'm not sure what she ate, but it isn't being very nice to her. She is fine otherwise, so I probably shouldn't worry, but that is not my nature. No. I have to find one thing to worry about, magnify it to ridiculous proportions, and then snap at everyone around me, taking out my frustrations on anyone who will listen, and even those that don't. Because they usually do quit listening, or answering their phones.

Lately I have been on edge. Small things set me off. Forget about having a thick skin, mine is transparent it is so thin.

The odd thing is, my obsessive behavior has not kicked in, which is not the norm for me in this situation. I should be thinking about the worst case scenario, as is my nature, but instead the thoughts in my head are more along the lines of "who gives a shit anymore". I'm sure this too shall pass, but for right now, I am void of the butterfly in the stomach feeling and just kind of numb. I don't want to think about anything for a while, it just hurts right between my eybrows when I do. My focus is still off, concentration is still difficult.

I just want D-pup to avoid a costly trip to the vet. Everything else, well, I'm so over thinking about it.

For now.

Things what I hate today.

2006-04-20T09:25:00.000-05:00

No windows in here.

Fluorescent lighting. Ick on my skin tone.

No radio. Not allowed!

No one to talk to.

Redundancy.

---------------

It's going to be 80 today. And sunny. I think. I'd have to get up and go look if I really wanted to know.

I must be entering a funk again. Damn, but that happens too often anymore.

I just realized that my Amazon wish list has, like, 80 things on it. And I always wish that someday someone will find it and buy me something. I know they won't, and that's probably silly.

It's kind of like how I always wanted to be listening to the radio and hear a song dedicated to me(!). Right now it's this song.

It's really weird inside my head sometimes.

Well, we're moving somewhere, anyway...

2006-04-20T07:17:00.000-05:00

Mr. R says to me the other night, "You know where I was thinking would be a better place to move?"

"Where?"

"Alabama."

"Alabama? I thought you didn't want to go south. It's probably humid there."

"No worse than it is here."

"True, true. Well, that sounds like an OK idea to me. I really wanted to go south from the beginning."

"Well, (someone we know indirectly) said that they took a cut in pay when they moved there, but the cost of living is so much lower it was worth it. Their property tax is only like $800 a year."

"A year? Ours are more than that a half. OK. Sounds like a plan. You know, until we come up with another idea."

"Yeah."

pause

"You know, they have dry counties in Alabama."

"We're gonna have to watch that. No living in dry counties."

"No. That would be bad."

So, now, it appears that we are going to go south, you know, when the time to leave finally arrives. Right now, it's one of the few things that gets me through my windowless days. And it's, like, six years away. Six whole years. I will be in my 30s. But we can put a gun rack back in the truck and not get concerned looks from people. I think. I don't really know. I've never been there. But I've heard. And I can probably say "ya'll" and not have people look at me funny. Because "ya'll" doesn't always fly so well up here. And that, right there, is enough for me.

So long as we don't end up in a dry county.

It will be broughten...

2006-04-12T14:58:00.000-05:00

If you think you know who I am...and I did not tell you how to get here...congratulations on finding me.

If you are here, and I know you, and I did not tell you how to get here, and you don't like what I say here...tough shit.

If you are here because someone else who knows me told you how to get here even though I trusted them not to, be sure to not tell that person any secrets because they can't keep secrets.

If you are here, and I know you, and I did not tell you how to get here, and you don't like what I say here, and you tell other people about it and all of a fucking sudden I'm getting all these hits from my area... I will take this blog down and relocate. And tell no one. That's right. *poof* I will be gone.

If I really want to taunt you, I will move, tell you where I am moving, but password protect the new place, so you have to ask ME for permission to read about me. All the cool kids are doing it. And since I always was a bit of a follower...well...I'll just have to give it a few days to think about.

The sound of spring...

2006-04-11T15:15:00.000-05:00

Springtime is officially here.

You can hear the rumble.

I love that sound.

Mr. R surprised me at lunch today and picked me up on the bike. It was so nice to be back out. No more sitting in the house, wishing nice weather would hurry up and get here so we could just hop on and go. No destination. Just ride. Feel the wind on our faces.

And you know, those Harleys vibrate somethin' fierce, so if you lean forward on the seat just enough...well...it just makes for a very enjoyable ride.

;)

Do you ever....

2006-04-11T06:54:00.000-05:00

I am getting that craving again. That one that makes me want to sit in front of Him on the floor, while He pets my hair. I feel myself losing control of myself. And it's weird, I can physically feel it. It's a tingling somewhere in my upper back and neck, right between the shoulders. A physical sensation that tells me that if I could do that, the sensation would go away, along with the anxious feeling I get when this happens.

How weird is that?

But alas, I am trapped in my windowless office, left to suffer for a minimum of nine more hours.

Pity.

At least the sun is shining today, the forecast is continued sun and highs in the 70s. I will sneak outside at lunchtime to witness it and soak up the warmth.

Maybe that will hold me over until I can have my seat...

Thoughts, Observations, and Even a Little Advice...

2006-04-10T08:11:00.000-05:00

Do not drink shots. Ever. You will not feel nice the next day. Even if the shot is called "pineapple upside down cake" and tastes just like one. Especially if the shot is called "snakebite". Fortunately, I took my own advice on this one the night the snakebites occurred.

Shut the garage door when you see a tripped out girl staggering down the street on a Sunday evening, muttering and moaning to herself, wearing dirty white pants. Do this immediately after seeing her spin around in the road, apparently wondering where she is, and then seeing her approach the neighbor's house and deciding she should sit there on the front porch. If you haven't closed the garage door yet because you are in total shock and awe and are just standing inside your fence, mouth agape, wondering what the fuck kind of people are in your neighborhood, then PLEASE do it after she sits on the neighbor's porch. You know, right about the same time she starts staring at her hands like she's wondering where they came from, but before she flops her head down between her knees and yells 'HI KITTY KITTY KITTY!" to the neigbor's cats hiding under the porch. Seriously. Walk over there and push the button on the garage door opener, because you don't want someone who is tripping that bad to just wander inside your house. I wish I would have had my video camera.

It is never going to get warm out. Ever. It was 29 degrees when I left the house today.

Instead of moving West in a few years, we are thinking of moving South. South was kind of what I always wanted originally. Yay!

It's kind of shitty when the place you work for will compensate other people who work from home for their high speed internet connection, but not their network admin. Don't you think?

This is kind of old school...

2006-04-07T11:23:00.000-05:00

But I can totally relate.

Random Ramblings...

2006-04-06T14:23:00.000-05:00

I like the flip-flops. I think they look fun. The new styles are all flashy, with beads and sparklies. They are very inexpensive too, so you can have lots and lots of them. But I can't have any. Why? Because I CANNOT STAND to have that little thing between my toes. It drives me nuts. I can't wear toe rings either. It's ok though, I have ugly feet and really shouldn't show them off.

As far as pronunciation goes, the word Arabica, you know, the coffee bean? Do you say Ah-RAB-i-ca, or AIR-a-BEE-Ca? I say AIR-a-BEE-Ca. The people on the radio do not. And they should know. Because they are on the radio. And, like, talk for a living.

If you send me an email, and I walk past your desk after you have sent said email, it is not necessary to tell me "I sent you an email and it says this..." Really. It kind of defeats the purpose.

Our weather forecast for this area in the loverly state of Ohio has snow flurries in the forecast for Saturday. Snow. Flurries. Onasaturday. Seriously. Why can't we have a nice weekend? I would be so happy with sunny and 60s. God love my parents for only making it this far south after leaving Alaska. This must have seemed like paradise to them. To me? Not so much.

D-puppy discovered the wonderful world of squirrels yesterday. I was unable to witness this amazing encounter, however, Mr. R was able to give me a delightful play-by-play. Apparently D-puppy was outside in the fence and a squirrel ran halfway up the trunk of one of our pine trees. D-pup spotted it immediately, reared up on two legs and let out a mighty Bar-Rar-Rar-Rar-Raoooooh at the squirrel. The squirrel was paralyzed with fear, it must have been upon seeing the pug preparing for a vicious assault, for it remained frozen in its position on the side of the tree. Mr. R called to D-pup "What is that D-pup?". She turned her head toward him, still on her hind legs, big eyes bulging as if to say "I don't know dad. What IS it?" She is a killer. I'm telling you.

1 hour left.

Friday yet???

2006-04-06T07:56:00.000-05:00

It is 8:55 AM and already I have pretended to be someone else so as to get international roaming on their mobile phone account, dealt with crazy, hard-to-understand IP Phone settings, and have been told that people can't call another, unrelated mobile phone. And I was told that by the person, after I called them on the phone that they say doesn't receive calls.

1. When did I become a phone guy?
2. I hate phones now. With a big, bloody passion.

My rock has decided that perhaps He is just a bit tired of hearing me complain. Because I do complain. A lot. It's the end of winter, I'm tired of having nothing to look forward to after work, but He just DOESN'T WANT TO HEAR IT.

I know it's my fault, but dammit. Things are really bothering me right now. And I can't even whine and complain to the one person who is supposed to make me feel all better. Just by saying it will be ok and not actually fixing things. Because guys, when a woman is that upset, she doesn't want things fixed, she just wants SOMEONE TO LISTEN. Someone to say "oh honey. Don't be that way. It will all be ok." For me, those 5 magic works are enough to snap me out of it. To get me to tell myself, "it WILL be ok. It is crappy now, but it will go away." And then I feel all better inside.

But no more. The rock HAS HAD ENOUGH.

So I complain to the innernets.

Pathetic, I am.

You are now free to move about the country...

2006-03-31T09:21:00.000-05:00

I think I need a vacation. Just some time off, to regroup, to remind myself that there are things in life to look forward to. To remind me that I am not experiencing a meaningless existence.

I worry about regrets. One day, when I'm old and wrinkly and gray, I will tell my grandchildren - (Oh wait, I don't have children to produce grandchildren - there's that damn meaningless thing creeping up on me again) I will tell my great niece and nephew (I think I will have that) to make sure they spend more time doing what they enjoy and less time doing what they think they have to.

I was stuck in such horrible traffic on my way home a couple nights ago, it took me almost an hour to get home when it normally takes me about 15 minutes. I remember thinking how bad it sucked, being stuck in a traffic jam on a highway I didn't want to be on in the first place, because I was on my way home from somewhere I hate spending so much time and energy on. I was thinking, what can I do about this? And the answer I thought of and the answer everyone will say is "Find something you like to do and do it."

Easier said than done. Do people who say that honestly know how difficult that is to do? I doubt it. A lot of them have skated through life so far, growing up with a rich mommy and daddy to take care of everything for them. Or they married someone who can take care of them. Or they divorced someone who is now obligated by law to support them for life. (WTF? Seriously. I got jack in my divorce. I had to pay that bastard off. And he left me. I still haven't recovered financially.)

I know, there are a lot of people that scratched and clawed and made it up the big it's-the-American-way-of-life-ladder. Had nothing to start and made something of themselves, and now they are livin' on easy street with their 2.5 kids a dog and white picket fence. Good for them. They figured it out. That won't ever be me. I know that is my fault. I will be stuck where I am right now, forever, because I don't have the drive, or the ambition, or whatever the fuck it takes to make it there.

I hate working. Maybe, if I could do something I truly enjoyed, something that made me smile when I did it, maybe then I wouldn't hate working. But I will never know. Because I have bills to pay and can't "start fresh". I can't say "Hey! I really like doing XXX. I am going to do that for a living. Whee! I'm so happy." I can't afford to go back to school. I couldn't afford it in the first place, that's why I never finished. (Here's a big you-better-realize-how-god-damn-lucky-you-are to all the college kids out there whose parent are paying for that shit.) I wouldn't really want to go back anyway. The things I would learn if I went back would end up driving me right back to corporate America.

I don't want to be Corporate America. I hate the attitudes, the back-stabbing, the general grumpiness, because let's face it, the majority of the others don't want to be here either. But the ones that do want to be here? Look out for them. They're the ones with their shiny Lexuses, or BMWs, or whatevers, and they think they are just the fucking cat's meow, and you are a piece of shit. What do you MEAN you don't wake up every day with a big fucking smile on your face and fly out of bed and drive to work singing Hi Ho Hi Ho It's off to work I go? Yeah those people. I hate those people.

I don't want to wear heels. I don't want to "dress to impress" in a suit that is not trendy, but classic, with a collared blouse and nylons that match my skin color. (Lucky for me that isn't a problem yet - a positive aspect of my job is the relaxed dress code) I don't want to sit on my ass for at least 8 hours a day, straining my eyes with not one, but TWO monitors. At a desk that isn't even a desk, it's a motherfucking table, that is SO not the right height to be ergonomically correct, and YES it makes my back and shoulders ache. I don't want to sit in a room with no window, and get phone calls from people who ACTUALLY GET TO SEE DAYLIGHT and have them tell me how beautiful it is outside. I don't want my thermostat locked between 68 and 73, which, yes, SHOULd be a good average temperature, but for some reason always makes the room too hot or too cold and never comfortable.

Quit whining, right? DO something about it, right? Check the classifieds, put my resume on monster.com, check careetbuilder.com, right? But I don't want to do any of the things that my resume says I know how to do. I. AM. BURNED. OUT. Completely sick and absolutely fucking tired of people complaining to me. This doesn't work, that doesn't work, when is it going to be fixed, why aren't you done yet? HEY! I didn't break it OK? Technology? Not so perfect. If it was, I wouldn't have a job at all. (Ah-ha! I just have to get rid of technology. That's all. Problem solved.) I'm trying ok? Really. But I don't know why this broke, or why that locked up, or why that crashed without looking at it and you ranting about HOW MUCH MONEY WE ARE LOSING EVERY MINUTE THIS IS DOWN or IF OUR CLIENTS CAN'T GET THROUGH THEY WILL TAKE THEIR BUSINESS ELSEWHERE AND WE WILL ALL STARVE TO DEATH AND THE VULTURES WILL PICK OUT OUR EYEBALLS WITH THEIR BEAKS does not help. At all. Because I need to concentrate and you are SO not letting that happen when you ask me every 3 minutes IS IT FIXED YET? WHEN WILL IT BE FIXED? WHY ISN'T IT FIXED YET?

I'M TRYING! SHUT UP!

Whew. So yeah. I think I might need a vacation. Or Prozac. Or just swift kick in the ass and someone to say "Hey. Asshole. We all have to deal with this shit and everyone else does it, why can't you?"

I don't know.

Why can't I?

BlogPatrol???

2006-03-29T12:13:00.000-05:00

Totally doesn't work anymore, or something...

I wonder...

2006-03-28T12:32:00.000-05:00

Will I ever stop feeling like I'm not the first choice?

Will I ever stop getting the butterflies? The feeling that makes my heart beat out of rhythm, and I have to take deep, shaky breaths to fix it?

Like the little girl in gym class who was always chosen last.

I am still that little girl.

I will always be that little girl.

Road Trip...

2006-03-24T09:44:00.000-05:00

I'm going here this weekend. Yay!

He makes you do what???

2006-03-23T09:40:00.000-05:00

I think the dynamics of my relationship with Mr. R are more obvious then I originally thought. Within the last week, I have had two conversations with two different people about it. It's funny to me that people notice.

Last night went something like this, when Mr. R was driving us and a friend home, in the truck.

NY D: Do you always sit in the middle?
Me: Yep.
NY D: Why?
Me: Because that's the rule.
NY D: ??? (confused look)
NY D: So you always sit there? Even when there is nobody else in the truck?
Me: Yep.
NY D: Huh...

I do. I remember when I first starting dating Mr. R. He had a blue truck with a bench seat. I think I sat in the passenger seat twice. Then He told me to sit in the middle. And I have been ever since. I don't even use the passenger door. I get in on His side, and out on His side. I hate when we take my jeep somewhere, because I feel odd not being able to sit next to Him. And I NEVER drive when it's the two of us.

I suppose that might seem odd to some people.

Then last Friday (OH! Last Friday! Downtown! For the parade! Fun! Whole other story!) we were riding back to our stomping ground with KT's boyfriend. (He generously offered to retrieve 4 intoxicated females from the St. Patty's Day festivities.) T was upset about her ex being a jerk and generally mad about men in general and then she turned to me.

T: You know, sometimes Mr. R makes me mad.
Me: Really? Why?
T: He's so bossy. He tells you what to do, and you just do it.
Me: Well, if He was telling me to do something I didn't want to do, I wouldn't do it.
T: But he's so CONTROLLING.
Me: Some women like to be controlled, T.
T: Yeah, but...oh....OH.
Me: Yeah.
T: Nevemind then. I didn't realize...
Me: It's ok. Most people don't.

But those conversations got me to thinking. If they notice, then other people notice. And if they think I'm being forced to do things I don't want to do, then other people might think that. I wonder if people are thinking, "Oh, poor jAG. Mr. R. is so mean to her." Or maybe they think I'm an abused wife. Or that I'm unhappy and just don't know how to get away from Him.

And that is funny to me, because I sit and analyze other people's relationships. And I'm usually thinking that both people are trying way too hard to be in control, and it's throwing everything all off balance. You can't have two people in charge. You just can't. It doesn't matter if it's the man or the woman, but it just can't be both.

But seriously, I don't think anyone we know has the same kind of relationship. And they just don't get it.

Too bad for them.

It's like this and that and like this and uh...

2006-03-16T08:22:00.000-05:00

If you ever lose a wallet, let me know and I will send D-pup over. First, cancel all of your credit cards, get a new license and worry about who found it. Then give her about 2 months, have a few drinks, and the next thing you know she will be on your bed chewing on it. There will even be some dollars in it. But she won't tell you where she found it.

Girls don't like it when you kiss the guy they are interested in. Whether you are married or not. They WILL give you the stink eye. Poo on them, I'm no threat, he's my friend and I'm touchy-feely.

I got a spanky. Yay! (I should NOT crack my knuckles. Mr. HATES that.) Oh, but it has been SO long and it hurt SO good. That stinging kind that makes your breath catch in your throat. I subbed out immediately. That hasn't happened it a long while. I had forgotten how peaceful it is.

And AND AND I have to put my collar back on. When I get home anyway, I don't think I should wear it to work. Do you even know how long it has been for that? DO YOU? Do you even know how excited I am about that? No! You don't! But I am! So! Happy! About it!

And, (I don't think you are supposed to start sentences with And) if you don't understand...well I'm sorry. But I don't care. Because it makes me feel so good. Like I don't have to worry anymore. It's so nice.

TTFN and HHNT.

Today...

2006-03-15T09:14:00.000-05:00

I do not feel OK.

Today, I want to be over.

It is in my head pounding, screaming to get out.

All the things I can't say.

I want to be home, in the dark, and I want to crawl in His lap and have Him stroke my hair and tell me everything will be fine.

That would make me feel OK.

It is a Rumor

2006-03-14T16:13:00.000-05:00

Defamer, the L.A. Gossip Rag: Debunker: Will Ferrell Not Dead In Paragliding Accident

Phew.

Rumor has it...

2006-03-14T15:52:00.000-05:00

That Will Ferrell died in a para-gliding accident yesterday. Says Mr. R, who is listening to Bubba the Love Sponge, so how much more reliable can you get?

Seriously though, I can't find anything online about it.

I hope it is not true. He's a funny, funny guy.

Can I trust you...

2006-03-12T13:13:00.000-05:00

If, perhaps, I gave you my blog address last night, and maybe was a little intoxicated when I did so, I would hope that you would keep it to yourself. K?

Irritations as of late...

2006-03-09T16:26:00.000-05:00

The phrase "on the bubble".

When ppl use shorthand 2 send txt msgs 2 u.

Anything considered "Corporate America".

People with very loud "inside voices" who seem to think that everyone within a five-mile radius cares to hear what they are talking about.

The phrase "inside voice".

Those stupid cards you have to use everywhere to collect points to save money, get a free pop, get ten cents off your next purchase, whatever the fuck. Why can't they not make those stupid little cards and then lower prices because of all the money they will save not making the stupid little cards?

People who aren't AT ALL disturbed over what just happened in South Dakota.

PMS.

Men who think PMS is not real. This really makes me want to hurt them. Because I have it. Now.

Ridiculous...

2006-03-09T12:22:00.000-05:00

There are too many things I have to do during the day that are inconsequential.

I feel like I am wasting too much of my life.

Spam can be funny...

2006-03-03T08:59:00.000-05:00

Especially on a Friday morning, when you are all ready for the weekend, even though it will be spent painting the kitchen.

Read:

She wants a better sex? All you need's here!
Cheapest medications based LICENSED online phartmacy!

pharTmacy

That just sounds silly. And I'm not quite sure that the whole sentence even makes sense...

;)

Don't make me hurt you...

2006-02-23T09:22:00.000-05:00

Well. Today started out horribly. Beginning, oh, about midnight. First off, I was still awake. Not only was I still awake, but I was not at home. I was out with Mr. R. and Company. I was enjoying myself, and therein lies the problem. The fleeting yet recurring thought of "Oh my, I have to work early tomorrow, and it's going to be a long day because of that after-hours upgrade. I should go home" started happening less frequently with each friendly hug I received and each brown bottle beverage I consumed. It did not help matters that I apparantly appeared to be very thirsty and Mr. R kept trying to quench that thirst with new brown bottles.

I did get to see a couple of friends that I hadn't seen in, oh, FO-EVAH, and that was great. They are still the nice, polite chaps they were many moons ago, and now the pangs of regret from drifting away from that circle of friends have resurfaced.

I also had the (dis)pleasure of seeing a girl I went to school with. Said girl (I'd say woman, but she is not worthy of such a title - details to follow) is someone I was most certainly NOT friends with and did NOT associate with. She is divorced, cheating (I think) on her current lover (though they may have separated by now), and dating my friend S's friend, who happens to be going through a VERY bitter divorce. S made a not-so-nice comment about her several weeks ago, last time we saw her,
and that comment reassured me that my disapproval of her was justified. (I can be catty sometimes and often wonder if I dislike women for the wrong reasons or no reason at all.)

I was, however, friendly to this girl, as I always am. Not friendly in the oh-my-gosh-so-good-to-see-you-we-really-should-hang-out kind of way, but more in the
you-are-dating-a-friend-of-a-friend-so-I-will-be-polite-i-always-thought-you-were-a-bitch kind of way.

After exchanging pleasantries, I went about my business of laughing and dancing and flirting, as this is what I do best. A short while later, our friend's daughter showed up. I suppose I could say she is my friend, as she is only 8 years my junior and we do have fun together, and her mother is more than 10 years my senior. Always caught in the middle, I am. Anywho, daughter was trashed with a capital T. She appeared to have some sensible friends with her to act as drivers and support system, however, she chose to chill with the *ahem* older folk.

We can't help it that we're that cool.

Both of us continued to laugh and dance and flirt. For some reason, I'm not quite sure why, Bitchy-girl-from-high-school was starting to become clingy with me. She wanted me to dance and talk to her. I would humor her for a bit, then return to
socializing with those that I actually consider my friends. Daughter, now trashed with a capital T AND italicized, approached me and said something (can't quite remember what it was). Whatever it was, it pissed off bitchy girl, and she threw a punch at daughter. It took my brain a few moments to get over the initial shock and process what was happening. By the time bitchy girl had daughter on the ground, my brain had finished processing and told me "Hey. She's kicking her ass. Not cool. Do something."

Those that know me know that I am not very strong and that I am most certainly not a fighter. They do know, however, that I am a loyal friend and I'm not going to just stand there and let someone I like get their ass beat. The boys (Mr. R and Company) will. Girl fight! Wow! Let's stand here and watch! Maybe someone's shirt will get ripped off and we'll see a boob!

So I grabbed bitchy girl (who was on top) by the back of the shirt. I yelled "Hey! Bitchy girl! Stop it! She didn't do anything! She's only 21! Get off!" and yanked really hard on her shirt. Bitch didn't budge. I'm guessing she outweighs me by at least 20 pounds. That doesn't sound like a lot, but I must again emphasize that I am not a fighter, and quite frankly, I am a wimp. And she has a barbwire tattoo on her massive (yet jiggly) bicep. I just can't move a girl with barbwire on her skin. So there I was yanking and yelling and wondering why, with all the guys around me, wasn't anyone helping? Oh yeah, they may miss a boob shot. Finally, bitchy girl's boyfriend assisted and picked her up and put her in a full nelson. Daughter, who somehow lost her shoe during this fiasco, bounced up like the young spry thing she is, screaming and yelling "Why did she do that? Who is she? I'm going to kick her ass!"

Um. No. You're not. You were on the ground, remember? On the bottom. Not exactly an ass-kicking position, honey. But I did get to rip her shirt, so score one point for the good guys.

R restrained daughter, which was quite an easy feat, and one I'm sure He enjoyed. (Cute little girl in distress, you know?) Bitchy girl, still in the full nelson and now unable to see past R to scream at daughter, turned her attention toward me. She began thrashing about, kicking at me and yelling, "What the fuck, you were my friend, jAG! You were my friend!"

"Bitchy girl! Shut up. Quit kicking at me. We were never friends."

That was not the right thing to say.

I'm not really sure why she said that, though I'm going to lean towards the "she was really drunk" excuse. But when I said we were never friends, she got pissed. For a moment I thought her boyfriend was going to let her go and I actually took off my glasses so I wouldn't get broken lenses in my eyes. He did not let her go, thankfully, and dragged her out the door.

Someone who works at the establishment came up to me and asked me who started the fight. I answered, and he replied, "Thanks. That's all I needed to know." He didn't seem shocked at all.

I wonder if she does this often.

We left shortly thereafter. I guess all the excitement of the evening was too much for me, and the emotions just overflowed. I was tired and intoxicated and angry and wanting a cigarette and for some reason decided the world hated me and just turned into a complete psycho.

R, who still doesn't quite know how to handle me when I get that way, let me go. He said at one point, "I wish I could tape record you so you can hear tomorrow what an idiot you are. Go to sleep."

That's not quite the way to handle a emotional drunk.

Eventually I did go to sleep, too late. I woke up feeling just like I thought I would. Like a complete loser. With a headache and dry eyes. And don't worry, I remember all the things I screamed and yelled and cried. Not need to record it. It's on a replay loop in my head. It probably will be all day. At least I don't feel like I smoked all night long. Because I didn't!

Sometimes, you just need a hug, and someone to say, "Hey, calm down. Everything is OK."

That's all.

That's how some people want to be handled.

That would have been nice.

It is going to be a long effin day.

I'm not really ready yet...

2006-02-21T14:37:00.000-05:00

A glimpse into the thoughts of a weak-minded person.

Note, I did not say simple minded. I prefer to think that my level of intelligence is average to above average, aside from my naive moments, which I do not believe are attributed to stupidity so much as lack of experience. Weak minded, as in I was controlled my whole life by someone other then myself until I was divorced at 26, which subsequently left me in charge of myself. That resulted in a few, if not several, poor choices. Those choices, however, were MY choices and they were educational if nothing else. One thing I have learned is that someone or something needs to control me, because I just don't have it in me. I was trained that way, so to speak, and it's hard to un-train yourself.

I need a crutch. I need an excuse. If something bothers me, upsets me or pisses me off, I need a distraction, or I will suffocate in my panicked and fragmented thought processes. Hence, I enjoyed smoking. I could change channels when I lit that cigarette. A temporary distraction which caused me to focus on something other than the issue I had exaggerated in my mind (even though it was no doubt having a negative impact on the rest of my body). I would still enjoy smoking if it were up to me. Well, if I could pretend it wasn't bad for me. And, in reality, it COULD be up to me, but someone is making sure I realize that not smoking is better for me. I know this, anyway (again, I am weak, not stupid). But dammit, I don't want to stop. I want to play dumb and blame everyone else for my mistakes and problems and just have one more cigarette.

Yet, who ever really has one more? You can't eat just one more Lays potato chip, you can't drink just one more Bud Light, you can't have sex just once (ok, unless the other person is really, really not that good and you are just that desparate to get your rocks off and then, ew, you think, "what did I just do?"), and you sure as hell can't just have one more cigarette.

Ah, I remember the days when I was a social smoker. I went to the bar. I drank. I smoked. I laughed. I had fun. I went home. Where I did not drink or smoke (carryover from my mother's control over me - you can't smoke in a house and you don't drink at home. Alcoholics drink at home).

Why can't I just be like that again? I know why. Because that isn't good for you either. And one more would turn into two more, into three more, into four more; pretty soon it will be like those nights out when you finally realize that you have said "I'll have one more" at least three times to the grinning bartender, teaching you to instead say, "I'll have another". (It is common for a few people I know to hold up their hand to the bartender, say "I'll have one more", but the 5 fingers waggling in the air indicate otherwise. This is what happens when you are friends with both the patrons and the bartenders of the establishment. Everyone smiles and nods knowingly.)

I suppose I will continue with my scattered thought processes until this thing finally has no more control over me.

Maybe that is what is bothering me so much more than giving up the act?

Not allowing something to have control over me?

Which would put me in control.

What about me?

2006-02-20T09:25:00.000-05:00

Arena

(known to self and others)

knowledgeable, sentimental, trustworthy

Blind Spot

(known only to others)

able, intelligent, loving

Façade

(known only to self)

modest, self-conscious, spontaneous

Unknown

(known to nobody)

accepting, adaptable, bold, brave, calm, caring, cheerful, clever, complex, confident, dependable, dignified, energetic, extroverted, friendly, giving, happy, helpful, idealistic, independent, ingenious, introverted, kind, logical, mature, nervous, observant, organised, patient, powerful, proud, quiet, reflective, relaxed, religious, responsive, searching, self-assertive, sensible, shy, silly, sympathetic, tense, warm, wise, witty

Dominant Traits

100% of people think that mrs. r is able
100% of people think that mrs. r is intelligent
100% of people agree that mrs. r is knowledgeable
100% of people think that mrs. r is loving
100% of people agree that mrs. r is sentimental
100% of people agree that mrs. r is trustworthy

All Percentages

able (100%) accepting (0%) adaptable (0%) bold (0%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (0%) clever (0%) complex (0%) confident (0%) dependable (0%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (0%) giving (0%) happy (0%) helpful (0%) idealistic (0%) independent (0%) ingenious (0%) intelligent (100%) introverted (0%) kind (0%) knowledgeable (100%) logical (0%) loving (100%) mature (0%) modest (0%) nervous (0%) observant (0%) organised (0%) patient (0%) powerful (0%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (0%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (0%) searching (0%) self-assertive (0%) self-conscious (0%) sensible (0%) sentimental (100%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (0%) sympathetic (0%) tense (0%) trustworthy (100%) warm (0%) wise (0%) witty (0%)

Created by the Interactive Johari Window on 20.2.2006, using data from 1 respondents.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view mrs. r's full data.

Fuck JJ 48...

2006-02-19T19:46:00.000-05:00

Yeah. That's just cuz Kasey Kahne didn't win. And I haven't had a cigarette since Thursday. And I'm drunk.

Drinking and not smoking is hard to do when you are used to doing both at the same time. I have noticed that my senses are more, uh, what's the word? Aware? I don't know. I feel on edge. I want to fuck. That's the only thing that makes me feel better than smoking.

I read recently that nicotine helps metabolize caffeine in the system. I believe that is true. If you are going to try to quit smoking, and you double the amount of coffee you drink to compensate, you get a wicked-ass buzz. Then, add beer to the mix, you know, because it's the fucking Daytona 500, and the day ends up being pretty cool. Except I haven't been fucked yet. (Though I did masturbate - tee hee - is that TMI?) And Kahne was 11th. I think. And Stewart is an asshole. Why didn't he get black-flagged? And why the fuck is Busch driving Wallace's car?

Yeah.

Drunk blogging is cool.

Thank G-d for the backspace key. I've used it eleventy-seventy times already.

BM, if you are reading this, this is what happens to me when I can't smoke.

Gah!

I know I'm going to read this tomorrow and say to myself, "Oh my G-d, I can't believe I published that."

Too fucking bad.

And that is just a cool word.

Fuck.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!

I got fucked yesterday. Hard and fast, in the bathroom, you know, because there are children amongst us. And that whole spontaneous sex thing is just not much of an option.

Neither is gettin tied up and spanked, which would make me feel OH SO MUCH BETTER, since I can't SMOKE.

Just one more.

That's all I want.

And fuck the makers of Nicorette.

They have NO idea...

Why can't the make cigarettes that aren't bad for you???

Best email received thus far today...

2006-02-17T14:58:00.000-05:00

Notice:
XYZ VENDOR COMPANY IS MOVING
Our phone numbers, address, fax numbers and e-mails will all remain the same.

???

I feel good, DUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH...

2006-02-17T12:47:00.000-05:00

Well.

Scratch the "quit smoking by my birthday" bit. I'll be done long before that. Mr. R has decided to go cold turkey and I have gotten on the bus with Him. Suprisingly, I don't feel near as edgy as I first thought I would. I haven't even used the gum. I have a feeling it doesn't taste very "fresh mint." R is a in a good mood today. I know it's only the first day, but I really thought it would be harder from the get-go.

Last night was kind of funny. We were all "This is our last after-dinner cigarette, this is our last cigarette with a beer, let's have sex so we can share our last after-sex cigarette." We went to bed smokers and woke up non-smokers.

If it stays this easy, we're golden. If not, well, I'm feeling good right now, so I'm just gonna roll with it.

Call me a liar...

2006-02-15T14:53:00.000-05:00

My husband does not scare easily. I would venture to say He could probably count on one hand the number of times He has been truly scared in His life.

He doesn't worry about things. Not at all like I do.

He does not, however, like it when I cry. I am now convinced He will do anything in His power to keep me from crying.

What frightened me, I still don't want to say exactly what it was, could be very real.

It was real enough for Him to ask me to call and make Him an appointment with the doctor. Monday, 10:45.

I think He thought that would relieve some of my anxiety. It did not. He told me not to worry. I still did.

I tried not to cry. I really, really, really did. I'm at work, and don't particularly want to cry in front of my coworkers. I didn't try hard enough.

This time, He never said, "Quit crying."

This time He called me three more times while He was at work and I was at lunch.

The last time He called was to request that I purchase Him a pack of Nicorette gum.

I finally cried some happy tears today.

Never underestimate the power of love.

It's not going to be easy...

2006-02-15T11:43:00.000-05:00

Last night something happened that scared me. Along with something else that I learned today.

I probably overreacted to the exact situation, however, I honestly do have a legitimate reason for concern.

So I have visted Quitnet.

I am going to try to quit by my birthday. It's my 30th. Seems like just as good a time as any. I know better than to try to go cold turkey. They recommended a quit date. That is what I am going to try.

It is not going to be easy. I am not likely to get support from R. He enjoys smoking. What scared me has everything to do with Him. It is a horrible feeling. Gut-wrenching for someone like me, who has a hard time pretending "it's all gonna be ok." However, I know I cannot control His actions or demand that He change.

I can hope. And I can try to change me.

Like I said, it won't be easy.

I may fail.

I may die trying.

Literally.

But I have to try.

If I get a terminal illness, I want to know that I did what I could to prevent it from happening.

I can't just pretend these things don't happen. They do.

I don't want to have to feel that something I did caused someone else pain or grief.

Someone I know just lost their husband due to a similar problem. He was only 61. I am friends with her daughter. Her daughter is worried about her. She knows how lonely her mother will be without him. How terribly sad and lonely she will be...

I can imagine how sad she must feel. Scared and alone.

I don't ever want to feel like that.

I don't think I have a choice.

That just about says it all...

2006-02-14T16:57:00.000-05:00

For you, R.
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

Happy VD

2006-02-14T14:47:00.000-05:00

Someone sent that in an email to our office today. Ew.

How many women out there pretend to not care about Valentine's Day when they really do? I really wonder what the numbers are on that. How many say, "Oh NO, honey. We don't have to do anything. Don't even get me a card. It's a silly holiday anyway." But what they really mean is "You better get me something or I am going to be a total bitch and not tell you why." I'll bet the percentage of women who say they don't care when they really do is higher than say, Sweetest Day. That really is a Hallmark holiday. Even with that holiday though, I still hear many women say they don't want anything.

Sure.

A lot of those women who say they don't want anything, but secretly do, probably aren't really hoping for a huge surprise, like a shiny right-hand ring or a Lexus, but I'd be willing to bet that they are just a little bit disappointed at the end of the day if they didn't get at least a box of chocolates or a card. And some really do want the Lexus. With a right-hand diamond ring tied to the shifter.

I know this because I heard several women in my office, just a few minutes ago, talking about flowers. I was walking around doing my annual equipment inventory check (so fun!) and caught on to the conversation. It seems that someone had flowers and balloons sent to them, but the women downstairs didn't know who they were for. They all pretended they didn't care, but then the truth subtly came out.

"My husband used to do that, but we've been married for years now, so it's really not important anymore," said one of the older workers.

"My fiance sent me a nice arrangement last year," chimed in a younger one, to be married this fall.

"Oh yes," said the older of the two, "I remember. Those were so pretty. I remember that. There were so many colors in it."

"Well, my divorce is final tomorrow," said another younger, but bitter, worker. "So I KNOW I'm not getting any."

Now I think that if a woman didn't care, she wouldn't mention it. She wouldn't have said, "They're probably yours!" to me as I was walking past. She wouldn't have asked me to see if I could see where they were when I went back upstairs, after I said "No, they aren't mine. I haven't seen them." She wouldn't have been sitting down there wondering if maybe the flowers were for her, and maybe the girl up front just hadn't brought them down to her desk yet.

Nope.

She wouldn't talk about it or wonder "Where are those damn things, anyway???".

And she certainly wouldn't write about it in her blog.

I really want this...

2006-02-10T07:54:00.000-05:00

Must do sit ups.

Clicky

I love quickies...

2006-02-03T11:53:00.000-05:00

Quickie 1.

My blog links are WAY out of date. I need to update those this weekend. Out with the old, in with the new. So many have closed down, which actually makes me sad. I feel like a friend moved away. Yeah. I need to get a life.

Quickie 2.

Had a really bad day at work yesterday. Today has not shown much improvement. TGIF.

Quickie 3.

My bank sucks. They are drafting money from the wrong account when I use my debit card. Which caused an overdraft on said account. Twice. They claim it is fixed now. I am doubtful.

Quickie 4.

Happened Wednesday night. It was nice. Fast, furious and messy. The best kind.

It's the little things...

2006-01-31T10:45:00.000-05:00

My friend and I are planning on going downtown for St. Patty's Day next month. I was told the parade is really cool and the bars open at 5:30 AM. Just what we need. I didn't even know they HAD a parade and got the party started so early. Seems everyone else I know was aware of this fact. It makes me wonder what else I'm missing out on...

Anyway, I was approved for the day off, as was my friend. I was telling R that I got the day off and KT and maybe T wanted to go, and then I asked Him if He wanted to go. He said it would depend on who's going. I told Him and He said, "We'll see, you might have more fun by yourselves, but you might need a body guard..."

And I liked the thought of that. Me and my silly friends, escorted by R, in the big city... And then I thought about it some more, and I wondered if they might NOT like that. I don't know. Maybe they would think that He wouldn't let me go without Him. Maybe they wouldn't think anything of it and like Him being there just because He IS fun to go out with. Not one the girls - not by a long shot - but fun nonetheless...

I know that T would always tell her ex that she wished he was more like R. But would she really? To be protective? She is very headstrong and THINKS she knows what she wants. She doesn't want someone to tell her what to do. Where to go. What to wear. How to act. And she certainly wouldn't have liked for him to follow her around. I know this, because he has... But that was more of a spying thing so I guess it's different.

KT is the same way. No one is the boss of her. Especially her BF. But she also has told me she thinks that R and I have a good relationship. And then there is J, who always wants to do the "girls only" thing. It's ok to want to hang with the girls, but it doesn't seem necessary for her to make a point of it everytime she wants to get together.

I know He likes certain things certain ways, and I try to do those things, because I want Him to be happy. Then, when I do, He is happy, so He makes me happy in return. Give and take, right? Isn't that the basis of a good relationship? (And communication, don't forget communication!)

So is it wrong that I like the idea of having a bodyguard? Little old me, protected by the big tough man? I think any girl that says she doesn't want that is lying. I think she was probably told that she is weak if she need a man's protection. Or, God forbid, WANTS a man's protection. She may have been told she needs to take care of herself, that she can't count on someone else to always be there to rescue her. That it is demeaning to be seen as someone that can't fend for herself.

I call bullshit on all of that.

The right kind of man will be there to protect her. To make her feel safe and secure and precious and special. He won't think he is superior and she is inferior. He will cherish her, respect her, and show everyone around that she is something special that should be treated with care. If he doesn't, then he is underserving and she needs to move on.

And since when should a girl be expected to defend herself against a man? I mean, seriously. Most guys are much stronger then most girls. That's just the way it is. If some drunk decides he wants to grab a girl and drag her out back behind the bar, he's not going to look at the girl that has one or more male escort. He is going to watch for the girl that is in her own little world, giggling and laughing and totally oblivious to what is going on around her. He can walk up to her, grab her by the arm, tell her not to fight or he'll hurt her, and lead her away. And if she does try to fight, how much of a chance is she going to have? This is assuming he doesn't have a knife or a gun, because then ALL bets are off. I'm not sure that's a chance I want to take.

OK, OK, I know I went way off on a paranoid ramble there. I do not think that every woman that goes somewhere unescorted is going to end up raped and beaten and killed. I've gone out plenty of times with the girls and we have all had a ton of fun and we have been just fine.

But it is nice to know, when you are out, that He is sitting right over THERE. Watching you laugh and dance with your friends from a distance. And watching the guys watch you. He may be feeling a little pride that someone is watching His woman. He may feel a little more pride when you walk over, he hands you a drink and you thank Him with a kiss. He sees the look of disappointment on the faces of some. He sees the challenge in the eyes of others. They think they can get you.

But if anybody tries anything, they better watch out.

Because that's not about to happen when He's around.

La La La La La...

2006-01-26T09:07:00.000-05:00

Three things I would like to do, pretty much in the order I'd like to do them, if we have extra money in our tax refund. Or if we win the lottery. Which we don't play. So I guess we won't win.

Shut up, this is MY pretend-time.

1. Get my hair done.

Oh, but it is getting so stringy and the ends are splitting and the color is growing out, revealing *gasp* GRAY hair.

Gray.Hair. Not to mention I've basically had this hair, um, style (?) for approximately 12 years now. I don't even think I have the right to call it a style. It's just kind of there, growing out of my head and looking really boring. How can I be expected to live under these conditions? Surely, I'm much too young for this!

2. Buy a new, sexy outfit.

Shoes and all. I'm talking about stopping traffic here. Little dress, tall heels, slutty stockings. Oops, did someone get a peek at something when I reached over to get my drink? Tee hee. The kind of outfit that makes jealous girls mutter "Look at that whore!" to her friends. The kind of outfit that makes R say, "Holy shit, you are NOT leaving the house like that...Let's go." The kind that makes guys we know say "Damn! No wonder He married her. We TOTALLY missed out, dude." The kind that makes guys we don't know say, "Damn! Is she with Him? Because I'd like to get a piece of that. I'm gonna go talk to her." And when one tries, R shoots His this-is-mine-asshole-you-better-back-off look, causing the poor guy to retreat back to his beer and his friends with his tail between his legs.

3. Pay a visit to the strip club.

I have been to one in my whole entire life. In Las Vegas. I was so sleepy after flying through time zones and not sleeping on the plane that I couldn't fully enjoy it. I do remember that one of the stippers was a guy in drag. I did have fun though, and I'd like to go again. I'd like to watch R watch the girls dance. So long as there aren't any guys in drag. That could get ugly. Barring that, I'm sure He'd be all, "Oh, she's not that pretty. Her boobs are just TOO big. And seriously, why would she want to shake her ass like that? Right in my face! Can you believe it? I am just appalled."

Yes, I'm sure the conversation would be something similar to that. Because I would have on the aforementioned outfit, and nobody, NOT EVEN stripper girls with fake boobs, could POSSIBLY look better to Him than I.

NOBODY.

This concludes my Thursday morning daydream.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

I am a lovesick fool...

2006-01-24T14:45:00.000-05:00

I think this is so neat. There are even two set in the Caribbean.

YourNovel.com

Yes, I am that lame.

S.T.R.E.S.S

2006-01-24T10:48:00.000-05:00

Just yesterday, I was telling my friend at work that I am the bug in that whole "some days you're the windshield..." saying.

I suppose it's just my pessimistic nature, but lately it seems my luck has been really down.

Today's breaking news is that R has lost his wallet. He has lost his wallet containing credit cards, a bank card, his license, his insurance cards, some club membership cards, and at least 4 cards with his social security number on it. The last time he remembers having it is Sunday at the gas station.

The credit cards have been canceled and new ones ordered. New insurance cards have been ordered. I have to go today at lunch to close and reopen our bank accounts, because his wallet had the account numbers in it.

So what is a pessimistic, paranoid person to do?

Why, nothing else but think about identity theft!

What?!?

It COULD happen. It happens all the time. You've heard the horror stories on the news where peoples lives have been ruined and how they spend all their time to prove that "no I DIDN"T use my credit card for THAT. I don't even have that credit card. That's NOT ME!"

I know. Chill. Relax. I worry too much.

People lose their wallets everyday, right?

No big deal, right?

R isn't that worried.

Why do I have to be such a worrier?!? Gah!

So it's Sunday night...

2006-01-22T21:33:00.000-05:00

9:34 PM. And what am I doing? Dreading work tomorrow, listening to Sirius Classic Vinyl, and thinking about how I need to blog more. Therapy, ya know?

I could blog about the incredible whipping and sex I had last weekend. I could blog about how I went out with KT on Wednesday and got all silly and danced around half naked in front of R for 2 hours after I got home. I was very tired the next day.

But no.

Instead, I will do this. Which I got from Lady Calliah, whom I found via Angel.

Boring, I know.

But too bad. It's my blog and I can do what I want.

01. What is your favorite word? Muches. OK, not really a word, but to me it is. As in when R says "I love you muches."

02. What is your least favorite word? Shlep

03. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Reading romantic novels. I can picture myself in the book doing whatever the main character is doing.

04. What turns you off? Hatred

05. What is your favorite curse word? Fuck

06. What sound or noise do you love? The noises R makes, when he's really, really enjoying my body.

07. What sound or noise do you hate? Yelling. From anybody.

08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Antiques/collectibles dealer

09. What profession would you not like to do? Anything for "the man".

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "Welcome, this way to everyone you've ever loved who arrived here before you."

I think I need to start doing this again...

2006-01-20T09:05:00.000-05:00

I feel better when I get things out. When I do it here, I'm not directly complaining to anyone. I can't directly hurt anyone's feelings. I can make myself feel better.

I won't have anyone to tell me everything will be ok. I don't get that anyway. But I also won't have anyone to tell me to shut up and stop worrying. To tell me that I should have known it was going to be this way. That I could do without.

I can't talk to other people about what is bothering me. That would upset someone. Though talking to a neutral party would probably help, and let me think about things more rationally. I try to keep it all in. I can only keep it in for so long, and soon I blow up at the one person I was trying to keep it from, trying not to upset, trying not to drag down with me.

I really think if I start here again, it might help.

It certainly can't hurt.

Boom Booms...

2005-12-28T14:22:00.000-05:00

It's thundering.

In December.

In Ohio.

I rike it.

Funny things heard on Christmas...

2005-12-27T10:47:00.000-05:00

Grandmother: "He likes tuna?" Said with heavy Tennessee accent, regarding a she and something completely unrelated to tuna. Turn up the hearing aid, ok?

R's Dad: "jag, you can get up on the table and dance if you want to. I won't mind." Huh? No more wine for him, k?

Grandmother again: Again, with heavy Tennessee accent: "Wow! A won a thousand, two thousand, fiftain hunnert, a doller..." before we explained how instant scratch off tickets work..."No no, you have to match the numbers, you don't just get the amounts for scratching them off..."

R's Dad: "No one gives better head than B (R's mom)." Slurred after R poured a rather bubbly glass of wine. Followed by R and his brother covering their ears and yelling "LA LA LA LA LA WE CAN'T HEAR YOU LA LA LA."

I'm sure there were more, but at least one would have to reveal names to get the full effect. And we don't do that here.

He likes tuna.... Bwa ha ha ha!

Funny thing heard today at work.

2005-12-22T12:59:00.000-05:00

From my boss.

"Can we schedule the frequency of the dump?"

*giggle giggle*

Thanksgiving...

2005-12-01T12:46:00.000-05:00

On Thanksgiving Day, we went to R's parents house, having already suffered through a dinner with my mom's side of the family on the previous Sunday.

We decided to take D-pup with us. That way we wouldn't feel guilty about leaving her at home, and she would get a chance to socialize with another canine, R's brother's dog, C-dog.

D-pup isn't fully housetrained yet. Actually, she's probably not even half-way housetrained. I heard pugs were hard to break and whomever told me that was either very accurate in their statement, or they put a curse on me. We have to keep a close eye on her, and we take her out often, hoping she'll eventually get the idea.

It was very cold on Thanksgiving and there were a few inches of snow on the ground thanks to an Alberta clipper that came through the night before. After we were there a bit, R decided to take D-pup out to go potty,with C-dog in tow. C-dog is old and trained. She knows that you are supposed to do your business outside. She is also jealous and did not like the D-pup hanging around, mooching what would potentially be her treats.

I believe that is when she set out to kill her.

R and I were outside watching the dogs, hoping D-pup would pee quickly and we could go back in. No such luck, as C-dog had already put her plan in motion. After making pee, she took off running, sure that D-pup would follow. And she did. Back and forth they ran - D-pup barking and squealing in delight and not peeing and just having a grand old time. I remember muttering something about maybe putting C-dog in the house so D-pup would calm down and piddle, but I was dismissed.

So they continued, C-dog thinking she was slowly luring D-pup to a cold demise, and D-pup having the time of her life in the wet snow, bounding after her new best friend.

Eventually they ended up in the front yard. Again I mentioned that perhaps this wasn't a good idea, and maybe we should put C-dog in because she did pee already, and they are going down the deck, and they are getting near the pond and they are getting really close to the pond and...

"OH MY GOD she is in the pond! C-dog led her to the pond and turned and D-pup walked right into it and OH MY GOD she is going to freeze to death and drown and THAT DOG TRIED TO KILL MY DOG because we gave her CHEESE!"

And as I am screaming something along those lines, I am running down the deck, down the front yard, towards the pond where my little baby puppy is getting dragged out to sea - can ponds have low tide? - and R is running behind me yelling "Do NOT go in the water. DO NOT GO IN THE WATER! JAG! DO NOT GO IN TH WATER!!!"

I thought he was far behind me. I remember thinking "Why isn't He helping me? D-pup is going to die and all He can do is yell for me to not go in the water? I have to SAVE HER!"

SPLOOSH!!!

Next thing I know, I am scooping my pupsicle out of the water, turning around and handing her to R.

How did he get there so fast?

Hmm. Unless he was right behind me the whole time, and maybe knew that he could reach the pup without going WAIST DEEP into the frigid water, and THAT'S why he was yelling at me to not go in the water...

Yeah. At that point I figured I'd better get my ass in the house.

I sloshed up to the garage, and by the time I made it there, my legs would hardly move. R handed the dog to his brother, who kindly (yeah, he better be nice, his dog just tried to MURDER my dog) took her inside to dry her off.

R continued to scold me for running into the water. My feeble replies of "but I told you something bad would happen if we brought her here" and "I had to get her out of the water" were not convincing, even in my own head, that I had made a wise decision in my rescue attempt. R's mom just winked at me, as if to say, "yes, I know my son is yelling at you right now, but he didn't want you to freeze to death on Thanksgiving and he really COULD HAVE gotten to her with out going that far in the water, but hey, it's all good now, let's go in and drink some wine."

I trudged into the house, feeling very foolish and made pond-watery tracks to the bathroom where I patiently waited for R to bring me dry clothes his mom let me borrow.

I changed into the sweats, handed Him my clothes, and hid in the bathroom for a while. Finally, He told me to come out of there and join everyone, and I shyly made my way to the living room, where I spotted my little D-pup shivering, wrapped in a blanket by the fire next to R's brother.

His brother said he would have done the same thing, which made me feel a litte less stupid. And I did have comfortable sweats on...

So, D-pup lived, C-dog only pouted a little, and we all had much wine and a very merry time.

I guess I can be thankful for that.

Someday...

2005-11-18T07:41:00.000-05:00

I would like to be Number One.

Important.

Horribly selfish.

I hate it when...

2005-11-16T16:13:00.000-05:00

I walk into the bathroom at work after someone has taken a dump. Not only for obvious reasons, but because I am afraid that someone will walk in after me and think I made that atrocious smell and unsuccessfully tried to mask it with Lysol spray.

I know everyone thinks their shit don't stink, but damn.

Someone needs to lay off the cabbage.

Enough already

2005-11-15T15:10:00.000-05:00

No more sad stuff for a while.

Needed to get that last post off the top.

So with a few more extra spaces....

I won't be able to see it...

If only I could think of something witty to say instead of just doing this.

Buy why start now?

I don't even know what to say...

2005-11-07T16:23:00.000-05:00

Our friend's son died on Saturday.

He was 13.

He was in an accident on a 4-wheeler.

What do I say?

How do I comfort?

I feel so clumsy.

Stupid bikers...

2005-10-20T08:16:00.000-05:00

R and I decided to go out for a ride last night since the weather forecast indicated a major drop in temperature for the foreseeable future. It's always sad when the riding season comes to an end. I called a couple friends and we cruised around for a while, stopping here and there at some local bars. It was a bit brisk, but it was fun.

We got home kind of late. When we got home, R pulled the bike in the garage, shut the garage door and we went inside. I took D-puppy outside to go potty.

Our front door has a lock on it that stays locked when you open it from the inside, unless you actually turn the lock to unlock it and then open the door. I know this. I went out, left the door open a little bit, and set the puppy down in the grass.

A few minutes later, R decided to join me outside. He came out the door, and pulled it shut.

"Oh no you didn't."

"What?" pause "Oh shit. I just shut the door."

"Yep. You sure did."

"Oh my god. What are we gonna do? We're locked out."

"Um. I don't know. We don't have a key hidden anywhere. I guess I'll have to see if I can get in the garage window."

"Isn't it locked?"

"I didn't relock it yet. Did you?"

"Yeah."

"You did?"

"No, I'm just kidding."

"Aren't you just so funny."

I unlocked the gate, walked around the house to the window and studied it for a while. It was still open a bit, but the screen that is in the window comes out from the inside. Not helpful. I tried pushing on the screen. Didn't budge. The little knobby things that you pull on to remove it were on the other side of the screen. There was no way I was getting those pulled from the outside. After fully analyzing the configuration, I decided the only way to get in was to cut the screen.

I walked back around the house and through the gate.

"Well, the window is still unlocked, but I can't get the screen out from the outside. Do you have anything sharp on you? I'm just going to have to cut the screen."

"No, I don't have anything," says R, checking his pockets. "Oh wait a minute."

He reached into his pocket and said, "Here, I have the bike key."

He dangled the bike key in the air.

pause

"Oh. Look. I have the house key, too."

"What? Oh my god. You're lucky I didn't get that screen out and crawl through that window. You had a key the whole time."

"Well, I guess we can go in now."

"Dumbass."

Sent to me at work...

2005-10-19T14:41:00.000-05:00

Sent to me at work...
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

And totally cracked me up. So I'm not PC. This is funny.

Another boring blog entry...

2005-10-18T08:26:00.000-05:00

R's phone broke the other day. Ever since then, I have been getting uncontrollable urges to text message Him. Of course, I can't, so there is nothing I can do. Well I could, but He wouldn't get the messages. So I just sit and think of the different messages I could send Him. If His phone was fine, I wouldn't feel the need to send Him all these pointless, cutesy messages I have a tendency to inflict upon Him. I have also been thinking, "What if I NEED to CALL Him?" To which He responded, when I asked Him, "Call's K's phone." Fine. Except K's wife thought he was cheating on her a while back and what if SHE has HIS phone because he accidentally left it at home and she answers and thinks I'm his girlfriend?" She'll never buy the "Oh, R's phone broke and he told me to call K if I needed anything." Mmm-hmm.

Just little OCD behavior for you there.

I blame Sprint for this.

*****************

In other news...

D-puppy is doing well. She is clearly fully paper trained as she has not yet had an accident in the house, but her paper usually has a little present for me when I get home from work. Fine with me. She'll go outside too, but she can't get down the stairs to the door yet to tell us she wants out. She can get up the stairs after I let her back in, though. Once she can go down them, I'm going to see if I can teach her to paw at the door like Z-dog used to do. Of course, Z-dog was so humongous that it was more like someone knocking on the door, I don't know if I'd hear D-puppy.

*****************

Much to R's dismay, I turned on the furnace last night. That was just one of the many little things I did to get on His already frayed nerves. The whole dinner-wasn't-made-when-He-got-home thing didn't help either. Aaaaaaaaaaand I forgot to empty the diswasher. I pretty much just sat on my ass playing with the dog.

Bad wifey.

But I still don't understand why the furnace being on is a big deal. It was cold last night. Of course, I am a total freeze baby, and He is always hot, so I guess that's one reason. So here's me, in my new flannel jammies, and Him in shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. And no socks! My toes would freeze and fall off!

******************

Do you ever go longer than usual with no sex? Like when you are in a kind of sad, life sucks, why bother state? Then you start to worry about how everyone says getting married changes things, and oh my god it's only been like two months, but what if that happens and then he gets a girlfriend and I don't know about it but everyone else does and everyone laughs at me and.....

Whoa, OCD attack again.

It's fine. In fact, Sunday night was rock your world, can't last much longer fine! He told me to stop but I couldn't stop fine. Ooooh.

Just thinking about it makes me want to send Him a text message.

Gah!!!!

Happy days are here again...

2005-10-15T19:50:00.000-05:00

OK.

So I'm mostly out of my "losing Z-dog funk".

And now I'm in the "I have a cool new puppy and a really nice husband" happy days.

Yay me!

D-puppy

2005-10-13T10:57:00.000-05:00

Puppy Love
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

My house doesn't feel so empty anymore. And she tries to play with Z-dog's big toys. And she snores. And sleeps on our laps.

If you're really sad

2005-10-12T15:26:00.000-05:00

If you're really sad
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

because your dog died, and you have a really nice husband like mine, he will call and find you one of these to go look at and maybe take home.

I just died in your arms tonight...

2005-10-09T20:10:00.000-05:00

That song was playing at the gas station when we stopped to get gas after having Z-dog put to sleep.

I always hated that song.

I stayed with her. It was much more peaceful than I expected.

It was the hardest thing I've had to do so far in my life.

I am going to miss her so much. She was such a good dog. Even though she slobbered everywhere and left hair everywhere and made a mess of just about everything.

She was always there for me when I was sad.

She licked the tears off my face for the last time today.

I don't have anyone to give my leftover food to.

I'll never hear her snore again, or how she would groan when she'd lay down to go to sleep. Or that squeaky thing she did when she yawned. Or how she'd paw at the closet door when we were going somewhere because she thought her leash was in there. How she'd wait for R at the bathroom in the morning because he had to pee first. How she would come into the bedroom every night for her butt scratch before she went to bed. How excited she'd get at the words "ride" or "truck".

I told her tonight she was going for a ride in the truck. And even though she was sick she got excited, and pawed at the door for her leash.

I hope she had a good last ride.

I miss you Z-dog.

Thirsty Dog

2005-10-09T20:08:00.000-05:00

Thirsty Dog
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

Look at my cool collar that KT got me for Christmas. KT was afraid of me, but I wouldn't have hurt her. I liked my water too. I escpecially liked to slobber on anything in my way after drinking bunches of it.

I got a bone

2005-10-09T20:07:00.000-05:00

Grrrr..
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

Look at her eyes. I promise she did not always look this evil. She loved her bones though.

Don't write me off yet, mom...

2005-10-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

So Z-dog must have decided she ain't quite ready to go yet. She's all pepped up again, with the exception of her tumor-infested knee. She got up with R today for breakfast and ATE IT ALL. Yesterday she got up with me. She's still wagging her butt (it's so funny to see a dog without a tail that doesn't know they don't have a tail).

No, I'm not in denial. I know she isn't going to get better. Just taking it day by day. It could be tomorrow, It could be next week. I know it will be soon.

But for right now, she is still here and gives me lots of doggie kisses and licks my tears when I cry for her.

Operation Eden

2005-10-06T08:00:00.000-05:00

Operation Eden

Wow.

And old picture of a healthy Z-dog

2005-10-04T14:08:00.000-05:00

zdog
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

I think she was 2 here. It's not a really good picture.

It won't be long now...

2005-10-04T13:53:00.000-05:00

A few more days, at most.

Z-dog is on her last leg. Her last 3 legs to be exact.

The tumor is huge. And hard. She's licking it a lot, so it must feel wrong to her in some way - painful or itchy or just generally bad. Today she hopped out the door on three legs. I can't bear to watch her anymore.

She doesn't want to get up for breakfast anymore. For the last couple of days, she has been leaving food in her bowl. A huge sign that something is wrong.

I called the vet, and based on her last visit a few weeks ago, and my description of her now, she hasn't got much time left. They wanted to give her some sort of patch that they would put around her tail. Except that she doesn't have a tail. :) I guess they could stick it on her belly. They called it something medical-sounding, but it's basically an end-of-life-keep-'em-comfy morphine patch. At $169 for 4 days worth, and the fact that it doesn't start working for about 2 weeks, I ruled that out. Morphine pills were $24 for 6 doses. That would be 3 days worth, tops.

I'm not going to medicate her anymore. I can't afford it, and I don't want her to be all doped up. She is still on her Rimadyl.

I can't afford to have her cremated privately either, so she will be cooked with the rest of the doggies and sent off to doggie heaven. Burying her would be too difficult, not to mention if something dug her up because we didn't get her deep enough. Don't want to go there.

The vet says I can bring her in any time, to, well, you know.

I'm very sad, but I also have a feeling of peace which tells me I must be doing the right thing.

I hope she knows that.

Or doesn't know anything. That would be even better.

Bye Z-dog. I love you.

Dammit

2005-09-28T07:46:00.000-05:00

What the hell is with the anonymous spam comments? I suppose the only way to block those is to allow only registered users to comment?

Not that anyone comments that much, but I don't want to just turn off commenting.

Fuckers. I don't care about your car insurance or gold finding solution or anything else.

Leave my blog alone.

Well, what did you expect...

2005-09-28T07:31:00.000-05:00

Nobody rubbed my face with a wet washcloth this morning.

What?

Yeah, a wet washcloth. Nobody did.

In my (odd) family, when it was your birthday, mom barged into your room in the morning hollering Happy Birthday!!! and then proceeded to rub a wet washcloth on your face.

Why?

I don't know.

But it was tradition. Every year.

And nobody did it this year.

Hey everybody, look at me...

2005-09-27T08:32:00.000-05:00

I am gimpy. Apparantly I have tendonitis ,which I thought was something only old people got. It hurts, I know that. I have to wear this stupid brace on my wrist that makes it rather difficult to type. And I get to use the mouse with my left hand. And everyone keeps asking me, "What'd you do?" At least it isn't broken, as I originally thought. I can take this thing off to shower. Casts suck.

I'm not going to be an aunt anymore. At least not for now. SIL had a miscarriage. Well, kind of. I don't really understand. It is dead, but still inside her, which seems kind of creepy to me. If she doesn't pass it withing a few days, they'll have to remove it. I called my brother and he sounded rather sad. I heard his voice break when he said goodbye. I cried because I made him cry. But, as cold-hearted as this may sound, it happened for a reason. At least that is what I believe. It all works out how it's supposed to, whether you like it or not.

I wish I had something good to think about. I'm trying to come up with something. Um. Let's see. We got rid of the old ugly refrigerator that was in our basement. So now we can rearrange our basement. We are supposed to get rocks this weekend to complete my little rock garden in the back yard. (Thank you R, for tolerating my silly ideas.) Um. Gas is still under $3 per gallon...for now.

Yeah. That's about all I got.

Depressing.

Dark and Gray....

2005-09-26T08:28:00.000-05:00

They sky is a dark gray today. Sometimes this weather makes me feel tired and sad, but today it is comforting. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it is still warm. It should be upsetting me. The rain has been frequent lately. It is dark and gloomy more than it is bright and sunny. Soon it will be cooling off, then winter will arrive and work will slow. I have already started to worry about that, even though R tells me not to worry and that everything will be ok. I want to believe Him. And, I do believe Him, when He pulls me into His lap and strokes my hair and whispers that everything will be fine. But when I am by myself, driving or at work, in the silence, thinking too much, I start to worry again. What good does worrying do? None. What good does crying do? None.

But sometimes, I just can't help it.

This is not how I want to be. I don't want to worry. I don't want to be sad. Or scared. It makes my head and neck hurt. It makes me tired. I want to be happy go lucky. I want to smile more. I want everything to be just right. I want good luck. I want to be able to wake up and not think about anything bad. I want to look forward to the holidays.

Maybe next year.

A knot in my stomach...

2005-09-16T13:19:00.000-05:00

I have the uncanny ability to worry about everything under the sun. If there isn't anything to worry about, I will create something. It really is a horrible habit that I wish I could break.

Right now R has Z-dog at the vet. It is just for her regular vaccinations and to refill her medications. Why I am worried is beyond me. I suppose my over-active imagination is telling me that they will discover that her cancer is far worse than I expect it to be and R will have to come home with out my doggie.

Her tumor is getting quite large, but aside from her very noticeable limp, she seems to be fine. She still plays and barks and eats and begs and does all of the other doggie things she has always done. It makes me very sad to think about it.

I don't want her to hurt, and a part of me, which causes me to feel much guilt, almost wishes that it would just take her, so the wait would be over. How selfish is that? But then I think about not having my doggie anymore and it just breaks my heart.

I have to stop now. It is making me too sad to think about it anymore.

I can't move past it. Unless...

2005-09-16T10:58:00.000-05:00

Is it wrong to want to be punished for doing something wrong? Is it odd that I will continue to feel guilty unless I am punished? That being punished makes me feel absolved? Forgiven? Like I have been given a clean slate. It tells me, you were wrong, it is over, now you will start over and be good.

My smart mouth and nasty attitude can get me in trouble. I know this, usually as soon as the words form on my lips. Yet I don't stop myself and continue to spew until I have upset someone.

This time it was Him.

Will I be forgiven, or will I be forced to carry the guilt?

I suppose that would be a worse punishment for me. Almost like torture, as it eats away at me, a constant thought in the back of my mind.

Please forgive me.

I would like to try again.

Today is better...

2005-09-15T11:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a total cluster fuck of a day. I felt like I couldn't get anything right. People were coming to be with brand new problems that I had no experience with and no idea where to even start to try to solve them.

I HATE days like that. They give me headaches.

Today I feel better, having passed the buck on a few of the problems. Not intentionally just to be lazy, but because I truly have no idea how to figure out the problems. Time to wait for tech support to give me a clue. And you know how quickly tech support personnel respond to help requests. Yeah. I should have an answer for my clients by Friday. In October. Of 2006.

So I spent yesterday feeling fairly useless, which, in turn, made me a little insecure, which in turn ruined what could have been a really fun evening involving R, a game called Intimate Commands, and some cold beverages. Oh well, at least he got a lap dance out of it before it all went downhill.

Tonight is a date night! Which should be fun. That must be the explanation as to why I could be in such a good mood today after such a crappy hump day. We're trying out steaks from a place we've not had them before. But it gets raving reviews from our fellow steak eaters, so I am not afraid. Bring on the steak and beer. Or steak and Jack and coke. Guess I have a decision to make...

Now the question is, will R want me to wear a skirt, or will we take the bike? Cuz I don't do both. Well once, for the wedding, but that was just in the campground. And I didn't care if they saw up my skirt. I think there are laws against that here. You know, showing your hoo-ha in public is bad, or something. Anyway, it's a tough decision for Him because He really likes to ride and it's getting late in the year, but He also really likes to put His hand up my skirt at dinner. Hmmmm...wonder which it will be tonight?

Firemen September 11, 2001

2005-09-11T22:08:00.000-05:00

Firemen September 11, 2001
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

looting vs find

2005-09-09T07:19:00.000-05:00

This still pisses me off.

looting vs find
Originally uploaded by JaG27z.

I Heart Goodwill

2005-09-01T13:45:00.000-05:00

I went on a shopping spree at lunch.

I got:

1 Pair Tommy cordouroys that have a little tie-up lace in the back and fringed pant legs.

1 Brand New! Old Navy sparkly denim jacket with the tag STILL on it.

1 pair denim shorts.

1 too-short denim skirt that R is sure to love.

1 Express bustier. Even though I'm not very busty.

4 Look-new-off-the-bookstore-shelf Romance novels.

And how much did all of this cost me?

$19.08!

Boo-yah! Who's the bargain shopper, baby?

Piss and moan...

2005-09-01T08:15:00.000-05:00

Well. Don't have much to say lately. At least not anything fun.

Gas prices. Yeah. They suck. Can't really say much about it that someone hasn't already said. Just that I'll be staying home a lot more than I want to, and that I really wish now that I hadn't sold my GZ250. That little bike got phenomenal mileage. Oh well. Hindsight...

Katrina. Isn't that a bitchy sounding name? (Apologies to anyone really named Katrina - but I bet you were a cheerleader and would not have been nice to me if we went to high school together.) It's just all horrible. And what about all the countries coming to our rescue? Oh. That's right. They aren't. Course, we're not really well liked around the world, now are we? Who would want to help us?

I can't really understand the logic in rebuilding that area. I mean, yeah, it was a cool city and I never got to go to Mardi Gras and I really want to, but honestly. Does it make sense to chance it again? Guess it's like all those people living in California. "It won't fall in the ocean. Earthquake smearthquake. Put my mansion right there near that fault line."

Trojan.dialer. I have one. It has been on my machine for months. AVG finds it. It cleans it. It comes back. It causes Internet Explorer to hang (I know, I know. I use Mozilla, but there are still a few things Mozilla doesn't support - like all the hurricane footage videos from MSNBC.com). It runs all these porn sites in the background. You can't actually see them. You just see them pop up in task manager, and once you close them (about 12 in all) IE is fine. Until the next time you open it. So pissing me off.

Z-dog's tumor seems to be getting bigger. She's not acting any different though, other than her limp. She's still eating and playing and barking and drinking and pooping and barking and pooping. Pretty much in that order. Still wags her butt at us. Still brings us her slobbery toys. The wait for the inevitable continues...sigh

Summer is almost over. This sucks. I'm so not ready for another winter. Not at all. Not ready to buy Christmas presents. Not ready for snow and ice and slush and how it turns all brown and crappy from it snowing then melting a little then getting plowed over to the ditches. Ugh. And fall generally sucks around here. A few weeks of 50 degree weather, then - HELLO - it's now 30 degrees. On Halloween.

Anything good happening lately? Seems like there isn't. Maybe R can smack my ass tonight for being so negative. Something to make me feel better.

That would be fun.

Tiddie Bitties...

2005-08-23T11:22:00.000-05:00

R has scolded me for not blogging. I'm sorry. I can't blog at work and once I am home I lose the mood. Maybe if my computer was upstairs *ahem* instead of in the icky basement...

So all you are getting today is a few tid bits of stuff in my head.

----------

We did a scene Sunday night which involved a cat-of-nines, a video camera, and battery operated, um, utensils. It didn't go how I pictured in my mind. I was a bit disappointed. Not physically, but emotionally. Something was off. Maybe I'm just off. There hasn't been much, shall we say, "domming" going on lately. I don't really like to be let loose for so long. I need the direction. Otherwise I get lost. I felt kind of separated afterwards. Guess it just didn't end the way I wanted it to. But that happens, I suppose. Try, try again.

---------

I heard about this site on the news that lets married people place personal ads for other married people. A cheating-spouses-personals site. R and I were printing some vacation pictures last night, and while we were waiting I was poking around the net and stumbled onto it. Next thing you know, I am creating an account to see if we can find anyone we know on there. It was a bit disappointing, the people on there are VERY dicreet. I suppose if yuo are a cheating spouse you have to be. I wouldn't know.

When you sign up, you have to provide an email address. So I created a yahoo address and today had over 10 people email me. My god. I posted no picture, just my age and different, um, interests. I didn't lie about any of it, except for the fact that I am doing all that stuff WITH MY HUSBAND and not someone else's.

You can chat with these people. While I was on, three people tried to contact me. I don't understand. I had been logged on less than 1 hour, and there they were. Can their lives be that miserable? Do they just like the not-quite-cheating they can do via the internet? One guy even gave me his phone number. His phone number! So I can call and we can "meet for drinks or more."

Um, hold on. Lemme go as my husband. Yikes!

I don't think my account will remain active for much longer.

----------

Saturday is our reception. I suppose it will be fun, but something is sure to go wrong. Like, for instance, the fact that my family will be there. OH! Did I say that? I mean, I love my family, but they are so completely opposite of me, and our friends, who make up most of the guest list. I cannot be myself in front of my family. They are much too judgmental. R does not understand this and thinks I should just do what I normally do and act how I normally act.

Meaning he thinks that if I want to drink I should drink, but HELLO, my mom doesn't drink and only the spawns of Satan drink alcohol and OH MY GOD SMOKE CIGARETTES! How can you look at yourself in the morning knowing what you do? I don't care how old you are! I will continue to make you feel like an irresponsible 14 year old until THE DAY I DIE.

And that's just my mom. My brother is a whole different story. At 25, he's still all about "Mom, do you know what my sister did?" Seriously.

And next thing you know I'm crying and feeling like a huge disappointment and wanting to run away and hide under a rock until they all are far, far away from me.

Yeah. Should be fun.

Welcome Back Sturgis Riders...

2005-08-17T10:32:00.000-05:00

I'm back. I'm now Mrs. R.

Here are some things I learned on our vacation/wedding/honeymoon trip.

1. Sturgis is really, really cool.
2. There are lots of boobies to look at.
3. I like to say husband. It makes me all giggly. Husband. Husband. Husband. Husband. tee hee hee.
4. Consumating a marriage outside between two RV's in a home made wooden camp chair at 3 in the morning can cause severe mental anguish to those who catch you in the act. Sorry 'bout that.
5. Do not touch your leg to the tailpipe of a Harley that has just been shut off. When you are wearing shorts. ouch
6. If your bike breaks down, you can still have lots of fun.
7. Jack Daniels is good.
8. Deadwood is almost as cool looking as it is on the show.
9. Bear Butte is not pronounced Bear Butt.
10. Playing in the Pecker Pond can get you a really cool prize. (I've always wanted a silver bullet)
11. The mechanical bull will bruise your legs even if they go really, really slow because you took your top off.

I'm sure there are more, but I forget now.

More details to come. Hopefully. By now you all know I'm not so good at following up with a story.

Like the sex club story. Ooooooooooooooh....What did happen....Stay tuned...

I may have time this weekend.