tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-292669992024-03-07T01:43:17.187-05:00For the Love of God, The Monkey had to Go!NO LONGER IN SERVICE- SORRY FOR THE INCONVIENCEUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger112125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-45798718643777869452007-05-11T20:37:00.000-05:002007-05-11T20:38:21.666-05:00If you had not figured it out yet....This blog has gone out of buisness.....<br /><br />move along, move along.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-9185384272468640362007-04-05T20:49:00.000-05:002007-04-06T18:30:39.980-05:00The pollen is making me high....I feel my feet pound the pavement, one rhythmic foot after another... I watch my shadow, laughing to myself, I do move to the sound of the music, my feet hit on the base line, my body turning slightly to the beat.. I watch my strong shoulders, the small twisting of my narrow waist, my arms held tense, gripping my phone and trying desperately to keep the cord from my radio from hitting me in the face. Still I hold my pose, that strong determined stance that gets me through these brutal workouts. I have always hated running, but my trip to London demanded I find a way to relieve stress and work off the booze.. and in those runs around Hyde Park I found a new friend and a new way to be free if only for an hour... The sun beats down as I round the corner, no longer guarded by the tree lined neighborhoods, I run along side the busy highway. My over sized sunglasses bounce on the bridge of my nose, they hurt, I can feel them bruising me... but they shield me from making eye contact with the passerbys. I can't look at anyone today. I just can't... It's a Beautiful Day ironically plays on the radio, and I feel myself caught in the mood of the song. My pace quickens and I lunge forward racing the invisible girl who runs beside me ever soo close... I love when a video is powerful enough to invade your psyche, I can almost feel the airplanes roaring overhead... I can almost feel the rush of air and hear the roar of the engines, perhaps it is just the race of the rush hour traffic that I am projecting, but I feel something shift... I feel a change in the climate, the heat has not dissipated but I feel a rush of freshness to the air.. I feel a renewed sense of energy.. I needed to run today... I needed to run away to regain me... sometimes when thing are soo fucked you have to run.... run, run,run, away... and once in while let the little invisible you catch up.. hold it close and remember who your really are....Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-25881514527717809982007-04-02T19:47:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:21.473-05:00I finally found em....<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RhGkoPWdcDI/AAAAAAAAAL4/SywnROancdg/s1600-h/temptsss.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048997668481495090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RhGkoPWdcDI/AAAAAAAAAL4/SywnROancdg/s320/temptsss.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Going to Gold's Gym at lunch time is like hitting pay dirt... Wall to wall men....all the hotties getting hot and sweaty just for me, well not really but ya know what I mean.... working the elliptical, poured into my look at my ass running pants, tiny tank pushing up the girls just so, and sporting that what I am watching on this tiny ass screen glued to my machine is so fucking funny smile... within about 2 seconds a couple jockeys pony up on the machines next to me.. sweat mixes with sneaky side glances, shy smiles, arching the back, sticking out the bootie ever so slightly for the passerbys. I love men, beautiful gullible easily manipulated creatures.. these muscle bound jocks are making me hot, I am about to escort one to the handicapped bathroom for a little doggy style action over the sink.. but I don't, cuz I am not that dirty.. seriously I am not... another time maybe... but hell, I am coming back every friggin day....</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-51750193022220898692007-04-02T15:15:00.000-05:002007-04-02T14:16:26.104-05:00Random comments - and shit I had saved as drafts...funny I constantly feel like I am teetering the ledge of lose control... but gotta hold it together merely <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cuz</span> little people depend on me for life, love and security... I think hadn't I had kids, I would've ended up some melodramatic rock and roll tragedy... draped over a dumpster outside the Viper Room or something like that... but I constantly aim for the best I can be.. almost compulsively <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">soo</span>, fixing one thing at a time, till I am whole....pieces is what we all are, no right way to put together this people puzzle together, just different arrangements... gotta be who you were destined to be....Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-76097143320966423882007-04-01T20:24:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:21.555-05:00I have decided...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RhBpPPWdcBI/AAAAAAAAALo/bxHHMrrRT68/s1600-h/master.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048650892822016018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RhBpPPWdcBI/AAAAAAAAALo/bxHHMrrRT68/s320/master.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RhBorPWdcAI/AAAAAAAAALg/W6CjdnOl3P8/s1600-h/stullslsls.JPG"></a>to find myself the perfect man... my lil plastic showpieces can only substitute for soo long.. if a man can get off on the pocket pussy and be satisified... then good for him! But this girl needs a tad bit more, I have a couple nice little coffee table models of my own... but they are missing a little somethin, somethin... I know there are alternatives out there, believe me, I have tried em all. But nothing beats the initial slide in and feel of a real cock... Nothing beats that hit the top, pound your ass like there is no tomorrow, knock you senseless against the head board cock... Ideally a man should be able to pound the shit out of me, and be able to deflate quickly and into a nice shoe box to be stored under my bed. But alas, they haven't invented that model yet, so in the meantime I need man. A man that can't talk, only sit there and nod approvingly. One with only eyes for me and a nice big disease free cock for me to climb on and ride at will... I need a man that understands I am a busy girl, and can not bothered or detained. One that doesn't get jealous, with my flirty eyes, or my baby doll voice... One that doesn't take the remote and turn off Girlfriends, or try to tell me Jonathan Rhy Meyers is not the hottest man to walk the friggin earth... cuz he is, sorry to say... one that would watch me get off and join at the exact right moment, riding the waves of my orgasm as they shake him to his core.. None of that rush me shit, and messing with me before I give him the signal, or sloppy lick me shit that bothers me soo... I need a man that makes me wet the minute his lips touch mine.. and when we are done, cuddles for 2.5 minutes, before he peels himself away and stores nicely under the bed for safe keeping.. awww the perfect man... he gives good face and has a nice ass, he hands over the credit cards without a flinch and never lets me know I have over spent, over drawn, or spent frivolously... He sweet and kind, tells me I look hot and his cock is rock hard and ready to go the second I bat an eye... why don't they make a blow up man to suit my needs?? I would seriously pay good money for that shit....</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-2148445323086610222007-03-30T11:04:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:21.800-05:00Bless me Blogger, for I have sinned<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rg07T_Wdb9I/AAAAAAAAALE/C88E5vqfbG8/s1600-h/bondage.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047755971961384914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rg07T_Wdb9I/AAAAAAAAALE/C88E5vqfbG8/s320/bondage.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rg06svWdb8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/1Gk3Hi7DuBY/s1600-h/bondage.JPG"></a>I have kept my legs shut for way tooo long... It has been__ minutes, __ hours, __ days, __ months, and/or ___ years since I have been laid.... (didn't think I was gonna spill it did ya??) I used to be a carefree girl, not really giving a shit who I let taste, touch, or fuck the goodies... sex was a power trip and I got off on knowing I landed exactly who I set out to lay.. I miss the carefree days, but years of fuck overs, fuck ups and non committal men have made me want something more... something somewhat meaningful, somewhat of a challenge and a fuck like no other... a loving fuck, with sentiment and meaning... a skillful fuck, where I won't lay there unamused and unfulfilled. A hot fuck, where sweat and sex fill the room, a sticky nasty mess, that you peel yourself away from after... panting, trying desperately to catch your breath.. a fuck like no other.... A fuck that sticks in your head, the fuck that fills your fantasies, and gets ya through those not soo hot fucks.. I want the fuck that makes you wet just thinking about it, the kinda fuck, where your heart kinda stops as you slip your fingers inside his waist band, gently touching his stomach, feeling him grow hard in response to your touch and wanting nothing more than to kneel down and worship the masterpiece that is his cock.... I want that kind of a fuck... call me picky, but fuck it, it should be all that....</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-54729472386016807072007-03-27T11:53:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:21.892-05:00Audi 5000 G....<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rgl2UaMv46I/AAAAAAAAAKw/DxYUmOtOcJo/s1600-h/spynew.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046694950447604642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rgl2UaMv46I/AAAAAAAAAKw/DxYUmOtOcJo/s320/spynew.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The resident queen of the gym walks behind me, taps me on the shoulder and asks;<br /></div><div><em>"honey were you a dancer, you walk you like you have some sort of running bass line going on in your head?"</em></div><div>naaah, I mean not really unless dancing around my house counts, people always say I walk to slow..</div><div><em>"Giirrrrllll, you do (chuckling...) but only cuz you got those hips swaying sooo, you got the strut going on.... I</em><em> watched you run on the treadmill the other day, you move rhythmically, it is very pretty to watch.."</em></div><div>ohh thanks... </div><div></div><br /><div>Ok when a queen compliments ya, you know it is real.....Good start to the day..... Next, I take a run this morning, I am caught up in the music, my legs pound the pavement with the beat of the song. I zig zag past walkers, other runners... feeling free and full of energy. I see someone running next to me trying to get my attention, it was a boy I passed a ways back..<br /></div><div><em>"Hey, umm where did you get those tats?" (signalling the the tattoos on the back of my shoulders)<br /></em>ohhh back in Los Angeles...<br /><em>"I watched you run by and I gotta say you got my attention"</em> (as he kinda does the look around, peering at my ass.... tight running pants, no panties, you do the math, I work hard on this ass, it better look nice and command some attention....)<br /><em>"You married?"<br /></em>nope.. (awww crap...)<br /><em>"You got kids?"<br /></em>four<br /><em>"Ohh man, that is a lot...."<br /></em>me shrugging, "well"<br /><em>"You date younger guys?"<br /></em>No, not really (I lied, I like em young, I date younger men, almost exclusively) "how old are you?"<br />"<em>twenty"<br /></em>ha, you are just a baby... I better get back to my run... nice meeting you... I skip, and step off, knowing he is watching... </div><div></div><br /><div>Ok, creepy that I was chased down, but compliments, hell yeah pour em on me.... </div><br /><div>You see... I released some demons, and I got a bit of confidence back.. I have been walking around shoulder slumped and head down. I let this blog go (at least the hardship of keeping it all up), I let the boy go, and in return I got a bit of me back... I know I said I was done, and I am... I just wanted and thought better to leave it on a better note... </div><div></div><div>Now, (bowing) see ya'll later monks! see ya here, there, everywhere, and a bit in between</div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-56571029236448829212007-03-24T08:01:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:22.083-05:00email excerpts (did I spell it right???)<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RgUkuJ74xsI/AAAAAAAAAKg/CMq8TQQlkBQ/s1600-h/BWW_Anna_LauraLevine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045479332898195138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RgUkuJ74xsI/AAAAAAAAAKg/CMq8TQQlkBQ/s200/BWW_Anna_LauraLevine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>you do what you gotta do for the Elfman ya know.... best concert ever went to, pogo'd my way through the crowds and right off a 13 foot drop, spraining my ankle to all hell. Got back to the cheermaster asking me to turn in my spankypants.. as they were able to handle the hair, but ditching homecoming and coming back with a wrapped ankle was beyond their understanding.. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-259706983442653252007-03-23T18:30:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:22.325-05:00Happy days, I bought batteries....<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RgRowZ74xrI/AAAAAAAAAKY/X2uP421A4Nc/s1600-h/Louis_Royuo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045272663366878898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RgRowZ74xrI/AAAAAAAAAKY/X2uP421A4Nc/s320/Louis_Royuo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>and I ummmmm.......<br /></div><div>put em in the shower CD player and cranked out some ELO (the one band that can always put me in the best mood).... therapy never felt sooo good.... the shower massager on pulse, the back arched, hair flying around in full rock and roll head swing... taking those tacky hairgasm commercials to a new level... I feel better... kinda... still missing a lil something, something... but ya know in fair assessment the end result is the same.. </div><div> </div><div>I love dancing... (what did you think I was talking about something else??? dirty bastards!) Certain songs just inspire a shimmy and a shake, I should have been a video vixen, God knows I have practiced enough, the sexy stares, the pole dancing, the slo mo hair flips... ohhh well, maybe another day.... </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-77682547291993302402007-03-23T11:17:00.000-05:002007-03-23T11:49:26.238-05:00I told you soo.....I hate those words... I really do... nothing is worse than all your friends laying into you for the lame shit that you do.. I often get told in advance exactly what will happen, but I refuse to believe it, for the greater need to have a sort of story book life... but ya know.... live and learn, right??? according to my friends, I don't.... mmmmmm??? this is all making me think....<br /><br />I got an email from a boy I have known forever... hardcore boy, we hooked up a few time, but it was just never really "us" ya know.... he was and ummm still is a bit toooo honest for me:<br /><br /><em>Ohhh fuck, I told you so, I knew if you went it would be a mess. Seriously Laura, when are you gonna learn? You are the only girl I know from back in the day, that went through the amount of shit that you did, and just never got bitter or scorned. A good thing yes, but take some of the shit and learn from it ok?? You walk into every relationship and opportunity for relationship doe eyed and naive. You have been there and done it all, but I swear you still are dumb as fuck. You are one of those girls, those really nice girls, that guys think they want but don't because you make it too easy, hence you get fucked over, there is no challenge to it. You smile too much if you ask me, I can even imagine it now. Ohh Christ, I am not gonna even say it, I know exactly how you acted, especially if you were drinking, fuck.... dumb girl, dumb girl... You are too sweet, and seemingly innocent. You have never had the upper hand with any man, you need to learn how to make that happen. I love you to death, but I want to slap the shit out of you. No cheeky responses, I didn't mean slapping in a good way.. </em><br /><br />actually I hated that email, it made me cry... but some elements of it are true... he is right... I am not naive, but I get caught up in the moment, and I swear every new boy feels like the first and the only.. I do walk into things wide eyed, hoping for the best, and leave teary eyed because it never seems to happen the way I imagined in my head. I do have a cheeky response for everything, easier than really assessing the damage and making plans towards a fixture.. But I am glad, I never became one of those bitter bitches, I am glad I walk around with a cheesy smile.. better than some nasty scowl.. I am ok with that.. I am a flirty drunk, I know, it prob comes across badly and makes me look desperate, but I am, seriously I am getting to that point... I am glad I have friends who are asses enough to spout off the judgements with such clear intention to upset me? NOT... In it all, through it all, I am who I am... I handle things the way I do, it may not always be right or wrong or helpful but fuck.... it is hard to change.. I don't even think I want to change.. somewhere, someone will just totally get me, and love me regardless, well here is hoping that at least... I will always want the same things in life, in love, in people.... if I get em one day, fabulous... if I don't I will have known I tried... I still be disappointed as fuck but whatcha gonna do....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-20781307558362917602007-03-23T06:00:00.000-05:002007-03-25T13:35:47.271-05:00Rockin the Soccer Field...Playing soccer mom today, I watched as my kids frolicked about. My big boy taking out his team and the opposing team as he steam rolled down the field. Chrissy plays to win, I love that about him... Marisa skips around the edges of the field, making friends and saying her big hello's... She is the most friendly person I have ever met, she is ever soo popular. I sit with the twins, doing the normal mom shit, stuffing there faces with snacks and begging them not to exit the stroller. I sit there on the bench, cell phone glued to my ear, talking rapidly to my best friend of nearly 20 years, asking her why I can't seem to befriend the other moms... (seriously they don't talk to me, at all..)<br /><br /><em>Why don't I have any friends here Tre I mean seriously, I do the same shit, I am out here every Saturday, kids in tow, fold out chairs, snacks, ya know just like the rest of these fuckers...</em><br /><br />Laura, cuz you aren't like them...<br /><em></em><br /><em>Sure I am... I mean I could be, wait..... what the fuck is that supposed to mean??</em><br /><em></em><br />(laughing) No, you aren't, you never were and you never will be... Laura, look around, what are the other women wearing?<br /><em></em><br /><em>Ummm, t shirts and jeans, sneakers... why?</em><br /><em></em><br />and you?<br /><em></em><br /><em>umm, super cute tiny pink sundress I got in London, my Nicole Ritchie over sized sunglasses and some sandals why???</em><br /><em></em><br />(laughing again.....) Laura, you don't dress like them, you don't act like them, you do the stuff, cuz your kids love it, but you are not a soccer mom.... do you even own a t shirt??? seriously, I have known you since we kids, you never fit in with the crowd, you stand out a bit, you have your own lil look, your own lil way of being... I always liked that about you, it isn't a bad thing.. could you see yourself friends with those people??<br /><em></em><br /><em>nahh, I suppose not.. hey you have friends here...</em><br /><em></em><br />yeah, well I am one of them....<br /><br />She totally is to, and if we met today, we most likely wouldn't be friends, but I have known her since the 5th grade, she is totally stuck with me...<br /><br />Spending my whole life in little groups- I was always the odd girl out... I was a total stoner in HS, hanging with all the Metal Heads, but I wore ruffled shirts, and dresses, I never even owned a concert t shirt till I was 25. Before that I was a cheerleader and swung with the popular kids, I wore punk clothes, handmade jewelry I made from discarded Star war figures and shaved my head into a mohawk. Junior High I was Student Council president, but I wore trash bags that I made into rockin dresses (look up Toto Coelo, they were cool, I was inspired) and strange wigs, hot pants and tube tops I found in my baby sitter's hooker stash... I mean I was in a group that had a clearly defined signature look, a defined role in the school and an assigned social stereotype. Yet, I challenged those stereotypes and made up my own little rules. I was the only stoner to make the honor role, and the only cheerleader to get the boot for skipping games for concerts. Ohh well, I guess I still live within that realm. I am part of the group but making my own little rules as I go along... my rules rock, way harder... I still think I am just a tad bit cooler than the crowd...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-22687168074346054272007-03-22T17:28:00.000-05:002007-03-23T11:12:58.305-05:00Email excerpts - trust me, I never make any sense...............Yeah, that whole Black men have big cocks is such a farce.. I dated two black men, the first had the biggest horse cock I had ever seen, literally ripped me up.... the next played pro football, huge linebacker, could toss me around like no body's business but had the smallest pecker I ever saw and it had a nasty hook to the left, I broke up with him because of that... he said I was shallow and mean, but I gotta feel the <span style="font-size:+0;">fuckin</span> thing ya know..........Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-75283830165389573572007-03-22T08:15:00.000-05:002007-03-22T08:48:57.272-05:00Back in the swing of it allBack to cleaning up Cheerios out of the carpet, Back to begging the twins not to destroy the couch, or rip the covers from my bed, or dumping the toys from the toy box, Back to body pump, which I missed, it takes work to keep these arms all buff, Back to reality, fuck it kinda sucks, Back to piles of laundry, the grocery shopping, the cooking and the cleaning, Back to soccer practice and tennis matches, Back to smiling faces that missed me sooo, Back to cuddly little warm bodies that sneak in my bed in the middle of the night, Back to trying to type while jugging the babe sitting on my lap, Back to sweet kisses and lots and lots of hugs, Back to the boring monotony, and the lack of interesting things to go do, Back to the routine, Back to Atlanta, which frankly I could never see again and be perfectly happy, Back to the diet, I sooo close fitting in those tiny ass pretwins jeans I can almost breathe after I button them, Back to warm weather, and watching everything bloom and blossom, Back to the resurgence of fucking mosquitoes, Back to weird dreams and hallucinations, Back to red clay caking my shoes, Back to glasses and ponytails, Back to no time for makeup or cute shoes, Back to emails, phone calls and voicemail, Back to dreaming of the next vacation, Back to loneliness and never getting laid (what the fuck is that about anyways...) Back to doggy treats and diaper pails, Back to vacuuming and the my fave shows....<br /><br />Back to it all, the good and the bad....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-78985659413618294402007-03-21T12:44:00.000-05:002007-03-21T13:29:55.929-05:00Shopping Lists and The Medicine Dropper....I am an emotional girl, I didn't used to be... my motto was was suppress it, forgive it, forget it and go on about my day... Till one day, it all bubbled to the surface, a giant wave of acid that took over my body and my soul... and I realized I had to find some sort of a balance... I am not sure when it all changed or if it really completely did, or if I would just like to think it did... maybe when I had kids, maybe I finally began to feel, to cry, to feel the need to express emotion... But I don't think heart break suits me much... I found a grey hair today, the first one in years, tiny, small, sprouting from the hairline, catching the light from the mirror. I plucked it immediately and prayed to the vanity gods that no more would come.. I ran today, till I about passed out and puked, I can't seem to get myself back in the swing of it all... I mean the grey hair thing really fucked me up... I have to be cute, it's my motto, fuck it's printed on my business cards, I don't have much more going for me ya know.... I can't age, not now... I am still single... I am lucky, I don't look too much different than when I was twenty. I only weigh about 10 pounds more (and after 4 kids that is quite the accomplishment, thank you very much!), but my face is thinner, possibly my eyes seem a bit deeper set, a few lines here and there, but overall I think I am aging ok.... I smile a lot, and pout when I am sad... I think the smiling thing helps... I try to not to scowl or frown a lot... that causes ugly lines... but yeah, I can't let this heartbreak thing fuck me up.. But in thinking maybe beyond the fact that I think it is quite possible that I loved this one more than all the rest, and that I think I have cried more than I really want to admit, is because I never really cried for all the others... When I walked out on my rocker boy of 3 years, I didn't cry. I loved him, I would have done anything for him, but I had realized that he didn't love me anymore... When all the signs and symptoms were no longer hidden, I knew he no longer felt the need to protect me, and in that I couldn't love him anymore.. When my husband left me, I didn't cry, well not for him, there were tears but they were for my kids and for what they would face. But for me, I was relieved. He broke me down, and caused the plagues that haunt me still.. I was a cocky girl before he came about, I knew men wanted me, and how to make them want me even if they didn't... I lost that aire, he told me over and over again, I wasn't pretty enough, that I wasn't thin enough or what his friends or family thought he should be with. He hid me away, and I closed myself off into a tight cocoon of unhappiness. I lost myself in motherhood and forgot the fun, carefree girl I used to be.. honestly, I can't even pretend to recapture those days, or those ways, I haven't a clue... My next boyfriend helped me feel good again, I felt pretty and an element of my former self, he made me realize it was ok to merge the two, the me of today and the me of yesterday. we faded and I felt loss, but I didn't cry, there was no formal goodbye, we just quit talking one day, years later we resurfaced in the form of a friendship a tumultuous one but never the less a real friendship, that is nice to have.... this one, mmmmm this one, I don't know, the same issues come up, but I can tell him, I felt safe in telling him... he is the first person I truly face to face have opened up to. I trust him, still, even through it all... cuz yeah, I don't really feel the cancellation, just the network trying out a new drama, but we all go back to the syndicated sitcoms in the end... those quirky shows just never really get out of your system, hard to forget ya know.... so maybe I cried to release it all, and maybe I am done crying, suppression is a bitch, it always comes up when you least except it...<br /><br />on more positive note, I realized a few things this last trip, if nothing else trips give you perspective-<br /><br />I <strong>should </strong>feel like that with someone, I should have this overwhelming, all encompassing, almost neurotic love for someone, it should feel that powerful, I would never be truly happy with anything less<br /><br />I should be absolutely in love with where I am at, I should walk out everyday and say, wow, I live here, amazing, I love it here.... comes a point the fact that we merely exist is just not nearly enough... time for a change...<br /><br />I should be happier... I am not happy. I love being a mom, I love being with my kids, but I need a greater level of personal satisfaction to be a better person, not only for me but for them as well..<br /><br />I should be more motivated to make things happen for myself, setting on my ass, writing a half ass blog is not gonna get me anywhere... it barely accomplishes even the healing effect that I was hoping for anymore... so gonna really pursue writing... I love it, and I feel alive getting my lil obscure thoughts out and into the atmosphere... the blog will always be here, but gonna really allocate some time to submitting, writing, and working my ass off to get something going for myself...<br /><br />I should drink more, I think very becoming.... horny, emotional and sappy- I think very cute... (ohh no not so, well I didn't think so either....)<br /><br />regardless, there it all is....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-10092726130642713542007-03-19T22:27:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:22.594-05:00The London Trip....and fall and get back up again....<div><br /><br /><div>funny, every time I go away, I say to myself I could live here... I come back looking around me, and wondering why it is that I stay in a place I hate soo much. Maybe it was the reasoning in which I stumbled into this big dump of a city, maybe it is the reasons I feel stuck to stay.... but Atlanta always leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a endless pit in my stomach... a trip away reminds me how much I settle and get caught up in the routine, and how if I truly want to live, I have to and need to shake things up....<br /><br />London was beautiful.... I had a nice time...<br /><br />I am still struggling with the boy issue, I can't seem to snap myself out of it. Watching him talk, I traced the outline of his lips with my eyes. Thin, light pink lips that beckoned me to kiss them, but it didn't happen. I imprint images, smells, memories, I can not seem to shake them. I can still smell his skin, hear his laugh, see his understanding eyes... I really don't know what to do.... I guess nothing... life is a waiting game, we wait for this, we wait for that, everything in terms of seconds, minutes, days, months, I suppose this is no different.<br /><br />Ok, ok the trip- here ya go:<br />Long flight in, passengers with bad breath should indeed take the gum that is offered to them as to not completely fuck up their seat mates trip... that is all I am gonna say about the flight....<br /><br />Thursday- found my way from the airport, to the train to the tube and to the hote<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rf9p7Z74xmI/AAAAAAAAAJw/ojSE9cI5gWU/s1600-h/IMG_4715.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043866576973514338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rf9p7Z74xmI/AAAAAAAAAJw/ojSE9cI5gWU/s200/IMG_4715.JPG" border="0" /></a>l... I felt mighty accomplished. I then found my way to the museum with the wickedest Dinosaur exhibit I have ever seen.... then on my way to Harrods to grovel in designer heaven. I touched the racks of Versace and Valentino, I fondled the price tags, gagging slightly on the steep prices, I paid homage to the greats... Jimmy Choo, Manolo, ya know all the gods.... I bought a 12 dollar sandwich in the food mall, and promptly threw it in the trash, cuz it was nasty... I wandered in to H and M and thought everything looked cheap and tacky after the Harrods adventure... I later met with Guy who used to do a cool lil blog called <a href="http://venting-spleen.blogspot.com/">Venting Spleen</a>, he has been a solid bud now for quite some time... seen pics, but they don't do him justice as he was quite handsome. Off to get the American girl drunk- whooo haaaa!!! We met up an hour later with Christopher who had a lil blog called <a href="http://legitfront.blogspot.com/">Legitimate Front </a>once upon a moon, but he sucks ass at keeping it updated... Now Chrissy is a cutie pie, and beyond fuckable (don't tell him I said that, I often make him uncomfortable with my forward ways- seriously he thinks I stalk him) but c'mon now, what a face, wanted to squeeze it... off to get more beer, hooray.. they made fun of me, and looked a bit annoyed at times, possibly a Brit thing...ummmm or maybe I am just annoying... who knows... had a nice time, lovely, lovely boys, think we will all be friends for a very long time....<br /><br />Friday- got up super early a bit smelling of beer, and feeling the tack of dry mouth syndrome, drank some water and hopped the tube for a 6 am run through Hyde Park. I wished the ducks and the majestic swans a hello, and hoofed through the paths, my breath heavy in the cold thick air. Met up with the Boy, and well you read the last one, he was cute.... he was charming... blah, blah, blah, ohhh but one thing, he does have a fairly feminine voice, so I guess that is something bad right.... naaah still cute.... we went up to Camden Market and laughed through shops of kitchy sudo punk, now mall trendy clothing. Bought some fabulous sunglasses, that I haven't taken off since... not the purple ones, I ditched those, the big white ones... love em!!! sat in a pub and drank, laughed and raced to name the 80's metal playing in the pub... got to talk to <a href="http://victorianrobotsinlove.blogspot.com/">String (of Victorian Robots)</a>on the phone, have you seen his pic? he is cute tooo! I was pretty drunk, I think I rambled something about kittens can indeed kill you... not sure... ohh well... After scoping out some Joey hats (remember the Joey of Friends goes to London hat, yeah totally wanted to buy one, but noooooooo someone wouldn't let me, who says no one would get that pop culture reference- you seriously are underestimating the power of Friends... don't make me got there with the Ross and Rachel story again....) Oh yeah off on a ramble but I also set out on buying more snow globes than anyone should own. Then back to move hotels, and drink some more and my first fish and chips, they were alright, but everything tastes good when you are hammered.... I love England, I get to drink!!! Let the tears roll when I had to say goodbye, absolutely floored me how much that killed me. Back to my hotel room, phone ringing Guy making sure I wasn't absolutely gutted... and I was, so in the shower, and down to his neighborhood for more drinking and complaining.... I adore Guy, he was the bestest friend to have.... a bit too drunk to be back on the tube, missed my stop cuz I was flirting with a draq queen and had to catch a bus back... ohhh me..... what a day......<br /><br />Saturday- up early, went running again at Hyde Park, took a few different turns and saw all the lovely gardens in Kennsington. Wished the swans and ducks a good morning... Was s<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rf9qZJ74xnI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dGblW8c_988/s1600-h/IMG_4737.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043867088074622578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="207" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rf9qZJ74xnI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dGblW8c_988/s200/IMG_4737.JPG" width="162" border="0" /></a>upposed to meet up with the <a href="http://ultratoast.blogspot.com/">Toast dude</a>, but I swear I couldn't find him.... I looked, and looked and looked, but Paddington Station is huge and I hadn't a clue where we where to meet exactly. With no way to get a hold of him after about an hour and change, I gave up.... sorry dude..... caught a bus to Portobello Market- ok, I kinda found heaven.... junk, food, and old clothes- come on now.... I had fun.. spent money.... lots and lots of money.... came back dropped off the goods, and ventured on to see the historical sights, ya know, Big Ben, that gaudy Ferris wheel, and watched lots and lots of cheesetastic drunk young ins running around the square in Saint Patrick's Day hats... shoulda bought me one of those... walked around and watched the sunset off the bridge... pretty.... walked way to far, as it got more and more dark.... back to the hotel, Guy and Chrissy out of town for mothers, day so off to bed for me....<br /><br />Sunday- got up and caught the tube to Regents Park for a early morning run. It was cold, prob to cold for a run, my nose ran non stop.... but Regents park backs up to the zoo, there is a small path that wraps around the back, so I got to say good morning to some Monkeys and sheep and other smelly creatures as I trippity troppity over the path... Went to Piccadilly Circus and checked out the Saint Paddy's Day parade. ok, I hate parades, this was no different... if they weren't gonna hand out free pints, I could give a rats ass. I ducked into Lilly White's (think that is the name) when the rain hit and found a mecca of sports gear.... bought soccer and rugby jerseys for all... Now felt a small connection to Chelsea as, had my ass grabbed by more than a few drunkards after I got off the wrong stop landing me in the middle of a crowd of big boys dressed in blue after a game... seriously I was the only girl on the train and wearing a small mini skirt... same day an drunk Irishman with no teeth tried to grab me and kiss me, to bad from him I am strong and have a wicked shove... knocked his ass over, much to the amusement of his friends.... but I was saying, I bought the kids lots of soccer gear, jerseys scarves, junk..... hung out for a while but started to feel chilled and feverish, back to the hotel for a nap... and some American Idol on the telly..... honestly I was exhausted and feeling a bit depressed so stayed in....<br /><br />Monday- off to run at Hyde park one last time.... I really loved that, the air is so fresh and brisk in the mornings, the early runners, the older gents walking there dogs, the equestrian riders trotting past... nothing better..... got packed up and off to catch the tube to the train to the airport, to wait in long lines, security checkpoints and beckoning gift shops saying Lo, don'tcha wanna cash in those last pounds on some lovely chocolate and post cards and of course I do... I am a retail whore... you put a for sale sign on it, I am sooo there.... long flight home, watched Bobby (good movie) and some other movie with Jude Law (yummmmmmy) about some kid thief in Knights Bridge.... ok movie.. met a hot Norwegian who was 6 foot 9 and hot, but he was off to Oklahoma... why????<br /><br />Home, cried when I saw my monkeys, missed them more than anything... they tore apart my suitcase looking for their gifts, we cuddled and snuggled and I have no plans of leaving them anytime soon..... if things had been different with the boy, I would have felt justified in going, but honestly I just couldn't justify being gone that long, just to twit about by myself.... I loved, loved London and I could totally see myself living there... now....mmmm onto planning.... I realized first and foremost, I am not happy with my life, and gonna have to work really hard to make some changes... cuz ummmm if ya like white boys with blue eyes, pin striped suits and checked shirts , and I do!! then London is where it is at... hot boys everywhere...... so ya know........</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-36702904043444232472007-03-18T07:00:00.000-05:002007-03-18T07:12:35.739-05:00Against the advice of all....I met him anyways.... I hoped desperately that he was fat or ugly, but he wasn't, he was the cutest boy I have ever seen.... I hope he was an asshole, but he wasn't, he was charming and more fun than anyone I have ever met... He had sky blue eyes, that I could spend a lifetime looking into and never get bored... am I afraid to sound vulnerable or foolish? naaahhhhh, I could honestly care less... I really hoped I wouldn't like him, but you can't be in love with someone for the past 8 months and just let those feeling go.... well not me at least, I fall into lust and like all the time, but this one had me at go... I can't play evil girl games and hate him, or act like he doesn't exist and strike him from the planet.. I had to meet him.... it was hard, but I had to.... He walked into the room and I loved him 10 times more, and after spending the day, I loved him a thousand times over.... I have cried more than I knew I was capable of, but I don't regret meeting, it was one of the better days of my life... I know what happened wasn't done with malice or a need to hurt me, it happened as a consequence of bad timing, and circumstances beyond one's control. His girl is a lucky bird, and I completely plan to capitalize on any and all pitfalls that relationship falls into.... <br /><br />deep breath....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-35456767099807566352007-03-13T07:23:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:22.725-05:00It's me isn't it???<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RfavHbsFC4I/AAAAAAAAAJo/zGOwD9Lhgc8/s1600-h/bullseye.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041409375114431362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RfavHbsFC4I/AAAAAAAAAJo/zGOwD9Lhgc8/s320/bullseye.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Question:<br /><em>Gee Lo, I was reading through your blog, you make yourself sound kind of ummmm pathetic and sad... why, would you cast yourself in that light??</em><br /><em></em><br />I guess, I suppose I just don't care, I mean I am not online to create any sort of a persona or to tell people about my daily happenings, I write what I want to write based on whatever emotion happens to be floating higher than the others... I mean we are all layers of emotion right? I kinda envision my emotional self as this open sky of floating layers, sorta like lil magic carpets, hovering, all labeled with a particular feeling. May it be anger, hurt, betrayal, nostalgia, happiness, or love, they all hover in the emotional sky, waiting for a surge of importance to push them to the top. I often write things as a release, to just get it out there in the universe, so it is not weighing on my head or my heart... If I sound pathetic at times, ohh well.... When I experience heartbreak, it destroys me.. really... I turn inward and question myself and my value. It brings up all the little insecurities that I am usually able to suppress. It triggers a cycle of self destruction, I know it is wrong, I know I am better than that, I know that more often than not, things that happen are not a measure of my personal value but more so an inadequacy of the other person. But that does not mean that the emotional self does not take over for a couple of dodgy days and play the old mind fuck... I guess we all do it on some level, I just have no issue sharing it with the world. I hope someone reads it and gets something from it, I hope someone out there reads and says, I felt like that too... and maybe they don't feel alone with themselves... I hope that on good days, I am able to make someone laugh, or smile. I hope on trips back to the past, someone out there can kinda relive it with me... I hope on my wishful dreams of love and life, some higher being reads it makes it all come true... but ya know whatever.... I am just me.....</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-63284938584421960112007-03-09T07:39:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:22.907-05:00Mini Me Rocks<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RfFV37sFC3I/AAAAAAAAAJg/bpD7JscuOVw/s1600-h/S4010488.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039903877408033650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RfFV37sFC3I/AAAAAAAAAJg/bpD7JscuOVw/s320/S4010488.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Pulling into the gym yesterday, I offload one babe and then attempting to unbuckle the other, when she screams in total defiance, "Nooooooo!!!! My song, my song!!!" Who is playing, you ask?? Megadeth, Muther Fuggin (seems inappropriate to cuss when there are pics of you kids involved) Megadeth.... Gotta love it!! She screams, lil fists in the air, "I ROCK!" I wait for the song to finish, as she proudly bangs her lil fists in the air... after the song, she gives me to ok, I unbuckle her and we go on about our day... She looks just like me, she gives a badder version of the evil eye that I own the copy write on... and now she rocks, just like Mama.... She kicks ass.... </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-7894880672094554392007-03-08T15:12:00.000-05:002007-03-08T20:39:22.116-05:00you knew I would....There are those rare moments of clarity, when you truly realize that people are indeed total shits.... You invest months and months of time, effort, thoughtful words, support, encouragement, compliments, small talk, long talk, all sorts of talk, and at the end of it all you get what????? ladies and gentlemen you get Nada... there is nothing to be gained from putting your heart out there... not unless you count the meat grinder and enough tears to flood a small town.... You get that sudden and amazing knock you down and out, sort of loss... Loss felt even though you thought you were wearing your "you can't hurt me" armor... a 6 whole days before the nose tips to the sky, I'm sorry to disappoint luv, it was never meant to be, I have fallen head over heals in love with another, with someone of proximital value and hopefully weeks maybe even months, possibly turn into years of proximatal sex and good times as opposed to difficult and impossible to contemplate relations and a weekend fling type thing.... but who could blame him, not I said the owl, but the owl is wise beyond her years and has learned that special flickers of spark only come around once in a blue moon and they should have the notice that they deserve.. but fuck it done is done, said is said.... Once encouraged to be a romantic, I scoff at the notion as I sit well eyed and feeling a bit destroyed.... once said, never let them kick it out of you, wonder if he knew he would be the one to deliver that final kick... Romance, bollocks... Love, nonsense... A reality girl would never have let herself fall for an online diary... a reality girl would never have booked a ticket sight unseen... a reality girl would have been sooo impulsive and dumb.... the reality girl inside of me, knew it, it felt too good, it felt to fairy tale to be true... that usually means it is going to shit at some point... and alas it did..... blah.... so forever single and heartbroken, think I am gonna get that tattoo'd across my ass....<br /><br />shame, I liked him, I really liked him..........Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-86077473517887384982007-03-06T08:49:00.000-05:002007-03-06T09:21:41.063-05:00I am sooo looking forward to summer.....Cold season hit my house loud and proud this winter.... Seemed as soon as we had Lysol'd and disinfected the next wave hit, over and over and over again, the kind of waves that knock you off your feet and threaten to pull you under. The makers of Motrin and Tylenol should be sending me thank you letters for all the cases of their shit I have had to purchase. Atlanta is not a cold place, but winter's here are hard on the system. Cold and raining one day, sunny and 70 degrees the next. Your body can't adjust, it just leaves it wide open for a range of virus's and lovely infections. My lil house has been hit by the stomach bug more times than a trailer park in tornado country. I have scrubbed more puke out of stain loving carpets than I could have ever imagined, I washed more loads of clothes than I can count, and toted my monkeys more times to the doctors than my insurance will allow.... I spent my weekend in the Emergency room, with a little puking buggar that had the most amazing aim. I am sorry for my lack of posts, my head is swirling with sinus infections and migraines from lack of sleep. I can't be creative in this mode, I can muster a few comments and possibly some snappy retorts but full on posts will have to subside till I can sleep more than a few hours and clear my head....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-76919561391416900142007-02-27T19:59:00.000-05:002007-02-27T22:39:13.181-05:00Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes- part 9<strong>Don't Fall in Love with Them....</strong><br /><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/media/dyn/preview/160x120/263716.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 312px; CURSOR: hand" height="185" alt="" src="http://www.dailymotion.com/media/dyn/preview/160x120/263716.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /> I have an ex, fuck, I have lots of ex's.... Some I keep in contact with, some I wish an untimely death upon, and some that just disappeared into the horizon of time and non caring... I have one, that I once upon a time loved a great deal, but he was nothing but drama, drugs, and disease.... He was sexy as hell, and he could get me to do things I never thought I would do. He would look at me with those piercing blue eyes, and I would just melt at his feet. We met on a blind date, matched up through a friend, who thought we would might like each other. I walked into the bar, saw him sitting slumped in his chair, this great cloud of arrogance hovered around him,visible even to the naked eye. I walked up, he didn't bother to greet me, just held his arm out as if to beckon me onto his lap. I sat down, slightly unsure, slightly nervous, for this boy had that sorta of dangerous charm that made my knees weak. He wrapped his arm around my waist and buried his face into my hair, gently kissing my neck, he whispered, "you are perfect." I was soo smitten.. I smiled, playfully biting my bottom lip, I stroked his face with my hand and leaned in for the kiss. It was a kiss that lasted three years, three years I was completely lost in him.. I supported him through a struggling career, I held him in cold sweats coming off your drug of choice. I picked him up when he laid face down in his own vomit and piss. I watched him rise to stardom it was fun even if only for a minute, and stood proudly in the sidelines... I looked the other way when girls would call our house or when he smelled of perfume and pussy. I threw myself into the rock star girlfriend role, I loved him beyond the definition of love. I was young.... I was confused..... I had no sense of me, and no real sense of self esteem. I lived for those calls from the road, I clipped all the articles, sat in his lap during off takes for videos and jumped into his sweat dripping arms after shows. Eventually, I sorta woke from the dream, packed my bags and I left all the lonlieness, hurt and drama behind. I left all of rock and roll behind, actually. I started new, and until this blog, rarely mentioned those days. I didn't want to be some one's groupie anymore, even if I was the main one... I wanted to be more than a just a piece of ass, to someone. The boy in mention keeps in touch here and there, I get the random email, or phone call - sorta just making sure the other is alive type of thing. He never really says anything, he really never reaches out.. but the email I got last night said:<br /><br /><em>I have been reading your blog, it is funny. I especially like the groupie shit.... you were a wild one.... I have been trying to figure the whole time line on those things, anything you want to share Lo?? I can see how they all fell for you, you have these amazing eyes. Big brown eyes, and when you kind of tilt your head down, you do this thing when you look up. I don't know how to explain it but it is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. Plus you have those great lips, big pouty sexy lips. You are good about making someone feel like they are the only one, like no existed before them and no ever could after. Sometimes I miss you, if I hadn't treated you so bad, would we still be together or is it ever in the cards we could be together again? what do you think?</em><br /><br /><div><div><div>Funny, that came at just the right time, made me feel pretty... girls like that kind of shit... but as far as I am concerned, ex's are ex's for a reason. This one, for more like a million reasons... I know he will read this and understand. He will know why I couldn't just answer in a simple email. He understands my need for closure and will respect my need to question it, explain it and leave it in the past, where it belongs... but the email did take me back a few years for a few flashbacks down memory lane... I had a good ride, but it was indeed time to get off.....</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-59444237953534191012007-02-26T10:49:00.000-05:002007-02-26T11:17:06.089-05:00Ooops.....When I was a wee pup my father used to tell me if I touched my eye, my finger would stick into my pupil (which he explained was nothing more than a hole) and my eye would ooze and basically pop out. Regardless if I really believed that shit or not, I was scarred and had weird eye phobia problems my whole life. I mean seriously it took 7 contact lens fittings for me to get past the cold sweats and the whole passin out in the optometrist's bathroom bullshit. I am cool with my contacts now, and I no longer fear eye kabobs. But it did take me some special one on one counseling from my Anatomy professor and a little help from Dr. Picardo to get over it all. But I wonder.... about the brand of crap I unload on my monkeys. My youngest baby girl, is as stubborn as me, she only wants to do what she wants to do, when she wants to do it. I get the whole runabout and scream Nooooo game quite often, which I really don't enjoy. When I try to recapture her wanton self, she runs even faster, and hides. She is deathly afraid of monsters so I threaten, "Roo get your bootie back here or monsters are gonna eatcha!" running back, baby hair flying behind her, she leaps into my lap, hugging me tightly willing to consend to whatever crap it was I wanted her to do to begin with. When she won't go to bed, I threaten; "Roo get in the bed luv, or I am gonna let the monsters get you" she hops in the bed, pulls the covers up tight around her face, gives me a fake shiver and says; "ohhh noooo monsters!" <br /><br />I wonder is she smarter than I and she is just playing the game or have I doomed myself and her to a life of weird bogeyman closet dreading poltergeist bullshit.. well if I have, I apologize in advance.......Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-34807977226069412712007-02-25T09:23:00.000-05:002007-02-25T20:39:02.366-05:00Junk, Stuff and some Random What Nots....I love my monkeys, I love em more than anything..... but they are the biggest cock blockers in the whole wide world. While a cute kid clinging to the hip of a man might evoke the pheromone spirits of the world and have women flocking like crazy, it does not work quite the same for us girlies... Case in point- hot construction worker at the Y. I catch him from time to time giving me the once over and making lil flirty small talk when I walk by. But throw in some wee monkeys and the dynamics completely change. Of course as luck would have it, he catches me, in full silly girl mode, running full speed, pushing the twins in their stroller squealing "wheeeeeee!!!!!!!!" He laughs, shaking his head from side to side and goes about his day, without his usual exchange of hot hellos or eye contact fuck me's... Maybe he just realized I am a total dork or maybe the munchkins were the ultimate turn off. Ohh well.... that always happens to me... I can snag em, just can't seem to reel em in.... it is cool, I prefer the company of my monkeys to any meathead any day.... but ohhhh man, his body was fierce and he had the prettiest blue eyes (I think they were blue..those tight jeans are sooo friggin distracting) Bummer.....<br /><br />I booked my hotel in London- Two and a half more weeks, I feel like a kid waiting anxiously for Christmas!!! Hooray, now it really feels like I am going!! I haven't' been this excited since I got the jackrabbit in the mail that time... (hush, no making fun of my lil boyfriend...) No, seriously, I am totally stoked. I am really in need of a kick up my heels and twirl about like a lunatic kind of trip. But I am also wicked scared to be leaving my babies... I know my big kids totally understand and are in fact supportive (great grandma's coming that means mondo cookies) But my babies are different... awww hell, really just my baby girl- she is such a momma's girl... and she is moody and a bit of a mini diva. Is my grandmother gonna be able to handle her tiny divalicious needs?? Is she gonna be able to put up with her annoying food rider, and her wardrobe changes that seem to happen about a thousand times a day?? We shall see.....<br /><br />Seems some of my family member think while on this trip I am gonna be kidnapped and sold into white slavery. Which is a laugh, I am friggin 30 something, not 19, blonde and cute. Brunette and hella cute but I don't think that counts..... Funny shit, while I appreciate their concern, they really need to lay off the Oxygen Channel movie of the week....<br /><br />Somehow or another I have become the poor man's Dr. Phil to all my ex monsters... My ex husband calls me seeking relationship advice constantly... his girl is a controlling nutcase- I love it, Karma... he was a controlling asshole.. Funny I find myself telling my old lovers to find new love, to be willing to work at it, to go forth and have lots and lots of hot sex with new beautiful women. I must be in a happy place, cuz the old me, would have held on for dear life forever, wishing desperately for better times. But naaahhhh, not anymore....<br /><br />That was my week..... and yes, I totally enjoyed my last lazy weekend.... hit the mall, found the cutest Hello Kitty Diaper bag- and totally on clearance 90% off- I got that sucker for 4 bucks.. Found an awesome site for <a href="http://www.endless.com/"><span style="color:#ff9900;">shoes</span></a> and ordered some very awesome boots. Went shopping for cute clothes that don't look like I tried, but at the same time look totally hot. I was beyond thrilled that everything I tried on totally fit and looked smokin- girls, I am telling ya dieting sucks the big one but trying on clothes and rocking them makes it all worthwhile. Took the monkeys out to lunch and enjoyed the nice weather....<br /><br />Ready to welcome Monday.... we start sports this week- got the van packed and AC/DC Back in Black in the CD player.... we're ready.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-74224359173759933602007-02-23T12:54:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:23.072-05:00The end to my leisurely weekends is near....<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rd8wfSKrK1I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/cS_ouib8Kao/s1600-h/503609842108_0_BG.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034796222434192210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/Rd8wfSKrK1I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/cS_ouib8Kao/s200/503609842108_0_BG.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is the last of my lazy, lay around the house weekends. My comfortable, cozy Saturdays will soon end and chaos will ensue.... Right now the weekends consist of nice non complicated days, nothing scheduled, nothing expected, just some quality time with the monkeys, a few high pushes on the swings and a romp in the yard with the pup... Sport seasons will soon swoop in and take every spare moment that I had reclaimed as my own, and the ol mini van goes in full suburban mom swing. My oldest girl plays tennis and volleyball and my boy plays some mean ass soccer. So my evenings will be spent carting the monkeys around, snacks in tow, satellite radio on random search and large bags of random crap tossed in the back. They love it, I love it!!! I love the hustle and bustle, the obnoxious sideline cheering for my babes! I wish my parents had been as accommodating, when I was a kid. I desperately wanted to be involved in something, jeez anything... but schedules and family obligations constricted my time. In the 5th grade, they put in tennis and racket ball courts in my school. I was hooked seriously, every morning I showed up at my best friend's house, rackets in hand begging her to go play. She hated every second of it, and frankly she sucked, but she was an excellent friend and she dealt with me. I would play everyday for an hour before school, I was soo into it... who knows, if things had been different, I could have gone all the way, even been on the cover of Wheaties.... or maybe not... either way, and obviously no resentment in tact (not...) I am totally looking forward to this spring season....<br /><br />ohh yeah, the crazy one in the pic-that one is mine- his body is much more suited for football than soccer and he treats every game as a mission to seek and destroy. Seriously, he runs down the field, just knocking kids down left and right... it is awesome- he makes me soooo proud...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29266999.post-7632262988265718122007-02-18T21:04:00.000-05:002008-12-11T22:12:23.241-05:00My boss is leaving me....<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RdkcYyKrKzI/AAAAAAAAAI4/bYKZavROfew/s1600-h/slave.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033085270672223026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ATybAuzOg0g/RdkcYyKrKzI/AAAAAAAAAI4/bYKZavROfew/s320/slave.JPG" border="0" /></a> Who the hell is gonna grab my ass now????<br /></div><br /><br /><br />I have known Jer for years, he is an ok guy... looks a bit like a hispanic Egor, but ya know.... it's retail, what the fuck do you expect... When I was in management he was our store's support help come yearly inventory. He was always a flirt and always kinda stalked me. But when he became my boss he took it to a new level. He would often follow me around the store, walking a few feet behind me, saying, "I love to watch you walk" Granted I do have a nice walk, took me years to perfect it, so I should... I have some hips and a definite ass on me, I know how to work em if you know what I mean. More than once, he has grabbed my ass, or positioned himself right behind me as if to get the quick rub down. Christmas time he offered to ummmmm pleasure me as his gift... He asks me out weekly but almost always makes my skin crawl. Now, I have to admit, being the greedy whore that I am, I like the attention... I like knowing his cock is hard ready to bust a nut just for me. I like knowing and that I make him crazy when I flirt back, bat him the ol eyelashes or seem to do the full bend for every tiny thing I drop... I know he is watching me when I climb the ladder, that is why I wear the tight pants... I know he is waiting for a peek at my breasts, that is why I wear the low cut tops.. I know, I am totally wrong for encouraging it... but I get soo little boy type fun I kinda play it up when I can... So he tells me as I walk in that he has given his two week notice and there is no reason why we can't hook up (this time I am pretty sure that means fuck in this case...) As he sits in front of his computer I slide my arm around him and sit on his lap, doing the quick grind of an adjustment to get my seating just right. He looks nervous, glancing up at the security camera pointed right at the chair, I tell him to find me before I leave and get my number... He shifts to his left, trying to avoid my thigh rubbing against the ever growing bulge. Of course, I cut out a few minutes early, I don't give him my number... I am sure we will see each other in passing but I really don't want this man... He is nice and all but ummm nooooo.... There is such a thing as flirting and then there is lurching... I always thought Jerry's techniques were a bit creepy....<br /><br /><br /><br />But in lots of ways, and ways that count in a job such as this: Jerry was awesome, he never wrote me up for being late, and he always let me do pretty much what ever I wanted to do.. new bosses mean new headaches, and fuck I may actually have to work while I am there.... I am the mercy of a new bitch boss... that totally sucks....<br /><br /><br /><br />ohh well, best of luck to ya Jer....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14