For the Love of God, The Monkey had to Go!

If you had not figured it out yet....

2007-05-11T20:37:00.000-05:00

This blog has gone out of buisness.....

move along, move along.....

The pollen is making me high....

2007-04-05T20:49:00.000-05:00

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....

I finally found em....

2007-04-02T19:47:00.000-05:00

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....

Random comments - and shit I had saved as drafts...

2007-04-02T15:15:00.000-05:00

funny I constantly feel like I am teetering the ledge of lose control... but gotta hold it together merely cuz 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 soo, 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....

I have decided...

2007-04-01T20:24:00.000-05:00

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....

Bless me Blogger, for I have sinned

2007-03-30T11:04:00.000-05:00

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....

Audi 5000 G....

2007-03-27T11:53:00.000-05:00

The resident queen of the gym walks behind me, taps me on the shoulder and asks;

"honey were you a dancer, you walk you like you have some sort of running bass line going on in your head?"

naaah, I mean not really unless dancing around my house counts, people always say I walk to slow..

"Giirrrrllll, you do (chuckling...) but only cuz you got those hips swaying sooo, you got the strut going on.... I watched you run on the treadmill the other day, you move rhythmically, it is very pretty to watch.."

ohh thanks...

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..

"Hey, umm where did you get those tats?" (signalling the the tattoos on the back of my shoulders)
ohhh back in Los Angeles...
"I watched you run by and I gotta say you got my attention" (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....)
"You married?"
nope.. (awww crap...)
"You got kids?"
four
"Ohh man, that is a lot...."
me shrugging, "well"
"You date younger guys?"
No, not really (I lied, I like em young, I date younger men, almost exclusively) "how old are you?"
"twenty"
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...

Ok, creepy that I was chased down, but compliments, hell yeah pour em on me....

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...

Now, (bowing) see ya'll later monks! see ya here, there, everywhere, and a bit in between

email excerpts (did I spell it right???)

2007-03-24T08:01:00.000-05:00

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..

Happy days, I bought batteries....

2007-03-23T18:30:00.000-05:00

and I ummmmm.......

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..

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....

I told you soo.....

2007-03-23T11:17:00.000-05:00

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....

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:

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..

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....

Rockin the Soccer Field...

2007-03-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

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..)

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...

Laura, cuz you aren't like them...

Sure I am... I mean I could be, wait..... what the fuck is that supposed to mean??

(laughing) No, you aren't, you never were and you never will be... Laura, look around, what are the other women wearing?

Ummm, t shirts and jeans, sneakers... why?

and you?

umm, super cute tiny pink sundress I got in London, my Nicole Ritchie over sized sunglasses and some sandals why???

(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??

nahh, I suppose not.. hey you have friends here...

yeah, well I am one of them....

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...

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...

Email excerpts - trust me, I never make any sense....

2007-03-22T17:28:00.000-05:00

...........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 fuckin thing ya know..........

Back in the swing of it all

2007-03-22T08:15:00.000-05:00

Back 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....

Back to it all, the good and the bad....

Shopping Lists and The Medicine Dropper....

2007-03-21T12:44:00.000-05:00

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...

on more positive note, I realized a few things this last trip, if nothing else trips give you perspective-

I should 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

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...

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..

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...

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....)

regardless, there it all is....

The London Trip....and fall and get back up again....

2007-03-19T22:27:00.000-05:00

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....

London was beautiful.... I had a nice time...

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.

Ok, ok the trip- here ya go:
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....

Thursday- found my way from the airport, to the train to the tube and to the hotel... 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 Venting Spleen, 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 Legitimate Front 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....

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 String (of Victorian Robots)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......

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 supposed to meet up with the Toast dude, 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....

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....

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????

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........

Against the advice of all....

2007-03-18T07:00:00.000-05:00

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....

deep breath....

It's me isn't it???

2007-03-13T07:23:00.000-05:00

Question:
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??

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.....

Mini Me Rocks

2007-03-09T07:39:00.000-05:00

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....

you knew I would....

2007-03-08T15:12:00.000-05:00

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....

shame, I liked him, I really liked him..........

I am sooo looking forward to summer.....

2007-03-06T08:49:00.000-05:00

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....

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes- part 9

2007-02-27T19:59:00.000-05:00

Don't Fall in Love with Them....

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:

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?

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.....

Ooops.....

2007-02-26T10:49:00.000-05:00

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!"

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.......

Junk, Stuff and some Random What Nots....

2007-02-25T09:23:00.000-05:00

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.....

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.....

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....

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....

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 shoes 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....

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.....

The end to my leisurely weekends is near....

2007-02-23T12:54:00.000-05:00

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....

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...

My boss is leaving me....

2007-02-18T21:04:00.000-05:00

Who the hell is gonna grab my ass now????

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....

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....

ohh well, best of luck to ya Jer....

Walking Contradictions

2007-02-17T22:09:00.000-05:00

Funny, when I try to define myself, and I often do. Filling out all those online applications for swinging singles takes a lot of thinking.... I can never seem to really come up with solid concrete terms that describe me... the things that I think I can do or can't do seem to have all sorts of grey fuzzing about. For example:

I am capable of love- I mean I would like to think, yeah I have no issues falling in love, I would like to think that, I can easily say "I love you", but I can't... I often want to, I probably should now and then, but I can't... Part of me can't for fear I won't hear it in return, the other half stops it in mid I... because of fear that if it is returned one day it will be taken away.. and that is even more painful. But yeah totally open to it, but then again, I don't know.... I just hate getting hurt... such a bummer.... but I guess it is more fun to just in jump feet first than it is to sit there and test the water, over and over again... the water may never feel right, and what a loss that would be... I love swimming...

I can apologize- Sure I can say the words, but I know for a fact that most of the time I utter them, there is no truth behind them whatsoever, that they are just words that I say to get the other person to just shut the hell up. Especially when I know I am right, and I am most likely to be right... I guess the true mark of my sincere apology, is when I really try to correct the situation, then you know I really care... otherwise total bullshit.. sorry....

I am patient- Ok, not really, because a true patient person wouldn't have to tell herself over and over and over again to be patient...

I am giving- Yeah sure, with my kids, I would die for them.... but don't ask me to borrow my fave skirt, it ain't gonna happen. And I hate the idea of ordering Chinese and everyone shares... fuck that, if I ordered the kung pao shrimp it is because I wanted it, and I'll be damned if you get any...

I am romantic- fuck, for real, this one is a real tightrope for me. I always coveted myself as a wham bam thank you mam type of girl, fuck me and get the hell outta here... but as I get older, I really love all the cutesy shit.. I think more and more I want that old fashioned courtship and all the little shit that comes along with that.. so if anyone knows, how that shit works... there are gifts involved yes??

I am a good listener- yes, if it is something I want to hear, otherwise, after years of listening to screaming, forever talking kids, I have become the master of the tune out and look like I could give a rat's ass look... I smile real pretty too....

I am a social- yes, I can clearly state that I am a social little twit if I have been drinking... and I can say that if approached, I will most likely talk your ear off about most anything. But I am scared to death to approach new people. Seriously I went through semesters in college, where I didn't talk to a soul. Then I found alcohol and it was smooothe sailing....

I am confident- mmm, on a good day, hell yeah... When I know my ass looks great in my jeans, and my hair actually is working... then yes definitely confident. One a bad day, hell no..... on most days hell no... my hair almost never works..... I live in that eternal struggle, I am a fit girl who always feels fat, a healthy girl who always feels sick, a cute girl who always feels ugly. I can look in the mirror and give myself a fair assessment, but like all girls need reassurance to maintain that smug "I know you want me" look all day. I guess that is why I don't mind the pervs at my work that hit on me, makes me wicked uncomfortable but they validate this internal need to feel wanted... sad..... sadder that I was able to recognize that about myself....

I guess none of this is news to me... I know myself pretty well. I can say that I am pretty open, I have been through it all, and I always figure, if it happened more than a day ago, it is a story.... I am good about detaching the emotion and stripping it down to it's bare parts... just a story... I learn new things everyday, sometimes they surprise me, sometimes they don't. I guess like all people, we are walking contradictions, that it would be difficult to clearly and in concrete terms define ourselves..

if only those forms could be less complicated, I could be getting me some serious action more regularly.... ok, regularly would be pushing it... regularly would imply I actually get some....

fuck it, I will just lie.... that works right.....

all this talk of love...

2007-02-15T21:30:00.000-05:00

I think the very first time I realized what love was, was the first time I was handed my baby girl.. She was sooo beautiful, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.. She melted my heart and all my wounds and scars suddenly seemed to close and disappear. Like a new start, had just enveloped the horizon, and all my yesterdays cease to exist. She has been my best friend through it all, and out of all the people in the world she understands me best. She is strong yet sensitive, sweet but stern and she is everything I wished I had been as a kid. The apple of every teachers eye, and the first one to take all the wounded birds under her wing. I can still remember taking her to go see the Spice Girls (ugh is right) for her first birthday and her shaking her little tambourine.. She drove cross country with me when my ex, kicked us to the curb (the first time) and shared in my excitement as we crossed the Mississippi, shouting RIVER as loud as we could. She amazed me with her ease and grace when we visited Paris and she picked up about 20 french words right off the bat. Her little face lights up with every new day. She like me, wears her heart on her sleeve and her disappointments on her face. She speaks her mind, and stands up for her beliefs. She has this amazing love for her family and fierce loyalty to her siblings. Funny sometimes you don't know how much you love them till you think something is wrong.. Today, her bus was over an hour late, I sat impatiently looking out the window waiting to hear the loud roar of the engine as it climbed the hill. But it didn't happen.... I called her school, and the words from the receptionist made me tear up before she could even finish her sentence. "is your child on bus 11?" yes, I answered trembling, like ohhh shit what happened.... She answered everything is fine, the bus driver had forgotten it was a half day, he just arrived, your child's bus will be there shortly... Ok, cool...... but scary how every moment good and bad can flash before your eyes in the matter of seconds...

hug the ones you love, often......

I hate it when real people find me on Myspace...

2007-02-14T20:51:00.000-05:00

I mean, I guess it is the point of it all, right... Blah, I will stick to imaginary friends and rock stars, my basic attitude is: if I don't know you anymore, it is cuz I don't want to know you! Enter Dawn, I hate Dawn I think I have always hated Dawn.. Even though she was once my friend and even for a spell my roommate, I can indeed look back over the span of it all and I say I have always hated Dawn. Little bitch that she is, found my ass and sent me a cute little email:

Wow, _________ I found you! I always wondered what happened to you.. Remember me, it's Dawn, we worked at Uhaul together, you were such a slut back then!! Then we lived together for a little while. Although, I am sure you would rather forget that, I know I would.. Well, how are you?

Dawn

For the record, I wasn't a slut.. We worked at the corporate offices for Uhaul- we always hired the hottest guys. I was a trainer, and I tended to take my work ummmm home with me... Ok, I slept with one, but I hooked up with a plenty. Now hooking up in my book does not include sex or blow jobs. Hooking up includes kissing, some feel up action and maybe even some light fingering... so technically I wasn't a slut... (so there...) Now granted the one I did fuck, I did so in the stairwell at work and kinda got caught by the security cameras, got reamed by my boss and had to let him play with my titties to avoid getting fired.. but that doesn't make me a slut. That just makes me inpatient.. I couldn't wait for break so I said fuck it, lemme give ya the tour...

Anyways, Dawn was hired the same time as me, and quickly grew into a decent club buddy.. She was semi attractive (a tiny lil thing but her head always struck me as too big for her body) and could handle her alcohol but she was always a bit moody and her voice grated on me. We decided to be roomies and all was cool, for a while.. once in a while she would approach me with strange little questions and accusations...

Dawn: I know you drank my orange juice!
Me: I can't drink citrus, I have problems with ulcers, you know that...
Dawn: Whatever, I measure it everyday, and today it is lower..
Me: that is nuts, it wasn't me...

Dawn: I know you ate a piece of my bread
Me: opening the fridge and pointing out, that I have my very own loaf of bread- dude, seriously I have my own..
Dawn: well I have one piece less today than I did last night, it is ok, you don't have to lie..
Me: that's fucking ridiculous I'm walking away...

Everyday same thing, weird little accusations that made no sense. It eventually turned into little girl wars, with us not speaking and playing the avoidance game. A couple months later she announced she was moving out, and relief was in sight.. but she couldn't stop with all the talking...

Dawn: I know you used my razor..
Me: Fuck, what is wrong with you, we have separate bathrooms, do you really think I went through your room, into your bath and used your razor??
Dawn- well you are sketchy like that...
Me: For fuck's sake, just go... you need help..

She moved out, left a royal mess, and left me with all the rent- I couldn't be happier... It was such trivial bullshit, but to be accused of strange ass shit everyday, eventually got to me. I can't live in paranoia land- it is an unfriendly place.. My next roommate was even worse, a total mustache wearin, blow job passin out whore... but that is another story for another time...

A couple years later I ran into Dawn. I worked at the WIC clinic in central Phoenix. I was walking from the parking lot after lunch when I spotted her exiting the free clinic which was next door. She tried to act like she didn't see me, but being a tad bit shady and feeling a little empowered, I walked right up to her to say hello...

Dawn- ohh you here for the clinic..

Me- no sweetie, I work here, but looks like someone is burnin...

Dawn- ummm, no, well, ummmm long story.. anyways I will give you a holler one of these days...

Me-naaah, that is cool, don't, we really don't have anything to talk about....

and that was the end of that.... Ten years later, I can still imagine her bobble head, saying I know you, ate my peanut butter, bitch knowing damn well I am allergic to peanuts... I deleted the myspace mail... I can not deal with that again... silly little shit....

And so it is done....

2007-02-09T19:46:00.001-05:00

Two years, I have been home, hanging full time with the kids.. Two years, I have devoted pretty much 24 hours of my every day to my babies.. I love em dearly, but Mama has got herself an itch, and like all itches it needs to be scratched. I pushed send and whoooo haaaaa, I got myself a sweet plane ticket for a much needed vacation. I booked my flight and come March, my fast little ass is heading across the pond to flirt with all the cute Brit boys I can manage to squeeze in 4 days. I love being a full time mom, it is the ultimate gig... it really is.... As much as I whine and complain, it beats every other job I have had ten fold. While pregnant with the twins and for many years before hand I worked two jobs, I barely had time to breathe much less time to stop and enjoy the scenery. Now, I get to not only see it all, I get to take it all in and even make a few side trips here and there. These past two years, I have gotten to attend every tennis game, soccer game and volleyball practice and cheer my ass off. I have gotten to watch the monkeys get on the bus every morning and hug em a big hello when they get home. I love it... I have gotten to watch all sorts of cartoons, actually learn to cook, read a book or two and bask in the glow that are my babies. But as any full time mom know, the gig allows for very little "me" time... So I figured two years of complete selflessness deserves a little indulgence. Soooo for a couple days I get to dust off the ol mini skirts and hooker heels, stay out late, drink a bit tooo much, and make out with a few random strangers. There will be no boogers randomly wiped on my sleeves, no kool aid stains on my shirts, and no diaper bag slung over my shoulder. Love it! Although I know I will probably cry the whole way there and call my babies every 10 minutes, I am sooo thrilled I can take a couple days, regroup, revisit "me" and totally relax. So March as it looks, is gonna be a most excellent month....

A day in the life.....

2007-02-07T12:17:00.000-05:00

So if any of you were wondering, 9 appears to be the definitive age in which your children become totally embarrassed by you. Driving the monkees to school today, Jamiroquai came on the radio, and me loving them something fierce, immediately started dancin up a storm. Joined by my back up dancers the twins and the mean dancin machine Christopher.. My daughter looks around in disgust and asks me politely, "Mom, can people in other cars see us?" I do a quick ponytail flip and answer her over my shoulder, "Yeah sweetie, why?" She looks me square in the eye through the rear view mirror, "well don't you think you should stop dancing then?"

I danced even harder... Silly babes... What fun is life if you can't live it up every chance you get...

So, not to sit here and talk about real life or anything, I am gonna pull a Non Vocab and talk about the evil whore that curses me so. Ohhh my God the past week has been a fuckin hell!!! I am weepy one moment, pissed the next.. I am puffy- for someone that weighs herself everyday and writes down every friggin thing she eats- not good to be puffy, not good at all.... Even my arms are puffy- what the fuck- my arms are cut, like Angela Basset gonna take out out Ike cut- but this week my arms look puffy. This is the period that is gonna break me, I swear. I ate (not all at once-but throughout the day, mind you... I am not a cow!) an entire half gallon of frozen yogurt. Now I can rationalize it in my head all day that it was low fat and shit, but that doesn't explain why I ate an entire can of pumpkin last night as well. Who the fuck eats pumpkin out of a can?? Well if the question ever comes up, I guess I am gonna be the one raising my hand. I feel normal today, surprisingly. I hit the gym and ran, I hate running but that is what I do to punish myself when I have been bad.

But while at the gym..... color me intolerant. But I hate it when the mentally challenged bus rolls in. I mean, I know, I know.... this is really horrible of me, but the woman who grunts and groans through taking a dump, in the only restroom really freaks me out. Not normal, constipation grunts, more like, Ohhhhhh, yeaaaaaah, come on out now babies, come on, ooooooooohhhhh yeahhhhh. I wanted to scream.....

Well that is my day, welcome to it....

Playing Paris

2007-02-05T12:33:00.000-05:00

so off to the gym this morning to work off the food and feel sorry for myself fest that was this weekend... Ran my ass off on the treadmill and trotted through the cold to Body Pump. Every time I leaned or bent, I was having problems with classic nipple slip. My right breast was pretty much out there... It was great (sense the sarcasm)... I am always a few minutes late, so I almost always end up in front but that is cool, I like the mirrors. I have a thing, ummmm for mirrors... Plus wicked bonus, no over sized ass smashed in my face. Although all the resolution girls have regained their posts on their worn couches watching The View= taking comfort in the fact that Rosie will always be fatter and more ugly than all of them combined.. So anyways, there was one man in the whole class, the one day, I am having wardrobe malfunctions and I get the one lurching fucker, right next to me. He, being hormonally challenged, of course figures this out well, right away and make sure no matter which I am turned he is facing me, or watching me.. It was fun... After class he comes up to me and says, "you are really looking great" I respond, "awww thanks sweetie, you are only saying that cuz you have seen my tits." He smiles, "yeah, I guess I have.. nice by the way" I like attitude in a guy, and honestly if he had been a foot taller I would have grabbed his hand, led him to the handicapped restroom and let him cum all over them. But he wasn't, and I didn't... I suppose the whole thing is my fault really, I should take other's advice and stop being soo vain when it comes to bras. I mean a demi in the gym is a no, no. I recognize this, but for some reason I can't manage a sports bra. I can't do it... totally disturbs me... So I guess I will go on playing Paris, good thing I wear panties.... yikes!

Sometimes when it just feels like too much

2007-02-04T13:48:00.000-05:00

hop on a treadmill and run, run, run as fast as you can, till you puke and pass out. But I promise you will indeed feel better... I am not 100% but fuck it, I can't change it all. I wouldn't if I could.. Well yes, somethings I would seriously change. But my little ones, who latch closely when Momma is nuts, they smother me with hugs, kisses, and understanding. Regardless of how I feel or look, they love me, and regardless how much they fuck up the carpet I love them to.. I love my handful of friends and my boy toys that express their caring and concern, and promise me it will all be ok. Thanks... I don't think you know this but your friendship means the absolute world to me.. I think we all just need to rant and rave and throw little tantrums once in a while. I would love to crawl into a ball and just sleep it off, but the little munchkins want popcorn and a movie... I would love to just hop in the car and drive away but it takes a lot of effort to put 3 kids in car seats and another situated with her favorite gear. I would love to eat myself into oblivion but I get sick and throw up. I would love to drink myself into a stupor, but I always wake up in strange parking lots and it is just too cold for that shit. I often do ask, is this it? Is this all I was intended to do in this life? But I can't see it. It can't be just this... I am way to fabulous for this to be it... so looking forward something, anything, it can only get better... right??

I hate too much today....

2007-02-03T21:08:00.000-05:00

I just sat in the bath and cried for the last 30 minutes, maybe it is hormonal, maybe I am totally loosing it, or maybe I am just fuckin miserable. There are times where the constant noise just gets to me. There are times when it all just breaks me down.... I love being a mom, I found myself when I became a mother, but I also lost myself. I have no idea who I am anymore. I write about the old days, the ever eternal search for love, the ups and downs, whatever it needs to be to vent or to distract myself. But the plain truth is sometimes I am miserable and scared and just altogether bored.... I tell myself not to compromise to find what it is that I am looking for, but maybe what I am looking for is all wrong for me. Maybe that all encompassing amazing love I want to exist, doesn't really... Maybe the connections I think I have with people are them just being nice... Maybe the friends I have are not really my friends... Maybe I hate the people I should love. Maybe they have all hurt me too much I don't feel as if I can ever heal. Maybe that passive aggressive shit that people pull makes me want to beat the shit out of them. Maybe I hate listening to my ex complain about his girlfriend, and how hard he works on that relationship, knowing he treated me like shit. Maybe I am waiting for someone to just make some sort of a gesture my way, so that I know he fuckin cares, because honestly I can't tell.. Maybe I hate waking up and taking the dog out at 3 am. I hate granola bars ground into my carpet. I hate not having my own place. I hate living here. I hate working this hard to be somewhat cute, and then knowing I will be single for fuckin ever anyways. I hate that my tax return wasn't what I was expecting. I hate now that I have to struggle to figure out how to make something happen for myself that is completely self indulgent but I need it soo bad, cuz I am totally loosing myself more and more every fuckin day.... I hate crying..... I just hate it....

and if one person, tells me I need to make time for myself I am gonna friggin scream!! if that was remotely a possibility believe me I would be taking it....

Ha!

2007-01-31T16:52:00.000-05:00

Cost of a Baby Einstein CD, $11.99

Looking back in the car and seeing your 2 year olds, fists in the air chanting Stroke Me to the rockin sounds of Billy Squier, PRICELESS...

My kids friggin rock!!!

Has a nice little ring to it, doesn't it.....

2007-01-30T16:20:00.000-05:00

I love it when he says I want you... Those are the hottest words ever, and said correctly I am a silly puppy just lapping it up. I love it when he says it, in the heat of the moment, tight in embrace, his lips brushing gently along my neck. Feeling his breath heavy and warm, he pulls me close and when he says it I get goosebumps and my body just automatically pulls forward as if to answer him... He pulls me onto his lap, I am kneeling over him, my hair hanging in my face, my breasts at eye level, I pull back away slightly as his teeth edge towards my nipples wanting to playfully bite. His hands running up and down the back of my legs, gently squeezing my ass, as he tells me again, "fuck I want you"

Well that is at least how I imagine it.....

I want you- I like those words, more than I like hearing I love you. Mostly because I love you if often a load of crap... Ok, the first time is kinda sweet, especially if it comes out in a soft whisper, with a little nervous look and that little fidgety side step.... ok, that is sweet... but if it comes blurting out while I am sucking your cock- then it is just total bullshit. Or if in the middle of a lame ass fight, and you say, you know I love you woman. Well that is horseshit too... I like little I love you's that close a conversation or just inadvertently thrown out there because you were dying to say it. Well those are cool, but I don't think anyone should just say it, to say it...

I want you- just feels more honest to me. But then again, what the fuck do I know about love? I am still waiting for that all encompasing amazing love... Till then I will consistently confuse sex with love and love with sex, and I will make the same mistakes over and over and over again. Or maybe not, maybe I am finally figuring this whole thing out, and really wanting it all to be about something more.... mmmm, I wonder.....

How I Waste my Time

2007-01-27T15:32:00.000-05:00

By watching lots and lots of reality TV of course!!!

I am a tv junkie, I admit it. I don't tune in for quality shows or documentaries, I don't even watch the soaps or the ever growing list of talk shows. I love my trash tv, there is absolutley nothing better....

This season in Shroom's house:

Dance Life- MTV- as a wee monkey, my big dream was to become a dancer. I watched Fame a thousand times and dreamed one day, I would be Broadway bound. Well my only pro training was American Bandstand, Dance Fever and Soul Train, which only prepared me for pom squad and later cage dancing... I can still manage the splits and have a mean bootie shake, but I never actualized my dream of becoming a video vixen... I am loving this show, it follows several dancers on their quest for success. Pretty people, ok music and some good dance scenes. I am drooling and could easily see myself blowing Kenny, he is sooooo cute... love me some Boston boys...

I Love New York- VH1- picking up where Flavor of Love left off.... castaway, New York gets a bevy of man whores and gets to parade around a mini mansion in her panties... I would so give my left arm for that gig!!! I am soo jealous, I want a bunch of sceezes vying for my attention!!! ohhh wait, I already have that... ok, some real, some imaginary... but what I wouldn't give to line a bunch of well hung sluts up in a row so I can chose proper....

Sweet 16- MTV-spoiled, rich ass little bastards get killer parties! Watch their lil drama fests as they plan the perfect party. I hate these cunts, I hate their parents, and I hate MTV for making me resent my teen years. They all get BMW's and Jags for their birthdays, I got a packet of birth control pills and "the talk" when I turned 16.... where's the love in that.....

Maui Beach- MTV- I have only watched it twice, so far, all I can tell is white kids in Maui are lame....

The Hills- MTV-I ran a couple of reviews on this show back when I first started this lil blog- I still get a ton of traffic from Google on those posts. So for all of you returning or new to my land. The Hills Still Sucks!!! Lauren, Lauren, Lauren, why of all the Laguna Beach girls did they give you a series? You are the most Barbie but also the most boring. No sex, no drama, no nada.... I can't do another season, with you.. Either bring back Kristin or die!

Surreal Life Fame Games- VH1- mmmmm, whenever I get the chance to bask in the platinum blonde glow that is CC Deville- I do.... What a cutie! Throw in that long duck dong Ron Jeremy, some Vanilla Ice, some beastly amazons and some dwarfs and I am a happy camper. Now have them compete for prizes and I am glued to the screen... ok not really, it is kinda lame, but it is on Sundays, and I haven't the attention span for Desperate Housewives....

Anyways, turn on your TV and plant your ass down...

1001 Random Insignifigant Things About Me.....

2007-01-26T08:30:00.000-05:00

Number 997

I once went to a swinger's club....

Sometimes you just want to test drive the inner freak that lives inside. You challenge the tightrope, you see if you fall or can walk a straight line. You wonder, what if, could I, should I, would I.... Am I really that daring? Seriously, I am not a shy girl... I'd probably show you my tits if you ask (ok, begged and offered huge sums of money)... But I do have to wonder if I am more talk than actual game. (a little question that my babe Merlin always seems to ask..) I like to watch a little hardcore action but I really don't think I would participate. I love me some pretty porn, but don't want anyone to cum on my face..(it takes forever to get that shit out of your hair). I love women, I think they are beautiful but I could never munch down on some pussy... I love bondage gear but could never stomach a ball gag. I think I have fucked more than my share, probably sucked a few more cocks (and with enthusiasm, I might add) than most. But I could never get into the whole swinger's club scene. I mean, I went once, just once and that was all I needed to know, I am just sooo not a freak, well not a full on freakazoid. I walked in bravely, a little liquid encouragement under my belt. I wore a tiny flowered dress, looking cute but not too cute, available but not too available.. I took the tour, a tall blonde, with huge natural breasts, she lead me through, grasping my hand lightly, flirting with her eyes, her hands placed lightly on my sides as she lead me into room after room. She says, "it is ok to be nervous, sweetie, everyone is their first time..." I wasn't nervous, I was uncomfortable, like wicked uncomfortable, like this is a such a very, very bad idea.. As she showed me the viewing rooms, the hot tub, the dark dingy dungeon. I thought back to every gang bang and anal action scene I had ever watched (yeah there was a few....) and I flashed to horrible thoughts of me lying in bed with ice packs shoved up my ass.. I sat at a table for a few minutes, surveying the scene. It was early and there were a few people dry humping on the dance floor, and some fat, balding 40 year old men beginning to circle and swoon. I was probably the youngest one there, a mere babe at just 24. I am sure I had fresh meat branded on my forehead, and before I let anyone stamp me, I needed to get out.... I ran to my car, and kinda did the old, yuck shake.... I had, had friends who had gone and said it was hot.... They said it was kink and love action all over the place. They said it felt like walking onto a live porn shoot. I think my friends had some serious issues, cuz that was just nasty..... I think I will stick to bedroom theatrics and leave the live shows to the professionals...

I wore the wrong bra yesturday

2007-01-25T07:19:00.000-05:00

I wore the wrong bra, one that didn't lift and separate. One that didn't push the girls up to astronomical proportions. One that did its job but didn't give me the necessary support. It bothered me all friggin day. Funny how we define ourselves.... I am not this shallow, really.... I think about all sorts of stuff, world peace, presidential stuff (ok, not really), that killer shark in south wherever, and what Nicole Richie ate for breakfast. But my breasts are my signature piece, you know... I like cleavage, it suits all my clothes so well... So yesterday, when they didn't command the room, I felt disproportioned and unshapely. I became self conscious of my clothes, thinking this tank top is to big, these pants don't fit right... It seriously ate at me all day. I forced myself to wait for my laundry to dry, I swear I almost slapped a wet bra right on me... But I thought it was funny, how such a silly thing could eat at me all day..... How body image concerns can break a girl down... I kill myself everyday at the gym because it seems to be my body would honestly prefer to be fat. So, I counteract that internal scare and I count the calories and eat only to live. I secretly plan for my first plastic surgery and wonder how much botox costs. I blame Victoria Secret and that damn Tyra Banks. I blame the media and the magazines. I blame myself for the string I tied onto that damn yo yo and for the fact that I really love designer jeans... Ohh well, today, the wonder twins are back in celebration and I feel much better... Fuck that useless bra...

If it makes you feel any better....

2007-01-24T22:06:00.000-05:00

I prefer to sleep on the couch than on my bed... I don't feel alone when I cuddle up the the soft pillows that line the back. The couch confines my space, not allowing for the stretch and the sprawl or my arms reaching into the emptiness. Life, it gets to you after a while. Maybe if I compromised, it would all fall into place. But I can't, I won't... It wouldn't be what I wanted and I would never be happy. I have the hardest time trying to trust. It tears at me, I crack and I cry, I stand and I fall. I struggle with myself and my thoughts of it all. I pride myself for my independence, my strength but sometimes I think I might just be weak. I surround my every movement with children, so I that I forget, I am so busy I barely have time to breathe much less think, much less any remote possibility to believe. The recent months have me wanting more. A sense of me, that I think I lost. I find her dodging between the margins, laughing and beckoning me. She darts in and out of lines on the page. I tense, cuz I can't, I just can't follow her freely. I often equate that kind of freedom to death and panic only takes a short trip to Walmart to set in. I think all this hair pulling is because I finally am ready to believe, ready to trust, wanting to love. I can argue it in my head til I turn blue, but I retain a small sense of calm, because I know, it could possibly be true. If I got lost in his head, it wouldn't be death, that there would always be light. I trust he would always make sure there was a soft familiar light to lead the way. And that to me, is everything. So maybe I will trip and I will fall or maybe I will skip and run to it all, and maybe I will chance, even if only for a day. But some things are meant to be risked and some thoughts are better off shelved. And some things are worth it...
I don't really like sleeping on the couch....

Abreviated for my pleasure

2007-01-24T07:48:00.000-05:00

Internet dating is the modern lie... Altered 15 year old photos, they seemed the perfect match. He wanted to give her the world on a string and take her for a ride. She thought she wanted what he offered. It seemed too good to be true. She dominated the conversations, talking rapidly about her life, her past life, her future. He listened with interest, her voice was sooo pretty. He dreamed of the day they would be together. Month after month passed, she kept him close but not too close. She kept the phone calls, the emails, the packages that littered her mail. But she refused his visits, his offers of togetherness. Everyday he loved her more, everyday, he professed his devotion. But everyday, she pulled a little bit more away. She loved the idea, but not the man. She wanted the escape but not the escape route. His voice began to grate on her, his constant complaining, his whining, she just couldn't listen to it anymore. She had basically checked out when one day, he finally gave way to something she could bite into.. She asked him with her little girl purr, "what is your fantasy baby?" His breath quickened, his body suddenly excited, and he gave way... the two girl fantasy, the bathroom stall, three sets of feet, scrambling in the space. A set of knees, some tongue on clit, titties dripping with cum. He told her in detail his hottest fantasy. She scribbled it down, adding to her files. Thanks sweetie, that is all I needed, and then she was done. Several months of nothing, she left him wondering why. She couldn't.... she just couldn't.... she had gotten what she needed and now she was done..

I don't know if I want to start posting short stories, not sure if this is my style.... I got bored on the treadmill, I wrote some random shit down, I kinda liked it, I posted it....

I can't listen to Metallica while I drive....

2007-01-23T07:49:00.000-05:00

I like to rock, I like the power and the anger, the fists flying high in the air. The smell of sweat, the tinge of blood, the power cords ripping through my bones... But I am not an angry girl, more apt to cry than to yell. More likely to internalize than to rebel. More passive aggressive than outright angry. Well, sans that one time in college, I think that was my last skirmish... Disaster really, drunk bitches should not congregate in masses. Taunting, "I got your man, I got your man!" I ignored her as long as I could, but the inner cholla couldn't tune it out forever, and a quick whip of the ponytail, and a few swift kicks to the face landed me in jail (just for one night, no biggie....) and a $7,000 fine. Well I learned my lesson and have maintained the mellow ever since. That, and I don't drink Cisco anymore (yeah, yeah I know, extreme getto) Driving about town last night, Balls to the Wall by Accept streaming through my satellite radio, I noticed my foot growing heavy, the car accelerating and my mood becoming increasingly triumphant. When It is Soo Easy by Guns and Roses, and then Hair of the Dog by Nazareth followed I had become full on angry.. I laughed to myself as I morphed into Juliette Lewis kicking some ass in Natural Born Killers... awww, everyone needs a little release.... Anyone who knows me, knows that I am all smiles and little in prompt to dances.. I kinda twirl about like a little girl in her first tutu, having fun, life is for living, not moping about. I am wicked patient and try my best to keep my cool. I get little grimaces here and there and sometimes even want to scream if even just for the release.... but I can't listen to Metallica when I drive, I might hurt a bitch.....

I like the sound of the synths....

2007-01-21T19:25:00.000-05:00

It is pouring rain and the cold is starting to drift through the walls. I am wearing my big comfy sweater, frayed and worn but soo comfy I could move in and live here if someone would only let me. Speaking of tents, I noticed they are on sale this weekend, thinking camping could be fun. I could go for some burnt marshmallows on a stick.. Turn to Stone plays too loudly on the stereo competing with the cartoons on the tv. In my head I am twirling and spinning to the music feeling myself ride the waves. In reality, I am trying to separate the sounds, and keep my sanity. It has rained all day, and we have been stuck inside, sans a trip to the gym and the store for more milk and shrimp. The shrimp was on sale, I couldn't resist... Another Saturday passed and somehow I survived without punching out my boss, who asked me out for breakfast, when my response was that I really don't eat breakfast, he eyed my crotch and said, "who said you would be eating??" Ohh my gawd, I mean, seriously who talks like that anyways..... My friends say, I shouldn't wear such tight pants to work, that I should keep my cleavage to a minimum.. But I think a girl should be able to flaunt it, throw it in your face and even wiggle it around without such comments. Plus, I was wearing stretch cords (ok a little tight..) and a black sweater-but hey no cleavage though thank you very much, I had that thing zipped to the top!!! ummm the heat wasn't on, I was cold. C'mon now.... I am not trying to be hot, I don't do hot... well not at work, anyways. I am climbing shelves and ladders, and lifting heavy boxes... It sucks ass, but it is a good solid workout and it pays very well for the couple hours I am there. My boss must think he gets my panties wet... I wonder if he has a clue that he makes me gag, and not in a good way. I wonder sometimes, was it always like this, or did I suddenly become super sensitive. I love the flirting game, fuck I live on the game board. But there is a line that gets crossed where it just gets kinda gross. Ohh well, I am there once a week and only see him every other Saturday. I closed my eyes today drifting in and out for a little nap, in my short lived little dream, Rick from The Young Ones laid next to me, persistently nudging me, trying to tell me something "urgent". I pushed him off of me, over and over again, til he finally tired and shuffled off. I woke to the sounds of company in the kitchen, I laid in silence hoping they would leave, that never works, they just friggin get louder. I would lay back down for a mini snooze but cute boy thoughts are plaguing me today, and I just can't be bothered with that nonsense... I have things to do... I can't figure out where the pile of white socks on the living room floor came from, and I don't really want to do the laundry. The toys dotting the floor hurt when you step on them. The rain still falls heavily outside the window. Puddles dot the sidewalk, lil waterfalls stream through the flower beds. Awww, rain can be romantic.... nawwww, blah! whatever....

My Ex wants to see my Snatch

2007-01-18T18:23:00.000-05:00

Ohhh the Ex-Chronicles.... the drama, the horror, the nonsense that plagues my life.... At times, it just seems too over the top to be true... But ya know, I play the game, a tiny bit here and there, I use the cute girl voice and say please baby please... As long as I get the monthly dole, I could really care less. I listen with false interest to his little stories. I listen to his problems with his woman. I listen to him tell me how good looking he is. I listen to him tell me how much he still wants me, just doesn't want to be with me. I listen to him tell me how he remembers how my skin felt against his, and how good it felt to be deep inside of me. I listen as he begs and pleads for me to send him some lil naughty shots. How he wants to see my legs spread wide, how he wants to see my breasts, my taunt nipples, the curve of my ass... I listen as he tells me that I gave it to him better than any other girl. I listen as he tells me his sob stories, his pains and miseries. I listen as he tells me how hard his day was and how he misses coming home to dinner and the kids. I listen, listen, listen, with the phone about 4 feet away from my ear, sitting comfortably on the passenger seat. When I hear the break in the annoying sound of his voice I pick up the phone and say, yeah, yeah, I hear you, I understand..... If only I didn't need that little chunk of change, I could just hang that phone up.. I wouldn't have to pretend. I wouldn't have to say I cared. I wouldn't have to waste perfectly good minutes on such nonsense... But it is, what it is, the Chronicles of the Ex...

Funny, once we distance ourselves and move on, what they say all becomes a rambling, distant garble of blah, blah, blah.... I wear a smile that he never saw. I have a bounce in my step that used to feel more like a limp. I have a greater patience and understanding than I could ever muster when I was his. I am allowed to be smarter, allowed to be sexier, allowed to be me. I don't have to be some altered version or some PG straight to video knock off. Just me.... Just me....It's all good.... A little watered down telephone game is all that keeps me from a complete move, but bit by bit, I shorten the calls. I lessen the contact, I close the phone. Bit by bit, it all comes to an end... I let my heart wander to new and exciting places, I let it circle the globe and see if it comes home... I let him keep his little strings, knowing they are only delicate little spider webs that I can crawl right through. I let him maintain that false little sense of control that forces his hand to grasp the pen that signs the checks... I let him have that, just that tiny bit, until I realize I no longer need it, till I longer want it at all...

Reasons to Smile....

2007-01-17T07:55:00.000-05:00

I am smiling lately, not just smiling for the sake of being cute, like really really smiling. I love that feeling, like your whole body is radiating this amazing glow. Like you are amped on way too much caffeine and sugar and adrenaline is just oozing out your pores. I like this feeling.... If it only lasts just a short time, then I am grateful for it, if it lasts longer, hell yeah. I have mended fences with friends, made new ones and found a sense of inner peace... I can't have it all, not all at once, but it feels like life is moving in a good direction. So much to celebrate, so much to smile about. Whooo haaaaa, today is good. It is my twin monkeys birthday!!!! The big number 2!!!! They move from baby-hood to kid-dom, and I am lovin it.... They came along as an unexpected gift and changed my life quite dramatically. But they are my little partners in crime and the best lil dancers I have ever seen. They groove with me in the car, and sing along to Livin Thing with me in the shower. They wipe boogers on my sweaters, and grind crumbs into the carpet, and build the best lego towers on the planet. Sooo Happy Birthday my lil ones.... you guys are the sparkle behind my smiles!!!!!

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes- part 8

2007-01-16T09:27:00.000-05:00

Don't Kiss the Cockroach

October16, 95.. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday.. I spent the day shopping with my girlfriends, got my belly button pierced and bought some super cute tiny, tiny mini skirts, you know the kind.. you can't walk a step without showing some ass, but that whole catholic school thing is a bit of a trademark for me. I can't resist the plaid... The Blind Melon show was the icing on the cake, for I live to love this band. They brought something new to the scene, a new voice, a new sound, and a couple of CD's that will be permanently on regular rotation in my house. Hot concert, small club, drank way too much and dancing on the tables. I had a bouncer friend that gave me a birthday wish, and sent my hot to trot ass back stage. Wearing one of my new lil skirts and a tightly corseted black top, tits and ass hanging out everywhere, I suppose I was going for the whole fuck me look. As I walked past Shannon Hoon, who was semi comatose on a folding chair, he reached out and pinched my ass. I turned in fake disgust and gave him a lil slap on his hand. He grabbed my hand, more quickly than I would have expected for someone in his condition. Hard to tell what he was on, but he was fucked to all hell. His beauty still radiated like a gorgeous star, but sadly a star that was near burning out. He told me, " I love to watch you walk" and he pulled me on his lap so that I was straddling him. He grabbed my ass tightly and pulled me close. He whispered in my ear, " do you like cockroaches?" Mmmm, I don't know about any of you, but cockroaches are not a turn on... He proceeded to tell me in ever growing mumble how he got a tattooed necklace of cockroaches to help him over come his fear of them. As he kneaded my ass with his hands, he said that I should kiss the cockroach to help me overcome my fears. Tempting, but mmmm noo. If he wasn't drowning in his own sweat, and if he was even semi alert and functioning maybe.... If he wasn't creeping me out with the cockroach talk, quite possibly.... If he was just an inkling of the Shannon Hoon that I knew I loved, then of course yes. But as beautiful as this man was, I could not bring myself to even kiss him. Sadly less than a week later Shannon died of a drug overdose. He was a troubled soul with a beautiful spirit and a true talent.

He is missed.....

Suck it...

2007-01-15T09:14:00.000-05:00

I ask, I ask and I ask some more... Why the hell do we beat ourselves to a pulp every fucking day that we exist... I had a long talk with a girlfriend yesterday and the question that always seems to surface, is what the fuck is wrong with us... We feel sorry for ourselves when we are single, we stress to all hell when we are in a relationship and we kick our own ass if it ends.. We can't leave the house without checking every angle in the mirror, inspecting our pores as if anyone cares. The hair just so, even if to appear a mess, the clothes fitting just right, to hide our flaws and accentuate our assets, the makeup applied to make us look fab but not overly made up... God it is all exhausting... Plus, ya gotta apply the mental make up as well, can't show all the imperfections, the sadness inside, the insecurities, the questions the doubts, cuz for real who really wants to know all that right?? Gotta hit the gym to stay trim, gotta eat the right foods, gotta find a way to avoid stress, it causes wrinkles and grey hair. Gotta flirt to score, score to win, win to loose... All in all it all comes back around to, "What the hell is wrong with us??" Me, I want it all, no need to lie. I want the boy with the cute smile that makes me laugh, that kisses great and makes me melt... I don't want to infiltrate his life, I am far to busy with my own. I just want hot sex, and a good friend. I want success and money, lots of it. I don't want to compromise myself for the sake of a paycheck anymore. I want happy children and a schedule chalked full of fun. I want to hold on to that silver lining, and ride it high in the sky. I want good friends and good times. I want it all, what the fuck... But I do not want to ask that question anymore, "What the hell is wrong with me?" Cuz, really at the core of it all, the answer is really quite simple, nothing, nothing at all and sweets if you read this nothing, is wrong with you either....

What a silly little girl I am....

2007-01-13T19:25:00.000-05:00

Why can't I live with my head in the clouds? Why can't I have some romantic notion that some grand yet yes illogical and inconceivable thing could happen? I don't put all my stock into fleeting notions but I like to dream. I like thinking that somewhere, somehow people are worth the effort, worth the expense, worth the time. What is wrong with dreaming? What is wrong with fairy tale romances and silly little thoughts of momentary what could it be? What is wrong with flirting with no future assumption or promise of sex? What is wrong with any of it? I don't care how cynical the world is, I don't care what makes sense, I don't care how many holiday days someone has. It doesn't have to make sense... It just doesn't... Too many people settle in and compromise for the here and now, proximity taking way to true compatibility. Not to say I have any of those things or that fuck I ever will but what is wrong with it?? I will always been a silver lining girl, I wonder why the skeptical world laughs at me... Well, whatever... I hope for the best, usually get the worst, but I refuse to loose hope.. I have walked the path that was prescribed and it sucked, boring, no scenery and it spent all its time matching it's socks, I rather be fleeting and silly and take it as it comes, never this is too hard, but always thinking wow, how much fun am I having... funny bunny me, will probably die alone with a stack of Harlequin Romances and a thousand feral cats, but at least I will know I tried.... that I felt, and the I lived....

Do I look that desperate???

2007-01-11T15:02:00.000-05:00

I loathe Saturdays.... I work Saturday mornings to bring in a little extra cash... not much more than gas money, but fuck cash is cash.... I hate waking in the wee hours of the night, walking tiny tip toes through the house, trying my best not the wake the monkeys or the yelping pup, pull up my clothes, slop the hair into a dreaded scrunchy, pick the goo from eyes, and off to a cold 4 am start. I am never on time, I don't mean to be late but I am... I don't mean to be out of uniform, I just hate the colors, and my jeans are soo much cuter... plus I am gone before the first customers hit soo what the fuck... I don't mean to be so antisocial, it is tooo fucking early for tricks... I have been there forever, I know the job.. They leave me alone for the most part. I call out a ton, I take extra long breaks... but they leave me alone, I'm an asset if only for 4 hours, I am fast, organized and efficient... and obviously some sort of toy to fuck. My boss is slime... He constantly makes passes, offers me his "services" and tries to cop a feel. One of my coworkers offered himself to me for a charitable 2 hours as my Christmas present... He reminds me weekly that I never answered his proposition and the lack of an answer would be considered a yes answer. What the fuck, Do I look this desperate or am I that hella sexy??? Honestly, I would like to think neither.... I roll out of bed for that job, so I know I ain't cute.... You all know me, fuck yeah I want to get laid, but on my terms, and as cliche as this sounds, to someone special.. I have had all the random meaningless sex I ever could have wanted to have. I would rather be happy than momentarily satisfied.. Plus fuck, I am doing pretty good taking care of that prob all on my own, thank you very much.... But on sad little moments such as this I ask myself, will I constantly romanticize and search out impossible, illogical relationships? Is the man of my dreams right under my nose or is he thousands of miles away? When I meet him will he show me his true colors, or leave me blind and waiting in the wings without a guide? Will we just gel from the get go, or will it all build, little plateaus of memories that are scrapbook worthy. I would like to believe that my younger more stupid self has evolved into someone with integrity and strength. But at times I question my maturity. So, will I cave and have to do the walk of shame from the employee restroom after a few moments of sadly embarrassing sex, or will I hold out and be happy with my choices. And maybe just once be gleefully happy with a love I can call my very own, and hold and squeeze and suffocate! Just kidding.....

Ohh well Friday approaches and little bits of apprehension get thrown up in my mouth as I look forward to Saturday... fucking cocksuckers!!!

I am not made of Metal!

2007-01-10T16:22:00.000-05:00

Although the airwaves gave birth to it's proud baby MTV during the height of my baby girl turns to adolescence wonder. I did not have it. Strange enough, my memories of my youth seem to revolve around the times and the people that did. When remincising with family and friends my common question seems to be, "remember the time we visited Uncle so and so, he had MTV.... or remember the time we went to Austin for Mom's job interview, I loved Austin, the hotel had MTV.... or remember when we used to go swimming at so and so's house, they had MTV... " I still remember vividly what was on MTV for all those special moments, the videos that played the commercials that interupted them and the joke VJ's that announced them. awwww the memories.... but thank GOD I did not have it.... who knows what kind of cookie cutter kid I would have turned out to be, if I did! I grew up in Phoenix in the outskirts of town, where cable hadn't been laid and we relyed on the ol rabbit ears or if you were fancy the UHF antena for reception. Out in the boonies there was a little pirate station called Channel 61 that played a great, eclectic mix of music. An hour playlist could consist of the works of Rick James (for those of you who don't know- he was soooooo much more than Superfreak!) The Mary Jane Girls, Tina Marie, intermixed with RUSH, KISS, and The Who and then somehow mixed with Sylvester and Evelyn Champagne King ... I grew up on USA's Night Trax, that gave me Urgh a Music War, which introduced me to my beloved Oingo Boingo, The Cramps and Echo and the Bunnymen. Night Trax played killer movies like Quadrophenia and Ladies and Gentlemen the Fabulous Stains... Although I joined the masses and screamed my head off for Mr. Simon Le Bon of Duran Duran and bought every black jelly bracelet I could find when Madonna made them fabulous I still thought I was a bit smarter and somehow a bit cooler than the rest. I hid a secret love for Disco, and a huge crush on American Hard Rock. I dabbled in reggae, and danced my bootie off anything that made me sway... I had a life size cardboard crush on Bon Jovi but Charlie Parker had a prime spot behind the couch. I had the Jovan Rolling Stones poster above my bed and a collection of The Dead Kennedys and The Circle Jerks hiding under my bed... So although my memories seem to be laced with big time desires for the almighty MTV, I am ever sooo glad I grew up searching for and finding new music...

I shoplift tooo....

2007-01-08T08:23:00.000-05:00

I love dreams that are getting sooo hot, that you can feel it, smell it, taste it, it feels real. It looks real and you hate to wake up... You hear the alarm (or the yelping puppy in my case) but you ignore it because the dream is that good and you would soooo rather be there. I woke this morning, a thin glaze of sweat covering my body and the sweet smell of sex swirling beautiful little trails in my mind...

Let It Ride by Bachman-Turner Overdrive plays loudly, overpowering all possible sounds. I am sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, wearing a tank top and a small pair of shorts, my feet dangling over the side, kicking back and forth against the box spring. Nikki Sixx (of Motley Crue of course...) walks in, clad in only a pair of tight black leather pants. He is on his cell phone, apparently having a heated conversation. He paces back and forth in front of me, giving me little smiles here and there between the grimaces and the looks of frustration. His raven hair teased and spiked to perfection, his heavily tattooed body tenses as he paces. He shuts the phone, and tosses it on the nightstand. He kinda shrugs his shoulders left to right to relieve the tension. I beckon him to the bed, motioning that I would rub his back for him. I scoot back and he sits between my legs. I place my hands on his shoulders and begin to massage his weary muscles. His skin smells of sex and alcohol, and the warmth of his body soo close to mine is making me tipsy. My breathing quickens and hesitates as I get more and more turned on. My hands work their way down his back, my face, my mouth only inches from his skin. He looks over his shoulder and gives me a knowing look and slowly turns pushing me down on the bed. He pushes my legs open, climbs between them, gently resting his body against mine. He pins my shoulder down gently with one hand. The other hand trails slowly up my stomach, across my breasts and as he pushes my hair away from my face he bites down playfully on my neck. A sudden rush of excitement pushes through my body and I arch my back allowing his body to push closer into mine. My hands frantically pull at his pants, wanting them off more than I have ever wanted anything before. He pulls my tank top off over my head as his teeth gently bite and nip at my breasts, I fucking wake up.... my baby puppy yelping to be let outside.....

Fuck I need to get laid!!!!!!!

1001 Random Insignifigant Things About Me

2007-01-06T17:30:00.000-05:00

Number 998- I am usually really bad with pets..

Ask anyone who knows me, I haven't had the best track record.... I admit it. I usually love the idea of owning a pet but once I get them, I tend to get sick of them in about, mmmm 20 minutes.

Example #1- Ezra- he was a beautiful Cocker Spaniel but he had a piddling problem- meaning he constantly dribbled urine- it was uber gross and after 4 months and an apartment that smelled like piss I couldn't take it anymore- he went to nice couple who were looking for a puppy- I stood outside of Petsmart parading him around till I was able to pawn him off...

Example #2- Akira- well I don't know if he counts soo much, I got him as a running partner. I lived downtown Phoenix and used to go running every morning around 5 am- not the safest idea... so I got a nice big high energy dog to take with me- a pretty Border Collie, I picked up at the pound. We lasted a couple months and I moved back home for a summer to help out with my brothers after my parents divorced. The boys fell in love with him so he stayed when I left. They still have him and he is a old sweetie- but the way they tell it, I offloaded him... Whatever...

Example #3- Cesar and Violet- named after characters in that horrid movie Bound- very expensive Persian cats that my Ex husband spent a mint on to spoil me and keep me happy. Only problem- they were disgusting cats and most of the time ran from room to room with shit hanging from their ass. I loathed Cesar the most- he was evil and constantly hissed at me, I would often leave him outside hoping he would run away but the fucker would just sit in front of the door unbudging till my husband got home and let him in. While pregnant with my first, I ended up getting cellulitis from a cat scratch that almost (literally) killed me. Seriously- I had cellulitis in the orbits of my eyes and my face. I survived, but the first time Cesar took a swipe at my baby girl and drew blood, was the last time I owned two pedigree Persians- they went to the Persian rescue that day...

Example #4- Lucky- My pretty but dumb as a door nail West Highland Terrier. I got him for my big kids one Valentines Day. He was a pretty puppy but stupid as fuck and never figured out the potty training thing or anything else for that matter. We lived on a third floor apartment, and as a single mom working two jobs I just didn't have the time or the patience to deal with him, so he kinda ended up living in the master bathroom. A couple months later I found out I was pregnant with the twins, and the smell of him made me ill, the dirty puppy pads made me vomit and my skin broke out in thick bubbly rashes that spread every time I touched him. He had to go away and find a new home as well.

Well, a bad track record with pets is not something I am proud of but something that I do acknowledge. What have I learned from all of this: I have learned that I need a dog that doesn't make me sick, one that I can respect, and one that I am committed to for the long haul. This Christmas I got a puppy for the kids, a beautiful Siberian/Alaskan Malamute mix pup we named Roxy Rockett. Everyone I know has taken bets on how long she lasts... She is a mess, a big raw, crazy, dominant girl pup that keeps me up at night, with her fussing and howling, one that bites holes in my pants and has to be on a special diet of chicken and rice for her sensitive stomach. My kids adore her! And you know what, I love her like crazy too. I knew going into this I was adding a 5th kid, but ya know, I am actually liking it.... Maybe timing and the right dog are the key elements here.

Number 998- I am usually really bad with pets (but hey I am trying to change!!!!)

I have given up...

2007-01-06T16:01:00.000-05:00

I have given up trying, I have given up caring. You say the most hurtful things and you never recant. Years and years of things you say someone else did, but look in the mirror, it is you, it was you, it always has been. You fight to kill, I think merely for the win. The next day it all resumes the way it was, maybe that is your style but not mine. You may have raised the others to that standard but not me. I haven't forgiven you for the problems in the past, the ones that you conveniently tend to forget. All the while, more builds and builds. Layer after layer, the sediment compresses and tiny veins of pain throb through. But you don't see it, you never do. I have tried to explain, I have tried to work it through, but my words are mistaken for challenge and with your talons exposed you go to maim. I wonder does it make you feel empowered, are you making up for the loss of control you once thought you had? Or do you just see too much of him in my eyes, and the acid inside you starts to boil? As a girl, I always felt like an incomplete soul, like this greatly misshapen creature, but I realize now it wasn't my doing but the doing of the units I looked to for the pieces of the puzzle. But in their selfishness they chose to leave out all the corners and a few crucial pieces that made it all make sense. So when I see you close in on my own, it brings out more defense and more anger than you can imagine. I will not let you make my girls feel how I felt. I will not let you use your threats against my boys. The abandonment of love was never an appropriate form of punishment. You may think I do it all wrong, but I know in my heart that I don't. I have 10,000 times more patience than you, I have 10,000 times more wisdom than you give me credit for. I go to sleep every night, aching from what I need and want to say to you... but at least I know I am square with my children and they with me. You see we have this little thing called a policy- we right all wrongs and explain all our actions and no one goes to sleep mad. You could learn something from that.....

Truth be Told

2007-01-03T19:56:00.000-05:00

This Chick is tooo hot for words
Cassia Coffin

1001 Random Insignifigant Things About Me

2007-01-03T16:39:00.000-05:00

Number 999- I hate New Years Resolutions!!!

Total bullshit!! I mean really who keeps with that shit anyways. When you are ready and wanting to make a change, you do... Plain and simple... None of this I am gonna do this or that- just because a new year has started. Make changes because they are needed, wanted or warranted. Not because of a silly date on the calendar. Today, the gym was packed with a thousand and one 40 something year old women, decked out in the brand new work out gear they most likely got as gifts or with their shiny gift cards that came as added bonus in the standard last years Christmas card that everyone picked up at a whopping 75% off sale and saved for a year... whatever the case may be.... Point of this bitch session is the pack of overweight heifers filled my body pump to capacity and because I really needed that extra 5 minutes on the tread mill I was late, and ended up in the very far back behind a saggy ass that was right in my face every lunge and every squat. Sooo close was her ass to my face I now know that she wears a nice size 9 in Hanes Her Way granny panties and seriously needs to embrace a little thing called feminine wash. Yikes, I will be glad when the heifers tire of their new found resolve and retreat to the couches that have worn and shaped to the roundness of their ass as they pop Little Debbie cakes to the welcoming sound of "Come on Down" as Bob Barker asks them to overprice retail items to the nearest hundred. Or at least don't all show up at the exact same.... space it out a little geez....

Number 999- I hate New Year's Resolutions....

1001 Random Insignifigant Things About Me

2007-01-02T20:08:00.000-05:00

Number 1000

I am absolutely addicted to Diet Coke.. Seriously, I am an addict. I get headaches if I don't get one first thing in the morning and will crave them all day. I go through case after case and lots of teeth whitener to offset the caramel coloring. I am hooked on the caffeine and strangely love the taste. I have tried to stop but end up with migraines and turn to food to satisfy the oral fixation. I gain weight and that makes me a neurotic mess, so I pick up the familiar silver and red can, tilt my head back and take in the NutraSweet bitter taste my body has grown to need and love... So in a nutshell, Number 1000- I am addicted to Diet Coke...

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes- part 7

2007-01-02T09:27:00.000-05:00

Ohh Fuck it, Ugly Sex is Hot....

I remember watching the video for Do Ya Think I am Sexy by Rod Stewart as a kid and thinking, "Fuck what a ugly ass band!" Little did I know at the ripe age of 19 his ex drummer would have me propped up on pillows and pounding the shit out of me doggy style for 2 days straight. But you never can predict the future can ya.... I was a drum and bass clinic junkie. Never learned to play an instrument but love the whole art and sex of it all. A drummer friend of mine wanted to go see Carmine Appice's drum clinic and asked me if I wanted to tag along. I had no plan on attending this one, but figured ohh what the hell, it is in Tempe and I can cut out and do some shopping if I get to bored. And of course I did, and I hit the shops, bought a super cute Tank Girl army mini dress and came back to the guitar shop with my treasures in hand. Troy my drummer bud was standing up by the drum set having a shop talk with Carmine. I walked up and stood behind Troy, letting him know I was back, when Carmine gives me the once over and gently grabs my hand, kissing it and asking, "and who might this pretty lil thang be?" Troy smirks with a not again look, says "ohh this is my ride, ummm she is just a friend...." Not too sure how I felt about Carmine at the exact moment, I suppose I was amused, he is sweet enough but not really my physical type, ya know... He is about 30 years older than my normal boy toys and missing that sexy come hither look I love soo much. But he does have that Cat Daddy quality that is kinda alluring. He smoothly asks me out to dinner and I accept. Dinner turns into two days of gifts and sex, sex and gifts, fancy ass hotels and being treated like a little princess. Lots of Pretty Woman moments, not to sure how I feel about all that jazz now, but at the time it was pretty nice... and truth be told the sex was pretty rockin... not lovey dovey but fuck me crazy hard till I cry type of thing... awww just exactly what the doctor ordered.....

1001 Random Insignifigant Things About Me....

2007-01-01T16:11:00.000-05:00

I am a manic thinker, a difficult conversation, my thoughts pop in and out and what seemed like the end all ten minutes ago could be insignificant now. I can't blog to all of you about my day, the projects I am working on or anything that forms a cohesive story. I blog the way I live- random moments held together by the thinned glue that is me. I apologize to those that didn't find what they were looking for. I thank those that did... I love all of you that come back day after day and even those that just pop in from time to time to see what the hell ridiculousness spewed from my mouth and made it onto the page. I can promise to give you only what it is that I am made of, random sparkling thoughts that burst into my head, random meaningless wanderings, slut stories from my past, crude language, and some really poorly drawn cartoons. These things I can assure you will grace the pages that are called my blog.

Number 1001- I love ELO. For being such a metal girl it surprises some the healthy (says, I!) obsession that I have with them. But to put it out on the table they are the only band that genuinely makes me happy every time I hear them. They were my cassette of choice on long drives to San Diego, the CD I popped in when in labor with my daughter and now the cd that is on permanent rotation thanks to my fave Christmas present- the shower CD player. Now I can wriggle my lil naked ass to the most excellent sounds of Turn to Stone and Sweet Talking Woman. Suds, and suds, and suds and say hello to my little friend, the Shower Massager... My ex husband never understood why my dress from the movie Xanadu was more coveted than my wedding ring. Not that, that movie was the bomb diggity or anything- it was that ELO was associated with it. Ok, I lie, I really loved that movie and the dress is beautiful; the white light flow of the fabric, the way the skirt flares out as I roller skated around Venice Beach... ahem.... I love that corny shit. Ohh well, Number 1001- I love ELO....

Forgive Me Bloggers

2006-11-30T08:47:00.000-05:00

For I have been neglectful of my duties..... I have been super busy causing havoc, stripping for strangers, holiday feasting, gym visits to work off the holiday feasting, tending to sick monkeys, doctor visits to treat the sick monkeys, and all together winter laziness.... I will resume posting shortly.. stay tuned.....

Even Roadies Need Love Too...

2006-11-20T16:26:00.000-05:00

But not from me.....

While doing my daily kegels, keeping the gear nice and tight, I had a sudden urge to address the darker side of groupie girl life. (I was having some naughty thoughts.... sometimes the mind tends to wander, sorry about that....)

I am sure there were a few girls who got passed around, used and abused and maybe even ridiculed while trolloping through the circus. There were at times, young girls backstage with low self esteem that lingered and clung like wet t-shirts to big titties. I always felt bad for those girls who flocked and staggered, throwing themselves in front of a moving tour bus if need be. Girls turned tricks and blew nameless grinning roadies all in hopes to meet the band. Girls flashed their tits, and showed their snatch. Girls bribed, begged, borrowed and stole. But not this girl, HELL NO, not me... (ok, I flashed some tittie here and there but does that really count when they look this good?? or am I just being a sharing kinda girl....) I learned my lesson long, long ago. My first blow job was a drunken mishap. Bonfire party, seems like an eternity ago, nameless, faceless guy, up a hill, behind a tree, I drunkenly gave my first sloppy, unskilled BJ. He zipped up and ran back to scene, joining his girlfriend, who screamed over the roar of the fire, "I have been looking everywhere for you!" I sat there and I cried into my Keystone Light. My drunken girlfriends tried their best to comfort me, but I was more ashamed than anything else. The ghost of sober me stood in the distance, arms crossed head shaking, "What the fuck did you expect?" Now, listen kiddies, I am in the big 3- O's now and this was pre Monica Lewisinsky, I went to a different Slut School and we didn't hand out blow jobs like they were Pez back then. Ok, I am sure some girls did.... but not me.... So I vowed, no more of this being used and thrown away shit... In all my years in and out of the the music biz, there were only 2 boys who got selflessly blown, and I loved/lusted them both. Cuz before I even started this little venture, I decided this is as much about ME as it is about YOU and a-hem...... I gotta get mine. So lesson learned and a word of advice to all the new up and cumming lil groupies, if you want to get used, abused and maybe even turned out to a bunch of nobodies- keep handin out the goodies like they don't mean nothing.... or be a smart girl and make em' work for it, make em' beg and make em' want you....

To answer the question- Did you even in the middle of something say fuck it, this guy's not worth it?
Fuck that! I was and am still today a picky bitch, I never slept with or did anything with anyone in the Music biz that I wasn't totally into.... no regrets....

Ohhh and to be fair- MOST girls backstage are not tragedies waiting to happen- they were Rockin Chicks having some fun and hanging out! Rock On all my Sexy Bitches!

Keep an eye out for the new line of interviews starting soon- Kristy Majors of Pretty Boy Floyd popped my cherry once and is cumming back to do it again! Need a hit of glam, missing your Metal! check out Pretty Boy Floyd and breathe deep the Aqua Net!!

Smut, Sluts and Rock and Roll Junk

2006-11-15T09:22:00.000-05:00

Looking back at the good old days with a wicked smile, the good times and the bad. Whatever happened to all the cute rock boys and the hot groupie girls that made it all worthwhile? Did we all go the route of the nine to five? Did we all get fat, go bald, have babies and settle down? Did we give up on the dream, put it in a drawer and shove it away? Or did we keep plugging away? Did any of us groupie girls actually land one of these boys and end up with the big house and fat ring? mmmmm, questions to answered at a later date .... When the face of music changed, I know a lot of us had to change and change fast. There wasn't quite the demand for photographers when the flyers ceased to circulate and I was faced with fat snot nosed baby pics at Sears or get a new gig. I went back to college and did a 360. I did actually land my dream boy for a couple of years, I wore the pretty rock with pride but he too fell into the same Rock and Roll pitfalls I was hoping to avoid. I always ran fast from relationships with rock boys cuz I knew I couldn't handle it. I was a jealous bitch and I knew in my heart, I could never manage the understanding that takes place with that sort of thing. I am sure there were a few out there that were faithful, but I never met any.... not in that business, and yeah that included the married boys. They all cheated and that would have broken my heart and made me nuts. But one day, as the days of fun fantastic metal turned dark, flannel and grungy I met a boy from Jersey that melted my all icy goodness with his leather pants and a little thing for dirty talk. I rode the ride one more time, letting him drag me along.. When the band's videos were in full rotation on MTV, I was itching inside my box trying to figure out how the fuck to get out unscathed. Monster tours, even younger and more aggressive groupies and way tooo many drugs invaded my life and I couldn't handle it, I bowed out gracefully, and left behind a three year relationship and friendship. I married the first non guitar slinging boy that came along and if you have read this blog- you all know how that turned out..... mess, utter mess..... but ya know you live and learn. So running my little series has got me full of nostalgia and a little yearning to know what the fuck happened to everyone. So revisiting a bit of my past and branching out - becoming a writing whore....

Look forward to a new series of interviews with all my Metal babes- Smut, Sluts and Rock and Roll Junk... gonna be hot..... gonna be huge! all the smut you really wanted to know.... all the dirt and all the hot, hot sexcapades- porn meets rock- shroom monkey style! But my question to all of you- What dirty little secrets do you all want to know? Give me your best questions and if they are hot and slutty enough I will use them!

and if you tooo were wondering what happened to my baby Brent (who I still think is the cutest thing ever!) check out Sin City AllStars- if you're in Vegas ever, look them up.....

Later Sluts!

How to Avoid Having Sex With Assholes- part 6

2006-11-09T19:28:00.000-05:00

Fall in love and sleep with his pretty guitarist instead.....

Back the days of decadence and debauchery I ran with a group of girls pretty similar to myself. Groupie girls with big hair, mini skirts and hooker heels. We traded boys like baseball cards, set each up for the score and equally stabbed each other in the back for personal gain. We all had an angle, cover me photographer with the smarts, the baby face and pouty lips, Molly with the rich pops, hot bod, and blond locks, and Mimi had connections with Geffen Records, she had some flaming red and a fierce attitude to match. We worked a room and rounded the boys up, then took our picks. Mimi had been invited to a private party at the Cathouse, we broke out the Aquanet and hopped the Southwest party plane to good ol LA. Cathouse is crazy competition, they don't letcha in for a private party if you don't look and play fierce... I play cute, I always do..... I don't run with the big girls on hot patrol, I know better. You work what works for you and you stay with it. I smile pretty and nab the attention of Taime Downe of Faster Pussycat. Mimi is old fuck buddies with Taime and she spies me across the room, having a close convo. He is whispering in my ear, random whatevers, I can't hear a word he is saying the music is way loud, I nod and smile, fiending interest, keeping his hand from traveling any further up my thigh. I am wearing a spandex lace up the side mini skirt, and panties are a no no with anything that tight. A couple more inches and the boy with be fingering the gold. I am really not interested in this boy, but the piercing stares that Mimi shoots across the room are cracking me up. He notices the shark circling and suggests maybe a threesome. I love my girl, but I don't love her that much, plus the knowledge of multiple bouts of genital warts is enough to deter me from any triple kiss. Brent Muscat, the prettiest boy I have ever seen, struts his cute little self over to Taime to tell him something, as he leans over our eyes meet and I am a goner. He is ultra feminine but for some reason I find him irresistible. He says hello and smiles, I bite my lip in deep girly thought/fantasy, I want to marry this man.... what the fuck is wrong with me? ohh shit, I am smitten and as he walks away I immediately get up and follow almost in a trance. Taime grabs my arm, looking confused but keeping with cocky he asks me to get him a beer since I was getting up. Sure, yeah, I nod and point towards the bar. Mimi closes in two seconds later, cool by me, she said he was a shitty lay why the territorial claim? Ya know, whatever... I am looking for Bret. I turn looking left and right frantic that I may have lost him in the crowd or worse to another whore... But ironically he is standing two feet in front of my, watching me and laughing, he totally knew..... I walked up and he brushes the hair from my face, kisses me gently on the forehead and asks my name. We got a cab about 5 minutes later, making out feverishly in the back seat. A nice night of what didn't feel like random sex followed by a sweet goodbye kiss as he dropped me off at the airport the next day. We never did see each other again, but man...... I fell for that boy hard..... I was always afraid if I saw him again I would fall apart or fall in love... groupie girl nightmare and biggest regret.....

I'm Sorry, Tommy Nguyen

2006-11-07T07:12:00.000-05:00

14 year old girls giggling away, simple lives, chips and dip, Glenn Allen won't return my phone calls. Shopping trips, crazy hair styles, dragon nails and my mother's heels. I loved being 14. Before the days of caller id, before the days of the internet, and Myspace and instant messenger. I loved slumber parties and staying up all night pranking all the boys that couldn't be bothered enough to care. The small list of adorable boys gets used and abused in the course of an hour and my mind wanders to the what could be. I place my menu in front of me, The New Times band members wanted page and start my first course. I pose as the girlfriend of a guy who plays the bass, who is looking for a new band for the last one he is in just totally broke up, man (yes I can say all that in one breath..) Somehow and surprisingly it goes exactly how I figured, I flirt and they all take to it like little flies to fresh shit. I make "friends" with one boy, Tommy and we seem to click right off the bat, only he isn't a boy, more like a man, well more like 21 and in college. I tell him my name is Kayleigh (it isn't...) and we start up a flirtation that lasts for 3 years. All during the time, I am way to young and I get buried neck deep in the lies that I tell, covering for my age and various perceived flaws. We may have run into each other a million times for we hunted on the same grounds and we frequented the same haunts. But wrapped up in the masquerade we never knew who the other really was. We were close, as close as you can be without the physicality and I thought in my heart that this guy really could be the one. Three years is a long time to keep a pseudo love affair going. We went through various dramas and traumas. We somehow never once lost touch. Then when it seemed enough was enough we agreed to meet. Apprehension thick and acidic flowed though my veins, I couldn't remember if I told him if I was a brunette or a blond or what the fuck I told him I looked like. Ohh well, I was 17 and cute this couldn't possibly go wrong, could it? We planned a easy meet, record store on 7th ave, he walked in and I wanted to bolt.... This wasn't the hot rocker I thought I had twisted around my baby sized finger. This was some short Asian guy with Prince permed hair and platform boots and he even with the two inch lift he still only reached my boobs. I'm not a tall girl, only 5'5 and this guy was itty bitty. I had a completely different vision in my head. I got the impression from his confused look that I wasn't his perfect playmate either. Ohh what the fuck did I tell him? Did he ever mention he was this fucking short? Didn't he say he was good looking? mmmmm...... Three years of talk all swirled around in little whirlpools of blur.... who knows?? He walks up, smiles a sheepish smile. His teeth were grotesquely crooked and discolored and for me that was the deal breaker. I quickly announce that I couldn't stay, I had a friend who needed me to pick up asap for she had been drinking and had gotten herself in a bit of trouble. I power walk to the open door, jump in my Chevy Citation and that was the end of Tommy. Weird, three years of phone calls, and the end happens so abruptly it was like it never existed. Was I really that shallow? Was I really that immature? Fuck, I was 17, of course I was. Time travels and I go off to college and forget all about Tommy. Well, that is till one day when one of my girlfriends tells me she has fixed me up on a blind date with this guy that she thinks I would be soooo perfect for. I am game til she tells me it with this really sweet guy named Tommy Nguyen. Nooooo way.......

Couple months later I unwittingly date his brother Kenny..... talk about awkward moments......

Another Comment Turned Post Moment.....

2006-10-27T08:58:00.000-05:00

Welcome to relationship limbo. Where you teeter totter not knowing which feels better the joys of going up and touching the clouds or the wind flying though your hair as you go down... you got to decide which is better.... or if you just can't seem to get off the ride...

Poor Yazzy in classic girl relationship break and make mode. I left a little comment and it got me thinking:

If it all went smoothly would it be as interesting? I love the new and hate the tears that accompany a break but would life be the same without the manic curves? Some relationships grow with the outing of some bad news, once the emotion has passed and time has been given to allow for perspective. Sometimes they just never were meant to be, both split and never look back. Not for the memories being bad, just they were not worthy of being memories at all. Some relationships gasp for air, flop about til they die a slow painful death, drawn out in effort to lessen the pain, but in reality more painful for they accompanied a longer period of time. Some breaks hurt and burn for what feels like all of eternity. Sometimes our heart breaks and we never really recover, making every new experience that comes along tainted with the dark cloud that we tied to a string for safe keeping. Sometimes we learn from our breaks and become better people. Sometimes we don't. Some past loves are the standard that we hold all new relationships to and no one can ever make the grade. Sometimes they become our best friend. Sometimes they become a nice little piece of the past. Sometimes they are a vivid nightmare that wakes us from our sleep. We are who we are based on the good and the bad, the ups and the downs, the makes and the breaks. We are who are are because the ride down is just as stimulating as it is on the way up. I guess it is all in how you perceive it.....

and to be real, they can't all be happily ever after.....

Totally Cheesetastic

2006-10-27T07:40:00.000-05:00

Number one reason to love cold weather- Blanket Sleepers. The cutest thing to ever be invented!!! Little monkeys just crying out to be cuddled and squeezed. (yeah, they are watching My Name is Earl- they love it- they have great taste in tasteless TV)

Cozy fires and snuggling under soft blankets on the couch! The sound of winter rains tapping on the windows. The crunch of leaves underneath my feet. I love the shift in weather, out comes the cute jackets, short skirts, tights, and some sexy boots. I do fall in style, baby!

After a week of my little clan getting a wicked stomach flu one by one, and plenty of time on my hands and knees cleaning the carpet by hand, I am ready for a change in spirit. Time to shake off the negativity cloak I have donned and time for a new capelet of fun and happiness.. The weather here is finally starting to change, some nice brisk days, some hot tea and a good book, awww ready for a change.....

Cherry ice cream smile, I suppose it's very nice

2006-10-23T21:35:00.000-05:00

After a weekend of boiling in a pot of piss- I decided time to snap out of the funk and get the going on, going on.... I can't sit there and allow silly little insecure people get the best of me. So in an effort to squash the remaining tensions I hit up the gym, as Jane Fonda once said in her lil striped leotard- Feel the burn baby, feel the muther fuckin burn. I worked up a sweaty mess this morning on the Elliptical machine. I don't have the co ordination to work it backwards but I try, man I try. Fartboy with the headband, jumps on besides me and starts to read my copy of Instyle over my shoulder. He points to some lingerie on the page and tells me I would like hot in that. I look at him like he is retarded and tell him one day I am gonna run him down in my car and run his ass over, and then back up and do it again and again till he is a mess of goo on the road. He laughs at me, as if I am flirting or joking, but I am not. I seriously want his little headband wearing self to fuck off but he never seems to get the hint. I wonder if I will ever get sooo hard up for a lay that I actually fuck his smelly ass. Naaaah, I could never be that desperate.... Please God no.... A lazy afternoon and a really good solo session leads to the wickedest cum, I have ever had- sooo kudos to me... Good job shrooms, good job... I got a hold of the Halloween candy last night so decided to punish myself by hitting the gym for the second time for a wicked body pump class. I kicked it up a notch and grabbed heavier weights than normal. I positioned myself behind the hottest chick in the class, for two reasons, if I gotta watch someone squat and lunge in front of me- it might as well have a fine ass, and secondly I tend to push myself harder when I am in competition. Sooo the music starts and I loose myself in the adrenaline. I feel my muscles quiver and shake as the barbell becomes heavier and heavier with every lift. But I like what I see in the mirror, so I keep it up. I love the cut of my arms, I have some Angela Basset biceps for sure. We lay down on our mats for triceps and as I raise my arms over my head, I realize I must of forgotten deodorant under one arm because it is just foul.... I turn my head and give the other a quick inconspicuous snifferooo, nope powdery fresh. But the smell is kinda bothering me, cuz I do take pride in being a well groomed clean kinda girl and this little funk is disturbing me so much that it breaks my concentration and I drop the friggin barbell on my forehead. So now I got a raging pain burning across my brow and I smell, fuck this day just got retarded... Ohh well, the bruise on my head will fade ( I hope...) and my weekend scars have disappeared and I look freakin fabulous.... So what, I have totally chaos when it comes to the ex- I am taking some friends advice and limiting my contact to slim to none. And so what I can't seem to get laid- I am working some magic with this rabbit. And so what I can't seem to keep a man, all the one's I've had weren't worth shit anyways (well, 95%) So new skies ahead for Shroomy- new prospects call me- 1-866-hot-forU only $2.99 a minute.....

I Once Knew a Girl Named Karma....

2006-10-21T17:29:00.000-05:00

She was pretty cool... But my ex's girlfriend is a cunt!

I received the loveliest of emails from my ex's girlfriend today- a nice little attack on me, myself, and my character. Thought I would share some of my favorite lines:

...... but oh I forgot you own the kids he is only a sperm donor and a monthly check!!

Don't forget the reason he is able to pay his child support and help with other expense is because he lives with me ........

...... he does not acknowledge being the twins father,(pretty sad ha!!) I wonder why !!

....... you seem to get pregnant every time, it seems to me that you was trying to trap him.

....... as per paternity test it will be requested along with visitation /share custody and request that the children would not be able to leave the country .

la, de, da, the bitch is gonna die.

I don't understand people anymore, I just don't.... This woman has never met me, probably has never heard once ounce of truth about me, and she finds it necessary and somehow appropriate to send me an email to tell me how she feels about me. I wish my ex had the balls to tell her to mind her own business. I wish my ex would be man enough to own up to the truth that is/was our relationship. He doesn't see the kids, cuz honestly he doesn't want to. But I am sure he paints a picture of me being some controlling bitch who uses her kids as leverage or some sort of bargaining tool. But I am not and I don't......

Poor judgement on my part, led me to where I am now. I knew when I met him, he was all wrong, but he was the polar opposite of everything I was drawn to in a man. All of my past loves were horrible wrecks and I was tired of crashing and burning. I saw some sort of potential in him, an air of confidence and determination. But now in hindsight, I realize my contacts must of expired because that air was merely a haze and where there is haze, there is often fog and fog can lead to a nasty accident. I knew it when I let him slip that pretty diamond ring on my finger, but I already had a little being growing in my belly and I wanted to give her a family. I watched my own parents slip and fall into selfishness and betrayal and I wanted so desperately to give her the happily ever after that I never had. So I figured if I was the best wife and mother I could possibly be the love and the marriage would just fall into place. It never did, and I never lived up to the ideal he had in his head either. His attention swayed quickly and he spent most of his time drunkenly waking in other people's beds. I left my Southwest home and my life and I drove across the country my little one happily dancing in her car seat singing Rock this Town as we drove across the US. We moved to a new town and decided to make a new life. But the bastard followed me, and pleaded he could give me everything I ever wanted. I gave it a try, and then I gave him a son. He left me a week before his arrival telling me he loved another , and then he disappeared. I struggled and toughened up, and faced life on my own . I had a wonderful friend and some great family support, and two little faces that gave meaning to everyday. I realized that I could really kick some ass and be strong if I had to. I was happy and successful. Then three years later and completely out of the blue, he showed back up, wanting to play Dad, ready to grow up, ready to face the music and accept responsibility. I was cautious and kept my distance. I had moved on and had fallen for another but was feeling that relationship slip away, I felt desperate and helpless. Some twisted part of me kinda hoped I could rectify it all and give my kids a family, a nice little portrait with a dog and a cat, and a little house with a picket fence. Some shots of tequila and a single drunken moment gave way to two more in a single shot. He left the next week and I faced a long difficult pregnancy all by myself. I struggled and worked two jobs and I made it through. I now have four little monkeys and they are the best little things in the whole wide world. Sure we have ups and downs, but man, we have a lot of fun. So in moments like this where fatherhood is defined as "a sperm donor and a monthly check," I have to question, Where was he when I had to rush little ones to the Emergency room at 2 am, or when I had to clean shit off the wall, or throw up out of shag carpeting? Where was he for playoff games and graduations? Or visits to the zoo, or birthday celebrations? I hate that it gets twisted into being something negative about me? I hate that this bitch thinks she knows something about me and my life... I hate that she thinks she knows what is best for my kids, I hate that she thinks her behaviour is ok. I hate that she is a 6 hour drive away, cuz I would totally slice the bitch........

Kareem Abdul Jabar My Ass

2006-10-16T06:28:00.000-05:00

I woke up this morning at 2 am to mourn the loss of yet another year. I loathe birthdays.... Fuck, I am now 35, and feeling half way to death. I laid there thinking about the graph chart that is my career, the highs and lows peaking in dramatic fashion. This year, the chart dipping below the line, making me feel useless and unmotivated. I laid there thinking, damn I am all alone in this bed. Relationship after relationship fucked and seemingly unsalvageable. I laid there thinking about all the missed opportunities and all the mistakes. I laid there thinking that I have accomplished like none of the goals I had for myself. I laid there knowing this birthday like all birthdays would be just like any other day, nothing special, no presents, no moments that would outshine all the rest. So after a few moments of feeling sorry for myself, I cuddled up to my pillow, wiped away my tears and went back to sleep.

I woke up this morning, to my kids singing Happy Birthday to me, although they can't fix everything, they can really put a smile on my face. Their little faces are all I need to forget all the rest. They made me cards last night, and were eager to give them to me. They really are the loves of my life.

I washed my face and looked in the mirror, thinking mmmm pretty ok for 35. No grey hair (yet), no wrinkles (yet..) and still looking cute sporting a tiny tank top (no underarm flab wings yet.....) The titties are holding up, (no dramatic droop yet...) looking pretty ok if I do say so myself.... So although I am a bit depressed about getting old, at least I don't look it. (yet...)

I checked my email and had already received my first birthday email from one of my favorite people on the planet, so that is a good sign... This one always puts a little smile on my face...

Maybe today will be a good day after all... Maybe the man of my dreams will ride up on a silver stallion, maybe VH1 will give me a call offering me my own show, maybe that lottery ticket will be a winner, maybe there will be a rockin Trans Am with Nick Lachey sitting on the hood all wrapped up in a red ribbon will be parked in the driveway and maybe I stop being delusional.

Ohh well, it really is just another day......... whatever the case Happy Birthday to Me!!!!!

A little slap and tickle.....

2006-10-12T13:05:00.000-05:00

My baby cakes Bubbly thought it would be good idea to tag me..... Funny, when I was a kid and someone tagged me I usually beat their ass.. But since he making good on his promise of sending me some hot nuddie pics of him and his sexy friend, I figured what the hell. I am a sucker for cock shots.... throw in some titties and I am salivating....

1) Would you bungee jump?
why yes, if I could do it naked cuz that would be a rush..... I can almost feel the cool breeze now...

2) If you could do anything in the world for a living what would it be?
Ummm Hello- a commentator on VH1- Best Week Ever! and a rich and powerful socialite a la Paris Hilton- so I too could flutter about half naked and drunk and get the paparazzi's panties wet! Yes, that would be the life for me.....

3) Your favorite fictional animal?
When I was a kid, I fell in love with the movie The Last Unicorn- it was soo dreamy and pretty. I really wanted a Unicorn, I tried to tape a cornucopia to my pony- it really didn't look quite the same...

4) One person who never fails to make you laugh?
My son Christopher- he is a riot. He says the most ridiculous stuff I have ever heard and can make me laugh no matter what kind of mood I am in..

5) When you were 12 years old what did you want to be when you grew up?
Yikes, I was a mess at 12, I had just realized the power that sex had on men, and I wanted to capture that and bottle it up. I wanted to be a stripper- I figured all they had to do was plant that pussy a couple of inches away from a man's face and they owned him.. I blame Flashdance... I never saw the negative side of it all, I only saw stilettos, big tits and wads of cash. All I ever thought I wanted....
Disclaimer- I did grow up and learn a few things about life... I never became a stripper but I indeed learned that the pussy has all the power....

6) What is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?
masturbate... No just kidding... I always wash my face- helps wake me up and gets the eye boogers out...

7) Have you ever gone to therapy?
Yes, only briefly I realized very quickly that I was way smarter than my therapist and knowing that made it hard to respect her. I hate to admit it but there was nothing that she said that I did not already know about myself. I knew my issues and now to fix them, I just didn't want to. Simple as that..... When I was ready, I did..

8) If you could have one super power what would it be?
To travel though time.. mostly so I can see what next weeks lottery numbers will be and win it all baby!

9) Your favorite cartoon character?
Dotty from Clue Club. Clue Club was sort of a poor man's Scooby Doo. Same premise teens go in and solve the crimes that stump the local sheriff. They even had a couple of hound dogs that aided in the investigation. Dotty had all the brains, she always got left behind at the club house, some bullshit about it being too dangerous. But even though she wasn't in the mix, she always had it all figured out. I kinda was Dotty growing up- always right outside the circle but at a better vantage point because I could actually see everything...

10) Do you go to church?
as a tourist.... but not to practice..

11) What is your best childhood memory?
None of them.... there is honestly nothing that stands out as ohh wow that was great, everything seems to have some sort of negative twist to it.... I have lots of pretty Polaroids swirling around my head but none of them form a cohesive story...

12) Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?
no, I still think it is a beautiful thing regardless of my past negative experiences. I have no doubt that I will fall in love again and be in total silly bliss as I plan my wedding- may it be formal and all Martha Stewart or total cheese and held in the local roller skating ring... either way I totally have to have my skull ring... that is a must!

13) Do you own a gun?
I have lots of squirt guns- those are the funnest things ever! but I would not ever have a gun in my house. I am all about the hammers- I have keep a couple of big ass hammers underneath my bed and I swear fuck with me, I will implant those fuckers in your head.... but no, guns are scary....

14) Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
in joking, playfully..
in bed, with a little riding crop
but never ever in anger....

15) Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
yes, but I have wicked stage fright so I am not sure if it came across as singing or screaming... Hard to say, I drunkenly fell off the stage and passed out cold. I am guessing they thought I sucked cuz no one bothered to see if I was all right...

16) What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Their eyes- I want someone with eyes that smile and light up with enthusiasm when they talk. That is such a total turn on!

17) What is your biggest mistake?
Not believing in myself, not taking risks and making my dreams happen. letting life just happen and not seizing the moments.

18) Say something totally random about yourself.
I get lost in my emotions, I love falling in love, I try really hard to be tough and handle things but inside I am very girly and sensitive.... I would do most anything for my friends..

19) Has anyone ever said that you looked like a celebrity?
no, never.. in fact most people can't place me ethnically either- I kind of get adopted my every culture for I assimilate quite easily. I have my own original look- I am quite glad for that...

20) What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
I am not a over the top romantic- I like things like when a guy grabs my ass, or stops in the middle of the cross walk to kiss me, or rips my clothes off within the first five minutes of meeting me. To me that is romance..... Ok once in a while I like some pretty flowers..

21) Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
yeah, I do.... I have nothing better to do with my time....

Ok fuckers I am gonna pass this on to the next 3 victims... I am sorry babes.... really I am....

Gorilla88 (cuz he said that no one ever tags him- soo you kinda asked for it)
Miroslav (cuz he never plays with me anymore)
Puck (cuz he probably won't play along- and I don't blame him....)

Either way I am done with this...... suckas!

A Pocket Poet

2006-10-10T08:36:00.000-05:00

A pocket poet walks the streets taking in the sights. His head scrambling with new thoughts and new questions. He is a key observer of life yet questions his every breath. He takes the obscure and brings it to the forefront, adjusting his aperture with every glance. He takes the minute points in stranger's conversations. He rambles to himself and taking notes in his imaginary pad, graphite flicking off his page, as he shorthands it all into his pocket. He can not sit still for but a few, itching as new conflicts swirl into funnel clouds of self loathing and doubt. He watches the news from department store windows and reads the headlines with ever growing curiosity. He takes in all the news of the world, he sizes it down, focuses it and fits into his little pocket. His pockets become heavier with every step and by the end of the day he feels he has carried the burdens of a thousand men. He undresses and climbs into his bath, content to wash all the world away. But his jacket lies just a few feet away, resting on the hamper and the bulging pocket distracts him from his relaxation. He lays his weary head upon his pillow and can not sleep. The weight of the world rests upon his head and he feels the cracking blinding pain.

This is why I am not a thinker. I chose not to think, well at least not very hard. It is conscious choice, I have the aptitude to accomplish the greatest deeds of the century. But I like sleep, I like stupid TV and reading Cosmo. I like my sanity with a sprinkle of decaf, nothing complicated, nothing to keep me running like a hamster in a never ending spinning wheel. I like the luxury of living in a bubble. It is safe inside my bubble and I have it decorated it quite nicely. Like the Wheel of Fortune, I turn over the letters only one at a time. I know what it spells but I fiend surprise when it all comes together. It works for me. Once upon a time, I took it all in and cared way too much. No one ever cared back so I stopped, content to pretend that all was well. I discovered Clinton and he told me prevention was the wave of the future but prevention never paid and the jobs he promised never were created. I wasted plenty of time volunteering my efforts, feeding the hungry, saving crack babies and taking blood pressure readings of the homeless who lived in the river bottom. Yeah, yeah I got a few thanks, a nice plaque for the wall, a broken nose and missed a few football games. But now I realize I could have made a fortune and been living the life I like to fantasize about if I had spent more time on me.

Now my greatest goal- to be a commentator on VH1's Best Week Ever! I would totally rock at that....... don't cha think???

One Day, One Day....... you'll see......

2006-10-05T13:09:00.000-05:00

These lips would tell you that I loved you a thousand times a day, if only I thought you felt the same. I would scream it from the roof top and have it silk screened on a shirt. I would wear that love soo proudly, I would be the mayor of the parade. The best times I ever had were the ones I had with you. In the greater span of life, they were but a blip, but a few moments that I cherish, and could not ever forget. I could spend hours on the phone captured by your words. I could live the rest of my life wrapped warmly in your arms. I could be happy and content to know that I am totally yours... These lips smile whenever I think of just your name. These lips pout when I think that maybe you don't feel the same. You bring out the best in me, the awkward weary girl seems to go away. My walk picks up gait, and takes on a new bounce. My smile grows even bigger as my eyes twinkle with little tiny thoughts. My head feels like it is afloat, as I feel my heart racing, soo fast that it almost hurts. These lips melt, when I think of your lips touching mine. I wonder, wonder will you ever be mine?

Fuck it, I am sooo gonna have some random sex!!! This girl needs to get laid before I burn off my clit with the o'l vibrator or I get carpal from all this finger action!!!! This is crap......

Hey Suckas- enough sappy bullshit, I got a birthday coming up on the 16th and I am never a birthday look at me, look at me whore, but fuck it I want gifts, love, sex and recognition. I almost always get screwed on my birthday and spend it alone with Dick Clark (ohh fuck that is New Years, that day always sucks too) this time it has to be different. Let's see, what do I want this year- to get way drunk, to get way fucked, and to get way happy. So party on dudes and buy me gifts- no handmade crap or macaroni art fuckers....

How to Build a Better Man....

2006-10-02T08:59:00.000-05:00

There is no perfect mate. There is no Mr. Right....

There is possibly:

Mr. Compatible (enough...)

Mr. He Doesn't Make Me Sick

Mr. Emotionally Wounded But Good in the Sack

Mr. Damn Close to Perfect but Gay

Mr. Awesome Friend But Has a Micro Dick

I wish I could build a better man, taking all the bits and pieces from friends, lovers and objects of desire and make me a mate that I could love forever. I can sample from my blogger beaus and create someone with a soul and a heart like Puck, a tortured spirit like Merlin, a sense of fun and zest for life like Christopher, the youth and potential of String, a great evening anecdote like Dale, a mess of tats like Skincarver, a great friend like Bubbly and the artistic talent and banter of intectual nonsense of my fellow Monito. I wish I throw in the income of Bill Gates and the looks of Ewan McGregor (yeah throw in that cute accent too.) I would wish for a lover of the highest quantity, no sappy romantic shit for me, I am a down and dirty girl, and I need a man with some serious stamina. I would want someone who likes to hold my hand while walking down the street and cuddling on the couch watching porn after the kids have drifted off to sleep. I would want someone who could throw a Frisbee and catch a football and doesn't fall over his own feet. I want someone who would play with the kids and earn their love and trust. I want someone who could whip up a yummy dish, and not too manly that he can't help with the dishes. I want someone with a sense of humor and understands my desire for a platinum skull ring in place of a traditional wedding band. So I am gonna throw in all these little wishes into a pot, bring it to a boil and let it simmer for a couple days. Hopefully, hopefully this concoction will bring about the perfect man for me.....

But I doubt it..... I guess I will keep on shopping.....

Funny, the things you learn from kids....

2006-09-29T17:59:00.000-05:00

Love- I wonder if I had never had my children would I have a clue what that word even means. I never thought my heart was capable of loving sooo much. I always thought of myself as a hollow shell, and that my existance on this earth was purely meant just to go through the motions, one heavy step at a time, until I died. But then I had this little girl, who would look at me with these big brown eyes and she would change everything. She would bring tears to my eyes at the mere thought that I would have to live one day without her. She would mend all my wounds and show me things I never knew existed. She would pull out the best in me and make me see the beauty in the world instead of all the strife. She would become my best friend and my little rock when things felt like they were at an end. She taught me how to love....

Laughter- Little boys have this great ability to find the game in everything. I see his shadow and I smile, I know he is up to mischief and there will be a mess to clean, but I welcome the chase. He has this twinkle in his eyes that makes me melt and that sweet giggle that makes me laugh. I went through life in an uncomfortable pose, hoping I either met the standard or trying to shake the foundation- but never knowing who it was I wanted to be. I never could relax enough to say the first word, or take the first step. My son taught me to be fearless for the sake of fun. To live life on the wing of spontaniety and to be silly even at the risk of looking foolish.

Patience- Two babies waking every 30 minutes every night for a year could crumble a kingdom if a little lesson in patience was not learned. Two little sets of legs running quickly in opposite directions into oncoming traffic would be the best way to describe an adventure I call twins. They came to me when I thought my life was going a different route, when I was wanting to be more selfish and indulgent, but they told me no. They told me that I had a place and it was a good place and that although at times I felt I was about to break, I learned that my heart, my arms, my back and my mind could handle more. They pushed it to the limit and made me take a step back to reorganize. They were a gift and a gift I am ever soo thankful for.

They all made me realize my own strength and I once in a while when I think no one is looking, I pat myself on the back.....

Boys Suck........

2006-09-20T14:42:00.000-05:00

Boys are Bullshit!
We all get the old heave, ho every now and then, but I hate sugar coated break ups. The worst line ever- I think you are amazing, but this is not gonna work out... If I am sooo amazing, why the fuck am I getting dumped?? Tell the truth- you're already fucking someone else??? You want to fuck someone else? You have grown tired of me and my nonstop talking? My jealous rages are no longer cute? My mansion in Beverly Hills is no longer stylish enough for you? You have finally decided to come out of the closet? You are fucking my mother? You have a livestock fetish? You got a nasty case of herpes at the swingers club? You secretly want to become a woman? You are joining a cult or becoming Morman?

Something, Anything..... I want to know that this break up is all about you and has nothing to do with me... Cuz I am great! I am cute, and funny, and creative, I suck a mean cock and I like to fuck like everyday.... So I can't be me, I am doing everything right! I laugh at your jokes, I support your dreams and goals, I wear the cute lingerie and always fiend total interest in what you have to say. I don't come on too strong, I stay aloof and unattached yet am available when ever you need me. I slip you dirty pictures and pack a filling yet creative lunch. I have dinner waiting for you as you walk through the door. I keep myself pretty and shaved and stay fit at the gym, I wash my face and use deodorant.

I totally do it all..... C'mon just put it out there and tell me something new- I always get the old, "you are great but this is just not working? It makes me feel like crap, like somehow no matter how hard I try I will never be enough....

It is all total bullshit, whether it be a relationship, a love affair, a marriage or a crush you never get over... Somehow we women try too hard, and it hurts all the more when it doesn't pan out...

Next boy who fucks me over is gonna get it... I will push him off a ledge, and laugh crazily as he plummets 50 feet down to a sharp jagged demise... As he lays there pierced and bleeding by a million spikes and has crushed his every bone and ruptured his every organ, I think I might feel better....

Strange Things About Me- You Would Never Know Unless I Told You- #5

2006-09-19T07:52:00.000-05:00

An Elephant Once Spoke to Me.....

One labor day weekend, a friend and I decided at the last minute to head off to sunny San Diego for a last minute vacation. We packed our cutest bikinis and board shorts, filled up the ol CRX, picked up the mandatory Diet Cokes and Pretzels and hit the road. We weaved in and out to traffic, pushing my little car to make it through the desert in record speed. Thoughts of the beach, checking out the cute surfers and maybe doing some touristy stuff swirled around my little head. We got in around 8 pm and decided to grab dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. I ordered a concoction of goat cheese, red peppers and eggplant and was nice and full, patting my bulging tummy after a meal of pure gluttony feeding frenzy. We settled in at the local Travelers Inn and turned back the musty sheets for a good nights sleep. Or soo I thought... something about that pizza just killed me from the inside out. I made good friends with the bathroom tile that night.. God, food poisoning is a bitch! The next morning, we had made plans to hit the San Diego Wildlife park and being the trooper that I am, I hoofed it through the park grumbling tummy and all. After about an hour of misery, I told my friend to go on without me, that I would take a rest and maybe close my eyes for a few minutes on a hill near the elephants. As I laid there, I heard a husky deep voice calling me. I turned my head and saw all 4 elephants staring in my direction. I dreamily walked up to them realizing that my state of sickness was causing some minor dillusions. I sat directly in front of them, wondering out loud, "how long is this shit gonna last?" The eldest of the elephants stepped forward and somehow spoke to me, not out loud mind you, but somehow told me to go up the hill and there I would find an herb garden. He said to eat a handful of spearmint and I would feel better. It struck me as odd, I had never been to the park before and never once glanced at a map. But fuck at this point I was feeling like I was gonna colapse, so I followed his instructions and walked up the hill. Sure enough there was a herb garden and I picked the spearmint and ate it. Within minutes the roaring and thrashing of my stomach stopped and I felt ok. I went back to the elephants to thank them but they all turned the opposite direction and would not turn to even look at me, no matter how hard I tried to get their attention. Strange but true...........

Banksy's elephant said to leave him the fuck alone, he likes the make-up and thinks he looks HOT!!! You silly PETA people get a life..............

I Want a Pony for Christmas

2006-09-14T08:10:00.000-05:00

with all of our busy lives and our disconnect from our immediate surrounding do we ever wonder where all the normalcy went? we don't meet the same, we don't socialize the same we don't even love the same anymore. can we fall for complete strangers? can we rationalize that it makes sense? can we be promised and not have met? can my best friends be the ones i make believe, made semi real via some cables and cords. can my hottest fantasies be ones i have never seen or heard? can i reach out and touch you having no clue what direction to extend my arms? it is a strange world, this blogger world... i have made some unexpected friends, stumbled upon some strange enemies, realized some of my own insecurities, and then realized a few more things i didn't care to know... saw some babies and watch these little beings grow, swapped music, books, and celebrity pics... reached out across the ocean to find and lose love... shook some hands, and patted some backs and maybe even sold my soul for a few comments...

My Ex-Husband's New Girlfriend Needs to be Shot

2006-09-11T08:21:00.000-05:00

Why do women always want to change the world??

I have no issues with my Ex being involved, I really don't. We have been split for about 5 years now, and we both have realized with total certainty that we were a match that should have never been. We made some cute kids, had a few laughs, fought more than I care to share, and ummm he was a total whore.... We have both moved on and have worked hard to be friends for the sake of our own sanity and for our kids. He has a new girlfriend, well not really new, he has been with her pathetic old ass for the last 3 years but I just recently learned of her. She has decided that she wants to be my "friend"- ohhhh what the fuck??? I think her definition of friend is mixed up with mortal enemy... On a recent trip to visit with the Ex, she pulled out every trick in the book... she erased my voice mails stating that I was there, she kicked him out when he told her we was gonna meet us, she attempted to corner me at my motel and confront me, and she pushed, pushed, pushed him to take me back to court to reassign custody (so she can play house with my kids)... DRAMA!!!! She has sent me several nasty emails questioning me about absurd things that make no sense. It is too much, it drains me..... My kids see their father maybe 2x a year- he is 6 hours away and can't seem to make the trip. This bitch makes it impossible for him to see us when we happen to be in the same town. I am about to pull out the cholla within and slice a bitch... but I am a lady and instead I will just bitch about her behind her back....

My Message to the new girlfriend:
My kids are none of your business Bitch
You can have my Ex-husband, he was an ass and a lousy lay- you are free to keep him
If I drive 7 hours so my monkeys can see their father- ohh yeah you best not interfere
The next time you to corner me in a hotel- they are gonna find you chopped into a million pieces stuffed under the mattress..

I'm out!!

Stop Dry Humping the Pillow, I am back....

2006-09-08T09:24:00.000-05:00

It is gonna be ok..... I promise........

Ohh I'm sorry, have I neglected the blog.... I will never leave all my little whores again. Was there no one to jerk you off this week??? No worries babes I am back... get the lube and the Kleenex ready for me.

I took a little vacay down to sunny Florida for a much needed break. Hit the beach, got that last tan of the season, scammed on the surfers, flirted with the hot lifeguards, ate some great seafood, shook my money maker for the hotties at the clubs, and umm managed to get absolutely no action.. What the fuck??? I think it was the little moochers I brought along- constantly messing with my game. Kids are such cock blockers- plus if they asked me one more time, "Mommy is that my Daddy?" I was gonna freak...

Took the monkeys down to Saint Augustine and checked out the Alligator Farm, we walked around with our best faux accents saying, "that is the biggest croc I have ever seen!!" Who knew poor Steve Irwin would bite the big one the next day... Well I gotta say, I will miss his crazy enthusiasm!

I have missed all sorts of crazy news this week.... Baby Suri was revealed.... You know what, I think she is pretty darn cute... Gwen Stefani is coming out with a line of "rock and roll" dolls that look that total crap. What happened to the cute little ska girl I loved in No Doubt? She has become a cartoon parody of herself... Paris Hilton gets busted for drunk driving- if she didn't blurt out some racial slurs and hateful crap- I could care less. Jessica Simpson is dating John Mayer (beauty and the geek) and Lindsay Lohan got her Birken bag stolen in London... Like I said super important crazy news.....

My fave, fave, fave story... Danger Mouse and Banksy Burn Paris

Check out this Genius

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes - part 5

2006-08-30T12:40:00.000-05:00

Fire Your Pimp
I had to shoot the band Extreme for a local paper, it was one of the lamest shoots I had ever endured. The lead singer, Gary Cherone has absolutely no stage presence and is almost impossible to shoot. He was one of these people who really needed to stand in front of a mirror and practice his heavy metal grimace- cuz his was a mess.. Every shot, all I could think was this guy is bozo, the clown... This was before the whole More Than Words phenomena, which honestly I never understood, it wasn't a good song.. I lasted the shoot, packed up and was out the door, no time for mingling with a crowd I couldn't respect for showing up and a band that I thought sucked. As I leave, I run into a guy friend and he says lets go grab some drinks and shoot the shit. A couple shots of Goldschläger, a couple beers and a couple rounds of pool later, my friend, says that he knows of a party and could we go stop by for just a second. I am buzzing, my mood is better, I'm game.. Maybe there will be some hot boys for me to grind on... We step onto the elevator of the Hilton, heading up and walk down the hall. I know I am buzzing but damn it is quiet down this hall for a party. Room 625 (yeah I remember) knock on the door, but it is already ajar. We go in, and low and behold who is sitting on the bed in just a towel- fucking Gary Cherone. I smirk and look over at my "friend/pimp" and ask, "Ummm soo is this a joke, or am I for him?" He sheepishly looks down, shuffling his feet, "Babe, he thought you were cute...." My buzz left me soo quick I think I saw the curtains flutter, I snorted, "Ohh hell mutherfucking NO!" and I spun around and left the room. That was the end of that friendship and I hope ol Gary jacked himself off to sleep.....

As a side note: When Van Halen took Gary on as their new lead singer I took my Van Halen autographed drum sticks, and pix and gave them to the local record store....

Will Tape Leave Marks?

2006-08-28T07:10:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I just can't shut up... Even when I know that I absolutely need to.. For reasons I can only chalk up to hormones and severe internal damage, I feel like I am suffering through one mini breakdown after another. I am soo frustrated with everything... I wonder, Do we loose our wits as we grow older or do we gain them? Do we become more confident or do we loose it? Do we have better perspective or is our perspective soo warped from varied past experiences we can no longer define it? Funny, I know where I have been, that is for certain. But as far as today, I am shakily holding on to the here and now. I don't venture into the future without a detailed plan. I need a magic backpack that outlines it all for me. I need Tom Cruise to tell me what to do. I need a psychic friend to give me a ring. But most of all I need a break. A break from myself and all the internal drama that I seem to cause myself. I push the people away that I love and I let total strangers in. Strangers that trigger all those ridiculous insecurities and all those moments of regret and question. Why do we beat ourselves up sooo badly???

Girls are Evil

2006-08-25T15:38:00.000-05:00

I don't trust girls...... I never have..........

Girls don't make friends in the true spirit of friendship, they make friends to fill a void, to play a role or for ulterior motives
Girls ask leading questions in their quest for information
Girls talk cattily behind your back.
Girls tell you that you look good to your face and then laugh behind your back.
Girls set you up to fail so that they feel better about themselves.
Girls lie
Girls cheat
Girls sleep with your boyfriend the day after you tell them how in love you are
Girls compete and view all other Girls as competition
Girls don't play by the rules
Girls are masters of the "dirty look"
Girls can be whores

Well ok not all girls............I have had the same best friend since the 5th grade. I trust her and love her dearly. She has seen me through the good and bad, the happy and sad and through the days of self pitty and the days of self indulgence. She listens to my rants and raves... I dragged her to many a concerts and many a bars. She picked me up from random hotels and dealt with all my drama. She was the only one at my wedding and the first to visit after the birth of my children. She saved me after my divorce and shares in my excitement of new love and new adventures.

I am soo glad I am not a girl anymore....

I am soo glad, I have moved past all the bullshit and grew up (a little......)

Ways to Avoid Having Sex With Assholes- part 4

2006-08-23T08:05:00.000-05:00

Don't throw your bra onstage and expect to get it back...

disclaimer- this is a cautionary tale- I caved, I just couldn't resist...

It was the Dangerous Toys and Junkyard at Big Surf, in Phoenix. I already knew the boys from Junkyard from a SW flight to Los Angeles (umm, that is another story...) so I was hanging with them before the show. A little flirting here and there and a whole lotta of beer. The show starts, and I am down on the floor in the front... So, I guess it did not help that I was beyond wasted, it did not help that I was already wearing very little clothing and it did not help that I was lifted on some meathead's shoulders and taunted to flash my tits. I got some pretty tits, so in my drunken state, I figure ahhh what the fuck. I don't remember throwing my bra on stage but I guess I did. What a lame move, not my usual style- I don't usually do the whole tit flashing bit (soo Girls Gone Wild- cheese) and this was a pretty bra (la perla, aint cheap...), All I was wearing was a sheer black shirt, and a miniskirt- so no bra, meant a bit of uncomfortable arm crossing on my part. After the show, I ran into Pat, the drummer of Junkyard and I asked if there was anyway to get my bra back- he laughed and grabs my arm and says, "c'mon babe, lets go" so backstage I went. I walked up to Jason McMaster, singer for Dangerous Toys and told him I would be needing my bra back... He started laughing and asked if I was serious. "Ummm, yeah I kinda need it," I responded. He gave me the whole once over and with the evil smirk he had on his face, I was smitten (he is not the hottest boy in the world but confidence and cockiness is a lethal mix....) He told me, "Well honey it is gonna cost you.." With a knowing raised eyebrow, I said in my best bad girl voice, "ohh, yeah, what's it gonna cost" Long story short, I lost all my clothes and went home the next morning in a concert t-shirt and a pair of sweats I swiped from his suitcase. I never got the bra back.... I got a few calls from him over the next year, he was an asshole for sure but I couldn't resist that evil little charm.........

Moral of the story: topless chicks get fucked........ (take that however you want)

Fuck, I Have Been Tagged....

2006-08-20T18:23:00.000-05:00

Please Excuse The Interruption in our Regularly Scheduled Programming
There is a very evil and naughty Cheaty Monkey out there deserves a big time spanking for this tagging.. Don't worry folks, she shall be punished.........

4 Job's I've Had:
Supervillian
Mop Girl at Porn store
Photographer
Go Go Dancer

4 Movies I would watch over and over-
Lethal Affairs (Brutal hot scene -Janine and Chasey Lain-OMG....)
Latex (Hot set of vingettes that will stay in your head forever.....)
Cat People
Fast Times at Ridgemont High

4 Places I Have Lived-
San Bernadino, California
Nashville, TN
Phoenix, AZ
Altanta, GA

4 TV Shows I Watch
My Name is Earl
The Office
Laguna Beach (shut-up, I love it)
Law and Order SVU

4 Places I Have Been on Vacation
Copenhagen
Paris
Olympic National Park, Oregon
San Diego

4 Websites I Visit Daily
All My Blogger whores
Google News
Email
CNN

4 Fave Foods
Ambrosia (I am the only one who eats this shit at the company potlucks, but I love it)
Bagels
Diet Coke (I live on this shit)
Edam Cheese

4 Places I Would Like to be Right Now
In bed with a hot boy
Taking a long hot bath with a hot boy
Traveling through Europe with a hot boy
Sitting on the beach in San Diego with a hot boy

4 People I Tag
Michael Rappaport
Giovanni Ribisi
Benicio Del Torro
Rachel Ray

Word to the wise- I hate being tagged....
I will not play this game again...

Ladies Be Warned....

2006-08-18T15:46:00.000-05:00

Men fit into several categories:

Men I admire and respect
Men I want to fuck
Men that I have yet to meet but want to fuck
Men that are just friends
Men that I have fucked and I wouldn't mind fucking again
Men that are assholes

Here is my day and the men I met:

Asshole #1- The fuckwad sitting in the back of the pick-up truck full of trash.
I am the red light, minding my own business, dancing a bit to the radio, when I notice this ass sitting in the back of the pick up in front of me trying to make eye contact. I give them old, raised eyebrow, acknowlegement and in response he does the little V for victory symbol, flicking his tongue back and forth in between, as if to simulate a little oral action. What the fuck, I thought that was only reserved for Poison concerts??? I take my lit cigarette, roll down my window and flick it in the back of the pick up truck which was full of wood, bags of dead leaves, and what looked like barrels of gasoline or oil. As the Home Depot bag of leaves starts to ignite, I take my left turn and wave. The fucker is panicking trying to put the fire out, ohh well I can't be bothered I am on my way to the gym.

Asshole #2- The Sweaty Pervy Bastard at the Gym
At the gym working the ol treadmill, watching a little Laguna Beach cutie pies and I see out of the corner of my eye, one of those type of guys approaching. By one of those types I mean, headband, tight tank and some way too short running shorts. He huffs a little hello, and jumps on the machine next to me. He is breathing heavy in about 20 seconds and sweating up a storm. He keeps looking over trying to start a little convo, but hell, I can't be bothered, I just bought a March Jacobs dress that is a size too small and I got goals man. I am pretty happy with my headphones on, but I feel his eyes burning a hole in me. I turn and the sweaty bastard is totally fixated on my chest. Ok, I forgot the sports bra today and I got the girls stuffed in a demi, so I know they are bobbin pretty but c'mon take a peak and move on. I ignore him, getting more engrossed in my show, but next commercial break I look over and his eyes are on the girls like he has never seen a tit in his life. I bend down, and give a quick hello, he smiles and turns away with a bit of a blush. Two seconds later he is at it again, it eventually broke me, and I made the choice time to go.. I stop my machine, and reach over and slam the red emergency stop button on his sending him to a giant face plant on the floor. Fucker.... I step over him and off to get my nails done...

Asshole #3- The touchy feely Lesi at the BP. (not a man, but close enough)
Every time I go in to pay for gas, and feed the addiction I get greeted by the same butchy bugged eyed lesbian. I like girls, I like hot girls, I think I might even consider a little girly action if the payoff was good enough. But I hate this thing. She always tried to stroke my hand when she gives me change, it makes me cringe. Today as she hand-raped my palm, I slapped her. I just got a bit carried away I suppose, but I halled off and slapped her chubby rudy face. Not hard to enough to carry an assault charge but hard enough I will have to find a new place to get gas. Fuck an A, that one was soo convient to.

That was my day... just a bunch of assholes.... where are all the good men? (or hot girls??)
Are you wondering what category you fit into???

Truth Be Known

2006-08-16T15:22:00.000-05:00

I am not a sock monkey

Uncomplicated Wanker

2006-08-15T15:17:00.000-05:00

After a recent purchase gone array, I began to think. I am a pretty simple girl. I don't need all the bells and whistles and that little vibrating rabbit will probably never get used. I don't care if it is electric or battery operated. I don't care if it resembles my favorite flower or a cute little forest creature. I don't care if comes in hot pink or silver or if it rotates and spins. I don't care who is on the box or if it comes with a bonus. For me, the solo act is rarely about the ecstasy and more often about the release. I have my handful of tricks, my handful of thoughts and for the most part they work for me everytime. If I throw something new into the loop I become distracted and my focus is thrown. I'm a busy girl, I have a couple of minutes at best. No time for stupid shit to slow me down.

I am a pretty simple girl, I like things to work. I like friends who are fun. I like boys who are hot, wearing towels and little straw hats, I like short commutes, I like 30 minute shows that make me laugh. I like taking the stairs, I like happy songs by silly groups, I like the dangerous rides at the state fair, I like long hot showers and the smell of nice perfume. I like what I like, I guess I just do. I just need it to fit into what I want it to do....

I know all the gadgets and toys are supposed to help us speed up our lives and make things easier. But I don't use the Magic Chopper because I have a nice set of knives that work just fine and I don't play with George Foreman because I like the charcoal and smoke of my old fashioned grill. I like all the fancy packaging of all the new toys but I just can't seem to merge so easily into the fast lane...

Disclaimer:
I have no idea what this posting is supposed to be about, I just kinda ran with it, and stuck in a picture of a hot semi naked chick.... Cheers...

The Soundtracks of Our Lives

2006-08-14T17:04:00.000-05:00

On a recent field trip to the land of Tumuli, I left this comment:

Music is a companion, one to help you through times of loss, times of sadness and grief. It helps you struggle through confusion and helps you find your way when you are lost. Music adds that special glow when you are happy and adds the explanation mark when you are in love. To quote Dick Clark, "Music is the soundtrack of our lives." It is our soundtracks that make us unique....

mmmm, got me thinking, what would be on my soundtrack-

Subdivisions, Rush- growing up in middle class America- I always considered this my teenage angst song even before I was a teenager- "In the high school halls, In the shopping malls, Conform or be cast out..." I was the kid who constructed and wore trash bag dresses to school because Toto Coelo did it in a video- no one quite got me... I was a mess.

I Love it Loud, KISS- this was my big fuck you song. I was just a wee monkey but "Whiplash, heavy metal accident, Rock on, I wanna be president" totally spoke to me... I knew I could grow up bust some balls and be whatever the fuck I wanted to be.

Twist and Crawl and I Confess, The English Beat- When I was 9 months pregnant with my son, my husband announced he was leaving me for another woman. I think most women would have wanted to crawl into a hole and died, and trust me I did too for about 2 days. I turned to silly music that made me happy and that made me want to dance around in my undies. I played the Best of The English Beat over and over again and well, I got over it....

Clocks, Coldplay- I don't even know what this song is about but it always makes me think about being in love and that fabulous feeling of elation you get when love is new and your whole body tingles with excitement when you hear their voice. This song came out, around the time I allowed myself to take risks again and I fell head over heels in love. I felt like I was constantly running through a meadow, it was some really cheesy shit...

All I Want to Do, Sheryl Crow- I am not a fan, but this song always makes me feel like I am in La Jolla driving along the beach with the top down. We used to drive out to San Diego, leaving Phoenix at midnight so we can could catch the surfers hitting those first waves. We would sit there on the rocks, watching the cute boys, drinking over priced smoothies and soaking in the sunrise.

Cherry Pie, Warrant- I gotta say this song makes for a great song to strip to. I went through a whole phase were I wore my hair in pig tails and would wear little catholic school girl skirts. I played up the whole cherry popper thing, it was a good look for me.

Temptation, Heaven 17- Total fluff song, I like it because it is such a fun dance song. I have to dig out the old cassette once in a while just so I can embarrass myself and dance around my living room.

Born Slippy, Underworld- Trainspotting, I dragged all of my friends to go see it and no one I knew liked it but me. I think I have seen it 17 times, and that is not counting all the peeks while it is on cable. The movie that marked the beginning of my stalking of Johnny Lee Miller. That restraining order will never stop me....

Anyhoo, that is all I can think of right now..... I know there are more...
More later, Shroom Monkey the Metal Years....

Help Wanted

2006-08-13T07:48:00.000-05:00

Job Vacancy:
I am looking for a new toy... I have constructed a very nice cage for you in the garage, I think you should be quite comfortable. I would like you to dance for me and entertain me when I am bored... Uniforms are mandatory, please provide your own G string. I will pay you in dollar bills that I slap on your ass.

Men and Women welcome to apply...

I never paid attention in school

2006-08-06T21:04:00.000-05:00

I have learned that unfortunately men are necessary, I would go nuts without a little cock now and then. But all the drama, the heartache, the headaches and the bickering I could live without. Hard stuff: some you never get over, some you can't get away from fast enough, and some you just smother till they die. The nice ones, you screw over, the bad ones you love til they cheat or beat the crap out you, the smart ones you overlook and the hot ones you kneel down and worship, even though they are undeserving.

When it comes to relationships, sometimes it is hard to finally figure out what it is that you want. Then when you do, it feels like the moment has passed and it is too late. Sometimes you put your heart on the line and you scream it out anyways, as you wipe away the tears of regret. You can't change the past, you wouldn't if you could.

I have grown and I am ready for clarity and understanding. I want love and passion. I want inspiration and friendship. I want everything from him that I am willing to give. I want the rush of that first kiss that seems to last for days. I want his hand holding mine as we walk through the cold winter streets. I want the guy who makes me stop when it says walk just so I can kiss him again. I want to drink till I am dizzy and make love until dawn. I want to run my hands through his hair, my nails raking his back, pulling him into me so he can almost touch my soul. I want no more games and no more lies. I want him to want me. I want him to miss me. I want him to need me, I want him to love me.....

Men suck......

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes- part 3

2006-08-06T08:22:00.000-05:00

Just Mention They Suck!!
I met this band at the Mason Jar in Phoenix. It was right after Girl's School was rocking the ol Headbangers Ball on MTV and this little ugly group of mutherfuckers were rising up the charts. I was asked to do some promo shots and all I can say for that shoot- it is really hard to get good live shots of guys that are soo freakishly hideous. Anyways, after the show I am standing around talking it up, chugging a couple dozen beers. I feel a set of hands slide around my stomach and some hot breath on the back of my neck. The lead singer Dean Davidson, pressed his huge bee stung lips against my neck and whispers, "there you are.." I turn my head slowly and say, "Get the fuck off me, dude" His hands retract and he places them on my hips and spins me around. "Don't you know who I am?" I nod my head, "Duh, I just shot you guys, soo??" His little mangled face grimaces and he tells me, "We have sold over a million records." I laugh, "where, here in America?" "Fuck yes, in America" he shouts at me. "Fuck an A, this only proves my theory, Americans will fucking buy anything. Shit, your record is total crap" I respond still beer in hand, now with my hands on my hips in a defiant stance. He backs up, and calls me a "Bitch" and walks away.

What the fuck?? Just because you sell a million records here, there or anywhere, you don't have the right to put your lips on me and leave behind some sort of slime trail. My neck smelled after that and it took a lot of soap to wash away that memory. Dizzy you owe me $2.50 for the Neutrogena. Fucker....

I Wonder.....

2006-07-29T09:14:00.000-05:00

I was just over visiting super freak's blog and I was leaving a comment about my philosophy for life. I liked how it sounded:

Flash a little cleavage, show a little leg, smile a little wicked "I know you want me smile" and women the world is ours!!! Men you just be happy we let you live in it.

I wonder if I actually believe it?

I may not be the hottest girl in the room, but I will make you think I am. I know how to work it. I know how to flash the right glances and smile in just the right way to make you forget your own name. I giggle at your jokes and tell you how great you are. I stroke your ego, the same way I stroke your cock, building in intensity till you wonder how long you can possibly last. I own my sexuality and I wear it as an accessory or brandish it like a weapon as the situation calls for. I'm a smart woman, but putting out all that intelligence forth requires energy and I use all mine up at the gym becoming fabulous. Most men catch themselves daydreaming about my ample breasts, wondering how long it will take them to get me out of my bra. They steal glances as I cross my legs wondering how hot its gonna be when they actually are allowed to bury themselves deep inside of me. I know this and I use it to my advantage. I play coy yet confident. I listen with interest yet block out most of what you say. The only agenda is my own, and what I can get out of you. Nice things, you'll get them for me. Cool places, you'll take me.

Yeah, I don't think I buy it either.... I am such a nerd. I really do love all the little things- I love fun, I love silliness, I love to laugh. I love being in love and all those little unforgettable moments that happen. I love being a girl- I never aspired to be a bitch. Sorry guys....

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes part 2

2006-07-25T12:02:00.000-05:00

Bring Up Their Medical Condition

I was sitting at the bar, when Jani Lane slid in the seat next to me. He immediately put his freakishly white hand on my knee and told me, "Ohhh, you're soo cute." His hand began to climb up my leg edging up my mini skirt. I shuddered and looked at him and asked, "Do you have that hypertyroid condition like Barbara Bush, cuz your eyes really bug out, it's kinda creepy." His hand retreated and he got off his stool and walked away, looking like a wounded bird. Years later, I saw him on Celebrity Fit Club talking about how he battled that affliction for years.

Ohhh, I guess I hurt his feelings....

Ways to Avoid Having Sex with Assholes part 1

2006-07-25T06:15:00.000-05:00

Begin to Giggle and Walk Away

I met Axl Rose for the first time at the Rainbow Bar and Grill on Sunset Blvd. My friend and I were stopping in for lunch, we were about to sit down when we spotted him sitting alone in a booth. His body was slumped and he appeared to be very haggardly hung over. We approached him to say hello, as we walked over he peered out of one eye, and said "Jailbait, come sit over here and give me a hand." I watched him as he began to unbuttoned his pants and raised his arm to the top of the booth as if to beckon me in. I started giggling, and I couldn't stop, I walked away shaking my head. As I walked outside my friend came running after me, "Are you seriously leaving, what about Axl?" I couldn't even answer, I was laughing soo hard.

What about Axl, indeed...

I've Stood at the Threshold of Fame and Fortune

2006-07-21T11:45:00.000-05:00

but I have walked away many a times in fear that it will kill my spirit. I feared Hollywood would try to tame the beast within and make me wear really tacky evening gowns to Award Events. While riding my motorcycle across the desert of Arizona, I proclaimed, that no one will ever edit me, censor me or expect any postive changes from me! I screamed into the hot, biting, bug infested wind, "World, it's all about me! I am free!!!"

Well all that jazzmatazz never paid me a dime and neither does this but some crazy chick in Chicago thought I was interesting enough to interview. Check it out, here Yeah, I know, I know.... I laughed when she asked to- Shut Up!

Fuck you if you think I am selling out!!!!

Completely Unoriginal Post

2006-07-19T15:20:00.000-05:00

Short stories from my childhood- a very fucked up childhood

When I was growing up in Phoenix, summer rains bring out the toads which sit in the middle of the road to soak in the sun, which almost always get hit by cars, the rain stops and the heat hits, drying the smashed toads into little dried toad pancakes which in turn become killer frizbees.
Kids, It is good to be involved in outdoor sports.

I jumped off my roof when I was a kid after seeing Mary Poppins (damn her) I took out my cute little Holly Hobby umbrella, put on my Wonder Woman Underoos and wore my Grandma's apron (I needed a cape) and climbed up on the roof. I started singing a Spoon Full of Sugar and leaped off. Broke my arm and developed a fear of heights.
Kids, Don't try movie stunts at home.

I love, love, love all those great info-mercials with the spray on hair. I got some when I was a kid and sprayed my arms and legs -hoping to play freak show and charge admission- world's harryiest kid. It didn't work, I just looked brown- more like a giant turd. All the kids made fun of me.....
Kids, Don't buy shit off info-mericals - they usually don't work.

I used to go to the school dances and dance all by myself in front of the strobe light. Everyone thought I was a loser. I thought I was super sexy! Years later, when I was a feature dancer
I was raking in the money. Who's the looser now??
Parents, Teach your children more than how to dance seductively, if you want them to truly be successful in life and love.

I was often left at home with random babysitters. I developed a passion for cooking with Bisquick. I made everything you could make off the back of the box. Problem was, I was only 6 and wasn't supposed to be using the stove so my little brother and I would have to eat all the evidence. My family began to notice as we became increasingly obese. When grounded from the stove, I started using the crock pot, (I had an addiction...) it takes for fucking ever to make a pancake in that damn thing.
Parents, Hire quality babysitters or your kids may end up fat asses before they reach the age of ten.

When I was a pre-teen, I really wanted to impress this really cute boy who lived in my neighborhood. I watched as he and a group of friends walked past my front yard. I began swinging around a coke bottle that I had tied onto a wire. (why? I don't have a fuckin clue- why would that impress any guy?? what was I thinking?) I swung it faster and faster, but my plan backfired; I hit myself in the head, knocking myself unconscious, fracturing my skull and landing 15 stitches. Well needless to say I didn't get the guy and I earned a "retard" label that lasted well forever...
Girls, You don't have to work so hard to impress a guy, a majority of the time you end up looking desperate and foolish.

Thats all I got, today....

Strange Things About Me- You Would Never Know Unless I Told You- #4

2006-07-14T18:42:00.000-05:00

I Once Sexually Harassed a Coworker

Well this is a complicated story but one I always felt my name should be cleared of. So if anyone at the free clinic in Phoenix is reading- yeah this is about you, you uptight fuckers! I worked in a clinic helping ease the pain of all the poor degenerates who roam the hooker heavy streets of Van Buren, handing out little shots, some friendly words and a couple useless pamphlets all to help ease the burning. Anyways, although I enjoyed doing my little part in making the world a better place, I also enjoyed paying my bills so had to take a second job. The Circle K didn't pay shit, so I went to the Castle, the Porn Castle of Love and I made a shit load of extra dough shrink wrapping dirty magazines, arranging dildo displays and having vibrator races across the counter. It was a great job, I slept on sundays behind the counter and got all the free rentals I could want, plus a 50% discount! Needless to say, I became quite the little shut in for a few weeks. Anyways, my bestest boyfriend came to work with me at the free clinic and he and I would hide away lunch hours talking shit. His boyfriend was such a hottie and I had the biggest crush on him. One day, behind the closed door of my office I jokingly told his boyfriend that I wanted to fuck him up the ass with my strap-on (disclaimer- I do not own a strap-on, I just think they are pretty) and show him how it is really done. I was joking, I really was- I am a sick monkey, but I have no desire to plug any man with a big hunk of rubber. I just don't... But some old bitch walking past my office overheard it and ran to management. I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I am crude about 90% of the time- why was this one thing that I said behind a closed door, while on my lunch break the newest and biggest controversy. No tolerance policies suck ass. Well the incident got me a fat slap on the wrist and a push towards the door. Sad was I, and I ended up leaving after a couple of months and went full time at the Castle. At least there was a large selection of fuckable options at the porn store. Ok, not really, but I still got the 50% discount, I made twice the money, I got to make out with Chasey Lain and I kinda outted Rob Halford when he rented Young Thai Boys. All in all- it was a good trade.

Moral of the Story- Words like ass, fuck and strap-on are all considered offensive in the workplace. Who knew??? Lesson learned....

Men and the Shit they Believe

2006-07-11T14:02:00.000-05:00

If I could take back any lies that I have ever told it would be the following statement;
"You're the best I have ever had."

A statement that we really shouldn't make ever, even if your lover rocks your world to the core. I have haphazardly thrown that line out a few times, and man o man does it always come back to bite me in the ass. (and not in a good way!) They all think that statement entitles them to free bootie calls for life. I'd rather pull my own teeth than endure bad sex! My ex husband must have a radar that lets him know when I have met someone because like clockwork I get the, "I want you phone call" A phone call that used to throw me in a tailspin but alas I have truly moved on. I moved on like two years ago but a certain someone has recently sealed the deal. Anyways, the call came the other day, it went a little something like this:

Him- mmmm, babe I want you soo bad
Me- umm whatever, did you send the child support?
Him-You don't want me?
Me- no, seriously why are you calling me?
Him- cuz I was thinking of coming up to visit.
Me- gas is to expensive, save your money.
Him- you know it was good, you don't want this dick?
Me- Ohh God, no (laughing)
Him- if you close your eyes, can't you feel my lips on your neck, running them down your body, pleasuring you. Can't you feel this dick?
Me- nope.... Listen, I am watching Friends is there a point to this story?
Him-You said I was the best you ever had, we really never had any problems in that area. You know if I was there we would be fucking.
Me- ok hold the phone, no we wouldn't- You were never the best I ever had, not even close, I lied! You were a lousy kisser and that is where it all starts. You mouth was cold and tasted like cow shit, and if I didn't enjoy kissing you, why do you think I enjoyed anything else your nasty little mouth did. And speaking of dick- give me a break ok? Don't make me hurt your feelings.
Him-ohh yeah, thanks a lot- (click, the phone slams)

Why the fuck do we ever say those words? To feed their precious egos? Why do they ask us, "was it good for you?" Sorta puts you in an awkward situation. I have had a few men that have rocked me Amadeus but I never had to tell them, actions spoke louder than words. But for the handful who truly needed some schooling- I told them that? I must have been retarded.

Moral of the story:
Never tell a man he was the best, especially if he wasn't.
Never sleep with my ex husband you'll be disappointed

Strange Things About Me- You Would Never Know Unless I Told You- # 3

2006-07-08T10:06:00.000-05:00

I Flunked Drama Class
Right, how does anyone flunk drama? Yeah, I know, I suppose if you show up and at least try to act you should at least get a C. Even if you suck ass in a major way. So how did I flunk, well it wasn't for a lack of acting ability I am just about the most dramatic person you would ever meet so it wasn't that. I went to class all shiny and excited so it has nothing to do with attendance. I did however have an old crotchety professor who truly did not acknowledge my artistic genius. In my efforts to be innovative and different I may have freaked out most of the class. Just a little.... It may have started when I wrote a screenplay for a scene I wanted to do about the birth of the Elephant Man. In theory it should have been really cool but I suppose the birth cannel that I built complete with thinned out jello afterbirth and the nude colored body stocking that I wore was taking it a bit far. But the look on the teacher's and class's face was priceless. Maybe it was the pantomime that I did to Mettallica's Orion. I acted out a heroin overdose complete with seizures and me vomiting all over the stage. Which resulting in half the class walking out in disgust and fear. I don't know, I really felt like I was challenging myself as an actress. All my life I wanted to make it as a serious soap opera star, and with that big fat F, I felt defeated. So fuck you Mr. Theodore at Glendale Community College. Fuck you- for squashing my dreams and making me doubt my talent.

The Epitome of Beauty

2006-07-05T11:49:00.000-05:00

What funny creatures we women are. We never look in the mirror and smile, happy with who we are and happy with the way we look. There is always something wrong or missing or too big or too small or just not right. Growing up I always had women that I considered to be the epitamy of beauty. Women like Nastassja Kinski, Phoebe Cates, and Catherine Zeta-Jones. I compared my features, my body, my life and measured my value based on ideals that could never be me. I killed myself mentally and physically trying to be someone I wasn't. Well, this decade I finally told myself, I wouldn't stand in the mirror and tear myself apart. That I wouldn't wish so hard to be someone else. That I would be happy with me. But I still do the same thing- I wonder if we all do. I don't hate myself.. I like my sense of independance, my love of fun and silliness, my strength, my intelligence and my compassion for others. I like my smile and my eyes, but I can't truly say that I like everything. I can't say that I am not at times disappointed when I try on clothes, or sometimes when I look in the mirror. I can't say that I don't sometimes say Fuck it, and pull my hair in a ponytail and throw on an old T-shirt. But I do overall like myself and I have learned to adjust. I can only be the best version of me and that should be enough.

I watched as my athletic beautiful eight year old daughter stood in the mirror, turned from side to side and say, "I need to go on a diet."

It made me want to cry..........

Things That I Want in the Future

2006-07-03T22:07:00.000-05:00

*For my daughters to have a high self esteem and to truly know their value
*For my sons to be respectful and caring individuals
*To find love and know that it will last
*To be the next video vixen in a Nick Lachey video
*A black Trans-Am like in Smokey and the Bandit
*To travel the world
*To finally organize my thoughts and notes enough to write that book I keep telling everyone I am going to write
*For that book to be hugely successful and made into a movie
*For me to star in that movie and become a huge movie star and hang out with other movie stars
*To find happiness and fullfillment
*To begin to trust and let other people into my life
*To stop dwelling on the past and move on with the future
*To go to the beach and look smokin in that bikini that has been in my dresser for the past 3 years
*To party at the Playboy Mansion with Carmen Electra
*To figure out the HTML stuff so I can have a kick ass blog
*To own a real Jasper Johns painting, not just a copy of the poster
*To dance on the jetty (whatever that means)
*To stop being afraid of what other people think (nevermind, who am I kidding...)
*To rid my house of cockroaches once and for all
*To never again mix the reds with the whites
*To have a reunited English Beat play my next birthday party
*To grow old gracefully and stay somewhat good looking
*To enjoy every second with my children, while they are still children and actually like me
*To move the hell out of Atlanta
*To have Jenna Jameson give me a lap dance
*To have Jared Leto, Johnny Lee Miller or Ewan Mcgregor (in his Jedi costume) give me a lap dance.
*To win the Lottery
*To excile my ex's to a deserted island so they can battle it out and show it on pay per view
*To be honored at Oprah's Legends Ball- just so I can streak through the crowd and make a total fool of myself
*To be given the open position on The View- so I can kick Rosie's horrible ass
*To have Santino design my fall wardrobe
*To run and skip through a meadow and frolic with Puff the Magic Dragon
*To have Air Supply play at my next wedding or in the event that I sadly never get married again at my next large event
*To make friends with Angelina Jolie so I get all the dirt and leak it to the press
*To learn how to snowboard (again, I sucked ass the first time I tried to learn)
*To get a minature horse and a leopard
*To dance and make out with Justin Timberlake (he's kinda cute for a youngin)
*To have my own fashion line and designer hand bags
* Yeah and all that stuff about stopping world hunger, seeing world peace happen and finding a cure for AIDS....

Speaking of MySpace

2006-07-02T12:47:00.000-05:00

Just the day after I was finished bitching about Myspace, I received an interesting Myspace friend request. I received a request from the guy I lost my virginity to. To flash back many a many a years: Loosing my virginity was nothing more than a mission to me, had to be the right guy. I wasn't looking for love or happily ever after- I was looking for the perfect Metal Rocker. I had the total full on crush on one of the members of Pretty Boy Floyd. (No, I will not tell you which one...) I was such a little slut rocker chick back then, my friends and I traveled back and forth to Los Angeles, partying on the Sunset Strip with our best pouty look, fringed suede jacket, tight jeans, ripped concert T's and stripper boots. A few shots of Jack, the perfect positioning on the Strip and the next thing you know I'm playing strip poker with the band. I was 16 and I never wanted my first time to be with some random High School loser, I traded up for a beautiful drunken moment on the bathroom floor in some random apartment in Burbank. But, I landed the guy I had always wanted. We ran into each other a handful of times after that, and had other beautiful drunken moments in bathrooms of bars and cheap hotels. I have not seen him or spoken to him since I was about 19.

Then I got the silly little "friend request." I know he did not search me out, for I doubt he even remembered my name. But I clicked approve and dropped him a quick email. I thanked him for the memories and for popping my cherry. I got a email back the next day stating that "he never knew that was my first time", "wow, that was a crazy time," "you look great" and "hey, we should keep in touch." I called up one of my old school girlfriends and told her the news. She was like "Ohh My God are you gonna keep in touch?"

My response' "Uhhh No way-look at them! They look like fucking freaks. What the fuck was I thinking back then!"

Soo not my thing anymore. Funny how we change......