Thursday, June 25, 2009

Sixteenth & 1/2 Tuesday - Stupid Things Edition

June 25, 2009

I say stupid things. Remember the movie with the kid who says, I see dead people? Well I say stupid things. My statement has more gravity because its real life. You would think that a blogger, a lover of words and expressions, would be better at speaking. I can speak just fine, I can express myself eloquently, but in all honesty I say really stupid things. Perhaps I say too much. I truly think that might be the rub. I just can’t say something and let the chips fall where they may, I say millions of things, spewing chips and debris and chaos in my wake. Hurricane Stupid, that’s me. I start saying things and somewhere deep inside of me, maybe I am saying no, let this go, but my mouth keeps going. This mouth is getting me nowhere. I think I blog better. At least when I blog its my own silent exercise, and with proofreading I can just catch the wtfs.

I don’t know what to do. I really don’t. I don’t know if this blog is going to be the final nail in my coffin. I’m here; I’m wide awake, yet mentally exhausted. I’m here to blog because at a time like this, when I have nothing but my thoughts, I need some sort of communication. I need some feedback. This is my method of serving that purpose. There is no one to hear me, and any way, since hearing me put me in this ish, I think I ought to stay to myself.

You see, I can’t really determine who reads my blogs. Nor can someone leave any comment that someone else other than me would see. If you ever comment, I will receive an email encouraging me to read your response, then I have the choice of hitching or ditching. That is what makes this a good method to hash things out.

I’m alone, naturally. There is no warm body for me to lean on. I’m about to say something stupid: spoiler alert: spoiler alert: I’m well aware that it is the eve of the deaths of Farrah and Michael. I hope they rest in peace. Honestly, no matter their stardom, at the end of the day we are all just flesh and blood.

Man I am getting really sleepy. There is only one person that I want to speak to now. One person who can kiss me and tuck me in. One person who is my beginning and my end.

What to do, what to do….I was just about to tangent into a story that is really unrelated. I’m really too tired. I don’t think I am going to sleep well, but I have to close my eyes.

I apologize to anyone that I've ever said too much too. Trust me, it is not my intention. I have to learn how to check my own shit.

You get me.
That’s why I love you.


Monday, June 22, 2009

Sixteenth Tuesday Recycle-A-Blog

Dear Readers,

This blog was previously penned in 2007. I enjoyed writing it then, and I hope you enjoy reading it now. I am getting ready for my awesome family vacation and uber busy at work and at home. Save a byte, spare a blog - Recycle! In case you are wondering, my tooth has been restored from ChickenGate and my glass chicken is on the shelf.

You get me, that's why I love you.



So, I am reflecting on yesterday. I guess I am stuck on your offer of “hard love”. Although I don’t think it can be considered an offer, since it was more a declaration. You said you were going to “love me hard”. This caused me to consider the word hard and its uses. Hard candy lasts a long time and can be tasty depending on the preference. If your hard love is similar to hard candy, then yes, I want it. I want us to last a long time and I love the taste of you. On the other hand, you can choke on hard candy-like a jawbreaker (which I am terribly afraid of, I don’t think I have sucked on one long enough for fear of the potential choking hazard). I don’t feel like choking. The hard palate is a thin horizontal bony plate of the skull, located in the roof of the mouth. It spans the arch formed by the upper teeth. Basically it works with the tongue to form necessary speech sounds. It also protects the teeth. I simply cannot be anymore random-Wikipedia will be the end of me. If your hard love is similar to the hard palate, then yes, I want it. With you, I am inspired to express myself with words; I am encouraged to discover new ways to describe you and understand the you/me/us. As far as protecting the teeth, well, you know my stance on teeth. However, the thought of protection is rather comforting-whether it be teeth or not. I would like to think that teeth don’t need so much protection but after the chicken leg incident, I beg to differ. I have my own thoughts, not influenced by Wikipedia or long ago piƱatas or the chicken-shaped glass candy bowl. I’m so excited. I took a moment to Google the candy bowl and I actually found it. Now a moment of silence for a huge part of my childhood. ____________ Well. That was awesometastic. Now I guess I have to buy that chicken bowl. If in your pursuit of loving me, you come across that chicken bowl…I will be so in debt to you. I have not tangented off the subject at hand. I really have not. This is a brainstorm, a thought process and it would behoove me to allow every thought here to be heard if not at least recognized. I say this all to say; if you mean that you would like to share a good, no, awesome meal with me; then I cannot say no to such an offer-does that fall under hard love? If it means that you rather nothing more than to wake up under the same roof-but not necessarily the same bed-than that sounds promising. I have been accused of late night crazy leg-and I would not want to subject you to such.

I mean, I guess if thoroughly tired out, my crazy legs would behave…you know, I don’t think you would consent to different beds, I mean it worked for Lucy and Ricardo, at least on television. Did you ever read anything on their real life? Typical booze induced violence and infidelity, but this is not about the conception of Little Ricky-more the conception of Joaquin. I wish there was enough time in life to personally tell you all of this and more. However the moment comes sporadically at best. If I called you every time I had a thought, you would start forwarding calls to voicemail. I doubt you want to hear any of my random thoughts at any random hour. Or do you? Do you actually enjoy my rambling? Remember the night when I cracked myself up at the thought of living on a block between two corners, Turkey and Loser? I think it was 181st Street between Turkey and Loser. I don’t know where my fixation on poultry comes from-but it must have some deep rooted ties to poverty. Chicken is cheap. Is that why chicks express themselves with cheep-cheep? I am so sorry if this is taking up so much of your time. I think its best I get this out when I can-so that when I am in your presence, we can talk work, politics, religion and live bands. I know live bands don’t necessarily fit there, but who really needs a fit? Not me. I think I fit you though. I think you fit me as well. We change though, like amoebas. You know amoebas…geek like me…single celled organism. I just had a random memory of a presentation that I gave in 6th grade. I kept saying “orgasm” instead of “organism”. I can tell you, Sr. Katherine was not pleased. Neither was I, only I was more dismayed at lunch when a well-versed 7th grader explained my mistake. Anyway, back to us, this is not about stuffy Sr. Katherine or an oversexed (at least in his mind) 7th grader. Amoebas change yet still stay the same. I don’t know that for a fact and Wikipedia is not the best source of scientific information…and despite the whole “look it up dear” promotion of Encyclopedia Britannica, my set was never completed. My cousin just abused his set and I inherited the odd and ends. So, I guess I accept your proposal if we stick to the rules and do it like the amoebas. Ever changing, yet ever the same.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Fifteenth Tuesday

June 15, 2009

Hello Readers,

I don’t know what Tuesday this should be, especially since its Monday. I’m sorry I am out of whack (someone just told me that, that I am out of whack) and out of touch. The internet is down today so I am actually blogging in GASP Microsoft Word! It’s shocking to me, too; don’t feel bad. I missed last Tuesday which I am sure is a huge shock to you all. How have you been? It’s a soggy June in NY….well there I go just giving out more information than necessary. At least I didn’t say it was extra soggy on bleep north and bleep avenue. Since I don’t have the benefit of my last blog to review, I don’t know what, if anything, we were supposed to discuss Tuesday, June 9th. I do recall telling you about my son’s birthday, which was a great time.

This past weekend, feels like ages ago, my Lovely & I took escape from the trappings of everyday life while we hid away in a still undisclosed location. It was fabulous. Thank you, Baby. The room was perfect. It was so relaxing from the minute I sat in the car on Friday, to the minute I slipped into my bed last night, the weekend was wonderful. We had dinner…the most amazing thing ever, WE SENT BACK OUR STEAKS…hell yeah we did! It may not sound like a big deal to you, but to us, that warrants celebration. Neither steak was to our request, so we sent them back and had the NERVE to keep our potato sides. The manager himself saw to it that our orders were correctly fulfilled and those steaks and BRAND NEW POTATO SIDES were fabulous. Lovely and I both agreed that we were officially living. Officially living brings to mind the book series that we are currently following, the True Blood books. True Blood is a vampire and more series on HBO. We heard about the show from a very, very, good, pregnant (yeehaa) friend, who we hold in high regard. Since Lovely and I don’t subscribe to HBO, we instead opted for the books. So far, so good…in fact, so good that I’ve ordered the DVDs from Netflix. I don’t have to explain why “officially living” makes me think of True Blood, do I? Seriously, Dear Readers, I give you enough credit.

You know what else I did on the vacation??? Yes, of course, but I am talking about things appropriate for this venue…I learned how to swim. Yes, I did. What do you mean you can’t believe I didn’t know how to swim in the first place, so what do I mean by saying I learned? I did not know how to swim and my Lovely taught me in about 30min. She is a genius, I swear to you. You still seem stuck on the idea of me not knowing how to swim. For your reference, here is a short list of things I do not know how to do…..

1. Drive
2. Bike
3. Pilot
4. Skate
5. Dance
6. Cartwheel

There are more things, but I’m not about to go into the pages and pages. I tell you though, my list of things I can do is longer. I plan on learning to drive this summer, and since I’ve been planning that for the last nine summers, this is it! I started to learn how to bike when I was a kid, but every time I attempted to turn a corner, the bike tipped, that can get real tired, real fast. If I didn’t grow so fast, I probably would have stayed on my red tricycle well into middle school. A VIP in my life requested that I learn how to fly a plane, and I would do anything for this wonderful, beautiful, smart, amusing, delightful VIP, but I think I’d need to drive first. How am I supposed to land a plane if I can’t work the runway? I skated a bit when I was younger at the now defunct Skate Key. It’s probably a Family Dollar now. I don’t remember if I enjoyed skating. I know that I enjoyed the chicken fingers (oink). Dancing is not something I am good at and pretty much is the reason behind the season of immobility for me. I think that people, who can dance, can do ANYTHING. I’m much better now, because my Lovely makes me feel like I can do ANYTHING, so with her in lead, it kinda works. Prior to her, it took more than a few shots of magic tequila for me to bust a move….one too many shots would cause me to bust my bleep, though. I have come a long way from the wallflower I used to be. I went from wallflower to barfly, now I can actually stand close to the dance floor, as long as I have something to do with my hands. You take that where ever you want. I don’t think I have to explain cartwheel. Obviously I can’t do that. I’m all limbs, it would not be pretty. I can probably strike cartwheel from my list, since who really cares if I cartwheel. Although, if I really learn to dance, than I guess I can cartwheel.

Cart wheeling reminds me of something else that has transpired since we last spoke. My hair is 7inches shorter. Yes I did! Snip, snip, CHOP! I needed a change. Honestly, I’ve only been keeping my hair long because it was a challenge. What was I trying to prove? My hair is uber curly and the longer it got, the wavier and the weirder. I love my hair, don’t get me wrong. However the length was really killing its real essence and that would be the curl. So now my hair is nice and short and just as big as before, except without all the length. I feel really good about my cut. People are asking what I use in my hair and really, it’s nothing special. It curls on its own. Short like this feels right to me. I roll out of bed and with a toss of my head, I’m good to go. It’s me, and like other me-isms lately, I am really finding myself. I am curly! Ba ba ba ba ba baaaaaaaaaaaa (a little Jackson 5 for you)!!

With my hair so short, it would be easy for me to cartwheel now, SHOULD I decide to learn. Before snip, snip, CHOP it would have been hazardous to everyone around me, including me. I know some Dear Reader out there was wondering why cartwheels make me think of my haircut. You can call me a lot of things, but one thing I am is thorough. Usually.

I have to let you go now, go forth and do good things. While you are at it, treat yourself to an undisclosed getaway and show yourself some love. Show yourself forgiveness and be easy with yourself. Trust me when I tell you, EVERYONE is going to judge you; EVERYONE is going to lay blame on you for something. If you can’t forgive yourself, who will? I can say that I forgive you, but your real forgiveness begins with you. So you jacked something up, oh well, fix it and forget it….go to a spa. We did. FABULOUS!!

You get me, that’s why I love you!

Lola Less Locks (Locks Less sounds too much like Loch Ness!)

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Fourteenth Tuesday 12th Birthday Dr"." Edition

Good Morning Readers!

How is everyone this beautiful Tuesday? Today's blog is in honor of My Son who is celebrating his 12th birthday today! I'm just as shocked as you are, and I've been witness to all his years of greatness. This morning I woke him up uber early so we could sneak out for breakfast at the diner. Children really know to feel a birthday. Typically when I wake him I have to call him about seventy-four times...with a few select threats and well placed jabs to his rickety ribs.

Today, all I did was whisper from the bathroom...the first thing out of his mouth was, "aaah its my birthday"...dude leapt out of bed like the next star of So You Think You Can Dance. I barely heard his feet hit the floor. He was dressed in record time. At the diner, he had Eggs Benedict for the first time and totally loved it. By the time you read this, Dear Readers, you have or will hear soon the loudest squeal ever from our modest block, because My Lovely and I GOT HIM THE PSP 300O AND THREE GAMES!!! He is doing so much better than me, I think I got an Etch A Scetch Animator for my 12th birthday, if it was even out by then. Maybe that's the year I got my first name brand sneakers, a pair of Ellese. Oh boy. I'm a mummy. If I ask my kids about either of those items, I will get crickets. Straight crickets.

I'm really looking forward to later. I asked the Grown 12yr Old what he would like for dinner....this mofo wants stuffed mushrooms. I blame myself. What 12yr old boy asks for stuffed mushrooms for dinner? Son of Foodie Extraodianaire...secretly I'm thrilled that he chose something so cool. I would have been heartbroken if he asked for a double cheese, extra pickles. So tonight that's what's for dinner. If I could, I'd have you over!

It feels so good to be A Mom. Granted, its the toughest job in the world, but I would not trade it for anything. I love, love, love my children. It is something else dealing with two me's, honestly I don't know how anyone can stomach the original cut....

Speaking of cuts...yesterday I went back to the dentist. When last we spoke dentalesque, I had a root canal. Yesterday I went back for the crown lengthening. Crown lengthening is when your tooth is so jacked up that the gums surrounding want to protect it from the world and they crowd around it...the procedure requires a dentist to peel and hack away at the gums to reveal precious good tooth. I can say peel and hack away, because I lived to tell. I knew I was in for it when the assistant gave me two super strength Tylenols BEFORE the procedure. She gave them to me with a knowing look that nearly made me bolt from the chair. The dentist numbed me with so many drugs that the procedure was at 5pm and I didn't feel my cheek fully until after 9pm. The numbing process stung a little, but the sound of the drill and the little hammer thingies was terrifying. She worked fast, at the time I thought she was worried about the drugs wearing off. I was shaking like a leaf in October. Just when I thought I could not deal with anything else, mind you, my eyes were screwed SHUT, damn sure I was not watching this...I feel the thread against my lip as she STITCHED AWAY....OMG....AT LEAST DURING MY LAST MAJOR STITCH PROCEDURE I HAD A BABY TO SHOW FOR IT....I was thinking OMG...before my imagination built a monsterous needle and blood drenched thread it was over. That's it. She started giving me after care instructions...I looked at my phone, the whole ordeal was under 30min. I lived through it. My wait in the reception room was longer than the whole thing.

Actually my wait at the pharmacy was longer. Thanks Jon and Kate for giving my something to read while I so blow Octomom out of the picture with all your drama...apparently Kate had Jon on a $5 a day allowance. Why don't I find that terrible? What more does a person need on a daily basis? I guess that's just coming from my poverty POV. I'm not saying she was justified giving a grown man an allowance, but whatever....

Dear Readers, this weekend I was a most pleased guest at a friend's graduation party. Congrats to you, Dear Friend. We are all proud of might as well be a dr"."! You Wendynistas, know that is DeeeeAaaarPeriod!

Dear Readers, and Dear Master Graduate, I must tell you how good it felt...during HER FABULOUS CELEBRATION, she leaned over and told me how much she loved my blog. Are you serious!? Here I was, with my BA crumbling in my file at home and this gorgeous, smart, strikingly interesting woman mentioned how she LOVED MY BLOG?

What a world.

Congrats to you again, Dr., and love to you Mister Twelve!

You get me, that's why I love you...