Monday, November 27, 2006

The Taste Of Vindication is like...candy

Dear Kid Rock and Pam Anderson,

I TOLD YOU SO. In July, for crap's sake.

Is all I'm saying.

Sincerely,
The same person who still thinks you're effed in the heads but still sort of likes you both anyways

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Wastin' away again...

...in margaritaville.
5:30pm
I'm deepintheheartof Margaritaville right now.
And I ain't alone...Jules is with me.


7:45pm
I crawled over toj thec omputer abecause we rannnnn out of margareita mixes snad now we are moving to appletini terictoryh ans MAN i'm so tired!
Julie drunk called Brian and Terri and I'M watching Criminal Minds so I can learn to plna the prefect crimesx.
is what all im saying.

On the road again....

Hey, guess where I am??
At JULIE'S!
Yes, here I am again, having just eaten the best Chinese food ever...and waiting until we get a little closer to cocktail hour before we start mixing up the apple-tinis and margaritas.

With any luck, there will be drunken blogging tonight.
So stay tuned--same bat time, same bat channel....


One of the disadvantages of living next door to your parents...

MOM: "So, I was outside the other day and I 'happened' to see in your living room window...
ME: "MMMMhhmmm, just happened to, okay..."
MOM: "Do have your Christmas decorations up already? Because I saw something with a snowman on it."
ME: "Yeah, that's still up from last year."

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Too bad they're not prophetic...

So I had this dream last night involving James Spader. Although it was more the Stargate James than the Boston Legal James...but either way, I wouldn't kick him out for eatin' crackers in bed.
Anyways.
We were on some private jet or something and we were talking about our scars (okay, that's weird), and then he took my hand & kissed it.
I'm not going to give you all the naughty details, but there was some...stuff going on. Not on the plane, though. Dammit. I wanted to be in the Mile High Club.
Next thing I know we're in love and the REASON I know is because he told me, as he was driving me to some girl-only party at a country club or something.
*dreamy sigh*
Get to the country club or whatever it was--bunch of skinny girls in scanty clothing dancing around everywhere and I realize that I'm wearing jeans and a jacket and I'm horribly underdressed. Figures.
Then one of my girlfriends gets kidnapped or something and it just got too weird and I woke up.
I totally tried to fall back asleep & back into the part of the dream with James, but it didn't happen.
But for a moment, he loved me.


Speaking of celebrities, did I ever mention that Jeremy Irons makes me tingly in all my secret places?
Because he does.


If you're having a problem with ants, it probably isn't smart to put on banana-flavored lip balm before you go to bed.
Is all I'm sayin'.


Have a day.
That is all.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

What's so golden about silence, anyway?

Thank you for the emails-I love you for caring. Love, love love.


There are a number of reasons for my absence--time management (or lack thereof) factoring largely into the equation.

But...
There are other things. This field has lain fallow and untended, for I have been at war within myself.
The things I have wanted to say have been the definition of ugly, and there are those who would feel as though I were targeting them. Perhaps I would have been.
I have sat meself down several times to try and post, but my thoughts get jumbled and tangled, sliding over each other like...you know the worms you get for fishing bait in the styrofoam container? Yeah, like that.

So I stayed away.
I was/am struggling, barely coping, smothering beneath the weight of my life. I was/am resentful of the haves who crow their good fortune to the sky. I've never been one to begrudge others having things, because I realize that the value of things is nil in the long run. But I was becoming that person, that bitter person...
So I stayed away.

Then my two old friends, Depression and Anxiety, noticed that my hands were full and my shoulders bowed with the everydailies of life and they decided to come calling, as I hadn't the strength to turn them away. And they knew it, as they always do.
Their silken, honeyed voices whisper in my ears, bind my heart. They work together to work against each other, Depression bringing me low whilst Anxiety tries to pump me up.

And then a regular boarder at the House Of Me, Insecurity (who normally keeps a fairly low but constant profile, stays mostly quiet and unassuming) decided that Depression and Anxiety were having so much fun that it would pop in and join the party. Insecurity even brought a party gift, Self-Doubt.

See, Insecurity noticed, kept records...
Over a two week period, I sent 5 emails that required information and/or questions that needed answers...none were answered.
I had done a project for someone, as they requested, and it didn't get used as it was supposed to be used. Allegedly that is corrected now, but I haven't seen any evidence of it yet.
Two people who had said, "Oh, I'm SO going to do this for you" (weeks and weeks ago)neglected, as usual, to follow through.
The number of comments here went down, down, down.
I was going to get a blog re-design, and the designer backed out.
I signed up for MixMania, pimped it out, and still got left out of the mix due to an oversight.
I work so hard on putting my radio show together every week, and yet hardly anyone was listening live or downloading it.

Silly things, all.
But just like my everydaily issues, they grew and they grew and loomed larger in my mind every day.

So Insecurity said, "SAY! This is my kind of shindig!" and brought some Self-Doubt with him to pass around.

See up there? the part about the comments going down?
Yeah.
See, that bothers me...it bothers me that I noticed it.
I don't check my stats. Maybe once every few months I might remember to look, but mostly I don't. I never knew who my 10,000th visitor was. Or 75,000th. Or whatever. I don't notice that sort of thing--for me the comments always been about YOU, in particular, sharing your words, your thoughts...not the numbers.

I LOATHE those whiny-ass posts that say "Oh dear I only got 18 comments yesterday instead of the normal 40 oh don't you love me anymooooooore?"
Pah. I always want to smack someone upside the head when I read those posts.
But I was in serious danger of becoming that person, because the stats began to matter to me. Blame Insecurity, it's totally his fault.
I was becoming obsessive about checking them, worrying when no one visited or commented, feeling more blue and unloved and...unnoticed.
I wanted-needed-acknowledgement. I needed to know that I mattered to you.
So Anxiety and Depression were dancing in the middle of the room, Insecurity was insidiously sliding around the edges, drifting, passing out Doubt, planting the seeds wherever he came to rest.

Add to that a healthy side dish of Guilt because I wasn't leaving comments for you, due to the aforementioned Time Management thingy.
And I turned away from a friend because they have become appalling to me-their practices and values are such that I cannot tolerate them without serious irritation.

I realize the flaw lies within me, but still, the Irritation is something I don't think I can stand at the moment, so I turn my back. I think of it as Self-Preservation.

I feel weak and cowardly, but I'm fighting it.


I really do love you for caring-thank you again for the lovely concerned emails.


One more thing...I've lost my sense of humor. Have you seen it? Should you run across it lying around somewhere, just drop it in the nearest mailbox and send it home to me, won't you? Because I'd like to smile.