What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

Someday soon and sooner than I want, my son will be grown up and going away to college or the military or will be a bum. Even though at 33 I am not old, my good child-bearing years are slipping away and the older Nate gets, the less likely I am to start all over again. I also have no viable prospects for a spouse and I don’t really feel like wasting away waiting on grandchildren I hope are slow in coming. So, what will I do when Nate leaves the nest? Well, here’s a few things I had in mind: 1. I could become a TEFL teacher, that is Teaching English as a Foreign Language. I always wanted to be a teacher and this would just encompass my love of travel and teaching all in one. > 2. I could finally sit down and finish those novels and screenplays I’ve been writing for the past year. Maybe I’ll finish one before then but it would be nice to be able to sit in the evenings and write... all night if I want. > 3. I could become a forensic anthropologist or a medical examiner. Although forensics is a hobby of mine, I wouldn’t mind at least taking some courses to see if its something I’d like to do as a second career. > 4. I could become a photo-journalist. As a child, I always wanted to work for Life magazine. The college I graduated from offers journalism classes and I thought of taking some night courses to get another degree. > 5. I could become a mountaineer, as in, giving guided tours in the Cascades and on Denali. I’m not much interested in risking my life on K2 or Everest but a life on the mountain wouldn’t be a bad thing. > Hey, maybe I can incorporate all of those things into one. I’ll move to Russia, right across the Bering Strait where I’ll teach English during the day, work in forensics during the summer, take a boat to Alaska every weekend and do tours and naturally, write, write, write and take photographs. LOL!!! .... damn, that doesn’t sound too bad. I wrote this last night and put in my other post instead but did spend time looking up my alma mater's class listings and realized by the classes and course descriptions that I could get away with a degree in Communications emphasis on photography and journalism in 58 hours, if they accept all my previous courses. Which they should, after all, I got them there! Some of the classes looked downright interesting like: Photography I and II, Advanced Photography, Animation Production, Broadcast Announcing, Scriptwriting for Film, Theatre Studies, Journalism and Copy Editing/Makeup. Some of the classes look to be a downright snoozefest, like: Regulations of American Broadcasting (more legalese shite), Introduction to Mass Communications (anything intro in college normally bores the hair off my arms) and I'm not too crazy about Television Production and Direction. I can do this with only 56 hours but I would only need Radio and Television Broadcasting to get the emphasis in Journalism to go along with the Photography. Why not? Only one small, itsy, bitsy problem... less than half of the classes I need are offered in the evening. None of the photography classes are offered. How horrible could that be???? My boss loves me, but I'm not sure he loves me that much. They also only offer 2 hour 45 minute classes, twice a week. Maybe he could handle an hour class three times a week but that's a lot of time to spend away from my desk and still expect to have a job. This all of course hinges on whether or not I get a big fat bonus in November or December. College courses are not in the budget. Its a little over $700 for 6 hours plus the ID card, parking and then books and of course, a camera and film etc., time off work, and a babysitter for Nate. Its simple. I get a big fat bonus to pay for my first three semesters. I ask for a camera of my choice for Christmas plus film etc. and nothing else. Nate's dad is underworked so he can take the child and as for the time off work, I'll work it out. In five years, I'll have another degree and Nate will be 13 years old. That is of course assuming I don't marry a much better off dude who will let me attend college full-time whilst spitting out another child or two. Yeah, fat chance. The best news is, with my already hefty college classes, I may qualify as a junior and get the better pickings of classes and times. Ahhh.. tis sweet to be older at times. Class of 2010, here I come!!

Well, Well, Well...

So, you guys know I've been sick. For a while, I had no idea what was wrong with me. I thought it was just a really bad cold. Naturally, I did not want to pass this ailment along to my nephews, their cousins, or my brand new niece so I diligently packaged up J2's birthday gift and Annie's birth gift (which included a swank pair of hand-knitted booties) and shipped them up to my brother and his bitch via my parents last weekend. For J2, I got him a card and got some cool Army stickers I'm sure he would love, as my brother is in the Army National Guard and slipped in ten bucks, which is about what I would have spent on a gift anyway. So, my brother and his bitch have been married six years. SIX YEARS! When I get their sweet, loving thank-you card in the mail, my name, my real name, the name that my brother has known me by for 33 years is spelled WRONG!! Furthermore, my loving brother, didn't even sign the fucking thank-you card. What's worse is... she spelled my name wrong on it TWICE!! Now, there are several variations of the spelling of my name. I assure you I have had the same spelling for 33 years, damn, almost 34!!! And definitely the entire time that my brother's bitch has been in my family. Now I, being a bitch, and not just a bitch, but THE BITCH, have contemplated how to right this error. Perhaps I could conveniently write her a letter letting her know that no thanks is necessary and then proceed to spell all of their names wrong as I inquire as to the state of their union as either they are dI-vorcing or she has finally sapped what little strength my brother had left in his balls since he was either not present nor had the strength to sign the damn card nor the balls or brains to correct her spelling. Perhaps to some this is not such a big thing. To me, its just another pitiful show as to how meaningless I am to them. It might be "just a name" but by God and Goddess, its my name. If I can remember how to spell AZ's long ass Polish name, surely she could remember something so simple as I-N-A-N-N-A. I'm surprised she got my last name right. Maybe I'll address the letter to my brother instead... something along the lines of Big "Little Bitch" Brother... and put her maiden name on the end. Bad things are sure to follow... bwhahahahahahahahaha.

Marvin

Marvin was a guy I went to school with. He and I met in 3rd grade after our schools were consolidated. Marvin was a short thin guy who would always remain short and thin. The last time I saw him he might have been 1/2 an inch taller than me and I'm 5'3" 1/2. From the moment we started school together we were always stuck in the same class. We were TAG kids. TAG being Talented and Gifted. Marvin was in regular TAG and I was in Science and Math TAG, having missed regular TAG by one point. It was a joke more than anything. Marvin always bitched that the TAG teacher should at least be as smart as the kids their trying to teach. He had little patience for idiocy. Marvin and I competed in everything. Sometimes we competed against each other and sometimes we TAG kids would gang up against a teacher. Marvin and I both played trumpet in the band and naturally we had to share the solo since we competed so hard against each other, we were both worthy of the position. I'll not forget the time during marching band that we continued to play and march even as the band director started yelling at us to stop. Marvin and I both turned with disgusted looks on our faces because we had both been playing and marching well. Turns out one of the majorettes had collapsed from heat exhaustion. Marvin looked at me and said, "why the hell did he stop us for? We don't need her? She needs us!" That was just his attitude. Marvin's family was very poor. I can remember his jeans being three inches too short and patched. Unfortunately his brother, who was also in the band with us, was a lot bigger guy so I guess Marvin getting hand-me-downs was out of the question. If I could pick one word to describe Marvin, I would say... ambitious. He always had ambition. He always wanted to be better. He never took his brains for granted, like I did. Whatever he wanted, he normally got because he was smart and he had drive to get it. A lot of times, he drug me right along with him. I can't say that I ever felt that Marvin really liked me but when it came down to it, I was one of the more "normal" TAG kids and he knew when he got me going I was a worthy opponent. I can't say that Marvin was smarter than I was, nor I smarter than him. We each had our strengths and our faults and they normally balanced out. He made me think a lot. Marvin always knew, I think, in the back of his mind, that college or military was the only way out of the coalfields. I knew he wouldn't join the military and I think he saw me as a barrier to scholarships and accolades that could propel him into college. I gave all that up when I went to Germany my senior year. I gave up Govenor's Honor Academy and few other things and a lot of chances for scholarships. I really didn't need them like he did. My family was prepared to send me to college and could afford it. Marvin and I did go to the same local college. He majored in Chemical Technology. Although our college was small, the science program was supported by the local chemical factories and was one of the best in the state. He worked as a co-op student at what was then Rhone Poulenc. He carried a 3.9 grade point average. I can tell you right now, that 10th of a point probably irritated the shit out of him. That's the way he was. As you've probably guessed, this story doesn't end so well. In April of 1993, a month before graduation, Marvin was coming home from work and, they believe, fell asleep at the wheel and hit a loaded coal truck head-on. Its one of those things that still makes me so angry I want to cry. He's one of five or six students from my class that have died since graduating from high school. His is the one that hurt me the worst. I've been to wakes and funerals for old people, babies, teenagers, young adults, and a murder victim. None of the people at those wakes and funerals had the impact on me that Marvin's family did. I have never seen a family more devastated than his. His wife was so drugged, they practically had to carry her in the church. His brother practically ran down the aisle of the church into my arms, sobbing about "our over-achiever." Marvin carried his family on his slim shoulders. Marvin's birthday is a week after mine. I think of him every year. I think about his son and wonder if he looks like Marvin. He did in his baby pictures but that was 11 years ago. I visit his grave when I go to the cemetary. My grandparents are buried the same place he is. Most of our classmates who have died, if not all, are also buried there. I'm not sure what brought Marvin to mind this morning. Sometimes he pops up in my mind and I relive some our funnier moments, when we could just be ourselves without trying to one up each other. I always revisit his death though. My mind still shouts, "NO! NO! Not Marvin, not Marvin. Not our over-achiever." Rhone Poulenc established a scholarship in his name. I'll never think its enough.

Some Fun Facts About Me and Mine

1. I only learned my German family's phone number in German. If I have to recite it in English it takes forever. It is 14 numbers long. > 2. I was in labor for 20 hours and pushed for an hour and a half when I had Nate. He weighed 8 lbs. 14 oz. I weighed 4 lbs. 15 oz. > 3. As a child, they discovered I did not have a permanent tooth under one of my baby teeth. My brother didn't either. We inherited this trait from my mother. > 4. I was born on the cusp of Scorpio and Sagittarius on 11/21. I have mostly Scorpio traits though. > 5. I was a month premature. My due date was Christmas. > 6. My birthday will never be on Thanksgiving. The closest it gets is the 22nd. > 7. There are four people in my office born in November. I am the only Scorpio. > 8. My German father, my German sister Claudia's second son, Justin, and Nate's dad are also Scorpios. > 9. Nate, Claudia and my other German sister, Marion, and Claudia's first son, Andrew, are Cancers. Nate and Andrew were born one year and one day apart. > 10. Both my real mom and my German mom are Libras. > 11. I was on the phone with my sister Claudia when I went into labor with Nate. > 12. My first real pet was a rabbit. Her name was Sheena. I got her when I was eight and she died when I was sixteen. She was a cross between a Rhode Island Red and a Logan Giant. She weighed 15 lbs. at her heaviest. > 13. I used to squirt my neighbor's white, cross-eyed cat with a waterhose when he tried to sneak over the fence to eat Sheena. > 14. I stepped on a black snake in our garden when I was five. > 15. I mowed grass for money as a kid. One time I hit a yellow jacket nest. My dad and I went up to my neighbor's property at sunset, poured gasoline in the hole and lit it on fire. > 16. One of my bedroom windows opened onto the roof and I used to climb out there in the winter and watch the stars even though I'm afraid of heights. > 17. I once climbed into a 30 foot tree stand with my ex-boyfriend. Once I got up there, I was frozen by fear and it took him climbing down behind me, or rather, over top of me for me to get out of it. The other hunters we talked to that evening all shook their heads and told me how much they hated that tree stand themselves. > 18. I have shot two deer, a buck and a doe. I have shot two squirrels. I have never shot at an animal and missed. I have never had to shoot an animal twice because I screwed up the first shot. I shot the buck through the spine and into his skull under the left ear as he turned to look at me and bunched up his hindquarters to jump at 75 yards in deep woods. I shot the doe through the heart at 15 yards. > 19. I shot the buck after jumping off the back of a four-wheeler. > 20. I shot the doe after hunting all day in windy, single digit temperatures. > 21. I technically missed the first shot with the doe because I hadn't reloaded the gun after coming back into the woods. The clip had not engaged and therefore I had no bullet in the chamber. The other deer ran and she was stupid enough to stand there while I loaded it properly, so she died and I ate her. > 22. I like hunting in the snow because it is beautiful. > 23. I don't kill a lot of deer because I can't sit still in the woods. I have to walk around a lot. And I like to track and take pictures. > 24. I only kill as much as I and my friends can eat. I give the squirrels to my parents because I can't stand the smell of squirrel cooking. > 25. I can cook deer meat so good, you would never know it was deer meat. > 26. Nate loves deer meat. > 27. I like to go on the river and fish at night for catfish. > 28. One night as we were fishing, they let the dam out and I broke three lines just getting away from the river. > 29. The most difficult trail I've ever hiked was Potato Knob Trail in Webster County, West Virginia. It is a 15 mile ball-breaker that my friend Joe and I did in 100 degree temperatures and 90% humidity over rocks, deadfall, brambles and along sheer cliffs. We rested at a natural waterfall and on the hike back, we had sex on the trail. Had we not, I never would have made it. > 30. Joe is a former Marine and said I did much better than all of the guys he trained with. Right up to the point where I developed heat exhaustion. I made it though. He said its the only time I've ever asked him to turn the radio down. I miss Joe. > 31. Sex with Joe on the trail was the hottest, stickiest, sweatiest sex I've ever had. Did I mention how much I miss him? > 32. I was the first person Joe ever rode a roller-coaster with. > 33. I'm going to Cedar Point, September 18th. I hope I run into Joe there. Damn those blackout dates. > 34. I speak sign language fluently. One of my best friends is deaf. Her brother-in-law is also deaf and legally blind. We speak to him using the Helen Keller method. > 35. She has been deaf since she was three so she speaks pretty good. She reads lips exceptionally well. She knows all the gossip because people tell her things and think she doesn't understand. > 36. She had a Cochlear implant but she only wears the hearing aid for special occasions. Most of the time she turns it off because the noise gives her a headache. > 37. I am hypoglycemic. If I don't eat, I get 10 feet tall, bullet-proof and bitchy. > 38. T-Bird brought me a chicken sandwhich, fries and a Diet Coke from Wendy's after I had Nate. I told her if she didn't I was going to kill someone. > 39. My favorite food while pregnant was crunchy peanut butter on whole wheat toast with strawberry jam and plain strawberries. I would sit at my desk at work and eat two quarts of strawberries. > 40. When I got pregnant with Nate, my waist was 29 inches. Two days before I had him, it was 56, now, its 32. I am the same weight now as I was when I got pregnant, 125. I don't think this is fair.

The State of the Union

I'm not sure what I mean by that. I use that phrase when I want to talk about my life. Otherwise, I don't belong to a union of any sort. Unless we bloggers would like to start one, like the Bloggers Union 69 or something. We could ask for better benefits or a raise, although it wouldn't do us much good. I don't have a significant other, so that sort of union is out of it too. Anyway, here's the state of my union. 1. I had a post ready earlier until Nate bumped the computer and erased it. Instead of attempting to recreate it, I took a four hour nap. Maybe it was five. I've been feeling rather shitty. > 2. When I take my antibiotics I get light-headed and woozy. I can't believe I'm catching a buzz from antibiotics. > 3. The side effects have kicked in full force. I am now scarfing yogurt. Luckily, I can fund breast cancer research while doing so. > 4. I don't understand why birth control pills do not work while on antibiotics. Oh, they still do, it just "decreases the effectiveness." Kinda like playing Russian Roulette. The only Russian Roulette I'd like to play is nude with Mikhail Baryishnikov. I know I didn't spell that right, but you get the picture. > 5. Since I started taking Lexapro, I have had the sugar munchies. Sugar and starch, starch and sugar. Normally, I gain a lot of weight when I eat too much of those things. Surprisingly, I haven't. I looked in the buggy at the store and realized I had bought nothing but pasta and sugar. I don't care. > 6. Between the antibiotics and all the sugar, I'm setting myself up for a raging yeast infection. (Sorry guys, know you all hate to hear about that stuff.) This is why I'm scarfing yogurt among other reasons. > 7. I think it a conspiracy among pharmaceutical and yogurt companies and washcloth manufacturers. After all, the best part of a yeast infection is having sex with a washcloth. > 8. I know, TMI. > 9. Probably the above companies are owned by a super-conglomerate. If you ask the Republicans... its owned by the Heinz Corporation. If you ask the Democrats... its owned by the Carlyle Group. Ask the average American and its owned by Martha Stewart. She probably received a call in the middle of the afternoon from her broker informing her I had a sinus infection and would be on antibiotics so she bought more stock. Damn insider trading. > 10. My box of Puffs has Sponge-Bob, Patrick and Squigward on it. This makes me happy. > 11. I think Puffs is in on the conspiracy too. > 12. While at the store I bought an emery board and new nail polish. I gave myself a manicure and painted my nails. They are now a very nice shade of Revlon Blackberry. > 13. They don't look good enough to eat nor do they resemble blackberries, more like blackberry juice, which isn't black at all. > 14. People tend to hate the fact that I have naturally straight, hard nails, with pink bases and white nails. People really hate me when I paint them and they ask where I got them done. I give them my home address and said it cost about $.10 considering how long the polish and emery board will last. > 15. Yes, I am shamelessly bragging. Just to make you feel better, my toenails don't look nearly as good. > 16. There are nine full-time employees at my law firm and one part-time. Six of those employees are female, on Monday, we lose a man and pick up another woman. She is the daughter of another employee. This will mean only the lawyers are male and all the support staff are female. (Diabolical laugh) > 17. I don't know why I told you that. It just seemed like the thing to say. > 18. I am eating Kraft Pasta Pronto Shells with Creamy Herb Sauce. I'm not going to eat it all. I'm saving some for you guys. > 19. Along with Snick and Michael, I believe peanut butter should be a food group. I think they're part of the conspiracy too. The peanut butter people, not Snick and Michael. > 20. I have very tough skin. Not the kind where ineffective put-downs bounce off me like rubber balls. The kind where I have to warn people who take my blood before the needle bounces off. When my cats try to jump on me they sometimes end up hanging from my skin. My skin on my legs is not nearly as tough. > 21. I do not swell up and itch from mosquito bites. Nate does. > 22. I swell up and itch from poison ivy. Nate does not. > 23. I thought of actually getting married the other night and got sick to my stomach. I'm assuming if I find the right guy, that feeling will go away. > 24. Maybe I just thought of the wrong guy to marry. > 25. I'm afraid my strong independent streak will keep me from being a good spouse. > 26. The next time some chica in the toilet at the club asks if I'm 5-0, I'm going to tell her yes, and if they don't stop doing drugs in the bathroom I'm going to bust them all. I will be standing very close to the door when I say that. > 27. Everytime I see sleazy guys hanging out in a drug zone I wonder if they are narcs. > 28. Nate was looking for my pink emery board in the drawer and found my vibrator. Very fuzzy dust bunnies hopped away when he pulled it out and I convinced him he didn't want to know what was inside the package that looked like a giant Lifesaver. > 29. I have never used a vibrator during sex but I would like to. 99.9% of the guys I've dated weren't kinky enough to try it. > 30. My ideal man would have to be adventurous in the bedroom. At least adventurous enough to not always do it in the bedroom. > That's the state of my union. There's more but my buzz is kicking in. Good night bloggers.

Sinus Infection = Horse Pills

I have a sinus infection. I know this because I have a lot of junk in my head that has nothing to do with my scrambled brains. It has not gotten better in a week. My left cheekbone and TM joint are so sore I feel like I've been slugged with a ballbat. Okay, maybe not that bad. I'm having trouble opening my mouth, which some folks are probably thankful for. They gave me a 10-day Augmentin XR pack. 1000 mg tablets, two tablets, twice a day. These pills are huge. They are 3/4 of an inch long and a little over 1/4 of an inch thick. I measured. I measured because I do stuff like that. Nanny cannot be naughty. Not that I had hopes of being naughty. This is how I got pregnant with Nate. Nanny was naughty too soon after antibiotics. I will not have sex for 60 days. Not with a condom. Not with foam. Not with gel. Vasectomy? Sorry. I have not been on antibiotics since I got pregnant with Nate. Whoever said lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot lied. It happens. All it takes is one + one. That's all. I feel like an airline. I now have blackout dates. October 25th is go date. Ironic -- I got pregnant with Nate in October. Nanny will not be naughty. Nanny will be a very, very good girl.

Triple Humor Post

Part I: A LITTLE DITTY I'm too sexy for my blog too sexy for my crogs Johnny, Jack, Daz I'm too sexy for my bra too sexy for the law too sexy to work this job. And I’m too sexy for my cats Too sexy for my brat Too sexy for my un-der-wear I am sexy like the Leese and sexy like the Fleece and sexy like the Va-der-grrrl WHAP! I'm too sexy for the Seek and he’s too sexy for the meek We’re too sexxx-y I’m too sexy for my coffee as sexy as the Slothy I’m too sexxx-y Part II - JUDGE SPARKS RULES!! This an actual Order written by The Honorable Sam Sparks, United States District Judge: (for the record, this is legal for me to place this here since this is an open case and is a matter of public record... I wish all judges were like Judge Sparks) I could not get this damn thing to look right... In The United States District Court For The Western District of Texas Austin Division KLEIN-BECKER, LLC, and BASIC RESEARCH, LLC, Plaintiffs, vs. Case No.: A-03-CA-871-SS WILLIAM STANLEY and BODYWORX.COM, INC., Defendants. ORDER BE IT REMEMBERED, on the 21st day of July, 2004 and the Court took time to make its daily review of the above-captioned case, and thereafter, enters the following: When the undersigned accepted the appointment from the President of the United States of the position now held, he was ready to face the daily practice of law in federal courts with presumably competent lawyers. No one warned the undersigned that in many instances his responsibility would be the same as a person who supervised kindergarten. Frankly, the undersigned would guess the lawyers in this case did not attend kindergarten as they never learned how to get along well with others. Notwithstanding the history of filings and antagonistic motions full of personal insults and requiring multiple discovery hearings, earning the disgust of the Court, the lawyers continue ad infinitum. On July 20, 2004, the Court’s schedule was interrupted by an emergency motion so the parties’ deposition, which began on July 20, would and could proceed until 6:30 in the evening. No intelligent discussion of the issue was accomplished prior to the filing and service of the motion, even though the lawyers were in the same room. Over a telephone conference, the lawyers, of course, had inconsistent statements as to support their positions. On July 20, 2004, the Court entered an order allowing the plaintiffs/counter-defendants until July 23, 2004 (two days from today) to answer a counterclaim. Yet, on July 21, 2004, Bodyworx.com, Inc.’s lawyers filed a motion for reconsideration of that Court order arguing the pleadings should have been filed by July 19, 2004. The Court simply wants to scream to these lawyers, "Get a life" or "Do you not have any other cases?" or "When is the last time you registered for anger management classes?" Neither the world’s problems nor this case will be determined by an answer to a counterclaim which is four days late, even with the approval of the presiding judge. If the lawyers in this case do not change, immediately, their manner of practice and start conducting themselves as competent to practice in the federal court, the Court will contemplate and may enter an order requiring the parties to obtain new counsel. In the event it is not clear from the above discussion, the Motion for Reconsideration is DENIED. SIGNED this the 21st day of July, 2004. /Sam Sparks UNITED STATES DISTRICT JUDGE JUDGE SPARKS FOR PRESIDENT!!!! <--- I put that part in

PART III - THE ALLEY

I step into the alley to smoke and notice a dude kinda leaned over... er up against our dumpster to the left. I keep moving to the right and across the alley to my "spot." I realize the dude is taking a piss... on our dumpster. His piss is flooding the alley. A few thousand things come to mind to say... none seem quite right. He zips it up, comes staggering by me and says,

"Yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that." I raised my cigarette and he almost falls face-first. I wish he had fallen face-first, right in his own piss. I guess that wasn't too funny.

My 100th Post

And what do ya know? I got nothing to say. I always say that and come up with something. My boss sent me home a whole five minutes early today. I guess he got tired of listening to me cough. Otherwise, I think he's getting ready to fire the office manager and wanted to clear the building before the walk of shame. Or, I'll go back tomorrow and things will be the same as they were when I left. Our office manager, I love him to death, great guy, horrible manager. Not that we need much direction but he had a serious dereliction of duty resulting in all our dental insurance being cancelled... just when the boss and his daughter had $3000.00 worth of work done. Ouch. Not that the OM hasn't had serious derelictions of duty before... just thought he would get the picture. And what the fuck is up with my friend Bragger? Look, okay, I made a mistake last year of fucking this guy. That's right, I admit it, I fucked him. We had sex. Sex. Fucking. Not making love or any of that... fucking. His ex-girlfriend had just left him after five years and he needed to feel lovable again and frankly, I was just horny. Now, we had hit it before so I knew he was good in the sack, he's just otherwise irritating as fuck. I told Michael (that's blogger Mike) that I would rather knaw my own arm off as to do him again. Why? One, because he won't leave me the fuck alone. Two, because he won't shut up digging for compliments about how great it was last time. Three, because in the middle of the deed last time he wanted me to watch a home-made porn of him and his ex-girlfriend. I know his ex-girlfriend. I didn't think that was cool. Yeah, I had purposefully gotten toasted and high, it takes that much to deal with him. I shouldn't have done it but he just did it basically to get back at his Exx. Okay. So, this is how I am... even if I know and they know its just a "knock boots" situation, I still treat them with respect, even when things get deliciously dirrrrty. Flat out, some of the things that happened before we hit the sack disrespected me, not in a huge there-is-no-way-I'm-doing-you-now way but in a way that I took note. The wanna-watch-a-porn-with-my-ex-girlfriend just did it for me. He disrespected her big time. He ended up taking her back, which I knew he would, and she ended up using his ass again, like I knew she would and now she's left him again, like I knew she would, and now he won't leave me alone. I don't mind chatting with him online but he always goes back to what happened last year. Wanting props for how good we were together. Dude, I was drunk and stoned. Yeah, it was good but then again, what do I know? I was drunk and stoned. It felt good and then it felt good to get the fuck away from you. I knew when I got out of your car that I would not be there again. I used to do stupid stuff like that but... I have changed since then. Its just not worth it to me anymore to get a lay and then have to deal with that shit. I've told him repeatedly, DO NOT COME TO MY HOUSE WITHOUT CALLING FIRST. What does he do? You guessed it... shows up unannounced. I'm rude. I don't let him in the house. He can stand outside. The time before that I ripped him a new asshole in front of one of his friends, that's how mad I was. It probably doesn't help that when I see his number I only answer about one out of a million times. Don't get me wrong... Bragger is a good guy. He would probably give me the shirt off of his back if I asked for it. It just irritates him that I never ask for it. He's the kind of guy who needs a woman who needs him, which I do not. He's the kind of guy who wants to take care of you, which means, he wants to smother the fuck out of you. Not my thing. He feels like a bad sweat on a humid day, when you're hair won't dry out and you're sure your skin will rot. And, hence his name, Bragger brags a lot. If you make money, he makes more... you had a hard day, his was harder... if you're sick, he's sicker or been sicker... you lost weight, he's lost more. It detracts like hell from his good qualities. You get so sick of him you really can't see them unless you know him a long time. Even then, after seven years, I'm still not down with it. I still can't stand it. Bragger is the kind of guy who tries to convince you that you need him. The harder he tries with me the more turned off I get. He's always telling me that I'm too independent and I need to let someone in... just so long as that someone is him. Fuck that. I would kill him. I told him, "No amount of sex, hot sex, wonderful glorious sex, will make up for the fact that we simply do not have compatable personalities. I WOULD KILL YOU." If my eyes roll back in my head in the worst way possible online, do you really think I could deal with seeing him in the flesh four or five times a week??? YIKES!! This is the reason I'd like to know where UPS man is going... I don't think I could handle two of them. I guess this may speak highly for my sex skills, right up to the part where he mentioned the porn of him and his Exx. Dude, get a clue! I don't care who you fantasize about, Lord knows, I wasn't probably thinking about you but keep you're fucking trap shut. It didn't hurt my feelings, I KNOW how good I am in bed... but I'm not wasting it on you, furthermore, I really like my arms.

Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?

1. A bumper sticker that said, "Keep Music Evil." 2. A picture of Karl Urban on Sloth's blog that she said looked a lot like Dastard. 3. Two bike cops, one who I saw in my side mirror as he pulled me over for an expired inspection sticker. As for keeping music evil... Okay!! I love elves. Legolas, Elrond, Haldir... its something about the hair in braids, the young faces, sleeping on their feet, keen eyesight and hearing. Not to mention what Orlando Bloom, Hugo Weaving and Craig Parker can do for braids and bows, the arrow kind, not the kind you wear in braids. Mmmmm... and who can forget Legolas drawing his bow in 1/2 a second to defend Gimli... swooon. Or Haldir marching into Helms Deep. Yes!! The calvary is here and ohhhh, the calvary looks GOOD!! (Although I have to say my absolute favorite part of the trilogy is when Strider/Aragorn is in the Prancing Pony when he's smoking his pipe and it lights up his eyes... OH. MY. GOD!) However, the Riders of Rohan were not bad either and what Karl Urban did for fluffy helmets and chain mail... hee hee... gotta love it. I especially love the part where he pushes Grima against the stones and gets in his face... oh, me! Me! Get in my face... I'll smooch ya!! And of course to think that Dastard looks anything like him just makes my crog worse (crog = blog + crush). But not to worry Leese, I haven't decided to change teams yet... that is until I see Dastard in a fluffy helmet and chain mail, then I might change my mind. Now, the bike cops... mmmm.... it was well worth it to have that sexy, muscular, blue-eyed hunk ask for my driver's license and practically get directions to my house. Meooooow... My main reason to break the law is to have sexy cops pull me over. Those in the town next to mine are delightfully delicious. I was with T-Bird's mom when she got pulled over and I had to wipe my mouth. Oh, he was hot, hot, hot. You might think after what I described two posts back that I would be afraid or just not like cops too well. I didn't for a long while. Then I had to do my internship with a police department and actually ride around in a car with them for 9-16 hours. That's how I met Nate's dad. I realize that not all cops are bad seeds. I don't stay on my guard with them any more than I do other men I do and don't know. I listen to my gut and remove myself from situations now that make me feel the least little bit uncomfortable, cops or not. Half the guys I graduated with are now cops and I know quite a few from this area. And they're all hunks, except for a few who need a serious diet. So, if I have to get pulled over, then bike cops and State Troopers looking for drugs are the way to go. I'm not carrying drugs so I don't mind looking at those State Troopers in their drug gear, the black, tight-fitting, multi-pocketed ones that show off their asses a hell of a lot better than polyester ever did. And when Jack talked about pressing that Sig Sauer into that druggies neck... wow! As long as he's pressing his lips into my neck and not a gun... hell yeah. This is always a rough time for me, when the moon moves through Scorpio and then through Sagittarius as I was born on the cusp and have to endure such heightened emotions, especially sexual ones. I almost did the Bald UPS guy in his truck today. Awww hell, we didn't even kiss, what am I talking about (although I did think about it... really hard). He did insinuate I was a cocktease though. Excuuuuse me?? Cocktease? Buddy, you don't know what cocktease is until you've been in MY mouth. Plus, I always finish what I start and if I don't plan on finishing it then I don't start it. We're supposed to have lunch again next week before he goes out of town for some golf trip. I plan on being upfront about where I see this going. I hope he gives me an honest answer about what he wants. Honestly, I can see myself laying him but not having a full blown relationship. Is that bad of me? While we were talking today he something about being sweet, he seemed to think I should be sweeter... hmmm... anyway, I had the overwhelming feeling he was discussing a different kind of sweet and would love to dine at my Y. Matter of fact, I got a visual and he glanced at my groin. Sigh... so much to dream about tonight. Tolkien elves and horselords... Dastard... cops and handcuffs... the UPS guy. Just call me the Tolkienesque Blogger Crogger Brown Badge Bunny. I love men (and I love everything about 'em... the way they look... the way they smell... the way they feel...) <-- lyrics taken from Live in the Raw by WASP... keep music EVIL!! And sexual too.

Marriage, Love, Infidelity and A Few Other Things

First, sorry to all bloggers if I have missed your comments on my earlier posts. Yahoo/Blogger normally lets me know but for some reason... pffffffffffffft!!!! Also to the folks who posted comments on my photoblog, I had no idea, and now its really too late to comment on your comments. Will look at my photoblog more. Speaking of my photoblog, I did post some pics of my friend Troy who lives in the Boston area and is a single guy. As I told Fleece, when I get to Boston in November I'm sure he'll see more of it in the three days I'll be there than he has in the past year. Beatdown with a bowl of clam chowdah, which I plan on consuming at an alarming rate while I am there. I may just decide that's all I need and live off of it. If its better than the best of the muck we have here, I will be a very happy Inanna. Okay, this is crazy... I'm getting hits from 1:00 p.m. today. Maybe Yahoo/Blogger is constipated and will begin pinging me with e-mails like... oh we don't want to go there. The following is something I wrote right after I started reading other people's blogs. I was quite disheartened at the time and I felt like I was being the most idealist person in the world to believe that one man would want to spend his life with me and have sex with no other woman BUT ME for the rest of his life. I still believe it is possible. Let's see what you guys think. Marriage, Love & Infidelity I’m bummed out because I read an online diary of a man last night who is cheating on his wife. Not having an affair, which would constitute emotional involvement, but merely meeting women once or twice, having a few go arounds and then moving on. Now he believes that biologically men are geared to spread their seed and that marriage and monogamy are inconsistent with that biology. He sites reports that upwards of 70% of men and 50% or so of women who are married have cheated or are cheating on their spouses. He doesn’t mention that women are biologically geared toward propagating and procreating with those she deems to be the stronger, better genetic form as to insure the strength and survival of the offspring. Okay, biology, hormones, etc. I get that. But that’s mere biology and applicable practically to every biological creature. Does the peacock not shake his tail feathers as testament to the female of his grace, beauty, honor and strength. Does the swan cob not rise from the water and beat his wings before the pen? But wait, swans are monogamous. Hmmmm....biology again? Biological anomaly aside, what is supposed to separate humans from other species is free will, correct? Logic? The ability to reason? What? I am reminded again of two things in my quest of understanding. The Clintons and Plato. I chuckled myself. I will put forth pure conjecture based on the readings I have done first of the excerpts from Bill Clinton’s mother’s book and Hilary Clinton’s book and then I’ll get to Plato. I believe that intellectually and accordingly, emotionally, Bill loves Hilary as much as he can love a woman. May not be what society wants it to be, may not be exactly what Hilary wants, but it is so. In Virginia Kelley’s book, she makes no bones about the fact that when Bill brought Hilary home to meet her that she was shocked by her plainness, not to mention, Hilary was not warm and fuzzy. Bill reprimanded his mother and brother with words something like "I need someone I can talk to." In other words, he sought his intellectual equal regardless of her unflattering looks. That in itself is a type of love and part of the big picture of love. At least in my book. Plato speaks of spiritual loveliness in the Symposium and how one may find it even in the "husk of an unlovely body, he will find it beautiful enough to fall in love with and to cherish..." Perhaps in Bill’s case the spiritual loveliness to him is Hilary’s intelligence and passion for her beliefs. Conjecture on my part, pure conjecture. However, Bill stopped on the Ladder of Love at about that point. Plato goes on to describe those having followed the path of Love find that love is not beauty nor does it take physical form of any type, basically it is infinity without form. Deep stuff which I’m still studying and will probably never figure out, if I was ever meant to. So, Bill loves Hilary, loves her deeply, finds her intellectually stimulating, a partner in politics, in life, in combined pursuits. Ahhhh... but Bill is also biological. Meaning, he needs sex. I hate to think that Hilary is a bore in the bedroom but truthfully, I think so. Not that this is any of anyone’s business. Frankly, I think Hilary and Bill have or may have had a tacit agreement, – do your thing, but be discreet. Oops. I think their marriage goes far beyond a business arrangement of intellectual minds and there is genuine affection and love between them. So back to the cheating spouse on the internet. Some excerpts from his diary: So was out last nite with the significant other ("SFO") at some hot and trendy establishments. She looked good no doubt...but so did almost every other chick dressed in hot pants, halter tops or skin tight hip-hugging jeans. ...The institution of marriage is also not an issue of dispute. Marriage has many benefits and joys unrelated to sex and physical intimacy. The concept of strict monogamy in marriage, however, is another issue. This concept is a social construct re-inforced (sic) with certain religious dogma that is counter to social nature. Once again, in every aspect of our lives we are encouraged to diversify, meet new people, obtain new relationships and foster interaction, except that we must sleep with only one for our entire lives. Why? I have to agree with his assessment of the dogma and religious mores associated with fidelity and infidelity. We’ve already established that biologically speaking, with a few exceptions, that we perhaps are not meant to sleep with just one person our entire lives. As evidenced by the first paragraph and by other entries, he truly believes that there are just too many good looking women to just sleep with one. Yet took a vow to forsake all others. Religious dogma? Societal pressure? Had there been no Bible and we were all taught to love freely without repercussions, would anyone remain faithful? Or would we all chase the next chick in tight jeans or the guy with the washboard stomach? For all people the answer may be yes or no. Personally, I believe there are people out there like me for whom sexually the idea of continually chasing a new piece of ass once or twice a week would be boring and unstimulating. This does not make us better than the person who does, it simply makes us different. Perhaps others may believe that the cheating spouse may have the best of both worlds, the spouse at home, the piece on the side and for right now, he’s getting away with it. But I do not understand the compulsion of this. Even though I know women who are just like that, determined not to be tied down by the bonds of matrimony so that they may flit and float from one to another, even though their ex-spouse gave them permission to do so, even with members of the same sex. It is no wonder that I feel freakish in this world today as I believe that love is a set of ladders, moving from the physical beauty, to the beauty of the soul, to the beauty of shared knowledge and intellect and further to a beauty which has no form and is infinite. Marriage is not the ideal, neither the beginning, nor the end, but as Khalil Gibran states in The Prophet: Love one another but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together, yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. And in reading that, one is moved by the fluidity and grace of Gibran’s words but in the context of this topic, does it perhaps mean too, when the pillars of the temple stand apart, that the oak and the cypress cannot grow in each other’s shadow, to let the wind flow between you... can this not be interpreted as a call to not hold too tightly to that which you love, as it will surely begin to suffocate and as it suffocates it struggles and strays? It seeks the new song and dance, a new lute, a new loaf to bite off of? Can this be interpreted to allow each partner their own, even in the context of infidelity? Although I do not believe that to be Gibran’s intent, I certainly saw the poem with new eyes in regard to the question of marriage, love and infidelity. Just an interpretation of the musings of a Greek philosopher, a Lebanese poet and a 21st Century Idealist.

Important Post to Me

I just finished reading Seeker's post, well, the one before the Pink Ribbon post and he had some pretty good ideas about some things. I also noticed that he posted about this: 6) There are uncountable women I have met in my days that claim to have been raped, date-raped, molested. While I realize this shit does happen. I think a little of it is over dramatized and is possibly fake memories. The wrold wants you to be a victim therefore you become one to gain some sort of fucking sympathy. Bugger off. I believe in some ways that is absolutely true. In other ways, it couldn't be more than false. The media has a made a mockery of the severity of rape. We have watched Kobe Bryant's accuser be put on trial in the name of justice. Because of it, like another blogger said, we may never know if he was falsely accused or really is a rapist. I've seen a proliferation of books and articles pointing fingers at famous and not-so-famous folks due to molestation and rape. Once it hits the mainstream media it can and will be distorted until the truth lies in a pile of shambles and basically numbs our society. Just another story, just another rape. I can say for certain that 85-90% of my girlfriends have either been raped or molested in their lifetime, all by family members, acquaintances or dates, sometimes friends of friends. I know none of them who have been attacked by a stranger. You will not find any of us writing books or going on Oprah or Dr. Phil about how our lives were changed by those encounters. We dealt with it, we moved on, wiser and stronger. None of sued for millions in civil court. As a matter of fact, I was the only one who even settled mine through the court system, albeit criminal court. I have to say that I am leary of stories of "surpressed memories" and things like that. Why? Because its media oriented. I'll never know the true story, never be able to meet these people to get the full measure of who they are. Once again, the media, in the name of "knowledge" saturates us with these stories and numbs our society. This is my story as closely and honestly as I can relate it. It was 1992. I was a Criminal Justice major at a nearby college. I had an evening class called "Ethics in Criminal Justice." (That is soooo ironic now) In class I made friends with a guy, I'll call him Marty. He was married with a child and worked in with a security company during the day. This required him to travel so when he wasn't in class I would copy my notes for him and if I couldn't be there he would do the same. This is nothing I didn't do for countless other classmates. He was set to graduate that Spring and planned on entering the Corrections Academy to become a Corrections officer. In early 1993, I received a call at my job from Marty. He was in town from the Academy and wanted to catch up and find out how school was going for me. He went on and on about how great the Academy was etc. He said he just wanted to have a cup of coffee and talk. I thought nothing of it. I had coffee all the time with guys and gals I met at college. Plus, this is someone who had graduated in my degree program and everyone knows that its not who you are, but who you know. He picked me up at the college at about 1:00 in the afternoon. I had to be back in class at 3:00. He mentioned a place nearby that served home-cooking so I said, "sure." We chatted about the Academy and he asked about some teachers and things and how my classes were going. When we got to the place it was closed (??) so we picked up some coffee from the 7-11. He had ridden with a local sheriff's department when he interned and told me he would show me where they parked to catch speeders. He pulled off the road and onto an access road that I had driven by numerous times and never noticed. There we sat in broad daylight, 20 feet from the main highway, completely concealed. He shut the motor off. (I realize now, in hindsight, that I had been had. He set that up perfectly. The friendly call, the closed diner, the concealed area... I'd been set up.) He turned to me and pulled a gun out from beside the seat and slid it barrel first down the dash up against the windshield, well within his reach, but far from mine. That knawing feeling in the pit of my stomach since I saw the closed diner exploded in full blown gremlins chewing at my insides. All I could see was his fingers caressing the butt of that gun. "You know Inanna, I've always liked you." And you know, that's all I can remember. I don't remember how I responded. I know he said he wanted to kiss me. I remember telling him I didn't want to, I didn't want to do anything. I just kept talking and talking and talking. I remember telling him that he really didn't want to do this, about his wife, his child, how I didn't want to do it. I fought his hands as they came under my sweater and down my pants and I just kept talking. Then he kissed me and forced his tongue into my mouth and I turned my face and I pulled at his hand to get it out of my pants and kept pushing at him and just kept telling him how much he didn't want to do this and how much I didn't want him to. I still remember the sound of him dragging that damn gun across the dashboard. It makes my stomach turn and the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. I can still see his fucking ugly pock-marked face looking at me, as though contemplating his next move. "I need to go back to school." "Sure." He slid over in the seat and stashed the gun between his legs. I still wasn't sure if he was going to take me back to school or if they would find my body somewhere before the bugs and critters scattered me to the four ends of the Earth. (I think back now and wonder why I didn't pull the door handle and get out of the truck and I know its because I was scared and was in shock... plus, I had no idea if anyone would have even rescued me before he got a hold of me.) So, you know that I'm alive and he took me back to school. I got out, shut the door and I never looked back. He stalked me at my job for a while. In the meantime, I lost 15 or 20 lbs. I stopped going to class. I quit going out. Before I turned him in, I was eating one bite of food a day. I weighed 105. None of my clothes fit. I wanted to die. (I want to say, that even though Marty didn't rape me, what he did was a crime that I wasn't even aware existed. I thought it had to be rape... yeah, and I was a criminal justice major.) I was sitting in the hallway waiting to see my advisor and started to talking to Stewart, a guy who worked and went to school when he could fit it in. He worked the same place as Marty did on weekends. I made a comment about how Marty had told me how things really were at the jail and then I blurted out about what Marty had done to me. Stewart talked me into coming down to the Sheriff's department to talk to his boss on the pretense of Marty's big fat mouth. I knew better. The story came out, first to the Sheriff's Department, who then turned it over to the State Police. They were tough but kind. I repeated my story over and over as it moved up the chain of command. I gave a video statement. Then, I called Marty at the Corrections Academy and set up another phone meeting. Sgt. S. wanted me to meet with him in person but his boss, said, NO WAY! The day came and I had to do some pretty fine acting as he lied, and lied and lied about what had happened... until I broke him. He admitted it and begged me not to go to the police. Little did he know they were not only listening in but tape-recording our conversation. It helped that after the story came out, other women on The Hill, The Hill being where the Sheriff's Department, State Police, jail and Courthouse all were at the time, came forward with testimony and evidence of how he had stalked and harrassed them. When they arrested him, he denied everything. Sgt. S. sat down with him and reminded him of the conversation he had with me not long before and informed him that it had been recorded in the very office where he sat. He broke down and cried and said he had been abused as a child etc. etc. Which may very well be the truth as its quite common. I really didn't give a shit. He received probation, sex offender classes and he has to register as a sex offender. I went to counseling, which I paid for myself, and I moved on with my life. My teachers were very understanding and allowed me to make up work as I could and grade me on what I had been able to accomplish. Notably my Sociology teacher who had me in class before and was the first to notice that something was wrong. I love that man!! Thanks Dr. Thompson!! Don't get me wrong. I believe that rape happens, molestation happens and it is common and frequent. The media however, instead of helping, has hindered forward progression of the understanding of a terrible crime. Instead of people wondering what we can do to help the victims, we're wondering how much they will make in their civil suits and book deals while the common women, men (yes men!) and children plunder on in silence. I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, nor to give me book deals or make a movie. Its a part of my life that I have moved on from and quite frankly, I just don't want any money to remind me of something that I've put behind me. Can you imagine getting a fancy new car and peeps asking about it and you saying, "Yeah, I bought it with my rape pay-off money." I didn't think so.

1,488 Beads

I have been posting a lot so scroll down to see My Ideal Man post and Sexually Explicit Lyric post. Anyway, I have been working on a bracelet for the past week or so. My best friend (Beanie), her brother is in Iraq and is having a really hard time, just like the rest of them. He's just really not doing well. The bracelet I made is entirely glass seed beads, 1,488 of them. I will post a pic as soon as I get my film developed. I will describe it though... it begins with 13 rows of yellow, followed by an American flag, complete with 50 stars and 13 stripes and then is followed by more yellow with the word FAITH spelled out in blue (gold and blue being Mountaineer colors). I then chopped the ends and tied them. Took a piece of suede and sewed it to it. I had put the pieces on the end so it would actually fit. I finished it last night and put glue around all the edges. It isn't perfect in the least. I miscounted... its a little poofy where I sewed it but for my first attempt, without much of anything to go by, I'm pretty damn proud. I hope Jeremy likes it. I'll post his pic as well when I get the opportunity. Hope everyone is having a wonderful Sunday.

My Ideal Man - List and Rules

Everyone has a list... so baaaaaa... following the herd. (Tip: If you just want to read about sex, its at the bottom of the page.) Education 1. Have one. Employment 1. Have a job. 2. Keep the job you have. 3. Have ambition to better yourself if its not what you want. 4. Don’t fuck around with women on the job (or anywhere). Intelligence 1. Be able to carry an intelligent conversation and help me win Strip Trivial Pursuit, otherwise we’ll be naked in front of the neighbors. 2. If you know something, you know it, don’t rub it in. If you don’t, don’t act like you do. Bullshit stinks, even yours. Housekeeping Skills 1. I’ll cook if you clean. 2. I’ll try really hard to pick up after myself if you do the same. 3. Aim for the hole in the middle of the toilet. If you miss, clean it up yourself. 4. Seat down at night, in the daylight I can see that its up and won’t sit my ass in toilet water. 5. If its not in the laundry room it won’t get washed. I’m too ADD to remember to wash half the time anyway. Do it yourself but don’t bitch at me. I’m not the maid. Kids/Critters 1. It helps if you love kids and cats, actually, you have to, we’re a package deal... all 10 of us. 2. You will need to protect your most precious things from us... kids like to draw, cats like to claw and me, I’m just clumsy. 3. If I love you, my kid and my cats will too. 4. If you have kids, great! Although I would still like to have one... or two, with you. 5. You’re children will be treated as one of my own... boo-boo’s will be kissed, band-aids applied, discipline given and they will be loved. We will occasionally gang up on you... deal with it. 6. If you abuse my child in any way, it is grounds for death. I won’t stand for it. 7. You may throw one cat from the bed at 5 a.m. on weekends only, otherwise, turn over and give me love since we’re awake anyway. 8. Any kids are our responsibility, not just yours, not just mine, ours. Personal Appearance 1. Cleanliness is next to godliness and next to my body. 2. All teeth must be present and neat in appearance. 3. My body is not perfect, I don’t expect yours to be, but be reasonable. I want to look nice for you, do the same for me. 4. Taller than me is good. A lot taller than me is even better. 5. You absolutely must have bigger hands than I do. I have very small hands, this should not be difficult. Interests 1. It would be nice if we had some common interests. 2. It would also be nice if we didn’t so you’re not stuck up my ass all the time and likewise, I’m not stuck up yours. Money 1. It would be nice to have a savings account. 2. Bills first, then fun. Friends 1. Hope you have some. 2. No, they will not move in with us, nor will mine. 3. I hope you go out with them occasionally and get out of my hair, if not, I hope I make you and you likewise make me go out with mine. Drinking/Drugs 1. Drink a few but don’t be a drunk. 2. No drugs (exceptions are made for pot on a highly limited basis and only when the kids are away) 3. I smoke, so can you, but I would hope we would help each other quit. Sex/Intimacy 1. Sex three to five times a week, more if you want it but I like to at least keep it at three as a minimum. 2. I like giving blowjobs. Let me when I want to, especially if the deep south is on the bench for a week. 3. Don’t talk my ear off after sex. Spoon me. 4. Multiple positions are good, in one night, or spread out, it makes no difference. 5. Be willing to learn some new positions. 6. Realize the bedroom is not the only place to have sex. 7. Shower with me, frequently. 8. Kiss the top of my shoulders and my back in doggy position. 9. Communication is important in all aspects of a relationship... talk dirty to me. 10. Let me strip for you. 11. Tie me up and tease me and I’ll do the same for you. Kinky is a good, good thing. 12. Flavored lubes and massage lotion rock. 13. I love giving massages whether they lead to sex or not. 14. Kiss me, deeply and passionately, at least once a day. 15. I don’t use sex as a weapon, don’t do that to me. Its degrading and I don’t deal well with that. 16. Hugging, snuggling and hot smoldering looks are good foreplay, even hours before we can be alone. Flirt with me. 17. Third parties may be included on a limited alternating basis at the agreement and enjoyment of both partners. One for me, one for you... can’t handle it, don’t start it. 18. Otherwise, if you fuck around on me, you will be dismissed, divorced and I will get half your shit. If you give me a disease, curable or not, you will die a slow, painful death. 19. Flirt all you want, get lap dances with your buddies, just remember you’re coming home to me, keep your hands and lips to yourself and your dick in your pants. 20. If you abuse me physically or emotionally, two words... Burning Bed. I'm sure I forgot some things.... but I think I hit the high points. Applications are now being taken... LOL!!!

If You Thought The Last Post Was Dumb....

This is worse.... Seems as though I'm not the only one who has trouble deciphering cyber-speak. Even some emoticons confuse me. But a friend of mine sent an e-mail today with some actual good ideas for "emoticons".. err.. ummm I mean "assicons": (_!_) a regular ass (__!__) a fat ass (!) a tight ass (_*_) a sore ass {_!_} a swishy ass (_o_) an ass that's been around (_x_) kiss my ass (_X_) leave my ass alone (_zzz_) a tired ass (_E=mc2_) a smart ass (_$_) Money coming out of his ass (_?_) Dumb Ass So, now no one will be confused when I say "Hey, (_?_)!!" Urgh... I swear, better things to follow tonight. Either a dissertation on Love, Marriage and Infidelity or my list of rules/wants in an ideal man. You can vote in the comments if you so desire... if not, you get what I post.

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL LYRICS XXX

Was going to post some lyrics in retaliation to a certain blogger... so I will do that first. To the blogger who made intense passion surge through my loins today, beatdown with this W.A.S.P. song: 9.5 - N.A.S.T.Y. One woman down my street is, too hot for the average man Hard to handle, a fire in her eye Wants the hot rocks right in her hand I know she's burning, hot with love A come-on look and she ain't fooling And she knows just what it does She gave me a number to make me feel fine Said call me up baby It's gonna be 9.5. - N.A.S.T.Y. You're everything I need Cause I want what you're giving I'm yours to do with what you please (Chorus) N.A.S.T.Y., you're everything I need Cause I want what you're giving I'm yours to do with what you please Ooh - no mama's baby, this child She's a killer wrapped in high heel shoes Touch the skin it burns like fire 'Cause I don't even care if I'm being used She threw me down and then she tore off my jeans She said, come on baby, I mean business I'm gonna show you what liberated means Do it to me babyI'm losing my mind Said call me up baby, its gonna be 9.5. - N.A.S.T.Y. (Chorus X 2) Some bad habits, are hard to break Feel like an earthquake comin' I got to shake, shake, shake (Chorus X 2) and this W.A.S.P. song: Wild Child I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain A creature of love and I can't be tamed I want you, cause I'm gonna take your love from him And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin No, he'll never ever touch you like I do So look in my eyes and burn alive the truth (Chorus X 2) I'm a wild child, you can love me I want you My heart's in exile I need you to touch me 'Cause I want what you do I want you Tell me, tell me the lies you're telling him when you Run away 'cause I wanna know Cause I, I'm sure it's killing him to find That you run to me when he lets you go 'Cause I'm burning, burning, burning up with fire So - come turn me on and turn the flames up higher (Chorus X 2) A naked heat machine, I want your love When the moons arise we'll feel just what it does (Chorus X 2) and this W.A.S.P. song: Shoot From the Hip Oh, look out, here comes trouble! All my life I've taken what I want Give an inch, take a mile Always on the hunt Ooh- sex, money, fast cars, never get my fill I ride hard and die free Paying for my thrills Firewater moonshine going to my head Me and my pistol's loaded Go out and knock 'em dead (Chorus) I'm gonna shoot it, bang boom Shoot it from the hip Got it loaded bang, pull the trigger boom I don't never miss I'm gonna shoot it, bang boom Shoot it from the hip Got it loaded bang, pull the trigger boom Cock it and let 'er rip Hot sweaty steel, a woman's fingers on my gun Pull it hard, touch the trigger, squeeze it when I'm done Ooh- come woman, touch me, put it in your hand Take a hold, heart and soul Honey I'm your man Cock the hammer slowly, and aim it at your love Put my barrel in your holster Like a velvet glove (Chorus) Hot and sticky, here it comes Emotion you can't tame Kinda tricky watch it run Smoking like a flame, flame, flame, flame Hot and sticky, here it comes I got the bullets, load it up Slide it into place My emotions Coming down all across your face (Chorus) And this W.A.S.P. song: Harder, Faster I don't care if you track me down Like an animal that's on the run Tie me down spread-eagle Leave me dyin' in the sun Cause I scream bloody murder When you writhe and when you squeeze You smell my blood and you come runnin' Taste me if you please (Bridge) Lick it hard, lap it up, do it now baby, touch it, touch it Lick your lips, the pleasure calls Shuck me, suck me, eat me raw (Chorus X 2) Oooh, Harder faster Yeah, that's what I need cause Now that's what I'm after Come do that wicked deed aha I can hear those cries of love A wolf howls at the moon A heart attack, a sex maniac With rock salt in my wounds Cause I can feel my pulsing vein Make it last, last all night longI taste the bliss I wet the lips And I don't care if it's wrong (Bridge/Chorus X 2) Slippin' slidin' strokin' the devil's hand of sin Screamin wild and smokin' the ecstacy begins Listen to your woman here She say she don't want none of this slow down crap You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? (Chorus) All lyrics taken from: W.A.S.P. - Live in the Raw The moral of this post is -- do not wake the slumbering beast within me that I try so hard to make behave. I have claws, which know how to scratch and a mouth, which I definitely know how to use... if you're followin' me... As much as I try to be warm and fuzzy, there exists within me a carnal, vicious beast which has a thirst for flesh and blood. When teased and enticed she feels no remorse nor regret for her actions and when its over, hopes you are not dead, seriously wounded or choose to follow her around for the next five years. Oh, and good news for anyone who has made it this far... looks like I'll be flying to Boston, YIPPEE!!! the 3rd weekend of October or the 1st weekend of November. Go Nanny! Go Nanny! Go Nanny!

Micro-Post -- What's on the Boss's Mind

Sissy found an e-mail on my boss's computer to the associate attorney. It was in reference to the fact that yesterday I had an excrutiating sinus headache and would be in later. -- "Inanna changed into a pair of tight jeans and left about five yesterday evening, I'm assuming for Working Women's Wednesday. Do you think she got lucky? Or just a headache?" So sorry to disappoint them... had two beers, started developing headache, went to Wal-Mart, paid my car payment, went home... spent next six hours in agony, awoke in agony. Maybe if I had gotten lucky I wouldn't have felt so shitty.

Ack! Hack! Hack! Ack!

I've got a fucking cold. I hate colds, I hate sinus trouble. I stayed home from work today for over half a day. I wanted to stay home all day but I had clients depending on me. One in particular, I'll call her Madge, has been waiting to settle her case. She fell on some stairs at her apartment building almost three years ago. Normally these types of cases make me yawn but truly this apartment building looks like it should have been condemned when God was a boy. Its amazing to me what HUD will approve fit for habitation by humans. Iraq looks better. Anyway, a few months ago Madge found out she has breast cancer. She wasn't going to have any treatment because her father died from cancer and she saw what it did to him. I told her things weren't the same now and she deserved to give herself a chance to live. She asked me if I would have treatments and I said "absolutely." I know her family was on her to take them too. She told me later though that had it not been for what I said she wouldn't have. That kind of took me by surprise. Madge is "old WV." Poor but proud. Raised in the southernmost county in the state where you mind your business and everyone else minds theirs but you still know everything about everyone. Now, when I first took over her case, I wasn't too fond of her or her kin. But, like a festering sore you pick and pick and pick at so that it never heals, they've grown on me, especially Madge. When her son called to tell me she had a stroke, I sat in the alley and smoked and cried, thinking of life without Madge. She wants to take me out to eat when she gets her settlement, as a thank you for all I've done. I normally don't do things like that but I know how much it will mean to her. Her looks are... shall we say... interesting. She slicks her hair straight back away from her face and then cuts it at the nape of her neck. She then shellacs it with something resembling black shoe polish. I think this is what it is because it doesn't move a millimeter and leaves these interesting... ummm skid marks on her forhead where she curls 10 or 15 stray hairs. In my seven years as a paralegal, I had never sit in on a deposition until Madge's. She refused to do it without me present because, hahahahaha, she didn't trust my boss (her lawyer) because she didn't know him like she knew me. Opposing counsel was some stoic pussy who should have been something other than a lawyer. One of the biggest misconceptions I believe Southerners face is other folks tend to subtract IQ points when they hear our accent. Madge has a deep, deep Southern WV accent. Most people in that area speak a form of Elizabethean English. Make no mistake though, Madge is no idiot. Her son has two or four teeth missing on top but the boy is no dummy. Strike one against stoic pussy attorney. While trying to explain where her apartment was in relation to the ground and other apartments, he got all messed up and continued quizzing her over and over on the same thing. My boss is at the head of the table to my left and Madge is to my right. She had already tested my humor quota so I spent time looking at my hands and trying not to laugh. When stoic pussy lawyer pushed the rough outline of what the aparment complex looked like, she put her finger down and said, "This here's the ground floor apartment," she looked up at him with her bug eyes and said, "are ya followin' me?" I almost lost it. I was shaking so hard I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Then she said, "and this here's the second floor apartment, are ya followin' me?" I made the mistake of looking at my boss. His face was red and he was shaking to keep from laughing. That was all it took. We both bust out laughing. We laughed so hard I cried. Madge, stoic pussy lawyer and the court reporter looked at us straight-faced as though we were nuts. Needless to say we went off the record until my boss and I could compose ourselves. It was classic and we still use that saying around the office to each other when we need a laugh. So, we did settle Madge's case today. Its bittersweet. The settlement is deserved and I know this will make things a little easier on her. The stroke was a small one but she's having physical therapy to help restore strength and movement on her left side in addition to further cancer treatments. She asked me today if she could call me if she needs our services again. I told her of course she could. I hope though, she decides to call me sometime, even if she doesn't.

Hair Raising Question

Okay, my buddy Seeker and I are conducting independent surveys of men's likes and dislikes as far as hair length. My hair is down almost past my bra strap, I say anything brushing the shoulders or shorter, is short. So, guys and gals, turn on? Or turn off? Lurkers too, I need your input. Go to Seeker's blog and see his argument for shorter hair. I always thought my hair brushing a man's body as I ardently go down on him was a good thing. I always thought a man winding his strong fingers through my flaxen waves and tugging was a sexy thing. Am I wrong?

Hair Raising Question

My hair is long, almost past my bra strap in the back. I consider short hair anything that just brushes the shoulders and shorter. So, is hair as long as mine a turn on? Or turn off? Honestly now folks... ladies too, you know what your men like, I need some feedback. Come on lurkers, I'm asking for your opinion, let's hear it!!

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Bald UPS Guy Update No, he doesn't love me. Anyway, we went to this really great Lebanese restaurant. The food was fantastic!! And, it was very nice. I liked him more after this date. I was pretty up front with my expectations which were, we'll see. He's a joker and a cut-up. We talked about personal boundaries and space, ex's and quirks and perks. We're on for lunch next week again. Guess I'll see where it goes. Now... AZ Whether any guy I date realizes it or not, that's who their up against. Its unfair and bullshit. I know this. As hard as I try to find the flaw in order to peel the part of my onion that deals with AZ, I either won't or I can't. Maybe I'm not ready. Part of me feels if he would just sit down with me and be honest about our friendship, relationship etc. that I could finally, in one way or another, move on. Part of me tells me that this may never happen for one of two reasons: 1) He knows I will move on or 2) he just never wants to admit anything and things are better left the way they are. The other part of me says I'm wasting my life continually looking for the traits in him that I find so appealing, in other men. With AZ, I found that unique combination of friendship, intelligence, humor, ambition and sexual attraction. Not that he doesn't have some pretty major flaws, potentionally deal breaking ones. That important conversation we almost had the other day was about the last letter I sent him. Where I told him to get his head out of his ass. I wanted to address the situation at least by voice, if not in person. I will see him tomorrow after work. I will ask him to give me a call or stop by since I will be sans child and maybe we can clear the air a bit. He has the URL to this blog but I doubt seriously that he reads it... lack of time. And besides, there's nothing here he doesn't already know. I'm sure some folks are like, well, why can't you just accept he wants to be "just friends"? Well, I think it would help if he told me that. Its not like we're fuck buddies. We've fooled around over the past 12 years but never sealed the deal. Its like "don't count me in, but don't count me out." And he's not had trouble in the past saying certain things... why would he hedge on this? I know, you guys don't have any answers. I think, just once and for all, I would like to know what his feelings toward me are. I know he cares for me, I know he thinks of me as a good friend and someone he can confide in. The burning question for me is .... is there in the immediate future a future for us as a couple? There's a lot more history that I could go into but perhaps I'll blog about that later. Twelve years of hits and misses is a lot. What really bummed me out is how I had a nice lunch with a decent fellow and I feel bad because AZ is on my mind. I feel like... I don't know... stupid. I think its unfair to be with someone and be thinking about someone else. I did tell the UPS guy that I was dealing with a few things and I wasn't interested in getting into anything serious. I don't know if he heard that or just pretended to. Well, if anyone has any ideas as to how I can hog tie AZ and get this situation out in the open, I'm game as hell for suggestions. Hell, I might have to hog tie him. Well, let me go practice my roping. Happy Wednesday!!

Rush, Rush, Rush - Mini Post

I'm in hurry, my boss is on my butt. Thanks for all the comments. I hate not responding to each one but will get to that when I get home. Fell asleep last night with Nate, contacts in, clock not set, door wide open, woke up at 7:50 this morning. Read Sloth's post about nasty dreams/nightmares and had to look up the teeth falling thing. Luckily, its just a horrible dream about losing control. I've had a recurring dream but don't have time to put it on paper. I did have a dream about bloggers one morning about the time that Jack was skydiving and Leese was giving out breastfeeding tips because in the dream we bloggers were going down in a disabled plane and having to skydive out of it. As I was floating under my canopy, I could see Leese trudging through the snow (no idea why it was snowy okay?) with a baby in her arms. Even though I'm terrified of heights, I felt calm floating around up there at the same time wondering what in the hell I was doing there... LOL!! That's it for now... Happy Tuesday!!!

We Bloggers

Cattiva asked in my comments section if I thought basically all bloggers are cut from the same cloth. Since I posted about being a slob and I've read other blogs which lament about the same problems with housekeeping, not to mention several other topics, I'm compelled to say, that with 40,000 blogs and growing, we are all not the same. However, I will say that the bloggers in our blog-o-sphere, as Dastard calls it, seem to share commonalites. I think that it is inherent to seek others similar to ourselves so that we have something we can relate to. Even if we are different ages, ethnicities, nationalities, married, single, divorced, children, child-less, north, south, east and west... we have found a common thread. It is not the same thread with each person and we do not share every thread, which keeps it interesting. I never thought when I set up my blog that I would find the group of people that I have. I've spent most of my life feeling as though I never quite fit anywhere. Not that I don't have friends and make friends but the circle is small. Through blogging I visit places I've never been, like South Africa, Canada, Australia, California, Massachusetts and the Midwest. I get to share in the lives of people I probably otherwise would have never had the opportunity to meet in person and they, likewise, get to share in mine. Mondays are always a great day because the bloggers who took the weekend off will start posting again. Kevin and Sister Moon will be back from their vacations soon and we'll get to read the details of their trips. Gooch is going to be a dad very, very soon but alas, we are forced to wait nine long months for Trashman's newest addition. Not to mention, everyone else and what's going on with them. Just wanted to say thanks to all you bloggers and have a happy Monday.

5:03 A.M.

I finished the hemp bracelets, or rather anklets, in pretty good time. Even though Nate started messing with the beads and ended up dumping them down the dryer vent on my old dryer. I had to tear it down to retrieve the beads. Oh Happy Day! I have spent the remainder of the time working on a seed bead bracelet. I have these tiny beads in my hair, up my nose, on the floor, in the keyboard of my computer, in my ears and I wouldn't be surprised to find one or two down south or stuck under my boobs. All that, and the bracelet looks like shit. Three cats have almost lost their lives today as I would get a strand done and they would start messing with them and as I was throttling them the beads would slip off and scatter. At least now I know why the bracelet looks like shit and will do better tomorrow... er later today or tomorrow. All is not lost I suppose. The hemp anklets turned out great except that mine will have to be surgical removed as I have had my leg under me all day. As a matter of fact, I may have to be surgically removed from this chair. Some interesting facts about today: 1) Speed works 2) My ankle is 7 1/2 inches around, my wrist is 5 1/2. 3) Nate's ankle is 6 1/2 inches around, his wrist is 5. 4) I have very small bony wrists. 5) My phone has not rang one time. 6) My son does know how to use the microwave. 7) If you blow ashes off the desk it scatters beads. 8) I cannot bead worth a shit. 9) I cannot bead worth a shit with a 15 lb. cat on my lap. 10) Trashman is going to be a dad. Good night

Miscellaneous

So, I have a few things to talk about that have been swirling around in my head. First, the streets where I live are named after presidents. Cleveland, Harrison, Grant, McKinley, Adams, Lincoln, Washington. All these streets run east/west. The cross street names though are a mystery. Some, I can figure out, like Boone, Bowie, Hudson and Cody. To me, named about Daniel Boone, Jim Bowie, Henry Hudson and Buffalo Bill Cody. Its the best I can do. Some of the streets are named after trees or Vines and some person named Meyers and Abney. The streets in the "downtown" area (bwhahahahaha) are letters and numbers. Seriously, the town has 12,000 residents. We have 11 residences listed on the National Register of Historic Places and our Main Street is a certified Historic District with 28 buildings. Fort Tackett was orginially built on land granted to George Washington following his involvement in the French and Indian War. The Battle of Scary Creek took place down the road and we have a prehistoric site as well that dates back to 7,500 B.C. There used to be street cars here and there's a small building from 1846 which sits down the road from me which has one of those white signs that shows its important. Sternwheelers and other river boats are still a favorite pasttime and we have two regattas to prove it. So, that's where I live. Not sure if that's very interesting to anyone other than myself. As for what else is on my mind... I talked to AZ briefly yesterday. We have both had "a week." He told me he got my last "novel." What might have turned into an important conversation, for both of us, in different ways, was interrupted by another phone call and off he went. Sigh. I ended up crying at work yesterday because I've had such a difficult time getting my brain to work. I know my boss is disappointed and I'm disappointed in myself too. This does not really help anything. My house looks like Hurricane Charley blew through. And may I just send a shout out to the fine folks in Florida that I'm thinking of you and praying that things take on some resemblence of normalcy soon. Mother Nature can be a crusty old hag sometimes. Back to my house. I've always, always been untidy, messy, disorganized, a slob. I hate it. Yet I sit amongst the clutter and stare as though in a dysfunctional trance as to how to cure it. I did have at least the main quarters of the house in order when I was seeing Lex but now... pfffffft!!! Its getting to where I can't see the living room floor anymore. Other people, like my mom, make it seem so easy. There is nothing easy about it for me. Like right now, I should be cleaning instead of blogging. When I finish blogging, I should be cleaning instead of reading other peep's blogs. I should be cleaning instead of watching a movie or reading a book or taking a nap or sitting staring at the wall. I never finish anything I start. Okay, never is a strong word. Let's just say, it takes forever!! I have a craft project that I want to work on which entails seed beading a piece of suede with indian symbols to cover the skull cap of my deer antlers. So, it still sits. I also have a craft set to make a choker and bracelet from hemp. Its sitting on my lap right now. At least I don't have to learn the macrame' involved. My mom taught me that a long time ago. Sigh. Wish me luck. I'll be back later.

West Virginia History Lesson

The great state of West Virginia was born of the Civil War. Tired of being used and abused by their kin in Richmond following Virginia's succession from the Union, the bastards formed their own government under the state of Virginia and subsequently received permission from themselves to become a different state. Pretty crafty huh? The Union (i.e. Federal Government) saw this as a way to increase their land mass and were more than willing to overlook such small things as who actually owned the land that would become West Virginia. Abraham Lincoln signed us up and on June 20, 1863, we were born (again). West Virginia has a rich, rich history. Depending on the historian, West Virginia either boasts the last battle of Lord Dunmore's War (the western most fight against the American Indian) or the first battle of the Revoluntionary War at Point Pleasant, WV (VA at the time) which is about 45 minutes from my house. There the legendary Shawnee Chief Cornstalk and his braves and regiments from VA battled it out. The militia was victorious and stopped Lord Dunmore's War which would have prevented VA from entering the Revolutionary War. The most interesting thing about this to me is that possibly one of my ancestors fought in the Battle of Point Pleasant. I haven't been able at this time to confirm that he is actually my ancestor as I don't have a paper trail as of yet. The chances of that happening are slim but for the most part I'm 99% sure he was my grandfather. That was on my dad's side of the family. On my mom's side, I do have a confirmed Revoluntionary War veteran for a grandfather, he's actually my grandfather twice, but I'll get to that in a later post. George Belcher is definitely my ancestor and definitely fought in the Revolutionary War. He served as one of 11,000 men at Valley Forge with George Washington in the sad sorry winter of 1777-1778. He is also said to have fought at the Battle of Cowpens, made famous by the Mel Gibson movie The Patriot. Either way, he was made of sturdy stuff. His grandson married a Ramey (Remy). The Rameys were said to have migrated from Eygpt to France in 600-700 A.D. and were descendants of or related in some way to Charlemagne. I like seeing how my family fits into the history of West Virginia, not to mention, the world at large. I grew up in a semi-rural area of the southern part of the state. My dad's family were the first white settlers in Boone County in the mid 1700's. It is hard to imagine how difficult it was to reach such an outlying area for the time period. That's where I grew up. No more than 10 miles from where my great-grandfathers first settled the wilderness. The Battle of Blair Mountain, also called "The Redneck War of 1921" (because the miners wore red bandanas around their necks) and "The Miner's March" was the largest labor uprising in the history of America entailing some 8,000 to 13,000 men fighting for the right to unionize the coal mines. The fighting became so bad President Harding called in federal troops. This interests me because they marched through Madison, the county seat of Boone County and had organized about 10 miles from my house on Lens Creek. I'm not sure if any of my family were present. I do know that my great-grandfather was a miner in Kanawha County at that time, where the march began, but its my understanding that Kanawha County was already unionized at that time, although miners from all over WV and neighboring states came to assist. For me, it is difficult to imagine walking the route that they did. It was still a dirt road at the time. A road that is now a divided four lane highway linking Charleston to the Kentucky border. Without a knowledge of the mountain ranges and what lies in each valley it is difficult to understand the exact layout, even with a map, for someone not familiar to the area. I would like to do my next post on deep Southern WV and Homer Hickam. Homer wrote "The Rocket Boys" which later became "October Sky" and a movie starring Jake Gyllenhall and Laura Dern was made. Read the book, much better stuff. I had the pleasure of visiting Coalwood, WV and meeting Homer and the other Rocket Boys (not to mention getting my book signed by all of them.) Considering the time period and where they lived, it is really an amazing and inspiring story. I have photographs also and would like to post those but alas, I have no scanner and will have to ask someone to do it for me. I guess I will wait until I can do that. I would also like to post a map or something to show exactly how freaking rural the area he grew up in was. It made Boone County look like New York City. Well... not quite (wink).

Well Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!!!!

Isn't that just a fucking lovely way to start my post for this evening?? I was all set to tell you about a wonderful book that I bought today but wouldn't ya know? I left the fucker at work and I soooo wanted to read it this evening!!! That just goes with what else the post is about anyway. The book is called, "The Tale of the Devil - A biography of Devil Anse Hatfield." If you haven't heard of the Hatfields and McCoys feud you are not from this planet, please go back from whence you came in peace. Okay, maybe its a just an American thing so all Canadians, South Africans and Australians may stay. I believe those are the folks who visit. Anyway, the Hatfield-McCoy feud is pure WV/KY history. Its especially interesting to me as my ancestors intermarried with both clans in the 1800's. None of my direct ancestors did but some of their progency did. After all, its all about family here. I've only made it through the preface or introduction or whatever they called it and the first chapter. Normally, I don't read the preface to any book. However, this one was quite interesting. It chronicles the migration of pioneers into the Appalachian mountains, tells about the geography (I remember that the average grade of an Appalachian mountain is 45% and the New River is thought to be the oldest river in the world.) and what sorts of folks could make it in the harsh, harsh land that was the Appalachians of the 1800's. The Appalachians were once thought to be higher than the Himalayans but through time and erosion they are now shorter than the Rockies. It is not unusual when hiking in the high dense forests of WV to come across fossils... of seashells. My dad found a huge block of sandstone once in Pocahontas County, an Eastern border county which had probably 100 seashell fossils in it. Its amazing to me to know that WV and all these mountains once stood under water. The book also goes on to explain why the Mountaineers were such clannish and private folk (and still are). Its because they came here, like most others, to escape religious persecution. Most were of Scotch-Irish descent. Meaning they were originally Scottish and were forced into Northern Ireland as the unwanted and eventually migrated to the Colonies. My family though were French and came basically for the same reason. The term "hillbilly," which causes we Mountaineers to cringe, is actually an endearment of sorts as the Scottish word for friend is "billy." Friends of the hills, yes, that's us. Just don't put your shanty up within shoutin' distance of ours and we'll be fine. I will post more about Devil Anse Hatfield as I read the book. One of his great-great-granddaughters was a client of ours and she certainly took her role as a Hatfield to heart. I know already that he was born about 10 years before my great-grandmother who is mentioned in my June post about Jesse James. He was a skilled hunter and equestrian. This book was written by one of his descendants and I'll get that information when I get the damn book from the office. Which leads me to the next thing. I have medical conditions known as depression and anxiety. I hate them. I had my first real depressive/anxiety episode before leaving for Germany when I was 17, which was par for the course I believe. The next was after, well, Gabriel was born. Ah shit, his name is Nate. My son's name is Nate. Pffffffft!! Anyway, it was bad and I blew it off to post-partum but it was full blown depression. The next episode was while the Drunk Boyfriend lived here. My grandfather died unexpectedly, 9/11, dealing with a drunk, dealing with Nate and his dad's abuse... I finally went on medication. Thank you, it worked very well. It was Wellbutrin. I know it caused some folks problems but for me, it was a dream drug. I was Queen of the World. Eventually, I weaned myself off and was doing okay, except I noticed that it became more difficult to focus and concentrate. I just worked harder. When my next depressive episode hit about two months ago, I was in agony and kept trying to muck and muddle through but knew I needed medication again. I did. This time they put me on Lexapro. Cool stuff. My depression and especially my anxiety are well under control on the lowest dose. Just one problem. The attention and concentration problems which I attributed to the depression are not gone. If anything, being clearer minded from the lack of depression, I'm noticing them more. I took an Adult ADD questionaire online. Let's just say, it doesn't look good. I'm a classic textbook case. My symptoms range from moderate to Whoa-you-really-got-a-problem. Since Nate was diagnosed with ADHD, I suspected that I was the source. Just to describe what its like: If I like something, I will do until I'm blue in the face, which is called - hyperfocus. For example, blogging. If I don't, then I have to force myself to do it and most of the time, don't get it done, like, oh say, housework. I live in a perpetual state of clutter. Clutter everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. I have been mucking through at work, severely under producing, which my boss has noticed. Other symptoms of Adult ADD include, gasp!, depression, anxiety and low self-esteem. Imagine that!! Not to mention, you forget shit!! Like, oh, that brand new fucking book I bought that I'm dying to read!!! And folks, let me tell you, my mind, never, ever fucking shuts up. Never. I do stupid shit like memorize license plates of cars and then look for the cars on my way to and from work. It keeps my mind busy. I daydream constantly. I will re-read the same medical record ten times before I write one sentence. And my mind runs and runs and runs. It just never shuts up. I was sleeping better when I started the Lexapro but now... forget it. Now, I will be exhausted and lay down in the bed and "bing" my eyes are open, I'm tossing and turning because my mind WON'T SHUT UP!!!! I don't obsess on one thing, I think about a million and they turn over and over and over in my mind, like a fucking B movie. So, what's the damn difference between Wellbutrin and Lexapro?? Wellbutrin is a second line medication for Adult ADD. While I took it, it took away my symptoms. When I went off, I was functioning okay, just had to work a little harder or maybe a lot harder but I didn't have the depression. Now, the Lexapro is bringing everything into focuse but is not a medication for ADD so, here I am, now I'm well enough to realize that I'm still fucked up. Isn't life just grand? I called around and found a doctor that specializes in Adult ADD and made an appointment for an intake and testing. I hope he can help me. I'm so sick of being this way. Its been almost 34 years and I think that's long enough. I just want to be able to go to work and do a good job, clean my house and spend time with my son. I really hope he can help me. By the way, I posted some new pics on my photoblog. Enjoy!

So Much For Today

It was not the greatest day, although it could have been worse. I was tired all day because I sat up until 1:30 this morning writing to AZ. I hope what I said gets his head out of his ass. I think I used those words too. Keep in mind that I love AZ very much as a friend. Sometimes I love him as more than a friend but for right now, I'm all up in the friend thing. We've watched each other make some pretty foolish choices and one in particular on his part I watched go down and wanted so much to step in and say, "Man, you're fucking up. This chick is psycho." But I didn't because honestly, I didn't think he would have listened. He debates otherwise. Anyway, when things finally came to a head, I told him what I had thought and he asked, "why didn't you say anything? You're the third person to say that." So, from that point on I decided to tell him what I saw and how I saw it in order to save him the time and expense and bullshit of figuring it out. And you know, that never fucking works. Nevertheless.... I am putting my best bitchy foot forward and telling him like it is... about him. No, he's not on drugs, he's not an alcoholic or any of that crap. By outward appearances, he looks quite normal and acts quite normal. Ahhhh my children, but what lies beneath?? Some phrases I used included the aforementioned "get your head out of your ass," "Wake the fuck up dude," and "why are you so fucking stubborn?" I'm a great friend aren't I? Trust me, if I use those phrases it means I love you and care about you and am "tired of watching you piss away the best parts of yourself. " He's done it for me, although he didn't have to use any words, he said all of that and more with just one look. I feel as though I'm just returning the favor, one friend to another. Although, I have to say, it sucks. The whole situation just sucks and I have no idea if I'm making things better or worse. Guess I'll find out next week. I had a lunch date today with the Bald UPS Guy. Sissy was so excited for me until she found out it wan't the muscular skinny Bald UPS Guy but the older, heavier Bald UPS Guy. Lord, you should have seen her face... I felt like such a loser. The lunch date was okay. The conversation wasn't all that great. He seemed like a nice guy and he's been flirting with me forever. BUT... here's where the guys can roll their eyes and tell me to get a clue. He asked when he could see me again and I told him next Tuesday. I seriously have to get my ass in gear at work, my boss is not a happy man, which means, I'll be eating in the office. Second, this is my weekend with my son and I don't go out unless its a special, special occasion when I have him. Third, on the following Monday, Gabriel, as I will now call Hyper-Boy (please make note of it) has a doctor's appointment. Now, Bald UPS Guy says, "What, I can't see you sooner than that??" Uh... no. That irritated me. I don't play games and I'm not coy. If I said "next Tuesday" I meant, "next Tuesday." I gave him the appreviated version as to why that is as I didn't feel as though after one lunch date I owed a formal one. I just hate that. Now, I know that some guys are sitting out there going, "but he's just interested in you." Well, get a clue Mr. Interested, have some respect for what I just said. Second, I picked up the newspaper and noticed when the first WVU game is going to be and mentioned I needed to get cable so I could watch the games without snow on the screen. He said, "No you don't, you can just watch the game on my big screen TV." Uh... no. Guess it didn't dawn on him that I may have my own set of friends that I watch football with. I don't like being rushed and that made me feel rushed. I don't know, it just hit me the wrong way. Like he's taking a lot for granted. I just wasn't feeling it. There was no spark. I did agree to have lunch with him next week as I have been encouraged to "give it a try." I will go with an open mind and just be myself and see what happens. Okay, I'll try to do those things but if I don't feel comfortable after the second date, I'm calling it off.