AZ

AZ called me the other day. He was showing a house in my neighborhood and decided to call me. We talked for a few minutes, then we hung up, then he called back. Not much time to say anything really. Just, "How have you been? Blah, blah, blah." But it made me think of him in deeper terms. About one of the things that he and I did together. I don’t really remember how we came to be together that night/morning. It was probably 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning as he still had long hair, which meant he was still working at the bar. I was undoubtedly in college. I would have been at the bar or met him there after closing time. Maybe I waited for him outside of his house. I love the way he kisses. Its something that I miss and wish I had. Just one more time. Every January adds one more year that we haven’t. Maybe it’s the first week in February. How time flies. We’ve known each other almost 13 years. The last time we kissed was 1995. The last time I had my mouth wrapped around his dick was December 2003. Way too long. But this happened before we stopped kissing. It was before Nate and Nate’s dad. I don’t even remember the time of year. What I do remember is laying in his king size bed. Maybe we were sweaty or it was just a combination of bar grime and lovin’ that prompted him to pull me up and out of the bed. Against my protests he pushed me into the bathroom and started the shower. He pulled me in behind him, then circled me around and lead me into the water. I remember his soapy hands starting at my neck and working their way down over my breasts, slow circles on my belly and slipping between my legs and over my thighs. I threaded my fingers in his and rubbed his hands over my nipples and then I turned and pressed my soapy body against his. I soaped his body as he had mine and then I turned and pressed my back against him as once again he prompted me under the shower spray and then we turned and rinsed his soap off. I can still fill his slick chest rubbing and sliding against my back and shoulders. My shoulders are one of my most erogenous zones. It wasn’t as much sexual though, as intimate. I know he kissed me in the shower. I know he helped dry me off and then I him. I know he took me by the hand and we went back to the bedroom, with damp bodies and wet hair. I know he laid against my back, one arm under my head, one arm across my waist, our hands entwined, his nose pressed into the hollow of my neck. He’s the only man I’ve ever bathed with and even though I know things are not going to progress or work out with us, I still miss him. I started writing him a letter on Friday, sure that I won’t have much time with Nanwrimo to write to him. Sometimes though, I don’t know what to say. Things were so uncomplicated then, even though we thought they were complicated. We both realize that now. But we both also know, we can’t live there. Our lives are here. Our lives are now. But don’t think that I wouldn’t, just for one day, that day, go back.

Yum, Yum

Since I left a bad taste in some mouths over my Osama post, I will counter that with a post about food. Yummmmm. I love food. I love good food. I love food that makes my waist expand. Yesterday, I went to the store and bought cream cheese, crabmeat and sugar to make Leese's wontons. Well, sort of a crab wonton/crab rangoon. I love crab. Love it. Used to crab in South Carolina with fishing line, chicken parts and a net. Then go home, dump them in the pot, boil, eat. YUM! One of the best crab dishes I've ever eaten was stuffed portabello mushrooms. I can't remember the guy's name that gave me the recipe. Its crabmeat, Ragu garlic cheese sauce (like for noodles), some other kind of cheese sauce, salt, pepper, bread crumbs on top, bake in the oven. Heaven. The store I go to has a very small asian section made up mostly of rice. I was able to get some duck sauce. Yummmm... peaches and pineapples... LOL! Alas! No wonton squares. They said they used to be in the frozen ravioli section but they stopped stocking them. :-( But never fear, I found a recipe for wonton and I will make my own!!! This is such a good reason to clean my kitchen. I got about half way there yesterday. I'm moving right along. Now, I'm hungry. Its just 10:00 too. I slept until 10:00 and then got up and it was 9:00. I love that!!! I think I will go ahead and mix up my crab, sugar and cream cheese and let it blend while I clean. I have no paprika and I have no cayenne to substitute so, oh well. It will be good anyway. I'm not much for extremely spicy food. Unless his name is Enrique. If they turn out any good, I will include them in my New Year's Eve feast, which normally consists of mini-weenies in sauce, homemade meatballs in barbeque sauce, devil dip (two 8 oz. packages of cream cheese, 2 cans of deviled ham, 2 mini-cans of green chilis, a few dashes or more of hot sauce, blend, eat on crackers - double recipe) I also wanted to try broccoli cheese bites and I may have pumpernickel with dill dip. Plus beer. Don't forget the beer. Now I'm really hungry. Time for coffee and oatmeal.

My "For What Its Worth"

Osama bin Laden has released a new tape. I read the commentary about it. I wasn't surprised that they said, "bin Laden appears to be in good health." You know why? Osama dropped off the radar about two minutes into Persian Gulf II and has only been seen sporadically since in undated tapes etc. Much ado made about his kidney problems and dialysis. Dialysis, requiring a machine and electricity. In a cave? No, this is not going to cause any problems for generators to be running his dialysis machine. My two cents.... just hear me out. Osama Mama has had a kidney transplant... m'kay. Now, don't tell me our intelligence would have found the great bearded one in a hospital somewhere. Money talks peeps and he's got a lot to talk with. Yeah, I can just see some hospital worker saying, "Yes, I'm going to turn the great Osama in for 1 million dollars." Someone slips him 2 million and he decides to shut up. Doctor? No problem! If he can send peeps into our own country to learn to fly planes, surely to Allah one of them could find a way into a transplant program. Transplanting a kidney has become relatively routine. For Allah's sake, they're practically selling them on the Internet!!! Osama has a lot of friends. Not just misguided Muslims, but countries. Whole countries. And money. He has a lot of money!!! Money to build his own damn hospital in a cave if he wants!! Something just tells me that if the dude hadn't got a new kidney then he wouldn't be walking around admitting he ordered planes to fly into the WTC, bitching about relatively peaceful elections in Afghanistan and dissing the Pakistanis for making his life a little bit more miserable. (Go Pakistan!) There's a difference in being insane and insanely smart (thank ya Vadergrrrl) and he's insanely smart and he's got the money to pull it off. I'm not sure if he helped or hurt the election. I think he doesn't give a shit who wins because to him, its all the same. He will continue to wreak havoc and make us look over our shoulders. Even if we capture or kill him, his legacy will live on. This wasn't meant to turn into a rant about Osama, the terrorist, the murderer. It was meant to simply say, from my point of view: a) The asshole has access to good healthcare and b) he's taken advantage of it. I say he's had a transplant. What say you?

All About MJNANPEACH

I realized that I hit 100,000 words written sometime this week. Maybe last week. I'm now at 105,891. And it only took me 6 months. So, half that is 3 months. Now, I'm going to squeeze 3 months into 30 days. *Gulp* "MikeyJames and the NannerPeach" is now listed to the left as Inanna’s NaNoWriMo. If you were on Michael’s blog the other day, then you know how this came about. If not, then here’s the story. Michael had blogged about bathroom etiquette and had gone on to discuss some of his quirks. Such as, liking prime numbers and not liking any fruit which starts with the letter "P." "Don’t care for peaches, plums, pears, papaya, pomegranates, persimmons. Pineapple’s the worst – yecch." Jack commented "LMAO. Too funny. And you don’t like peaches? Dude. I can eat a peach for hours." Michael responded with, "Jack, yeah, peaches are awright... starting to like 'em more, but put me on a desert isle w/only pineapple trees and I'd starve." I said, "... ahem, dude, I think Jack meant a different kind of peach...or is that just my dirty mind?" (To which Kate agreed later.) And Mike responded with, "Inanna, I'll be James and you be the Giant Peach." So, that’s how I got the title, "MikeyJames and the NannerPeach." Then that gave me the idea for the heroine’s name, Nanon Peche. For your French speakers you know that means, sorta, Grace Peach. Hahahaha!!! The antagonist, rather one of them, is Dutch Birne. For German speakers you’ll now Dutch means "The German" and birne means "pear." The company they work for is "Grenada Science and Technology Center." Grenada means, come on you Spanish speakers... Pomegranate. I’m sure you’re wondering about Mikey and James. Well, its probably going to be like a Larry, Daryl and Daryl thing. Haven’t quite figured that out yet, but you can bet that one of them will have the last name of "Ananas" and that’s German, French, Italian, Dutch, Norwegian for... pineapple. (Ah, the apple of pine eye) How about Kakis? Looks Greek doesn’t it? No, its French for persimmon. (Would he always wear khakis?) How about Plomme? French for plum, much better than Pflaume, which is the German version. (This has just plum tuckered me out) Well?? Yep. I need laid.

Hobbits Don't Wear Shoes

*Shameless brags ahead* I got caught. I thought trick-or-treat was tomorrow night. Not! I found out when I got to work this morning that trick-or-treat was tonight. Funny thing is, Nate decided at the last minute that he did not want to be a ninja but instead wanted to be Frodo Baggins. Lucky me, I had a brown velvet blazer in my closet that very closely resembled Frodo's. If I rolled the sleeves under it looked pretty good on Nate, even if it was a little long. I figured I had tonight to get the rest of it together. NOT! I was a little panicky, having not a lot of cash and even less time to make some semblance of a costume, while at work. I debated K-Mart and Wal-Mart and figured both were out because A) the costumes would be picked over and B) I didn’t have a lot of time. I instead ran down the street at lunch to the second-hand store. I knew exactly what I wanted... but did they have it? You would not believe... I found a cream colored woman’s shirt that closely resembled Frodo’s. It didn’t have the laces in the front, but it did look very Hobbit-ish and it had a tie in the back so I could make it tighter on Nate and the sleeves have elastic on the biceps so I could use that to shove any excess up. Sweet! Then I found a size 5 brown velvet pants. Nate wears an 8 slim but he is so thin that he can wear a five, they are just waaaaay to short. So, that would be PERFECT!!! I then found a gray sweater type vest, rather large actually with a hood on it. It zipped up the front. I unzipped it and figured it would pass for a cloak with some strategic pinning. Total cost $14.00 and I can wear the shirt and the sweater myself. *Pats self on back* I got back to the office and looked at Frodo costumes and realized I was missing the Leaf of Lorien. So, I drew one using the website picture, colored it with a green florescent marker and brought it home. I cut it out, cut out part of a Styrofoam plate to give it some body and then used beading wire to make the designs around it, the stem and the middle of the leaves. Then I colored the spines with a brown colored pencil to make it stand out and WHA LA!! The Leaf of Lorien. Nate came in and we tucked and rolled and pinned. He got a walking stick from TLC and... he was Frodo Baggins. We couldn’t find Sting, so he was without sword but he really didn’t have anywhere to carry it. Had my Mom not gotten his hair cut he would have looked even more like Frodo!! Alas though, no One Ring... maybe I can find something tonight for his Halloween party at school. And no, he didn’t wear shoes!!! (Not my idea but eventually endorsed) If I had a dollar for every time one of the retirees in my neighborhood said he was going to have pneumonia I could afford a nice dinner at a steakhouse. It was NOT COLD tonight. Yes, I know its OCTOBER!!! But, HOBBITS DON’T WEAR SHOES. Yes, Nate walked around my neighborhood without shoes for TWO HOURS!!! OH THE HUMANITY!!! I was sweating and I asked him several times if he was cold, if his feet were cold, if his feet hurt etc. No, no, no, no, no. And he just told all the peeps... Hobbits don’t wear shoes. When we got in the car to go to his dad’s, I reached over to check foot temperature. They were cool, but not cold. He said, "Wanna feel something cold?" Then he laid his ear on my arm... brrrrrrrrrrrrr. The funniest thing was there were two older kids, probably 14 or 15 years old in Scream costumes who walked by Nate and then turned around to talk to him and tell him how much they liked his costume. I swear it looked just like two Ringwraiths and Frodo. YES, I AM SHAMELESSLY BRAGGING!!! I AM THE WOMAN!!!!! I am also shamelessly tired. Oh, and Halloween Kit Kat and Laffy Taffy were the best!!! (Yes, I took pictures... of FrodoNate, not the candy)

Please Let It End Peacefully

Some of you may have read that one of the peeps who belongs to West Virginia’s Republican delegation to the Electoral College is thinking of swinging his vote. Ritchie Robb is the mayor of the neighboring town of South Charleston. He’s a good mayor and he’s been elected numerous times, at least the last 10 years, hell, maybe 20. Ahhh, the much loved Robb. Well, I don’t care much for him but that’s a personal matter. Anyway, Robb has made it clear that if President Bush wins West Virginia’s popular vote that he will NOT give him his electoral vote. OH THE HUMANITY!!!! They think that other peeps may follow suit in other states. This is how I feel about it: If Bush gets, say, 3/4 of the vote and Kerry 1/4, then by all means, cast your one vote for Kerry. If Bush gets 7/8 of the vote and Kerry 1/8, still, by all means, cast your one vote for Kerry. But... if it means an election fiasco like last year, cast your damn vote for Bush and shut up. I am so sick of this election I may slit my wrists by Tuesday at midnight, okay maybe nothing that extreme. Perhaps I'll just wish I did but to think the election may go on like it did last year is simply and grossly, unthinkable. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know... this may mean sweeping changes in the Electoral College. Robb’s actions may change how votes are counted for all eternity of America. BARF!!! I would also appreciate it if the news sources would cease "calling" states for one candidate or the other until ALL THE VOTES ARE IN!!!! What a fucocktomy that caused four years ago. If there is a distinct demarcation between the votes then... m’kay. But in West Virginia most of the votes are centered in four counties and they’re always the last to come in and it could make a huge difference, like 500,000 votes. Yet somehow I have this sinking feeling that I may want to stock up on mind-altering drugs directly after I vote so as to withstand the nail biting suspense and sure to follow finger pointing, lawsuits and Supreme Court intervention. Can’t we all just get along??? Someone pass the Xanax.

Hallllloooooscannnnn

Thanks to Leese... uh isn't that how my last post started out??? Anyway, I now have Haloscan. wOOt!!! Can't believe I actually got it right. So, should I disable Blogger comments now???

NaNoWriMo & Bloggerado

Thanks to Leese, I have signed up for NaNoWriMo. Writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I figured this is 1666.66 words per day. My post yesterday was a little over 1700, although I didn’t write it all myself, I could have written more. But assuredly writing a novel is different. It actually has to go somewhere. But where? I have a few ideas and less than a few days to get some semblance of a working outline. I thought about taking one of my screenplay ideas and writing it in novel form. Maybe then I could get the damn thing converted to a screenplay. Then, I just want to keep them as screenplays because that’s what the original intent was. Argh! I’ve written two novellas, both about 30,000 words. One of those I wrote in some obscene amount of time, like a little over two weeks. It showed too. UGH!! It sucked so bad.... I liked the story, I loved my characters but I wrote it shitty. I LOVED the story... a fantasy setting. I’ve been meaning to do a serious re-write... My second one I took more time on and I’m very fond of it. It was a nice erotica romance piece. I sent it to a publisher and got a nice letter back with my query. They thought the subject matter was too serious for they type of novellas they were looking for and encouraged me to flesh it out for someone else but resubmit to them with something a little more light-hearted. Dummy me, I have yet to do that. Maybe this is my chance... Stephen King always said to reduce your novel by 10% or 20% or something like that. That would only drop me to 40 - 45,000 words but hell... so its about 10,000 more words than you’re supposed to have. That’s what editing is for. Although being single is not the optimum time to write erotica. Walking around horny is bad enough but sizzling sex scenes with your hero is pure torture. The last one I wrote was so hot, I had to turn the A/C up. But, it’s still a thought. In order to do this, the first thing is to fix my damn desk. For some reason the thingy my keyboard sits on broke right off. Perhaps it was that fat ass 15lb. cat of mine who is convinced he is still a kitten. For whatever reason, there is no way I can make any type of serious play to get this finished if my back begins to spasm to the point I can’t breath. So, let me see what I can do with this thing. Well, that endeavor appears as useful as tits on a boar hog. Looks like I’ll just have to have muscle spasms. Think I’ll write a nice erotic fantasy. I mean "fantasy" as in Tolkien fantasy not lusty fantasy. But lusty doesn’t hurt either. Let’s see... I’ve flirted with the UPS man, some guy on the Interstate, Jack, Daz and Mike. I read Fleece’s new post at her new establishment. MY GOD!! Read it now!! I was so hot and bothered I forgot to write down the URL. So, go to Dastard’s blog and look in the comments of the last post where she linked it. Butterflyage!! BUTTERFLYAGE!!! Don’t suppose that is something I can request in my Christmas stocking huh? At least not from my parents. Maybe I’ll get lucky and have a boyfriend who would like to buy me such things and take me out and tease me until... okay, well, just rock my world m’kay?!? Where have all the naughty men gone???? (Sang to the tune of "Guess He’d Rather Be In Colorado") I guess I’d rather be in Bloggerado Where the men are like the ones we dream of in the night as the rain falls down Once again we are bloggin’ Once again we are commentin’ To the friends we’ve made here’n the blogosphere I guess I’d rather be in Bloggerado Where I’d rather read the posts than lift a finger to work the whole day long In the dawn, we are checkin’ In the dawn, we are clickin’ To read an old post when there’s nothing new overnight Guess I’d rather be in Bloggerado Guess I’d rather be in Bloggerado *That’s all I got!*

God Bless The Child

I saw my cousin K. today. She updated me on Gabriel. Remember little man Gabe? 2lbs. 6oz.? He has been doing very, very good until recently. He weighs 4lbs. 2oz. now and has been breathing on his own. Now he has contracted an infection. They believe it may be meningitis and he has been placed back on the respirator. I think its just because he has fought so long and hard that his little body is just worn out. I told K. that maybe he just needs a little rest and that’s what the respirator will do for him. Just another battle for Little Man. Prayers and thoughts are appreciated. I mentioned in Jack’s comments that he may consider submitting some of his work to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. I saw several upcoming book titles that they are accepting writings for that reminded me of several of you. Here’s a partial list that I took from the website: Adopted Soul Alzheimer’s Soul Boy's Soul Breast Cancer Survivor's Soul Cat Lover's Soul Celtic Soul Cowboy's Soul Crafters and Quilter’s Soul Dieter's Soul Divorced Soul Dog Lover's Soul Girl's Soul Life Lessons Rescue Worker's Soul Scrapbooker's Soul Sisters' and Brothers' Soul Southern Soul Texan's Soul Submit, submit, submit peeps!!! I have signed up for NaNoWrMo ... I do have an idea... I can’t figure out how to put the little icon on my blog so if anybody knows... let me know... m’kay??? Please, check out my OMA! post below... Today’s Song of the Day is: God Bless The Child - Billie Holiday (For Gabriel) Them that's got shall get Them that's not shall lose So the Bible said and it still is news Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own Yes, the strong gets more While the weak ones fade Empty pockets don't ever make the grade Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own Money, you've got lots of friends Crowding round the door When you're gone, spending ends They don't come no more Rich relations give Crust of bread and such You can help yourself But don't take too much Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own Mama may have, Papa may have But God bless the child that's got his own That's got his own He just worry 'bout nothin' Cause he's got his own

OMA!

Yesterday I went to see my parents and while I was there they wanted me to call Germany so we could speak en masse to my German parents. The family is doing, eh, not so good. Oma, who just turned 88 (not 87) in August has not been feeling too well. Additionally, her husband, Fritz, who suffers from Alzheimers and diabetes and has been living in a nursing home, had a stroke last week. He responded at first and knew who she was but he is now non-responsive. I can only say that I am very sorry for this. Fritz was quite a character. Not so much as my Oma but he could hold his own. Like my Papa’s father, Fritz is a veteran of WWII, but I think Oma deserves the Medal of Honor. There are simply some things I don’t know, nor does my Papa. He was extremely young, probably about 3 ½. At the beginning of WWII, Oma, her husband (not Fritz) and their two sons lived in East Prussia. The northwestern area of East Prussia was located along the Baltic Sea and flanked on the Southern and Eastern borders by Russia, Poland and parts of Lithuania and to the southwest by West Prussia. East Prussia was the eastern most land area of Germany and basically operated as an independent state, with Berlin acting as its capital as well as that of Germany. That part is a little confusing to me and I may update that with better information later. However, I do know that this area of Europe is where my host father was born. During WWII, Papa’s father was sent to the Russian front lines to accompany ammunition transports. Regardless, the Red Army continued to advance and in early 1945 they were close enough to cause panic among the inhabitants of East Prussia and many began leaving despite weather, at least in Breslau, now Wroclaw, which stands 125 miles due East of Dresden, of minus 20 degrees. As the Red Army drew closer, Oma had no choice but to take the last train available and make the trip with other refugees to the nearest safe haven, Dresden. It is unknown what type of conditions they traveled in but most of the trains were over-crowded and rife with lice, hunger and filth. Dresden is located about 20 miles north of the Czech Republic border and about 120 miles south of Berlin in the Eastern part of Germany. From East Prussia it was roughly, give or take a hundred miles, 350 miles. From there, another 300 or so to Frankfurt or just beyond as the case may be. The story, as it has been pieced together, is that Oma and the boys arrived in Dresden sometime before or on February 13, 1945. For WWII buffs or simply those who remember Dresden from their history books, February 13th is the day the Allied bombers basically leveled 15 square kilometers of Dresden. The bombing of Dresden is a very controversial subject. Propagandists used photographs from it to explain away the Holocaust, stating the Allies used the photographs of their own bombing raid to support evidence of the Holocaust. (Shite!) Anyway, whether or not you agree with whether Dresden was a military target or simply a hospital city with more refugees, is, naturally a matter of opinion. What I will do is try to at least explain what happened and try to just state the facts: From wikipedia: The fire-bombing consisted of dropping large amounts of high-explosive to expose the timbers within buildings, followed by incendiary devices (fire-sticks) to ignite them and then more high-explosives to hamper the efforts of the fire services. This eventually created a self-sustaining 'fire storm' with temperatures peaking at over 1500 EC. After the area caught fire, the air above the bombed area became extremely hot and rose rapidly. Cold air then rushed in at ground level from the outside and people were sucked into the fire. 3,907 tons of bombs were dropped. Out of 28,410 houses in the inner city of Dresden, 24,866 were destroyed. An area of 15 square kilometers was totally destroyed, among that: 14,000 homes, 72 schools, 22 hospitals, 19 churches, 5 theaters, 50 bank and insurance companies, 31 department stores, 31 large hotels, and 62 administration buildings. Alexander McKee, Dresden 1945: the Devil's Tinderbox (1982) "From a firestorm there is small chance of escape. Certain conditions had to be present, such as the concentration of high buildings and a concentration of bombers in time and space, which produced so many huge fires so rapidly and so close together that the air above them super-heated and drew the flames out explosively. On the enormous scale of a large city, the roaring rush of heated air upwards developed the characteristics and power of a tornado, strong enough to pick up people and suck them into the flames." Major-General Kehrl, report on the firestorm in Hamburg in August, 1943. "Before half an hour had passed, the districts upon which the weight of the attack fell were transformed into a lake of fire covering an area of twenty-two square kilometres. The effect of this was to heat the air to a temperature which at times was estimated to approach 1,000 degrees centigrade. A vast suction was in this way created so that the air "stormed through the streets with immense force, bearing upon it sparks, timber and roof beams and thus spreading the fire still further and further till it became a typhoon such as had never before been witnessed, and against which all human resistance was powerless." Trees three feet thick were broken off or uprooted, human beings were thrown to the ground or flung alive into the flames by winds which exceeded 150 miles an hour. The panic-stricken citizens knew not where to turn. Flames drove them from the shelters, but high-explosive bombs sent them scurrying back again. Once inside, they were suffocated by carbon-monoxide poisoning and their bodies reduced to ashes as though they had been placed in a crematorium, which was indeed what each shelter proved to be." Margaret Freyer was living in Dresden during the firestorm created on 13th February, 1945. "The firestorm is incredible, there are calls for help and screams from somewhere but all around is one single inferno. To my left I suddenly see a woman. I can see her to this day and shall never forget it. She carries a bundle in her arms. It is a baby. She runs, she falls, and the child flies in an arc into the fire. Suddenly, I saw people again, right in front of me. They scream and gesticulate with their hands, and then - to my utter horror and amazement - I see how one after the other they simply seem to let themselves drop to the ground. (Today I know that these unfortunate people were the victims of lack of oxygen). They fainted and then burnt to cinders. Insane fear grips me and from then on I repeat one simple sentence to myself continuously: "I don't want to burn to death". I do not know how many people I fell over. I know only one thing: that I must not burn." The number of causalities suffered in Dresden will never be known. With the huge influx of refugees fleeing the advance of the Red Army, it is impossible to know how much the population of Dresden had grown from its normal 600,000 people. I’ve read close to one million. Estimates range from the conservative of 25,000 dead and 30,000 wounded to the exaggeration of a quarter to half a million people following the raids. Many people were simply cremated or melted due to the intense temperatures. Others suffocated due to the lack of oxygen as the fire sucked all oxygen from even the cellars and shelters. The main train station in the area was burning. The fire raged all the way to the Elbe and a huge garden area where many had gathered who had survived the first wave of the bombing. It is unknown where Oma and her sons hid. She refuses to speak of it. I do not know if her youngest son was even alive at this time. Many died from the cold, malnutrition and childhood ailments. But she and my Papa did survive. By April 1945, they had made their way the 300 miles to the outskirts of Frankfurt. Papa’s father arrived on May 8th, V-E Day, having received a "command" by the United States Army to travel there. In reality, he had simply thrown his rifle down and started walking. When he met up with American troops he stated his intent and was given a pass. Why is unknown. Upon learning of his youngest son’s death, Papa’s father abandoned the family. Oma spent a lot of time in Frankfurt trying to procure food. There is a story my Papa tells about his first encounters with Americans but I’ll save that for later. Oma was able to find employment in a garment factory of sorts and ironed most of her days. She suffers horrible arthritis in her hand, elbow and shoulder because of it. She married Fritz later in life. The Oma of today is as opinionated and old-fashioned as grandmothers come. When I got ready to return to the States after my year there, she presented me with a pewter plate with the skyline of Frankfurt on it. She said, "So you don’t forget me." As if I ever could. It isn’t difficult to see where my Papa gets his personality and sense of humor. Oma punctuates her sentences with a firm "Doch (Absolutely!)," whether she’s discussing the amount of snow on the ground, the price of tomatoes or what ungrateful grandchildren she has. *wink* We grandchildren do our best to hide our smiles and giggles and I think she does it on purpose. And she and my real father.... OH THE HUMANITY!!! When my parents visited Germany in 1999, they immediately became best buddies and would sit and talk for hours. I would hate to think what things they agreed on, as he speaks NO German and she speaks NO English. Somehow I’d like to think it was the same thing. So, that’s my Oma in a nutshell... or is that a nut in a shell?

Fear Not Bostonians...

I will make it north... will probably just be in the Spring. (Two Times A Ladyyyy...) That means, since BLOGGER has eaten my last two posts, I have learned my lesson and am now writing everything and then re-typing or cutting and pasting. Grrrrrrr... In preparation for my post this evening... Books of the Day: Slaughter-House Five - Kurt Vonnegut (Published 1969) The Devil’s Tinderbox: Dresden 1945 (Published 2000) Two accounts of the burning of Dresden. Album of the Day: War - U2 (Released 1983) The title says it all. One of my favorite U2 albums. Song of the Day: Edelweiss (From the Sound of the Music Soundtrack - 1965) People ask me about Edelweiss and I’m sorry to tell them its not a German folk song. It was written by Rodgers and Hammerstein. Edelweiss is a flower and can be read about here. Yes, I love The Sound of Music and yes, I can sing every song. Climb every mountain peeps! Gee, I wonder if I’ve given enough hints about my post tonight....

Hmmm.... (Trying to Get Out the Vote)

I had another post up but it made the text of my blog sink waaaaaaaaaaay to the bottom. I don't know why. And it was funny shite too!! Well, IMHO. Soooo.... dunno. Look for my "Female Locker Room - The Series" soon. In the meantime, my friend Kev is in quite a quandry. This chica where he works at is fast becoming a "stalker-in-waiting." Kev is not a friendly guy. He would pass for "extremely grumpy" about five out of seven days a week... the five that he works. Very cute guy though. I should know. I adore him myself, just not to the point of stalking. So, I have offered my services at meeting the bitch head-on. Meaning, I go to his office to "pick him up" for lunch. I have a few options here. I have one skirt that is fairly short but has a slit up the thigh so that if the wind blows the right way you get a show. The other is a plaid looking skirt that looks more like a belt than a skirt... in a very schoolgirl kinda way, minus the thigh-high hose. Of course, I have the 3-inch "come-fuck-me" heels and a nice sweater which molds itself to my Barbie curves. (Did you know that women built like Barbie have better fertility? I don't feel so bad about having narrow hips now.) Now you get to vote. What will it be? Slit up to there or the schoolgirl skirt? Don't worry, I got the legs to pull it off. Cast your vote!! I think this is might be a better election than the one coming up. And just to give you a reason to play, I'll post a pic of the outcome.... errr with me in it.

Ahhhh Shit!

Troy has informed me that the Air Force would much rather he spend his time with them as opposed to me. Therefore, no Boston for Nanny. I had mixed feelings going into it due to a telephone call we had.... so... its disappointing but ... I guess a mixed blessing. So Fleece, Sloth and Dastard must carry on without me. LOL! My desk broke or rather, part of it. The part that holds my keyboard and mouse. Sux. I have zero energy today. Nada, don't wanna do nuttin'. I took Nate to bowling this afternoon. He's getting better. He's using the bumpers but he's bumping less and less. One of T-Bird's friends has her kids there too and she made a comment about how her son was only three points behind Nate and he WASN'T using the bumpers. I gave her my best, "I hear what you're saying, but I really don't care," response. That's not what I'm there for, nor what Nate is there for. I could give a fuck less who wins. Its not like we're playing the fucking World Series or Super Bowl and even they are ONLY GAMES!! Yes! *GASP* ONLY A FUCKING GAME!! I don't take Nate so he can feel superior or beat anyone. I want him to have a good time and improve his own skills. Bowling at his age is not what I would call a team sport. Plus, her son has been bowling for two or three years... Nate's been bowling three weeks? And he missed a week... Soooooo... don't get it. Maybe I'm just not rabid enough.... just my attitude about peeps who compare kids and try to take away from MY kid. Fuck off lady, I would have never said anything about your son, I just encourage him as I do my own. Can't wait for baseball next Spring.

Should I? Can I?

I found tickets online for $700.00 a piece from Cincinnati to Frankfurt, Germany. I would have to purchase them by December 2nd. We normally get our bonuses at Thanksgiving. Bonuses are almost a lock this year because we've had a great year. The reasons I shouldn't: 1. I could use $1400.00 for something else, like catching up on bills and feeling a little more secure. 2. I could have a little nest egg for expenses that crop up, like tires and oil changes and school lunches. 3. It would pay for about three semesters of classes at the local college. 4. I could pay off about half of what is owed on my car. The reasons I should: 1. My Oma is 87 years old. She won't live forever. 2. This would be the first time my entire family, the German one, would be together since 1991 when my baby sister got married. Well, Oma wasn't there, but the rest of us were. 3. You only live once. 4. I haven't seen my nephews since 2000, and they live in Texas! 5. Nate and I could fly roundtrip to Texas for half the cost of flying to Germany but that then negates 3/4 of the family. 6. My brother, the German one, said he will keep my secret so it would be a major surprise for my parents and we can stay with him. 7. My real mom said she would ditch Christmas gifts and give us cash for the trip. 8. The trip wouldn't use up all of my bonus. I would still have a little over $600.00 for bills. 9. It makes me cry to think of going home for Christmas. I think that kind of made my mind up. Now, to get Nate's dad to agree to give up Christmas....

Things I Thought About On My Way To PetSmart

1. I was glad Nate did not have any homework tonight. > 2. Nate's dad was the one who talked me out of applying for the FBI. > 3. I hung out with a female ATF agent for a while who told me her easiest buys were while she was seven months pregnant because they never suspected her. > 4. I figured out in college I would not make it as a profiler in the FBI because psychology was a total bore. > 5. I failed Psychology 101 when I took it the first time. I failed it because I hated the teacher and quit going to class. > 6. I had the opportunity three times to attend the local police academy. Unfortunately, it was when I was six and eight months pregnant and two weeks post-partum. They took me off the list at my request. That used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. > 7. I was afraid to come in my house when I got home because I knew the cats were out of food. There's eight of them and one of me. Not going there. > 8. Although I've tried not to feel like an idiot, I do. > 9. I'm glad the Sox won. Derek Jeter is now free to romance me. > 10. I really don't think that will ever happen. Although I try to keep an open mind, deep down I feel he may be one spoiled, conceited dude. > 11. I heard a song called, "Ain't Comin' Home" and I made note to look it up when I got home. Its by Silvertide. They just released a disc in September. I like them. Thumbs up. > 12. I heard a song by Styx on the way home too. It reminded me of Tommy Shaw, which reminded me of Damn Yankees, which reminded me of JP because of a comment I made on his blog. > 13. I miss being kissed. > 14. I mused over my favorite Metallica song from "Metallica." I've narrowed it down between Wherever I May Roam, Of Wolf and Man and My Friend of Misery. Then again... eh, feel free to vote. > 15. I thought about Jack and hope he is holding up. > 16. I thought about Trashman getting hit by a deer. > 17. I thought about going to bed early tonight. > 18. I thought about sex. > 19. I thought about sex again. > 20. Its none of ya'lls business who I thought of having sex with. > 21. I thought about quitting blogging. I doubt it. I think I'm just depressed and to stop writing would be a very bad thing right now. > 22. I hate traffic.

All Quiet On The Eastern Front

*Religious Content - Don't Like It? Turn Back NOW* Thank goodness that's over. Yes, that baseball game. I spent most of late yesterday evening re-freshing my computer screen, aggravating my carpal tunnel syndrome and that bruise I got on my wrist yesterday. I was riveted because I thought maybe the Yankees would pull it out of their ass in the bottom of the 9th and I didn't want to miss it. It would have been better to have watched it on TV but... oh well. Chandra over at JP's blog said that it would cool if the Astros and the Red Sox were in the World Series since that's where Bush and Kerry are from. I think it would be funny but seriously, I'm sick of the election and just wish it were tomorrow. I love the fact that West Virginia was a swing state, but now we're not, but we might be tomorrow. Pfffffffffft!!! I know a couple of swingers in WV, just not along the political lines. I'm feeling better today since my bout of honesty. This too shall pass. Life cycles... everything cycles. Warning: Wiccan Ideology Ahead. Halloween approaches, which is the beginning of the year for us. Halloween is a time to remember those who have passed before us in the previous year. Its actually a fairly somber occasion. Because peeps don't like us, we had to relegate ourselves to the UU in town last year. We used to hold services at a park outside of the city but the Christians got upset that we were on "their" hallowed premises after dark and near their Haunted Trail. Yeah, they can have a haunted trail but we can't hold a religious service. Eh. The joke's on them. We couldn't use wine in the park but we did in the church... so, nyah. We could have used wine in the park and gotten into some boosh-boosh about it being for a religious service blah, blah, blah, blah but that's the Wiccan's who want to piss off the establishment and further their own agenda. I'm all for religious freedom but I feel no need to buck any and every thing out there. Besides, it was feckin' 20 degrees outside!!! I bet the cops miss us though, we used to give them warm spiced cider. Digression again. Anyway, the Wiccan Calendar begins on October 31st with Halloween. Its followed by Yule on the Winter Solstice, then Imbolc on February 2nd, Ostara, which falls on the Spring Equinox, normally around March 21st, Beltane, which is either celebrated on April 30th or May 1st, followed by Litha on the Summer Soltice in June, Lughnasadh on July 31st and Mabon on the Autumn Equinox. So cycles the seasons, so cycles the Earth, so cycles life. I see the Canadian Christians are a might bit concerned at Halloween being on Sunday. The article is here. Notice that we witches aren't the least bit concerned that those Christians are going to have Sabbath on OUR holiest day. *Rolls eyes* I hope you weren't expecting me to be PC about this whole thing. If you hit The Witches Voice, there is a neat article on courting the religious vote. Someone actually made up a spell to assist John Kerry. Hmmmmm.... If you want to read something really funny about Christians and Halloween, its here. Here's a preview: Thou Shall Not Change Halloween for "Christian" Reasons Why in God's name are people trying to move Halloween this year to October 30? By Matt Hutaff Oct 19, 2004 "[Sunday is] a day for the good Lord, not for the devil," Barbara Braswell of Newnan, Georgia exclaimed last Friday. Oh, really? I love the audacity and ignorance of the typical churchgoer, in particular brain-dead rednecks who actually think that God prefers which day of the week one prays to Him. You'd think that the sincerity of the prayer would overshadow what calendar day it was e-mailed to Heaven, but then thinking enters the equation, a step most fundamentalists bypass when it comes to their faith. Matt goes on to explain that he was previously a... FUNDAMENTALIST!! If you want to argue religion with a Wiccan make sure they are NOT a reformed fundamentalist. You. Will. Lose. Its actually quite hilarious. I've seen this happen. Although my friend D. was not a fundie, he was a staunch, staunch member of the church and knows his shit. I watched him leave the mother-in-law of my nabes with her mouth hanging open as they traded scriptures as to who was right and who was wrong. We're all right peeps. I have no desire to trade scriptures, barbs or otherwise about religious principles and I figure if you give them enough rope they'll hang themselves. I don't owe anyone an explanation as to why I believe the way I do. I do. That's it. When D. and I were having a, I believe, Litha ritual in my front yard, the mother-in-law of the nabes showed up and her husband had to drag her away as she kept inquiring what we were doing. I told her we were in the middle of a religious ceremony and could she please go away for a bit. I think it was pretty evident something was going on since I had half a dozen candles lit, my alter smack dab in the middle of the yard and oh, yeah, that robe thing miiiight have given it away. Or was I wearing blue? D. had the robe, I normally wear blue, except at Halloween. Thereafter I cleaned up as she and D. discussed religion. UGH! The part that made me turn and take notice was when she said, "Well, you all can't hurt me! I'm washed in the blood of the lamb of Jesus Christ." This is when D. stepped aside and allowed the Goddess of the house to take over. I calmly and politely informed her that I had no idea who she was, what she was about or otherwise had any intentions of doing any harm to her as it was AGAINST MY RELIGION!!! But, I will guarantee you this... if I wanted to, if I really wanted to... I could. If I wanted to accept the consequences of my actions threefold, I most certainly could. Yeah, I can be that mean. Don't think the thought doesn't go through my head. Actually I heard from a very good source that her husband was asked to leave their last church for, ahem, sexual indiscretions. *Raised eyebrow, knowing smirk/sneer which someone would probably love to wipe off my face* She also tried to draw me into a religious discussion later which I promptly halted by telling her that I was not D. and I felt no need to explain nor justify my religion to her or anyone else. Given the nasty look she got I'm surprised she didn't cross herself or something. She may be "washed in the blood of the lamb of Jeeesus Christ!" but I stand in the light of the Goddess and it means as much to me as her lamb's blood does to her. Here's an article about the Tulsa Pagan Pride Day. The PPD that almost wasn't. It was the first PPD to have an injunction filed against it to prevent it from occuring. If you don't feel like reading all the legal mumbo-jumbo, long story short is: They moved it to a different location, had 10 vendors and donated approximately 200 POUNDS OF FOOD TO THE TULSACARES FOOD BANK. Peeps who try to stand in the way of good works should be doused with boogers and snot. I was going to say pig's blood but I felt sorry for the pigs. There was enough bloodshed above with the lambs. Here's the song of the day: Witchy Woman - The Eagles (from Eagles - Released 1972) Well I know you want a lover, let me tell your brother, she's been sleeping in the Devil's bed. And there's some rumors going round someone's underground she can rock you in the nighttime 'til your skin turns red woo hoo witchy woman see how high she flies woo hoo witchy woman she got the moon in her eye *Wink*

Bitter, Cynical & Sexual - That's Me

* LENGTH WARNING* Oh boy, what a fucking day. Things just keep getting better. To hell with my affirmations, not really in the mood to try and be sweet, gentle, kind and positive. Fuck it. I guess we bloggers are used to the rants of life. Fuck that. Rant my ass. This is reality. So, Cattiva made mention of the fact, that yes, I have been talking about sex a lot. And at first, it hurt my feelings... in a way. And I got defensive and then I got worried, "What the fuck am I doing telling all these peeps this shit?" Well, that answer is simple. I’m not. You’re reading it but for it to do me any good at all, I can’t worry about what you think of me or my problems or what kind parent I am or not. In order for this to do what I wanted it to do to start with, then I have to be honest, with myself. This is how I figure out all the shit swirling around in my mind... I write. I write a lot. It may change from day to day but that's life. Deal. I used to write letters but that’s been replaced by blogging. Whenever I would write letters I would get no feedback. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes its bad. And frankly if I didn’t want some kind of input then I wouldn’t enable my comments. I do have that option, as we all do. Sometimes I wonder if the blogosphere isn’t a misnomer and should be called the supportosphere. Its like we’re one big dysfunctional family (nice way to put it Jay) and we’re all in some kind of rehab/support group. Hate me for that if you want. Don’t really care right now. Its like that bumper sticker "I know how you feel but I really don’t care." That’s reality. Its reality that we feel validated in our feelings. I don’t see a damn thing wrong with that. Its been an ongoing topic at times as to why we, in so many ways, know more about each other than the "real" people in our lives. But this is another reality. We treat each other with more respect at times than we probably do the other people in our lives because we pick and choose when we want to deal with each other, when we want to "listen" (read) about the problems, joys and funny ass shit in our lives. We don’t come knocking on each others’s doors, for the most part, like T-Bird did me yesterday and got her head taken off at the shoulders because I was being Mommy Dearest. I digress, nice topic but not really what I came to talk about. What I came to talk about was being sexual and being cynical and bitter and hateful. Why? Because I am all those things and I am none of those things. Why have I been talking about sex a lot? Because I’m stressed and I’m tired. Unlike other people in the world the more stressed I get and the more tired I get the more I want sex. Unfortunately or fortunately, I haven’t figured out which one, I also get a hell of a lot more picky and fickle about who I have sex with. My mood is such that if I can’t have who or what I want, then I don’t want any of it. Compounding that problem is I can’t have who or what I want. So, there ya have it, I’m stuck. Further compounding this scenario is the reality that has been pointed out to me by, not one, but two men in my life, both of which have absolutely nothing to gain by blowing sunshine up my ass or twisting the truth for their own means. I’m damaged goods. No, they didn’t put it that way but that’s the reality. I have a reminder for men that I’m not pure as driven snow, I’m not lily-white and his name is Nate. In specific reference to someone that I am very interested in pursuing a relationship with that won’t give me the time of day (yeah, the arm guy), one of the above male friends made this observation (which is basically word for word what the other one said, and hell, they don’t even know each other.) Even if he is unattached, and would be otherwise interested in having a relationship with you, you need to accept that the fact you have Nate (and no other reason), might be the factor in whether or not they pursue it. Right or wrong, that is going to weigh heavily in any man's mind. It has nothing to do with you, only with what they perceive to be "too much" for them to deal with at this point in their lives. And if that *is* the case, I think it makes the decision easy for you. I don't think you'd want someone who is less concerned about your son than you are. But that is going to be the case with most men, sad but true. I swear, they both said the exact same thing, just in different words. And you know what? That makes me sad and yes, bitter and cynical. My other male friend added insult to injury by also stating that men are the most selfish creatures on the face of the Earth and they do not want to share you with anyone and furthermore want no reminders that there was ever another man in your life and that’s exactly what Nate is, a reminder. Well, fuck that. Do I think that applies to all men? Of course not. The majority? Now, that’s a toss-up. The majority of the men I’ve had in my life? Yeah, appears to be fairly true. Even his own father. That’s right. Nate’s dad could not handle our child taking time away from our relationship... what was left of it, which was about nothing. That was a whole huge fiasco which I learned a lot from. No matter what a man says, the divorce must be finalized. That’s what I learned. Separated don’t mean shit... m’kay? Learn grasshoppers from my mistake. Yeah, it turned out pretty well in the end... at least for some of us. His now ex-wife, for good, was released from a horribly emotionally abusive relationship and she’s thanked me a thousand times for it. Now is that fucked up or what? I got Nate. We came out ahead. That’s reality. Its hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It is the hardest thing I will ever do. So, yeah, I can understand someone not wanting to get mixed up in it. Especially someone who has no intentions of ever having kids of their own. I’m bitter because if I’ve learned nothing else from blogging, its to look past the plain brown wrapper and see the gift inside. I’m bitter because I don’t feel like I’ll ever be afforded the same consideration. I’m cynical that I will ever find someone who can do that. In conversations I’ve had with another male friend he told me, "Anna, you’re just intense, really intense. You’re passionate. Most guys just aren’t strong enough to handle you." Another guy friend of mine said, "You’re a hard ass girl. You take no shit." Yes, I’m intense. Yes, I’m passionate. But I’m not a hard ass and I’ve taken a lot of shit in my life. What I am is cautious and cynical. I probably do scare men away. I’m 5'3" ½ inches of intense, passionate woman. I’ve heard, more than once, that’s intimidating. Ah, let’s add on my "extreme intelligence." I’ve heard that’s intimidating too. Let’s see, what other theories may I expound upon... oh, the one where men would feel like they were just undeserving of me because I AM ALL THAT. All that being the exact same things listed above but then throw in my tits, legs and beauty. Well, now that’s makes me feel like I can’t win for losing. So, I get rid of my kid, I water down my passion, my intensity and act dumb and much more deserving of them than they do me and I’ll be able to land a man? What kind of man exactly would I "land?" Not one I want. I. WOULD. RATHER. BE. ALONE. My intense, passionate, intelligent, bitter, cynical, beautiful ass would RATHER. BE. ALONE. I cannot, will not and would not change the circumstances of my life. I am what I am. My life is what it is. Today I’m bitter and cynical. It will cycle just like everything else does. I’m not perfect, never professed to be, never will be, don’t want to be. I don’t want some guy who looks and me and thinks, "God, I just don’t deserve that!" I want a man who looks at me and says, "Man, my ship has come in! All those crappy relationships were just practice for this one and I deserve everything she has to offer. I am the luckiest man alive." And I want to say that too. Days like today make me want to either crawl away in a hole and say "Fuck the world!" Or, walk outside and shout to the wind and the earth and anyone who will listen, "You win!! I give up!! Stop the madness!! Just stop the world and let me get off!! UNCLE!! I said, UNCLE DAMNIT!!!" And I want to fall to my knees and give up. Just give up. And find some peace with giving up. But I never have. Instead I drag myself up by my bootstraps and I slog forward because it just isn’t in my nature to give up. I’m too intense to give up. I’m too passionate to give up. I’m a persistent, stubborn kind of woman, not to mention, I’ll whip your ass at Trivial Pursuit (as long as its not the TV version. I hate that one!) I have a child to raise with all the passionate intensity I have. Can’t handle it? Oh well. Thanks for being honest... now move on. Finally, finally, finally figured out a song of the day... and since this post isn’t quite long enough, I’ll post the lyrics too. You’ve Got Another Thing Coming – Judas Priest (from Rocka Rolla - Released 1974) One life I'm gonna live it up I'm taking flight Said I'll never get enough Stand tall, I'm young And kinda proud I'm on top as long As the music's loud If you think I'll sit around As the world goes by You're thinking like a fool Cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune Waiting to be had If you think I'll let it go You're mad You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming That's right Here's where the talking ends Well, listen, this night There'll be some action spent Drive hard I'm calling all the shots I got an ace card Coming down on the rocks If you think I'll sit around While you chip away my brain Listen, I ain't fooling and You'd better think again Out there is a fortune Waiting to be had If you think I'll let it go You're mad You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming In this world we're living in We have our share of sorrow Answer now is don't give in Aim for a new tomorrow Oh, so hot No time to take a rest, yeah Act tough Ain't room for second best Real strong Got me some security Hey, I'm a big smash I'm going for infinity, yeah If you think I'll sit around As the world goes by You're thinking like a fool Cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune Waiting to be had If you think I'll let it go You're mad You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming You've got another thing Coming on you You've got another thing coming Yeah, it's coming up You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming You've got another thing coming.....

To Hell With Me and My Whining

Go see my Sister... Sister Moon and congratulate her on her wonderful, wonderful news. COMPLY!!!

Let's All Take A Deep Cleansing Breath....

Things in my home did not improve overnight and this morning was an unmitigated disaster. Nate messed around and wasn't following instructions to put his shoes on so I applied hand to ass treatment. The palm of my hand connected solidly with his ass cheek, however, he's so thin and bony and my wrist is so thin and bony that they also connected. I guarantee my fucking wrist feels a lot worse than his ass-end. Sigh. Then I got one of those sweet calls from a collection agency wanting Nate's school lunch bill paid. I told him the truth, I didn't know how I was going to pay it and I was trying like hell to work it into my non-existent budget. He said, "I will note your refusal to pay." Wha??? Before I could say that I had every intention of paying, I just didn't know how or when, he hung up on me. OH. MY. GOD. LIVID does not begin to describe my reaction. I think if the cordless phone had been in my hand I would have broken a window out of my house. I have calmed down a bit but don't think I will take that. I believe in paying my bills. I know peeps don't believe that because other peeps will do anything to keep from paying up. If I didn't want to pay my bills I certainly wouldn't have gone to credit counseling to help me pay them off. Filing bankruptcy would have been much easier and I wouldn't be busting my ass to pay shit off. But I don't believe in making other peeps responsible for my fuck-ups, nor my son's medical bills or anything else. I believe in paying my own way, regardless of how much I have to sacrifice to do it. I think if things were much, much worse, then yes, I would have but things are always manageable in my eyes. So, what will I do? First, I'm going to calm down. Second, I'm going to review the collection procedure law. Third, I'm going to obtain the name of the representative's supervisor and his or her supervisor. Fourth, I will write a letter detailing the conversation and the misrepresentation of what was stated and letting them know that the ONLY option I have is to wait until I get my bonus in November or December to pay off the debt. That's the ONLY option I have. If that's not good enough, then they can sue me and I'd like to find something for them to collect off of. My car isn't paid for, my house isn't paid for... and I doubt I'll be selling either one, so placing a lien against the property won't due them much good either. I'm so much easier to get along with when you don't hang up on me and treat me like a person. I don't like feeling this way and its detrimental to everything around me. Nothing is worse than walking around with a scowl that my boss can see in his office with his door closed. I just read my affirmations and try very hard to live by them. Here's a few in lieu of song, album and book of the day: 1. I'm the only one who can take control of my life. 2. Be a mirror that makes everyone look good. 3. Don't give up. 4. Smile, no one likes a sourpuss. 5. You have to be positive to draw positivity to you. 6. Treat people with all the respect, dignity and caring you would want to be treated with, even if they are assholes because to do any less makes you one of them. (This is the hardest one!!) 7. Make sure you're part of the solution and not part of the problem. 8. Look in the mirror, this is the person who can empower you. 9. Standing up for yourself doesn't mean you have to be cruel. 10. Always temper your emotions with logic and reason. 11. Don't jump to conclusions, ask questions. (This isn't very easy either) Breathe in, breathe out....

Bad Girl

If you want to know about how mad Nate made me and what a schmuck his sperm donor is, you can page down. I was pretty mad and feeling sorry for myself when I wrote it but that's what blogging is for. Since I ended my tirade I've just been a bad,wicked, Nanny and it had nothing to do with sex. Maybe I shouldn't have told you that and you could have just used your imaginations. Oh well. So, what have I done to be such a naughty girl? Well... I've been ogling arms. There's this thing I like in missionary position where the guy is braced up on his arms and my legs are wrapped around him... okay, I just like that but something that I discovered for the very first time earlier this year is just to grab a hold of those arms. So, *blush* I've been ogling arms and not just any arms, but beautiful, muscular arms. Not overly muscular but just "man muscular." The kind where it looks like he works out but he's not pumped up. Long and lean muscles. Can you fall in love with arms? OMG, I think I have... and who they're attached to. Did you ever look at someone and with the biggest sigh in your heart wish to God you could just have one chance, just one small chance but you know that you would be so bashful and backward and so in awe of the person they are that you would completely screw everything up? And I don't mean looks... I mean, them. Where you would feel so self-conscious about not being good enough for them that you would ruin it by not being able to be yourself at all? I know. That's my low self-esteem/insecurities talking. And maybe they would be thinking the same things too... how they hope they don't screw it up. Just musing about how two peeps might feel the same way... and never know it.

I am so fucking mad right now I could chew nails and build a house with my mouth. I guess if your kids are pissed off at you you're doing something right. I'm so sick of Nate and his fucking excuses as to why his work at school is not done. Why he has oodles and oodles of homework that he's now bucking the babysitter on completing. So, Mommy Dearest here had to come home and chew ass and bust ass. I busted ass because I told him to stay in one place and finish his work and instead he follows me into the kitchen wanting a hug or rather wanting another fucking excuse not to do the damn work. That little piss ant!!! Then he has the fucking nerve to tell me that he doesn't think I like him anymore. Well, I bet he won't be saying that again because he got a very loud lecture on how if I didn't love him I sure as hell wouldn't give a goddamn if he ever completed an assignment, in or out of school, and that making sure he gets a good education and learns to apply himself towards something is part of my love for him. Furthermore, little boy, I said so. Yeah, that's right, I SAID SO. Got a problem with it? Too bad. You're too young to get a job and even if you did have a job you're still not going to tell ME how the balls bounces in MY house! WTF? I sound like my mother!!! I'M TURNING INTO MY MOTHER!!! ACK!!! And just once I'd like for that piece of shit sperm donor to have to be the heavy. WFT is this every-other-weekend crap??? I offered the slime ball shared parenting. We live within five fucking miles of each other and he can only take time out of his busy fucking life for every other fucking weekend?!? Bite my ass and kiss it twice. How did the best thing in my life come from the absolute worst situation and mistake I ever made? HowinthefuckingSamHelldidthathappen?? And what's worse about sperm donor is he blames me for all of Nate's problems. Like, I'm not doing a good enough job. Well FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!!! I could rant about how Nate's meds and other expenses far outweigh the child support I receive but why? It is what it is. Even if you are working under the table for Mommy and Daddy and I have no way of proving it. Okay... I'll give ya that. BUT YA KNOW WHAT? SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH ABOUT NATE AND THE JOB I'M DOING WITH HIM M'KAY? SPERM. DONOR. You have NO ROOM TO TALK about being a good parent. Why is it you're always a part of the problem but never the solution? That's alllll right. I got broad shoulders so you go ahead and heap it on because I'm not the one who's going to be sorry in the long run. Yeah, he's a brat sometimes, like today, but he's MY brat. And someday I'm going to have a man who loves me and my brat and we're going to make more brats and he's going to be a daddy, not a sperm donor. And he's going to be there when I get like this and tell me to calm down and chill and kiss my hatefulness away. And after we put all of our brats to bed ... well... you get the picture. Ohhhhh, this day has made me re-think my "ideal" man.... Can I just cut it down to someone who's going to love me and my brat and be there for me and my brat and someone I can love and be there for and have more brats with? Such a simple thing... so hard to find.

No Title

Isn't that original? Album of the Day: Armageddon Soundtrack - Released 1998 Four songs by Aerosmith and the hit "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing," propelled by a tear-jerking video of Liv Tyler with Daddy and Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler standing in for Bruce Willis. Too bad Aerosmith overshadowed the other incredible songs on this album, "Wish I Were You" by Patty Smith, "Mister Big Time" by Jon Bon Jovi and most notably Journey's "Remember Me," which is a simply beautiful song and almost classified by itself as song of the day. Find myself all alone In darkness without you Now I can't turn away From what I must do You know I'd give my life for you More than words can say I've shown you how to love someone I know you'll find a way [Chorus:] Say goodbye Close your eyes Remember me Walk away The sun remains Remember me I'll live on somewhere in your heart You must believe Remember me This song always reminds me of the firemen and police officers who entered the World Trade Center towers, knowing they probably would not return. 'Nuff said.

For Jack

Do not stand by my grave and weep I am not there I do not sleep I am a thousand winds that blow I am a diamond glint on snow I am the sunlight on ripened grain I am the gentle autumn rain When you awake in the morning hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circular flight I am the soft starshine at night Do not stand by my grave and cry I am not there ... I did not die - Anonymous I've tried to post three or four times but everything I say sounds really stupid. I'll just make a list. 1. I've thought of Jack since last week and he was on my mind all weekend. I don't know why. 2. When I read his first post today, I cried. Then I cried again when I read his second post. 3. Then I cried while I tried to say something that would make him feel better and knew that I couldn't. 4. Anything else I came up with was so personal I couldn't or wouldn't post it. Namely because I don't understand why I feel the way I do and anytime I try to explain it, it sounds stupid. I just erased five and six because, I can't force them out. I want to but I can't because everything I write sounds dumb. I'll just leave it at -- Jack I wish I was there to hold your hand.

Slave

Song of the Day: Stone Cold - Rainbow (from "Straight Between the Eyes" - 1982) Album of the Day: Slave to the Grind - Skid Row (Released June 11, 1991) Book of the Day: Where the Wild Things Are - Maurice Sendak (Published 1964) Stone Cold Another dark and empty night It was wrong I wanna make it right But you are so distant, so far away Your words like ice fall on the ground breaking the silence without a sound Oh familiar strangers, with nothing to say Searching in the darkness Fading out of sight Love was here and gone like a thief in the night Stone Cold... And I thought I knew you so well... Stone Cold... I can't break away from your spell... You leave me Stone Cold This song reminds me of how people make mistakes... and how they are punished for them. If anything, this song taught me about the power of guilt, but more so, the power of forgiveness. Who would ever want a dude to sing about how cold you are? *Jazz, please forgive Jay. He loves you. Yeah, he’s a dork, but all men are dorks, they just have different levels of dorkdom and frankly, Jays at the bottom of the food chain there. Remember how he saved you from the porta-shitter and told you he loved you?? * Skid Row is one of the few hairbands, IMHO, who came out with a harder, faster tighter album than they started out with. I saw Skid Row with Pantera when they toured for this album. Nothing like being in the mosh pit during "Riot Act." This an album where its tough to pick a favorite song. I’d have to say it’s a toss up between "Psycho Love," "Riot Act," "Get the Fuck Out," and "Wasted Time." But I like "Monkey Business" too... and "In a Darkened Room." Okay, I just like them all. And yeah, I like Sebastian Bach. Awesome pipage. As for Where the Wild Things Are... simple yet engaging, humorous, and beautifully illustrated, perfect for a Monday morning. LOL!! Nate reminds me so much of Max... but Nate wears a vampire outfit instead of a wolf suit. Let the wild rumpus start!!!

Inanna's Bar & Grill --> Caution: Sexual Content Ahead

This post is inspired by El Sid. I'll be drinking while blogging, althought not sure if I will get the drunk part. I only have a 1/3 of a 1.5 liter of wine left. Damn. Here are the official drinks of Anything Goes: Wine: Right now, Classic Burgundy... its all I got. Beer: Eichbaum. Its a German beer, its my favorite beer. There is no other beer close to it in my heart. I'll drink a Bud (Regular, Light or Ice) if you bring me one though. Liquor: Tequila, preferably Jose Cuervo Tradicional. Freeze it for about two hours, then shoot straight from the bottle. Makes the whole world go away... for a long time. Soft Drink: Dr. Pecker, I mean Pepper. Coffee: Coffee is coffee to me. I hate Starbucks. I think its the most bitter coffee I've ever drank. I don't like it. Give me Maxwell House anyday, black. I only have cream when I have coffee from somewhere else. Tea: Morrocan Green Mint. Makes me feel great. I could go on with Sports Drinks and shite but... nah. Let's get to the good stuff. I've had some recent experiences that I'd like to share with you. Not like I don't share enough. Anyway, about a month ago I went to Jamal's to get a pack of cigarettes but Jamal wasn't there. The young man who waited on me was obviously Middle Eastern, probably Lebanese, because Jamal is Lebanese. Anyway, he had this really, really cute accent too and he was really, really good-looking. I can't remember why he asked me what sign I was. It wasn't anything cheesy, it just happened in the course of the conversation. He may have had a birthday recently. Anyway, before I could answer, he said, "Scorpio." I was like, "Yeah, but how did you know?" (Just to clarify, Blondie here did not produce an ID and my tat was covered.) He said, "Because Scorpios, " he raised his hand to his face, "you talk," and I said, "with my eyes." He said, "Yes." And he smiled, which was really, really, really nice. I found myself wondering if he would like to date an infidel. Yes, I assumed because he's Middle Eastern that he is also Muslim. He may be Christian, but either way, I'm still an infidel. Who knows, maybe he was wondering the same thing. Maybe I should go find out. But what I wrote about Gene Simmons yesterday reminded me of what that cutie said to me that day. One of my male friends (with benefits) gave me the most glowing of compliments the other day. He said he had never, never, never, ever had a blowjob like the one I gave him. Now, that just makes me want to do one better. Nothing like a challenge to top yourself. One of my ex's told me I was a cocksucking whore in the bedroom and I took that as a supreme compliment. A guy friend asked me what I thought one of the major problems with men and sex was. I said, "They're not giving me enough of it." For some women, I guess it is about size, but its not for me. Its all about Pubic Bone Placement. Good PBP = Excellent orgasm, or at least potential. I was once with a guy who I call "Bic Dick." Yeah, a regular Bic lighter had a little more on it than he did. Oh, and he was built like a linebacker otherwise. I was hoping he was a grower but no, he was a shower. Didn't matter... he had excellent PBP and we had awesome, wild, uninhibited, S&M, bondage sex. The only drawback was he was too short for doggy style, but he made up for it. I've been with two guys who were a lot more amply endowed than others. Much more. For some reason, both thought they had Bic Dicks, especially one of them. Pay attention! No women likes having her cervix slammed. Unless they just really like feeling like men do when they get punched in the balls. If I say it hurts, don't tell me you're "tiny, little dick" couldn't be hurting me and then proceed to shove my ovaries into my throat. You will be dismissed. And no blowjobs for you! I feel sorry for men. Truly. Men, the wind blows, they are ready. Women, could take three minutes, could take three hours. I'm easy. When I'm ready, I wrap my legs around you and say, "Take me, I'm yours." And it doesn't take three hours, nor three minutes, but a lot closer to three minutes than three hours. My mind tends to be waaaaay ahead of my body though, so, saying that, its one of the many, multitude of reasons I like going south... It makes me hot and it makes the guy hot, but he's pre-occupied and he thinks he's getting all of the goods so it doesn't seem like foreplay to him, because that would mean he's actually "taking care" of some perceived need I have. I have a need for your cock in my mouth... that's what I have a need for. *This portion of my post is dedicated to Trashman, since he wants all the trash on me* I'll just be honest and say when I read on Steve's blog about him getting a blowjob, I was downright jealous. Of the girl. Oh yeah, I'm sure you're saying that I could find some guy to blow. You're probably right but then I have to worry about him never leaving me alone again. I'm not much for guys giving me oral sex. Its okay but I prefer going down on him or just knocking boots. I'm not one much for the "making love" crap either. Throw me to the mat and do me... m'kay? There's only one guy who actually got the picture and knew, alternately how to tease the hell out of me, and how to slam it home without breaking the bat or shoving my ovaries into my throat. God I miss him!! And, tantric sex is all well and good, really. I find the breathing exercises to be especially helpful in prolonging orgasmic delight but for God's sake, get off the "multiple orgasm" thing!! Women all over the world just let out a collective groan for me saying that. "But we like multiple orgasms!!" Who doesn't?? I do. But I also don't feel the need to knock boots for two freakin' hours because he wants to feel like he's the Rocky Balboa of sex. I'm really, really happy with tiny little orgasms as he sucks and bites the top of my shoulders in doggy position okay? That drives me absolutely fucking crazy!! But then, get out of the way!! Let me have my over-the-top, can't breathe, can't speak, ripping-the-pillow-apart orgasm, follow me shortly, then shut up and spoon me. And no, I do not want to talk about how good it was... ummm, that should have been pretty evident because I'm not exactly quiet leading up to it. If you have to get up and go potty, do so, but not 3 seconds post-orgasm. That's just bad form. If we're using a condom, I'll forgive you for that. And... I have a new rule for lovers. If you think enough of me to do me and I think enough of you to do you, then stick the fuck around. I understand that at times its hard to actually sleep with someone in a strange place but I guarantee that I didn't just pick you up in a bar and you don't know my last name. You're someone that I've gotten to know fairly well and happen to be able to tolerate. Do not diss me by walking out after I just fucked you. You will not be fucked again, you will never feel my mouth on your dick again and I guarantee you will miss it. Furthermore, if you have a problem with me giving you head while I'm on my period, then you have waaaaay too many issues. Gooch just commented and said its the age old conundrum, wondering how a girl got sooo good at giving head. Well, its not like I'm boasting of a multitude of lovers but I think, in my case, it has to do with just enjoying it, wanting to please and improving upon the perfection. LOL!!! Which leads me to my most current conundrum.... I swallow, which I guess most guys thinks is hot or rocks or whatever, but... doesn't that get to be a bore??? What if he wants to come somewhere else?? I have a bad habit of getting completely caught up in what I'm doing and don't ask the question when I know its getting close... shame on me!!! See, still have some improving to do.... ;o)

Yaaaaawwwwnnnnn...

Sunday... my first Sunday alone for three weeks. I slept in, kinda. The alarm went off a lot and I hit the snooze button a lot. I can't just sleep, sleep, sleep or I feel crappy. I have a slight headache this morning from drinking wine last night. I blogged but it was a bunch of crap about how well I give head and what a whore I am in the bedroom and I just summed it up in one sentence. Today's Song of the Day: Serenity - Godsmack Its on the radio and its been the theme song of my life for the past 10 months. Today's Album of the Day: Greatest - Bee Gees (Disc 1) (Released 1979) I still love this album and my mom was kind enough to burn Disc 1 on CD for me. She loved it so much she acutally bought the CD... we do have something in common!! Tragedy is my favorite song and I love to dance to it. Just give me a lot of space. Today's Book(s) of the Day: The Little House Series - Laura Ingalls Wilder (Published between 1932 and ?) What came first? The television series or me reading the true stories? Answer: The Series. I read the books sometime during the middle of the series. One of the best investments my parents ever made. I still love these books and my mom has my boxed set at her house, minus, I think, "By the Shores of Silver Lake." I need to get with the program and make it a complete set again. I need to go unearth the coffee pot and some ibuprofen for that twinge of a headache I have, not to mention my right shoulder, which is popping and cracking and making my back sore. Peace and Serenity peeps.

Inanna's (YANKEE) Asian Deer Meat Chili

Its simmering now... can you smell it? Here's my recipe as near as I can tell for my deer meat chili, which is made different than my regular chili. It has a lot more spices in it to counter the wild meat. This morning before I went to work, because I was too busy reading blogs last night and prepping for my KISS post, I had to get my meat ready. Doesn't that sound just dirty? My first ingredient when working with deer meat is Worchestershire sauce... so add about 20 or 40 dashes of that to a pound of ground deer meat. Then add onions, the more the better, fresh if ya got it. I didn't and I couldn't find my dried ones so I had to proceed. Next, I emptied my cupboard of about every spice I had and added: Ginger Nutmeg Allspice Tumeric Garlic Powder Salt Pepper Brown Sugar Vanilla Butternut Italian Seasoning Chili Powder and part of the kitchen sink. I mooshed all of this together and it was a bit dry so I added more Worchestershire to get it good and soppy. Not sure if mooshed and soppy are words but they are today. Then I let it sit in the fridge for about eight hours or so. I came home from work and unearthed my chili pot, heated it up a bit, dumped in the meat and cooked it real slow and just enough that it was barely done. In the meantime I had also found my dried onions, so I dumped a bunch of them in. And I let it simmer just a bit to get them softened up and added some crushed red cayenne peppers, but not too much. You have to be careful with those. Then more ginger. I like ginger because it has this subtle bite to it but its very woodsy at the same time. I don't use it often though. Then I added a can of stewed tomatoes and two cans of tomato sauce and an itty bitty can of tomato paste. I like my chili RED! So I let that simmer a bit, then added one can of red kidney beans. If I can pick up 2-3 beans in the spoon I'm good. Some peeps like more. Eh, okay, whatever. I also do not like my beans to be in anyway firm... I like them soft and mooshy. Unlike my men. Now, its time for the final tweeks. More Worchestershire, more ginger, more garlic powder, a little more salt, little bit of brown sugar and a lot of chili powder. Normally I also put in a can of green chilis but I'm damn poor and couldn't afford them so... pout. First taste... eh... could be better. Little more salt and chili powder. Second taste... eh... could be better... more chili powder. At this point the ginger is a little overwhelming instead of blending. Add tumeric. Stir, taste, nope not there yet. I empty the rest of my chili powder. Nope, still not there. Go to nabes and get chili powder, cheese and sour cream. They owe me. Add more chili powder... stir, taste, add more powder... little more brown sugar... stir, stir, stir, taste... ummmmm.. now that's perfect. The chili powder and the ginger are in beautiful harmony... the first bite of the ginger, followed by the sustained bite of the chili. I'm a bit disappointed though that I forgot to get some sausage out of the freezer. I had some patties in there. When I make regular chili I always use about half a pound of sausage or so but I'm not sure how the sausage would have blended with the ginger. I don't think it would have honestly. So, all is well. I just wish I had some of those round Tostitos chips... I like to melt my cheese and put on a big dollop of sour cream and sit down with the bowl and the chips and pig out while watching a football game. Alas, no Tostitos, no TV, no football ... but I got CHILI!!! :o)

Gimme a KISS!!

Right about the time the puberty hormones began surging through my body, about the time I was kissing boys in the back of the room at the coat rack and about the time I found my Mom's copy of Jacqueline Susann's book "Once Is Not Enough," a particular rock band had a hit song with "I Was Made For Lovin' You." My brother had the album with the four members in make-up, flourescent lighting illuminating their pitch black hair. My brother was never really into music as much as I was and before long I had scurried away with the coveted vinyl and disappeared into the void of my room. The "Lovin'" song was good and it was played a lot but my favorite song was "Charisma," sang by the bat-winged bassist. Even at such a young age, perhaps it was the surging hormones, that song touched a part of my young body that I wouldn't understand for a few more years. The Demon's voice was melodic and sexy. Is it my fortune or my fame Is it my money or my name Is it my personality Or just my sexuality, yeah, yeah What is my charisma What is my charisma, yeah Is it my body or my brain Do I drive you insane, ha Is it the power of my touch Do you need me too much, too much, too much As I got older I realized that The Demon was, with the right kind of emotion behind his words and a hint of danger, slowly and passionately psychologically fucking every woman who heard that song. Yes, Yes, Yes, Gene Simmons is at the TOP of the MEN I'D LOVE TO FUCK list. It has nothing to do with his tongue, although that is a bonus. Once they ditched the make-up and one could observe his expressions, it made it that much more significant. And Gene is someone who speaks with his eyes. I like that. And yes, it is that hint of danger that makes it sooo thrilling and sexy. Not that there weren't other excellent tunes, like "Magic Touch," "Dirty Livin'," and "Sure Know Something," which made an awesome acoustic tune on MTV's Unplugged, but "Charisma" is, and will remain, my all time favorite KISS song. Not only that, but my absolute favorite memory of my Mom and I happened at a KISS concert. Yes, my mom and I went to see KISS together. What was I thinking??? It was the Psycho Circus tour, which any KISS fan knows was the reunion of the original four members after almost 20 years. I had purchased tickets for myself and a friend and her husband who would be coming in from Maryland. At the last minute they had to cancel their travel plans and my Mom said she would like to go. What could I say? Just to clarify... my mom has slept with one man in her life. She has never smoked a cigarette, much less a joint. She has had very, very few encounters with alcohol and has never been drunk. And she's at a KISS concert, upper balcony seating, with a bird's eye view of the stage and those huge video screens. The first thing that happened when the lights went down is the three teenagers in front of us fired one up. My mom starts waving the smoke away with some kind of paper she's brought in with her, completely ruining the contact buzz I was hoping to get. KISS hits the stage and they pop up larger than life on the screens. Luckily, instead of having those bulky, cumbersome shoulder cams, the video techs were outfitted with nifty hand-held cameras, just perfect to fit underneath Gene's bass... with those tight leather pants, gyrating to the beat.... A roaring builds within me as hormones and blood and who knows what else, floods my system, watching him. Among the roaring, both of the crowd and within me, I remember... Charisma... and that slow psychological fuc.... OOOUCH! My mom has latched onto my arm with both hands. "OH MY GOD!!! DO YOU SEE THAT!?! DO YOU SEE THAT!?!" What Mom? The perfect outline of Gene Simmons's dick prominently displayed through tight leather pants on a huge video screen... geeee, really??? I didn't see that! Thanks for interrupting that incredible sexual fantasy I was about to embark on. Stop pointing Mom, you always told me that was rude. I'm not sure if she was appalled or excited or a little of both, and I really don't want to know. I know what I was thinking and that's enough. In case you haven't figured it out, the Album of the Day is: DYNASTY - KISS (Released 1979) There is no book of the day, hell I just wrote one! I slipped in the title of another KISS song above without quotations ... do you know what it is?

Guess What I Heard...?

On the way home from work? Somebody to Love!!! And yes, I sang along with the radio in my car as loud as I could. The house is quiet and cold. Nate has gone to his dad's for the weekend and its 49 degrees outside. Its probably a little lower now as that was over an hour ago. I guess tomorrow I will have to sweep out the furnace and light it. I hate that. I really do. Another big bill to pay. First though, I will have to winterize the house. Pain in ass. I will be working tomorrow. I need the money and I need to get some shit straightened out on the work front. I'll also be cleaning house tomorrow. Can you just say "YUCK!" Must be done before I lose a cat or my kid in the ever increasing piles of junk. I do have a bead project in the works which will be worked on every 45 minutes. I'm be doing "crisis cleaning" tomorrow... compliments of the Flylady. That's Flylady.net... m'kay? Someday, I will fly, but for now, I'm just a baby. I don't want to do my attraction spell until the house is in good condition. I feel big things are on the way for me and I want positive space. Goddess knows if I'm going to attract him, I want to at least keep him around long enough to see what happens. I'll be making chili tomorrow. Figured I needed to use some of that deer meat before I wander out into the wild blue yonder to bring home the beef. Got that Celti? I said BEEF!! Although its not beef, its venison. Got that? I said VENISON!! I have to "cure" the deer meat in the fridge over night with spices, onions and Worchestershire Sauce to get the wild taste out. I wish I had a real onion but right now, sadly, very, very sadly, I can't fucking afford one. The Credit Union has absolutely no explanation as to why my check was held three weeks. They blamed it on the post office. All I know is, I'll be busting my ass for weeks to come to get this mess straightened out. Christmas is just around the corner and although I could give a rat's ass, Nate sure does. He's not mentioned much that he wants but what he wants is pricey. Well, eehhhhhh, not too bad. I'd like to get him a few book sets so we can sit down and read them together (as in The Chronicles of Prydain and Narnia, respectively.) I wish they hadn't come out with Harry Potter movies. Its difficult to get him to read the books although I think he's becoming more interested as there are things that I talk about from the books that aren't in the movies. Time to wrap things up around here. I hope my kitties keep me warm tonight... chatter, chatter, chatter.

Digression

Almost forgot this today: Song of the day: Jesus Is Just Alright - Doobie Brothers (From the album Toulouse Street - Released July 1972) I LOVED this song and I still do. It rocked, it rolled, it was soulful. Another example of Inanna belting out songs at a very young age. I never knew if it was Pat Simmons or Tom Johnston who sang "Jesus..." but I'm guessing it was Simmons as he sang lead on "China Grove." All I remember is the song slowly, the music fading and this gorgeous voice vibrating to the bottom of my soul... "Jeeesusssss, he's my friend...." Book of the day: The Book of Three - Lloyd Alexander (Book 1 of 5 in the "Chronicles of Prydain - Published 1964) I still own the original copies of the books I bought as a child. I had to borrow books 3 and 4 from the library and sadly, because I was not fond of book 4, ended up not reading book 5. However, I do plan to remedy that. Anyway, again, I was blown away by this book in as far as having a sarcastic, intelligent, strong-willed heroine, Eilonwy, in addition to the sufffering hero, Taran, assistant pig keeper. The plot is fast paced, the characters are outstanding and thankfully, its just the beginning. I couldn't get enough of the land of Prydain and its fantasy creatures and magic. I felt "comfortable" while reading his books, as though they were written about some other life I had lead. Have a good weekend!!

Ask With Specificity

This weekend I will be performing my attraction spell. As I stated before, its worked in the past. Yep, I've met peeps and went out on dates but... nothing ever worked out. This time around I decided I would be a little more specific in my request. See, many times we believe that because something is in our heart that our Higher Power knows this. Uh, no. I read at one time that you should ask for what you want. Okay, I wanted a date. I just didn't specify with what kind of man, so I got what came along. Yesterday I read a variation of my attraction spell which uses a talisman along with the oil burning and chanting. Its photographs and other symbols of the the kind of peeps you would like to meet. Now, there's a concept. Even though I've posted about my ideal man, I wondered what I could really use to represent those qualities on the altar, so to speak. Sorry guys, but, you've been pegged (at least for the most part.) Please don't take offense if you are not listed or if you are listed for something and I tune it up or down with someone else... m'kay? The kind of man I would like to meet has Jay's abs. I'll even take the mullet. He has Jack's intellect. (This was a tough one! I was going to go for Jack's 8-pack and Jay's intellect but... ) He's built like Dastard, with Dastard's eyes and coloring ( I just like dark hair!) and his self-deprecating sense of humor. I want him to have Mike's wit and creativity and JP's love of sports. I want him to be my friend, like Seeker but I'll trade his sarcasm for The Dave's, which is not quite as caustic. I want him to have Steve's libido but I'm gonna have to offset that with AJ's and Jethro's loyalty, faithfulness and love of family. I want him to have AZ's ambition but will offset that with Lex's love of travel, leisure and critters. I want him to be able to give good advice like Johnny5 and know when to buy flowers like Gooch. I also hope he's learned from life like Trashman has just not to that extent (ahem). Of course ladies, I can't leave you out. Like I said, don't be offended if you're not mentioned because you're all so wonderful it would be hard to pick just one thing... (LOL!) I want him to have Celti's spirituality and revolve in a higher orbit like Sister Moon. I want him to be like Sloth in his baser political views but I'm gonna offset that with Zelda and her lean toward Libertarianism. A love of the outdoors and gardening would be good so I'm going to put in a dash of Esther and I definitely want him to have Leese's business smarts and Regan's cooking ability. He should be able to mend his own shirts, so I'll sprinkle him with Aimee and a love of tequila would be nice, so I'll throw in some Jamie. (Yes, I know I made a rhyme) Ahhh, what next? Some experimentation in the bedroom and where else can I get that but Vader? I kinda doubt he'll be Canadian, but in the off chance, I'll toss in Lovisa, Snick and Queenie , why? Just because they're cool and baaaaaa being born in the year of the Fleece would be too, at least I think that would make him younger. And last but not least, I want his smile to travel to his eyes, like Cooter. I'll not go into the drib-drab of how I admire many things about each of you mentioned, and others not, here in the blogosphere. Admiration overlaps in many ways and with many people. At least though, I have a clearer view of the man I want to request. I have your words, thoughts and feelings to back up that vision. Each of you has touched my life in a special way and sometimes, more than one. I used to think it was crazy and selfish to request my ideal man, but I don't anymore. This time I know I deserve it and please dear God and Goddess, smile on me :o)

It Dawned on Me...

That I wasn't being real fair about my album of the day since I loved so many songs that I didn't have on albums. So... don't forget to page down and read my post on QUANTUM PHYSICS AND MAGICK. It took me three hours, have a heart, at least read the last five paragraphs or so. Today's Song of the Day is: Somebody to Love - Jefferson Airplane (From Surrealistic Pillow - released 1967) I fully credit this song and Grace Slick for encouraging my singing abilities. There is and was nothing greater than belting this song out when it came on the radio. My parents would have never owned this type of album, trust me on that!! Unfortunately, I missed the other incredible songs on this album and someday, damnit, I'm going to own it!! I imagine myself dancing around with flowers in my hair, lost in Grace's incredible vocal spirit. Personally, I like her better than Janis Joplin. Sorry. Today's Book is: Island of the Blue Dolphins - Scott O' Dell (Published 1961) This is an incredible true story of a girl who jumps a boat to be with her brother after the Russians invade their small island. He dies, and she is left alone for 18 years to fend for herself. I loved this book although it made me very sad to think of her being alone for so many years. I did appreciate, at the time, a strong heroine who was so self-sufficient. I looked up to her. Regularly scheduled blogging occurs between the hours of 7:00 p.m. and 2 a.m. EST and results in posts like the one below. Cheers.