tuesdays

i was told to go drinking tomorrow night.


so i will.

saving me

tonight writing about dead kids and raining in baltimore are saving me. i think i could do this all night.


i might need to

- -

i was trying to sort something out today. something i've been thinking about for quite a while now. often the answer begins with a more well defined query. today i realized something that might just help.

i have been trying to suss out why i get so bored.

i've been bitching and moaning about this terrible ennui which has afflicted every fiber of my being. i like to think i'm a happy person but often i find, not so much. that's not fun. it's not the way to go through life. what if i only get one? i don't want to spend it bored. i want to spend it creative, drunk, in love and crazy. a previous post states my 'make your own happy' motto, if you will. i really do believe this. and of course all that bitching means i'm owning up to the fact that i hadn't sorted that bit out.

still, recognizing what i must do does not explain why i take such issue with boredom. it's should be a non-issue should it not?

but it's not the boredom that i can't bear. it's nothing. it's feeling nothing. it's like feeling pain is preferable to nothing. does that sound like a problem?

and i have an addiction. that first moment. that moment right before the first kiss. the first touch. unknowing hands. butterflies everywhere. just thinking about that... that's all i need. some folks need to jump off a bridge on a bunji, some folks need porn. all i need is that new moment.

maybe it's the butterflies that i am so in love with.

refrigerator poetry

smooth the bitter whisper of death
with the easy language of skin and sweat

morals: friend or foe?

in an effort to prepare for an impending debate, lets discuss society's innate, unspoken, unenforcable (mostly) rules: morals.

Issue #1: Defense for cowardice. This one is fact. but is it the dominant pro argument?

Issue #2: Do unto others. i think this is the one i buy into most. it does make one massive assumption: that others feel the same as i do. If wouldn't want my ass grabbed by some guy, i shouldn't grab some guys ass. Wrong. What is said guy doesn't mind? In fact, he might dig it. hm. at a basic level, this one is true 99% of the time isn't it? i wouldn't like to be stabbed in the back, therefore...

Issue #3: The hereafter. i'm not sure i'm qualified to tackle this one. lots of those same people who dig this item also think that child molester down the street can repent in his last minute and go hang out with my grandma and St. Peter.

Issue #4: Protection. Let me clarify. by that i mean morals are maybe meant to protect you from yourself. quite often, doing whatever one likes, can put one in unfortunate positions

Issue #5: ya hurt the ones you love. morals are supposed to stop that. right?

i'm sure there are more. lemme think about it. anyone else?

you know what's not fun?

it's not fun when you know you're not good at your job.

it's more not fun when you don't particuarly like your job.

luckily for me the better i get at my job, the less i have to do it.

whew.

Track 12, Special Reserve

makes me want to turn up the bass, turn down the lights and light up a joint. And of course, dance real slow.

A sure sign of good tunage is that you can't keep your head/hips still when listening.

My friend Stella

She's keeping me company for now, but disappearing fast.

What's that you say? you don't know Stella? She and i go way back. A dear friend in Boston introduced me to her. At a tiny little bar called Bukowskis. Truly.

Annnnnyway. I had a fucking monday.


Thank goodness for Tuesday. Tuesday might make up for this shitastic Monday. And actually, via email, i just discovered that Tuesday might be outstanding in that capacity.

i have something exciting & new to read, so off i go.

The Selfish Giant

Shockingly, J cannot abide this film.

Off topic: i had suuuuuuuch a stupid day today. One of those days where you turn away from a conversation and on the walking away think 'good lord, i AM such a twit'.

Ugh.

So, the more i watch Stephen Fry the more i'm convinced that i have known several hetero- or bi-sexual incarnations of Mr. Wilde, over the years. Every one of them insanely tempting, madly intrigueing. So what does that make me?

Yoga - let's discuss

Hop in cold car.
Sit in traffic.
Drool over dark blue Cayman S.
Sit in traffic.
Park in lot several miles from home so hubby can have nice front door parking spot for monster truck.
Walk dogs until hands freeze and nose falls off -and still dogs aren't 'finished'.
Turn on giant television size of, well, me, intending to flick on yoga dvd. when -gasp- what to my wondering eyes does appear? Why it's Food Network in HD.

So i sit here thinking, gotta go get on the yoga gear and pull out the mat -and pull down the shades, STAT. Then i thought, uuuug, yoga pants, what the f* was wrong with the person or persons behind yoga pants? Synapses misfired in a fairly severe way my friends.

"I know! I know! If these twits are going to be turning themselves into human crazy straws in an effort to lengthen and strengthen, I say we complete the scene."

That's when yoga pants were invented. Sewiously. [in my best Homestar voice which isn't very good at all]. If you're doing yoga, it's most assuredly NOT because you already look like Heidi Klum. So why oh why would you make pants out of SPANDEX? I don't care if it's disguised with cotton so it looks all soft and fuzzy. Or like mine where they added flared legs like trendy jeans. You can't fool me. It still grabs your ass like a misbehavin' prom date. Ug.

Damn. Now Good Eats is on. And i have to go don spandex pants and a tiny tank?? You have got to be kidding me.