I'll be 26! blatant lie
That's right, kids. It's almost time for my birthday.
Shower me with gifts and praises! Mostly gifts, though!
I was thinking of having a little tea party at a local Tea Room. Doesn't that sound lovely and gay?
Heavy on the gay.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
In 12 Days....
I'll be 26! blatant lie
That's right, kids. It's almost time for my birthday.
Shower me with gifts and praises! Mostly gifts, though!
I was thinking of having a little tea party at a local Tea Room. Doesn't that sound lovely and gay?
Heavy on the gay.
That's right, kids. It's almost time for my birthday.
Shower me with gifts and praises! Mostly gifts, though!
I was thinking of having a little tea party at a local Tea Room. Doesn't that sound lovely and gay?
Heavy on the gay.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Popularity is a Waste
Friday night, my niece graduated from highschool.
This is particularly painful to me because for the first 3 years of her life, I kept her during the summer. People always thought she was my baby.
Now, "my baby" is a highschool graduate. She was also the salutatorian and was required to speak to the graduating class.
We were a little concerned because even though she is unbelievably intelligent, she's a social retard.
It's almost painful to be around her for too long so she doesn't have many friends. She also dresses like she doesn't give a shit (because she doesn't) which tends to embarrass us a little. It's not that we care about the clothes that people wear but she's not a thin girl and she wears things without regard to her size and without the proper undergarments.
Of course, she was wearing the same cap and gown as everyone else, we were relieved.
My poor niece has never had a boyfriend, never been out on a date and rarely leaves the house and even more rarely goes to school functions.
I know she's probably never touched a drop of alcohol or partaken of an illegal substance.
That's why when she quoted Tom Waits at the end of her speech, I was shocked.
This caused every senior on the field and every highschool student in the stands to stand up and cheer.
For about 5 seconds my niece, the introverted genius, was the most popular girl in school.
This is particularly painful to me because for the first 3 years of her life, I kept her during the summer. People always thought she was my baby.
Now, "my baby" is a highschool graduate. She was also the salutatorian and was required to speak to the graduating class.
We were a little concerned because even though she is unbelievably intelligent, she's a social retard.
It's almost painful to be around her for too long so she doesn't have many friends. She also dresses like she doesn't give a shit (because she doesn't) which tends to embarrass us a little. It's not that we care about the clothes that people wear but she's not a thin girl and she wears things without regard to her size and without the proper undergarments.
Of course, she was wearing the same cap and gown as everyone else, we were relieved.
My poor niece has never had a boyfriend, never been out on a date and rarely leaves the house and even more rarely goes to school functions.
I know she's probably never touched a drop of alcohol or partaken of an illegal substance.
That's why when she quoted Tom Waits at the end of her speech, I was shocked.
"Life is a waste of time, time is a waste of life, so get wasted all of the time and have the time of your life."
This caused every senior on the field and every highschool student in the stands to stand up and cheer.
For about 5 seconds my niece, the introverted genius, was the most popular girl in school.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Sex, Lies & Fornicate
There was a huge paradigm shift in the universe that is my sex life this weekend.
After knowing a certain member of the male species for several years, we both found ourselves single -at the same time. So, in turn, I found myself packing a bag and driving down a dark lonely Galveston Island road to spend the weekend at his waterfront bachelor pad.
While packing a toothbrush, sexy panties and a book (just in case), I realized how alone in the world I was at that very moment.
No one knew where I was going. If I died on that dark road, how long would it take someone to find me? How long would I be missed?
I guess, if I were dead, it wouldn't matter. But wouldn't everyone wonder what the hell I was doing out there?
I had to tell someone.
You must, dear reader, understand that I'm a VERY private person. This sounds ridiculous coming from someone who has a freaking blog, I know, but no one here REALLY knows me...
Well, except for Lon and that's who I told.
I called Lon who was in San Antonio for her daughter's tennis tournament.
I didn't want to bother her but I thought of all the people I could call she's the only one I could trust with my personal life.
After one "safety" call to one sister, it would take exactly one minute for the rest of the familiy to know that De was taking off to fornicate with a much older man with a nice house on the gulf.
Oh and fornicate we did!
But that's just between us, ok?
After knowing a certain member of the male species for several years, we both found ourselves single -at the same time. So, in turn, I found myself packing a bag and driving down a dark lonely Galveston Island road to spend the weekend at his waterfront bachelor pad.
While packing a toothbrush, sexy panties and a book (just in case), I realized how alone in the world I was at that very moment.
No one knew where I was going. If I died on that dark road, how long would it take someone to find me? How long would I be missed?
I guess, if I were dead, it wouldn't matter. But wouldn't everyone wonder what the hell I was doing out there?
I had to tell someone.
You must, dear reader, understand that I'm a VERY private person. This sounds ridiculous coming from someone who has a freaking blog, I know, but no one here REALLY knows me...
Well, except for Lon and that's who I told.
I called Lon who was in San Antonio for her daughter's tennis tournament.
I didn't want to bother her but I thought of all the people I could call she's the only one I could trust with my personal life.
After one "safety" call to one sister, it would take exactly one minute for the rest of the familiy to know that De was taking off to fornicate with a much older man with a nice house on the gulf.
Oh and fornicate we did!
But that's just between us, ok?
American Idol: Thank God It's Over!
After Chris left, American Idol lost it's magic for me.
In my opinion, he was in a different league than the others.
In leaving Taylor and Katharine to battle it out, we had Mediocre Idol for the next two weeks.
I will say that the finale was spectacular. I had no idea that so many artists would agree to do that show.
I was surprised to see Al Jareau. I thought he was dead!
Mary J. Blige was awesome even though she sang over Elliot. He looked thrilled just to be sharing a stage with her and he SHOULD be thrilled!
Chris singing with Live? Live on American Idol??? Since when do they do anything remotely commercial? Shocking! Who knew Ed Kowalczyk was so smokin hot?
I saw Toni Braxton but I can't say I heard her. Her voice is so manish and deep that it was impossible for the mic to pick it up.
But the moment that made me fall out of my chair. The moment that made me squeal like a school girl...the moment that MADE American Idol: Prince. Yes, PRINCE
What the hell was Prince doing on AI?
I felt a little squirrely in my pants when I saw him on stage. What is it about that 4 foot tall Hummel figure in heels that makes a girl feel all squishy inside?
Prince is just....well...Prince.
Who cares that Taylor won? Freakin PRINCE was just on stage!!!
In my opinion, he was in a different league than the others.
In leaving Taylor and Katharine to battle it out, we had Mediocre Idol for the next two weeks.
I will say that the finale was spectacular. I had no idea that so many artists would agree to do that show.
I was surprised to see Al Jareau. I thought he was dead!
Mary J. Blige was awesome even though she sang over Elliot. He looked thrilled just to be sharing a stage with her and he SHOULD be thrilled!
Chris singing with Live? Live on American Idol??? Since when do they do anything remotely commercial? Shocking! Who knew Ed Kowalczyk was so smokin hot?
I saw Toni Braxton but I can't say I heard her. Her voice is so manish and deep that it was impossible for the mic to pick it up.
But the moment that made me fall out of my chair. The moment that made me squeal like a school girl...the moment that MADE American Idol: Prince. Yes, PRINCE
What the hell was Prince doing on AI?
I felt a little squirrely in my pants when I saw him on stage. What is it about that 4 foot tall Hummel figure in heels that makes a girl feel all squishy inside?
Prince is just....well...Prince.
Who cares that Taylor won? Freakin PRINCE was just on stage!!!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
More than a mouthful is a waste
I love it when Skankeralla tells this story:
Sexually explicit stuff ahead:
Several years ago, I was living with a guy; we'll call him Oliver.
Oliver was a sexually adventurous guy...when he was horny.
When Oliver was horny, he wanted to do and try all kinds of crazy, wild things. As soon as Oliver had an orgasm, though, he became as uptight as a nun.
He told me once that the only reason men kiss, fondled and cuddled with women was to get them into bed. Men want to get in and get out and be done with it, he said. I believed him.
One night, he was enjoying my fellatial attentions rather enthusiastically. He got very excited and whispered to me, "Don't swallow me at first. Come up here and kiss me."
I was surprised. He wanted to snowball? Oliver? Wow!
Far be it from me to deny him this new adventure.
So when the time came and I had a mouthful, I climbed toward him, ready to press my lips against his, open my mouth and....
When we made eye contact, I could see the terror. I knew that as soon as Oliver orgasmed, the idea of having his own jizz in his mouth was not as appealing as it was when he was in the throws of fellatial passion.
He shook his head in violent jerks, his eyes wide and his mouth moving silently trying to find the words to say what his eyes were conveying to me: "Dear God, no!".
I found this all extremely hilarious: me climbing up his body with a mouthful of splooge and his abject terror.
I felt the laughter bubbling up and before I could control myself I busted out laughing, spraying his man juices all over him, the pillows, the headboard.
Man, that stuff is hard to get out of your hair.
Love,
S
Sexually explicit stuff ahead:
Several years ago, I was living with a guy; we'll call him Oliver.
Oliver was a sexually adventurous guy...when he was horny.
When Oliver was horny, he wanted to do and try all kinds of crazy, wild things. As soon as Oliver had an orgasm, though, he became as uptight as a nun.
He told me once that the only reason men kiss, fondled and cuddled with women was to get them into bed. Men want to get in and get out and be done with it, he said. I believed him.
One night, he was enjoying my fellatial attentions rather enthusiastically. He got very excited and whispered to me, "Don't swallow me at first. Come up here and kiss me."
I was surprised. He wanted to snowball? Oliver? Wow!
Far be it from me to deny him this new adventure.
So when the time came and I had a mouthful, I climbed toward him, ready to press my lips against his, open my mouth and....
When we made eye contact, I could see the terror. I knew that as soon as Oliver orgasmed, the idea of having his own jizz in his mouth was not as appealing as it was when he was in the throws of fellatial passion.
He shook his head in violent jerks, his eyes wide and his mouth moving silently trying to find the words to say what his eyes were conveying to me: "Dear God, no!".
I found this all extremely hilarious: me climbing up his body with a mouthful of splooge and his abject terror.
I felt the laughter bubbling up and before I could control myself I busted out laughing, spraying his man juices all over him, the pillows, the headboard.
Man, that stuff is hard to get out of your hair.
Love,
S
Oh Don't Mind Him, That's My Other Boyfriend...
Gosh, kids. I've had to really dig around in my email archives for more stories from Skankerella. Here is one I found today:
Darling De,
I have a Battery Operated Boyfriend (Bob). Bob is probably the most faithful boyfriend I've ever had. The only time he has ever let me down is when his batteries died and I forgot to buy new ones.
That was a rookie mistake. You always have to have back up batteries at home.
I kept Bob practically IN my bed. There use to be a nice little space right between the box springs and the bed frame that gave just enough room for Bob to rest comfortably and allowed for easy access.
I forgot all about Bob one night when I was entertaining a guest that wasn't operated by D cells.
We were rocking the bed pretty good. Moans of pleasure and grunts of satisfaction filled the room. Suddenly, like plagues of locusts, a noise unlike any other assaulted our ears. The bed started shaking as if an earthquake was rippling through my apartment.
"What the fuck is that?", my guest inquired.
Momentarily stunned, I started at him for a moment thinking those locusts sure sound familiar.
"Oh! It's Bob!"
Wow, nothing makes a man lose an erection faster than yelling out another man's name.
"Bob??", yelled my now flacid friend.
"Yeah!" I reached down to the side of the bed and picked up Bob. In our enthusiastic lovemaking, we must have shook the bed so hard that Bob was as turned on as we were. He was vibrating against the metal of the bed frame causing quite a raucous!
I held him up with pride. "Meet Bob."
I don't know why I never heard from my man friend again. He doesn't have anything to worry about. It's not like Bob can take me out to dinner or buy me jewelry. Sheesh!
Kisses,
Skankerella
Darling De,
I have a Battery Operated Boyfriend (Bob). Bob is probably the most faithful boyfriend I've ever had. The only time he has ever let me down is when his batteries died and I forgot to buy new ones.
That was a rookie mistake. You always have to have back up batteries at home.
I kept Bob practically IN my bed. There use to be a nice little space right between the box springs and the bed frame that gave just enough room for Bob to rest comfortably and allowed for easy access.
I forgot all about Bob one night when I was entertaining a guest that wasn't operated by D cells.
We were rocking the bed pretty good. Moans of pleasure and grunts of satisfaction filled the room. Suddenly, like plagues of locusts, a noise unlike any other assaulted our ears. The bed started shaking as if an earthquake was rippling through my apartment.
"What the fuck is that?", my guest inquired.
Momentarily stunned, I started at him for a moment thinking those locusts sure sound familiar.
"Oh! It's Bob!"
Wow, nothing makes a man lose an erection faster than yelling out another man's name.
"Bob??", yelled my now flacid friend.
"Yeah!" I reached down to the side of the bed and picked up Bob. In our enthusiastic lovemaking, we must have shook the bed so hard that Bob was as turned on as we were. He was vibrating against the metal of the bed frame causing quite a raucous!
I held him up with pride. "Meet Bob."
I don't know why I never heard from my man friend again. He doesn't have anything to worry about. It's not like Bob can take me out to dinner or buy me jewelry. Sheesh!
Kisses,
Skankerella
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Under the Rock
I can see my "sex life" post brought a few people out of "comment lurking".
Writing about sex is tempting. If you only knew the crazy things I do for that "holy grail" of human existance.
I'm just not anonymous enough here and that's MY fault.
There are so many out there that can just blog about whatever in the hell they want because they created an alter ego.
Look at skippy stalin. I was shocked...SHOCKED, I tell you, when I discovered that wasn't his real name.
But I admire him not only because he masturbates furiously to thoughts of me but he blogs balls out.
I wish I could do that....if I had balls.
I wish I could tell you about the guy that liked to bring two duffel bags of miscellanea with him when we would "visit" or the guy whose penis was so small I kept bursting out into fits of giggles during sex. Oh, how you'd LAUGH if I told you about the guy that I slept with just so he'd leave town.
Those would make GREAT stories.
But...
I live with this thought that one day, a sister, a brother-in-law or God forbid, a niece or nephew will run across my blog and recognize me or themselves.
No, I wish I would have started this blog thing differently.
But I didn't...so you might have to settle for hearing about my "friend" and her sexual exploits.
Writing about sex is tempting. If you only knew the crazy things I do for that "holy grail" of human existance.
I'm just not anonymous enough here and that's MY fault.
There are so many out there that can just blog about whatever in the hell they want because they created an alter ego.
Look at skippy stalin. I was shocked...SHOCKED, I tell you, when I discovered that wasn't his real name.
But I admire him not only because he masturbates furiously to thoughts of me but he blogs balls out.
I wish I could do that....if I had balls.
I wish I could tell you about the guy that liked to bring two duffel bags of miscellanea with him when we would "visit" or the guy whose penis was so small I kept bursting out into fits of giggles during sex. Oh, how you'd LAUGH if I told you about the guy that I slept with just so he'd leave town.
Those would make GREAT stories.
But...
I live with this thought that one day, a sister, a brother-in-law or God forbid, a niece or nephew will run across my blog and recognize me or themselves.
No, I wish I would have started this blog thing differently.
But I didn't...so you might have to settle for hearing about my "friend" and her sexual exploits.
Skankerella the Great
A "friend" of mine sent me the following email. With her permission, I'm sharing it with you guys.
Dear De,
Have I ever told you the story about one of the guys from IRC?
I jumped on the internet bandwagon before the wagon got so crowded.
I found myself on IRC in late 1996, I think.
By 1997, I was addicted. I was doing mIRC every free moment. I made a lot of friends there and became quite popular.
When my boyfriend and I broke up and I moved out, I had my IRC friends to bolster my spirits and I had a bunch of horny IRC guys to make sure I got laid.
One guy with whom I had become friends decided he wanted to come visit me.
I think his name was James but to be honest, I've forgotten a lot about him.
I explained to him that I didn't want to sleep with him but if he wanted to come hang out on vacation, that was cool with me.
It didn't take long for me to realize that he had EVERY intention of having sex with me. It also didn't take me long to realize he was a TOTAL loser.
I never invited him to stay at my place so after a few nights in a motel, he confessed to me that he was out of money. "Could I crash at your house for a while?"
Umm...no!
I am not totally heartless. I didn't want him sleeping on the streets so I found him the cheapest, crack-whoringest, gang-riddenest motel a crisp 20 dollar bill would buy and I dropped him off and said "See ya tomorrow!" with a cheerful wave.
I figured out that this guy was persistant. He wasn't going to leave without luring me into his bed (is it my bed if I paid for the room?).
One night, as I was feeding him a bologna sandwich and a lukewarm glass of tap water, I realized that the only way I'd get rid of this parasite was to sleep with him.
He wasn't disgusting, I told myself. It wouldn't be HORRIBLE.
So, I did.
Oh boy, was he EVER excited!
During the act, I got kind of mouthy....
"Oh you like that don't you?"
"Yes! Yes!" he moaned.
"You want me to do that again?"
"Yes, yes! Oh yes!"
"You like it rough, don't you?"
"Oh God, yes!"
"You're leaving first thing in the morning, aren't you?"
"Yes! Oh baby, YES!"
He was on a plane back to Suckerville the very next day.
I giggled with glee all the way back home.
Your Friend,
Skankerella
Dear De,
Have I ever told you the story about one of the guys from IRC?
I jumped on the internet bandwagon before the wagon got so crowded.
I found myself on IRC in late 1996, I think.
By 1997, I was addicted. I was doing mIRC every free moment. I made a lot of friends there and became quite popular.
When my boyfriend and I broke up and I moved out, I had my IRC friends to bolster my spirits and I had a bunch of horny IRC guys to make sure I got laid.
One guy with whom I had become friends decided he wanted to come visit me.
I think his name was James but to be honest, I've forgotten a lot about him.
I explained to him that I didn't want to sleep with him but if he wanted to come hang out on vacation, that was cool with me.
It didn't take long for me to realize that he had EVERY intention of having sex with me. It also didn't take me long to realize he was a TOTAL loser.
I never invited him to stay at my place so after a few nights in a motel, he confessed to me that he was out of money. "Could I crash at your house for a while?"
Umm...no!
I am not totally heartless. I didn't want him sleeping on the streets so I found him the cheapest, crack-whoringest, gang-riddenest motel a crisp 20 dollar bill would buy and I dropped him off and said "See ya tomorrow!" with a cheerful wave.
I figured out that this guy was persistant. He wasn't going to leave without luring me into his bed (is it my bed if I paid for the room?).
One night, as I was feeding him a bologna sandwich and a lukewarm glass of tap water, I realized that the only way I'd get rid of this parasite was to sleep with him.
He wasn't disgusting, I told myself. It wouldn't be HORRIBLE.
So, I did.
Oh boy, was he EVER excited!
During the act, I got kind of mouthy....
"Oh you like that don't you?"
"Yes! Yes!" he moaned.
"You want me to do that again?"
"Yes, yes! Oh yes!"
"You like it rough, don't you?"
"Oh God, yes!"
"You're leaving first thing in the morning, aren't you?"
"Yes! Oh baby, YES!"
He was on a plane back to Suckerville the very next day.
I giggled with glee all the way back home.
Your Friend,
Skankerella
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Sex, Lies & Fornicate
There was a huge paradigm shift in the universe that is my sex life this weekend.
After knowing a certain member of the male species for several years, we both found ourselves single -at the same time. So, in turn, I found myself packing a bag and driving down a dark lonely Galveston Island road to spend the weekend at his waterfront bachelor pad.
While packing a toothbrush, sexy panties and a book (just in case), I realized how alone in the world I was at that very moment.
No one knew where I was going. If I died on that dark road, how long would it take someone to find me? How long would I be missed?
I guess, if I were dead, it wouldn't matter. But wouldn't everyone wonder what the hell I was doing out there?
I had to tell someone.
You must, dear reader, understand that I'm a VERY private person. This sounds ridiculous coming from someone who has a freaking blog, I know, but no one here REALLY knows me...
Well, except for Lon and that's who I told.
I called Lon who was in San Antonio for her daughter's tennis tournament.
I didn't want to bother her but I thought of all the people I could call she's the only one I could trust with my personal life.
After one "safety" call to one sister, it would take exactly one minute for the rest of the familiy to know that De was taking off to fornicate with a much older man with a nice house on the gulf.
Oh and fornicate we did!
But that's just between us, ok?
After knowing a certain member of the male species for several years, we both found ourselves single -at the same time. So, in turn, I found myself packing a bag and driving down a dark lonely Galveston Island road to spend the weekend at his waterfront bachelor pad.
While packing a toothbrush, sexy panties and a book (just in case), I realized how alone in the world I was at that very moment.
No one knew where I was going. If I died on that dark road, how long would it take someone to find me? How long would I be missed?
I guess, if I were dead, it wouldn't matter. But wouldn't everyone wonder what the hell I was doing out there?
I had to tell someone.
You must, dear reader, understand that I'm a VERY private person. This sounds ridiculous coming from someone who has a freaking blog, I know, but no one here REALLY knows me...
Well, except for Lon and that's who I told.
I called Lon who was in San Antonio for her daughter's tennis tournament.
I didn't want to bother her but I thought of all the people I could call she's the only one I could trust with my personal life.
After one "safety" call to one sister, it would take exactly one minute for the rest of the familiy to know that De was taking off to fornicate with a much older man with a nice house on the gulf.
Oh and fornicate we did!
But that's just between us, ok?
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
AI Lowdown
So, it's almost over.
I almost didn't watch last night because I'm still mourning the loss of Chris.
I want to blame someone so I blame Taylor because I hate that Soul Patrol shit he shouts over and over.
I want to hit someone when he does that so last night, I hit my nephew repeatedly with a throw pillow each time Taylor Hicks twirled his fist like a lost Arsenio Hall audience member and uttered those hateful words.
I voted repeatedly for Elliot and threw a couple Katharine's way because I thought that she sang most of her songs beautifully.
I still say there is something missing with her. She has it all, it would seem but she seems VERY uncomfortable. I don't know if she just hasn't found herself in her music yet or if she's competing for someone else's dream and not her own.
She just seems like a stranger in her own skin and it makes me a little uncomfortable when I watch her.
I thought Elliot was wonderful. I love his voice and his style of singing. I love that he's not some affected pretty boy. He's just a normal guy you'd see on the street any given day.
Katharine's performance of Over the Rainbow was beautiful....except.....what the fuck is she doing on the FLOOR again? How about a stool or sitting on a step? Why is she sprawled out on the floor like she just took a fall down a long flight of stairs?
I just don't get that.
I wanted to hate Taylor. Dancing in the Dark didn't do anything for me. I was happy for that.
Then he sang his second song. Ok...dammit...it was good.
But then he had to go and sing my all-time favorite song, Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding. Why oh why did he have to go and do that?
It was good. It was really good. I didn't like the ending, though. He should have stuck with the "Yagotta gotta gotta..." thing which is just cool.
Anyway...
I can't make any predictions. Everyone is talking about Taylor winning but after the Chris Debacle, I just can't bring myself to choose the lesser of 3 mediocres.
I almost didn't watch last night because I'm still mourning the loss of Chris.
I want to blame someone so I blame Taylor because I hate that Soul Patrol shit he shouts over and over.
I want to hit someone when he does that so last night, I hit my nephew repeatedly with a throw pillow each time Taylor Hicks twirled his fist like a lost Arsenio Hall audience member and uttered those hateful words.
I voted repeatedly for Elliot and threw a couple Katharine's way because I thought that she sang most of her songs beautifully.
I still say there is something missing with her. She has it all, it would seem but she seems VERY uncomfortable. I don't know if she just hasn't found herself in her music yet or if she's competing for someone else's dream and not her own.
She just seems like a stranger in her own skin and it makes me a little uncomfortable when I watch her.
I thought Elliot was wonderful. I love his voice and his style of singing. I love that he's not some affected pretty boy. He's just a normal guy you'd see on the street any given day.
Katharine's performance of Over the Rainbow was beautiful....except.....what the fuck is she doing on the FLOOR again? How about a stool or sitting on a step? Why is she sprawled out on the floor like she just took a fall down a long flight of stairs?
I just don't get that.
I wanted to hate Taylor. Dancing in the Dark didn't do anything for me. I was happy for that.
Then he sang his second song. Ok...dammit...it was good.
But then he had to go and sing my all-time favorite song, Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding. Why oh why did he have to go and do that?
It was good. It was really good. I didn't like the ending, though. He should have stuck with the "Yagotta gotta gotta..." thing which is just cool.
Anyway...
I can't make any predictions. Everyone is talking about Taylor winning but after the Chris Debacle, I just can't bring myself to choose the lesser of 3 mediocres.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Just Stuff
I don't really have anything to blog about.
I could regale you with my day to day activities but please...how boring is that?
I could tell you that this weekend seemed like it lasted years.
Saturday, Zoe woke me up whining. Much like mothers can tell the difference in their child's cry, I could tell this wasn't a normal I-need-to-go-out whine.
She seemed to be in pain and scared. She was walking strangely and her legs would give out on her when she would walk.
I waited an hour or so to see if it was just a muscle cramp or she might have pulled something jumping off the bed but she was obviously suffering so, knowing that the vet closed at noon and wouldn't open again until Monday, I got up, threw on some clothes and ran to the vet's office.
I know how difficult it must be to diagnose a patient who can't speak and tell you what hurts. I know that the vet relies heavily on what the owners can tell him about the dog's behavior but I get in that office and suddenly I can't remember anything or worse, I just start babbling and later wonder "Why the hell did I say that?".
He checked her out by feeling her ribs, spine, hip joints, leg joints and taking her temperature. He concluded that she must have injured her right hip possibly jumping off the bed. He gave her a shot, shoved an envelope of meds at me and sent me on my way....on my way to the receptionist to shell out $57.
I guess it could have been worse....but whatever it takes to make her feel better.
I had to then rush home and start getting ready...I had a funeral to go to.
A friend's husband died right before Hurricane Rita and a graveside service was refused because everyone was evacuating.
She wanted to do it when everyone got back and got themselves settled in but then her stepdaughter died and then she went into the hospital for several weeks.
After all the shit, she finally decided to hold a memorial service at his grave.
After a belated start and in the middle of my mother's eulogy, someone yelled, "We've got a man down!".
It wasn't scorching hot but the sun was beating down pretty hard and if you weren't under the shade of the canopy, you were going to get pretty hot. This older gentleman was standing in the direct sunlight and I guess it got to be too much, he just fell over.
Some people tried to help him up and he was even getting up on his own but suddenly he collapsed again and I could see his face. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his skin was white as a sheet and he started convulsing.
I didn't have my purse with me but I yelled for someone to call 911.
Luckily someone had provided a cooler of ice and bottle of water. While we waited for the ambulance, he was bathed in water and even some old lady had her oxygen tank with her so we put him on oxygen.
It was so surreal seeing the ambulance pull up next to all the headstones and roll a gurney out to pick up this man.
What's even MORE surreal is that after he was taken away, THEY FINISHED THE SERVICE!
My mom gave the rest of the eulogy and we said our goodbyes and we left to eat BBQ at the widow's house.
I had a date for that evening but I called the guy and told him there was just no way. All I wanted was to crawl into bed, watch TV and take care of my hurting dog.
We promised my mother that we'd go with her to church on Sunday for Mother's Day.
Thankfully, church isn't like it used to be when I was growing up. You were required to dress up in your best clothing and to feel like a loser and a heathen going straight to hell if you didn't look as good as everyone else.
Now days, people wear shorts, capris and jeans to church.
I guess someone realized that it's not about the clothes, it's about the worship.
Novel idea, isn't it?
I wore jeans. I wasn't struck down by the mighty hand of God, either.
After church, we took Mom to Chabuca's where everyone else obviously took their mother, too.
This place is great. Not only do they have a huge buffet, but if you order the rodizio, they come around with huge slabs of meat on great big swords and will carve hunks of the meat off onto your plate.
In the middle of the meal, a storm blew in. It was thundering and lightning and the lights kept flickering on and off.
We decided to order coffee and dessert to wait out the storm. Great excuse.
My mom said she had a great time. My sisters got on my nerves.
I'm not sure if Mom's lying or oblivious.
I could regale you with my day to day activities but please...how boring is that?
I could tell you that this weekend seemed like it lasted years.
Saturday, Zoe woke me up whining. Much like mothers can tell the difference in their child's cry, I could tell this wasn't a normal I-need-to-go-out whine.
She seemed to be in pain and scared. She was walking strangely and her legs would give out on her when she would walk.
I waited an hour or so to see if it was just a muscle cramp or she might have pulled something jumping off the bed but she was obviously suffering so, knowing that the vet closed at noon and wouldn't open again until Monday, I got up, threw on some clothes and ran to the vet's office.
I know how difficult it must be to diagnose a patient who can't speak and tell you what hurts. I know that the vet relies heavily on what the owners can tell him about the dog's behavior but I get in that office and suddenly I can't remember anything or worse, I just start babbling and later wonder "Why the hell did I say that?".
He checked her out by feeling her ribs, spine, hip joints, leg joints and taking her temperature. He concluded that she must have injured her right hip possibly jumping off the bed. He gave her a shot, shoved an envelope of meds at me and sent me on my way....on my way to the receptionist to shell out $57.
I guess it could have been worse....but whatever it takes to make her feel better.
I had to then rush home and start getting ready...I had a funeral to go to.
A friend's husband died right before Hurricane Rita and a graveside service was refused because everyone was evacuating.
She wanted to do it when everyone got back and got themselves settled in but then her stepdaughter died and then she went into the hospital for several weeks.
After all the shit, she finally decided to hold a memorial service at his grave.
After a belated start and in the middle of my mother's eulogy, someone yelled, "We've got a man down!".
It wasn't scorching hot but the sun was beating down pretty hard and if you weren't under the shade of the canopy, you were going to get pretty hot. This older gentleman was standing in the direct sunlight and I guess it got to be too much, he just fell over.
Some people tried to help him up and he was even getting up on his own but suddenly he collapsed again and I could see his face. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his skin was white as a sheet and he started convulsing.
I didn't have my purse with me but I yelled for someone to call 911.
Luckily someone had provided a cooler of ice and bottle of water. While we waited for the ambulance, he was bathed in water and even some old lady had her oxygen tank with her so we put him on oxygen.
It was so surreal seeing the ambulance pull up next to all the headstones and roll a gurney out to pick up this man.
What's even MORE surreal is that after he was taken away, THEY FINISHED THE SERVICE!
My mom gave the rest of the eulogy and we said our goodbyes and we left to eat BBQ at the widow's house.
I had a date for that evening but I called the guy and told him there was just no way. All I wanted was to crawl into bed, watch TV and take care of my hurting dog.
We promised my mother that we'd go with her to church on Sunday for Mother's Day.
Thankfully, church isn't like it used to be when I was growing up. You were required to dress up in your best clothing and to feel like a loser and a heathen going straight to hell if you didn't look as good as everyone else.
Now days, people wear shorts, capris and jeans to church.
I guess someone realized that it's not about the clothes, it's about the worship.
Novel idea, isn't it?
I wore jeans. I wasn't struck down by the mighty hand of God, either.
After church, we took Mom to Chabuca's where everyone else obviously took their mother, too.
This place is great. Not only do they have a huge buffet, but if you order the rodizio, they come around with huge slabs of meat on great big swords and will carve hunks of the meat off onto your plate.
In the middle of the meal, a storm blew in. It was thundering and lightning and the lights kept flickering on and off.
We decided to order coffee and dessert to wait out the storm. Great excuse.
My mom said she had a great time. My sisters got on my nerves.
I'm not sure if Mom's lying or oblivious.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Floating
Shank wonders what is really floating around in his water.
That post reminded me of a time when something was in MY water.
I was living with my boyfriend many years ago. We were just hanging around the house one day.
I made myself a glass of water, sat down, took a few sips, set the glass down on the table next to the chair, then got up and walked away for a few minutes. I have no idea how long I was gone or what I was doing but later I returned to my chair and my glass of water while the boyfriend was sitting on the floor in front of the TV doing who-knows-what.
I was taking a sip of my water just as he turned and looked at me. "NOOOOoooOOOoooo!" he screamed and lunged for me in what seemed like slow motion.
I swallowed and said "Oh my God! What?????"
"Umm...Nevermind. Nothing." He said, the look of horror still visible on his face.
I nearly hauled him up by the scruff of his neck. "I don't think so, dammit! You better tell me what's wrong!"
He became frightened. "Well, I didn't know that was your water. I was working over here and suddenly I had to...well...I...uhhh.....I didn't want to get up so I hocked a lugee in the glass. De...Babe....I'm so sorry...oh God...are you ok? Want me to hold your hair?" he yelled at my back as I ran down the hall to the bathroom.
Any question as to why he's now my EX-boyfriend???
That post reminded me of a time when something was in MY water.
I was living with my boyfriend many years ago. We were just hanging around the house one day.
I made myself a glass of water, sat down, took a few sips, set the glass down on the table next to the chair, then got up and walked away for a few minutes. I have no idea how long I was gone or what I was doing but later I returned to my chair and my glass of water while the boyfriend was sitting on the floor in front of the TV doing who-knows-what.
I was taking a sip of my water just as he turned and looked at me. "NOOOOoooOOOoooo!" he screamed and lunged for me in what seemed like slow motion.
I swallowed and said "Oh my God! What?????"
"Umm...Nevermind. Nothing." He said, the look of horror still visible on his face.
I nearly hauled him up by the scruff of his neck. "I don't think so, dammit! You better tell me what's wrong!"
He became frightened. "Well, I didn't know that was your water. I was working over here and suddenly I had to...well...I...uhhh.....I didn't want to get up so I hocked a lugee in the glass. De...Babe....I'm so sorry...oh God...are you ok? Want me to hold your hair?" he yelled at my back as I ran down the hall to the bathroom.
Any question as to why he's now my EX-boyfriend???
Thursday, May 11, 2006
American Idol, You Are Dead To Me!
That's pretty much what I told my friend, Lon, last night.
Shock just isn't the right word to describe what I felt when Chris was voted off American Idol.
I'm not the only one who has been saying that Chris was going to win the whole deal but we were wrong and I just don't know why.
Maybe since everyone knew he was going to win, they stopped voting for him thinking "why bother?".
That means that out of the 3 remaining people, one of them will be the American Idol. They're good but they're not THAT good.
Taylor is fun to watch. He's interesting and different but like Lon said, he belongs in a musical review in Branson, Missouri, not the winner of American Idol.
And let me just say this...if I hear that grey-haired mother fucker say "Soul Patrol" while twirling his fist in the air ONE MORE TIME, I'm going to find a gun and fucking SHOOT someone!
Tuesday night, while Ryan was talking to him after his performance, I kept thinking "Don't say it...don't say it...." Well, not only did he say it, he said it TWICE. DAMMMIT!
Katharine is exquisite and lovely. She's got a great voice but she's uncomfortable and therefore, makes me uncomfortable when she performs.
If Chris can't win, then I think it should be Elliot. Besides Chris, no one else has been consistantly good and getting better each week. He's got a great attitude and a really good voice.
Honestly, I'm not even interested anymore. The whole reason I watched was to see Chris and find out what he was going to do with the chosen songs next.
I'm not worried about Chris, though. He'll have a recording contract in no time and I can't wait to buy his CD.
As to how McPhee has gotten this far, I think she's riding the panty vote but if she expects to win the whole thing, she might have to start showing more than her panties. We want a full-frontal wardrobe malfunction.
Shock just isn't the right word to describe what I felt when Chris was voted off American Idol.
I'm not the only one who has been saying that Chris was going to win the whole deal but we were wrong and I just don't know why.
Maybe since everyone knew he was going to win, they stopped voting for him thinking "why bother?".
That means that out of the 3 remaining people, one of them will be the American Idol. They're good but they're not THAT good.
Taylor is fun to watch. He's interesting and different but like Lon said, he belongs in a musical review in Branson, Missouri, not the winner of American Idol.
And let me just say this...if I hear that grey-haired mother fucker say "Soul Patrol" while twirling his fist in the air ONE MORE TIME, I'm going to find a gun and fucking SHOOT someone!
Tuesday night, while Ryan was talking to him after his performance, I kept thinking "Don't say it...don't say it...." Well, not only did he say it, he said it TWICE. DAMMMIT!
Katharine is exquisite and lovely. She's got a great voice but she's uncomfortable and therefore, makes me uncomfortable when she performs.
If Chris can't win, then I think it should be Elliot. Besides Chris, no one else has been consistantly good and getting better each week. He's got a great attitude and a really good voice.
Honestly, I'm not even interested anymore. The whole reason I watched was to see Chris and find out what he was going to do with the chosen songs next.
I'm not worried about Chris, though. He'll have a recording contract in no time and I can't wait to buy his CD.
As to how McPhee has gotten this far, I think she's riding the panty vote but if she expects to win the whole thing, she might have to start showing more than her panties. We want a full-frontal wardrobe malfunction.
Tuesday, May 9, 2006
It's All About De's Favorite Things
Yes, kids...it's about that time.
My birthday is just over a month away. This gives you plenty of time to shop!
If all else fail, a sincere wish for good will is gift enough for me!
My birthday is just over a month away. This gives you plenty of time to shop!
- What self-proclaimed purse-loving gal could resist a Fendi Spy Bag...much less THIS one or THIS one?
- I can't believe it! An Anna Sui fragrance I don't own: Secret Wish.
- Not only do I need a 1 GB flash drive, I need one in pink!
- I've decided that I need a little funky stuff in my life. I want to throw out all my old traditional furniture and start over with something cool, starting with this couch, in crushed red velvet! Nothing says "whore house" like red velvet!
- I bought and filled one of these journals. It was one of my very favorites!
- From the world of Bath & Body Works: Japanese Cherry Blossom and Brown Sugar & Fig. My absolute FAVORITES!
- I have a whole Amazon Wishlist full of wonderful crap!
If all else fail, a sincere wish for good will is gift enough for me!
Wednesday, May 3, 2006
The Happy Gene
I received a strange compliment the other day.
I was in charge of picking up two of my sisters and driving us all to our monthly pokeno game.
I started with sister #3, then drove the two blocks to sister #2. I went inside to tell her I was there because I knew she wouldn't hear my tiny, pathetic little horn.
When I went back outside, my brother in law, nephew and a friend of their's were standing at the top of the driveway so I stopped and we chatted about baseball for a few moments while sister #2 was frantically running around her house trying to gather her things.
Later, as we were driving down the highway, sister #3 said, "De, I have to tell you something. When you were talking to Brother in Law in the driveway, I was watching you and thought to myself, 'She sure looks like a fun person!'."
I was a little surprised for several reasons.
1. Sister #3 rarely compliments anyone or says anything nice at all.
2. How does someone look fun without a big red nose and a rainbow wig?
3. She's known me since the day I was born. Why is she just NOW realizing this? HELL YEAH...I'm totally fun!
I don't brag about myself much because, let's face it, there is not much to brag about but if someone ever wants me to tell them something about myself, the word "fun" always comes up.
I am a hell of a lot of fun.
I think it's because that basically, I'm a happy person.
Sure, I get down and depressed. I get beaten down by life sometimes, but I ALWAYS bounce back and I always find something to be happy about.
Most of my sisters are that way. Well...except for #3. She got the hateful gene.
I think we learned this from my mother.
She didn't have a great life. She made a lot of mistakes that she is still paying for to this day.
She made decisions that has made her life difficult and she's had to work hard her entire life.
She was a young single mother of three when it wasn't popular to be a divorced, working mother. But she was fun.
She laughed..a lot. She still does.
She's lost a lot in her life; her parents, beloved aunts and uncles, her husband, her grandson, but she keeps a smile on her face most of the time and she still laughs.
I guess she's passed down that valuable trait.
I was in charge of picking up two of my sisters and driving us all to our monthly pokeno game.
I started with sister #3, then drove the two blocks to sister #2. I went inside to tell her I was there because I knew she wouldn't hear my tiny, pathetic little horn.
When I went back outside, my brother in law, nephew and a friend of their's were standing at the top of the driveway so I stopped and we chatted about baseball for a few moments while sister #2 was frantically running around her house trying to gather her things.
Later, as we were driving down the highway, sister #3 said, "De, I have to tell you something. When you were talking to Brother in Law in the driveway, I was watching you and thought to myself, 'She sure looks like a fun person!'."
I was a little surprised for several reasons.
1. Sister #3 rarely compliments anyone or says anything nice at all.
2. How does someone look fun without a big red nose and a rainbow wig?
3. She's known me since the day I was born. Why is she just NOW realizing this? HELL YEAH...I'm totally fun!
I don't brag about myself much because, let's face it, there is not much to brag about but if someone ever wants me to tell them something about myself, the word "fun" always comes up.
I am a hell of a lot of fun.
I think it's because that basically, I'm a happy person.
Sure, I get down and depressed. I get beaten down by life sometimes, but I ALWAYS bounce back and I always find something to be happy about.
Most of my sisters are that way. Well...except for #3. She got the hateful gene.
I think we learned this from my mother.
She didn't have a great life. She made a lot of mistakes that she is still paying for to this day.
She made decisions that has made her life difficult and she's had to work hard her entire life.
She was a young single mother of three when it wasn't popular to be a divorced, working mother. But she was fun.
She laughed..a lot. She still does.
She's lost a lot in her life; her parents, beloved aunts and uncles, her husband, her grandson, but she keeps a smile on her face most of the time and she still laughs.
I guess she's passed down that valuable trait.
Responsibility
It's not a new argument. Responsibility in it's many forms has been a subject of debate for millions of years.
Who takes responsibility for this, who takes it for that.
I am a huge believer in taking responsibility for yourself. That sounds easy, right? I know you're thinking to yourself, "Duh, idiot! That's a pretty bland belief." But, I think you'd be surprised at the number of people who constantly blame something or someone for pretty much everything that goes wrong in their lives.
Parents are the most popular people to blame and in a lot of cases, it's warranted.
Parents shoulder a HUGE responsibility the minute that child is conceived. Mothers are responsible for taking care of their bodies while that child is growing inside.
Once the baby is born, the parents share the responsibility of making sure the child has food, healthcare, love and direction.
I know many people who think that if they feed and clothe their kids, they've done a great job.
Of course, I'm no expert. I don't have any kids of my own but I'm also not retarded and I think it's common sense to know that as a parent, you're responsible for shaping that young, impressionable child into a strong, intelligent, capable adult.
Obviously, not many people have that kind of common sense. There are worthless, dirtbag parents all over this world.
But once that child is an adult with a fully-functioning brain and knows right from wrong, who is responsible for that adult? The parents?
I don't think so.
There comes a time in a person's life when they have to start taking responsibility for themselves. They have to say, "Hey, if I want something different for my life, I have to make those changes myself."
It's too easy to blame your fuck ups on other people or other things...like drugs.
The whole reason why I'm talking about this is because of this story.
I'm sure a lot of you have heard about it because it's so horrid, so revolting.
The victim is still in critical condition.
The suspect that was interviewed is blaming his crime on drugs.
He was high on Xanax, cocaine, marijuana and vodka. It wasn't this former neo-nazi's fault. It was the unimaginable amount of drugs and alcohol he had willingly consumed that night.
It's possible the drugs could have jumped down his throat, up his nose and in his lungs themselves. Gosh, the poor guy. He's not responsible for any of this.
Who takes responsibility for this, who takes it for that.
I am a huge believer in taking responsibility for yourself. That sounds easy, right? I know you're thinking to yourself, "Duh, idiot! That's a pretty bland belief." But, I think you'd be surprised at the number of people who constantly blame something or someone for pretty much everything that goes wrong in their lives.
Parents are the most popular people to blame and in a lot of cases, it's warranted.
Parents shoulder a HUGE responsibility the minute that child is conceived. Mothers are responsible for taking care of their bodies while that child is growing inside.
Once the baby is born, the parents share the responsibility of making sure the child has food, healthcare, love and direction.
I know many people who think that if they feed and clothe their kids, they've done a great job.
Of course, I'm no expert. I don't have any kids of my own but I'm also not retarded and I think it's common sense to know that as a parent, you're responsible for shaping that young, impressionable child into a strong, intelligent, capable adult.
Obviously, not many people have that kind of common sense. There are worthless, dirtbag parents all over this world.
But once that child is an adult with a fully-functioning brain and knows right from wrong, who is responsible for that adult? The parents?
I don't think so.
There comes a time in a person's life when they have to start taking responsibility for themselves. They have to say, "Hey, if I want something different for my life, I have to make those changes myself."
It's too easy to blame your fuck ups on other people or other things...like drugs.
The whole reason why I'm talking about this is because of this story.
I'm sure a lot of you have heard about it because it's so horrid, so revolting.
Investigators say in a backyard in Spring, he and Turner not only beat a 17-year-old boy nearly to death, but also sodomized him with a plastic pipe and all because the Hispanic victim kissed a 12-year-old girl.
The victim is still in critical condition.
The suspect that was interviewed is blaming his crime on drugs.
He was high on Xanax, cocaine, marijuana and vodka. It wasn't this former neo-nazi's fault. It was the unimaginable amount of drugs and alcohol he had willingly consumed that night.
It's possible the drugs could have jumped down his throat, up his nose and in his lungs themselves. Gosh, the poor guy. He's not responsible for any of this.
A.I. Recap
I haven't posted any American Idol stuff in a while...well except for Katharine McPhee's panty post which is getting me about 150 hits a day!
There are people sitting in law offices, military bases and universities googling "McPhee's panties" and hitting my blog over 150 times a day! What the fuck, people???
Anyway...
Elliot: Big fan. I love this guy. When I heard he was going to sing "On Broadway", I knew he'd do a great job. The judges weren't bowled over but I thought he was great. His modern song was REALLY good. I wasn't familiar with it before but I loved his performance.
I love Elliot's mother out there in the audience. She is the cutest thing EVER.
Paris: I was WORRIED when I read she was singing Kiss by Prince...and a little depressed because that shit came out when I was in HIGHSCHOOL!
That song is too weird for anyone to cover. Only Prince call pull that off. Sorry, kid.
I thought she did a good job with the Mary J. Blige cover. I was surprised.
Chris: Oh c'mon. You know what I'm going to say. Freakin STYX??? STYX! He sang that shit better than Tommy Shaw.
I really like Shinedown. They are surprisingly a newish band that I really like. Chris tore it up but I agree with the judges; it sounds like his voice is trying to go out on him.
Katharine: Something was WRONG with that song. I adore the Phil Collins version of this song but the key was WAY WAY WAY off. It was unrecognizable and definitely not good.
That weird Black Horse Cherry Tree song was a good choice, she performed it well....on the floor....WEIRD. I don't think it was working for her. She was trying to be all Madonna-Like-a-Virgin but it looked more like Old-Lady-I've-Fallen-and-I-Can't-Get-Up.
Taylor: Oh Lord. Ok...even the original artist doesn't sing this song well but who doesn't love to sing along to "Play That Funky Music, White Boy"? Shit, you know I was embarrasing the hell out of myself singing at the top of my lungs.
The Beatles cover? Beautiful.
My guess for who's getting booted tonight?
Paris.
Just. Not. Getting. It.
There are people sitting in law offices, military bases and universities googling "McPhee's panties" and hitting my blog over 150 times a day! What the fuck, people???
Anyway...
Elliot: Big fan. I love this guy. When I heard he was going to sing "On Broadway", I knew he'd do a great job. The judges weren't bowled over but I thought he was great. His modern song was REALLY good. I wasn't familiar with it before but I loved his performance.
I love Elliot's mother out there in the audience. She is the cutest thing EVER.
Paris: I was WORRIED when I read she was singing Kiss by Prince...and a little depressed because that shit came out when I was in HIGHSCHOOL!
That song is too weird for anyone to cover. Only Prince call pull that off. Sorry, kid.
I thought she did a good job with the Mary J. Blige cover. I was surprised.
Chris: Oh c'mon. You know what I'm going to say. Freakin STYX??? STYX! He sang that shit better than Tommy Shaw.
I really like Shinedown. They are surprisingly a newish band that I really like. Chris tore it up but I agree with the judges; it sounds like his voice is trying to go out on him.
Katharine: Something was WRONG with that song. I adore the Phil Collins version of this song but the key was WAY WAY WAY off. It was unrecognizable and definitely not good.
That weird Black Horse Cherry Tree song was a good choice, she performed it well....on the floor....WEIRD. I don't think it was working for her. She was trying to be all Madonna-Like-a-Virgin but it looked more like Old-Lady-I've-Fallen-and-I-Can't-Get-Up.
Taylor: Oh Lord. Ok...even the original artist doesn't sing this song well but who doesn't love to sing along to "Play That Funky Music, White Boy"? Shit, you know I was embarrasing the hell out of myself singing at the top of my lungs.
The Beatles cover? Beautiful.
My guess for who's getting booted tonight?
Paris.
Just. Not. Getting. It.
The Happy Gene
I received a strange compliment the other day.
I was in charge of picking up two of my sisters and driving us all to our monthly pokeno game.
I started with sister #3, then drove the two blocks to sister #2. I went inside to tell her I was there because I knew she wouldn't hear my tiny, pathetic little horn.
When I went back outside, my brother in law, nephew and a friend of their's were standing at the top of the driveway so I stopped and we chatted about baseball for a few moments while sister #2 was frantically running around her house trying to gather her things.
Later, as we were driving down the highway, sister #3 said, "De, I have to tell you something. When you were talking to Brother in Law in the driveway, I was watching you and thought to myself, 'She sure looks like a fun person!'."
I was a little surprised for several reasons.
1. Sister #3 rarely compliments anyone or says anything nice at all.
2. How does someone look fun without a big red nose and a rainbow wig?
3. She's known me since the day I was born. Why is she just NOW realizing this? HELL YEAH...I'm totally fun!
I don't brag about myself much because, let's face it, there is not much to brag about but if someone ever wants me to tell them something about myself, the word "fun" always comes up.
I am a hell of a lot of fun.
I think it's because that basically, I'm a happy person.
Sure, I get down and depressed. I get beaten down by life sometimes, but I ALWAYS bounce back and I always find something to be happy about.
Most of my sisters are that way. Well...except for #3. She got the hateful gene.
I think we learned this from my mother.
She didn't have a great life. She made a lot of mistakes that she is still paying for to this day.
She made decisions that has made her life difficult and she's had to work hard her entire life.
She was a young single mother of three when it wasn't popular to be a divorced, working mother. But she was fun.
She laughed..a lot. She still does.
She's lost a lot in her life; her parents, beloved aunts and uncles, her husband, her grandson, but she keeps a smile on her face most of the time and she still laughs.
I guess she's passed down that valuable trait.
I was in charge of picking up two of my sisters and driving us all to our monthly pokeno game.
I started with sister #3, then drove the two blocks to sister #2. I went inside to tell her I was there because I knew she wouldn't hear my tiny, pathetic little horn.
When I went back outside, my brother in law, nephew and a friend of their's were standing at the top of the driveway so I stopped and we chatted about baseball for a few moments while sister #2 was frantically running around her house trying to gather her things.
Later, as we were driving down the highway, sister #3 said, "De, I have to tell you something. When you were talking to Brother in Law in the driveway, I was watching you and thought to myself, 'She sure looks like a fun person!'."
I was a little surprised for several reasons.
1. Sister #3 rarely compliments anyone or says anything nice at all.
2. How does someone look fun without a big red nose and a rainbow wig?
3. She's known me since the day I was born. Why is she just NOW realizing this? HELL YEAH...I'm totally fun!
I don't brag about myself much because, let's face it, there is not much to brag about but if someone ever wants me to tell them something about myself, the word "fun" always comes up.
I am a hell of a lot of fun.
I think it's because that basically, I'm a happy person.
Sure, I get down and depressed. I get beaten down by life sometimes, but I ALWAYS bounce back and I always find something to be happy about.
Most of my sisters are that way. Well...except for #3. She got the hateful gene.
I think we learned this from my mother.
She didn't have a great life. She made a lot of mistakes that she is still paying for to this day.
She made decisions that has made her life difficult and she's had to work hard her entire life.
She was a young single mother of three when it wasn't popular to be a divorced, working mother. But she was fun.
She laughed..a lot. She still does.
She's lost a lot in her life; her parents, beloved aunts and uncles, her husband, her grandson, but she keeps a smile on her face most of the time and she still laughs.
I guess she's passed down that valuable trait.
Responsibility
It's not a new argument. Responsibility in it's many forms has been a subject of debate for millions of years.
Who takes responsibility for this, who takes it for that.
I am a huge believer in taking responsibility for yourself. That sounds easy, right? I know you're thinking to yourself, "Duh, idiot! That's a pretty bland belief." But, I think you'd be surprised at the number of people who constantly blame something or someone for pretty much everything that goes wrong in their lives.
Parents are the most popular people to blame and in a lot of cases, it's warranted.
Parents shoulder a HUGE responsibility the minute that child is conceived. Mothers are responsible for taking care of their bodies while that child is growing inside.
Once the baby is born, the parents share the responsibility of making sure the child has food, healthcare, love and direction.
I know many people who think that if they feed and clothe their kids, they've done a great job.
Of course, I'm no expert. I don't have any kids of my own but I'm also not retarded and I think it's common sense to know that as a parent, you're responsible for shaping that young, impressionable child into a strong, intelligent, capable adult.
Obviously, not many people have that kind of common sense. There are worthless, dirtbag parents all over this world.
But once that child is an adult with a fully-functioning brain and knows right from wrong, who is responsible for that adult? The parents?
I don't think so.
There comes a time in a person's life when they have to start taking responsibility for themselves. They have to say, "Hey, if I want something different for my life, I have to make those changes myself."
It's too easy to blame your fuck ups on other people or other things...like drugs.
The whole reason why I'm talking about this is because of this story.
I'm sure a lot of you have heard about it because it's so horrid, so revolting.
The victim is still in critical condition.
The suspect that was interviewed is blaming his crime on drugs.
He was high on Xanax, cocaine, marijuana and vodka. It wasn't this former neo-nazi's fault. It was the unimaginable amount of drugs and alcohol he had willingly consumed that night.
It's possible the drugs could have jumped down his throat, up his nose and in his lungs themselves. Gosh, the poor guy. He's not responsible for any of this.
Who takes responsibility for this, who takes it for that.
I am a huge believer in taking responsibility for yourself. That sounds easy, right? I know you're thinking to yourself, "Duh, idiot! That's a pretty bland belief." But, I think you'd be surprised at the number of people who constantly blame something or someone for pretty much everything that goes wrong in their lives.
Parents are the most popular people to blame and in a lot of cases, it's warranted.
Parents shoulder a HUGE responsibility the minute that child is conceived. Mothers are responsible for taking care of their bodies while that child is growing inside.
Once the baby is born, the parents share the responsibility of making sure the child has food, healthcare, love and direction.
I know many people who think that if they feed and clothe their kids, they've done a great job.
Of course, I'm no expert. I don't have any kids of my own but I'm also not retarded and I think it's common sense to know that as a parent, you're responsible for shaping that young, impressionable child into a strong, intelligent, capable adult.
Obviously, not many people have that kind of common sense. There are worthless, dirtbag parents all over this world.
But once that child is an adult with a fully-functioning brain and knows right from wrong, who is responsible for that adult? The parents?
I don't think so.
There comes a time in a person's life when they have to start taking responsibility for themselves. They have to say, "Hey, if I want something different for my life, I have to make those changes myself."
It's too easy to blame your fuck ups on other people or other things...like drugs.
The whole reason why I'm talking about this is because of this story.
I'm sure a lot of you have heard about it because it's so horrid, so revolting.
Investigators say in a backyard in Spring, he and Turner not only beat a 17-year-old boy nearly to death, but also sodomized him with a plastic pipe and all because the Hispanic victim kissed a 12-year-old girl.
The victim is still in critical condition.
The suspect that was interviewed is blaming his crime on drugs.
He was high on Xanax, cocaine, marijuana and vodka. It wasn't this former neo-nazi's fault. It was the unimaginable amount of drugs and alcohol he had willingly consumed that night.
It's possible the drugs could have jumped down his throat, up his nose and in his lungs themselves. Gosh, the poor guy. He's not responsible for any of this.
Tuesday, May 2, 2006
De Who?
So, I finally finished this completely unethical paper I've been working on.
Seriously, I was still researching and writing right up until the last hour. It's been a long time since I had to do any type of school work but some things never change.
I actually enjoyed this. It was for another person's literature class and I learned so much from it.
It ALMOST makes me want to go back to school....almost.
In the midst of all this, I finally broke ties with a toxic friend. It was a long time coming but I was always afraid to take that step. It's always a scary prospect when you do something like this because sometimes like Steven Tyler sings, you don't know whatcha got til it's gone.
I wrote this person a scathing letter(email) because they decided they weren't going to speak to me again for the upteenth time. Fuck that. I'm not going to let someone else decide when it's time to talk to me.
So, I spilled my ugly guts. I unleashed some heinous crap that I knew once it came out, it couldn't be taken back with an "I'm sorry I called you a miserable bastard." or "I didn't mean for 'You're a sorry mother fucker' to come out like that."
To be honest, once it was out there, I was relieved. I knew that I wouldn't have to deal with this situation again once I unloaded.
I feel free finally.
Free and easy.
Heavy on the easy.
Seriously, I was still researching and writing right up until the last hour. It's been a long time since I had to do any type of school work but some things never change.
I actually enjoyed this. It was for another person's literature class and I learned so much from it.
It ALMOST makes me want to go back to school....almost.
In the midst of all this, I finally broke ties with a toxic friend. It was a long time coming but I was always afraid to take that step. It's always a scary prospect when you do something like this because sometimes like Steven Tyler sings, you don't know whatcha got til it's gone.
I wrote this person a scathing letter(email) because they decided they weren't going to speak to me again for the upteenth time. Fuck that. I'm not going to let someone else decide when it's time to talk to me.
So, I spilled my ugly guts. I unleashed some heinous crap that I knew once it came out, it couldn't be taken back with an "I'm sorry I called you a miserable bastard." or "I didn't mean for 'You're a sorry mother fucker' to come out like that."
To be honest, once it was out there, I was relieved. I knew that I wouldn't have to deal with this situation again once I unloaded.
I feel free finally.
Free and easy.
Heavy on the easy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)