i suppose i have to pay tribute to some of the kids on FR. give props ye know. i spend much of my time with them, so i owe them all at least that much. after all, enduring me for this many years deserves something. sadly, these are what keeps me smiling everyday...

tim - lil kim just slapped me, brb. back.
tara - you dealt the deathblow to jennison.
chris - one hour. and i do intend on using the crossbow.
greg - cream/scream... whateva
elin - you, me and baby oil. EEK!
frank - follow loda. follow loda. christ, PARTY LEAD!
brian - nice cowboy hat.
jon - wet feet.
doug - toots.
ricky - shake yer thang thang.
jeremy - hey mama.
blake - angel.
cody - nice goat. please refrain from fucking it.
drew - wink. slap. block. hunt. lick. unblock. wink.
erik - violation. conversion. pussy.
randy - everybody does love furball
nick - youre not harmless. quit playin'

im such a bitch. see jon, i AM! i forgot some. oh well youll all get over it. i am the one and only BEER WENCH!

last time im ever nice to any of you guys. after all, i have an image to uphold.

ouch.
hangover. bad. very.

however, in my drunken stooper last nite, i came to an enlightening, yet horribly depressing realization. i do not want, nor need, a man in my life right now. at all. frankly, its just more trouble than its worth at this point. i have too much going on with me that i need to be selfish for awhile.

but damn, i miss having someone to fall asleep next to. to wake up next to. to breathe stink in my face as a welcome to the new day. to complain about the subzero temperatures i insist upon sleeping in. to endure the nightly ritual of watching 'fight club' as a method of falling asleep. to uncover my feet when i kick wildly in my sleep trying to free them. to never really understand the constant, repetitive nightmares, but lie and pretend to. to kiss me softly on the forehead just because...

too bad cadavers are so creepy. and clammy. least it would be a body to sleep next to. without all the expectations and disappointments. and i could get away with saying things like "honey, you are so dead sexy" and "i see dead people"...

geezus h.

just for the record, im tired of men getting me drunk and making me cry. so tonite, hats off to the two guilty douchebags.

heres to you Jack & the Captain.
oh how i loathe thee.

for so many reasons, and in so many ways.
i cant help but feel bad. something that i hadnt anticipated feeling about the whole situation. i didnt mean to hurt anybody. not that i didnt know i would be, just that i wished i didnt have to. maybe i was being selfish, hell, i know i was.

every healed wound began to reopen when she explained her situation. the single unraveling strand that wove my past to the present was wrapping it self around my neck. i know how i felt. ive been there. wondering who the man laying next to me was. wondering where the one i married went. after time, everything becomes so familiar you cant even recognize who you were. who he was. everytime he touches you, your skin crawls. get away from me, i dont want you to touch me. the touch that used to be safe and comfortable, has become invading and scolding. you want to be there. be with him, but your mind is on so many levels. none that he is on. for every step forward, he pulls you three back. obligated. he falls, you pick him up again. its not so much that youre frustrated he fell, just exhausted that he wont move forward. theres no connection. no meaning. just two rings and lost vows. and just when you thought it was you, that you were somehow unlovable, unworthy, someone opens the door. offers you a hand. reminds you that there is more to life than this. reminds you that youre beautiful. reminds you how to smile...

i know why i stepped in. i dont question that. theres things that i could see, that she wouldnt allow herself to. and ill be damned if i will let anyone hurt her. at any cost. even if it hurts others i suppose. maybe i didnt have to be so harsh. so blatantly vicious. maybe i brought too much of my own skeletons into it. maybe i shouldnt have reveled in his defeat. you are nothing but a dirty fucking liar. maybe he was right. maybe he wasnt. but at any length, and at any cost. i did what i had to do. even if that meant compromising all that i stand for to protect her. to protect me. youre damn right i keep my heart guarded. but i keep my eyes open.

yes, i feel bad. but i dont feel wrong.

you fuck with her, you fuck with me. either way, ill bite back like a rabid dog.

hot damn! its been in the 50s/60s here for a few consecutive days now. granted, its shitty as hell outside. rainy and such. but im not one to complain as long as the snow doesnt rear its uglyass head again. which can only mean one thing... rummage sale time baybee! not only do i occasionally indulge in finding a diamond in the rough, but moreso, i get the itch (not that itch sickos) to sell off all my shit. this year, more than ever, that needs to be a reality. ive gathered a stockpile of needless belongings that im sure no one else will want either. however, i do recall the time the newspaper 'mistakenly' switched our ad wording to "kids clothes, adult movies" instead of vise versa. the little slip brought in a larger crowd. unfortunately not the type that wants to purchase maturnity clothes and sewing supplies. wonder if i, witty as i am, can even come up with something as clever as that for this years festivities...

[smirk]

so i got asked out on a 'date' tonite. it was more like tara tellin' him "you should take kate to a movie". i dont know how she got that idea. all i said to her was "i want to go see a movie, i need a date". [sigh] so anyways, a few minutes later he says "next weekend i will take you to see a movie". shit, now he's obligated. and sadly, i know a date would be a release, a break from the monotony of everyday bullshit. unfortunately im a bitch and my immediate reaction is "gee i dont know. i dont really think im your type... and by type i mean slutty".

no wonder i have a disastrous love-life...
* for the record, lets not refer to this as a date anymore, people get the wrong idea. and frankly, since its pretty safe to say that there will be no opening doors for me or paying for my raisinettes... thats not really a date. i just like to call things 'dates' to comfort the sobbing, lonely child inside me.

someone once told me 'no man is worth your tears, and the one who is won't make you cry'...

so please explain to me why so many of us are crying...

one hour.
thats all i ask.

somewhere along the way, things got all messy. im sure i put my foot in my mouth more times than i care to remember. im sure i was everything i always am. loud and overbearing. pushy and arrogant. scared. and amazed.

im not who you assume i am... im better.
im not who you treat me as... im wiser.
im not who you push aside... im here...

one hour.
thats all i ask.

call me crazy.

i think every woman should give their man a suck job everyday. not because they are obligated to, but because they damn well love to...

see what youre missing boys. shame on you all.

fo shizzle m' nizzle.

props to snoop d-o-double-g for this.

word.

two months.
two months until we unleash the beast...

plans are underway again for the annual FR mud party. those of you that feel the need to comment negatively about this event, dont. yes angie i do mean you.
up until this point, each party has been freakishly filled with crazy, drunk out-of-control computer geeks. one instance even included midgets with baseball bats. now thats a whole nother story altogether. however, in light of recent events, ive decided that the duty falls on my shoulders to turn this up a notch.

so this year, oh yes, im gonna go all britney spears on that ass.
just when everyone is getting settled, im breaking out the nakedness.
believe that.

so i said to myself, i said "self... listen closely":

* you cannot pay for groceries with your health insurance card. no matter how many times you tell them theyre wrong, you still cant
* if you ever wish to poop again, i suggest cutting that entire block of cheese out of your daily diet
* when the doctors tell you they are concerned about your heart, in theory, smoking more to ease the stress may not be the wisest decision
* no, the key lime pie should not taste like mayonnaise

and for the love of god...
* if your feet, by some miracle of nature, do infact smell like spagetti-os... do not keep smelling them

back off.

that pretty much sums up my entire mood for the week. frankly, i dont even have energy to deal with all my own bullshit, so take yours and run. away. fast.

maybe im overly suspicious. maybe i need to just fucking relax. but really, it sickens me to no end to watch people be fake. so incredibly fake that you just sit there and listen to them speak and wonder where the guy's arm is. its gotta be the most ridiculous puppet show anyones ever had to stomach. that cant possibly be them talking. just yesterday they were making sense and being normal so who the hell is this? and why the hell are they so irritating?

if youre going to be a different somebody today, than you were yesterday, theres a good chance i will hate one of you. so be prepared when i stare at you like you've lost your fucking mind, because well, you obviously have.

if you say you're going to be there for me,
...be there for me.
if you say you understand,
...make sure you do.
and if you say you're never going to hurt me,
...you're wrong.

walk away and leave me be.
im done being your excuse.
its your turn to be alone.
its your turn to cry.

im done being your tomorrow...

"mama"

clear as day.

and its about damn time too. i lack the ability to find the humor in a 10 month old mind. everytime before this was the game of "say mama"... ending with mama walking away from a smiling baby who just said "dada" about 90 times. not funny eban. not even a little bit.

and finally, there is was. VICTORIOUS! look out mensa... the boys are back in town!

i am beginning to think there is something seriously wrong with me. besides all the obvious. i have more on my plate right now than a bulemic cheerleader at a chinese buffet. it feels almost surreal that im not in the fetal position in some dark corner, shivering and cursing at my own shadow. the kids, the surgeries, the money (or lack thereof), the ex-husband, the boyfriend. the sheer volume of it all has my brain so fried that i could be a spokesman for DARE. but... theres always a but. somehow theres always room for the relentless, drilling thoughts of SEX. kinda like how theres always room for jello. egads... bill cosby and sex is NOT the mental picture i was hoping for. moving on. so as i was saying, i have this huge horseshit pile of mess that my life has been consumed with, and all i can think of is getting my rocks off. cute eh. and not just like oh-i-miss-the-soft-touch-of-a-gentleman bullshit either. i mean fur-flying, children-scaring, trapeze-swinging, offensively-dirty, good-old-fashioned fucking. usually i wouldnt complain, cause lets face it... who doesnt like to think about getting a piece. but literally i cant function. eating breakfast, excited. folding laundry, excited. history channel, excited. its terrible, my brain has been replaced by a raging hard-on. granted, i have a laundry list of narcotics in me and for all i know they perscribed me some viagra as well. whatever it is though, holy hell... virgins beware.

so this must be what it feels like to be a man, but without all the stoopid.

"Her hearing was keener than his, and she heard silences he was unaware of." ~D.M. Thomas

i feel like the ever-popular, pile of chit today.

it feels like My Pet Monster has taken residence in my guts. although not as friendly as i remember him from my youth. less furry, less blue. more violent and explosive if you will. feels like he felt inclined to be monstrous IN MY ASS.

go away you bowel-crippling monster, YOU GO AWAY!
(but leave the cuffs... cause nothing says 'come get me' like cheap plastic cuffs and a puke bucket)

i rock so hard.

i just broke into my apartment all he-man style.
im willing to bet not even the strongest man could have done what i just did.

wooha!
step on up boys, try and outdo me on this one. im up for the challenge. cause guess what, i'm the shit. oh yea. put THAT in your pipe and smoke it...

well hot damn!

all is right in the world when this makes it into a dictionary.

this one doesnt hurt any either. or this one for that matter.

ah yes. the sweet sweet sound of a lost generation. you gotta love it kids. you gotta.

i am enlightened.

today is good. all things considered that is.
moosie and i got up early and made breakfast and had a little 'mommy and me' time. we layed on the couch and giggle and laughed and did all the things we thought we forgot how to do. we made absolutely no sense and discussed things that have no relevance in an adult world. and he leaned down, looked right at me and said 'mr rogers said i have to get married. i think im gonna marry you'. maybe i yelled a few times when i shouldnt have. maybe i am just a little too harsh on him. maybe i wasnt always the kind of mother i thought i should have been. but damnit, i had to have done something right. sometimes hes a monster. sometimes he hits and kicks and swears like a sailor. and sometimes he curls up on your lap, looks up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes and says 'you know you are my whole world right mama?'

today i get the oh-so enjoyable task of packing his things. ive explained all of this to him. well, explained as simply as a 3 year old can try and handle. about how hes going to be staying with daddy while its warm out and then when it starts to get cold out again, he gets to come back home. about how its not forever. about how i will call him everyday just to tell him i love him. at this point i have no idea how im going to handle him being gone. i mean, i have a pretty good idea. ive never been away from him. not for more than a day or two at a time. but he needs this. i need this. i have come to terms with the fact that the only way i can make a better life for us, is to do this. i just need to remind myself that he will still love me. that i will still love him. and that this is not forever.

i dont think ive ever needed anything as much as i needed this today.

ive been wrestling over this for the past week. well months actually. how far does it have to go before you look at your child and say 'mommy cant do this anymore'. i mean really, really feel done. how many times do you have to say 'honey, why is there poop on your brother's face?' or 'please explain to me why theres 4 sticks of butter in the toilet'. how many times do you have to clean nail polish, paint, makeup, sugar, crayon, formula, applesauce, peanut butter and toothpaste off the television? and someone please tell me how many hours you have to spend teaching youre child to be polite, well mannered, kind and sweet only to have them look right at you and say 'i can say "shit" right?.'

tonite i think i found my answer. forever. i am all these boys have. if i throw my hands up, i have failed them, and i have failed me. i have just shit on everything i have worked my ass off for. and let me tell you, it isnt near enough. i can sit around and boo-hoo about how i cant pee in private or spend less than an hour getting the kids ready to run to the bank. i can whine about not having nice things or going on expensive vacations. and i could trade it all in. i could give up the fact that every nite as i fall asleep, there are 10 gigantically tiny toes pressed into my chest. and i could give up hearing 'its ok mommy, you dont have to cry anymore because i just love you so much.' and i could give up the most infectious laugh anyones ever heard.

i could give that all up. some people wait their whole lives to scrub crayon off the new computer and fish toys out of the garbage disposal. some people would give away their every freedom just to put little socks on little feet and little mittens on little hands every single day. and then theres some people that have it... and still walk away.

i am deeply saddened by those people.
but mostly, i am just disappointed in myself.

bring on the conflict.

somedays i wonder how i manage to to get through life everyday without being sucked into some black hole for morons. the little workers in my brain are on strike and common sense called in sick today. i feel like a the butterfly who just had one wing ripped off by the little brat with dirty braces and scabby knees. damnit, i want my other wing back. im tired of flying in circles. tired of being pulled both directions and still stuck in the middle. tired of trying to make sense of the wierdness i just watched myself type out on this screen... i am losing it.

somehow, i have been living for tomorrow. everyday has been about the next, not the one im actually living in now. and up until now, this was working great. cause the tomorrow seemed kickass, nevermind that the today may have been miserable. and frankly, all of the todays pretty much were. im starting to think that maybe i should stop being absolutely retarded and just enjoy today first. how can i include someone in today thats not here? realistically, "the boy" wont be here for the tomorrow either. so now its the million dollar question... so do i keep on being miserable for the todays so i can have the ultimate tomorrow in the distant future, or do i pass on that amazing tomorrow and love the shit out of my todays? ah yes, yummy conflict. tastes like chicken.

on that note, after reading that i have no idea what the hell i just said. my brain has obviously declared a state of 'neurotic goulash'. i think i need to lay down. or stand up. or lay down. or stand up... ARGH! THE CONFLICT! MUST. STOP. TYPING...

this weekend i found myself again... who i was, who i am, and who i always will be.

this =


and this

and unfortunately, this


but mostly, it leads to drunken wrestling in a muddy horse pen at 2am in the rain.

life doesnt get much better than this...

"Signs that burn like shooting stars, That pass across the nighttime skies,
They reach out in their mystic language, For us to read between the lines."
true that mr. diamond...

just last night i told "the boy" that i have finally reached the end of my miserably frayed rope.
i said that i would spend one more week searching endlessly for a new job. if i dont find one, then the boys and i pack up, and ship out. i meant it too. ive never really been good with making 'plan b', so i didnt really have a specific place in mind. just away.

ring ring (thats my ever-so-original phone impression)

"Hello, this is Dr. So-and-So. We received your resume and follow up phone call. The person we hired backed out at the last minute so we were hoping you could come in for an interview, say tomorrow afternoon?"

my first thought, naturally, was 'screw you, i wont play runner-up'. but hell, lets face it, at this point id take honorable mention. plus, there was less than a handful of jobs that i applied for that i actually thought i could choke down everyday. this one might actually be -gasp- rewarding. im just so tired of serving snot-nosed little brats meals for 10 hours a day just to come home to feed my own snot-nosed little brats. my brats are my brats, so they are held in much higher regard. i love the absolute shit out of them. i want to give them a better life than that. i need to give us a better life than that.

wish me luck tomorrow.
and pray that i dont be me... and burp. loudly.
at least not in the first 5 minutes.

so today i was that woman.
yes, that woman with the kid screaming in public. being a single mother, i have to open that third eye and prepare accordingly for such things before they actually go down. were they fed? yes. changed? yes. bribed? hell yes. so in we go for quick dinner fixins'. now usually, if this were to take place in a store, i would leave the cart, run to the car and go into hiding. but hes three now, way too smart for all that planning business. so he waits til we go through the checkout. so close. so close, just a little bit farther now. and then, here we go...

"NOOOOO, i want the apple NOW! NOOOOOOO!"
(let me add that this is all at a volume that could potentially alert the national guard of a disaster situation)
so like any mother, i try and quietly divert his attention and hush him. silly me.

"NOOOOO, SCREAM, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
this is where the kicking, punching, and relentless flailing happens. um no, mama wont have any of that. so i tell him that if hes gonna start all that, he better find someone else to go home with to try and swing at.

"NOOOOO, I SAID NOOOOOOOOOO!"
at this point he has lept from the cart, leaving me standing in line with a baby, an arm full of bags, and a half-horrified and half-denial expression. hes now standing about 20 feet from me, making sure he has a damn good audience. stupidly, i ask "you bout done?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

boy was he wrong. after i finished with him, he was SO done that i swear i saw a fork sticking out of his ass as he was running for cover...

so i get an email today. she is coming home this weekend.

its been nearly a year and a half now. so much has changed. i have changed. she has changed. she was my everything since grade school. i miss her terribly. everyday. she once told me 'friendships shouldnt take this much work.' she was right. we absolutely exhausted each other.

and for once, i have nothing to say.
actually, i have so much to say, but it still could never be enough.

as little girls we used to talk about growing up. how we would be that close forever. that nothing could ever be big enough to split us. i suppose this weekend will determine how much we really knew as kids. see if we can get past the ugly that has become our relationship.

god i hope so.

today i miss my ex-husband.

i dont miss him in a way that wants him back in my life, or to have him as my husband again, but i miss him in the way anyone misses someone theyve lost. this is the best ive seen it explained. the list of things i dont miss is unimaginable. im not sad anymore, and i gave up on being bitter a long time ago. but he walked away from our kids. and that i cant forget, and cant miss. i dont miss who he is and every horrible immoral thing he stands for. i dont miss the nightmares or the gut feelings a wife gets when her husband doesnt come home at night. i dont miss the desperate feeling of hanging on for dear life to the drama that was our life. somedays i dont know if the monster he is today was the cause or the result. im okay with not knowing. im okay with moving on. finally, im okay.

but still, sometimes, i miss the guy that i married who did silly things like this...

ill give you 3 guesses who ate mommy's hostess cupcake...



i really dont think you need all three guesses.
damnit, i was so gonna eat that too.

imagine my sadness when when i learned that CBS had cancelled 'becker'. that means that The WB has regained its spot as #1 for nausea.

now imagine my sheer horror as i realized that it lasted SIX seasons. i mean really, come on now. ted danson? it was TED DANSON for gods sakes.

im concerned for those poor soles who depended on becker for dare i say, humor.

however, just on principle, lets bring back "doogie howser m.d." or "just the ten of us". nono wait, bring back "my two dads" and "out of this world". hooray for crappy series!

*i may or may not have actually watched, religiously, any of the previously stated series during my childhood. and i may or may not have watched, religiously, all of those previously stated series during my childhood. ok, so i know every character and/or episode from all of those previously stated series. lets pretend i dont though*