Quack.

Me: So you can tell when i'm not taking my meds?
Boyf: Yup.
Me: Is it because I talk really really fast and continue to change topics and can't focus like this?
Boyf: Yes, baby.
Me: Huh. Let's go to Walgreens and get my meds because I haven't been taking them for a few days and i want to get those motherfuckers before I go crazy...Uh, crazier.
Boyf: *kiss* Kay.


I'm watching a show on the Vril Society. Bob the Vril-Master is being profiled. Vril-types apparently fueled all that Hitler noise in the 30's.

Holy shit, now there's a special on 'Scandals of the Ancient Worlds: Egypt'

People, as a race, are pretty damn hilarious.

Jarky!!!

I promise he is not a jag, despite what wearing a tie over a t-shirt usually means to me.

This is Jarky! Jarky is one of my favorite people, with whom i lose contact for months and months, then talk to and suddenly remember how much I adore. You know, like lox. You don't eat lox for months and months and then one day you remember 'hey, those weird fish thingies are SO delicious! and I could probably order a plate right NOW' and then you do and it's great.

(Of course, I only use that metaphor because Jarky is jewish, like so so jewish, seriously jewish. He shakes and trembles when i make him open an christmas present every year, because it burns him.)

Anyway, Jarky is awesome. So take THAT, Hitler.

Every Morning

Every morning, I endure THIS FACE as I leave my puppy and go to work. Breaking his heart in the process.

Did you know I'm obsessive?

Roomie and I have been talking more lately, and I'm enjoying it lots.

But I have to admit, I have no circle of girlfriends, no 'girlz, let's go to the bar and club and do karaoke! Huwwhhah! Squealandsuch!' sort of circle, and it drives me a little bit crazy.

So ladies who read this blog?

I'm starting a poker night. I am. We can drink girly things and I'll kick Boyf out onto the sidewalk and we can talk about how FUN it is to have our cycles line up. Ok?

I'm not good at this socializing thing. THROW ME A BONE! A LADYBONE!!!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD(DESS) PLEASE!

Hysterical

You can all stop asking what exactly my uterus looks like now, ok?

Too Mad To Speak

Without going into too much detail, my father and I spent most of my adolesence apart. I don't remember much about living with him, except small snippets...eating waffles while sitting on the heating vent to stay warm (thanks for actually bringing my plate to me, btw, dad), going to hospitals OFTEN, that time our porch was covered in earwigs, shudder, etc.

I don't remember the divorce, how I reacted, at all. So understand that I can only remember this the time I was angriest at my dad:

He went on a trip, probably a week or weekend, even, and I asked him to send me a card when he did. By the time he came back, the card hadn't shown up yet. So I asked him about it. He said it was probably still in the mail. I asked for a few weeks, and eventually he apologized, and explained it was probably lost in the mail. Actually, he never sent a card at all.

Now, I know I'm a neurotic person, and I know I linger over-much on people letting me down. I spent a lot of time as a kid, alone, or waiting for someone to come through for me, who never quite did. Probably why I hate having someone else in charge of something I care about more than do they. I would have felt so much better if he'd just admitted he never sent the card, ok? Sorry. Didn't follow through.

It's the 'oh, someday, honey', bullshit that made me frustrated, furious, and humiliated when i realized he was just placating me. Yes, when I was, like, 4, I still didn't like being placated. PLACATED is a fun word. ok.

BUT

Don't make promises you can't or don't intend to keep. Just don't.
I would rather expect NOTHING
than look like an idiot waiting around
for something that won't happen.

Don't want to do it anymore? Can't, you say?
Let me know, jerk, so i can stop waiting for you.

Street Fight

This one's for you, Kendra. and NO you are not the fat lady in the comic. But you would cheer her on.

ReRun

English Major's Poem

I can find a metaphor in a glass of milk.
first, the obvious
nourishment contained
milk in a container of heated, frozen sand
the sand a herald of the ocean
mother, maiden, lover, widow-maker
grains of time and salty tears
tears and milk
the constant sorrow and food
of women
the white sands of the Atlantic shore
soft and and small and itching
the first holiday after my sister died
and the family couldn't bear to be at home
and my sister
counting down hours
regressing into a calorie-free childhood
where milk was too rich a drink and glass
too transparent
The windows at night with an ambulance outside
drinking ensure and purging
red lights flashing
the TV on well after midnight
because she couldn't sleep
and my mother, we return to the milk
fighting with her child
her eldest daughter
lasping into seizure with her hands clenched
and cold like glass, and pale, chalky
a glass of milk

Sweeney was Subtle?

Whilst filling my prescription at Walgreens, Boyf and I perused the rows Halloween goods and costumes and tested all the noise-making figurines and displays for the season, because we are both very mature adults. Boyf pointed out which clowns on the makeup packaging were probably assholes in real life, and I bought two DVDs with old-timey spooky movies and cartoon reels.

So far we've watched about 75% of Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street Starring Tod Slaughter (I feel that borders on typecasting, which is WRONG), a cult actor known for performing as the villian in victorian melodramas; the british Bela Lugosi, y'might say. He wrings his hands, cackles, and chews scenery like no other, my friends.

It helps, of course, that in this version of the story, Sweeney isn't sympathetic. He's just a barber that kills people for money and fun. Mrs.Lovett helps him clean up and splits the profits. Sweeney lends money to the fleet owner, then uses this leverage to try and force the fleet owner's daughter, Joanna, to marry him.

He's kind of a dick.


*gasp* check out how much I rule! I found it online, to watch, right-now-ish! Enjoy!

Lots of free time

100 Posts!!!

OhMyHeck guys SERIOUSLY!!!!!!

feel free to buy me a drink or send all the gifts you want!!!

I have ansense of humor.

Scanner + Boredom = Comedy GOLD

Poorly hiding my amusement as a couple have a loud, shallow, pointless fight on the bus

I Laughed out Loud, But Still...

Boyf, sending me a text to let me know the oven was installed and working:

Stove is gassy and super hot, so you two will have lots to talk about.

*sigh*


What a jerk.

Let's Get This in the Open

Yeah...

I'm very uncomfortable with how beautiful my little sister has become.







No I will NOT introduce you to her. Scram, buddy.

2004

When I read my old blog--and believe me, it takes a lot of boredom to resort to THAT-- it's hard to imagine being quite as unhappy and without boundaries as I was.

That is to say...I wrote about things then that I'd never mention now, and I CLEARLY fixated much more. I credit this growth entirely to my family and friends' support.

It's not often that I find a quote I'd want to repeat word for word...and it's even rarer that I take the time to mention how happy I am.

Hear that, Ashley, mom, family, friends? I'm really fucking happy.



September 2004:

"I love you all, you freaks, you braniacs, you snobs, you show-tune namers, you former Elpers, you improvisors, you showoffs, you wonderful wonderful WONDERFUL people."

To. Do.

Let's see...

Buy litterbox, watering fountain, baggies for the pets
unpack all bags, boxes, and hollow objects used to transport stuff
put bike in downstairs storage
receive deliver of TV stand and dresser drawers
assemble stand, dresser, and living room lamp
unpack new appliances, dishes, sheets, blankets, towels and pictures
hang shower curtain with liner
paint dining room, living room (and hall), bedroom 1 and 2, kitchen walls and bathroom tiles
laundry: wash, dry, fold, put away
connect cable
connect stove to gas line
stock up on groceries
move pet food to Tupperware, place cat food in location out of reach of dog.
paint window trim on rooms
sew and hang curtains
buy desk, dining table and chairs
set up wireless Internet
send baby blanket
take care of dog and cat
take pills
hang pictures
write story treatment for publisher
rehearsal and filming of web-com pilot
save up money for pad's xmas gift, which will be pretty schweet
get deposit from old apartment, buy xmas gifts THEN instead of in December when I'm freezing and less rich
change address at post office, bank, netflix, etc.




So...no. No, casual acquaintance; Despite how many emails you mass-mail me, I do not want to watch you crappy improv show.

Baby 2: Clarification-ed!

Warning: This is a girl, girl post. Don't read ahead unless you're comforatable knowing just how much of a Girl I am.



The eggs pouring out of my ovaries are plugging up my veins and hindering bloodflow to my brain, so all i can think about are BABIES and I want to clear a few things up:

1) How the hell do people know their exact conception date? if I'm planning on getting pregnant, we better be having sex pretty damn often, y'all. It's called statistics. Look it up.

2) I get to hold my tummy and caress it lovingly the MOMENT that strip turns blue.

3) people need to come up with a less repugnant name for 'mucus'.

4)Ohmygod I do not want to ever hear your name suggestions, birthing suggestions, or lotion recomendations. You are not allowed to touch my belly just because it's huge. In fact, you best keep comments to yourself unless I go into labor on the bus and ask you for advice, bee-otch. This is MY baby and tummy. go ruin your own.

5) I think I already eat enough for two.

Oh, Baby

(Clearly i WILL look this cute when pregnant.)

Apart from a few cousins, and a few friends in different states, I've been yet able to avoid Pregnancy. Friver has had two kids already, yes, but this is the first time since our friendship began. I've been thinking on the topic much more than expected.

The entire process is just strange, people. I would make so much more sense to me if people laid eggs. In fact, i can't think of (and refuse to try) a single thing better for humanity than gaining the ability to lay eggs.

People could sign them. Like casts. With cute markers or pens. That's just ONE of the many benefits.





More thoughts later. By the way, moving? Never Again.