Reality Challenged

A Grim Fairy Tale

2012-02-23T15:04:00.003-08:00

I am in a funk, hence the lack of Wordy Wednesday in my blog this week. I am pretty sure this funk was brought on by the untimely demise of my best friend's relationship with her old high school flame.

See, she and I divorced our husbands at the same time. (We're best friends, we do everything together) She went on to reconnect with the love of her life and had lots of wild freaky sex all over town, while I tried to force myself to get back out there into the dating scene.

I would like to take a moment to talk about this forcing myself out there into the dating scene thing. I realized quite recently that this is what I was doing. I felt that I needed to have somebody, not somebody serious, not a one-night fling, just a suitable young man to call my boyfriend for a while. I felt this way, not because I was lonely or insecure, but because I wanted to even the score of some stupid game that didn't even exist outside of my own head. I was so hurt by how quickly I was replaced (I mean like instantly replaced) by some cheap bimbo my ex-husband remarkably found attractive, that I thought: Well, if he's moving on so quick and easy, then so will I!!! Stupid, I know. Why do we place such meaningless expectations upon ourselves??

Now just that very idea is ridiculous, but let's take a closer look at another one of my ill-conceived ideals about dating, shall we? Let's give some exploration to this statement: "I felt that I needed to have somebody, not somebody serious, not a one-night fling, just a suitable young man to call my boyfriend for a while." That right there is also completely screwed up. This too, I have quite recently realized.

There is no gray area out there!!! You are either just banging or you are in a meaningful relationship. Am I wrong?? I do not think so. This brings me back to my dear friend and her sad, sad situation with... oh let's just call him Jerkface. We will call her Miss Guided.

So Jerkface and Miss Guided embarked on that sacred journey of love - or so Miss Guided had hoped that's what was transpiring, but all Jerkface wanted was somebody to bang with no emotions involved. See? It's either serious or not, right?

Then one fateful night Miss Guided brought Jerkface and myself and some friends out to see a burlesque show. We knew one of the burlesque gals and she invited us to a little after-party when the show was finished. We all went and had a merry ole time - especially Jerkface who acted like a child at a candy store and went into booby overload and flirted with anything that shook her ass in his direction.

Days later, Jerkface dropped my best friend on her ass and announced that he wanted to start banging one of the burlesque dancers.

Now my best friend, who by the way has always been the stronger person in our friendship, is a broken china doll and I, who normally is the one falling to pieces, is taking on the role of the stronger one and helping her collect the shattered pieces of her broken heart.

Last night she came over and we shared a bottle of wine. At one point she turned and looked at me with the sorrow of a thousand sinking ships drowning in her eyes. It was enough to make a grown woman cry. I am still depressed just thinking about it.

I can't help but wonder why it is exactly that HER breakup is affecting ME so deeply. Maybe it's seeing the one person I've always seen as stronger than myself destroyed? Maybe I was secretly hoping along with her, that true love always finds a way and I'm shattered to find out that's just not always true. And maybe, just maybe I thought at least one of us was going to make it out of this gloomy place and into that shimmering sunset where Happily Ever After awaits.

Wordy Wednesday: Introdouche

2012-02-15T18:56:00.000-08:00

Urban Dictionary, this week you’ve outdone yourself! Almost all the terms I found on this sight this week earned my thumbs up rating!

Somebody’s Girl Syndrome - when a really hot chick has trouble getting dates because guys all assume she already has a boyfriend and are scared to approach her....
Inspired by the Jackson Browne song "Somebody's Baby"

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

I like this term because it actually happened to me a couple weeks ago. I tried talking to some guy at the bar and he totally gave me the cold shoulder. I was confused until my BFF went up to talk to him and she came back to report that he thought I had a boyfriend. What the heck? Just because I’m cute, guys automatically think I’m taken?

Insurance Piss - The act of going to the toilet when you don't really need to, to make sure you don't need to go later. This act is usually conducted prior to long car journeys or departure from drinking establishments.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

This also gets my thumbs up rating for practicality. I often do this before long road trips or before going to an establishment where I prefer not to use the ladies room.

Defecately- A more dignified way to say "Shit Yeah!" so you don't sound uneducated in the presence of others.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Down

Seriously?? Dignified? I think not! This is disgusting!!

Fashionmista - The male version of the fashionista. A man who loves fashion.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Those of you that are familiar with my Wordy Wednesdays know that I love me a good word or term that plays upon and already existing term. This term is sweet.

Introdouche - The way in which a douchebag would go about introducing his/herself. Bragging about their meaningless accomplishments in an attempt to impress you.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Another great play on an already existing word! Nuff said!

Now this is where I prepare to astound and amaze you with my wordy ability to weave these new terms into a little tale using my bloggy friends as the main characters.

Not So Simply Single was picking up her friend Sangria Smiles for their usual Friday night Girl’s Outting.

“Are you ready?” asked Single

“Defecately! Just let me take my insurance piss and we’ll leave!” answered Sangria through the bathroom door.

Sangria and Single entered the bar together, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. Before they could get settled a well-dressed man approached them from across the room. Sangria saw him headed in their direction and leaned over to whisper to her friend.

“Fashionmista at twelve o’clock.”

Single followed her gaze. The man ran his hand through his already slicked back hair and smiled at her.

“Hello, the name’s Hank,” the fashionmista said to Single. “Nice rack. I think I saw you at the strip club once. I was the one with all the chicks falling all over me.”

Single and Sangria exchanged a look of disgust.

“Well Hank, thanks for introducing yourself but we have better things to do somewhere over there,” said Single.

Sangria giggled and the two ladies walked away.

“How come nobody ever approaches me like that?” asked Sangria

“It’s called Somebody’s Girl Syndrome,” explained Single. “Guys must just think you’re already taken.”

“What? Really?” asked Sangria.

“Yeah well, that, and I out rack you,” said Single and adjusted her swelling breast to prove her point.

Valentine's Day Survival Video

2012-02-14T09:10:00.002-08:00

Valentine's Day this year was a little like this for me....

So I looked up some survival techniques and found this helpful little video

Then my mother sent me this in the mail...

Love Smart: Find the One You Want, Fix the One You've Got

Date #5: Where Legs are Supposed to Part

2012-02-12T07:03:00.002-08:00

Since I’ve re-entered the dating world I’ve discovered there are many mysteries to the dating life. What do you wear on the first date? How long do you wait to return a guy’s phone call? How can you tell if a guy is really interested in getting to know you or just wants to get in your pants? And the biggest mystery of all, how long do you wait before putting out?

I have to admit that I’ve been largely unsuccessful at finding someone worthy to date. There have been a handful of eligible bachelors that have shown interest in me over the last several months, but none of them, not one, have made it past date number five. I’ve concluded that if a man makes it successfully to the end of Date #5, it’s time to open the gates. However, in my case Date #5 has proved itself over and over again to be the end-all number.

Let’s do a little recall of the last bachelor that made it to Date #5. Surely you remember Mr. Shakespeare? He was the man who, on Date #5, I took to my company Christmas party. He got tanked, covered himself in champagne, and proceeded to make a fool out of himself. We all know that ended very badly for him.

I haven’t written about my last bachelor, partially because I haven’t had time and partially because part of me must have known he wouldn’t be around for long. However, I feel that a little recap of our brief dating encounter is necessary to prove my Date #5 theory.

My most recent bachelor was introduced to me by a co-worker. There was an immediate attraction on both sides. (His front side and my backside)

Our first date felt easy and natural, no awkward moments, just two people chilling with good music by the fireside. It was a great date, probably one of my best. At the end of the night, he drove me home and I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Date #2 felt a little more forced because we went out to dinner and had to rely on our own conversation skills for entertainment rather than live music. This is where I learned his dating skills were pretty primitive. However, he had the basics down. Pick up the check; hold the door; tell me I look pretty; that sort of thing. His conversation skills however were all one-sided.

After dinner, we went to a night club and again enjoyed more live entertainment. It became obvious to me very quickly that this was his comfort zone. I slid into his lap and we kissed a little. No big deal. He drove me home that night, and we made out in his car for a minute. This is where I learned I was a better kisser than him, but I was still interested in another date.

Okay, so it was a little better than this!

Date #3 found us once again enjoying live music by firelight. We danced a little and flirted a lot. When he drove me home, we had a pretty hot and heavy make out session in his car again. This is when I noticed that each time I was in his car there was a packed duffle bag in the back seat. Was he expecting to spend the night? I did not invite him in.

Date #4 brought us to karaoke at Chinese restaurant. Our dinner conversation was much improved upon the last time we ate out and we both seemed to be having a really good time. (~~Probably because I opted not to sing~~) We eventually gravitated toward the clubs in downtown and landed at one club in particular where we got pretty hot and heavy on the dance floor. I noticed him tugging the front of his shirt down as we exited the dance floor. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling knowing I could still give a man a raging hard-on in public.

Again he drove me home and we proceeded to make out intensely in the front seat of his car. Something hit me unexpectedly (probably the two large cups of Chinese coffee) and I broke free. We talked for a little bit and then somehow the conversation shifted to things you pull out of a drain in hotel bathrooms. (Did I mention his conversation skills were primitive?) Now that the mood was thoroughly killed, I quickly bade him good-night.

I’m quite sure that poor man’s balls were as blue as a whale for days to come.

Days passed, and I did not hear from him. I confessed my confusion over the situation to my friend. She looked at me sympathetically and patted me on the knee.

“It’s probably because you didn’t put-out sweetie,” she said. “You can’t get a guy all worked up on the dance floor and then send him home empty handed.”

Translation: You’re a cock teasing whore and men don’t like you.

The sound of my heart breaking could almost be heard over the loud rush of wind whistling out of my deflating ego.

I realized that Date #5 is the point where things either get serious or they fizzle out. In my case, there is something besides being a cock-teasing whore that is standing in my way of getting past Date #5.

After some soul searching and taking a good long look in the mirror, I was able to determine the route of the problem. It’s not that I’m a cock-teasing whore. I’m just not ready to open up to anyone just yet, because I’m still hurting over my divorce.

I still love Minute Man. I’ve been too angry at myself for feeling that way to really accept it as a truth. However, I’ve recently permitted myself full access to those feelings, and with that access, came a level of truth and knowledge that was a real eye-opener. I realized that I’ve been so emotionally guarded that I haven’t allowed myself to feel anything – not even my own broken heart.

I’m going to stop being angry at myself for loving him. I’ve been under the notion that loving somebody that hurt me makes me unfaithful to myself. That’s not the truth. The truth is sometimes people we love hurt us, but that doesn’t mean we stop loving them. Sometimes being faithful to ourselves means we just have to stop handing them the knife that keeps cutting us down.

Wordy Wednesday: Peehicular Manslaughter

2012-02-08T16:12:00.002-08:00

Because so many of you have expressed that you would greatly miss my Wordy Wednesday feature using words and terms sited on Urban Dictionary, I ~~screwed off at work~~ made some painstaking sacrifices to find the time to throw together this week’s edition of Wordy Wednesday.

Super Bowel - A raucous bowel movement experienced the day after the Super Bowl due to consumption of large amounts of chili, hot wings, and beer.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Down

I have a couple issues with this term. First of all, it’s off-putting. It makes me wrinkle my nose in distaste. Secondly, it’s incomplete. A bowel is a part of the human body. Technically, it does not refer to turd. If it was Super Bowel Movement, then ok, but then it becomes more difficult to interpret the meaning. This term fails.

Peehicular Manslaughter - While using urinal and the piss splashes back at you or the guy standing next to you.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Up

I don’t care what Urban Dictionary says, I love this term. It generated an instant giggle from me. (Much better than the distasteful nose wrinkle) To be 100 percent correct though, it could only refer to splashing the person next to you with your pee, because you cannot commit manslaughter on yourself. Correct? But yes, I like this term for pee back splash. Guys, does this really happen?

Is a Frog’s Ass Water Tight? This is a phrase that hails from the heart of Georgia. It is used to describe something that is so obvious.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Aw! This term is SO cute!! Just the very image of a frog’s bunghole makes the corner of my lips turn upward. Plus, if it represent a part of this beautiful country and its culture then I’m all for it! Do I love it? Is a frog’s ass water tight? Yes!

iFinger - It's the finger(s) you purposely keep clean when you eat something messy so you could operate your touchscreensmartphone/tablet/GPS without making the screen look like your plate.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Let’s face it; we live in a multi-tasking society folks. Although I personally have not engaged in this action, I’m sure this sort of thing happens all the time. Therefore, I give this word my thumps up rating.

PartyPressure - When you are invited to a party or event and don't really feel like going, but you feel some sort of obligation to attend. Like peer pressure, but related specifically to going to a party.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Yep, been there, done that! At one time, this was the only working method known to actually get me out into the social scene. This term doesn’t win points for creativity, but it wins my thumbs up rating for practicality.

Now, prepare to be astounded and amazed as I twist these terms into a silly little fable using my followers as main characters.

Suz was sitting at her dining room table munching on Cheetos while surfing Blogger on her smartphone when she heard a knock at her door.

"Come in!" she shouted through a mouthful of Cheetos.

My Own Private Idaho whom she was expecting strutted into the dining room.

"Are you going to the party at Inferno tonight?" Idaho asked.

"I don't think so," said Suz.

"Come on, it will be fun!" said Idaho

"It's a Monday night," argued Suz

"And?"

"Look, I just really don't feel like going out," insisted Suz

"You said that last time," said Idaho

"I don't have anything to wear," said Suz

"You look great in what you're wearing now. Besides, everybody's going to think you're a loser if you don't go,"" persisted Idaho

"Fine!" spat Suz. "Enough with the party pressure already! I'll go!"

"Great!" a triumphant Idaho glowed. "I knew I could convince you!"

Suz extended her middle finger in response to Idaho.

"Careful," warned Idaho. "I wouldn't want to see anything happen to your iFinger."

"Very funny," sneered Suz. "Did you bring whiskey?"

"Is a frog's ass water tight?" Idaho replied and produce a fifth of Jack Daniel's from his jacket pocket.

After hitting the bottle of Jack a couple times Suz was in much better spirits and ready to party.

Almost immediately upon entering the club, Suz reached for her stomach.

"What's wrong?" asked Idaho

"I ate too much at the Super Bowl party last night and now I'm suffering from Super Bowel," said Suz.

(authors note: See! THAT is how you would use that term! Snap!)

"Oh TMI!" said Idaho, "I gotta hit the head myself though. Meet back here?"

"Yep!" Suz called over her shoulder as she hurried to the ladies room.

Suz finished her business quickly and stood waiting outside the men's room for Idaho. She was startled by the sounds of a little girl screaming coming from the men's room. She was about to grab a staff member for help when Lost in Idaho exited the restroom with a face as white as the fur of a lab rat.

"What happened in there??" Suz asked.

"I...I.. I..." a shaken Idaho attempted.

"Calm down, take a deep breath," assured Suz. "It's okay. What happened??"

Idaho took a deep breath and took a moment to steady himself.

"I was just made victim of Peehicular Manslaughter!!!" he cried.

"What??" asked Suz.

"Some dude's pee back-splashed on me!!!" a distressed Idaho exclaimed indignantly.

Suz began to giggle.

"It's NOT FUNNY!" cried Idaho!

"Serves you right for laying party pressure on me earlier!"Suz declared.

How I Feel About HTML Code

2012-02-06T19:08:00.002-08:00

It's funny having two classes that are polar opposites of each other. I love my art class. I actually look forward to showing up there after work and covering myself with chalk and charcoal. I'm learning a lot about shading and values. We've been working on drawing draped cloth. It may sound pretty boring but seeing all the different outcomes of the same material is amazing.

But my Web Page Design class is not quite as enjoyable. We're currently learning HTML code.

At first my understanding of HTML was pretty primitive

Then I started putting meaning to the codes...

But just when I thought I was making some headway, trouble struck.....

And I started to feel a lot like this...

Somehow, I was able to put things back into perspective...

I just hope after all this work, I don't end up like this guy

Wordy Wednesday: Fartriloquism

2012-02-01T16:18:00.000-08:00

Now that the semester has started back up again I can predict that my Wordy Wednesdays will once again become unpredictable. So get it while it’s hot folks!! Here are my ratings for the most recent terms sited on Urban Dictionary!

Fartriloquism - Art of “throwing” one's farts in such a way that the sound and/or smell seems to come from a source other than the farter.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Up

I was right on the cuff with this one. However, after some deep soul searching I decided to give fartriloquism my thumbs up rating. I think the final deciding factor in this judgment was recalling how my ex used to blame his passed gas on a flock of ducks – and I believed him at least once. Now that’s talent folks!!

Eye Broccoli - opposite of eye candy, someone unappealing to look at

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

I couldn’t give this one my thumbs up rating because I think it encourages mean spirited thinking. Why can’t we all just get along???

Petri Douche - Petri Douche: A place/location where a lot of douchebags are known to congregate.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up

My Rating: Thumbs Up

And this is where I appear to become a complete hypocrite. Why give this term my thumbs up after rejecting the Eye Broccoli? I’ll tell you why! This term right here puts a general population at the mercy of mean spirited thinking, rather than singling out an individual. Singling out individuals in a negative manner based solely upon their looks is wrong folks! Singling out a small group of people based upon their predictably bad behavior, well that’s just fine.

501k - When one’s economic situation has become so tenuous that their entire net worth is in the pockets of their jeans.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

This term fails on so many different levels, it is astounding. First of all, individuals of the female gender can tell you that the last scraps of their financial well-being will never be found in the pocket of their jeans. (We have other places for that sorta thing) Secondly, Levi 501?? Please, there are SO many other varieties of jeans out there. To single it down to just one pair is pretty much sacrilegious in my book.

Congressional Review - To loosely read or breeze through a document, likely missing a fair amount of the information contained within.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up

My Rating: Thumbs Up

Being a student, there is no way I couldn’t find appreciation for this term. In fact, just the other day my art professor told the class to “skim through” the first six chapters of the book. I can hardly wait to report back to her that I completed the Congressional Review of those first six chapters!!

Now I will astound and amaze you with my ability to weave these words into a friendly little fable starring some of my most loyal followers.

Daydream Believer and Mrs. One Day were hanging out at their local Petri Douche because their club of choice was closed for renovations.

“I can’t believe we even bothered coming here,” moaned Daydream Believer. “I’ve never seen so many douchebags congregated in one location.”

Mrs. One Day paused, looking up from her Congressional Review of last month’s edition of Cosmopolitan and scanned the crowd.

“Mmm, look at that douchebag over there with his gangsta pants hanging below his knees,” Mrs. One Day agreed.

“Now that’s a fine piece of Eye Broccoli for ya,” chimed Daydream Believer.

Just then the aforementioned gangsta pants douchebag walked by the table where Daydream Believer and Mrs. One Day were sitting.

The sound of a reverberating fart echoed from behind Daydream Believers seat. Mrs. One Day’s eyes widened with shock.

“Daydream Believer!! That was offensive!!” stated Mrs. One Day

“What???” Daydream Believer exclaimed. “That wasn’t me!!”

Mrs. One Day raised her eyebrow and shot a pointed look of suspicion toward Daydream Believer.

“It wasn’t!!” Daydream Believer insisted. “It was gangsta pants over there! He must be a master at fartriloquism. He threw his fart to make it sound like it was me!!”

Gangsta Pants, hearing mention of his persona looked in their direction.

“Damn baby you could take that to the girlie’s room next time!” Gangsta Pants stated with a slight wave of his hand in front of his nose.

Daydream Believer’s jaw dropped in indignant protest.

“That’s it!” said Mrs. One Day. “No more popcorn for you!”

Gangsta Pants nodded solemnly in agreement and went about his way.

“I’ll swear on everything in my 501k it wasn’t me!!” cried Daydream Believer.

She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a button and a blue lint ball.

Mrs. One Day put her hand impatiently on her hip.

“That’s convincing,” said Mrs. One Day.

“But, but…” Daydream Believer continued in her own defense.

“Yeah, your butt stinks! Now off to the ladies’ room with you!” said Mrs. One Day.

“fartriloquism…” Daydream Believer trailed off pointing her finger across the room at Gangsta Pants.

“I don’t want to hear anymore of that mumbo jumbo, now Go!” said Mrs. One Day firmly.

Daydream Believer obediently got off her stool and headed toward the ladies’ room. This was the last time she was ever coming into a Petri Douche like this one.

Bad Poetry: My Vision

2012-01-26T15:35:00.004-08:00

School started again. This semester I'm taking Intro to Drawing and Web Design. I love my decision to go back to school. It's something I can feel good about at the end of the day. (Ok, it's pretty much the Only thing I can feel good about at the end of the day)

My first assignment for my web design class was to write a mundane little About Me paper and publish it to the internet. Me, being me, decided to spice up the assignment a little and I wrote a really bad piece of poetry instead explaining where I was from and where I am going. (Writing bad poetry is one thing I pride myself on doing really well.)

I’m from chasing my tail in circles, but never catching the tip,
I’m from searching for something that will satisfy that creative itch,
I’m from loving to write newspaper articles but without enough pay,
I’m from work that pays but without enough joy at the end of the day,
I’m from wondering if I can do what I love and make enough to survive,
I’m from settling for clocking in at nine and clocking out at five,
I’m from wondering if in this lifetime there could be more,
I’m from daring to believe and being willing to explore,
I’m going to create things that impress and astound,
I’m going to awake with a smile when my feet hit the ground,
I’m going to be enthusiastic about each and every day,
I’m going to enjoy my work as much as my pay,
I’m going to touch people’s lives and make them smile,
I’m going to enjoy this journey to the very last mile,
I’m going to discover passion that glows like an ember,
I’m going to be a somebody you’ll always remember,

See what a cute little dork I am?? I hope my professor likes it!

Wordy Wednesday: Ninja Sex

2012-01-18T08:51:00.002-08:00

It's Wordy Wednesday time and I'm pleased to announce that the new year has apparently blown in some fresh air on the otherwise static word selection on Urban Dictionary. This week we have some very clever selections that I'm excited to present. Which will be your new favorite?

Mompetition - The one-up rivalry that moms play making their child seem better, smarter, and/ or more advanced than yours. May involve two or more moms and any number of children, even full-grown.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

I always like clever plays on already existing words or terms. Everyone knows mompetition exists on every bleacher of every high school stadium, so why not finally peg it with it's own word?? Choosey moms choose mompetetion!

Brain chow - What zombies eat

Urban Diction Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Up

Are Urban Dictionary users completely unaware of the zombie fever that is sweeping the nation? It must be so... or the majority have already been infected with the zombie virus and its begun to affect their BRAINS!! I love this term. I absolutely give it my stamp of approval.

Ninja sex - having noiseless sex (no squeaking springs or vocals) while one or more people are within earshot.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up
My Rating: Thumbs Up

This is AWESOME!! Come on, you all know you've been there, cuffed to the headboard with numerous sex toys buzzing all around you and no gag ball to be found!! What other option is there if you have sensitve ears around (or in my case in the neighborhood)? Yep. Ninja sex. It happens, folks. It happens a lot.

Passenger Assessment - The tendency, especially while waiting for a plane, to scan one's fellow passengers for signs of violent intention. This tends to increase after an airline incident or near incident.

Urband Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Down

I was torn on this one. On one hand we all want to put 9-11 behind us and not fall victim to being suspicious of any person outside of our ethnic comfort zone. On the other hand, if we're honest, we still do it. It's like when you find a fingernail embedded in your hamburger. You know of course that this doesn't happen very often but from that day forward your eyes meet every hamburger with a certain degree of suspicion before taking that first bite. Am I not right? However, because I don't wish to encourage suspicious and judgmental behavior, I'm going to vote this one down.

Spark in my ass - A sudden burst of positive energy; determined; a feeling of invincibility

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down
My Rating: Thumbs Down

This one seems a little too graphic for my liking. Any term that makes you wince when visualized should not make it into common dialog (unless your name is Kelly)

Now its time for everyone's favorite part of Wordy Wednesday! This is where I take all the words and terms listed above and weave them into a wonderful tale using my frequent commenters as witty and charming main characters.

Julianna settled down in her seat on the plane. She noticed, with some degree of relief, that she was seated next to another woman of her same age and ethnicity.

As the plane filled up Julianna began taking Passenger Assessments in her head. So far, she was very concerned about the middle-aged Caucasian with a nervous twitch. "It's probably just a medical condition," she told herself. "It's not like he's nervous about blowing us all up into a thousand little pieces or something... and it's not like he's been infected with some sort of zombie virus and he's thinking about cracking open our skulls for a nice fresh helping of Brain Chow right this very minute... and it's not like..."

"Are you okay?" the woman next to her asked.

Julianna looked down and noticed the tissue she had been clutching now lay shredded in her lap. She had been completely unaware that she had mangled it with her hands with watching the ~~nervous twitch~~ medical condition guy.

Julianna blushed and thought, "Great, now she's probably giving me the Passenger Assessment."

She quickly scooped the shredded tissue pieces up and shoved them into her purse.

"I don't fly very often," Julianna said to the woman next to her. "I guess I'm just a little nervous."

The woman nodded and smiled politely.

"My son's soccer team made it to the national play offs. I'm traveling to see them play," said Julianna.

The woman's eyes widened and brightened.

"Mine too!" she exclaimed. "My name is Gia..."

The two women quickly hit it off and began talking high school sports with lively enthusiasm. They also traded notes on their children and started making little comparisons, which eventually led to a friendly little mompetetion between the two parents.

"I knew my Bobby was going to be an exceptionally bright child when at the age of two he read me passages from the Bible," said Julianna.

"That nothing," said Gia. "My Billy, created a small village out of the pages of the Bible when he was two."

Just then, a handsome young man (let's just call him Bersercules) took the seat next to Gia.

"Hey baby," Gia greeted him with a smile.

"Hey sexy," Bersercules replied and leaned over to give her a kiss.

Gia slipped him some tongue and ran her fingers up the back of his neck.

Julianna looked away from the awkward scene unfolding in front of her. She tried to ignore the couple who were now fully engaged in groping each other feverishly.

"Wanna go have Ninja Sex in the bathroom?" Julianna heard Gia whisper.

"What's gotten into you?" Bersercules asked.

"I dunno. Something must have put a spark in my ass," said Gia with a quick sly glance at Julianna. "Wanna check it out for me?"

A moment later Bersercules got up and headed for the bathroom.

Gia smiled sweetly at Julianna.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I just can't keep my hands off that man! But really, you've seen him, can you blame me??"

"He's very handsome," Julianna said politely.

"Where's your husband?" Gia asked.

"He had to work," Julianna replied.

"Aw, too bad!" Gia said as she got up. "You'll have to excuse me."

"See ya later masturbater!' said Julianna.

Marriage: Ways to Make it Suck Less

2012-01-15T17:00:00.001-08:00

I went to a party Friday night. I found myself mingling, and being charming and having great conversations with numerous people. I was quite the social butterfly actually.

As I spoke with different couples, I found myself making the same comment: "Wow, you two have been married a long time. What the secret to staying together that long?"

Did I know what I was doing at the time or was this question posed on a more subconscious level? Of course I knew. I was collecting material for my blog! Duh!

These are some of the answers I got on how to engage in a successful marriage:

Couple #1

She said: "It definitely helps that I think he's cute - even after all this time. What's really important though is thoughtfulness. Be considerate of the other person."

Hmmm... Did I have thoughtfulness in my marriage? Yes, Minute Man could be very thoughtful sometimes. Check.

He said: "I think you have to be friends first and always honor that friendship."

Friendship? Uh oh. That's a negative here.

Couple #2

He said: "Communication is very important."

Yep! Holla! I hear that one! That is probably one of the most important lessons I am walking away with in my divorce. I wasn't very good at communication in the beginning of my relationship with Minute Man, and sometimes I'm still not, but I'm a WHOLE LOT better now. MM was good at communicating and getting me to open up and communicate back. Ok. Check.

She said: "Respect and caring more about the team than you do yourself, but definitely respect above everything else. If there is something I know that I do that bothers him, I won't do that. He in return makes sure he doesn't do anything that really bothers me."

That one was like a knife through the heart. I definitely put "the team" first always, always, always - maybe even too much. Yes, I was taking great care of them, but nobody was taking care of me - not even myself. I ended up hurting everyone by letting that happen, because when you don't take care of yourself, you eventually stop being able to care for others.

Respect. I'm going to have to say we had little to none of this in our marriage. Somewhere along the way, I lost respect for my husband. And I'm not even sure if he ever had respect for me. By allowing him to treat me in a disrespectful manner, I disrespected myself.

I think that is why now, as I enter the dating world, I have zero tolerance for disrespectful behavior.

Wordy Wednesday: Yestergay

2012-01-11T11:06:00.004-08:00

Welcome to another edition of Wordy Wednesday! This week’s selection of Urban Dictionary words is a slight improvement over last week’s. (I guess we can cut them some slack seeing it was the holiday season.) I’m very pleased to announce there was at least one term that I made my eyes twinkle with delight. What terms will tickle your pickle?

Yestergay - a gay male now in a heterosexual relationship or marriage. Not the same as ex-gay, which is someone who seeks a religious conversion to abandon homosexuality.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Up

This term doesn’t have me doing cartwheels, but I think it works. I’ve seen at least one case of Yestergay in my sheltered lifetime, so there must be a need for such a term, dontcha think?

Blackberry Roulette - Driving a motor vehicle while talking or texting on a cell phone.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

I think this person was on the right track, but they missed the mark when they limited it to just a Blackberry. Cell Phone Roulette would have worked much better.

See You Later Masturbator - A variation of see you later alligator

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Up

My Rating: Thumbs WAY Up

And this little gem right here is why I do this gig folks. Most of these terms are flat, disappointing or offensive, but every once in a while you come across a real beaut like this little sweetheart right here. I ADORE this term. Whomever thought of it RULES Urban Dictionary!!

Facility Fishing - Facility Fishing is the act of searching for a restroom. Facility Fishing may be done simply to find a rest room in an unknown location. However, Facility Fishing is also performed when one seeks to find a rest room that is located off the beaten path where there will be more privacy and likely little to no interruption from others coming in while defecating. This is most often performed in large buildings and locations where there are lots of people.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

Again, I think the person that thought this one up was on the right track but missed the mark. Facility Fishing? Why fishing? It’s not like you snag one and reel it in, right? It’s not like it’s wet and slimy and flopping around on the floor of your boat, right?

Free Coochin - 1. The act of a female not wearing underwear 2. The female equivalent of free balling

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

I absolutely detest the word cooch. It makes me want to punch somebody of the male gender in the throat. (Sorry, fellas) In fact, I find it even more offensive than the other ‘c’ word for that part of a women anatomy. What generates such strong dislike for this particular word? Well folks, there’s a story and I will tell it.

Many moons ago, I was fooling around with this guy. I was thinking about maybe even sleeping with him. We went back to his hotel room and had a tickle fight on the bed. We stopped to catch our breath and the next thing I know he’s got his hand between my legs (you know the spot) and he is tickling my little flower saying “coochy, coochy coo!”

The breaks on this ride have never been pulled any faster. Never before, has a man been THAT close to scoring with me and totally fumbled the ball so badly he ruined all future chances. (Are you taking notes fellas? Do not EVER attempt such a heinous move with a lady.)

I slapped him across the face, rolled out of bed and slammed the door behind me. No matter how hard he tried to recover from that evening, I never let him anywhere near that area ever again. – The End

Now for the story you’ve ALL been waiting for. The weaving of the words!! This is where I take all the Urban Dictionary words listed above and weave them into a fateful tale uniting some of my most frequent commenters.

Barfly and Bouncin Barb were on their annual road trip to the Hooters Casino and Hotel in Las Vegas. Barb was gripping the door handle of the passenger’s side door, while stealing nervous glances at Barfly as he played Blackberry Roulette.

“I really wish you would put that thing away and pay attention to the road,’ said Barb.

“Relax babe,” said Barfly. “I’m just checking the weather.”

Barb rolled her eyes and tightened her grip on the door handle as the red tail lights in front of her grew brighter and faster. Barfly was not slowing down.

“Brakes!!” Barb screamed.

Barfly looked up from his Blackberry in time to slam on the brakes to their Honda.

Barb braced herself and recited a silent prayer.

The car stopped less than an inch from the bumper in front of them. Barfly laughed nervously.

Barb slapped him hard on his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole!” Barb shouted.

Barfly laughed harder.

“I nearly shit myself!” Barb explained.

“Sorry, babe,” Barfly said through a fit of laughter.

“No, I’m serious,” said Barb. “I really almost shit myself. We need to go Facility Fishing like now.”

Barfly recognized the tone in Barb’s voice and stopped laughing.

“Okay, okay,” said Barfly. “We’ll get off at the next exit.”

Within minutes they were at a gas station and Barb was running for the facilities.

Inside the bathroom, Barb thanked God that she was free coochin because it was one less layer that stood between her and her business.

When she exited the facilities she noticed Barfly talking to a flaming young homosexual man behind the counter.

She stood with arms folded across her chest as she watched the two laughed in a flirtatious manner.

Barfly must have felt Barb’s eyes burning a hole through him because he stopped mid-giggle and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Oh yeah, babe” Barfly said and walked over to wrap his arm around Barb.

“Don’t babe me,” Barb muttered and headed for the car.

Barfly followed.

“What was THAT?” Barb demanded back in the car.

“Um… a gas station?” answered Barfly.

“I know it was a gas station,” Barb answered. “Why were you flirting with that guy?”

“WHAT??” Barfly exclaimed. “Flirting? Please! I’m so yestergay! You know I would never do that! I was just sharing a funny story with him.”

"You used to be GAY?" Barb asked. “And what story exactly?” Barb asked.

Barfly paused with the look of a child caught with his hand in the cookie car.

“Well?” Barb asked impatiently.

“About the time I got it stuck in the anus of an inflatable doll,” Barfly answered.

For once, Barb was shocked into silence.

She took a moment to process the information and then she grabbed her purse and got out of the car.

“Hey, where are you going?” Barfly called out after her.

“Home.” Barb answered.

“What?” Barfly asked in disbelief.

“You heard me. I’m going home!” said Barb. “See you later masturbator!”

A Retractable Penis that Swivels!!

2012-01-10T10:21:00.005-08:00

Some of you may be asking: What became of The Stone Whisperer ? You know the guy that attempted to woo me with a rock? Oddly enough, I learned that this is also how dolphins try to win their mates.

Dolphins will bring their desired mate various objects including weeds, rocks and sticks to convince them that they are the right mate. The male that displays the most rocks, often wins the female.

Other fascinating dolphin sex trivia includes the use of their retractable – and get this – prehensile penis. Yep, it swivels! In fact, a male dolphin can use his penis to explore objects just like a hand. That’s kinda funny seeing most males I know, use their hands to explore their penis. Just saying.

I was inspired enough by this that I wondered what other dolphin characteristics The Stone Whisper might hold. So I dug a little deeper and found that male dolphins also have a very strong sex drive. They can mate many, many times in a day. (Ok, you’ve got my attention.) Now here’s the bad news: male dolphins are a bunch of One Pump Chumps. The average time to ejaculation is 12 seconds.

I stopped researching at this point. Maybe, he just wooed like a dolphin. Yeah, that’s it.

The Stone Whisper, with his dolphin-like qualities, started out with such great potential. He knocked my socks off with a fancy dinner. Then he proceeded to take my breath away with his astounding artistic ability, his exceptional taste in music and antiques, and his extensive knowledge of history. He gave me a rock – not the kind you can wear on your finger, not even the kind you can put in your pocket. Nope, this was a big ass rock.

well, not exactly that big ass!

Then he didn’t call me for two weeks.

I thought this a bit odd, but when he called again, I said what the heck and went out with him again and again once more.

Or last date ended up at his apartment where he played various mixed CDs for me while we sipped wine and giggled like teenagers.

I fell asleep curled up in an antique quilt on his antique couch. Everything smelled old and familiar. I felt very comfortable with him.

We made plans to go out again a few days later.

I telephoned that evening to give him a heads up that I would be over to pick him up for our date.

He texted me back saying he was at the bar with his buddy and he had quite the buzz on.

My response: “Wow. You really suck at making plans.”

His response: “Sorry, I’m from Mars.”

Really?

I ignored any communication from him for the next several days.

He sent me a Facebook email: “Are you mad at me?”

Duh!!

My response: “I’m not mad. I just have no interest in spending time with men that ditch me to go get wasted at the bar with their buddies. You have what I like to refer to as a Gypsy Soul. It’s not a bad thing. It’s quite beautiful really – but Gypsy Souls are destined to be free. So long!”

Some of you might think it was a bit harsh that I told The Stone Whisper to take his dolphin-like qualities and go pound sand, but I’m not screwing around here! If you’re not going to treat me nice, I’m not wasting my time.

A Little Extra Lovin...

2012-01-09T13:07:00.005-08:00

Lately, I've been feeling a lot like this....

I feel like there is a higher power at work and if I just embrace it and go with it, everything will work out just fine. Of course, this is easier said than done in my case.

I've been a little salmon swimming upstream for most of my life. That's going to stop. A lot of things are going to stop. Negative behavior, like drinking a bottle of wine alone in my living room because all I want to do is forget about how miserable I've been, is going to stop.

(Actually, I've done a lot less of that since Minute Man has been gone.)

I've just now started to realize that I have an extremely unkind view of myself. I used to blame Minute Man for my poor self esteem. I'm not going to do that anymore. He didn't make me feel like I wasn't good enough. I LET him make me feel that way. I had control over that and I still have the power to change it.

So I had to ask myself this:

I used to be a beam of light that could illuminate even the darkest location. Now I'm sorta like a flickering light bulb. That can change though. How you ask? I've decided the first step is to be really good to myself. I'm going to start doing a much better job at loving myself.

No, not THAT kind of loving myself!!

For the past two weeks, I've been going to the gym, coming home, getting dinner, taking a nice long bath with my monster Stephen King novel and then putting myself to bed early. I've been going off to la-la land with pillows propped up all around me like a fortress feeling quite safe and secure. This is NOT how I've been used to feeling before going to sleep for the last year and a half.

Last night as I lay buried within the walls of my pillow fortress, I attempted to do a healing meditation on myself. I used to do this with ease, and something like this would happen inside of me:

Again, I felt like that flickering light bulb. It was like trying to lift 100 pounds with Petunia muscles, because right now my heart sorta feels like this:

However, like any muscle, it can be strengthened with exercise. So I just started taking little baby steps.

Today, the results are this:

And just in case I forget, here's a little reminder I've posted on my desktop. Feel free to grab it for yourselves. After all, we ALL deserve a little extra lovin.

Approaching, Level 6 Stalker

2012-01-06T13:09:00.000-08:00

I figured it was time for an update on my “dating” adventures. I actually had a huge revelation last week. Although I would like to start officially dating again, I’ve realized that I'm emotionally unavailable.

This epiphany came with the untimely demise of Shakespeare and the sound of the shrieking brakes I threw on The Stone Whisperer. In fact, the only eligible bachelor that has not had the door slammed hotly in his face continues to be Deadliest Catch Dude. (Mostly, because he's awesome - and he respects me.)

Shakespeare has not been taking lightly the news that I don’t want to continue seeing him anymore. We went out on five dates. That’s it. Five. On the fifth date, you may recall, he failed to take the opportunity to leave the party with me and proceeded to get completely hammered at my company event without me.

I told him point blank the next day I didn’t want to go out with him anymore, because “he drank too much” at the party. Now, had I gone into more detail and completely exposed my emotions to both him and myself, I would have told him that I felt rejected when he didn’t leave the party with me. I would have gone on to say, this only reopened the raw feelings I still had of being rejected by my own husband because he never really wanted to spend time with me either. However, I opted for the vague, simple and cut throat approach of sorry sunshine it’s over – except that approach didn’t produce the results I expected.

Shakespeare spent two weeks calling my cell phone anywhere between one and three times a day. He left a particularly disturbing message on New Year’s Eve that made me realize that he didn't understand the meaning of his unreturned calls. I had to call him and break it down for him – or possibly face the rest of my life with him blowing up my phone on a daily basis.

So I called and I switched up my approach. I went with the “it’s not you, it’s me” tactic. I found myself explaining “I just wasn’t capable of being in a relationship just yet.” As it turns out, this was the sad truth. I just didn’t realize it yet.

(More on this later)

That last conversation with Shakespeare took place on Monday. Today is Friday. He called at 7:42 this morning and left another message on my cell phone. (WTF?) The message said that he remembered the “content” of our last conversation but he “awoke with the urge to call and ask if I might want to take a walk this weekend” because the weather was supposed to be mild.

There is no way I’m going anywhere with this guy. If I did, chances are likely I would end up in a hole with a bottle of lotion.

What I really don’t understand is this guy is drop dead gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted. So why not just move on?? The only thing I can figure is it must be my skin! He wants to wear it like a housecoat.

Am I being too paranoid? Or is this like Level 6 stalkerhood? (Thank God I never showed him where I live!) So how do I get through to this guy? He’s already acknowledged that he understands “the content” of our conversation. My first instinct is to just call, be consistent, and politely say no - or just remain silent. Any other suggestions??

Wordy Wednesday: Christmahanukwanzakah

2012-01-04T11:28:00.004-08:00

It's that time folks!! I must say, this week's selection of Urban Dictionary words were less than impressive. Although my ratings and the Urban Dictionary ratings of these words often differs, this week we seemed to see pretty much eye to eye on these words. What words will you adopt and which ones will you reject?

Christmahanukwanzakah - A holiday celebrating multicultural beliefs and traditions. A product of a politically correct work environment.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down (by a very small margin)

My Rating: Thumbs Down

As much as I think this is sacrilegious, blasphemous and heretical, with the multiculturiation (Now there’s a word for YOU Urban Dictionary!!) of America a term like this is sadly needed. Is this the right one? Maybeprobablynot. (And that’s two for two Urban Dictionary!)

Ghost Paranoia - A condition in which a person is convinced that there is a ghost in his or her house. A person suffering from ghost paranoia will often tell you many different stories in which they have seen a ghost in their house and/or seen a ghost doing things with physical objects in their house.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs (WAY) Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

Obviously the person that thought this one up has never met a ghost up close and personal. If they had, they would know there’s nothing to be paranoid about. Sure there are other supernatural creatures that would warrant a little paranoia – like werewolves!! Damn they are scary, but ghosts? Please!! Put your big person pants on and join the rest of the grown up world why dontcha?

Medicine Head - Mental fogginess resulting from having taken cold/flu medicine. Common side effect of certain antihistamines.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs (WAY) Down

My Rating: Thumbs Up

Ok. So it doesn’t exactly blow my socks off, but I like this term just the same, because it’s legit. Medicine head happens to all of us even Tiger Woods! So why not peg the condition with a name?

Shit Bic - Term for a disposable lighter kept in bathroom for the purposes burning out extremely offensive odors.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs (WAY) Down

My Rating: Thumbs (WAY) Down

Wow. It never fails. I can always find at least one new offensive term on Urban Dictionary every week. In fact, Maybe I should start awarding a most offensive word of the week award when I do these?? Yup. Done. Just like that! New year, new rules! I hereby award Shit Bic the most offensive term of the week!! I have to admit however, that even though I found this disgusting, it definitely cleared up some confusion on why my Grandmother who never smoked always carried a pack of matches in her pocket.

Shit Bic, I hereby officially award you:

New Year’s Flu – This is a sickness that is brought on by kissing random strangers at midnight of New Year's Eve. It exhibits many of the same symptoms of the common cold or flu.

Urban Dictionary Rating: Thumbs Down

My Rating: Thumbs Down

Had I only known this was socially acceptable, I would definitely be suffering from New Year’s Flu right now!! Damn I missed my chance to stick my tongue down the throats of multiple strangers in one night!!

Now prepare to be astounded by my ability to weave these wordy Wednesday words into a charming little tale of bloggers united.

It was New Years Day and RCB awoke with a throbbing head and a sore throat. He vaguely recounted the group of college cheerleaders he made out with the previous night, and thought perhaps he was suffering from New Year’s Flu.

Upon entering his kitchen, he was seized by a coughing fit and he realized he was probably suffering from the less fun kinda flu. He headed for the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet until he uncovered a half used bottle of cough medicine. RCB unscrewed the cap and guzzled the remains.

“There,” RCB muttered. “that oughtta do the trick.”

From deep within his bowels an uncomfortable movement became to take hold and RCB took a seat on his man throne and braced himself for the impact.

*Authors Note: Why the hell must I always write in bathroom scenes in my Wordy Wednesday editions??*

When he was finished, he reached for the Shit Bic as he was expecting company later that morning. He certainly didn’t want to scare Padded Cell Princess away with any unpleasant odors. It was bad enough that she already suffered from Ghost Paranoia every time she set foot in his house. He certainly didn’t need to give her another reason to be frightened during her visit.

The pounding in RCB’s head seemed to grow louder. Then he realized it was somebody knocking on the front door. As the first signs of Medicine Head began to take hold, RCB opened the door for Padded Cell Princess.

“Happy New Year!” she cried and threw her arms around RCB’s neck.

“Hey sis!” he said forcing the cheer into his voice.

They exchanged their usual greetings, but Padded Cell Princess stood reluctantly out on the door step.

“Are you going to come in?” RCB asked.

“Is the ghost around today?” Padded Cell Princess whispered as she tentatively stuck her head through the doorway with wide eyes darting in every corner.

“I’ve told you there is NO ghost here Princess,” RCB said wearily.

Padded Cell Princess remained rooted on the doorstep.

“No, it’s hasn’t been around for the holiday’s. I think Christmas makes the ghost sad,” RCB answered.

Finally, satisfied Padded Cell Princess entered the house.

RCB offered to make her a cup of coffee.

“Sure,” Padded Cell Princess answered from over her shoulder.

She was already busy inspecting RCB’s collection of holiday greeting cards, scanning undoubtedly, for anything of romantic significance. Her concentration was broken when she set her eyes on a card that read: Happy Christmahanukwanzakah!

“Where did this come from??” Padded Cell Princess asked, holding up the card for RCB to see.

RCB already knew which card had caught his sister’s attention. It was the one his co-worker had given him. He really didn’t want to tell his sister that, because he knew she would automatically assume there was some romantic footwork at play – which was exactly the case and he certainly didn’t feel like discussing the fact that he needed a boner barrier every time he talked to this woman.

RCB feigned ignorance.

“Ah… geez, you know what?? I don’t really know.”

Padded Cell Princess’s eyebrow shot up and she gave him the hairy eyeball.

“Really, I have no idea!”

“Well, I don’t think she’s right for you,” said Padded Cell Princess shortly.

“What? Why? Who said… ?” RCB stammered.

“It’s clearly signed by a woman, so don’t even bother trying to lie about it RCB!” Padded Cell Princess answered hotly.

RCB accepted his defeat.

“So why isn’t she right for me?”

“Please!” said Padded cell Princess. “She can’t even commit to just one religion what makes you think she’ll commit to a man??”

RCB rolled his eyes. This year was going to be a long one.

The Best of 2011

2012-01-02T12:14:00.000-08:00

I for one am SO glad 2011 is finished. I know 2012 is going to be a much better year for me!! I just KNOW it! As bad as 2011 was for me, I thought I would still try to part with it on good terms. So I've compiled a list (a short one) of the better memories I had last year.

Best Decision: Going Back to School!! Pursuing a career in Digital Imaging is SO much fun!!

Favorite Trip: Inn by the Sea in South Portland with my GF Christine

Best Celebration: Burlesque Show on my Birthday with JS

Coolest Thing I Made to Eat: Girl Child's 7th Birthday Cake

Three Best Comments I Received:

1) You have a very diverse personality, meaning you can fit in anywhere with anybody. You have enough class to mingle with the rich, but you're also not so stuck up that you can't have friends in low places.
(My dear friend Brenda)

2.) "You never have to worry about crossing the line with me. There is no line with us. I'll love you forever." (My BFF, AKA Sparrow)

3) "Your body is so beautiful, it belongs in a painting." (The Stone Whisperer)

So long 2011!!

Scorpion in a Box

2011-12-27T09:44:00.001-08:00

I’ve been holding off on this post. In fact, I would have rather ignored it all together, but sometimes words have a life of their own and sometimes they demand to be written. Have you ever had something inside of you that was pressing so hard to get out that you finally had to cave and write about it??

Christmas morning was pretty hard because it marked the anniversary of when Minute Man proposed to me two years ago. He had stayed up after I went to bed Christmas Eve and gone outside and started carving out letters in the snow outside our window. When I woke up I looked out the window and saw the following message written in the snow: Marry Me?

I dreaded looking out the window this past Christmas morning, half expecting to see another message. Maybe something like: I’m an Idiot, or Please Forgive Me? Or maybe just I’m Sorry. But there were no letters in the snow (probably due in large part that there was no snow) and the only words that touched my heart Christmas Day were the unspoken ones circling in frenzy deep within me.

I’ve been trying not to blog about Minute Man or Girl Child. I miss them both in a way that I never could have imagined. I get angry at myself for missing Minute Man. He ~~sometimes~~ often didn’t treat me very nice and he doesn’t deserve to be missed, but I miss him just the same. Or maybe I just miss the guy I thought he was, and maybe I just fell in love with an illusion. Maybe that guy I fell in love with never existed at all. Maybe I was wrong about everything.

I’ve been trying to remind myself of how unhappy I was and how forgotten, lonely and unloved I felt ~~some~~ most of the time. It hasn’t been working. My mind keeps reverting back to the better times we spent together and some of the truly awesome things he did, like the Zen garden he made for me. That garden now resembles The Secret Garden overgrown with dead vegetation and corrupted with weeds, forgotten and broken just like our marriage.

I guess that’s how it is when you love somebody. You only think about the good times, and the bad times that made life so unbearable are somehow forgotten. I keep thinking maybe I’ll write down some of the things he did that hurt me. I could keep them in a book, so every time I start to miss him I can remind myself of… no, I guess that doesn’t really sound like a healthy idea now does it? That’s like keeping a scorpion in a box after healing from its sting, so next time you think about playing with scorpions you can get stung again. Right?

As masochistic as that may seem, that very method got me through a previous heartache. I once dated a guy that told me he hoped I whored around until I caught aids and died. Let me tell you, when somebody wishes you a slow and painful death it makes it a whole lot easier to get over them. Every time I started to miss him, I just reminded myself that he wished me dead. Minute Man never wished me dead. He just made me feel that way.