Saturday, October 30, 2004

Who Let The Freaks Out?

That's the first thing I heard when we entered the lone bar in Smallville. I was a little offended that the toothless man who lives on barstool #3 was calling ME a freak, but I was drunk and moved on. I had a blast! The costumes were hilarious. Mandy wore this battery-operated, inflatable ballerina costume. It was HILARIOUS! Melissa was a red-neck muscle man named Buck. She wore this awful padded torso that was supposed to make her look like she had muscles. She was clad in the cut-off wife-beater complete with the iron-on transfer reading "Muffdivers Class of '69" and a sweat band around her mullet wig that said "I Heart Pussy." She walked around introducing herself to everyone by saying, "Hi! My name's Buck and I'm here to fuck." You don't know how funny it was. Of course we had my costume, my sister: the pimp, my other sister: Stick man drawing, my other sister: French maid from Mardis Gras (don't ask...it just means she wore some green and purple beads and garters), Martha Stewart: incarcerated, a tap-dancing bumble bee, a slutty nun, a pregnant nun, 80's white trash girlfriend of Buck, a wizard, Jamaican bum (perpetually high), a witch and a beauty queen.
The karaoke was a good time. The strangest thing...my husband was the biggest slut in the bar last night and that's saying alot considering some of the friends I have. I wish I was pissed about it, but I'm not. I've settled into the apathetic marriage-mode. As long as he keeps paying the bills until I have my degree, I'll just deal with it then. This is quite a new feeling for me. I mean, I've never really been the jealous type but this is beyond just not being jealous. I'll have to let it float around in my head for a few days before I begin the introspective analysis.
My mother wants to keep the baby again tonight so I'm thinking maybe another night of drinking. I can't really decide. Maybe I'll go solo tonight.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Slow-Motion Spontaneous Combustion

In corresponding with Jill, I have realized that I may explode without some really good sex. Or hell..any sex at all. It's funny the phases of lust that you go through over a long period of sexless time. After a couple of days, you just fantasize about long, hot baths, hot oil massages; maybe slow, wet kisses. After about 3 or 4 days, your imagination becomes slightly randier: Bend me over the bed and roughly remove my panties. After about 5 or 6 days though, you find sexual overtones in every conversation, situation, food item. You watch the news and want to get it on with Tom Brokaw. It gets really scary. Am I alone in this?

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Just Quit Bitching And Do Your Thing Already

I'm just in one of those moods today. Don't call me because I am going to get medieval on your ass.

I do have my costume. It's great. I'm going as a "big mama." I have these huge tits and an ass that you can set your drink on; an old lady wig with rollers and a scarf; knee-highs and house shoes; the most hideous purse complete with snot rag; and these huge old-lady glasses that are reminiscent of Elton John. My husband is going as a beauty queen complete with formal and tiara.

I finished my Spanish paper. I wrote the whole thing in 3 hours. I'm a procrastinator, but I work best under pressure. It is title "La Familia: Hispanic family culture vs. American family culture." Dr. Guido Arze will be thrilled!

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Just Practicing

Link to Jill's Blog:
Trying It On

Pissing the Night Away

Ok..so, last night I had to go to my sister's house to feed her dog. (She had a date.) Now, she lives out at the lake on top of a hill. Thus, her driveway is mostly hill. You can, if you're not lazy, park at the bottom of the hill and hike up to the house. I forgot my backpack and water bottle, though, so I decided to park on the hill. I was driving my husband's truck and it's a standard shift. I don't normally drive it, so I'm not really familiar with all of the mechanics. I go in, wrestle with the dog to get him on the leash, drag him down the stairs and out the door to take care of his business. Once that was taken care of, I wrestled him back up the stairs, filled his food dish, went downstairs to write a note and grabbed a Bud Light from the refrigerator. I walk out the front door and immediately have that "something is odd but I can't put my finger on it" feeling. It was really dark so I was afraid maybe some opossum was waiting in the shadows to attack me or something. I slowly and cautiously start walking down the hill to my truck. (Did you catch that? "down the hill") About half way there, I hear "creeeak, creeeeeeak." I look up and, sure enough, the truck is oh-so-slowly rolling down the hill. At that moment I had to decide to run to it or run into the house and pee. I wasn't sure which issue was more pressing. I decided on catching the truck. It was quite an experience. And I think I did pee a little.

I've decided on a list of priorities for this week. It's part of my new, more organized life plan. I'm not sure how it's working out because the lists seem a little short on the priority side. Not to mention that I don't come up with the list until Tuesday. For example, this week I want to learn how to put links on my blog, find a Halloween costume, write my Spanish paper that's due on Thursday, and study for my history test. Pretty much in that order.

P.S. I'm also working on some catchier titles for my posts. Don't ask where it comes from, I'm not sure. This one was going to be "Holy Mary Mother of Jesus, You Just Pissed Yourself!" but I can't remember what movie I saw recently with that quote. You may think that is not a good reason not to use it, but it would really stress me out to keep looking at it and wondering where the hell I heard it.

Ok..off to learn some linking.

Monday, October 25, 2004

Screw You, Murphy

I'm pretty sure that the ghost of Murphy has chosen my life for some supernatural experiment with his law. Ha! Little did he know that there are way too many people in my life that are fully capable of studies in the here-and-now.
I would like to take a moment to make a political statement. I'm not really about political banter, but I feel driven to post something meaningful to anyone that might think that I'm a total ex-husband hating, sexually deprived fool that is only capable of thoughts with mild substance. I'M VOTING FOR GEORGE BUSH. There....no discussion..just a statement.
I'm considering dressing as a hippie for Halloween. Only so I can force my husband to do the same. That would be highly entertaining for me. I'm not sure why...I just know that it would. Plus, my sister stole my idea to be his pimp and make him dress as a ho.
I really wish I had the energy to write more tonight, but I don't. So..remind me to tell the story of why I almost pissed myself today.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Lying Like A Dog

There's only one vet here in Smallville. You can take your rabbit and/or your horse there for treatment. It sits right on the highway and is named for the famous man born here. The marquee out front always has some cute little animal related quote for your viewing pleasure. This week it says, "Dogs howl at the moon to keep humans guessing." For the first couple of days, I was asking myself, "How do they know why dogs howl at the moon?" Today though...maybe it was my mood, maybe my lack thereof...I was thinking, "Smart fuckin' dogs."

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

You Are What You Eat..No Wait...You're Only As Old As You Think You Are

It's one of those old cliches. So...here's what happens. I finish my psych test and go downstairs for a cigarette (my only solace since the sexual deprivation has begun) and a girl much younger than me asks if I want to go to her car and "smoke a little". So, I'm thinking...well, first of all-hell yeah...then, "Hmmm, do I just have that 'get-me-high' aura or does she just think I'm cool?" Quite a dilemma. So I decided on the classic answer..."I'm good, but I'll go out to the car with you." Now..I ask..do I sound like I'm not cool now? The craziest part of all is that I was wondering the whole time if it was a conflict of interest to minor in drug and alcohol abuse counseling and get high on class break at the same time. I'm sure the American Psychiatric Association has some small something to offer on the question. Of course, if I was really too concerned, I'd probably have to wonder what they have to say about drinking Bud Light like it's the nectar of the gods.
In other news, the Jimmy Kimmell dreams have subsided. Maybe because the Zoloft withdrawals have ceased. I kind of miss them. The sex dreams...not the withdrawals.
Jill still remembers me. That's good news. Although I think that Riyah may have "jumped" her into the West Side Gang. Awwhellno! (And you'd think since she does remember me, I'd have her new email address by now...but I don't.) Wonder when she may be posting to her blog again?
Do you think it's ok to date a really fat guy if he has a really nice house and a Ph.D. in pharmacology research, namely infectuous diseases? Not for my own information...at least not yet. I've just been asked for advice on the subject. I can only think of the standard, "Is he a good person?" response. I'm not sure that I'm the best person to answer this question. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I have to be with someone that I love. Or at least mostly love.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Woe Is Me

I think my husband is depriving me sexually. I think my children are trying to drive me insane. I think my mother is a bitch. I think that my sisters are too needy. I think my best friend forgot about me. I think that I missed out on the only real love of my life. I think that my ex-husband is an idiot. I think my car is a piece of shit. I think that gas is too expensive. I think other people think I'm a bad mother. I think I don't go out enough. I think I sleep too much. I think I don't get enough sleep. I think time is passing me by. Holy shit...that one was a little out there. I should probably stop thinking so much.


Tuesday, October 12, 2004

If You're Wondering What Happened To Jill

She is giggling through the haze of her new habit while her husband tries endlessly to make her laugh with his totally infantile, totally hilarious nose antics.

When It Rains, It Pours (or something like that)

So...I'm much too stressed to linger on any one incident of the last 2 weeks, but I'll try to sum it up.
10 days ago: the dog attacked me (stupid fucking dog). I'm over the limp, but not over the homicidal feelings.
4 days ago: Edie throws a toothpick holder for no appearant reason, (it was glass) it bounces off my head only after causing a laceration accompanied by the largest goose-egg in history. Every soccer mom in town is now whispering behind my back about how my husband is probably beating the hell out of me. (Don't ask how she climbed onto the kitchen table to obtain the weapon in question.)
Today: Ciera throws a rock at Avery because "she was bothering me", and needless to say, I spent an hour in the minor emergency center acquiring 3 metal staples in the head of my beatiful middle child.
In the interim, my ex husband disgusts me. My husband drives me nuts. My sisters are the whiniest bitches to walk the Earth. My mother is freakin' certifiable. I'm having sex dreams about Jimmy Kimmell (really good ones). I'm trying to come off the Zoloft. Need I go on? I desperately need a girl's night out but men are all too fucking whiny to allow that. Help me, Jill. Before I'm sleeping in the spare room with Harley Jessica. Help me.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Holy Crap!

Thank God this weekend is over. What started out as a very good weekend, ended with being mauled by my mother's German Shepherd. I don't have time to elaborate at the moment but don't worry...I will be bitching much over the next few days about it. Just suffice to say that it's been a couple of days filled with mutterings of, "Stupid fuckin' dog."

Friday, October 01, 2004

Just Stopping By

I haven't really had much to write for the past few days, but I feel like I'm neglecting my duties as a blogger. I've been obsessing over what are the lowest test scores that I can make and still maintain an A average. Wish I would have had this kind of motivation in high school. Annie called a while ago with a major crisis. Here's how it went:

(ring, ring)

Hello?

(garbled cell phone road noise and screaming into the cell phone) "Holly, OMG, there is a fucking frog in my car."

Annie, where are you?

I'M ON THE SIDE OF THE FUCKING ROAD AND THERE'S A FUCKING FROG IN MY CAR!!!

Ok, Annie. Stop crying and listen to me. Just find something to scoop it out with and th...

ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY??? I'M NOT GETTING BACK IN THE GD CAR!! THERE'S A FROG IN THERE!!

Ok, Annie...hold on a second. (I click over and dial Rachel on the other line) Rachel, Annie is on the other line and she's standing on the side of the road in hysterics because there's a frog in her car. I need you to go to where she is and get the frog out.

I'm not touching a frog. If Annie wouldn't touch it, why would I?

Because, Rachel, she will be standing on the side of the road crying all damn day.

I don't care. I'm not touching the frog.

Fine...bye. (I click back over.) Annie...where are you? (garbled conversation of strange men in background) Annie?

Ok..there are some men here and they're getting it out. I'll call you later.

Ok..bye.

(ring, ring)

Hello?

Ok..I left my car at Walgreen's. Rachel is going to go get it and drive it. Do you have a wet-vac?

Yeah, why? Because I have to clean my car out now. There's no telling what the frog actually touched in there. It makes me physically ill just to think about it.

Ok, Annie. The frog thing is stressing me out and I need to figure my grades so I'll talk to you later. Bye.

Bye.

That was actual conversation taken right out of the annals of my life. Scary, isn't it?