Not-So-Girls Night Out

So...Last Wednesday we decided to do something we haven't done in a while--Girls night out. Except there was the whole breaking- the girl-code-in-an-over-the-top-manner issue going on. Jill, being as forgiving as she is (and really wanting to get drunk), was willing to overlook the indiscretion. Unfortunately, some people get really drunk and dig their hole even deeper. As if the mood was not dampened enough, my husband was, of course, pouring water on by the bucketful. You'd think that a man would understand that girls night is GIRLS night. He didn't want to leave the bar but had no choice when all of my girls started telling him how irritating it was that he was ruining their girls night. He left begrudgingly. Took almost all of my cash and headed to the strip bar. You'd think most husbands would be thrilled with the "compromise" of not hanging out with the girls to go watch naked women. Flash forward about one hour. In the door walks my husband. And again he didn't want to leave. Again there were hateful glances and not-so-kind reminders from the girls. Again, he left begrudgingly. It was embarrassing to say the least and irritating as hell. I just don't get it.

Regarding you, Jill: You were so in the right about all of that. I wouldn't have done what I did if I thought any other way. I just hope that she gets it and, moreover, he gets it. So...girls night out next Wednesday?

On the bright side...I wrapped up my 4.0 for this semester. Not a single average below 96%. Those who know me know this was the 2nd most important thing in my life for the last 4 months. Celebrating will commence Dec. 22nd. Email invitations to follow.

Back in the Saddle

What a dreadful weekend! I've been all stuffy and chilly and coughing up unidentified substances. It seems to be over now though. I woke up this morning and can actually breathe. I wandered through the 6 more loads of laundry that piled up while I was sick and made it to the shower. I familiarized myself with the hair dryer. I'm well on my way back to what once was. And not a moment too late. I have class tonight and will probably post afterward. I have so much to talk about but not enough time now. Just wanted to go back to normal things for a moment. *Note to self: Post about Wednesday night.

You're a hardworking individual enshrouded by an overwhelming sense of mystery, beauty, and intrigue. Though always on the go, you keep focused, helping -- often rapturing -- those you meet.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

If You Only Remember One, Remember This One

I hate when something happens and pushes me into that "what am I doing here?" mode. Especially when it's something little. I shouldn't be so pissed, but I am. And I want to be. I don't need anyone else to define my boundaries, my values, my responsibilities. The adjective is "my" for a reason. You shouldn't sit on your high horse looking down when you've forgotten about the pile of discarded values and responsibilities you've climbed to reach that horse. I KNOW what I am. And, yes, I know that I am only the sum of what others perceive me to be. But you are not "others." You are barely you. Do you KNOW what you are? Do you even know how others perceive you? Why are you afraid to say that you were attracted to my intelligence or my confidence? What are you afraid that I might gain? I'm glad you liked my smile, but didn't you eventually look behind it? You know what responsible grown-ups do. Tell me, isn't that a grown-up thing? Shouldn't you look past the cover and read the book? There was a time that you loved my intuition. Didn't you know that it would come to include you? Didn't you know that I would know your thoughts before you thought them? Don't criticize me for being everything that I promised I would be.

There's Nothing Like a Meat Shower

Finally...a day that I've accomplished something. The holiday season just wears me out. I've chauffered, cleaned, shopped, and remitted appropriate payments. I've made calls, returned calls and waited for calls to be returned. I've written and read emails. I've read books, eaten fake fried eggs and fed Care Bears. I'd say it's been a pretty good day.

I read a joke today that really kind of sums up my frame of mind. I thought a few of you might enjoy it too:

Three mice are sitting in a bar in a pretty rough neighborhood late at night trying to impress each other about how tough they are. The first mouse slams a shot of scotch, and pounds the shot glass to the bar, turns to the second mouse and says: "When I see a mousetrap, I get on it, lie on my back, and set it off with my foot. When the bar comes down, I catch it in my teeth, and then bench press it 100 times."

The second mouse orders up two shots of tequila. He grabs one in each paw, slams the shots, and pounds the glasses to the bar. He turns to the other mice and replies: "Yeah, well when I see rat poison, I collect as much as I can and take it home. In the morning, I grind it up into a powder and put it in my coffee so I get a good buzz going for the rest of the day."

The first mouse and the second mouse then turn to the third mouse. The third mouse lets out a long sigh and says to the first two, "I don't have time for this bullshit. I gotta go home and fuck the cat."

Titleless

I finished up my dental work today. Well, I didn't finish it. The dentist did. My last wisdom tooth finally came out. I've always wondered about wisdom teeth. Why do they call them wisdom teeth? This is obviously a question I need to pose to Google. Speaking of Google...my cousin was telling me of some google game where you enter two random words for a google search in hopes of returning only one hit. I can't do it.

I would have given you everything but you were young and greedy and needy and, when I turned my head, you stole it anyway. I would have accepted your offering but I was young and greedy and needy and I was waiting for you to put it in a prettier box with a tighter bow. I didn't get younger. I got older and more clever. I learned to rearrange the letters of content to spell happy. I didn't get greedier. I learned to gamble with what I had and broke even. I redefined my needs and swallowed hard until my wants disappeared.

And now--now I'm older....rearranged....broken....swallowing hard. Needing you. More and more and more of you.



**Don't ask....lots and lots of words swimming around in my head. I had to get them out**

I Feel Like A Mule Kicked Me In The Chest

That's the first thing my grandpa said when they took him off the ventilator following bypass surgery. Turned out to only be a quadruple.

Grandma is absolutely sure he's going to start bitching endlessly at any moment. I told her she'd bitch too if they sliced her open from chest to navel, yanked a vein out of each leg, tied them to her heart and stapled it all back up again. She seemed to understand that.

I'm so drained. I feel like I'm on a carousel and can only catch a glimpse of something as I pass by. I try really hard to make sure I look at it again on the next pass...hoping I'll see a little more detail. I can't though because that guy with the cotton candy walked right in my way.

Focus, Focus, Focus...Hmmm, Do I Smell Chicken?

Do you think there's such a thing as adult-onset ADD? I think I have it. There are soooo many things that I would rather do than summarize and analyze "Race, Rape, and Radicalism: The Case of the Martinsville Seven, 1949-1951." I'm trying so hard to focus as I have a 4 page paper due tomorrow. I've read...oh..2 of 30 pages of the article.

My mom always says, "It will all come out in the wash." She's right. Ciera is home with me this weekend after all and says she's never going back to her father's house again. I'm in the midst of a mom-moral dilemma. Ciera received numerous birthday card wishes with cash included. There was approximately $70. Her stepmother confiscated the $25 check from Ciera's great grandmother and said it would be used to reimburse Jeremy and herself for the co-pay on Avery's staples. (They didn't even pay their full portion of that.) The step-mother then informed Ciera that she was not allowed to keep the rest of the money (cash) to bring home. She must spend it while in their home and all items purchased and not consumed would remain there. My daughter with her new 12-year-old independence was hearing none of that. She secretly placed the money in her jacket pocket and headed out to the soccer game with the rest of the family. Once there, she ran into my sister and decided that she would like to go spend the rest of the day with her. After a phone call to me to acquire permission, she went back to the van to gather her personal effects. There she finds her step-mother "watching the game" from the van. At this point the step-mother sees the cash in question peeking out of Ciera's pocket and demands possession of it. The following conversation ensues:

"Ciera, give me that money."

"No."

"Ciera, I said give me the money now."

"No, it's mine."

"I don't care if it's yours, give it to me now!"

"Nope. Bye." (Door closes...Ciera runs off to watch her cousin's game.)

This is of course followed by the step-mother exiting said van to inform father of dastardly behavior. Father waits for younger daughter's game to be over and approaches oldest daughter with the following conversation:

(Grabs Ciera's arm) "Hand it over!"

"I don't have it." (Ciera has solicited Annie's assistance in stashing the cash)

"Where is it?"

"It's mine."

"Well, you flat out told your step-mother 'No'."

"Well, it's my money."

"Fine. I'll remember this. Avery, give me a kiss."

Lots of drama for a little bit of birthday money. I know that I can't encourage her to defy her stepmother. I know I should say she's wrong. But...damn...how much control does one grown woman really need??? I've avoided the dilemma thus far by just not saying anything. Daughter #2 did call to tell me that her father said he WILL be spanking Ciera next time he sees her. (I hope she whips his ass!)

Oh God, Oh God, Yes, Yes, Yes!

I finally had some private time this morning. Wow...did I need that!! Edie stayed with Annie last night. I took the girls to school. I thought all the way there and all the way back about doing some homework or housework. All the while, I knew in the back of my head that niether of those was on the top of the priority list. So...long story short...I feel MUCH better today! I'm sitting here thinking about doing my hair and make-up for no good reason. I wonder if my long black skirt still fits. Ooh..I better not wonder that for long...I'll be depressed again.

I've been feeling a little bitchy. Well, very bitchy. I'm not sure why, but I'm trying to keep it on the down low. It's probably all this crappy weather. I hate cold and I hate rain. Extended periods of it anyway.

I know that most of my regular readers have children of their own. Do you guys think that I should INSIST that my daughter go to her father's house? She's just turned 12. She hates his wife (and I really don't blame her.) She has recently been arguing about going with him. If I thought that it was a healthy place to be I wouldn't think twice about sending her. I just don't think it is though. He and his wife fight all the time. His wife screams and yells at them. She bad-mouths me. She has NEVER in 5 years told them that she loved them or even hugged them. (His excuse for this is that she is trying to give them their space. She doesn't want to force anything on them.) It's been FIVE years since they married!! I'm having a hard time with this one.

Life, Menstrual and Relationship Cycles

My grandfather requires a quintuple bypass. It will be done Monday. The family drama has already begun. Drug addicted aunt vs. personality disorder inflicted aunt vs. my mother. It will be an interesting holiday season.

I started. Thank the Lord. The PMS was way bigger than I this month.

Ken and I are back on the upswing. Maybe because he's afraid of the PMS. I'm not sure why.

Avery got in the car today after school. She was about to burst. Literally. She jumped in and the words were flying faster than she could form thoughts. Her smile was so large that it distorted the words she was trying to say. Turns out that "they" think she might be gifted and she "needs" me to sign the letter to allow the testing. I've never seen her so excited. I hate this moment. She is very smart. But what if she doesn't "pass" the test. What will the devastation be?

It's a Girl Thing.

Girls have a code. Nobody every really told us. We just know. You don't fuck with your friend's/sister's/enemy's man or ex-man unless you want trouble. It doesn't matter how many years or how much turmoil constitutes the "ex". Men may try to convince us that the code is archaic, but as girls we are bound to honor the code. Maybe I'm paranoid; maybe I'm pre-menstrual; maybe I'm just overly sensitive, but I seemed to have witnessed numerous accounts of code oblivion this weekend. My sisters and I are close..we spend a lot of time together. Jill and I are closer. We spend as much time as we can together. This is not a new thing. We were all raised together. We have functioned under the laws of the code for 20 years now. I thank you Jill for standing up for me. I don't care if I'm married 6 more times before I die. There are just some people that my sisters should not be calling for rescue. If you were to call those same people for rescue, I would be assured that there would be no previously-determined sexual agenda involved and therefore...you would not be breaking the code. I hope you feel the same about me and certain men of yesteryear. I don't think that one (or several) of us is operating under the code when they are blatantly offering conversation and media that seems to be implying that they "have" or "had" or "could have" something that rightfully belongs to another according to the girl rules. Am I right?

No, That's Not a Branch. It's a Walking Stick.

I used to be a chameleon. Not in the lizardly sense. I used to adapt to everyone's world. Not because I'm fake. Because that's WHO I am. I'm a communicator. I talk to people and listen to people. It never mattered if it was the old man in the donut shop or the doctor at a cocktail party. That's WHO I am. But tonight...I realized...I've lost a piece of me. I was standing in a circle of small talk and *poof* there was no light-hearted banter spewing from my mouth. I couldn't even feign the little "you're oh so amusing" chuckle. I was blank. And on the way home I thought about it. You know what? I don't think I remember how to make smoky eyes with my eye shadow. I'm not sure that I know what to do with smoky eyes. I can't always remember what womanly wiles are and why one would use them. My voice mail greeting doesn't have that mysteriously sexy aura. I can't tell you the name of my girlfriends' highlights. I'm scared to death that my soulmate might call me up and actually expect me to say something insightful. Where is that damned piece of me? I need it back. It's my favorite part.

Eden..My Own Little Utopia 

Daughter Number One...Best Friend, Biggest Foe 

FORE!!!!!!!!

I've conquered the links and moved on to the pics. To be fair, I guess I should post pics of the other 2. I'll get to that....after dinner.

My beautiful middle child 

HTML...The Romantic Language

I might barely be able to learn Spanish, but I promise you this: I am an HTML genius. Ok..maybe not a genius. Still..check out the favorite link thing I did on the sidebar. I believe it to be quite impressive.

I finally got some good sex last night. I tried to make it last as long as possible considering it may be a few more weeks. It was nice, multiple-orgasm, hair-pulling, nasty-words kind of entertainment. I'll try not to bitch about the lack of "it" for a while. (I'm still, however, suffering from the apathy.)

I think I need a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio, some illegal tobacco-like product, a new outfit and a cabana boy with a suitcase full of sexually-oriented entertainment. Know where I can find a place like that?

3...2...1...You're On!

I have to let you know...my Brokawesque fantasies have shifted toward Ratheresque tendencies. I forgot how damn funny he is with his, "Just because a chicken has wings doesn't mean it flies," analogies. I freakin' love election drama.

Vote, Vote, Vote

I wanted to make sure and do my good deed for the day. If you've happened upon my blog by accident, please stop reading now and go vote if you're qualified. There's really nothing here that won't turn your brain into soup anyway. For all others that read my blog regularly, thanks for voting except those of you who aren't registered...and you know who you are. I'm voting when I pick up the girls from school. Two reasons: 1) I think my children should observe democracy in progress. 2) The polling location is next to the school. Mostly the 2nd, but..you know.
I'm excited about class tonight. I'm turning in my rough draft. Of course, I'm totally paranoid that she has some psychological secret and will know that my "Dream Diary" is totally concocted. I'm not sure that it's legal to put my real dreams in print. You know..being the bible belt and all. That's not the reason I'm excited though. I'm excited because I'm sure we will only be there about 45 minutes considering it's election night. And considering she never keeps us more than an hour and a half anyway. I guess I better run and dream up a few more dreams. I only need 3 pages.

And Now I Will Pull A Rabbit Out of My Hat

Ugh...once again, I have procrastinated to the ultimate degree. I have a math exam and history exam today. I have a rough draft of a 3 page psychology paper due tomorrow and a Spanish test on Thursday. And, once again, I've not done anything to prepare for any of these items. This may be a multi-post day. It will help relieve the stress. Off to study standard deviations for a bit. Wish me luck!