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Archive for October, 2006

 
|| October 19, 2006 || 12:31 pm || Comments (1) ||

Rain! Autumn! HOORAY!

Dear Jett~

In honor of this fabulously rainy-messy and suffocatingly stuffy day, we have decided to take a vacation from being well-coiffed and subtly mussed.

Instead, there will be much kicking out hither and yon. There may be some slightly exuberant, frizzy wild abandon as well. Just so you know and all.

Peace, momma–

The Hairs On Yer Head

“I was standing and waiting for prose, but portry came along and had cheap gin and stank weed, so I rode with Him.”

Foolgrinning

In the era of BYCA

I dreamt a long dream,

Sleep stuttering along and lulling me

Like the rocking of a train;

Watching the high hills and dark places

With equal absorption, ticking them off

For catalogueing somewhere inside:

Back there in my brain

(And once in awhile,

Beneath my breastbone).

In the time after, I noticed the

Salamanders sunning on rocks

The gentle, insistent breeze on limbs

The notion of the suns’ rays

Struggling valiantly, bright-firing

The cloud profiles and rendering them

Pure, unmarred silver

“Oh, there it is,” I breathed into myself.

And my God, it was all along,

Had I but surrendered my gaze.

 
|| October 17, 2006 || 9:47 pm || Comments (0) ||

Liberating:

1) After eighteen months of Completely Fucked Up Bullshit And Fully Unnecessary Dramatm, getting to tell your former spouse’s soon-to-be former spouse (quick to marry, quick to bury, HA!) that she is a stutterbrained fuck whose crazy filter is hopelessly on the fritz.

2) Getting to stay calm and levelling a finger at her as you do so.

3) Witnessing her infuriated impotence in the face of your glee.

4) Speaking to your ex-husband –whose very poor taste in second wives effectively took a sledgehammer to the relationship with his children that you have so carefully sowed into by Keeping Your Damn Mouth Shut Sometimestm and including him in every aspect of their lives possible– for one-point-five hours (at his behest) and not even toeing up to the “I TOLD YOU SO, DUMBASS” that he so richly deserves/is fully expecting. Your nemesis waiting for the shoe to drop conversation-wise is sweet, sweet nectar.

5) The knowledge that now the three-ring, circusy shambles that is your ex’s personal life is headed for divorce court, you can blog freely –with great enraged aplomb and mighty, mighty swearvocabulary– about what a complete and utter douchefacey cuntblob that piece of work he tied the knot with in July of 2005 actually is.

6) All of Cyberia realizing that in the relaying such superb a situation, your grammar, sentence structure and hearty abuse of various punctuation-type characters can be excused…and perhaps even cheered.

7) Nothing more, but there should always be a seven, don’t you think?

Tits-up, y’all. Sometimes you gotta count to ten like eighteen billion times, but the universe always rights itself. Always.

 

Why do we seek what will probably make us unhappy?

This is more suited for here than my own free-fire zone blog, so let me make one of my bi-annual posts to suggest that if you want to be sure if you’re over a Ex-Significant Other, do a search at www.peoplefinders.com. They should really call it www.StalkersLittleHelper.com for the amount of data it coughs up, including family members and spouses.

With this nasty little site, I discovered that all my ex-girlfriends are marrried (one I already knew about) and that my high school sweetheart, from whom I separated under bewildering teenage circumstances has been married for a decade and has a four-year-old son. Google didn’t unearth much, but I saw her wedding picture and while it wasn’t as woe-inducing as I feared, it was still a little surreal. Granted, she probably hasn’t let the memory of me trouble her neurons since our breakup, but it’s still weird.

The last time I heard of an ex being married, it wasn’t even an “official” g/f, but more of a “kissing friend” (in the lingo of our esteemed hostess). I was in the neighborhood of her mother’s and paid a call and learned that she had been married a while. That knocked me sideways though I hadn’t seen her in about six years. I temporarily broke up with my girlfriend and was really shaken though I had no real reason to be. It’s not quite as lame as feeling bad that Angelina Jolie went for Brad Pitt instead of me, but in the same county of lameness.

Lesson to be learned? I suppose that the reason the past is behind us and rocks have tops and bottoms is to encourage us to not go back and turn them over.

See y’all in a couple more years!

 
|| October 15, 2006 || 3:10 pm || Comments (3) ||

beautiful and ludicrous

‘Desire’

is a tiny spike

through your eyeball

fixing its gaze

on The Object Of

Your Affection

::: :: ::: :: ::: :: :::

“How is it possible, he thinks, to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her?”

// Steve Martin, Shopgirl: A Novella

 
|| October 13, 2006 || 7:37 pm || Comments (1) ||

yeehaw, now.

Welp, off with Tess and Jilli. Brandy, the hottest lesbian in DeKalb (please pronounce DEE-cab) county, has decided to throw in with us. We aim to throw our goats up and see the fellas.

One or more of us will likely get loud, one of us will likely drink Jager with the band both pre- and post-show, one of us will score the new ceedee from The Handler, one of us will likely get lippy with someone showing their ass (there’s always that nerve-stepper at shows, you know?) which will likely find all three of us back to back, broken bottles in hand and snarling at any interlopers.

Rockingham’s, Guntersville Hellabama, be there or be square! SEE ya!

Brrr, but that will melt off outside in a couple of hours; I can’t say the same about the inside of my head.

Today is a good day for Morphine.

The band, not t’other. Well, maybe t’other too, but I made my mother (not to mention the Baby Jesus and His Daddy) a promise and all.