Night finally came and conquered the landscape and soon the Desert was encased in a transparent darkness. The stars crystallized in the reflection of Statik's eyes; she could not blink as she focused her attention to the growing distance. The warm wind pushed her gently, carving an invisible current through the dark toward the glow ahead.
Statik's heart pounded in her chest like the drums of an ancient war as she approached the solitary flame posted solidly in the ground. She looked around to see if anyone was here. Here in the Desert. This is the place. A half-moon of rock cradled the place where she stood, her eyes hypnotized by the flame from the spiraling torchiére. Eventually they drifted off to the peaks stretching to the West in front of her. The end of the Desert.
Suddenly, a chill raced up her spine and searing blood coursed through her veins. Her body stiffened and the hair on the back of her neck stood out in a wave of fear. She sensed an unexpected presence. She knew in an instant that she was no longer the bloodthirsty Hunter she thought she was....she was the Hunted.
She sat down with her back to a large rock and propped herself up. The only sounds she could hear were the wind and the various nocturnal creatures in the distance. Whatever was out there had not yet gotten to her. For now she was alone. A hint of moisture and minerals in the air distracted her attention from the new presence. The dusty sand and gravel scattered as she got up to seek out the source of it.
Several meters from the crescent rocks she discovered a hidden pool. An unlikely oasis, deep and dark yet somehow inviting. She lowered her hand into the shadowy liquid. It was warm.
She stood up suddenly, sensing movement in the distance. Pain and longing. Confusion and unbridled power. A chaotic and lost sobbing. Statik did not fear this being. It was powerful, yes, whatever it was, but she realized it was not a predator as she had originally thought. It was something else. Something new.
Come. Come to me.
Walk slowly. Listen.
The outside will become the inside.
Walk to the water.
Walk.
Statik walked over to the water and dipped her hand in to scoop up a handful. She brought it to her lips and drank it in quickly. A drop fell from the corner of her mouth to her arm. She went to brush it off and she stopped. She looked closer at her arm, seeing her skin turn pale. Her vision trailed off and she was surrounded by saturated colors bleeding into a sea of black water.
She closed her eyes and sunk into the water, letting the waves and currents take her down. She opened her mouth. The dark warmth poured in, filling her; she tasted red and gold. Her body floated down, limbs relaxed and her hair floating around her. An electric tingling started at her feet and surged through her legs, torso, arms, face and to the tips of her fingertips. She touched herself all over, smoothing out her skin, every sensation telling her she was still alive...and well.
She opened her eyes and could see a flickering light above her. She reached up and could see her hand still in the wavering light of the liquid she had submerged herself in. She swam to the surface and let out a scratchy guttural yell. Arms taught from holding herself up, Statik looked down at herself, wet and breathless. She took in deep breaths and laid stretched out on her back over a nearby boulder. Her spine arched and her bosom heaved upwards as she caught her breath.
A hallucination.
She let out a sigh, pressed her lips together and mouthed some pagan words she herself did not even understand. Droplets of liquid streamed ever so slowly down her figure from all sides, down the rock, down to the ground. The Desert lapped them up greedily as they reached the sand, pulling the moisture down, sucking it in, never to be seen again.
She rocked her head from side to side, waiting now for whatever was coming next. More hallucinations, more wind, more darkness.
The flame from the torch flashed and flickered in the wind.
The sobbing in the distance was gone.
Statik smiled.
It was coming. He was coming.
She closed her eyes and laughed, "COME! COME TO MEEEEEEEEE!"
She screamed a wild holler into the wind and fell into unconsciousness.
***I thought it only fair to mention that this Statik storyline has a new contender, the Jaguar-Man. A new perspective brought to you by the master chef over at Irish Gumbo. We have accidentally come together and decided to collaborate and weave this tag team story together as it comes to us. I'm excited to be participating in such and unusual creative endeavor. Cheers!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
25 Things About Me Meme
I suppose I'll finally make good on a tag from Sheri. She's been so sweet, I just can't say no. So here goes. A list of random crap about myself. (As if it will be that hard to talk about myself. LOL)
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits or goals about you. Then tag 25 people, including the person who tagged you.
1. I have blue eyes...sort of...I guess they have a bit of gray and green too.
2. Like, Sheri, I also wanted to be an actress when I was a kid. But in high school I realized I was a good singer and I had lousy memorization skills so I couldn't ever remember my lines. Not unless they were set to music. Go figure.
3. I’d like to be a "real" writer. It sounds right. But where to start?
4. I have two kids.
5. I have at least 7 different kinds of tea in the house because I never know what mood I'll be in....and then of course there's the coffee...that has to be 100% Columbian.
6. I'm a food snob.
7. I eat almonds and pecans like a ravenous squirrel.
8. I still dress up for Halloween.
9. I have an ego just about the same size as Bono's, only he's better at dealing with it I think...he admits he has one and it's fine, I admit I have one and then I feel really guilty about it.
10. I hate most men's colognes. I get really irritated if I hug someone and they leave cologne smell on me when I don't like it. My husband wears Curve and I love it.
11. How someone takes there coffee is serious business. I take mine with 2 sugars and half & half....although if the coffee is good enough, I take it with sugar and a splash of cold water.
12. I read National Geographic magazine.
13. I used to install burglar alarms in apartment complexes. I was one of 2 women in the whole Dallas/Forth Worth metroplex that was in installation and repairs. It made me feel like a bad ass lol. Funny story, one guy was home when I came to install one and he actually asked me, "Are you here to announce the installers?" Like I was fucking Vanna White or something. WTF! I made sure to make a big loud production out of cutting a hole in his wall for the panel. LMAO
14. Other jobs I've had: bartender, cable/DSL (and some hardware) tech support representative, 1 hour photo lab cashier, waitress, general office temp for numerous places...and now mom. Longest job I ever held lol.
15. I have a high pitched voice and I mumble a lot.
16. I like maps.
17. I can bake some mean zucchini muffins and peanut butter blossom cookies.
18. I don't generally wear yellow gold. I prefer white gold.
19. My favorite flowers are Asiatic lilies and alstroemeria.
20. I find comedy roasts and mean slapstick (ala Jackass Kenny Rogers) hilarious.
21. I have a thing for green eyes
22. I recently discovered that music helps me write better....I've been avoiding music for a few years and I can't figure out how that happened, considering I used to do nothing but listen to music. I will try not to set aside music like that in the future as it obviously has a great impact on my spirits. It helps me focus.
23. I still retain some personality traits learned from my ex boyfriends. Weird how people have that much of an impact on your life.
24. Even though I consider myself a really good singer, I still go to karaoke bars. Although sometimes I can't help but feel like the equivalent of Emmit Smith playing in a Little League game when I do. Doh.
25. One of my irrational fears is believing I am going to blow up while driving a car whenever I see someone flick a cigarette out the window in front of me and I see it bounce under my car....I imagine it igniting my gas tank. Ack!
25 People I Am Tagging: Irish Gumbo, ChurchPunkMom, Cat (I know you don't have time for it but you can at least have the link lol), Just Me (Paige), Wild Child, RxVenomQueen (because she hasn't been around in a while and I kind of miss her), Goat and Tater, Rooked (because I think he hates me lol), and ok well I don't really know 25 blogs so that's enough for now I guess....
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits or goals about you. Then tag 25 people, including the person who tagged you.
1. I have blue eyes...sort of...I guess they have a bit of gray and green too.
2. Like, Sheri, I also wanted to be an actress when I was a kid. But in high school I realized I was a good singer and I had lousy memorization skills so I couldn't ever remember my lines. Not unless they were set to music. Go figure.
3. I’d like to be a "real" writer. It sounds right. But where to start?
4. I have two kids.
5. I have at least 7 different kinds of tea in the house because I never know what mood I'll be in....and then of course there's the coffee...that has to be 100% Columbian.
6. I'm a food snob.
7. I eat almonds and pecans like a ravenous squirrel.
8. I still dress up for Halloween.
9. I have an ego just about the same size as Bono's, only he's better at dealing with it I think...he admits he has one and it's fine, I admit I have one and then I feel really guilty about it.
10. I hate most men's colognes. I get really irritated if I hug someone and they leave cologne smell on me when I don't like it. My husband wears Curve and I love it.
11. How someone takes there coffee is serious business. I take mine with 2 sugars and half & half....although if the coffee is good enough, I take it with sugar and a splash of cold water.
12. I read National Geographic magazine.
13. I used to install burglar alarms in apartment complexes. I was one of 2 women in the whole Dallas/Forth Worth metroplex that was in installation and repairs. It made me feel like a bad ass lol. Funny story, one guy was home when I came to install one and he actually asked me, "Are you here to announce the installers?" Like I was fucking Vanna White or something. WTF! I made sure to make a big loud production out of cutting a hole in his wall for the panel. LMAO
14. Other jobs I've had: bartender, cable/DSL (and some hardware) tech support representative, 1 hour photo lab cashier, waitress, general office temp for numerous places...and now mom. Longest job I ever held lol.
15. I have a high pitched voice and I mumble a lot.
16. I like maps.
17. I can bake some mean zucchini muffins and peanut butter blossom cookies.
18. I don't generally wear yellow gold. I prefer white gold.
19. My favorite flowers are Asiatic lilies and alstroemeria.
20. I find comedy roasts and mean slapstick (ala Jackass Kenny Rogers) hilarious.
21. I have a thing for green eyes
22. I recently discovered that music helps me write better....I've been avoiding music for a few years and I can't figure out how that happened, considering I used to do nothing but listen to music. I will try not to set aside music like that in the future as it obviously has a great impact on my spirits. It helps me focus.
23. I still retain some personality traits learned from my ex boyfriends. Weird how people have that much of an impact on your life.
24. Even though I consider myself a really good singer, I still go to karaoke bars. Although sometimes I can't help but feel like the equivalent of Emmit Smith playing in a Little League game when I do. Doh.
25. One of my irrational fears is believing I am going to blow up while driving a car whenever I see someone flick a cigarette out the window in front of me and I see it bounce under my car....I imagine it igniting my gas tank. Ack!
25 People I Am Tagging: Irish Gumbo, ChurchPunkMom, Cat (I know you don't have time for it but you can at least have the link lol), Just Me (Paige), Wild Child, RxVenomQueen (because she hasn't been around in a while and I kind of miss her), Goat and Tater, Rooked (because I think he hates me lol), and ok well I don't really know 25 blogs so that's enough for now I guess....
Friday, January 30, 2009
20 Things I Could Look Forward Too
1. Travel: I love taking trips, and I would love to go someplace exotic: Thailand, some Caribbean island (aww man those Jamaican guys *drool*), Japan, Switerland, Brazil, England, Ireland, Galapagos....I want to go all over the place. That would most definitely be something to look forward to.
2. My dream home somewhere near mountains, with trees and fields and not too far of a drive to the beach. I can't be landlocked no matter how much I think places like South Dakota and Montana are freaking awesome. I am in love with the ocean.
3. A latte with a friend in NYC - I don't know which friend cuz I don't have many anymore, so anyone will do.
4. Getting to know new people on an intimate level. I absolutely adore establishing meaningful relationships and feeling like I can make someone happy in some way or another. I like to read people, discover, and give them something useful or meaningful so that I might enrich their lives somehow, whether it be through the arts or through words or in more extreme approaches, with a soft touch.
5. Having a traditional cup of tea in China.
6. Camping
7. Going to the beach - as many as I can!
8. Dancing the night away
9. Watching my kids grow
10. Going on dates that end in sex lol
11. Getting my hair cut and liking it
12. Getting a manicure/pedicure AND a massage all in one day
13. Going to school to be a pastry chef
14. Eating cornbread
15. Eating a delicious gourmet meal at a nice restaurant
16. Meeting Bono and saying something that interests him
17. Singing with Phil Collins
18. Writing a book
19. Meeting Megan in person and plotting our attack on the Irish Chef (lol)
20. Drinking a glass of my grandma's sun tea at her house in Texas and enjoying her company
2. My dream home somewhere near mountains, with trees and fields and not too far of a drive to the beach. I can't be landlocked no matter how much I think places like South Dakota and Montana are freaking awesome. I am in love with the ocean.
3. A latte with a friend in NYC - I don't know which friend cuz I don't have many anymore, so anyone will do.
4. Getting to know new people on an intimate level. I absolutely adore establishing meaningful relationships and feeling like I can make someone happy in some way or another. I like to read people, discover, and give them something useful or meaningful so that I might enrich their lives somehow, whether it be through the arts or through words or in more extreme approaches, with a soft touch.
5. Having a traditional cup of tea in China.
6. Camping
7. Going to the beach - as many as I can!
8. Dancing the night away
9. Watching my kids grow
10. Going on dates that end in sex lol
11. Getting my hair cut and liking it
12. Getting a manicure/pedicure AND a massage all in one day
13. Going to school to be a pastry chef
14. Eating cornbread
15. Eating a delicious gourmet meal at a nice restaurant
16. Meeting Bono and saying something that interests him
17. Singing with Phil Collins
18. Writing a book
19. Meeting Megan in person and plotting our attack on the Irish Chef (lol)
20. Drinking a glass of my grandma's sun tea at her house in Texas and enjoying her company
"Lover, You Should Have Come Over"
Jeff Buckley fans catapult ‘Hallelujah’ up charts in response to X-Factor single
Fans of the late singer Jeff Buckley are celebrating his return to the charts after starting a campaign to make his version of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ the Christmas number one.
The Facebook campaign began after it was announced that the X-Factor winner, Alexandra Burke, would be recording a cover of the cult track as her ‘winner’s song’.
After only several days, the group has attracted over 100,000 members, and Buckley’s track has reached number three in the iTunes chart, just three places behind the X-Factor version.
Buckley’s cover of the song has garnered a great deal of critical acclaim since its release 14 years ago; Leonard Cohen, who originally wrote ‘Hallelujah’, preferred it to his own version, Q Magazine voted it one of their ‘Top 10 Greatest Tracks’, branding it “as near perfect as you can get”, and Rolling Stone included it in a list of the ‘500 Greatest Songs of All Time’.
Buckley, who died in 1997, has attracted a huge cult following – including many celebrities. Robert Pattinson, star of Twilight, recently spoke of his wish to play Buckley in the planned biopic Mystery White Boy, whilst Brad Pitt has previously expressed a desire to help produce the film.
Despite hoping to knock Alexandra from the number one spot, the campaign founder Lucy Powell stresses that this is not an attack on the X-Factor winner. “I just wanted to make it clear to people that there was already an amazing version of ‘Hallelujah’. I didn’t like the idea of a song whose lyrics and melody I have found incredibly moving being used to sell records by whichever competitor won a talent contest.”
Whatever the end result, supporters of the campaign have sent a clear message - by managing to chart Buckley’s ‘Hallelujah’ an incredible 14 years after its release.
And now the song that has moved me many years over and over.
"Lover, You Should've Come Over" lyrics by Jeff Buckley
Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water
And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know
When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run
Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one
So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn
Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come
It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever
Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong
Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
Oh, love well i'm waiting for you
Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Have a listen, you won't be disappointed.
"So Real" is another one of my favorites.
www.myspace.com/jeffbuckley
RIP Jeff, you are sorely missed.
Fans of the late singer Jeff Buckley are celebrating his return to the charts after starting a campaign to make his version of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ the Christmas number one.
The Facebook campaign began after it was announced that the X-Factor winner, Alexandra Burke, would be recording a cover of the cult track as her ‘winner’s song’.
After only several days, the group has attracted over 100,000 members, and Buckley’s track has reached number three in the iTunes chart, just three places behind the X-Factor version.
Buckley’s cover of the song has garnered a great deal of critical acclaim since its release 14 years ago; Leonard Cohen, who originally wrote ‘Hallelujah’, preferred it to his own version, Q Magazine voted it one of their ‘Top 10 Greatest Tracks’, branding it “as near perfect as you can get”, and Rolling Stone included it in a list of the ‘500 Greatest Songs of All Time’.
Buckley, who died in 1997, has attracted a huge cult following – including many celebrities. Robert Pattinson, star of Twilight, recently spoke of his wish to play Buckley in the planned biopic Mystery White Boy, whilst Brad Pitt has previously expressed a desire to help produce the film.
Despite hoping to knock Alexandra from the number one spot, the campaign founder Lucy Powell stresses that this is not an attack on the X-Factor winner. “I just wanted to make it clear to people that there was already an amazing version of ‘Hallelujah’. I didn’t like the idea of a song whose lyrics and melody I have found incredibly moving being used to sell records by whichever competitor won a talent contest.”
Whatever the end result, supporters of the campaign have sent a clear message - by managing to chart Buckley’s ‘Hallelujah’ an incredible 14 years after its release.
And now the song that has moved me many years over and over.
"Lover, You Should've Come Over" lyrics by Jeff Buckley
Looking out the door i see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water
And maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight you're on my mind so you never know
When i'm broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much i need it
Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run
Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
And much too blind to see the damage he's done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one
So i'll wait for you... and i'll burn
Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn
Oh lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come
It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when i slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever
Well maybe i'm just too young
To keep good love from going wrong
Oh... lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Well I feel too young to hold on
And i'm much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage i've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
Oh, love well i'm waiting for you
Lover, you should've come over
'Cause it's not too late
Have a listen, you won't be disappointed.
"So Real" is another one of my favorites.
www.myspace.com/jeffbuckley
RIP Jeff, you are sorely missed.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
If Only Tonight We Could....
Tiny flecks of grit and sand blasted Statik's legs as she walked steadfast deep into the red velvet dunes of the Desert. The warm gusts of wind whipped her hair against her cheek and stung her salty lips. The sun had vanished in the dusky horizon leaving only the sensuous traces of red, gold and blue followed by the warm black of the night ahead. Twilight was Statik's favorite time of day. Suspended Desire. The beautiful intense colors you can get only after the sun has set but night has not yet grasped it's claws upon the Earth. The same beautiful intensity you feel just before a kiss, a first kiss. That kiss that takes years in a single moment to start. Staring, wondering, not surely knowing, wanting, hoping, praying, longing, needing.....until you have to close your eyes so as not to go mad. Heart racing, short of breath, then a fingertip brushes your neck. A gasp escapes your lips from both pleasure and the pain of waiting....and your breath gets quicker....you open your eyes and see that face that haunts your very soul. You see it move ever so close to yours....
It's as if the night was casting a spell. Statik's heart raced the farther she walked on, farther into the Desert, farther from civilization, from people, from noise, from eyes and ears. She knew what was out there. Out in the middle of Nowhere.
She saw her destination before her. A vast, flat, sleeping field of sand and occasional dry brush. Jagged, darkened peaks jutted out in the distance, an echo of giant obsidian spears that must have made the Earth scream in agony as they came forth from the depths. A solitary flame from a torch hovered above the ground a mile ahead. There it is, she thought heavily, He must be there now.
With every footstep, the sky grew darker and darker, the spell casting stronger and stronger. She could smell the dust of sand and stone, the musky hint of moisture released in the air as the earth beneath her relaxed from the heat of day. Almost there.
The wind whipped through her hair again, sending the pin-straight whisps fluttering about like flags upon mountain tops. It felt good. The raw power of the wind, driving her on, no regrets. The wind cannot regret. It doesn't have to. It is expected to flow into your life and to move you, then disappear again...perhaps again and again, perhaps not. Her walking boots crunched the ground as she walked on. The noise of it surprisingly muffled in the deafening quiet of the Desert. Statik took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. I'm coming.
I will be there.
....to be continued....
It's as if the night was casting a spell. Statik's heart raced the farther she walked on, farther into the Desert, farther from civilization, from people, from noise, from eyes and ears. She knew what was out there. Out in the middle of Nowhere.
She saw her destination before her. A vast, flat, sleeping field of sand and occasional dry brush. Jagged, darkened peaks jutted out in the distance, an echo of giant obsidian spears that must have made the Earth scream in agony as they came forth from the depths. A solitary flame from a torch hovered above the ground a mile ahead. There it is, she thought heavily, He must be there now.
With every footstep, the sky grew darker and darker, the spell casting stronger and stronger. She could smell the dust of sand and stone, the musky hint of moisture released in the air as the earth beneath her relaxed from the heat of day. Almost there.
The wind whipped through her hair again, sending the pin-straight whisps fluttering about like flags upon mountain tops. It felt good. The raw power of the wind, driving her on, no regrets. The wind cannot regret. It doesn't have to. It is expected to flow into your life and to move you, then disappear again...perhaps again and again, perhaps not. Her walking boots crunched the ground as she walked on. The noise of it surprisingly muffled in the deafening quiet of the Desert. Statik took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. I'm coming.
I will be there.
....to be continued....
What the F is a Meme?
MEME frome the Daily Meme - BLAM! There you go. Definition. Sort of.
Oooohhhhh so THAT'S what it is!
I copy someone else's stuff and do what I want with it and then make it my own and nobody cares and it's not plagiarism because it's encouraged. Gotcha.
Ok.
Anyway....here's some more shit that made me LOL for some dumb reason.
Oooohhhhh so THAT'S what it is!
I copy someone else's stuff and do what I want with it and then make it my own and nobody cares and it's not plagiarism because it's encouraged. Gotcha.
Ok.
Anyway....here's some more shit that made me LOL for some dumb reason.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
I Guess I'll Join the Wordless Wednesday Crew
But only for the last 30 minutes of the day.
Oh whoops, there's some words....oh well. FAIL.
Enjoy:
This freaked me the fuck out:
Oh whoops, there's some words....oh well. FAIL.
Enjoy:
This freaked me the fuck out:
On A Beach
Tubes. She woke up in an instant. Her eyes switched on and opened wide. The icy blue iris cracked open as her pupils shrank in the white light. Her body was cold and wet and gray. She imagined for an instant that she was laying on a slick brushed steel gurney, her dark brown hair splayed out like a water-tossed clump of seaweed.
She was not in a teal colored room with white sheets and metal medical tools.
She was not under a cold burning white lamp with tubes coming out of her mouth and various body parts.
She felt rough sand scratching against her shoulder blades, digging into her hips.
Her pinky flickered. She could move, barely. She scraped at the sand with her tiny fingernail. A bit of grit slid beneath. She coughed up water and sucked in the air greedily and hastily letting out a sharp wheezing sound.
As she caught her breath and whisked the water from her tear ducts, she noticed she was on a secluded beach, palm trees to the left, a mile of flat beach and occasional boulders to the right. It was early morning, the sun just coming up. No footprints in the sand.
Statik looked down at her legs stretched out in the sand. She stared at the random specks of multicolored sand stuck to her skin. Normally she would try and brush it off, but didn't feel like it this time. Tugging at her soggy white linen shirt and shorts, she thought to herself, I should be wondering where I am. But I don't care.
She smiled a half smile. I don't care where I am. For all I know this is Utopia. She threw her head back with a pleasurable smirk and felt her damp hair pulling at her scalp like massaging fingers caressing her, soothing her, relaxing her.
She sat up and admired the turquoise vista coming to life in full color with the sun. Nobody around. Just the sound of the ocean waves, bristling and simmering onto the shore in thin bubbling layers. The moment was fleeting.
Surely she must try and get some bearings. Find out what, where, why and how she was here. Life wasn't so bad that you could just forget and forgive that quickly, was it?
Her thoughts shook out of her brain like droplets of water, disappearing in to the sand. Sinister. Without a trace. Just like the story of her arrival. Last she remembered was walking along the city beach, pissing and moaning to herself about going home to an empty bed.
Now she was here. In a solitary paradise. Perhaps an oxymoron.
Statik furled her eyebrow in faint attempt at remembering anything from the night before. She couldn't even remember what she was doing before she fell asleep. Crisp, cool white sheets, wrinkling and bunching as she tossed and turned and slid her hands along their folds. That was the best she could do.
Dreaming. Am I dreaming?
Is this a dream within a dream?
She stood up to look around, feeling slightly woozy, the same feeling one gets when they have been turned on, tortured and teased, then left hanging from afar. A tiny pulse of electricity between her legs distracted her momentarily as she squeezed her thighs together to stifle the sensations. This is no time to be feeling horny. Where the fuck am I? It's nice and all, but what the fuck?
She touched the sand. It feels real.
She touched her chest. It feels real.
She screamed. It sounded real.
She felt the pulsing between her thighs again. And again.
Leading her thoughts, she smoothed her hand across her crotch, hoping to either make it go away or stimulate it more - either might do.
Her mind strayed to the past. A dark rainy night, tail lights in the foreground, yellow lines on the road eaten up as if the car was PacMan in first person. Stay in your lane. Driving down the road, led by passion, led by the heart strings the size of ropes, led by intense yearning, the carrot of fulfillment. Hungry for the touch that ignites the flesh, swelling desire scorching and licking it's way from the inside out. The taste of blood on a tamed hunter's lips erasing all inhibitions, all delays, all the years of collected memories, all logic, all wisdom. Ensnared in a feverish tempest of anxiety and excitement, the car drives on, into the night, over the Flatlands, the Desert. There is no turning back now, she justifies herself. There is no turning back. It waits, ever so patiently for your arrival. In a dark doorway, in a dark house, in the shadows, it is there. It. Lust. Satiation. Forbidden Fruit. Lifeblood.
But not love. It's not love waiting in that secluded hole in the Desert.
It's nothing but a Release. Turn back. Go home to Good Love. Go home to Safety. To Boring. You are Lucky. You're one of the Lucky ones.
Statik shook her head as if something was stuck in her ear. Again the sounds of the beach reminded her that she was in a different time, different place. "Having nine lives could be worse, I guess." she said.
She woke up in an instant. Her eyes switched on and opened wide. The icy blue iris cracked open as her pupils shrank in the white light. She looked over at the alarm clock that she never used and noticed the time: 7:34am. She flopped back down on her pillow. The sunlight flickered through the curtains as they moved in the breeze.
Feels like the winds have changed direction this morning. Perhaps it's time to go for another walk to the water. Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk....
I'm ready to let you in....whoever you are. Just come to me again. I'll let you in. Just ask me to let you in.
She was not in a teal colored room with white sheets and metal medical tools.
She was not under a cold burning white lamp with tubes coming out of her mouth and various body parts.
She felt rough sand scratching against her shoulder blades, digging into her hips.
Her pinky flickered. She could move, barely. She scraped at the sand with her tiny fingernail. A bit of grit slid beneath. She coughed up water and sucked in the air greedily and hastily letting out a sharp wheezing sound.
As she caught her breath and whisked the water from her tear ducts, she noticed she was on a secluded beach, palm trees to the left, a mile of flat beach and occasional boulders to the right. It was early morning, the sun just coming up. No footprints in the sand.
Statik looked down at her legs stretched out in the sand. She stared at the random specks of multicolored sand stuck to her skin. Normally she would try and brush it off, but didn't feel like it this time. Tugging at her soggy white linen shirt and shorts, she thought to herself, I should be wondering where I am. But I don't care.
She smiled a half smile. I don't care where I am. For all I know this is Utopia. She threw her head back with a pleasurable smirk and felt her damp hair pulling at her scalp like massaging fingers caressing her, soothing her, relaxing her.
She sat up and admired the turquoise vista coming to life in full color with the sun. Nobody around. Just the sound of the ocean waves, bristling and simmering onto the shore in thin bubbling layers. The moment was fleeting.
Surely she must try and get some bearings. Find out what, where, why and how she was here. Life wasn't so bad that you could just forget and forgive that quickly, was it?
Her thoughts shook out of her brain like droplets of water, disappearing in to the sand. Sinister. Without a trace. Just like the story of her arrival. Last she remembered was walking along the city beach, pissing and moaning to herself about going home to an empty bed.
Now she was here. In a solitary paradise. Perhaps an oxymoron.
Statik furled her eyebrow in faint attempt at remembering anything from the night before. She couldn't even remember what she was doing before she fell asleep. Crisp, cool white sheets, wrinkling and bunching as she tossed and turned and slid her hands along their folds. That was the best she could do.
Dreaming. Am I dreaming?
Is this a dream within a dream?
She stood up to look around, feeling slightly woozy, the same feeling one gets when they have been turned on, tortured and teased, then left hanging from afar. A tiny pulse of electricity between her legs distracted her momentarily as she squeezed her thighs together to stifle the sensations. This is no time to be feeling horny. Where the fuck am I? It's nice and all, but what the fuck?
She touched the sand. It feels real.
She touched her chest. It feels real.
She screamed. It sounded real.
She felt the pulsing between her thighs again. And again.
Leading her thoughts, she smoothed her hand across her crotch, hoping to either make it go away or stimulate it more - either might do.
Her mind strayed to the past. A dark rainy night, tail lights in the foreground, yellow lines on the road eaten up as if the car was PacMan in first person. Stay in your lane. Driving down the road, led by passion, led by the heart strings the size of ropes, led by intense yearning, the carrot of fulfillment. Hungry for the touch that ignites the flesh, swelling desire scorching and licking it's way from the inside out. The taste of blood on a tamed hunter's lips erasing all inhibitions, all delays, all the years of collected memories, all logic, all wisdom. Ensnared in a feverish tempest of anxiety and excitement, the car drives on, into the night, over the Flatlands, the Desert. There is no turning back now, she justifies herself. There is no turning back. It waits, ever so patiently for your arrival. In a dark doorway, in a dark house, in the shadows, it is there. It. Lust. Satiation. Forbidden Fruit. Lifeblood.
But not love. It's not love waiting in that secluded hole in the Desert.
It's nothing but a Release. Turn back. Go home to Good Love. Go home to Safety. To Boring. You are Lucky. You're one of the Lucky ones.
Statik shook her head as if something was stuck in her ear. Again the sounds of the beach reminded her that she was in a different time, different place. "Having nine lives could be worse, I guess." she said.
She woke up in an instant. Her eyes switched on and opened wide. The icy blue iris cracked open as her pupils shrank in the white light. She looked over at the alarm clock that she never used and noticed the time: 7:34am. She flopped back down on her pillow. The sunlight flickered through the curtains as they moved in the breeze.
Feels like the winds have changed direction this morning. Perhaps it's time to go for another walk to the water. Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk....
I'm ready to let you in....whoever you are. Just come to me again. I'll let you in. Just ask me to let you in.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
This is Chinese Thinking
I've been all gung-ho Chinese New Year today.
I even put up bright red and gold Chinese new year wall scrolls with blessings in calligraphy on each side of my interior front door.
I read a few blogs about the way things are done, and yes I know that it was actually yesterday, but still....I felt like celebrating too.
One such lucky tradition is to eat well or eat lavishly to start the new year out bountiful so it will also end that way.
So I decided to go out and get some red bell pepper, some chicken legs (cuz they are cheap and payday isn't until Thursday) and some sweet & sour sauce to cook with. I already had fresh pineapple at home as well as a huge back of sushi grade rice. I originally had to go to the store for baby formula and bread and TP for my bunghole, but I added a few other ingredients for my meal.
My husband has class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He gets home late, around 9.
Regardless, I still cook dinner for everyone and just save a plate usually.
SO I figured, yum yum, must make Chinese.
He calls me to ask what's for dinner at one point.
I tell him.
He doesn't like that I paid with a check, thinking it may bounce or something.
I am not worried. I know that it takes them at least two days to submit and process that shit, and that includes both the store AND the bank. Plenty of time before payday, no? Whatever....I am not worried, in my book, he shouldn't be either. And that's all I have to say about that.
Later on after the meal is cooked, the kids are in bed, snug and safe and sleeping soundly, he comes home and proceeds to eat his meal. Before I started blogging just now, I ended up in a tiff.
The rest of this story, I have already told a friend, a fellow mom and blogger that goes by the name of Church Punk Mom. Here is our AIM conversation:
ter1byte: I am back
ajnkjsmom: :-)
ter1byte: AAAnyway
ter1byte: I don't know why I'm in such a bitchy mood but I am
ter1byte: so where was I
ajnkjsmom: pms?
ter1byte: I've read some Amy Tan books before
ter1byte: I'm smack in the middle of my period, maybe it's that
ajnkjsmom: prob.. that's when it hits me
ter1byte: and I was thinking in Chinese....and of course he doesn't know that, buy I know it because I 've read my Amy Tan and I've learned a few things about Chinese etiquette etc
ajnkjsmom: yeah
ter1byte: so he's talking about what he did in class, which is cool, but then he starts stuffing his face again and not saying much of course....but what do I do to continue the conversation?
ter1byte: I say, "You would have failed at a Chinese woman's dinner."
ter1byte: He's like "What?"
ajnkjsmom: lol
ter1byte: I am already making myself laugh
ter1byte: I'm loling for realz over here and I'm sure he's wondering wtf yet again
ter1byte: so anyway
ajnkjsmom: lol
ter1byte: I repeat this nonsense, because that's what it sounds like in retrospect
ter1byte: and he says again, "WTF are you talking about?"
ter1byte: then it gets worse
ter1byte: I try to explain
ajnkjsmom signed on at 9:36:54 PM.
ter1byte: explaining doesn't work with him and I...and the reason is because when I start explaining, it comes out too slow
ter1byte: and then he gets impatient and makes a comment
ter1byte: and that usually pisses me off
ajnkjsmom: lmao
ter1byte: so I start to explain, "Well, if you were at a Chinese woman's dinner, you would be going on and on about how great my cooking is and how this is the most wonderful meal you have ever eaten."
ter1byte: and he doesn't let me finish and he says, "I'm too busy eating."
ajnkjsmom: :0
ter1byte: Which is ALSO a good comeback because that would mean he likes the food....so of course even though it COULD BE a compliment, it makes me mad anyway because I was right in the middle of bitching and you don't compliment someone who is already bitching...
ajnkjsmom: ha!
ter1byte: BUT this is Chinese thinking, that you are supposed to LOVE the cooking and say so....and I didn't get a chance to say that....so now here it looks like I'm some old Chinese woman standing in the kitchen holding a damn spoon, mumbling to herself about a rude dinner guest.
ajnkjsmom: lOL
ajnkjsmom: brb.. kids freaking out.. need to put them to bed.. j's upstairs working :P
ter1byte: Then he says, "You know what...?" as if irritated, and then I ask WHAT WHAT WERE YOU GONNA SAY? And nothing. Just keeps eating. IGNORING ME NOW?!?!? OH HELL NO, IT'S TIME TO PUT SOME LOTION ON MY HANDS TO SOOTHE MY POOR DRY CRACKLY SKIN AND SHUN THE DAMN DISHES AND GO GET ON THE INTERNET TO BITCH SOME MORE. To you, Church Punk Mom. Thanks for listening. BUT he comes down here and starts fiddling with the internet saying it's too slow and this and that and wants to restart the router right in the middle of my conversation with you which ticks me off again and so I write to you where I know he can see what I am typing, "he wants to restart the router right this very minute" and I do so with a loud clack with each. single. keystroke.
ter1byte: Which starts me off on another bitchy tirade, etc etc etc.
ter1byte: So yeah....I think you're right. I'm belated PMSing or something.
ajnkjsmom: LMAO
ter1byte: I think I'm gonna post this on my blog. It's just too crazy not to document this.
ajnkjsmom: definitely ;-)
I even put up bright red and gold Chinese new year wall scrolls with blessings in calligraphy on each side of my interior front door.
I read a few blogs about the way things are done, and yes I know that it was actually yesterday, but still....I felt like celebrating too.
One such lucky tradition is to eat well or eat lavishly to start the new year out bountiful so it will also end that way.
So I decided to go out and get some red bell pepper, some chicken legs (cuz they are cheap and payday isn't until Thursday) and some sweet & sour sauce to cook with. I already had fresh pineapple at home as well as a huge back of sushi grade rice. I originally had to go to the store for baby formula and bread and TP for my bunghole, but I added a few other ingredients for my meal.
My husband has class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He gets home late, around 9.
Regardless, I still cook dinner for everyone and just save a plate usually.
SO I figured, yum yum, must make Chinese.
He calls me to ask what's for dinner at one point.
I tell him.
He doesn't like that I paid with a check, thinking it may bounce or something.
I am not worried. I know that it takes them at least two days to submit and process that shit, and that includes both the store AND the bank. Plenty of time before payday, no? Whatever....I am not worried, in my book, he shouldn't be either. And that's all I have to say about that.
Later on after the meal is cooked, the kids are in bed, snug and safe and sleeping soundly, he comes home and proceeds to eat his meal. Before I started blogging just now, I ended up in a tiff.
The rest of this story, I have already told a friend, a fellow mom and blogger that goes by the name of Church Punk Mom. Here is our AIM conversation:
ter1byte: I am back
ajnkjsmom: :-)
ter1byte: AAAnyway
ter1byte: I don't know why I'm in such a bitchy mood but I am
ter1byte: so where was I
ajnkjsmom: pms?
ter1byte: I've read some Amy Tan books before
ter1byte: I'm smack in the middle of my period, maybe it's that
ajnkjsmom: prob.. that's when it hits me
ter1byte: and I was thinking in Chinese....and of course he doesn't know that, buy I know it because I 've read my Amy Tan and I've learned a few things about Chinese etiquette etc
ajnkjsmom: yeah
ter1byte: so he's talking about what he did in class, which is cool, but then he starts stuffing his face again and not saying much of course....but what do I do to continue the conversation?
ter1byte: I say, "You would have failed at a Chinese woman's dinner."
ter1byte: He's like "What?"
ajnkjsmom: lol
ter1byte: I am already making myself laugh
ter1byte: I'm loling for realz over here and I'm sure he's wondering wtf yet again
ter1byte: so anyway
ajnkjsmom: lol
ter1byte: I repeat this nonsense, because that's what it sounds like in retrospect
ter1byte: and he says again, "WTF are you talking about?"
ter1byte: then it gets worse
ter1byte: I try to explain
ajnkjsmom signed on at 9:36:54 PM.
ter1byte: explaining doesn't work with him and I...and the reason is because when I start explaining, it comes out too slow
ter1byte: and then he gets impatient and makes a comment
ter1byte: and that usually pisses me off
ajnkjsmom: lmao
ter1byte: so I start to explain, "Well, if you were at a Chinese woman's dinner, you would be going on and on about how great my cooking is and how this is the most wonderful meal you have ever eaten."
ter1byte: and he doesn't let me finish and he says, "I'm too busy eating."
ajnkjsmom: :0
ter1byte: Which is ALSO a good comeback because that would mean he likes the food....so of course even though it COULD BE a compliment, it makes me mad anyway because I was right in the middle of bitching and you don't compliment someone who is already bitching...
ajnkjsmom: ha!
ter1byte: BUT this is Chinese thinking, that you are supposed to LOVE the cooking and say so....and I didn't get a chance to say that....so now here it looks like I'm some old Chinese woman standing in the kitchen holding a damn spoon, mumbling to herself about a rude dinner guest.
ajnkjsmom: lOL
ajnkjsmom: brb.. kids freaking out.. need to put them to bed.. j's upstairs working :P
ter1byte: Then he says, "You know what...?" as if irritated, and then I ask WHAT WHAT WERE YOU GONNA SAY? And nothing. Just keeps eating. IGNORING ME NOW?!?!? OH HELL NO, IT'S TIME TO PUT SOME LOTION ON MY HANDS TO SOOTHE MY POOR DRY CRACKLY SKIN AND SHUN THE DAMN DISHES AND GO GET ON THE INTERNET TO BITCH SOME MORE. To you, Church Punk Mom. Thanks for listening. BUT he comes down here and starts fiddling with the internet saying it's too slow and this and that and wants to restart the router right in the middle of my conversation with you which ticks me off again and so I write to you where I know he can see what I am typing, "he wants to restart the router right this very minute" and I do so with a loud clack with each. single. keystroke.
ter1byte: Which starts me off on another bitchy tirade, etc etc etc.
ter1byte: So yeah....I think you're right. I'm belated PMSing or something.
ajnkjsmom: LMAO
ter1byte: I think I'm gonna post this on my blog. It's just too crazy not to document this.
ajnkjsmom: definitely ;-)
Into the Night
She walked along the midnight beach, barefoot, floating and weaving in and out of the line where the water kisses the sand. The sky was dark and endless but the beach was illuminated by an unnatural sickly blue. The glow from some distant fluorescent radiation and the pollution of city lights bathed the sand in a cool ashy white blanket. The cold water on her skin sent chills through her body, goosebumps coming and going with every other step.
What was she doing out here so late, all alone, hair falling in her face in the night air? She looked up at the skyline and felt her heart sink in her chest like a dead weight as she admired the warm glow of the nearest skyscraper. What a marvel. That man can build and build and design such innovative structures. But for what? To house? To provide for? No. These glowing giants in the night do not serve families. They serve money. They serve bastions of egos. They are phallic symbols of man's desire to be recognized for their appearances with the extra pride of being utilitarian as well. Yet she is still in awe of them, regardless of her penis envy, regardless of her half-attempts at feminism.
Statik may do as she pleases, she may follow her whims, she may even be so bold as to say "tell me I can't and I'll show you I can", but she knows her place as a woman. Not that she's saying "there are just some things a woman can't do." It's more of accepting that there are some things a woman doesn't HAVE to do, or rather, why bother doing other than for the sake of proving to men that she can? It's not enough women give childbirth and bear the emotional brunt of catastrophes, family affairs and tragedies? Hospital visits, doctor visits, caring for the sick and wounded, wiping noses, sweeping floors, writing thank you cards, making homes warm and inviting, sheathing a hard working man's cock in the night so that everything is right in the world again....that's a tough job. Does she really have to open a jar of pickles alone? Does she really have to squish that bug? Does she really have to carry a briefcase and wear shoulder pads? Does she really have to refuse a man opening a door for her? Does she really have to wear a uniform and go to war? Must she give up the old ways of fainting spells and not finishing her plate?
The answer to these, Statik muses, is NO.
Being Politically Correct is Bullshit. Seriously, aside from equal wages and voting, the Feminist movement didn't do much for her than eliminate the 70's era kind of tolerance for boorish Man-Pigs.
It is a good thing she wore black tonight.
This way she can blend into the horizon as just another strange silhouette and be left alone. Leave me alone tonight.
As she walked on, the chunky buildings looming in front of her twinkled in their dull, fool's gold kind of way. Unimpressive and sparkling, the artificial lights establishing their nocturnal presence seemed such a waste, considering the center of the city was abandoned after 6pm most days and left as hollow beacons. Just another territorial marking on the face of the planet.
She looked down at the creeping waters, bored and restless. She tired of teasing the ocean with her bare skin and decided to head home. Perhaps tomorrow she would find a way to release her carnal yearnings. For now, she must go home, tie herself to the bedpost and bear the call of the sirens one more time.
What was she doing out here so late, all alone, hair falling in her face in the night air? She looked up at the skyline and felt her heart sink in her chest like a dead weight as she admired the warm glow of the nearest skyscraper. What a marvel. That man can build and build and design such innovative structures. But for what? To house? To provide for? No. These glowing giants in the night do not serve families. They serve money. They serve bastions of egos. They are phallic symbols of man's desire to be recognized for their appearances with the extra pride of being utilitarian as well. Yet she is still in awe of them, regardless of her penis envy, regardless of her half-attempts at feminism.
Statik may do as she pleases, she may follow her whims, she may even be so bold as to say "tell me I can't and I'll show you I can", but she knows her place as a woman. Not that she's saying "there are just some things a woman can't do." It's more of accepting that there are some things a woman doesn't HAVE to do, or rather, why bother doing other than for the sake of proving to men that she can? It's not enough women give childbirth and bear the emotional brunt of catastrophes, family affairs and tragedies? Hospital visits, doctor visits, caring for the sick and wounded, wiping noses, sweeping floors, writing thank you cards, making homes warm and inviting, sheathing a hard working man's cock in the night so that everything is right in the world again....that's a tough job. Does she really have to open a jar of pickles alone? Does she really have to squish that bug? Does she really have to carry a briefcase and wear shoulder pads? Does she really have to refuse a man opening a door for her? Does she really have to wear a uniform and go to war? Must she give up the old ways of fainting spells and not finishing her plate?
The answer to these, Statik muses, is NO.
Being Politically Correct is Bullshit. Seriously, aside from equal wages and voting, the Feminist movement didn't do much for her than eliminate the 70's era kind of tolerance for boorish Man-Pigs.
It is a good thing she wore black tonight.
This way she can blend into the horizon as just another strange silhouette and be left alone. Leave me alone tonight.
As she walked on, the chunky buildings looming in front of her twinkled in their dull, fool's gold kind of way. Unimpressive and sparkling, the artificial lights establishing their nocturnal presence seemed such a waste, considering the center of the city was abandoned after 6pm most days and left as hollow beacons. Just another territorial marking on the face of the planet.
She looked down at the creeping waters, bored and restless. She tired of teasing the ocean with her bare skin and decided to head home. Perhaps tomorrow she would find a way to release her carnal yearnings. For now, she must go home, tie herself to the bedpost and bear the call of the sirens one more time.
Welcome the Ox!
Chinese give Year of the Ox a noisy welcome
BEIJING (Reuters) - Chinese welcomed the arrival of the Year of the Ox with raucous celebrations on Sunday, despite gloom about the economy, setting off firecrackers in the streets and sending fireworks into the sky. Celebrations were expected to carry on into the early hours of Monday, officially the first day of the Lunar New Year.
Year Of The Ox (Cow)
1913, 1925, 1937, 1949, 1961, 1973, 1985, 1997
People born in the Year of the Ox are patient, speak little, and inspire confidence in others. They tend, however, to be eccentric, and bigoted, and they anger easily. They have fierce tempers and although they speak little, when they do they are quite eloquent. Ox people are mentally and physically alert. Generally easy-going, they can be remarkably stubborn, and they hate to fail or be opposed. They are most compatible with Snake, Rooster, and Rat people
Monday, January 26, 2009
Gone Fishing: Absolutely Shameless Show & Tell
I'm in the mood to force people to notice me, so here it goes....
1) I'm a damn good singer and I am so confident and proud of it that should be punished for not doing more with it.
So here are some older and not as awesome as I would like to showcase examples of said pipes:
"Box of Moonlight" - music & lyrics by Greg B. (guitar/drums) (2004)
"Lady Luck" - music by John K. (piano), lyrics by me, Teri M. (vocals - duh) (2004)
"Desert Star" - an idea that has yet to be transformed into a full length song, but I thought of the harmony and chord progression while showering one day.
This shower took place in the apartment of the one and only hilarious, yet still gangsta, T-bone in Dallas, TX when he so graciously let me live with him for several months as a good-for-nothin freeloader - hey, at least I cleaned the place. Anyway, all the voices and pops you hear are all me recorded in layers with a shitty Windows microphone recorder program using a ridiculous amount of reverb.
PLEASE listen to these and tell me what you think. These were never released as they were just something we tooled around with at Hank's (whom I call Frank for some reason - he's the bass player). If the mother fuckers from Wenis (our band name that I still hate but they won't change) ever get a hold of a program to edit some shit with, I'd have a copy of our better stuff - including the one and only song I wrote all by myself and finally got played and recorded. Sigh.
2) I'm lookin' pretty good these days for having two kids and turning 30 in July this year.
After perusing what's left of my archives, I'm actually kind of glad I'm doing this because it's kind of neat seeing the changes in appearance). Here's some of my most smokin' pictures from over the years to mark my age progression in a personal journey through the trials of female beauty:
Age: 16
Age: 17
Age: 18
Age: 19
Age: 20
(yes I was an anime toon for a while - trust me, it's weird being in 2D)
Age: 21
Age: 22
(That's T-Bone!)
Age: 23
Age: 24
Age: 25
Age: 26
Age: 27
Age: 28
Age: 29
Woo! Ok, putting up all those pictures wore me out.
On to number 3) I'm a good writer?
Well, I'd like to think so, but after all of that attention whore business I just spent two hours doing, I really don't feel much like writing anymore LOL
So just ogle and throw compliments at me already! That's all I really wanted from this post anyway. Hence the "Gone Fishing" sign on my title.
It's been a long time since I've been properly ogled what with all this mommy business, cooking, cleaning, and actually NEEDING coffee for the first time in my life. I've lost some weight and I actually feel like I could stop traffic again with the attitude I've gotten from it! So go ahead, readers! Shower me with adoration! MUAH! MUAH!
**Ham Lemonade**
1) I'm a damn good singer and I am so confident and proud of it that should be punished for not doing more with it.
So here are some older and not as awesome as I would like to showcase examples of said pipes:
"Box of Moonlight" - music & lyrics by Greg B. (guitar/drums) (2004)
"Lady Luck" - music by John K. (piano), lyrics by me, Teri M. (vocals - duh) (2004)
"Desert Star" - an idea that has yet to be transformed into a full length song, but I thought of the harmony and chord progression while showering one day.
This shower took place in the apartment of the one and only hilarious, yet still gangsta, T-bone in Dallas, TX when he so graciously let me live with him for several months as a good-for-nothin freeloader - hey, at least I cleaned the place. Anyway, all the voices and pops you hear are all me recorded in layers with a shitty Windows microphone recorder program using a ridiculous amount of reverb.
PLEASE listen to these and tell me what you think. These were never released as they were just something we tooled around with at Hank's (whom I call Frank for some reason - he's the bass player). If the mother fuckers from Wenis (our band name that I still hate but they won't change) ever get a hold of a program to edit some shit with, I'd have a copy of our better stuff - including the one and only song I wrote all by myself and finally got played and recorded. Sigh.
2) I'm lookin' pretty good these days for having two kids and turning 30 in July this year.
After perusing what's left of my archives, I'm actually kind of glad I'm doing this because it's kind of neat seeing the changes in appearance). Here's some of my most smokin' pictures from over the years to mark my age progression in a personal journey through the trials of female beauty:
Age: 16
Age: 17
Age: 18
Age: 19
Age: 20
(yes I was an anime toon for a while - trust me, it's weird being in 2D)
Age: 21
Age: 22
(That's T-Bone!)
Age: 23
Age: 24
Age: 25
Age: 26
Age: 27
Age: 28
Age: 29
Woo! Ok, putting up all those pictures wore me out.
On to number 3) I'm a good writer?
Well, I'd like to think so, but after all of that attention whore business I just spent two hours doing, I really don't feel much like writing anymore LOL
So just ogle and throw compliments at me already! That's all I really wanted from this post anyway. Hence the "Gone Fishing" sign on my title.
It's been a long time since I've been properly ogled what with all this mommy business, cooking, cleaning, and actually NEEDING coffee for the first time in my life. I've lost some weight and I actually feel like I could stop traffic again with the attitude I've gotten from it! So go ahead, readers! Shower me with adoration! MUAH! MUAH!
**Ham Lemonade**
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Little Mama's my name, whining's my game
I forgot how much I have always wanted a good nickname.
Ok, so maybe I'm not being original here, but I was inspired by another blogger who also had a life spanning longing for a good nickname and now here is my story.
When I was a little girl, my mother tells me, everyone called me a Little Doll.
The reason for this was thanks to my bright blue eyes and my porcelain-looking face. I looked just like one of those little porcelain dolls they used to sell back then. I used to have one too. I remember she was named Sarah (all my dolls were named Sarah, actually, including my reflection in the mirror) and one of her hands was broken off with only a sharp pointy porcelain nub left.
At any rate, it wasn't much of a nickname so much as a comparison to judge my little girl good looks. My mom had a nickname for me growing up, make that TWO nicknames (one for when I was being naughty): Punkin' and Little Punk. As I got older the nicknames transformed into Ya Punk Kid and Brat. Now my step-father, whom I lovingly call "Daddy" has always had a nickname for me and it has never changed, even to this day. He calls me "Princess". I love that nickname but nobody else can call me that really. I suppose it's just a special father/daughter thing.
With peers in mind, it was in high school that I decided I really needed a good nickname. Nothing was wrong with my given name, in fact, people thought my name WAS a nickname for Theresa or something. Nope...just Teri. I always loved my name. BUT I still wanted a nickname. So of course, I tried to give myself one. How lame. How embarrassing in retrospect. But if you must know, I decided to call myself "Lucky". See? Look at me! I can jay-walk across the street in downtown Dallas without looking and not get hit! Lucky! Look at me! I can not do my homework all semester then ace the final exams and pass with a C because I'm just that smart and lazy. Lucky! Look at me! This name sounds really cool and special and I'm good to have in your pocket as a charm. Lucky!
Okkaaay....
That didn't last too long because as anyone knows, once you've given yourself a nickname...you're a dork. I gave it up since nobody wanted to use it.
I did get a couple in high school from friends. One guy called me T-bird. That one was cool because I guess he was cool so it all worked out. Another girlfriend called me Teri Tarantula or just Tarantula because we used to stand in opposite ends of a hallway, put our arms up in the air like a pissed off tarantula and run towards each other with over-exaggerated high steps as if we were psycho spiders and end up laughing by the time we got close to each other. (It was a silly time).
I've also been called a handful of other not so great names growing up, like Shrimp, Shorty, Four-Eyes, Speck, and sometimes they would act like I wasn't even there when I talked as if to say I was so little that they couldn't hear or see me (hence "Speck"). But I digress.
Teridactle was kind of cool but I made that one up so it only got used a handful of times too. It wasn't until my Filipino step-mother went a bit further with the "Bo" nicknames of my real father's family. Basically they just added a "-bo" to the end of everyone's shortened names. Uncle Billy was Bil-bo, Uncle Charlie was Cha-bo, Elsa was El-bo....etc...it's kind of dumb, but whatever. I ended up being Ter-bo, which is tolerable because it sounded like "turbo" which is just fine with me. But my stepmother, Elsa, started calling me Teri-yaki, and she thought that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. I wasn't amused. At first. Now it's my myspace name because it's funny and it's cool because it is a rather tasty ingredient in some of my favorite meals.
Nobody calls me that really, outside of myspace these days.
So what is my nickname now?
My husband calls me "Babe". It's endearing to me. If I think about it harder than what it really is, I could say it was a cooler version of "baby", a little more grown up, not as saccharine or too mushy. It's a tough guy "baby". Makes sense, considering my husband doesn't get to the mushy foo foo extreme side of the romance spectrum. Although there are times I've wished for some kind of cute pet name, but alas.
My almost 3 year old daughter has also unwittingly given me a nickname. She calls me Little Mama. Probably because I call her brother, Little Guy, she calls me Little Mama. I love it. Actually, one of my ex-boyfriends used to say "Let's roll, Little Mama" whenever we'd decided to go somewhere and we were heading out the door. I used to love that too. It was just so much fun.
My sister and I have a LOVING name calling relationship too.
Her nickname for me is "Fat" or "Fatty", even though I don't consider myself fat.
My nickname for her is "Ugly" even though she doesn't consider herself ugly. At least I hope she doesn't haha!
When I was pregnant and visiting the parents' house where she still resides, I had taken a shower and was standing in the living room with a towel on when she came downstairs. She immediately bellowed, "ARRRR! THERE BE THE WHITE WHALE!"
I couldn't help but laugh. We have a special mean streak that we enjoy inflicting upon one another. We are also big fans of the hecklers from the Muppet Show. We've even come up with our own little sketches as if we were them. (P.S. She's the ugly one).
Over the years I've had some online names for instant messaging, RPGs and other online games. These names are the exception to the give yourself a name = dork rule. Online names can still be cool even if you pick them out because they represent you like an avatar. My aliases have ranged mostly in the techie, Spanish or Japanese nomenclature:
Zorra - used it a lot in IRC chats when I was first an online entity. Spanish for "Vixen", but what I wasn't aware of was the Spanish slang use of the word, which was more along the lines of "slutty whore" and so once I started getting unsolicited sex offers in español, I decided that was the end of that name.
Satsukiyami - I believe means "dark night during the rainy season", was fitting for my brooding stage...also it sounded like the dark, mysterious mood I liked to project - the rainy season aspect made it sound sexy too.
Statik - a cooler version of static - not that I stay in one place or anything, far from it, but it was more on the play of statik electricity....I'm electric! :P
Anyway, that name morphed into my current internet name, which is also more of an entity now: statikradio.
It came from the U2 song "Stay (Far Away, So Close) lyrics, "...far away, so close, up with the static and the radio...". It made me think of being suspended in outer space with chaotic quiet, floating in the darkness, yet surrounded with endless sources of light. I liked it. What can I say?
But here I am going on and on about the internet when really, I just want a pet name. A nickname from friends that means something or is just silly. I guess you have to have friends for something like that. I've lost most of mine over the years. I suppose not having a nickname now is reminding me that I'm lonely, that I don't have any close friendships - except one that lives in Texas still, only we call each other maybe once a month or so.
Today's glass of cold lemonade has a splash of nostalgia bitters and a smallest-violin-in-the-world garnish on it. Drink it up, readers. Just for fun, anyone who feels like commenting can give this drink a good nickname. Heh.
Ok, so maybe I'm not being original here, but I was inspired by another blogger who also had a life spanning longing for a good nickname and now here is my story.
When I was a little girl, my mother tells me, everyone called me a Little Doll.
The reason for this was thanks to my bright blue eyes and my porcelain-looking face. I looked just like one of those little porcelain dolls they used to sell back then. I used to have one too. I remember she was named Sarah (all my dolls were named Sarah, actually, including my reflection in the mirror) and one of her hands was broken off with only a sharp pointy porcelain nub left.
At any rate, it wasn't much of a nickname so much as a comparison to judge my little girl good looks. My mom had a nickname for me growing up, make that TWO nicknames (one for when I was being naughty): Punkin' and Little Punk. As I got older the nicknames transformed into Ya Punk Kid and Brat. Now my step-father, whom I lovingly call "Daddy" has always had a nickname for me and it has never changed, even to this day. He calls me "Princess". I love that nickname but nobody else can call me that really. I suppose it's just a special father/daughter thing.
With peers in mind, it was in high school that I decided I really needed a good nickname. Nothing was wrong with my given name, in fact, people thought my name WAS a nickname for Theresa or something. Nope...just Teri. I always loved my name. BUT I still wanted a nickname. So of course, I tried to give myself one. How lame. How embarrassing in retrospect. But if you must know, I decided to call myself "Lucky". See? Look at me! I can jay-walk across the street in downtown Dallas without looking and not get hit! Lucky! Look at me! I can not do my homework all semester then ace the final exams and pass with a C because I'm just that smart and lazy. Lucky! Look at me! This name sounds really cool and special and I'm good to have in your pocket as a charm. Lucky!
Okkaaay....
That didn't last too long because as anyone knows, once you've given yourself a nickname...you're a dork. I gave it up since nobody wanted to use it.
I did get a couple in high school from friends. One guy called me T-bird. That one was cool because I guess he was cool so it all worked out. Another girlfriend called me Teri Tarantula or just Tarantula because we used to stand in opposite ends of a hallway, put our arms up in the air like a pissed off tarantula and run towards each other with over-exaggerated high steps as if we were psycho spiders and end up laughing by the time we got close to each other. (It was a silly time).
I've also been called a handful of other not so great names growing up, like Shrimp, Shorty, Four-Eyes, Speck, and sometimes they would act like I wasn't even there when I talked as if to say I was so little that they couldn't hear or see me (hence "Speck"). But I digress.
Teridactle was kind of cool but I made that one up so it only got used a handful of times too. It wasn't until my Filipino step-mother went a bit further with the "Bo" nicknames of my real father's family. Basically they just added a "-bo" to the end of everyone's shortened names. Uncle Billy was Bil-bo, Uncle Charlie was Cha-bo, Elsa was El-bo....etc...it's kind of dumb, but whatever. I ended up being Ter-bo, which is tolerable because it sounded like "turbo" which is just fine with me. But my stepmother, Elsa, started calling me Teri-yaki, and she thought that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. I wasn't amused. At first. Now it's my myspace name because it's funny and it's cool because it is a rather tasty ingredient in some of my favorite meals.
Nobody calls me that really, outside of myspace these days.
So what is my nickname now?
My husband calls me "Babe". It's endearing to me. If I think about it harder than what it really is, I could say it was a cooler version of "baby", a little more grown up, not as saccharine or too mushy. It's a tough guy "baby". Makes sense, considering my husband doesn't get to the mushy foo foo extreme side of the romance spectrum. Although there are times I've wished for some kind of cute pet name, but alas.
My almost 3 year old daughter has also unwittingly given me a nickname. She calls me Little Mama. Probably because I call her brother, Little Guy, she calls me Little Mama. I love it. Actually, one of my ex-boyfriends used to say "Let's roll, Little Mama" whenever we'd decided to go somewhere and we were heading out the door. I used to love that too. It was just so much fun.
My sister and I have a LOVING name calling relationship too.
Her nickname for me is "Fat" or "Fatty", even though I don't consider myself fat.
My nickname for her is "Ugly" even though she doesn't consider herself ugly. At least I hope she doesn't haha!
When I was pregnant and visiting the parents' house where she still resides, I had taken a shower and was standing in the living room with a towel on when she came downstairs. She immediately bellowed, "ARRRR! THERE BE THE WHITE WHALE!"
I couldn't help but laugh. We have a special mean streak that we enjoy inflicting upon one another. We are also big fans of the hecklers from the Muppet Show. We've even come up with our own little sketches as if we were them. (P.S. She's the ugly one).
Over the years I've had some online names for instant messaging, RPGs and other online games. These names are the exception to the give yourself a name = dork rule. Online names can still be cool even if you pick them out because they represent you like an avatar. My aliases have ranged mostly in the techie, Spanish or Japanese nomenclature:
Zorra - used it a lot in IRC chats when I was first an online entity. Spanish for "Vixen", but what I wasn't aware of was the Spanish slang use of the word, which was more along the lines of "slutty whore" and so once I started getting unsolicited sex offers in español, I decided that was the end of that name.
Satsukiyami - I believe means "dark night during the rainy season", was fitting for my brooding stage...also it sounded like the dark, mysterious mood I liked to project - the rainy season aspect made it sound sexy too.
Statik - a cooler version of static - not that I stay in one place or anything, far from it, but it was more on the play of statik electricity....I'm electric! :P
Anyway, that name morphed into my current internet name, which is also more of an entity now: statikradio.
It came from the U2 song "Stay (Far Away, So Close) lyrics, "...far away, so close, up with the static and the radio...". It made me think of being suspended in outer space with chaotic quiet, floating in the darkness, yet surrounded with endless sources of light. I liked it. What can I say?
But here I am going on and on about the internet when really, I just want a pet name. A nickname from friends that means something or is just silly. I guess you have to have friends for something like that. I've lost most of mine over the years. I suppose not having a nickname now is reminding me that I'm lonely, that I don't have any close friendships - except one that lives in Texas still, only we call each other maybe once a month or so.
Today's glass of cold lemonade has a splash of nostalgia bitters and a smallest-violin-in-the-world garnish on it. Drink it up, readers. Just for fun, anyone who feels like commenting can give this drink a good nickname. Heh.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thankful
Last night I showed up late to a MOM's Club mom's night out at the Cheesecake Factory.
I would have gone earlier but my husband didn't want me to leave him with the kids when he had homework to do. Although he didn't even get started on it until after they were in bed anyway, so I don't know what damn difference it made other than we both got to play with them before bedtime and I putzed around on the internet wasting even MORE time.
Anyway....but I went anyway. One of our moms and her husband have been hit hard by the economy and the real estate mess. Her husband is in business for himself in real estate and sad to say, it's so bad that they have to pack up their entire house (they rent though, isn't that ironic?) and move out of there before the end of the month because they can't afford rent. The worst part is that she and her daughters will have to move to her family's place all the way in Mexico and her husband will stay here in some dumpy cheap place so he can try and get them out of debt. I know she is floored and overwhelmed. She asked if I could watch her girls next week for a few hours so she can get some packing done. I told her not to worry about it, it is no burden to me, and not to be embarrassed because we are friends and that's just what friends do. I will watch them all day for however many days she needs.
All the ladies at the table last night came up with a raffle and raised money for her within a matter of a couple of days and gave her half of the $200 and something dollars. All the moms have organized the Meals for Moms thing that they do and everyone volunteered to make a meal and bring dinner for each night of the week they are still here. I feel so badly for her and I will miss her very much. We will all miss her. And I only took the time to hang out with her a handful of times even though she was quickly becoming one of my better friends of the group. I'm just glad that we have such a great group of girls - even if I don't connect on a best friend level with all of them, I am amazed at how people can come together for another like that. It's something we should all be able to do. It's something that our countrymen should be able to do for each other on a regular basis. It's what makes life better, when capitalism isn't the main concern, when you think of others before yourself from time to time. I mean, it isn't that hard is it? She told us before we all left that she was touched and moved and that because of our mom's club president and all of our contributions, she has had her faith restored that there are good people in the world.
That is awesome....but I wish we didn't have to be amazed and have our faith restored in people. I'd like to think people are generally good in the world. I don't know if media and bad news journalism is to blame, but I'm sick of it and I'm hoping that with this new Presidency and the whole "Hope" campaign in the media, that people are waking up to being good to each other. Will people ever tire of apathy? Probably not....but I'm thinking they will be the people of the younger mindset. I'm thinking that those younger 20-somethings that I used to be, will grow out of the idea that they are the only ones on the planet besides "smelly horrible kids" and "old geezers" that make driving a pain in the ass.
So I am thankful for my humble yet elegant rental home.
I am thankful that my family is still in tact.
I am thankful that my kids are smart and spunky and usually healthy (besides this never ending cold we seem to have)
I am thankful that I can go to Lowe's and buy $30 worth of hardware for a dresser that my mom got for me for free from my aunt, even though the screws that come with them aren't long enough and I have to pack up the kids out into the cold and go back and buy longer ones.
I am thankful that I am having a little birthday party for my one year old this Saturday even though we are out of extra cash for the month.
I am thankful that I have a Wii and World of Warcraft and all the other toys that we got so I didn't have to leave the house and spend money to keep myself entertained.
I will be more thankful though if my daughter would potty train already so I didn't have to buy anymore diapers. LOL
Guess I'm never satisfied. :P
I would have gone earlier but my husband didn't want me to leave him with the kids when he had homework to do. Although he didn't even get started on it until after they were in bed anyway, so I don't know what damn difference it made other than we both got to play with them before bedtime and I putzed around on the internet wasting even MORE time.
Anyway....but I went anyway. One of our moms and her husband have been hit hard by the economy and the real estate mess. Her husband is in business for himself in real estate and sad to say, it's so bad that they have to pack up their entire house (they rent though, isn't that ironic?) and move out of there before the end of the month because they can't afford rent. The worst part is that she and her daughters will have to move to her family's place all the way in Mexico and her husband will stay here in some dumpy cheap place so he can try and get them out of debt. I know she is floored and overwhelmed. She asked if I could watch her girls next week for a few hours so she can get some packing done. I told her not to worry about it, it is no burden to me, and not to be embarrassed because we are friends and that's just what friends do. I will watch them all day for however many days she needs.
All the ladies at the table last night came up with a raffle and raised money for her within a matter of a couple of days and gave her half of the $200 and something dollars. All the moms have organized the Meals for Moms thing that they do and everyone volunteered to make a meal and bring dinner for each night of the week they are still here. I feel so badly for her and I will miss her very much. We will all miss her. And I only took the time to hang out with her a handful of times even though she was quickly becoming one of my better friends of the group. I'm just glad that we have such a great group of girls - even if I don't connect on a best friend level with all of them, I am amazed at how people can come together for another like that. It's something we should all be able to do. It's something that our countrymen should be able to do for each other on a regular basis. It's what makes life better, when capitalism isn't the main concern, when you think of others before yourself from time to time. I mean, it isn't that hard is it? She told us before we all left that she was touched and moved and that because of our mom's club president and all of our contributions, she has had her faith restored that there are good people in the world.
That is awesome....but I wish we didn't have to be amazed and have our faith restored in people. I'd like to think people are generally good in the world. I don't know if media and bad news journalism is to blame, but I'm sick of it and I'm hoping that with this new Presidency and the whole "Hope" campaign in the media, that people are waking up to being good to each other. Will people ever tire of apathy? Probably not....but I'm thinking they will be the people of the younger mindset. I'm thinking that those younger 20-somethings that I used to be, will grow out of the idea that they are the only ones on the planet besides "smelly horrible kids" and "old geezers" that make driving a pain in the ass.
So I am thankful for my humble yet elegant rental home.
I am thankful that my family is still in tact.
I am thankful that my kids are smart and spunky and usually healthy (besides this never ending cold we seem to have)
I am thankful that I can go to Lowe's and buy $30 worth of hardware for a dresser that my mom got for me for free from my aunt, even though the screws that come with them aren't long enough and I have to pack up the kids out into the cold and go back and buy longer ones.
I am thankful that I am having a little birthday party for my one year old this Saturday even though we are out of extra cash for the month.
I am thankful that I have a Wii and World of Warcraft and all the other toys that we got so I didn't have to leave the house and spend money to keep myself entertained.
I will be more thankful though if my daughter would potty train already so I didn't have to buy anymore diapers. LOL
Guess I'm never satisfied. :P
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Holy Shit! I'm an ADULT!
This year I am turning 30.
Now from my own Generation Y observations, most people who are about to be 30 start freaking out or getting depressed about it, feeling like they will officially be "old". Or perhaps they feel they finally have to face some giant mountain of responsibility not dealt with because of the Generation X&Y Twenty-Something's Responsibility Waiver. Who knows?
But I find that this year I am surprisingly calm and content about where I am headed and about turning the not-as-big-as-they-say Three O. I'm totally cool with it. In fact, I am looking forward to it. Fuck you, 20s. Sure, my early 20s were pretty fun. Lots of sex, music, dancing, drinking and occasional hallucinogens. There were also lots of jobs, lots of moving from place to place (not in a fun way).
And let's not forget the giant Pit of Despair that was my mid-twenties, a regular emotional roller coaster of depression and desperation. Just awful. I did get married and have kids, which is a good thing, but also came with stresses, wake up calls, anxiety, and interrupted soul-searching and sacrificing (the latter being something Generation Yers aren't used to AT ALL, if you ask me).
So what made me think about all this?
Well, I'll tell you.
This morning, I was sitting in my awesome office chair that I got for xmas, and I was sipping a cup of 100% Colombian coffee and reading an article in the paper about how it was Destiny that the Eagles lost. I don't usually read the paper, I mostly get my news online, but whatever. The point is, I was totally happy having my coffee, reading the paper. I even like watching the Today show and doing crossword puzzles and Sudoku. I am officially old. And I love it.
But not old enough to be Golden - I still have enough spry in me that I would love to go white water rafting, skydiving and horseback riding in Alaska someday....which is a good thing I have that kind of energy because I'm still young enough that my Little Guy just turned a year old yesterday and now he's awake upstairs screaming to get out of his crib. Duty Calls....
Now from my own Generation Y observations, most people who are about to be 30 start freaking out or getting depressed about it, feeling like they will officially be "old". Or perhaps they feel they finally have to face some giant mountain of responsibility not dealt with because of the Generation X&Y Twenty-Something's Responsibility Waiver. Who knows?
But I find that this year I am surprisingly calm and content about where I am headed and about turning the not-as-big-as-they-say Three O. I'm totally cool with it. In fact, I am looking forward to it. Fuck you, 20s. Sure, my early 20s were pretty fun. Lots of sex, music, dancing, drinking and occasional hallucinogens. There were also lots of jobs, lots of moving from place to place (not in a fun way).
And let's not forget the giant Pit of Despair that was my mid-twenties, a regular emotional roller coaster of depression and desperation. Just awful. I did get married and have kids, which is a good thing, but also came with stresses, wake up calls, anxiety, and interrupted soul-searching and sacrificing (the latter being something Generation Yers aren't used to AT ALL, if you ask me).
So what made me think about all this?
Well, I'll tell you.
This morning, I was sitting in my awesome office chair that I got for xmas, and I was sipping a cup of 100% Colombian coffee and reading an article in the paper about how it was Destiny that the Eagles lost. I don't usually read the paper, I mostly get my news online, but whatever. The point is, I was totally happy having my coffee, reading the paper. I even like watching the Today show and doing crossword puzzles and Sudoku. I am officially old. And I love it.
But not old enough to be Golden - I still have enough spry in me that I would love to go white water rafting, skydiving and horseback riding in Alaska someday....which is a good thing I have that kind of energy because I'm still young enough that my Little Guy just turned a year old yesterday and now he's awake upstairs screaming to get out of his crib. Duty Calls....
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Outback
Well, we ended up going out to eat at Outback anyway even though we knew damn well she would probably puke.
And she did. Once in the car on the way there - a bit of water.
Then we fed her mac & cheese because she'd been begging to eat all day and she was gonna puke anyway, so why not at least let her feel satisfied for a little while.
Anyway, she puked that up in the car on the way home. Now my coat sleeve smells like puke.
Yesterday morning, we went to an open house for a restaurant school that I'm interested in - without the kids. (Thank you grandma!) We had a lovely continental breakfast made my students, and a Caribbean cooking demo from one of the professors (lol he burned the cookies while he was talking - duh - yeah you're impressing me already), and a tour of the campus. All in all, it had great decor and atmosphere, but the feel I got was that they train you to do massive amounts of cooking/baking/etc but not a big emphasis on the artistry and design of cooking...but that was just because of that professor. I don't think I'm interested in being a line cook or a giant overturn kind of hotel pastry chef - HOWEVER, that kind of knowledge is also useful in business. But really, I'm looking into the pastry chef program because I love to make tasty treats and if I were to do anything it would be having my own line of treats or a cute little bake shop specializing in tasty and beautiful creations....maybe chocolates, tarts, pies, cookies, gourmet donuts or even wedding cakes for all I know. I'd like to dive into all these yummy desserts. Plus a trip to France is included in the curriculum! Hooray! French pastries ftw!
I wouldn't be able to go this year though....kids too young.
So we shall see.
It was fun anyway.
And she did. Once in the car on the way there - a bit of water.
Then we fed her mac & cheese because she'd been begging to eat all day and she was gonna puke anyway, so why not at least let her feel satisfied for a little while.
Anyway, she puked that up in the car on the way home. Now my coat sleeve smells like puke.
Yesterday morning, we went to an open house for a restaurant school that I'm interested in - without the kids. (Thank you grandma!) We had a lovely continental breakfast made my students, and a Caribbean cooking demo from one of the professors (lol he burned the cookies while he was talking - duh - yeah you're impressing me already), and a tour of the campus. All in all, it had great decor and atmosphere, but the feel I got was that they train you to do massive amounts of cooking/baking/etc but not a big emphasis on the artistry and design of cooking...but that was just because of that professor. I don't think I'm interested in being a line cook or a giant overturn kind of hotel pastry chef - HOWEVER, that kind of knowledge is also useful in business. But really, I'm looking into the pastry chef program because I love to make tasty treats and if I were to do anything it would be having my own line of treats or a cute little bake shop specializing in tasty and beautiful creations....maybe chocolates, tarts, pies, cookies, gourmet donuts or even wedding cakes for all I know. I'd like to dive into all these yummy desserts. Plus a trip to France is included in the curriculum! Hooray! French pastries ftw!
I wouldn't be able to go this year though....kids too young.
So we shall see.
It was fun anyway.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Sigh....Gross.
Well, now today my toddler is the one puking all over the place: me, the floor, the couch, whatever. It started in the middle of the fucking night, so only 3 hours of sleep it seems like, and a few more times this morning. I had to put her to bed at noon because I couldn't let her have food or drink.
She's up now having some pedialyte in small doses and I'm hoping they stay down.
Her brother had the same shit a couple of days ago and it only lasted a night and a half day. I'm hoping it's over now. We shall see.
We were supposed to go out to have a lovely Outback dinner tonight, but I don't think taking her out of the house is an option tonight. It's so damn bitterly cold anyway.
DAMN!
We got pwned.
She's up now having some pedialyte in small doses and I'm hoping they stay down.
Her brother had the same shit a couple of days ago and it only lasted a night and a half day. I'm hoping it's over now. We shall see.
We were supposed to go out to have a lovely Outback dinner tonight, but I don't think taking her out of the house is an option tonight. It's so damn bitterly cold anyway.
DAMN!
We got pwned.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Holy Lemonade Stand Awards, Batman!
Hey!
I just noticed I got some awards!
I never got one before!
Thanks Sheri!
I LOVE the lemonade one, obviously...lol
Do I really have to name 10 blogs to show my gratitude?
Meh...I'll name one for each award to show effort, but I'm a jerk sometimes so I won't be naming all required 10 - besides, I don't even read 10 blogs LOL
So here is my Cold Lemonade Award Show.......
And the Lemonade award goes to:
CAT and her Zipbag of Bones blog for showing that when life gives her lemons, she can fucking smash those bitches up and serve you up a grade A glass of lemonade. You rock.
And the Butterfly Award goes to:
CHURCHPUNKMOM and her Embellished Truth and Polite Fiction blog because she would totally appreciate the grammatical errors in this award and because I think she's a cool chick who aspires to be a writer like I do. Maybe we can motivate each other.
And the Beautiful Award goes to:
BAFFLEDSTEREO and her Baffled Stereo blog because although she may be physically beautiful (she couldn't possibly need to hear about it ever again, could she?) but she's insanely colorful on the inside and also has a cat named Toshi like the one at my mom's. You're nuts and you look and smell like cupcakes. <3
Alrighty well, kids have been sick, cleaned up baby projectile vomit a number of times this morning, and now things are settling down. Little Guy ate chicken soup and drank Pedialyte in the afternoon, took a nap, kept it down, woke up, ate kielbasa and cheesy new potatoes for dinner so I guess he's good to go. I'm avoiding milk for now and giving watered down Pedialyte just to make sure he's got his electrolytes. I hope they get better before the big 1 year birthday party the weekend after next!
I just noticed I got some awards!
I never got one before!
Thanks Sheri!
I LOVE the lemonade one, obviously...lol
Do I really have to name 10 blogs to show my gratitude?
Meh...I'll name one for each award to show effort, but I'm a jerk sometimes so I won't be naming all required 10 - besides, I don't even read 10 blogs LOL
So here is my Cold Lemonade Award Show.......
And the Lemonade award goes to:
CAT and her Zipbag of Bones blog for showing that when life gives her lemons, she can fucking smash those bitches up and serve you up a grade A glass of lemonade. You rock.
And the Butterfly Award goes to:
CHURCHPUNKMOM and her Embellished Truth and Polite Fiction blog because she would totally appreciate the grammatical errors in this award and because I think she's a cool chick who aspires to be a writer like I do. Maybe we can motivate each other.
And the Beautiful Award goes to:
BAFFLEDSTEREO and her Baffled Stereo blog because although she may be physically beautiful (she couldn't possibly need to hear about it ever again, could she?) but she's insanely colorful on the inside and also has a cat named Toshi like the one at my mom's. You're nuts and you look and smell like cupcakes. <3
Alrighty well, kids have been sick, cleaned up baby projectile vomit a number of times this morning, and now things are settling down. Little Guy ate chicken soup and drank Pedialyte in the afternoon, took a nap, kept it down, woke up, ate kielbasa and cheesy new potatoes for dinner so I guess he's good to go. I'm avoiding milk for now and giving watered down Pedialyte just to make sure he's got his electrolytes. I hope they get better before the big 1 year birthday party the weekend after next!
Monday, January 12, 2009
I am Cross-eyed
Yeah I've been playing too much WoW.
I can't even look at this computer screen without going cross-eyed.
I don't even have anything to write about really.
Kids are sick.
I am addicted to an RPG and I made some awesome chicken soup today.
And now I'm tired and I need to go to bed.
Goodnight!
I can't even look at this computer screen without going cross-eyed.
I don't even have anything to write about really.
Kids are sick.
I am addicted to an RPG and I made some awesome chicken soup today.
And now I'm tired and I need to go to bed.
Goodnight!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Hot & Chocolaty
The world is a funny place sometimes.
Actually, what I really mean to say is sometimes the mind is a funny world.
All I can think about lately is something strong, hot, and chocolaty.
A well-aged concoction, melted and molded into a decadent sculpture, tied up in a rich package for me to open up and smell, taste, lick, suck on, bite into....devour.....licking my fingers ever so slowly, savoring, to the last drop until all of my senses are filled with chocolaty pleasures. A chocolate so potent and delicious that one bite could send me into convulsions of sheer forbidden arousal, forcing me to succumb to the next injection of bittersweet luxury. The raw intensity of it sending me reeling, forcing a twisted velvety moan to escape my lips and my eyes to roll back into my head. Erotic. Sensual. Satisfying. Give it to me now.
It's amazing what words come to mind when your mind is obsessively lost in one particular subject or another. Something so simple, something that only lasts for a few moments can suddenly turn into this massive tidal wave of desire - it's almost unimaginable how it happens. One minute you're watching a movie, the next minute a word, a picture, a smell or some other catalyst whisk you away to another place, with an idea, a thought you came up with out of the blue that makes your mind want to take over your body, compels it to react, compels you to decide that you are going to fill a whim, a want, a desire....
And now, to make myself some hot chocolate.
Actually, what I really mean to say is sometimes the mind is a funny world.
All I can think about lately is something strong, hot, and chocolaty.
A well-aged concoction, melted and molded into a decadent sculpture, tied up in a rich package for me to open up and smell, taste, lick, suck on, bite into....devour.....licking my fingers ever so slowly, savoring, to the last drop until all of my senses are filled with chocolaty pleasures. A chocolate so potent and delicious that one bite could send me into convulsions of sheer forbidden arousal, forcing me to succumb to the next injection of bittersweet luxury. The raw intensity of it sending me reeling, forcing a twisted velvety moan to escape my lips and my eyes to roll back into my head. Erotic. Sensual. Satisfying. Give it to me now.
It's amazing what words come to mind when your mind is obsessively lost in one particular subject or another. Something so simple, something that only lasts for a few moments can suddenly turn into this massive tidal wave of desire - it's almost unimaginable how it happens. One minute you're watching a movie, the next minute a word, a picture, a smell or some other catalyst whisk you away to another place, with an idea, a thought you came up with out of the blue that makes your mind want to take over your body, compels it to react, compels you to decide that you are going to fill a whim, a want, a desire....
And now, to make myself some hot chocolate.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Sing A Song
Here is a song I did back up vocals for. Enjoy.
Pablo, Where Are You? - President
I just found it for sale on Amazon UK - neat!
Pablo, Where Are You? - President
I just found it for sale on Amazon UK - neat!
Thursday, January 01, 2009
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
I really wanted to think of a more original title, but I am all riled up at the moment, so I'll just say I had a freaking awesome new year's eve at home.
We ate like kings - Al made the most delicious pan-seared/broiled strip steaks with perfect lobster tails. We had 2 of his brothers over and we drank plenty of Hefe-Weissen and cracked a bottle of extra dry champagne. We smoked a non-cigarette, played Wii Fit, played old old stupid emulated video games like Home Alone on the computer and laughed our asses off. We woke up the kids several times haha.
We ended the long night with a movie: Ninja Scroll, and went to bed around 5:45am.
The kids were up at 8:30am. Thanks Al for letting me go back to sleep til 1pm. Now it's his turn though. Got one kid for a nap, the other is doing an impression of the Tazmanian Devil in her room. Was hoping she'd fall asleep too haha.
HAPPY NEW YEAR! :)
We ate like kings - Al made the most delicious pan-seared/broiled strip steaks with perfect lobster tails. We had 2 of his brothers over and we drank plenty of Hefe-Weissen and cracked a bottle of extra dry champagne. We smoked a non-cigarette, played Wii Fit, played old old stupid emulated video games like Home Alone on the computer and laughed our asses off. We woke up the kids several times haha.
We ended the long night with a movie: Ninja Scroll, and went to bed around 5:45am.
The kids were up at 8:30am. Thanks Al for letting me go back to sleep til 1pm. Now it's his turn though. Got one kid for a nap, the other is doing an impression of the Tazmanian Devil in her room. Was hoping she'd fall asleep too haha.
HAPPY NEW YEAR! :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)