to penis envy... or not to penis envy?

vacation was a low key masterpiece. somehow, in spite of the mullets and pegged jeans, northern Michigan is ah-maze-ing. 4 days felt like a week. it was just what we both needed. boats, wave runners, hammock, quads. and a golf cart. you know, to get from the cabin to the lake...because, let's face it, on vacation i just shouldn't have to walk the 100 yards on the lush grass. i won't bore you with the blissful nothingness that went on, but rest assured i didn't break out this computer, and cell phone signal is scarce. it's alpena... they're still catching up. they have CB's. cory did have an incident with the jet ski and some land. and a tree. too much watching of "nitro circus" played a part in this, I'm certain.

getting back into routine life.. (up north really does take you out of the loop... even for a few days) i was stopped by a post from a dear friend of mine from high school..one of those guys that you should have known better, because he was an "old soul" in his teenage years. one of those guys who i am privileged (honestly)to know now. i thank you for this eye opener and give a half-assed apology for stealing it from you.















pay attention kids.... 1:08.


"You think my life turned out the way I wanted because I live in this house? You think every time I look in the mirror I shout 'Gee I'm glad I'm me and not some 19-year-old billionaire rockstar with the body of an athlete and a 24-hour erection!' No I don't! So just excuse the shit out of me!"


i now steal (er... borrow. with correct bibliography given) the rest of mr. old soul high school..let's call him, uh, "James"... (i promise this is going somewhere)
delicious diatribe. "Am I a soulless shell of a man because I've accepted that most of my hopes and ambitions won't come about and I look forward to a football game, a beer, and a clean home in a safe neighborhood? That's the stability that allows me to directly and indirectly support literally hundreds of people, many of whom who don't have the guts to be responsible for themselves or take on the obligations I have.
I've taken my chances, made my gambles, screwed up royally on more than one occasion, and things haven't turned out as I hoped. I simply haven't got the credit lines to go ba...ck and try it all again. But I don't blame anyone, I'm paying off my debts, and I enjoy what little I've earned without obsessing over what I don't have.
Some people have the luxury of freaking out or weeping over being unfulfilled or misunderstood. So long as they're attractive and can be labeled "sensitive" or "passionate", they get a revolving door free pass at that shit. But when you're the stable, hardworking grown-up providing mental and physical stability, one slip up is an unforgivable crime.
A video post on Facebook with a short tirade is all the freaking out I'm allowed."

mad props and a heartfelt 'well played, sir. well played" in effect to "James". see? old soul then... genius now. i wish i woulda thought of something profound. but that's not really my calling. i'd rather be making fun of the masses for being spoonfed dumb asses with my razor sharp tongue. that's not true. i'd rather make fun of them like THIS... while wearing a smoking jacket, maribu heels, and sipping an 18 year old scotch. but you get me -probably wearing a tigers t-shirt, tore up levis, and drinking jack daniels. trust.

so goes my attention deficit-ed mind. look, i make up words. (read my first disclosure post) the above said tigers t, levis, and jack ISN'T an exaggeration. if you know me AT ALL, you're not shocked. and i appreciate you loving me for that (in spite of ? i digress) . here's the problem. i don't make a very good girl. there are a few exceptions here, but all in all.. i really am a guy inside. this isn't a gender thing, and it's NOT A FREUD thing. i am 100% female... it's pretty obvious. but my logic is mostly male. i'm not *exactly* a tomboy... i get my hair done and eyebrows waxed, i like make up and pedicures, and i have a thing for pink. like my pink adidas, and my pink converse, and my pink vans. do you see where this is going? and i really like purses. but i'd rather be playing softball, and i'd rather be outside and dirty. and i'd really rather be shooting something and reloading ammo. i hate watching football, i'd rather play. i've never golfed, my boobs get in the way. i'd rather talk your ear off about baseball, as opposed to you watching me in the fit of world series meltdown that ive done for the last 13 years. i'd rather drink whiskey than stupid skinny martinis or vodka and cranberry. i'd rather smoke a cigar with my whiskey, than some dumb 120 suckerstick cigarette. i'm slightly jealous of the girly girls. who always look like they just walked out of the salon and got a full body make over. never a hair in their eye, or mascara smeared ala Tammy Faye Baker look that i seemed to have perfected. i don't have the patience, i don't have the time, i won't stop to ask for directions, i'll change my own oil in the garage how dare you for thinking i cant.



it's me. i'm ok with it. it's fun. i laugh a lot. i'm loved for WHO i am. and i guess that's all that matters.

ps. remember earlier when i promised that i was going somewhere? it made sense in my mind. sorry to keep you waiting for the fireworks.

what's in the box?

Remember in the movie "Se7en" when a divine, angsty, pre-angelina haggard brad pitt begged for morgan freeman to tell him "what's in the box???!!! WHAT'S IN THE BOX???" only to be confronted with (i'd give you a spoiler warning, but really... it's been 13 years) his wife's head. i should have learned to not question why there has been a rather large box in the garage for the last week.

I asked what it was on monday and was told it was a surprise. that he was "just waiting to figure out what to do with it". wrong answer. but, being the trustworthy wife that i am... i didn't open the box. not even a shake. until tonight.

my question was met with "It's a dog casket". we don't have a dog. "it was $20 on ebay" we don't have a dog. "I was trying to be thoughtful" we don't have a dog.

I'm outta words. that's a big deal. I appreciate his attempt... and it IS funny. but i have NO clue what to do with it ( i mean, i know what to do with it but i can't just leave it in the living room.)


I can't put it back on ebay, because... come on, who would buy a dog casket?

And in my spare time...

The last week has been brutal. too much work, not enough (if any) air conditioning, and not enough time. because, lets face it, there's *always* enough time. however, during the chaos, i've probably done more serious thinking. serious ending that ended up at a toga party. if that's the end to a week when you've worried about everything and everyone, i've got my sheets ready for next week.

there seems to be some correlation between the temp hitting an unbearable 9o degrees and the birth of babies. 4 of my friends birthed out the little bundles of screaming joy on the same day. Nice work, ladies... i probably would have taken drastic measures, too, just to be in a place with air conditioning.

i've done too much thinking about friendships. i can mostly say this is because one of my dearest friends is moving to utah in the next couple weeks. i'm not going to front and be all tough about her going... because i can't be. Nancy means the world to me... she's one of those (few) people who is incredibly real, changes your life, and is going to RUIN the mormon view of a WASP. these are only a few reasons why she rocks. utah is lucky to have her, i'm incredibly lucky to have had years with her.


let's be honest here. i have plenty of acquaintances, and most of them i would really like to spend more time with and pick their brains.

But as for friendships that have weathered the storms, had the knock- down-drag-outs, the stories that never get old when told, the laughs, the tears, the security... well, i have a smattering of those. those are the ones that bring laughter into life, that make the chaos disappear, and those that surround you when you need them. I was with a very good group last night. Some i know well, some i'm in the process of knowing better. i adore them all... only a few people understand how to quote movies at the right time, how to properly make fun of leopard print togas, and how to take being collectively called "a group of the coolest assholes" by a total stranger. thank you all for a truly memorable night.


i'm getting too serious. i've also been on a crappy movie kick. i'm glad you can't see my netflix queue to judge me more that you already do.... but one helpful hint... stay far far far away from "My Bloody Valentine". wow.





ps....


i suppose watching "Last Tango in Paris" was a little to much for the man of the house... he couldn't get past the subtitles to appreciate th... well, just see the movie . (If you haven't seen this.. you need to. AFTER the kids have gone to bed. you should probably lock them in, to avoid any "talk" that you're not ready for. EVER)

uh..... i don't know what to do here.

So here I am .... in all my poor punctuation glory. not knowing *why* i'm doing this, only compelled to write for an unknown reason. i'm not going to use this to vent about work, or the wastes of carbon that i serve runny eggs to. if i do, it'll be to use the above said waste of carbon in story pertaining to my point. which could be a first, since i rarely have one worth mentioning. since you're willing reading this, i suppose it's only fair that i (hereby known as THE WRITER) should lay down a few ground rules for you (hereby known as THE READER)

* THE READER will disregard THE WRITERS lack of punctuation, grammatical inconsistencies (see what i did there?), and all around bad forum

*THE READER will also understand that THE WRITER does have some (although not many) people that will be used under an alias. this alias is mostly used to protect said WRITER from unemployment, slander/libel, body and property harm.

*THE WRITER uses the right to display any range of emotion, language, belief, opinion, and any other range that classifies THE WRITER of being classified as human.

that being said... finally

*if THE WRITER knows, works, cohabitates, feeds, or is related to (any of the former being in past, present, or future sense) THE READER, THE READER assumes responsibility to star in, co-star in, or be privy to any future posts.