Have you ever got that sinking feeling. Like you found a whole in the hardwood floor and are stuck between the first and second floor. Shelley Long and Tom Hanks in The Money Pit. You are oh - so - vulnerable and can’t do anything about it. There you are slaving away workin for da man, sitting at your desk with a mountain of work and a list of people to call back. Your phone is ringing, engineers are coming in your office asking questions about your accounts. Stage left your boss walks in looking past everything else and tells you to write a SOF and drive 2 hours to visit a client. 3 minutes later your best friend calls you crying. It’s all to much.
I get to walk away at 5:00 p.m. - Lately it’s been more like 6 or 7:00 which is fine as the end is near. The time where I get back from the gym, grab my book, turn off my phone, and lay on my bed - it’s quiet. There is nothing. Almost done with old Blondie, soon no one. No one there to bother me, no one there calling my name asking me to come and chase the monsters away. No one there yelling because their brother or sister is hitting them. Silence. Alone. Nothing. Yes it’s lonely. But comfortable.
Yesterday after gorging ourselves on wine and Easter dinner we sat at the table discussing the Shivo case, kids birthdays, holidays, kids, kids, and kids. I was the only single one there. The others were family and close personal friends whom discussed times when they had reached the end. The kids were crying, yelling, screaming, they had been acting up for weeks and there was no end in sight. At these times, they look at their children thinking how something with such a wretched temper could come from me. Day dreams of late night clubbing and vacations in Tahiti dance in their mind. Suddenly two of the boys run inside out of breath from playing PIG and give their mom a big hug. All is forgotten as the love spreads throughout the room. Later that night, they pack their belongings, say goodbye and head home together.
So here I sit, in peace and quiet, my own private Idaho - not really. Where is that crazy cat, Joe? Joe - Joe? Hey baby, it’s 11:11 did you make a wish?
She’s with the Angels now smiling down on Jason and Keri –
On my way home yesterday a homeless man was holding a sign that said, “Homeless Republican” I laughed. The base of the Republican Party is personal accountability and govt. hands off. The Republican Party platform would leave me to believe, if one is homeless they should try- try - and try again to get a job and not beg for money. A true Right Winged Conservative would never give the “Homeless Republican” hand outs. However, a wave of change has washed over the Republican Party as “compassionate conservatives” emerge. President Bush defines this term as, “It is compassionate to actively help our fellow citizens in need. It is conservative to insist on responsibility and results.”
I am registered as an Independent but lean Republican. I gave the guy two bucks.
yup.
This girl’s gotta lean to clean up her mouth…and keyboard, I guess.
Apparently, profanity counts as “spamlike” material. Our spam filter keeps censoring my outgoing emails. I already know I need to filter my mouth , especially after a couple of cocktails.
I’ve handled one of four man-options. An ex issue is being born, and I’ll need to deal with -that- over the weekend for sure.
Why can’t I own more than one “pair of shoes?” I am fully able to maintain them with loyalty, interest and respect. At least I think I could. If only they could coexist!
Sigh. I just hate having to choose.
Short and sweet b/c I don’t really have time to blog today, as you can tell. I don’t feel any pity for Barry Bonds at all. He has just returned from having surgery on his knees. Yeah – smart move buddy – let’s wait until right before the season openers to have surgery and you just HAPPEN to be in the middle of a steroid controversy. He said to the media while leaning on his crutch, “Make sure you get a picture of my son so you can see how much you (the media) have hurt my family.” Where is this kid’s agent? Surely child labor laws of some applet court have addressed this issue previously. Bonds said he is drained and is trying to make us believe he is a dedicated family man and states, “I am tired of my kids crying.” Then why is he using them for his better gain? Heck even Jack-o has the sense to drape sheets over his kids or make them wear funny masks. Were you trying to prove that your testicles hadn’t shrunk b/c of the steroids and you were fertile? Okay – we get it – just leave the kids out of it.
Some people don’t understand it; others envy it, and some just scoff and think I am foolish. So be it – the world will continue to revolve and stay balanced on its axis.
My office mates have gone out to lunch with out me a few times. Granted the days they have done this I have been running around the office on the phone, sending emails, blogging, etc. giving them that look like I am in the tryouts for the office Olympics award of the year. Upon their return, I have to give them a hard time and pretend I am hurt for mere amusement. We volley back and forth with sarcastic remarks but the conversation always ends in, “You’re a Vegetarian.”
I am different – I don’t have a disease. I haven’t ate meat since I was 6 years old. I am not a member of PETA and could care less if the guy I am with wants to have a steak for dinner. I’ll slice the steak and pick out the one with the best marbling. When people find out I am a vegetarian they gasp like I have just told them I cleaned out my closet and found Bin Laden. What is this world coming to – a vegetarian in Texas?
Do Indians say Holy Cow as an expression?
It’s almost official - the countdown has begun. I am edging closer to sanity as my days with old blondie are almost over. Move out day is April 2nd - YIPEEE!!!!
He stood there on the plywood floor scanning the crowd, amused by the colors and pulsating enthusiasm of the crowd. He let the spectacle carry on a minute to long, knowing he would be reprimanded and called into the back office. The whistle blew, then the horn. Time to make his move, his palms sweat as he felt the flex of the gun in his hands searching for his target. Then, he found his victims. They were sitting together, distracted and disillusioned by their surroundings. The children were bouncing up and down staring starry eyed at the cotton candy trey. Mom was staring off in space planning her next hair style while Dad casually committed to memory the fetching brunette walking past them. He shifted his vehicle into gear and felt the electromotive force beneath him as he lunged toward his target. He closed in on them, gripped the gun, and pulled the trigger. He shot them. They were under a COB of silly string. He stood there with the perma grin on his mask emptying all the string in the gun. The children burst out laughing while Mom and Dad caught each others eyes. After the gun was emptied, he chuckled to himself then rode away. Dad took the string and wrapped it around his daughters head while she threw it on her little brother. Mom was busy watching the scene and committing it to memory while trying to clean her Brooks Brothers shirt. After the laughter and humor of the situation dyed down. Mom and Dad looked at each other stretching across the children and kissed.
I witnessed Clutch (Rockets mascot) create the scene last night at the Rockets Game (WE WON). I was a minimum of 50 ft. from the family and shared this memory with them. I have no doubt they will remember this for the rest of their lives. They have no idea, I shared it with them. I feel a little guilty for prying, almost like reading someone’s blog. But we put it out there for conversations sake. To share memories, to remember the pivotal times in our lives and the inconsequential ones.
I have a memory from a basketball game when I was just a kid attending a Harlem Globetrotters game. Curly picked me - ME - out of the crowd and twirled a basketball on my finger. I remember it, so do my mom and dad.
Happy St. Patricks Day!
That’s Just TodayLast night, I was on top of the world. I thought to myself: I’m exactly the person I wanted to be when I was growing up. I am a sexy, single girl with a Sex and the City lifestyle (minus all the shoes, llingerie, and money. But, I do have girlfriends who have time to brunch with me).
