Author of the Queen City Boys books

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I should have gone to bed 20 minutes ago.  I am unreasonably exhausted, cranky and at loose ends.  Instead I am awake, watching Onegin, a movie about which I know nothing, which is perhaps too boring for this hour in my life. All it has served to do so far is make me wish that I was lying on pillow in a row boat in a little lake on my own huge estate, reading a book on a perfect summer day.  So really it isn’t improving my mood at all.

I can’t decide if I should eat another cookie, eat the rest of the guacamole, or perhaps make some real food.  Or just have a glass of wine. I should be in bed, under the fluffy fall covers, reading and looking forward only to the impending morning sounds of migrating birds.

Amusingly the recent top searches that have brought people to this blog are:

  • my head hurts i’m weak
  • feel weak and head hurts
  • come out of the s&m closet
  • overwhelmed and unable to prioritize on
  • cops in dreams
  • what does whopperjaw mean
  • tom waits paper doll
  • the land of the sneezes
  • crackerjack kinda guy

Very funny.  I’m gonna go out on a limb and pathetically, whinily say there is no crackerjack kind of guy. If there was I’d surely have found him by now.

Hmmm.  Cookies? Wine? Get off my ass, put the computer down and go read in bed?  I should take my lavender kiwi scented candle with me.  It smells lovely.  Maybe it can cure my foul mood and give me dreams of lovelier things.

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old busted hotness

So I was telling my mom about the gas ‘shortage’ in Nashberg last night and she said, given the current political climate and the economy that we can expect to see things like this increasing all over the country. She said during the 70s that there was a lot hoarding and similar weirdness in relation to the economy. Meaningless, pointless hoarding or more sinister hoarding (like gas) that made things worse for everyone rather than helping anything. Given the fact that people are much more susceptible to frenzies over incomplete/inaccurate media reports, I’m sure she’s right.

My brain has been muddling over this for hours. Mostly I think who gets fucked here is the people already doing right. Great if you live in a big coastal city and have good public transportation. But what if you live in mid-sized town, buy local and support local businesses? What happens when there really is a gas crisis? Nothing can be trucked in, people freak and suddenly no one can get anything because there isn’t enough local food to sustain the area?

(So I started writing this post, then I got totally distracted by Men in Black on TV. Now I am tired and I don’t care to finish my thoughts.)

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Let’s put that guitar down and go **** Matt Damon

I don’t feel well.  I’ve been sick on and off since Friday morning. I thought maybe food poisoning (combined with hangover) but now upon reflection, I think it’s actually been a mild, multi-day adventure in vertigo. This sucks, but on the other hand, it is the mildest the vertigo attacks have ever been, so that’s kind of good.

I know, I know.  I keep saying I’m swearing off political blogs.  And talking here is, for the most part, preaching to th choir, and still, well, I just can’t stop myself: This is your nation on white privilege. Yes, these are, IMO, sensible, not really inflammatory arguments.  These are things we should be talking about instead of Palin’s family.  However who would we make these arguments to anyway?  It’s not like the people who need to understand this stuff would ever listen.

Watching Signs first thing in the morning will probably set the tone for my day to be even more weird than usual.

Could I love Matt Damon any more?  It seems almost impossible.

I have a small, sensible, reasonable to-do list for today.  I should get on it.

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so much time, so much not getting done

This is a post I started on Saturday and got so scattered that I never finished it:

I’m going to go out on a limb and say I have PMS, since this just made me cry (watch the video, don’t skip it).

I am very scattered today. I keep thinking, “Oh I need to do X,” and then I’m go make a cup of coffee and entirely forget what X is. So I ‘ll start to do Y and think of something else in the middle of it, leave it and start thinking about X again, with the intention to write it down, but get distracted by Z and start the whole process over again. UGH. Seriously, it is hard to be me sometimes.

Now it’s Monday and I am still scattered as I was two days ago. Whopperjaw came through town yesterday. I made Thai curry, both green and red, yum yum yum. And then we took Ladybug to See Batman on the Imax screen. YAY BATMAN. I have complaints about it, but they are so minor and bizarre that I expect anyone listening to my complaints would just roll their eyes at me. I did totally love it.

This morning Whopperjaw and I were having breakfast in this little diner in my neighborhood, and the cashier, an older gentleman, was asking me all about my tattoos. Finally, done, he turned to Whopperjaw and said, “You got your hands full with this one.” WJ snickered, and all the way to the car he nattered on about how it so nice to have someone else recognized the trials of his life, having his hands full with me. Hmmm, I am perhaps not relaying this as amusing as it really was.

Okay, off to the craft store. I got things to do today and I have to start somewhere!

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Happy Birthday, America.

All in all a good long weekend.  Whopperjaw came up to play.  We had a nice dinner with Ladybug and Miss Sparkle on Thursday night and then drank WAY too much wine.  We shopped and hung out on Friday, made tons and tons of Middle Eastern food, ate with our new neighbors (two fabulous gay boys), went and watched the fireworks and generally just chilled.  Saturday we saw Hancock (ignore the reviews, it was very entertaining and I’m not just saying that because of my ridiculous love for Will Smith), then went to the park, cooked more, ate more and chilled more.  Today was similar. So basically, Whopperjaw=food, chillin’ and relaxing.  Can’t really go wrong with that.

Now Ladybug and I are finally watching the season finale of Supernatural, and I’m sitting around feeling sorry for myself because I’m not getting the work done I need to (I just can’t find the damn answers I need) and ’cause Whopperjaw is back in Memphis and things seem a little less, well, chill than when he’s here.

The next week is work work work and hopefully finishing everything before my sister gets here for 10 days.

Everyone else have a good fourth? Anything fun?

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like being beaten across the back by a redwood tree

Sure there’s perks to being a female.  We got boobs, cute toes, good hips and you know, just girlness, to make us awesome. But what part of evolution (or even creation) thought that bleeding once a month would be beneficial. I get it, it’s necessary for reproduction, but even then, could we just bleed? I mean, does it have to come with all the associated pain and other bullshit?

For the last hour or two I’ve had to periodically stop whatever I am doing just because the pain is so fucking bad I can’t even read or think or do anything but watch Wild Wild West (which, incidentally, is a terrible, awful movie).

It’s storming outside, which is appropriate given how my body currently feels.

I watched Juno this morning and was much less impressed than I expected to be.  I liked all the characters, and it had some great lines, but it wasn’t really plotted and there was no development arc for anyone.  Enjoyable, but sort of forgettable.  Like a great pop  song or bad chinese food, good at the time, gone from memory minutes later it happens.

I was going to do a bunch of stuff today.  I really need to, but I’m now so whiny and pathetic that I might just lie on the couch for the rest of the day and read. Or watch Life on Mars. Or eat all the mint Three Musketeers I have in the freezer. I once said I’d probably marry the first guy to send me flowers.  I’d be happier with a guy who would rub my lower back when I feel like this (plus I’ve given up on the idea that there are guys out there who actually send girls flowers).  Seriously, it hurts so bad, I might burst into tears at any moment.

Well, it’s raining so hard right now that I don’t have to feel bad about not washing my car.  I’d go stand on the porch and enjoy the rain, but have I mentioned that I have cramps which I may actually die from?  So bad, that I can’t even properly enjoy a thunderstorm.  BOO!