I Love To Go A-Wandering

I was driving southbound on the 5 freeway in Los Angeles yesterday evening at around six p.m. This is crazy, you say? Of course it is. And I make this 450 mile trip at least twice a month! As I drove I watched the people around me. I saw a car going the other direction in which one man (passenger) was laughing uncontrollably and talking on a cell phone. The other man (driver) was completely stoic and looking straight at the road ahead. I thought, Hmm… those two men are having entirely different experiences here in the traffic today. I resisted the sudden urge to yell at the man driving, “Sucks to be you!”

As I drove, and watched everyone get all fucked up and frustrated because they can’t seem to get two or three cars further up in line, I began to wonder. Why is it that we get so angry when we’re stuck in traffic? Why, as two bloggers have recently pointed out, is a double drive-thru conducive to stabbings?

I was perfectly happy in my car, moving at a snail’s pace. But why? Well, I had great music on the stereo. I was comfortable. It was hotter than hell out there, but I had my A/C on. I had a full tank of gas. Now, don’t get me wrong! I was in a hurry, just like everyone else! I very much wanted to get where I was going! After all, I was gonna get laid! This is important to me! But I was okay right where I was, too.

So is that it? Are we all in a hurry to be anywhere but here? Can we not enjoy where we are any more? We seem to have never outgrown that impatient childish question, “Are we there yet?”

I’ve been a lot of places. Which means I’ve been on my way to a lot of places! My father taught me very early on that you should never wait for the merriment to begin when you get to your destination. You should start the fun when you leave the house. That too, is part of the pleasure. We have all read the quips about how it’s the journey that matters, not the destination. And we all know this is really a lie. If I’m getting all dressed up to go to a big event for which I purchased tickets months ago, I’m pretty sure that when I remember the evening, it won’t be the journey that stands out. But the journey can certainly be a part of the lovely, exciting or quirky story.

So here is my conclusion. I say we should just enjoy ourselves right where we are. Because we certainly can’t enjoy ourselves right where we are not! I’m tired of being in a hurry to get where I’m not. Over There is usually overrated anyway.

When Bloggers Collide

OMG! BFF! Don't ya love meeting your blogger friends? I met up last weekend with Vixen, of the Bad Girls Guide. This was our second meeting. She drove out to my town this time and we had a helluva time. It just makes me sad that EVERYONE couldn't be there.
Our Miss Jenn of Holland read Vixen's post and said, "Ooooooooooooo, shoes!" So I took a picture of the shoes I was wearing and here you go! Feet up on the desk and everything!

Vix calls me a shoe whore. I do have a fair amount of GORGEOUS shoes. But only because I have a gracious friend who loves to make me pretty. She's always been that way, even in high school. It's nice when you have female friends who are not in competition with you. I think women should love seeing one another shine.

When Our Miss Bad Girl showed up on Sunday, she was shining! She's a beautiful woman and was dressed in one of the most beautiful dresses I've ever seen. It was handcrafted in Nigeria and the bright blue and red was stunning. We drove around town a bit until we found a lovely little Indian restaurant. We spent hours there talking about very real life. My favorite subject.

So, when it comes to meeting our fellow blog-writers, I'd recommend Vixen very highly. A true pleasure of a meeting. You can visit her blog to see her take on the visit!

And I expect to see all of you at her blog and commenting quite frequently from now on! I'll be watching you!

No Mo' Pretty Teri ~ Mos' Def'

There’s something to be said for passion. I used to say that a lot. Mostly when Brady was three years old and I would be out in the front yard, talking with a neighbor. He would stop his playing and run up at me full force to hug me around the legs, nearly knocking me over! That was a passionate boy. He’s still that way. I had to stop the running-at-me-to-hug-me thing (since I knew he was bound to be over six feet tall), but he does it with his girlfriend (who is about five foot one and weighs about 97 pounds, soaking wet). She can take it, though. She’s a tough cookie. When their baby, Lexi, was born a month premature, the nurses would have her under the warm light and be beating her back with a little rubber pad to make sure her lungs were working. I would watch them doing this seemingly harsh thing to that baby who weighed just over four and half pounds and think, “Well, I guess it’s making her strong. Just like a baby giraffe.” Kick-kick-kick. “Get up! Get up and run! Before the lions get you!”

Brady also used to be behind me in the car, in his car seat, when he was less than a year old. He would be drinking his bottle and when it was empty, he would just THROW it. Not at anything specific, he just threw it. But I developed the habit of cringing and covering my head protectively as soon as I heard that end-of-the-bottle sound. At one point, I realized this was INSANE! What was I doing? I was frightened of an infant?? I decided to teach him to control this impulse.

Now, what do we do with our passionate impulses? Did anyone teach us to control them? I think it’s great to feel strongly about the things we believe in. But it’s a double-edge sword. We feel passionately excited about the positive things, and we are really really really really pissed off about the negative things that happen with the things we love. The scale is all over the place.

Let’s talk about the holocaust. Yep. People should have been outraged and reacted strongly to that. There should have been such an outcry from humankind that the earth shook. I think just about everyone agrees with this. People were dying and it was wrong. But what about abortion? War? Global warming? Should we be marching about grabbing people by the shoulders and shaking them saying, “WHY aren’t you doing anything about this??” We could say people are dying. We could say people will be dying.

I previously posted a comment by a reader who stated that (yeah I know I said we were going to be done with this, but we’re not!) when Natalie Maines made her statement about the Prez, she brought about confusion in the world about our country and caused the deaths of Americans. What? Fuckin’ hell.

Abortion doctors have been killed in the name of God to save lives. People have been burned at the stake, in the name of God again, in order to save souls. Soldiers are dying daily, in the name of ~ oh probably God again ~ in order to preserve life and freedom. Sheryl Crow jabs and grabs important people, in the name of um… I dunno… (starts with a Go__ … Al Gore? Hehehe) in order to save the earth.

So anyway, misplaced passions. How do we know when ours are defined thus? Well we really never do. We only know when others have gone wrong with theirs. Our own, we treat very delicately because our own precious egos are wrapped in them.

Just Bein' Pretty (And Dirty)

Yes, it's a terrible thing when a girl like me starts thinking. In fact, it should be against the law. So enough of that!

I'm sitting in bed eating crackers. I have a feeling I will regret it. No matter how careful you are SOME crumbs get under those god damned covers! You could go around and seal them tight enough to bounce a coin off of them. As soon as you sit on top with a handful of crackers, the crumbs start crawling off the plate and searching for the smallest little opening to sneak through. Then, when sleeping that night, your entire bed could be crumb free ~ but if you roll over onto one or two of those microscopic things that sneaked in, it will suddenly be impossible to sleep! The princess and the pea? Pah! The queen and the crumb, I tell ya! ONE little crumb can make for a sleepless night! And just brushing the sheets off won't do. Even undoing the bed and shaking every article before making the bed doesn't work, either. They have GOT to be washed all over again. It's the only remedy.

So, why then, am I eating crackers in bed? I think I mentioned that my bed is the only piece of furniture in the house, because I insisted on spending a ridiculous amount of money on it.

The floor then? Are you kidding? I only sit on the floor when there is company over for dinner and we serve in the empty living room! Sheesh! Do you know nothing of etiquette?

So I was thinking about conservation. Honestly, this word and me have pretty much nothing to do with one another. We are not even acquainted, let alone friends~

I read a quote by Cameron Diaz (yes, her again!) in which she is responding to the question of what contribution she makes toward conservation. She says, "I turn off the water when I'm shaving my legs."

I'm with Cam!

And here's a little chuckle for ya:

Shut Up and Sing

To speak or not to speak. That is the question.

I do NOT like to promote political talk here. Although I love a good debate! I made the mistake of wandering across that line in my last post and I would like to address some of the responses here. People are free to rant in the comment section here, but after this, we will let this subject lie, like a sleeping dog. Maybe. Probably.

Brad K. said:

About the Dixie Chicks... I served in the US Navy. And it seems to me that making a statement against the President, overseas, from an entertainment stage, ignores a lot of lessons learned. Natalie's statement surely created confusion among allies, weakened the President's ability to serve and protect America. She also increased the probability that foreign forces would shoot and kill American soldiers, and increased the number of Americans in uniform and civilian that would be killed overseas.

There are ways to prosecute attacks and complaints about our government that don't endanger American service men and women. The Dixie Chicks didn't use one of them.

I would expect no other opinion from an ex military man. You can take the man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the man.

I grew up in that environment and I know it very well. I do not at all agree with what Brad K. says. I also don't agree with Sornie and Soccer Mom that you must vote in order to have the right to complain. I believe just the opposite is true. If you agree to participate in the voting process, then you agree to accept the outcome. If you remove yourself from that process, then you are not bound by that acceptance clause. But I will defend to the death anyone's right to speak their own passionate conscience. (When my children were at home, they were welcome to disagree with me. But all complaints had to be in writing. This cut the complaints WAY down! Hehehe.)

I would never begrudge someone their right to be strongly supportive of the war and George W. Bush. I would also never begrudge someone their right to be strongly against the war, as well as George W. Bush, etc.

My point was not that we should agree or disagree with what someone believes (and says in public or private, in country our out of country) but to stand beside them as fellow humans and say, "Give me liberty, or give me death!"

You may view my short article from some time past here ~

The Dixie Chicks

Georgia On My Mind

I was gonna say George, but I like Georgia better.

2020 Presidential Candidate Diesel McPhlanigan (I think that's the best last name for a Diesel) has got me thinking about voting. Well first Hillary and Bob Loblah (that one guy) got me thinking about voting.

I've been listening to chatter in the background. The things people say. It does often amaze me that people let such things pour out of their mouths. Sort of like the day I was attending a local Baptist gathering in Southern California, when I heard member after member shout the plaintive cry, "Why, oh why, do we have to let all of these Mexicans live in our country? And seriously, why would we have to educate their illegal children?" They were right. I think we should throw out every single person in the country who is of foreign descent. And if we can't, then the least we can do is make sure that their children are not in school, but on the streets where they belong! Oh wait. The Mexicans were here before we were. Or at least before I was! Dammit, now I have to leave! Or toss my children to the streets.

Yes, I'm sure Diesel's Jesus quote was very close, only I think it was more like, "You will always have the poor with you, but be sure you keep them out of your country."

It's good to be a Christian.

ANYWAY, sorry to have gotten off track. The chatter I've been hearing has been like this:

1. If you don't vote, that's fine (which it's not ~ anyone who doesn't vote will tell you that no one tells them that it's fine) but you will have no right to complain about the elected leaders!

2. The Dixie Chicks had no right to bad mouth the president. They voted, and the one they picked didn't win. They need to accept it and stop complaining!

So which is it? If you vote you don't get to complain or if you don't vote you don't get to complain? I'm thinking the message is, "Sit down and shut up!" Which is of course the most American of messages, right?

Silly me. I always thought the American message was to speak up.

Vote for Diesel

Farrah Moans

I attended a sex toy party while I was in Utah. Yep, right there in the middle of one of the most conservative spots in the entire country. (The C-Spot, if you will.) The next day, there was an article in the paper about the swarm of these parties sweeping the state. They said that there are so many children being born there that we can only assume that SOMEBODY is having sex! I told my Slumber Parties “sex consultant” that this was a good thing, since I once read (via Kevin Bacon) that the key to a lasting relationship is to “keep the fights clean and the sex dirty!”

They offered up all sorts of “romance enhancements.” One of them being bottled pheromones. The next day I received a text message from my sister that she used her “farrah moans” and couldn’t keep her honey-pie’s hands off of her! This is my clever sister. Once I was trying to check the volume control on my hands-free cell phone device. I called her and asked her to start talking so I could do some adjustments. I realize that as soon as you say this, people clam up, so I came up with a suggestion. “Recite the Gettysburg address to me while I work on this.” A moment of total silence. During which I remember that my sister knows as much about history as I do about nunnery! But she’s a trooper. Without a word of complaint she began…. “Fourscore and seven years ago… our Father, who art in heaven… indivisible… with liberty and justice for all… oh, and the home of the braves.” I could have died laughing.

Off the subject, I am tired of getting warnings via email. Warnings about everything under the sun. From “don’t walk alone on the streets at night” to “always wear a space suit when going to the moon.” I received a warning today from a very dear friend of mine. I do hope she doesn’t read this. :) This warning was about the dangers of using your cruise control on wet or icy roads. Are you fucking kidding me? Anyone who has ever actually driven under such conditions knows that the KEY to controlling your vehicle is CONTROLLING YOUR VEHICLE! No, no… let’s let the car control itself… that should do the trick! I mean really… the car wants to remain intact as much as I do, right? WRONG! The car LOVES to hydroplane. Loves, loves, loves it. It’s fun! And if anyone tells me that they have made this mistake, I’m gonna slap them fuckin’ silly!

Utah, Oh Utah, You Four-Letter-Word

Hello from the land of Zion! I'm so sorry to my friends out in blogland for my absence. I KNOW how awful it is when someone seems to be on the dark side of the moon! It's been a trip full of stress, some good and some bad. But, I am leaving here day after tomorrow and will get back to at least a small amount of normalcy.

Thanks for your patience, everyone ~ for not forgetting about me! :)

Love and Hugs to all.

Okay fine. Here's a little something anyway. While out one night ~ in CLEARFIELD UTAH, of all places (Saturday, to be specific-er) ~ we met the comedian Jim Gaffigan. Here's a picture of him chatting with my niece. (It's an awful picture of him. He's plenty good looking in real life.) He and his friend bought us a couple of rounds of drinks. Very nice guy. Down to earth and friendly. Didn't behave like a drunken party animal or anything! (Which he could easily have gotten away with, since we were acting just LIKE that!)

Paddling on the Potomac

Ah, this is the life. I'm visiting a friend who lives in Alexandria. We left from the marina and, once anchored, we dropped into the river on little chairy rafts. One fella was so cute, he would just pull us in by our ropes and refill our champagne glasses. Total ya-ya day. Fun in the sun.

Thanks so much to everyone for leaving your well wishes! It's odd to be so out of touch with my blog world. We're going back to Hampton today for a couple of days and then off to Utah for my REAL vacation. I'll be stopping by from time to time when I can. I'll expect someone to fill my glass. :)

Hampton

Two weeks. :)

This Is Not About Diesel

There's a man in the apartment building who walks his dog. I see him often in the elevator. He has a weenie dog. Yeah, I know what they're REALLY called, but this man is such a weenie, that I have to call his dog a weenie, too. ANYWAY, every single god damned fucking time I've seen this man, his dog wants to lick my feet. And the man spends he entire time in the elevator telling the weenie not to do that. Doesn't say a word to me. Just keeps telling the dog to stop it. The dog does not even pretend to start stopping. And it occurred to me that this man constantly gives commands to his dog and the dog never listens. "Ginger... blah blah blah blah..."

Comedians have something to say...

No, seriously! They do! They are not kidding around!
Even Diesel has something to say! Go visit him at his mattress place!

As for me, I'm going to dinner.
BUT, as a comedian, I have something to say.

A man who loves money more than he loves his woman is an idiot!

That's all for now.

Love to all (as in Tiny Tim love.. Dickens' Tiny Tim, not the weird singer guy)

No, wait! That's not all for now!
I'm gonna be a grandma again! So there!

Which Way Is Up?

Don't you think it's strange that people are willing to pay $20 plus per hour to someone to clean their house and they want to pay only $10 per hour to take care of their precious children? I always thought this was odd. My daughter sometimes babysits for a friend who pays her at LEAST $20 per hour to watch her son. She explains it just that way. "Why would I pay her less than I pay someone who is just cleaning my earthly possessions? He is the very most important thing in the world to me~!" No shit. That lady is right on.

So I was looking at a picture of my boyfriend today and it made my mouth water. Yes, he was fully dressed. Good thing I'm seeing him on Friday.

Sex, sex, sex all weekend. Then to the East Coast on Monday to work at our office out there for a couple of weeks (That's my birthday ~ I'll take sex for my present). Then to hit Utah for a few days on my way back here to the West Coast. So you'll just see me in snatches. (hehehe.. I said snatch..)

Let me see if there is a fun picture to post here. Hmmmm... no, you don't get to see my boyfriend. Some of you lucky few have seen him, though! Um...........

Okay, Marilyn. Who doesn't like to look at Marilyn?

Pieces of Eight

A bad, bad boy rag-ama-tagged me. He knows better, too. :) But was so sweet of him to think of me, so I’m gonna let him get away with it. HOWEVER, rebel that I am, I shan’t be passing the tag on. So I assume that causes me to remain IT.

Eight Random/Idiotic Facts About Me Me Me:

Un) I’m obsessed with pens. So much so that, when I see someone writing with what looks like a smooth writing instrument, I want to snatch it out of their hands! I hate pencils and will only write with a pencil under great duress. I will write with a strawberry before I will write with a pencil!

Deux) If my bra and panties don’t match, I am quite put off. This is why I usually only buy white or black. Recently, I was forced to buy several colors because my favorite brand is now discontinued. (This always happens to me.) So you can now see why I’ve been put off a lot lately. It really pisses me off, too, that when I buy a bra from Victoria’s Secret, they rarely have panties to match. I fuckin’ hate that. It should be against the law. They have stupid panties anyway.

Trois) I hate chewing gum. If you ever see me chewing gum, it is probably because it’s some kind of bubble gum that I can’t resist putting in my mouth, but I almost immediately remove it because I hate how gum feels after it’s begun being chewed. And I think people can look really, really stupid if they are chewing gum and have been guilty of actually judging people based on that fact alone. Obviously, I don’t judge everyone that way, because almost every single person I know and love chews gum and offers it to me constantly and have never figured out that I hate gum, even though I always say “no” and sometimes even add, “I don’t chew gum.” Hehehe. I can relate to this, though. Because my sister has plainly stated that she hates coffee for years, but we still offer it to her.

Quatre) Even though I am the epitome of femininity in my style, I don’t wear earrings. In fact, I own a very small amount of jewelry. And what I do own is good jewelry. I am normally only wearing one bracelet and that’s it. A few men have purchased jewelry for me, one of them an engagement ring. He asked what I wanted and I said I didn’t care, as long as it was real and he picked it out. A male friend of mine once asked if I thought a woman would mind if, instead of a genuine tiny diamond, he bought her a very large and dazzling cz. I replied, “I don’t know, would you rather have a dazzling, fake woman or a simple, genuine one?”

Cinq) I wear my fingernails very, very short, with clear polish. I started doing this when I had small babies at home and found myself accidentally scratching them when changing their diapers. When they got older, I tried to start wearing longer nails again, but everyone I knew kept having babies, and so I’ve kept them short. Now I keep them short because when I give my boyfriend backrubs, I like to not give him puncture wounds in his flesh! (And my toenails are ALWAYS painted pink.)

Six) I would pay ten dollars per gallon for gas if they would pump it for me at the station.

Sept) You will never hear me say that I’m on a diet.

Huit) I don’t believe in the word, “please.” If you do see/hear me use it, it’s usually just for dramatic effect.

Speaking of babies…

A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankrolls smaller, homes happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten and the future worth living for.

What's the Buzz?

Hey y'all. I loved your sweet comments! I do adore my children and yes, my daughter is quite the hottie! Too bad for the men that she's also smart. Purrty Jami asked if she uses the word "fuck" conversationally, and I would say yes. Doesn't everyone?

I've had a whirlwhind weekend, visiting Southern California and all. Arriving back here on Monday and taking off for a tour of Alcatraz that evening. Then shopping all day in San Francisco yesterday, where a good time was had by all. I'm just kidding, who the hell likes shopping? Who invented that as a fun thing to do? When I got to bed last night, those last few stumbling steps that landed me on my bed felt like I was surely weighing hope against hope that I would never have to wake again! Holy hell! I don't even like people, and I just spent several days doing everything I could to be where the people are!

You can be sure that today won't be a parade day for me.

But the company I was in made it all worth it. I found some nifty way that this lovely concept was expressed much better than I can do it!

I read an old post by Brad K regarding romantic notions on Valentine’s Day. I liked what he had to say about how romantic expectations are not mature, adult feelings. His concluding line, stating his idea of how to spend that day, is something I'd like to commit to memory.

Just one more day celebrated in each other’s company and regard.