What a freezing cold day it is. I was not looking forward to work this morning... simply because there are some days when people just wear me out and I would rather be in my own office with the door shut doing nothing but getting my work done and reading blogs. I long for that day. Soon. Soon. Then I felt bad once I arrived at the office seeing that my Tuesday morning volunteer had brought me a Cinnamon Crunch bagel from Panera with Honey Walnut cream cheese. I don't even think HEAVEN is going to be that good. So my day started out better than planned.

Kinda.

As I mentioned yesterday, there's a bit of drama going in some of my close friend's lives. Friendships can be hard sometimes, especially the close ones... and ones with even closer pasts. I was finally pushed to say the dreaded words that have sent panic and terror running through my veins for most of my cognizant adolescent/adult life... I just need some time. I never really understood those words and always thought they were a convenient cop out for not talking about/dealing with things. And for the first time in my life, I realize that taking some time for yourself can be a very good thing. It doesn't mean I hate you, it doesn't mean I don't value your friendship, it doesn't mean we won't spend more time together at a later date... it just means that I need a break right now. And it's funny how even the most distant, "not let anyone in" people panic at that idea. I had 3 missed phone calls from 12 a.m. to 7 a.m. Man, people just go through some rough stuff, and I understand that. And I want to try to be there for the people in my life who need me, but sometimes I can't. To quote my ultimate favorite kindred spirit, SWH, I have given everything. I have lost the bottom of my boat. So this is me-time. And I haven't had me-time in years. So, I'll mark this down in the W column on my growth chart. Yay me!

Everybody should come out to the WD tonight for the big show, if for no other reason, to get out of the cold and be a social creature. I may make it an early night, but I'll definitely be making a cameo. We shall see what the evening holds!

What a crazy night. Mercury is in retrograde for sure.

I decided to only answer one phone call today. And that was an unexpected and random friend wanting to do lunch. So we did. And I didn't answer the phone for the rest of the day. I had about 10 missed calls, two of which were my dad and he left me 2 messages telling me how much he loved me. Ummm, love you too dad but that's kinda freaky. Maybe it's the universe's way of giving me love in this uncertain time of change. Who knows. Or maybe he's just gotten ahold of some of Andrew's stash. It wouldn't surprise me. I went to class then came home and I'm typing to the noise of Doc Day... it's a film of a "colorful homosexual" who tells crazy stories while sitting in the back of the car. Ummm, yeah. Interesting. So far my favorite part is where he tells the story of reading poetry on "Open Stage Night" from a paint deck sample in the voice of Bill Burroughs. Fabulous.

And now I'm cold and bored so it's probably time for the Tylenol PM and gettin cozy under the covers and letting this day drift away into oblivion.

I saw a snowflake this morning.

...I hope that means change is in the air.

Through helping a friend with the drama in his life in a late night phone call last night, I got a good look at my own life. I've been doing some things really wrong I think. Well, maybe not "wrong," because I think everything has a season. And I think we do things and we go through things for a reason. And I think the last four or so years in my life have been the way they've been for a reason. And maybe that reason is so I can stand back and look at my life now and say, "Ok, I'm done with that, let's do something different."

I admitted some things out loud last night that I've never said in my life. It's weird how much things change when the words go from your brain to way out in the open. It makes them real somehow. And then you have to deal with them. So I'm dealing with them. And I'm sure I will for quite some time. And I think part of me dealing with those things is going to entail me leaving this place. And by place I mean Oklahoma and the midwest in general. I've got at least two years left at my job and in school, but at the end of that time, I'll be set to go wherever I want. That's the good thing about my degree and what I plan to do for the rest of my life. You can go anywhere and do it. And don't get me wrong, I'm not running from problems in my life. We all know how well that works. I just think I've exhausted all of my resources here. And it's time for me to do something different... in a lot of different areas of my life. So for now I'm just going to try to keep learning and try to do it more gracefully and gently than I have in the past... and not make blatantly harmful decisions so much... or at all actually. But it's going to take some work. And some hard, ugly days. But you gotta do it sometime, right? And for me, it's time.

Another lazy Sunday...

and cause for contemplation. I didn't get out of bed til well after 11 a.m. this morning. I thought about getting up around 9:30 then thought better of it. After all, it was cold. After I finally drug myself out from under the covers, I spent the rest of the day lounging, doing laundry, and watching Sex in the City reruns. (The On Demand Channels have become my new addiction.) So instead of putting another coat of paint on the walls in the kitchen or stenciling the bathroom, I settled in on the couch to watch Ms. Bradshaw's Parisian drama unfold once again and got butterflies in my stomach, even the 2nd time around, when Big said he put the house in Napa on the market. Some things just never get old. Except, I'm thinking, maybe me.

I did some thinking today about how I'm different than I was four or five years ago. And I also did some thinking about the message I send to other people about certain subjects. And I think I come across more hard core than I really am sometimes. And I think my instinct for self-preservation turns into something very hard and impenetrable sometimes. And I'm making a conscious effort to not let my fear of not being strong inhibit my relationships with other people. I want to be open to different situations and be comfortable just going along for the ride, no matter what it is. I don't want to be so grown up and jaded that I forget how much fun it is to throw caution to wind and just play it by ear. I want to let the softness out and be ok with it. So that's what I'm going to do.

Heaven at Bargain Prices

So normally I try to be all anti-establishment the weekend after Thanksgiving. I'd rather take a sharp stick in the eye than go shopping the day after the feast, or any time relatively close for that matter.

But on the way home from the obligatory dinner with the step-relatives this afternoon I passed Garden Ridge and said to Dani, "Should we?" And she said, "Yes, yes!" So we parked about a football field away from the building and fought the angry mob for about an hour. And I couldn't be happier. I bought a 5x7 rug for the guest room, which those of you who are accustomed to crashing at the Daisy Pad will greatly appreciate, and a 7x10 rug for the living room. ALL for under $50! I've always prided myself on finding good bargains and still keeping everything looking cute, but today I've outdone myself. Truly. I also bought a set of four plates and bowls that are super cute and made it home without breaking even one of them. You should be proud.

And I'm thinking about stenciling the bathroom tomorrow. We'll see.

Back in town but the party's not over yet!

In a couple of hours I get to meet mom's new main squeeze. She's actually suggested we get a bottle of wine at dinner. If you know my mother, you're probably thinking, "Wow, this must be serious." Indeed. Time to get schnockered with mom. There's a first time for everything... since I've never seen her consume even one ounce of alcohol in my lifetime.

The day and a half at my grandparents' was good. Mimi and I stayed up til midnight last night talking after everybody went to bed. She told me a story I'd never heard before. She was an only child and one of her best friends was her first cousin named Jimmy, also an only child, who was 10 years older than she was. He used to pick her up and and set her on the handle bars of his bike and ride around the neighborhood. When mimi was 9, Jimmy went to fight in World War 2. He was a pilot. Only days after he'd left, messengers from the War Department were on the family's front steps bringing the news that Jimmy's B-52 Bomber was shot down over France. She said that was a day she'll never forget.

And before I came home she finally gave me my great grandmother's (her mother's) box of handkerchiefs. They are beautiful. I'm going to hang them on ribbon with clothes pins for a valence in my office. And I promised to take extra good care of them. Hopefully, I'll have them to give to my daughter someday.

Anyway, all is well and my tummy's full. Hope everyone else had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

I'm also thankful for my books:

(the ones the catch my eye at the moment)

1st Edition Our Bodies, Oursevles (HILARIOUS)

The Kreutzer Sonata

3 HUGE anthologies of American Lit that I could not live without.

Letters from the Inside (A brilliant book of adolescent lit.)

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Siddhartha

Selected Poems and Prefaces (Wordsworth)

The Camera my Mother Gave me (excellent!)

Mrs. Dalloway

At the Foot of Heaven (my first real introduction to poetry, be it ever so humble)

Stranger than Fiction

Love is a Dog from Hell

and a whole host of Shakespear plays.

I also have 100 Years of Solitude but I can't get up the nerve to read it just yet.

These would be the things I'd grab if there was a fire. Except, I could always get copies. So, in reality I'd probably just grab Tucker and get on with it.

Every year we all say how thankful we are for our friends and family and yada yada yada. Yet, I still don't think most of us really stop to consider our lives at the moment and what we have to be thankful for. I've been thinking about it lately, and here's what I've got:

1) My education and the people who helped me get it. It is a long (almost 7 years just for undergrad) and ongoing road and it was full of discouragement but it has paid off. And I couldn't have done it without the handful of people who voiced their belief in me.

2) My mother. She is one of my best friends and we are truly kindred spirits. She's taught me how to freakin march straight through hell's fire and come out of it without a scratch. That woman is my hero.

3) My little sister. She was my arch enemy for the better part of 17 or 18 years. Luckily, we both grew up and now we're best friends. This is a good thing because next year she's going to med school and I want her to buy me a house. In California. With a view. On the beach.

4) My dad. When things get tight, he's the first one to pull me through. Completely and utterly dependable in tight situations. I've yet to meet a man who lives up to the dependability of my dad.

5) Elaine Smokewood and Marsha Keller. Two of the most different and fascinating women in the world. I wish I was able to see them more these days. If I become one tenth of who those women are when I'm their age, it will be a miracle. They taught me that change is always possible.

6) My high school basketball coach. To this day, he is on the list of top three people (outside my parents) who have influenced my life the most. He had a hard road and not everybody agreed with his methodology, but he finally got his state championship and he changed lives in the midst of it.

7) My job. I've been doing alot of thinking about this lately. I feel very constrained and limited in my scope of service at my job, yet I love it. The clients are the ones who keep me coming in day after day. Even though things aren't exactly as I'd like them to be, I know I'm here in this place for a reason. And I know most of that reason is to learn. I'm grateful for the learning experience, and I'm excited to see what it's going to produce down the road.

8) My friends. All of you. Without you guys, my life would be completely boring. And all of you are a part of this time in my life and you'll all probably be in the stories I tell the grandkids.

9) The one person this year who challenged me to really look at why I am the way I am. You're awesome. I know you were (are) in the middle of some really nasty and unpleasant things, but letting me go through that process with you changed who I am... or rather encouraged me to see the real me, and to not settle for less. I hope I gave something back.

10) The blog. I'm thankful for the blog. Believe it or not, it's helped me avoid hours and days of psychosis. Even if I do get a bad case of the deletes every now and then. Self expression kicks ass and I've been quite proficient at it this year.

I'm thankful for a whole lot more things than just those 10. But that's all I'm going to type for now. Those are the big ones. So this holiday season, really take a couple of minutes to think about your life and how you got where you are. And tell the important people in your life thanks. And try to notice someone who's not having an easy time this season and give them some encouragement. Do the Kevmo thing and write them a note and pass it across the bar. Just do something. Happy Turkey Day!

[And yay for my 700th post!!]

Good Things About Today:

Woo Hoo! Half day at work! I don't have to go in til 1!

It's raining pretty hard.

Maybe I'll go back to bed.

Dani gets here today!

Ok, that's all I gots.

Can I just share a moment of honesty with you? Sometimes being 25 and single just plain sucks. Especially during the holidays when there are lots of fun events to attend that you just can't go to alone. Normally, I'm game for flying solo to most anything, the mall, a movie, even dinner. But there are certain events where it would just be weird and a bit depressing. Ask a friend? Ok, which unmarried friend would that be?

Ok thanks. Just had to get that out.

So here we are. It's a holiday week. Hooray for the time off! And hip hip hooray for the good food that's about to come our way! And you know what's an even bigger party? Lil sis is coming to town! Woo hoo! This means hours of fun spent eye rolling and making sarcastic quips under our breaths about our redneck relatives. The fun never ends. For certain it will all begin over soup and sandwiches Wednesday evening with the grandparents in northwest Arkansas, and listening to poppa make every racist joke in the book and getting upset when no one laughs... listening to Mimi sigh, shake her head and say, "Bill.." and finally my mother's face will get so red she looks like she's going into a full on gran mal seizure just before she storms out of the room praying she is actually the milk man's child.

Then we'll all retire to our respective rooms, except for me, mom, and Mimi who will stay up til midnight in front of CNN, discussing the political demise of our country. Then eventually we'll all go to bed and Dani will wake me up at 2 a.m. in a huff because I'm snoring and she just can't take it anymore. She'll promptly move the couch in the living room and fall asleep. We'll wake up at 10 a.m. next morning to find mom and Mimi have actually been cooking since 7. Lunch is at 2 and by this time my crazy uncles will have joined us and the fun begins with the racist jokes, the sighing, the high bloopressure, and the fighting. But there will be the most incredibly delicious food you've ever tasted as a backdrop to it all. And it makes it all worth it. It has to.

And just think, in another month, we get to do it all again, only next time we get to do it 4 seperate times!!! Jesus I can't wait til January.

My back yard is so pretty right now. It's raining golden and brown leaves down onto the perfectly green grass. Everything is so colorful. I should probably take a picture.

Last weekend I was driving around trying to find the old post office I used to go to before I figured out there was one closer to the apartment I lived in at the time. I was winding through the city backwards from the way I used to go, so I got lost. I was trying to find my way out of a quaint little winding neighborhood and happened to see a very small yard sign that read, "YWCA" and had an arrow pointing east. If you know anything about this organization, or any other domestic abuse shelter, you know they never disclose the location. You won't find their address in the phone book and if you call, they have to be convinced you're a battered woman, not her mother, sister, or friend, to give you the location.

I was laying in bed last night when the thought popped into my head, that less than 2 miles from where I'm resting safe and sound, there are moms and kids barely sleeping because 1) they are in physical pain and it's hard to sleep, or 2) they are still afraid daddy or mom's boyfriend is going to find out where they are. And at that moment I became very thankful for the people in my life who cared about me enough to love me through the process of getting off that road and to where I am now.

And it occurs to me now that there are probably moms and kids there who won't get to open presents in their living rooms on Christmas morning with their families. I think I'm going to call and see if there's anything I can help with.

Does anybody else ever feel like they're stuck right in the middle of the f-ing twilight zone? This is my life, currently. Things just seem a bit haywire at every turn. Maybe it's the holidays. Don't even get me started. Having fairly newly divorced parents sucks ass. And nobody stops to think that when your holiday traveling plans go from one 3 hour trip to four or five 3-6 hour trips just to make sure everybody gets equal time and doesn't get their feelings hurt, it becomes damn near impossible to fit everybody in. There are always hurt feelings, it's inevitable. And these are grown adults we're talking about here. It just sucks all the fun and joy out of the holiday spirit.

Anyway, everything else is getting kinda freaky too. I'm having to do alot of just taking a deep breath and letting people get it out without 1) saying something I'll regret 2) ripping their heads off 3) letting my head explode. It's definitely a lesson in patience and acceptance. And I'm trying to learn.

I'm going to spend the next week and a half reading a book by Robert Coles, who is my favorite Child Therapist Guru, called The Call of Service. I've heard it's excellent. And I've got all kinds of very interesting thoughts about where I want to be in 3 years now. I don't know how I plan on funding these projects yet, but it's going to be revolutionary. I promise.

This day has gone downhill rather quickly. I can't say what will happen this evening... it's looking like it may be crazy. One can only hope. I feel like acting out in a major way.

So in the meantime, check these comics out. I love these guys. And they fit my mood perfectly on days like today. And you can even buy some of them as prints at A Softer World for a limited time...

I cannot Contain my Lust

Legs for Souls

Hope

Voodoo Love

Well, I've designated today House Cleaning Day. Whaaa? Daisy Girl doesn't clean house! Well, today she does. It's getting pretty rank. 1) Between work and school I have no time to be meticulous. 2) I'm just not motivated at this point. But today, I'm gonna do it. Gonna scrub the floors, pick up the piles of clothes laying everywhere, take out the trash, and do the dishes. Mom would be proud.

Oh and by the way, I get to meet her new boyfriend next weekend. That should be fun. We're going to Redrock. Instant score. Can't go wrong. I'm already sold. Even though he's 5'7''. Yay, just another night where I get to be the Jolly Green Giant. Oh well.

TGIF!!!

Ok, so I got nothin to do for an hour. Everybody's gone home, my 2 appointments had to reschedule and I'm stuck here cuz I gotta go to school in Norman at 6. So I figured I'd make good on my promise of a rant today.

So I'm thinking about this thing with FCC. Who are these people anyway? And why do they think they have the sovereign power to control what we see and what we don't see on Television. There are 5 of them? Only 5 men who get to say what's appropriate and what's not? Hmmmm. Doesn't smell right to me. And here we go with the real issue: Nicolette Sheridan's bare back and an NFL player. No boobs, no ass, just back. What's the complaint? The illusion of a naked woman? Oh my God! Quick! Somebody get the Holy Water! Cheese and rice people. It's Monday Night Football. It's mostly guys watching and I know they're not the ones who called in and complained. So that leaves just the wives who happened to be passing through the living room at that exact moment and were so offended at the thought of a woman's bare back in front of their husband's eyes that they had to pick up the phone and call Washington. I'm willing to bet these are the same women, who as my friend Dana says, "hike up their long nightgowns under the covers juuuust enough to look over at their husbands and say, 'Ok! I'm ready!'" And please, let's look at this more objectively... so yeah, you see a woman's back... right before you see some massively roided up dudes beating the piss out of each other for an ungodly amount of money. Give me a break.

I don't wanna go into the whole thing about how women's bodies have been viewed as a major source of evil for the world since the beginning of time, but it's true! How come the FCC isn't complaining about showing guy's backs? And HEY, I've seen some sexy backs, ok? I don't know why it's any different! Why is a woman's body something to be ashamed of? Why are our only choices extremes? There is no happy medium! We only want to see 2 kinds of women: porn stars and mothers (or someone who looks like she'd be a good candidate to be a mother). It's the old Madonna/whore complex. Why can't a woman's body just be beautiful just because? Not because she wants to use it for sex or to bear children and be the picture of perfection and wholeness, but just because she simply exists.

And for Chrissakes! Ashcroft covered up The Spirit of Justice because she had a boob showing! And a very nice boob, I might add! As an Assembly of God Minister, I assume the statue conjured up all kinds of lustful and sinful thoughts for the former Attorney General. Sweetie, if you're having thoughts about canoodling a statue, you've got bigger problems than you know.

And that brings me to the conclusion of my rant. Rock out with your boobs out. F the FCC.

I'm surprised Pepperdine took her...

Always make sure you rinse out your dishes if you haven't used them in a while. Otherwise you may end up something that tastes like Mac n Cheese con Dawn/Sunlight/etc. etc.

Some of my new favorite bloggers are:

Josh at How to Whine and Dan, AKA the Happy Freakin Ray of Goddamn Sunshine, at bobopuppyhead.blogspot.com. I'm an avid reader on a daily basis. Very entertaining and very well written. And those are my 2 prerequisites. And if you like stories about one night stands gone horribly wrong, check Jeff out. He's not bad either ;) Oh and this guy can cook anything. His latest is chocolate covered jalepenos. AND he does pilates. Expeirment at your own risk :)

Oh and KISS has started their 24 hour a day christmas music thing. Uhhh looks like it's gonna be CD's at the office for a while.

What a crazy week this has been at work. Lots of tears... things are weird around here like that... we'll go for a good month without anything dramatic then BAM it's a new heartbreaking story every day of the week. So Friday is going to come none to soon in my book.

I'm ready for it to be done raining. And my A-#1 reason for this is simply the fact that my driveway is not wide enough for me to get in and out of the car without getting muddy. And there are huge trees on either side so there's no grass. Just mud. And I'm tired of it.

I've got a rant that's been brewing inside for the last day and a half that was sparked by the whole FCC Monday Night Football incident. We'll see what I've got going on later today... I may let it out... in the mean time, click on over to my links and read what Tony Pierce had to say about the whole ordeal. Well said, very well said.

A Night in the Life of...

I think Whitney and I just officially became stockholders in the Archer's Farm Corporation. They suck you in and won't let you go. A night time, rainy trip to Super Target turned into an all out exploration and expedition into uncharted hors d'oeuvre territory. We're talking Spring Rolls, Chicken Pot Stickers, Franks in Blankets, Mixed Berries and Cream Cheese Phyllos, along with Cheese Straws and Chocolate Covered Cherry Cookies. OH man. And Whitney even bought some of their coffee. I've never even heard of these people! Where have I been?

Of course we got all the regular staples like chicken pot pie and frozen pizzas but I dare say we found a new collection to add to our staples this evening. Then we wondered through the home furnishings commenting on the state of the world in general when Target begins to carry things we would consider buying. Maybe things are looking up!

And I've gotta say I dig a hair cut when you can stay out all night in the rain and come in looking more presentable than when you left the house. Skanky, wavey hair kicks ass when it rains.

Maybe we'll pack our bags and catch a plane to Barcelona cuz this city's a drag...

The ache isn't wearing off. Man, you guys, I just can not get beer drunk. It hurts too much. I can drink whiskey all night long and feel fine the next day, but 4 or 5 beers and I'm outta commission for the next 24 hours.

God bless Kerry for going to get me the most fabulous BBQ in OKC for lunch. And God bless God for making me the boss so I can leave after lunch if I wanna. And God bless the rain so I can sleep and sleep and sleep and be comfy cozy under the covers.

God bless us all, every one.

And as a side note, in this day and age, WHY is there not a website you can go to (locally) where you can shop for groceries online and someone will box them up and bring them to your house?? I would pay a couple of extra bucks for delivery if it meant I didn't have to brave the hallowed halls of Wally World.

Wow tired.

I don't think I'm caught up from this weekend yet... which makes last night's festivities feel even worse today, even though I took it semi-easy and came home earlier than normal.

Random thought: In general, I love drunk people (if they're nice drunk people). I think pretty much everybody I know gets very touchy-feely and huggy once the intoxication sets in. I love it. It's so cute.

It was good to see Nikki Diaz out last night, brave soul she is. She's making the long trek down strep-throat mountain so she had water in her hand most of the night and finally decided to cut out when her hands were so freezing she couldn't deal with it anymore. Then she and Shoop flew off into the night. And she's going to VEGAS this weekend. Good luck with that chicka licka.

I think I'm gonna take the afternoon off today. I was gonna do it tomorrow and skip class tomorrow night, but I really need to go to class. So maybe I'll head outta here early today. Maybe take a much needed nap.

Tuesday Night/Wednesday Morning Drunk Blog

I'm not an alcoholic, I promise. Special occasion, going out on a Tuesday night. And what special occasion is that, you ask? Well, it was a birthday party... a birthday party with a lot of really cool, drunk people... and an over abundance of cigars. But it's all good. Ragan, Melisa, AND Mr. Residual Pixel were out for the festivities. It was a good night. I quit fairly early. apparently. I mean, it's midnight and I'm home. I, unlike some other people didn't have an alcohol consumption goal for the night. However, I gotta say good job on that. I don't know that I've ever been privy to that kind of experience before.

And on the way home I was listening to a CD that somebody made me a while back... a Johnny Cash song to be exact. It made me laugh. I don't know a boy on this planet who doesn't have man love for the late Mr. Cash. And I was just thinking through all of them... one of them I consider one of my best friends, one of them I consider one of the greatest loves of my life, one of them I told tonight he'll be married by this time next year (good luck babe), and one of them is like so interesting to me but so not into me that it makes me laugh at my naivete sometimes. And all that from a Johnny Cash song.

But it was fun. A nice diversion at the very least. And it's work tomorrow, with a fabulous hangover, no doubt. And hopefully to bed early tomorrow night. It would be nice if fate had other plans, but I don't foresee it happening.

And Yay me! I only made TWO drunk dials on the way home tonight. And neither of them answered. At home asleep, I'd assume. So sorry dears if I woke you up. Just consider it my way of saying, "I love you."

i can't even talk about it without getting the ache

My sentiments exactly. It's in the air and it's starting again. Somebody's going to have to feed the beast. And I have my preferences.

Pinky if you wanna go with me tonight, lemme know. We'll get our party on.

I seem to have a friend who's lost his smile... So here ya go babe. Chin up! You'll make it through.


And my engine got going rather quickly this morning thinking about blogs and comments and what you say in a blog and what people have to say back to you... things of that nature. Just thinking over my friends with blogs and those who've handled these situations differently... I know a couple of people who have deleted their blogs altogether, I suspect for reasons concerning one or more significant others... and then there are those who delete their comments. That gets frustrating at times, but only if they are a personal friends of mine. Usually I want to say something and can't, but still I understand the rationale (kind of) of not having comments. And I understand it even more if you're using it as a business site, or if clients could possibly meander into your blogworld.

And then I started thinking about the way people think they know you from your blog. This has continually been something I deal with. I've met some very interesting individuals simply because I have a tiny piece of cyberspace where I ramble about whatever strikes my fancy. Yeah I've had a few negative feedbacks in the form of comments, but generally they don't bother me too much. What does bother me is when people I know from the real world start attacking me personally with things that stem from one or two comments I've made on my blog. Mostly in the form of calling me a slut, or insinuating such a thing because I talk about sex sometimes.

Speaking of... the guy fixing the AC just got here. and Woooo hoooo. Hello Mr. Handy Man. ;) I think the problem is right over here...

And so moving to other topics that have been discussed in other blogs around the way... being the uber-feminist I am, I have to address the controversy over girls putting themselves in the position to, as Mr. Franklin so eloquently put it, "fuck the autopilot." This happens when one or more parties has too much to drink and the inevitable ensues without much forethought, or effort I suppose. I know there are some people out there who are of the opinion that when a guy has too much to drink, and has sex with a girl, then doesn't want to be with her the next morning, that it's somehow "rape." Oh my. I don't understand that. Rape is when someone doesn't want to engage in sexual activity and is coerced and/or forced into doing it. Fucking the autopilot is something that is a natural result of two drunk people taking advantage of the situation and of each other. There's nothing wrong with that if you're prepared to deal with the consequences, guys as well as girls. A whole host of ugly things could happen. So be careful about it would ya?

And as far as the whole "whiskey-dick" thing goes, whether you can't finish the job or can't even get it started in the first place, who hasn't it happened to? And girls aren't immune to the whole thing either. I don't know any girl that you don't have to play your cards juuuust right with after a good night out :) And you'd be surprised how many guys aren't holding a single wild card at that point.

But every once in a blue moon... one comes along...

Ok, the good news is I got my pink hat and scarf in the mail today. I looked on the tag and it said Made in China. So I figure those little chinese gals have tiny heads. But it'll stretch out the more I wear it. It's still super cute.

The bad news is I came home tonight and half of my house is without power. I don't know what the hell's wrong. I went out and flipped all my breakers and nothing happened. And it's so weird. The power is out in the kitchen, but the fridge and the microwave are OK. So it's like you can eat, you just have to do it in the dark. And one of the lights in the living room works, but the TV's out. And the computer room/office/catch all/art room is totally without power. So, being the ingenuitive genius I am, I know that cable doesn't run on power so I plugged the modem into the good wall in the living room and connected it to the cable that's NOT working cuz I have no TV. And wha-lah! I get to spend the night reading all my favorite blogs and seeing what kinda trouble I can get into on the www.

And fortunately for me, if I can't get this damn thing fixed tomorrow, I have plenty to entertain me tomorrow night at the uber scary/crazy drunkfest that's invitation only. I may go just to watch people get drunk and strip/make out/fall down/pee on themselves. It's never a dull moment in my world.

Ok. Not true. There are lots of dull moments in my world. But they are becoming less and less. And this is a good thing.

What a delicious weekend I had.

And through conversations with a couple of friends, I realized what a diverse peer group I have. It makes for interesting conversations and even more interesting weekends. They span the gamut from people who wear suits on a regular basis to people who work their asses off mostly outdoors for a living and every possible thing inbetween.

I have friends who won't set foot in a gay bar and friends who have an unimaginable affinity for them. I have friends who won't venture downtown if you paid them and friends who seem stuck in Bricktown. I have friends who mainly stick to the Western corridor and friends who would just rather stay home and chit chat over a martini.

And I love each and every one of you :) You make my life so much more colorful and well-rounded and yummmmmeeee!

And I do mean Yummy. Yum yum. Grrrr...... :)

[And speaking of interesting friends, Ryin's site is back up. Yay! ...and it looks like he's got a date with Jenna from the Bunny Ranch. Rrrooowrrr! I told you things would start looking up!]

If I Only Had the Noive...

Here's why my dollars go to drag queens and not strippers:

It's balls to the wall. Ok, maybe balls taped to... uhhh... still not really sure where yet. But wow, what a job those girls do.

Gotta say, I missed my partner in crime tonight and you know who you are :)

I mean I love the strippers. I do. Those girls get out there night after night and show it all off for all the greasy boys who happen to be out that night spending all their twenties in one dollar increments. That takes alot out of ya, I'm sure.

But the drag queens. I gotta give it up to them. They're out there flaunting something they don't even have! Now that's bravery!! You should all go to at least one drag show in your life. At least one. They can smell if you're straight and they won't mess with you... ok, well maybe just once or so... but you'll live. Awesome.

Anyway my best friend since I was 7 went out with me tonight. She didn't drink, so she was my DD. It was kinda sad because I wanted her to have fun, but she picked up about a zillion dudes, so I'm sure she was fine. Curly hair does girls like that. I'll never understand it, but it's true.

Nice diversion from the norm:

Variety is the spice of life. Ya know? Awesome.

Word.

What?

For the Record:

I am not "nervous," "scared," or "embarrassed." Some girls just don't like it when complete strangers persistently try to stick their tongues in our ears.



[This is a piece of the writing that's covering my wall. It will heretofore be known as the BWP (big white paper).]

My favoritest, next favoritest, and least favoritest things...

about tonight.

My FAVORITEST:

Hhahahahhahaha. "Non drunken" phone calls...

DG's phone: Ring ring ring

Caller: Andrew!! ............ I mean....... this is Andrew!!

hahahhahahahhaa.

I love phone calls where someone just freaking blurts out their name with not much else to say. I gotta tell you, honestly, it made my night. Plus I love him. He's at the top of my list. That doesn't hurt.

My NEXT FAVORITEST THING:

Ummm. I can't really remember but I know I had a good idea when I started this blog. I would say it's probably the fantabulous aweserrific piece of pseudo-hilarious/embarrassingly revealing piece of art on my wall... it's "in progress." And if you think you're going to be left out of it... think again. It's about YOU my friend. No one will escape unscathed.

My LEAST FAVORITIST THING:

The fact that there are NO taco bell's or other fast foods open past 1 a.m. within a 3 mile radius of la hacienda. Apparently, living in the hood has it's advantages. What's a girl to do at 2 a.m.? Cook? Please. Well, ok.

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Have a fabulous Friday suckas. I'll be sleepin in.

OMG. Look what I just bought. Yay Winter!!

If there is one type of person I don't deal with, it's the OCD house cleaner who gets snippy when everything is not exactly in its place.

Let's just say I get the joy of the company of one such individual once a week at work. And this individual is volunteering, so a firing out is out of the question. (But that would be my first option, otherwise.) Sometimes I have to remind myself to just take a deep breath and the fact that this person gets flustered does not mean that I have to get flustered. So.

Man it's cold out side. I love it I love it I love it! Bring on the snow! Happy Thursday all!

Oh, and I'm skipping class tonight if anybody feels like getting mischievous with me.

So i'm not painting the kitchen. Again. But I did something better.

I bought a big roll of white paper and I'm writing on the wall. Yay! I finally cleaned out my "catch all" room and there's plenty of room to write or draw or scribble or color or whatever.

It's amazing how you can feel better on just $11.34.

What a busy Wednesday this has been. I had to be a grown up today and talk to a bunch of corporate people about money things. **blech** But it pays the bills, I suppose. Sometimes it can be fun... for instance, there is a potential donor on the south side who is a young woman in her early thirties who, by inheritance, is a multi-millionaire, an incredible entrepreneur, event planner, and very very well connected. She's tall, blond, single, and a bit of a party girl. And she has something I need. So I've tasked one of my hottest, youngest board members with the job of getting in to see her and schmoozing her until she gets out her checkbook. And I have a feeling she will. The words "tax deductible" seem to mesmerize those with neverending bank rolls.

So anyway, that's what I've been doing today. And presently it's raining cats and dogs and thundering pretty loudly. Awesome. I wish I was at home though. I think I have PTSD. I got into a small fender bender which had the capability to almost be a massive wreck on the highway in the rain, due to a diesel spill. And ever since it freaks me out to drive in the rain. So I just go really slow, so as not to die.

Anyway, I swear tonight I'm gonna paint the kitchen walls. I have to. Just do it, just do it. I mean, what else am I gonna do?

Ok, so I've figured out what the "Save as Draft" function is for... it's for nights when you are totally unmotivated to fold laundry, put another coat of paint on the walls in the kitchen, or hang up the piles of clothes draping your footboard, so you opt for the mint chocolate martini ingredients in the fridge and you have... ohhh, say... five. That's what it's for.

It's for the nights you finally break down and see what the last Lick submission was, only to find it was Tony some time in September giving in to the wanton god of uninhibited porn stories, and thinking, damn I've got those but I've never actually hit the "Publish" button.

It makes one wonder if one should hit the "Publish" button.

But rest assured, if one does decide to publish, it will not be here. Not unless you beg. Then I might consider it. Because really, what keeps me from doing it? My hits are in the humble hundreds. The people I know who read the long lost tales of Daisy Girl are only in the single digits. And they know what's up anyway. So why the trepidation?

You like that? Look it up.

Anyway, who saw Channel 9 after the CMA's?? Dierks Bentley kicks ass. That's all I have to say. They asked him who he was wearing or whatever and he said, "Man, Ragweed and I have played more shows than anybody in this town (Nashville), more than 200 this year. I don't have time to think about fashion." Good job, man. Kick ass.

I've been working on a poem all day.

This is ridiculous. I don't do that. Five minutes and I've knocked it out.

And it's not even that good.

A brief interruption of my swirling dust-sparkle jet stream...

Happy Tuesday, all.

Daisy Girl recommends Films About Ghosts: The Best of Counting Crows. Can't take it out of the CD Player. This man makes me want to paint... cover a wall in ceiling to floor paper and just mark it up whenever the mood hits me. Something's stirring in here and I don't know what it is...

A thought occurred to me last night: I've been writing since I was eleven years old. Volumes and volumes of writing. I am twenty-five. I have never even once read any of my writing out loud. Never. I don't like other people to read it out loud either, I respectfully ask them to read it to themselves. This is a problem. Poetry, even in its earliest forms was meant to be spoken. I ooze with it, or as Pinky says, I pull it out of my ass, and yet I can't make it come out of my mouth. Let's just be honest, it's because what I write is usually the truth. And if I say it out loud, it's out there, I have to deal with it. And what then? What does that say about me? I've got to do something about this. But first, I have to write more. So it's on the agenda. With about a thousand other things...

Well, fall is here and it's getting colder. I feel like I've been in a state of metamorphosis lately. Something's changing, I'm just not quite sure what... or how. But I do know ever since I graduated I've not been doing enough to nurture my creative self and I've been way too caught up in the daily grind of work/house work/grad school stuff. SO. I'm going to a weekend Creative Writing workshop for poetry/memoirs for students and alumni at OCU, and I'm joining IAO and I'm committing myself to poetry night, Wednesday nights at 9 at Galileo. I need to get out there and see what other people are doing. I need to be inspired. And I think coffee and some poetry could do the trick.

And a good book. I need a good poetry book...

Ummmm...



Is it just me or did these two hatch from the same egg??

And here's an interesting little tid bit to ponder on your Monday:

CNN reports about the battle in Falluja: Insurgents could be heard chanting in Arabic: "God is great."

Similarly, Mr. Falwell says about the recent election, The left threw its best punch and George Bush and social conservatism are alive and well. To God be all the glory!

Hmmmm...

I took him downtown to look at the paintings... and I didn't remember it until tonight standing in the kitchen when it struck me in some random moment. It's getting colder outside and it was summer then. Or just beginning to be summer. And we had a day together. A day we didn't usually have together and a day we haven't had since. I realized when we were walking up the stairs to Gallery 3 that I had already told him every little detail about every one of the pictures, but it didn't matter. He needed to see them for himself. And he needed to see them with me. And he did. It didn't take us long. We were out of there in an hour and back to where we wanted to be and started in the first place. Home. And that's when I understood what that word meant. A feeling, not a place. Not people, not things. Just home. Quiet comfort. All the things I need that I didn't even know I needed... to feel beautiful and perfect fully clothed, and even more so when not. To be held, and every once in a while, held down. To be quiet and to breathe and to cry and to breathe harder and scream sometimes. To just be, and be ok. I didn't have to be the girl in the painting trying to prove she was perfect in every way. And he wasn't asking me to be. And he opened his mouth to say something, and I said, "Don't. You don't have to." He did anyway. And I didn't until it was too late.

It's 3 a.m. in College Station and Stoney kicked complete ass.

No one was out so we had him all to ourselves.

Peace out homie G.

And love on your neighbor.

Yay College Station!

Not so much yay for 12 hours in the car with my southern born and raised, Baptist preacher dad who invariably likes to talk condescendingly to me about politics...

Yay for XM Radio!

I'm out like trout.

Ok, so maybe everybody's tired of talking about politics. I don't know. Maybe not, because everybody's still talking about it. I'm becoming more perplexed by the minute. Never in my lifetime have I heard so many people, and people in my generation, talking about leaving the country. I totally understand talking about leaving the country and physically packing your bags, looking for work and/or school in another country are two totally different things. However, I do think it speaks to the fact that those of us who grew up idealizing America as this impenetrable land of milk and honey where everything would always be safe and comfortable and rosey and fair and just have had our eyes opened to what the world really is. And what war is. And what it means to have a voice and what it means to use that voice and not have it count. I think some of us are beginning to understand what it feels like to be lumped into a group we didn't choose and to have to answer individually for the group as a whole. And personally, I'm trying to reconcile the fact that living, breathing Americans are still content to be catered to on the "would you like to have a beer with him" level. Forget the record job loss, forget the record deficit, forget the tax cuts for the top 2% in wartime, forget the preemptive strike on a country who has no WMD's while the crazies in North Korea and Iran say we've got them you stupid f-er's and we're going to use them while you're not looking, forget the fact that a #1 Timber lobbyist was appointed to be the head of the Forestry Department, forget the fact that the man could not even rep his set in a debate on American television, speaking his native language, even when given three chances, let alone convey an accurate picture of this country to the world... but maybe he is accurately representing this country... this country where things aren't really all that just, where we're more concerned with two same sex people loving each other and committing to eachother than states that have a divorce rate nearing 80%, a country where it's more important to just utter the word "God" or "prayer" in front of a national audience than have to give accountability for absolutely any of your actions, a country where it's more important to seem down home than intelligent. Maybe he is an accurate representation of the country in which I live.

And that helps me understand why I look around and younger Americans across the country are actually thinking that this land of the free and home of the brave that was so vigorously fought for 200 years ago isn't everything their history and poli sci teachers told them it was. I'm not leaving the country... but the midwest is honestly becoming more than I can bear.

Since today is my Friday and I'm really sleepy and feeling a general disenfranchisement about my relation to the outside world, and namely the other citizens of this country, I thought I'd recount a rather interesting dream I had 2 nights ago. I've always heard that if you feel compelled to tell someone a dream, it is of significance in your life. So it goes like this:

I am in this huge hotel. It's very old, but very very nice. It just feels pricey. There are lots of winding staircases and chandeliers, and lots of dark wood accents. I look down at what I'm wearing and it occurs to me that there's not very much to my outfit. And it occurs to me that I look daaaaamn good and I know it. So I see this blond girl walking toward me, equally as scantily clad, and I realize it's that girl Jamie from the Scary Movies. (I can't remember her last name right now.) And she walks up to me and says our next clients are here. I get a little excited and a little nervous and follow her back to this huge hotel suite, where there is a guy waiting for her. I can't really see what he looks like, I just know there's only one of him. So I'm like, "I thought you said clients..." And she doesn't seem to be listening to me at all because she starts making out with this guy. Meanwhile I start wondering through this huge suite looking for the guy that's supposed to be there to meet me and I'm not finding him anywhere. So I start opening closet doors and looking behind furniture for him. Not there. So I walk into the bathroom and open the shower door... and all I see is a naked butt and two bright yellow, patent leather, platform shoes attached to feet that are wrapped around a bare back. And she starts screaming at me to shut the door. Sorry!! Sorry!! Whoops.

And I woke up.

What does it all mean?

And don't state the obvious, please.

More funny election stuff.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or maybe it's the fact that since 6 a.m. Tucker couldn't resist pouncing on me for a solid two and a half hours. He got smacked. Then he just whined and kept me awake.

And I'm one of those people who just keep going over and over things in my mind until I figure out what to do about them... or work up the courage to do what I know I should. And it looks like today I'm gonna have to flip on the bitch switch. That is SO not me and I've never had to just lay it out there in a professional setting but it looks like today might be the day. (If I get time.)

Anyway, thank GOD it's Thursday and I'm only staying for half of my class tonight. It's just one of those days. And I'll make the 6 1/2 hour long trek to College Station tomorrow to see lil sis. And watch A&M get kicked by OU. Have a freakin fabulous Thursday.

Freakin' work.

And cold, rainy days with no time for a nap.

And no fireplace.

And one of my friend's dog just got run over. This isn't shaping up to be the best day ever.

Good thing I've got a bottle of vodka waiting for me at home in the fridge... it's my alternative to getting warm by the fire.

Just in case you're not a member of the illustrious sweetwebsite.com, and didn't get the email... Ragan's finally got his photos up! Here's my most recent fave.

November 3rd...

Here's the thing:

It doesn't matter who "wins" this election. Almost exactly half of the country didn't want him to and didn't vote for him. It's almost like Bedlam. Somebody gets win in their column but I'm not sure anybody could call it a victory. And sombody's gonna have a whole lot of work to get done at home within the next four years.

And now we wait...

ummm... keep waiting. So my voting experience went like this:

I went to get in line around 11 a.m. I can honestly say I teared up in the car by myself on the way over. Don't think I'm nuts, it's just that it suddenly occurred to me that this was my first official act of true freedom. I say that because this time it was my responsibility to educate myself and assume personal responsibility for my future and the future of this country, instead of just taking what was handed to me by someone who felt it was in their best parental/teaching interest to tell me what to do for moral and/or religious reasons. And because of that, I've parted with many of those hand-me-down ideologies and chosen a more personally educated and responsible approach. So yeah, it got a little emotional for me. It's kind of like growing up.

So I made my way into a very dark and sad looking Baptist church and wound my way around to the very back of the building where I stood in line with hundreds of other people for an hour and 15 minutes. And wouldn't you know it, it's always my luck. The one weirdo I try to avoid on a daily basis is standing in line in front of me. His name is Pete. I've known Pete's daughter since we were 13 years old. He's always been the crazy old guy that people try to avoid. And I kid you not, he is the spittin image of Ned Flanders. He's very loud and tries to have a humorous comment for everything. And he's a Bible salesman at Mardel's. So Pete took it upon himself to entertain everyone standing in line by regaling us with his knowledge of OU and Big 12 football. And then he launched into a patriotic speech, spouting off every t-shirt cliche known to man: Freedom's free, but it ain't cheap, and this is democracy in process, people. Democracy in process. And with great privilege comes great responsibility and we live in the greatest country in the world. Shut up Pete. Even the tiny little old lady standing in line behind me tugged on my sweater and said, "That man's a know-it-all and he's getting on my nerves." Right on, sister. Right on.

So I finally got to the front of the line, signed my name on the dotted line, got my ballot and voted. I put my sticker on and walked with my head held high out to the parking lot hoping I had made some kind of difference in this wonderful thing Pete calls the democratic process.

Well boys and girls, here we are... the long awaited day that could literally change the course of this country. I think we all know where I stand, but regardless of your political affiliation, take some time out of your day today to exercise the right that countless people have given their lives for... just so you could push one little button, touch one graphic on a screen, or fill in a little oval on a ballot.

Call me an idealist if you want, but I think this our year. For 12 hours today, 18-30 year olds have a choice... to decide to have a voice in this nation or to continue to be, for the most part, a nameless and faceless generation. I choose the former.

So get to your polling place, and if you don't know where your polling place is, call the county election board... and if you can't get through just pick a polling place, take your driver's license, and tell them you have the right to vote. More than likely they'll let you in. And by some far off chance you've been hiding in a cave somewhere or maybe under a rock and you still haven't made up your mind....

Vote for change.

Just some of my favorite t-shirts for the big day tomorrow. (Some of them came from T Shirt Hell and some of them came from Cafe Press.)

Advice from Tony on what to do if the desired outcome is not achieved tomorrow...

what should you do if bush wins tracy?

you should riot.

burn the mother down.

cuz theres no overwhelming rush of new republicans coming out of the woodwork, but theres plenty of dems.

and if somehow they figure out a way to take away our freedom to vote and to have our vote count then they deserve the fires that will burn across this land.

bush didnt win the debates, he hasnt won our hearts, he hasnt won any new alliances in the world, he hasnt won either of the wars that he's still fighting,

and he wont win this election.