My, how quickly things can turn around A.K.A The value of answering unknown calls.

I was cooking dinner when my phone rang; I ran to see who it was before it went to voicemail. I saw that it was "unknown" and started answering it at the same time. Normally, that would be a mistake. I don't do unknown calls. But this time it was the PR Director from this place wanting to know if I was 1) still on the market, 2) still planning on moving to the OC by the end of the summer.

My answer was a very enthusiastic yes.

She says I fit the description perfectly of their open PR/Development position and the salary she quoted me should pay the bills just fine. She's going to pass my resume on to the Director of Development and have her call me back.

Holy cow. What if this happens?

This sounds promising... on several different levels.

My Yahoo!: Libra Horoscope for 5/31/05: You and someone important to you need some serious time alone, and you need it right now. You know it and they know it. The good news is that you can both arrange it, no matter how last-minute the requests are, if you choose just the right moment, turn on the charm and ask -- okay, beg -- nicely. There isn't any bad news, either. You may have some hoops to jump through when you get back, but you'll be in such a good mood that it won't matter.

Hell, yeah. :)

Who remembers Coach Cooley from junior high? I have no idea why I just thought of him. Coach cooley was our Pre Algebra teacher in seventh grade. He was the jr. high football coach and made it clear in class that he thought boys were better than girls at most things and lamented the fact daily that he was stuck in a house with a wife and two daughters. I hope he got over that. He was a big fan of Ren and Stimpy and when somebody would state the obvious or give a wrong answer to a question he would cry out, "What IIISSSS my naaaaammme?" Very weird meathead, he was.

Anyway, my life is totally and completely fucking out of control at the moment. I haven't felt like this much of a head case since the week before I moved out of mine and the ex's place to move to Arkansas with the grandparents during mom and dad's divorce only to drop out of Earlene's Beauty School and come back to Oklahoma 3 weeks later.

And for the record, yeah there are some things about my body I'd change. And it changes periodically anyway, but, and this is a BIG but (no pun intended, cuz my ass isn't that huge), I can do some pretty great things with this body, if I do say so myself. I've yet to have any complaints. So I'll just leave it at that.

I've learned that when you're going through some hard times in your life, there are some people you can go to, and some people you can't. I learned a loooonnnng time ago to stay away from mom when I really need encouragement. I guess I just had a memory lapse last night. So now you've had a peak into my psychosis and I'm sure you'll get more as the week wears on. There's much to be disclosed, especially around this time of year. This is when the bad things happen. Don't ask me why.

I'm glad to have Caroline back. The weekend just didn't seem right without her.

Anybody got a valium?

So, the girl he's dating instead of you, what does she look like?

The last two days I've been camped out on the couch watching movies due to a severe lack of motivation and a general feeling of confusion and anxiety about my life in general. I suppose this is to be expected in my situation, but it still doesn't make for a good time.

So mom came home tonight about 6 p.m. and I asked her if she wanted to go for dinner on a patio somewhere in the city. I thought it would make for some decent conversation and maybe even some encouragement about some situations I am facing in my life at the moment.

Something went horribly wrong. We had sufficiently tackled the work and school subjects and I was feeling a bit better to just be out in the open air and have someone to share my troubles with. Then the relationship question came up. The first thing I said was, "Well, if it happens, it happens. If it doesn't happen, I'm fine with that." But then the subject turned a bit more specific. Then followed a series of questions, retelling of stories, and sharing of feelings I don't often share. Then she said it. And I knew what was coming and I regretted the moment she walked into my house this afternoon.

So, the girl he's dating instead of you, what does she look like?

I avoided any specifics and just gave the general overall Oh you know, just a normal looking girl, I guess, answer. And then, even against her better judgment, she said it.

Do you think he would like you if you were thinner?

My answer was a very firm No. She continued to persist in her suggestive reasoning about my weight. She said, You don't think so?

For two seconds I thought about actually expounding on my answer and trying to explain that I had more faith in him than that, but I decided to rise above the situation and said, No, mother. You asked a question, my answer is no and I'm going to leave it at that.

She got a little flustered and there were a few seconds of silence. Then the bomb dropped.

You know, if you weren't so heavy you'd be fighting guys off left and right.

Cue the pissed off water works and excessive use of expletives. I said, "Well that's comforting coming from some who is a perfect size eight and has a note on her bathroom mirror reading, 'If you don't lose weight, you'll be alone forever.'" She threatened to leave, then sat back down.

What followed was an hour of me crying and her trying to explain the societal standard of beauty to me. And like it or not we just have to accept it. I'm just saying you're limiting yourself.

No shit. I don't know how people keep themselves from screaming in horror or vomiting from the sheer sight of me passing them on the street.

See, I never, until tonight, thought of myself as "so heavy." But I guess I am.

As if I didn't already have enough to prove to this world.

Hello, Bulimia, my new best friend.

I know what this means...

I am standing in a hall way next to a huge auditorium that is overwhelmingly burgundy. Carpet, pews, baptist hymnals. It is filled with people, probably 1,000. I'm holding what appears to be an off white dress (hopefully Italian silk, if I'm going down the road I think I'm going) still in its protective plastic bag from being pressed at the cleaners. I'm looking around frantically for my mother.

There is a choir on stage singing. They've started. This is something that's going to be very hard to stop. Maybe I should just give up and go through with it. A girl of average height, with brown hair piled atop her head walks through a side door and enters the hallway. She smiles and says, "You don't remember me." Instantly the light bulb goes on and I say, "Sara!" We were best friends in first and second grade and found out one day that she is my third cousin. We have the same great great aunt. Somehow she'd heard about my wedding.

Mom comes strolling up the hallway in the distance. Thank God. When she reaches me, I pull her close and say, "I've got to talk to you." We pow-wow in the corner. And it goes something to the effect of, "Mom, I can't do this. I thought I could. I know it's that time in my life and it's probably the responsible thing to do, but I have this overwhelming feeling that I'm making a huge mistake. And Ryan is here. What in the world did you guys do with the invitations, send them out to all of my childhood long lost friends and first loves?"

"Daisy, I just thought it would be nice for those people to share in this part of your life with you. And if you feel like you're making a big mistake, don't do it. You don't have to. I've always had this feeling that you were getting married as some sort of fundraiser... for financial reasons. And that's not a reason to get married."

Another choir was singing. Then I heard my mother take the microphone and announce to the onlooking crowd that today's events had been canceled and thanked them for coming. People started pouring out of the auditorium and into the surrounding parking lots. It seemed like every person I'd ever known my whole life was there.

I felt like a weight that had been suppressing my lungs had been removed and I was free to inhale normally again. As for the poor guy on the other end of that long isle to the altar, I still have no idea who he was. I guess it didn't matter.

Holiday Weekend...

I feel so anxious right now. Life is weird. I finally have a house to myself and I want to be anywhere but here at the moment. It's like a nervous twitch. I'm thinking dirty martinis on a patio somewhere with a little bukowski.

Let's see...

All party and no sleep makes daisy a dull girl.

I drug myself through the front door this morning close to 5 a.m. And slept til promptly 10, when Dani decided she was ready to pack up and go.

Then it was brunch at Panera with mom and Dave, then the Paseo Arts Festival for a few hours. And runnin' on not much sleep and the left over alcohol coursing through my veins, crowds of slow-moving, sweaty people are just not my bag. So we stopped for pizza at Galileo, I said my goodbyes and now I'm home.

Today is just one of those days when my life feels like the weather looks. Is it gonna rain or not? It's kinda sprinkling but not quite. It looks bad for a minute, then the sun peaks out only to go back under a cloud. I think I just need a nap. Everything feels wrong today. And I'm having random pains that were somehow inflicted in the course of the evening last night and I have no idea how. The left side of my neck is very sore. Not like I slept on it wrong but like I was straining my neck muscles for something. And my right thigh and butt cheek feel like I was doing lunges at some point in the night. Very weird. I guess I was having more fun than I knew!

Well, I've taken my shower, taken the contacts out, and now I'm going to go curl up on the couch and watch movies all night. Try to get some rest. This is going to be a big week. Brace for impact.

Your mom, my friend, left a message on my machine. She was frantic, saying you were talking crazy. Saying you wanted to do away with yourself, guess she thought I'd be the perfect resort, because we've had this inexplicable connection since our youth...

If we were our bodies, if we were our futures, if we were our offenses, I'd be joining you...

If we were our culture, if we were our leaders, if we were our denials, I'd be joining you...

Yeah, Maroline and I are going to have to make plans. Alanis Morissette Plots Acoustic Little Pill Tour... are you kidding me??

With Jason Mraz. Um Ok. I'm there. If you've never listened to this album all the way through, you gotta. Yeah, it's a little angry, it's a little psycho, it's a little of all of us. Girls, anyway. It'll remind you of your ex, I promise. Acoustic, it's gotta be kick ass. If this woman can do anything, it's write. Check out "Unsent." You probably know it. It's not off Jagged Little Pill, but still, every time I hear it I'm like I should have written that song!! Who knows, maybe I'll be close to Costa Mesa by the time she wraps up the tour... anything's possible. I was just there a week ago...

Anyway, Bleu was cool tonight. A little weird with some all-too-familiar faces in the crowd. But whatever. We rocked out with our respective cocks out. I'm looking forward to a nice day of sleeping in tomorrow. Just me and Dan... mom's staying w/ the BF tonight. Good times. GOD I need some. I'm just sayin'. You get the picture.

It's ok... I've got one... and it's waterproof. Just so ya know.

And by the way, this'll be gone tomorrow. So get it while ya can.

Happy Saturday/Sunday ya'll. Just call me Britney.

Or not.

I've lost my ability to sleep in.

When no one was around this place I could sleep til noon most Saturdays and Sundays. Now I'm up at 8:30 on the dot. Three girls and one bathroom with an extremely creaky wood floor doesn't make for quiet and/or comfortable living arrangements.

And horror of all horrors, I got stinko and threw up in front of my mom at 3 a.m. Mind you, this doesn't happen to me often, (the sick part) but I was running on no dinner and all manner of decongestants last night. There was a knock on the bathroom door, "Did you have too much to drink?" No, I'm fine. Then I ran head first in the dark into my closed bedroom door. Crap.

This night is just not working out like I planned.

Anyway, I guess it all ended up ok. Who knows what today holds.

I am having throat issues. Rain and sudden temperature drops are not good for the allergies. But I checked, no white spots on the tonsils. So my party plans should not be impeded.

I had to do a local cable access show this morning as a favor to a friend... on TBN. Wait, TBN's not cable is it? Whatever, you know the one. Yes, the "Praise the Lord" show. Fabulous. Ryin suggested I break out my Tammy Faye eyelashes, big hair, and hankie and I understood why the moment I walked into the studio. That was possibly the most gaudy thing I have ever seen. Good Lord. I mean seriously, a green velvet couch with gold woodwork? Come on. I felt like I was back in Wanda Jackson's house and I'd left my sequins at home on accident.

But we had fun. Then we went out for sushi. And burping up sushi is not a tasty adventure I enjoy having. But it happens nonetheless.

So I'm going to take my vitamins and nap, then tonight it's on like Donkey Kong boys and girls. All bets are off.

When a woman like me walks into a place like that, you can almost hear the promises break.

:)

Party tonight! I've only partied with these boys once when they weren't playing... and, well... let's just say there were many, many empty liquor bottles littering the Parkerson's dining room when we got done. And I had to break it to Ponch that, in fact, he does have an eighties band.

It's gonna get crazy... again...

I know this is supposed to be life changing and revolutionary since it's 1:27 a.m....

but why is my bed squeaking?

Cuz it's rusting. That's why. Wow, sad times at my house.

Btw, if you're ever out at the wormy dog... make sure Matt's fixing your drinks... I got my tab tonight and he said, "Wow, you must have had Julie make some of your drinks..." That boy never charges me, apparently. Good job, Matt.

I've always gotten along well with Matt's. And Josh's for that matter. And Cody's.

But we won't go into that.

Good times all around. And more to come.

This place is going to be hard to leave, I can tell.

Today is getting nuttier and nuttier. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be needing a drink come nightfall, even though I do have to get up in the morning.

I'm suppressing a rant at the moment... but maybe I'll just give you the short version. We (except I'll be outta here) are going to start offering completely free STD testing within the next 2 months. However, we are not going to offer any solutions to stop the rising rate of (already higher than the national average) STD infections except abstinence. Right. So a girl comes in, tests positive for Herpes (which cannot be cured, by the way) and we're just gonna say, "Sorry ya have Herpes! Just don't have sex anymore!" Cheese and rice. How morally and socially irresponsible is that of an organization that claims to care about the health of their community?!?

Ok end rant. Not my problem anymore, right?

So it looks like I'll be working a second job for dad during June... so if anybody needs anything from him, hit me up and I'll sneak it out to your car. Unless you're wanting that freakin' Tree of Life guitar or something. Then it's gonna cost you a hefty fee. I got nothin' else to say. Hope you're all having a freakin' fabulous Thursday.

Waffle Cone

In my mind
I picked up the phone tonight
dialed your number and said
I feel like chocolate, you?
You said
Hell
Yes

and we met at a fast food place
and sat on cold plastic seats
and licked and licked
until our brains froze
and laughed and laughed
until our smiles froze
at which time I secured
a small chunk of rocky road
on the end of my
spoon
and flicked it into your hair

and it was war

I drove home sticky and feeling like
rainbow sherbet
wondering why
I can't stop writing poems about you

Weekend Plans...

Will do all of the following and probably in this order:

Paseo Arts Festival
Bleu Edmondson
Winter Solstice

Let the fun begin!

Well, I was supposed to pay my bills today and I didn't. I got a little sidetracked.

I've just been reading through Ms. Diaz's most recent entries... lots about friendship. Rather inspiring, I'd say. Friendship, ah, it's a wonderful thing. Can be tricky if you're not careful in some certain very specific situations. But it's always interesting. There is one person in my life at the moment who listens to me go on and on and on and freakin' on about the same things all the time. And always with a smile on her face. And I feel so selfish sometimes because I'm always in some kind of drama, most of it self-induced, and she still listens. But I guess we all need friends like that.

And I was thinking about moving far away on the way to lunch today. And the reality of really leaving hit me. And I know that I will keep in contact with my BFF's no matter where I am, because I always have and figure I always will. But there are a couple of you here that it's going to be really hard not seeing your precious, shiny, little, happy faces on a weekly basis. And it makes me cry when I think about it. There are just some people, a very few people, who make indelible marks on your life that aren't quickly erased. And those people will always be a $99 fun fare away.

There's more I want to say, but I won't. Can't. Won't. It's all the same. You know, self preservation and all... Maroline let me borrow a movie so I think I'll go home and watch it and eat some of Dani's food for dinner.

Hola, peeps and peepettes!

I feel good. I had Hideaway for lunch. It doesn't get much better than that!

So yesterday at promptly 5:20 p.m. I met Pinky for drinks and appetizers. And more appetizers. And some incredible chocolate fondu. Can I get a spoon please? (Oh yeah, she's menstrual... I fuckin' hate that commercial.)

Everytime we hook up for dinner or drinks we spend a couple of hours plotting our next creative roadmap to fame and fortune. We've come up with clubs, books, screenplays, sitcom ideas, and last but certainly not least, and most recently, a completely anonymous porn story site. Because we both agreed that there is a certain segment of the female populous that will not get online to look at porn pictures, but they will sit down for hours at a time for well written stories. And stories, well, they happen to be our forte.

So it's an idea we're mulling over. The only thing is that it may be the source of our fortune, but probably not our fame because of the "totally anonymous" part. But I think it could work. My wheels are already turning.

And I've got a few in my arsenal I could copy and paste just to get the ball rolling... but you'll have to look for it. Because the mystery is half of the appeal.

Well boys and girls, here we are, another rainy Wednesday morning. The unmotivation of yesterday is trumped in a major way by the unmotivation of today.

I had a nightmare last night, I'm sure brought on by the hormone-induced events earlier in the evening concerning the two other women living in my house. It's just not working. I swear to God, before they came the house was the perfect temperature, the bathtub drained fine (slowly, but drained nonetheless) and the toilet had never been stopped up, not even once. And for the last three days, my room has been hot and the rest of the house freezing, the water in the bathtub is getting stagnant because of some mysterious elixir someone poured down the drain, and when I awoke this morning expecting a visit from my favorite aunt, I walked into the bathroom only to find the toilet piled high with toilet paper and the plunger had moved from its home next to it not even an inch.

Not to mention the fact that Tucker cried long and loud all night long due to the fact that his food and litter box had been placed not only in another room, but at the other end of the house. Baby does not deal well with change.

So here I am at work. I've emailed dad to see if I can get in on some of the ebay action next month to tide me over between paychecks, and I'm paying bills and editing the resignation letter before it officially goes out tomorrow.

I was gonna say I haven't gotten laid in over a month, but that's not true so nevermind. :) I could still stand to be taken care of on a more regular basis. But that's not really possible with your mother and sister sleeping five feet away from you. Unless you're really really quiet...

Anyway, it's hump day. Hump something.

Ok, so what now...

I feel really weird. Kinda displaced. I'm at work but I've written the letter and am 2 days away from officially resigning. So I'm kinda over this job.

But then, where am I going? I've got a good prospect, but nothing is nailed down yet. Will it be? I hope so. I guess I can always go work for dad.

I have been getting zero sleep lately. My house is too small, and too old and creaky for 3 people to be living there. Not to mention my sister is the loudest, most inconsiderate house guest that ever walked the face of the earth. She keeps all lights on, opening and closing doors, talking on the phone, doing whatever she pleases till all hours of the morning. So I finally get to sleep around 2 a.m. then mom wakes up to get ready to go about 4 hours later. Doesn't make for a happy Daisy Girl. This shit has got to go.

I just generally feel yucky. I feel better b/c I know huge change is right around the corner and it's going to be great... I just hate not knowing the big picture. I'm a person who likes to have the answers. And the answers, I have not.

And I keep chasing after things I know I can't win. And it perplexes me.

I no longer know who I am. I feel like the ghost of a
total
stranger.

WHHHHYYYYYYYYY?????

;)

So my resignation letter is three pages long.

I had some shit I needed to get off my chest.

I'll be super surprised if they don't ask me to stay. Not cuz I'm so great but because they don't have anybody else to run the place. And they're not prepared for this at all.

If they double my salary, I'll stay.

No I won't.

They don't have a beach for me to sit on and pretty gay boys for me to look at.

I think my mom and my sister went out to eat without me. I let them live in my house and they go eat without me. Bitches.

I'm out.

Moving right along...

Things are happening a lot more quickly than I thought. Be careful what you wish for... I think...

Resignation submitted, effective June 30th, 2005.

Now fuck off.

Oh, the differences that often are between
What we want and what we really need...

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
If You never grant us peace

But Jesus, would You please . .

This may be the most honest to god blog you've ever read from me. And it may be gone in the morning. Or it may not.

Today was one of the hardest days I've had in a while. It seems like it won't let up. Jack said tonight, "You all know that girl... you can talk all you want about her and she'll never know it. She wasn't cursed with self-awareness..." I wish he was talking about me instead of that obnoxious blond I can't stand...

It has never been more clear than this very moment that I do not belong here. I've run my course with my family and with my acquaintances in this geographical location. (Notice I said "aquaintances." I dig my friends. And you will all have a place to stay wherever I find myself on this strange journey.) I've learned a lot of great things and been through some situations worthy of a Lifetime Movie, and it's all been for the best. But I think I'm done here. I have no more reasons to stay.

I loved... a lot. More than I probably should have. And I've given myself completely over to things I felt were callings on my life. It's all been worth it. But I think there are things waiting for me that I need to be open to. Things that may seem scary that I need to let happen. I want to learn how to let go and not think about the what if's and the if only's.

I'm exhausted. I feel like I've been trying to prove something in this state since I was seven years old. I'm twenty-five. And I'm tired. I'm done. I give up the fight. You all win.

I've got a few job opportunities pending in a state far far away... Dear God, make me a bird...

I'm good with whatever happens.

The ride home was relatively quiet. I think we were both a little remiss about resuming our lives. The only reason for us to come home is naked at Caroline's right now...

I opened up my bag to empty my shower contents to wash that airplane/car ride smell off my body and found a nice little note from the Transportation Security Administration.

Your bag and its contents were searched for prohibited items. At the completion of the inspection, the contents were returned to your bag.

Fabulous. You TSA panty-sniffers. I feel violated.

And I have a sharp pain running along the left side of my neck from the feather pillows at the Beverly Hills Plaza Hotel.

And yeah, the buckles on my diamond shoes are too tight too.

It's become more clear to me than ever that I'm over my life at this point. I live for the next big thing. And my next big thing is a thousand miles and at least a year away. And I'm bitter.

I need some sleep in my own bed with my kitty cat.

I'm out.

Ate a $200 fabulous dinner... check.
Jumped in the pool naked at midnight... check.
Had a conversation with a real live hollywood call girl... check.
Got sunburned, dehydrated, and drank my ass off resulting in the worst hangover headache I've had in my life... check.

Priceless, I tell you.

Man are we pooped. Luckily we've got this huge ass bed to fall into and recover. Tonight's our last night out so we're going to Hollywood to do it up right. The next time you hear from me I'll be back in the land of dead grass and cows.

Yippee.

Ok, you only get to fall off the bed, drunk off your ass at the Beverly Hills Plaza Hotel once in your lifetime... and tonight was my night.

So what did you do with your May 18th??

Exactly.

Enter Dave...

So there I was in LA drunk off my ass, non-black face (although I love black people) TIME was wastin' - wishin' KevinMiller (Kevmo) was here to keep me straight, and suddenly - BOOM! the grim reaper crept in.....full of kine bud, tripped out like a million years had come and gone told me he was the devil that fucking bastard - said he had some drugs that would fuck me up (and the rest of the group), wanted to fuck me in the ass but I wouldnt let him (that motherfucker)cause he aint never been to burning man (this is for Jeff! - andI aint gay) (actually Jefe) - anyway back to the buttershot I have alot - so Bukowski owned LA one time - and I tried to get a girl with hot legs and nice boobies to go to his grave but we got drunk instead and BUK (pronoounced like puke) wanted to get drunk on his grave - I think I might have been jealous - and you believe that bastard has been dead for ten years and he still gets the girl - enter John Fante (actually you must read H.L.Mencken cause he's the real shit) you boob picture wanting motherfuckers! I will show you mine (and they are bigger than a lot of chicks) btw - I think I am in love daisy chick) - anyway gooogly moogly like reading at Bart's books cause you are too dumb to get the brilliance and you never read Joyce you stupid bastards only pretending to know what npr said with terrry gross and her interview with gene simmons or r. crumb oklahoma is too far away for my taste too goddamn right wing republican you bush ass motherfuckers - remember we are at war but the only thing anyone really cares about is the gas prices - you probably didnt get this far anyway later.......

Re-Enter Daisy,

If you didn't get that... I love ya! And if you did get it, I love ya even more. ;)

The Sweetest Words a Girl Could Hear...

You've been upgraded.

That's right. This is probably the luckiest thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life.

Maroline and I spent the morning driving up to LA then hit Venice Beach to revel in the culture, the art, and the freaks. And there were plenty of all of them. We got some steals on some cute things and even a few gifts for the compadres back home.

Around 4 p.m. we hit traffic on the 405 on our way to the Beverly Hills Plaza where we had reservations for an executive suite for a song thanks to Travelzoo. The valet took our car, our bags, and we headed to the front counter. And then the little Asian girl smiled and said, "Good afternoon ladies, you've been upgraded."

The bellman promptly showed us to the most FUCKING FABULOUS SUITE I've ever seen in my life. And by the way, they do have cabana boys. After we quit running through the place screaming, we took pictures. Be jealous. Be very jealous. And ironically, this is the cheapest hotel we've stayed in our whole trip. :)



And Dave's on his way up to take us out on the town.

Hahha. And you're stuck wherever you are.

Suckas.

Party in your pants!

Meet Brian:



Brian is 35 and lives in Laguna Beach. He enjoys late night talks with his *friend* in North Carolina, long, soothing strolls on the beach, and riding Harleys with his dad from Edmond, OK.

Brian is a Greek God. He asked Caroline and I to take some shots of him on the beach to send to a friend. Caroline replied with, "Yeah, are you kidding me?!" and mine went something like, "Oh my god you are so fucking hot!" I tend to lose my words around boys who look like the boy in the picture above. He laughed.



And then, in true Daisy Girl graceful fashion, I royally busted my ass by stepping in a hole between rocks in the ocean. We're talking bruises, blood, the whole nine yards. I was lying there screaming in pain, bleeding to death and Caroline and our new found friend Brian, were wetting themselves. Real funny guys.



I got some sun, so at least that was good. And we got some good tips on where the parties will be tonight. Tomorrow morning we leave for LA. More good times to be had.

I'll leave you with a couple of the 862 pictures we took today...

We woke up at 4:30 a.m. Cali time, 6:30 a.m. DFW time. An hour and a half later we had successfully checked out of our hotel, parked three miles away from the airport and checked out every terminal at DFW except the one that housed our flight. With thirty minutes to spare, we checked our bags and boarded the plane to the OC only to arrive to find that while Caroline's belongings seemed to be in order, mine didn't make the cut and would be arriving at 2 p.m. and be delivered to my hotel room in approximately six hours.

Could this day get any better?

Why yes, yes it could.



We arrived at our destination only to find it was the west coast version of the Bates Motel. Um no. We need to cancel post haste. So we headed a mile north to my trusty dusty favorite, La Casa del Camino, where we are currently snuggled under a down comforter and just finished rooftop cocktails.



After finally making it to a decent hotel after the chaos of the morning, we promptly sunk into the bed in our newly acquired room and lounged/cat napped while listening to the waves outside our window for the better part of three hours until dinner. We stumbled upon Partner's and dined on gourmet seafood while listening to live jazz by candle light. This, my friends, is the life.

After dinner we stopped by Ralph's to pick up two bottles of Arbor Mist and a bottle of butter schnapps for our jaunt to the rooftop surrounded by the pacific and the lights of the hills of Orange County. Perfect. And quiet. A gourmet dinner and a quiet rooftop with one of my best friends in the world. Lots of good conversation and a perfect ending to a hectic day.



And tomorrow at 10 a.m. Daisy and Dixie will be getting rubbed down at the world renown Aquaterra Spa.



Have a great Tuesday wherever you are, doing whatever it is you do... wish you were here. Really.

It's 11:12 p.m. We just walked into our room in Dallas. Not a problem except we left at 5:30.

It took us an everloving TWO HOURS to go 12 miles to cross the state line. Good thing we weren't trying to catch a plane.



So, instead of getting mad and flipping off the shitheads that were driving on the shoulder trying to pass people, we decided to educated those poor bastards waiting with us on the high points of Texas music. We must have been quite entertaining because we were getting lots of smiles from people. Probably because we had hands and arms flailing about out of the sunroof and the windows and screaming Babies!! while belting out Texas Jack, Jack Ingram, and Matt Powell at full volume.



So finally, at 11 p.m., after Caroline jumped a concrete median on the LBJ, we roll into the DFW Hampton Inn and Suites, unpack our bags and head across the street for supplies (Sangria and powdered donuts).

We'll hit the sunny shores of the Pacific tomorrow morning 11 a.m. PST. Have a fabulous Monday. ;)

Ok this is it for real. No more til California.

Kevin bought us going away presensts, complete with tiny squirt guns.

And Dogma is meeting us in LA on Wednesday...

Gonna be a great trip. We leave in 5 hours. I guess I should get ta packin'.

Ummmm...

Fingerpaints for Lovers

Borrowing your mother's suitcase can have its disadvantages.

But go mom! nonetheless.

Seacrest out!

The first song that ever made me cry...

-----------------------------------

And my dvd collection will never be complete without these... take note, my birthday is 4 1/2 months away...

Alice in Wonderland... this specific one and the Disney one.

The Secret Garden, this version only...

Mary Poppins...

Pinnochio...

and The Lion King.

My little ones will grow up watching these just like I did. And on nights like this... I wish I had a few of them around.

When life gives you faded blue jeans...

make a booty skirt. ;)



Next post from the left coast.

Maroline says it looks like paparazzi... I think it looks like we need a moment of privacy so she can lay a big one on me...



And if you have not seen this, you must!!

Bllrgshrrrbttttmmaaabrrrssshhhp.

I don't care how much money you'll be making when you start your own practice, if you're whispering that in my ear after 2 beers and 2 shots, you're off the list dear.

Ah, the storms. Lovely. I'm going to have wonderful dreams about every long haired boy I know tonight. I love you all! :)

So how's this for a night:

I'm trying to keep this one entertained, this one came here with a date he can't find, this one's sticking his hand down my ass crack... where the FUCK is Caroline!!!???!!!

Cheese and rice! Thank God Chad's uncle was there to hit on me! :)

And just to clear things up... just in case there were any doubting Thomas's out there... a word to the wise... don't be like me and let the drama impede your fanaticism... you'll miss this:

Ladies and gentlemen...

Take a load off.



----------------------------------------------

There is absolutely nothing nastier than waking up with cotton mouth and drinking sprite at 4 a.m. It tastes like straight syrup. Ick. But it's wet, so whatever.

And speaking of... I had the most wonderful dream early this morning. He was cute and sweet and surprisingly into me all of a sudden and wanted to do nothing but give me little kisses and rub my back... I remember thinking, Is this a dream? And I slowly drifted back to consciousness.

God hates me.

Look what showed up at my work today...

What a gynormous day I had at work.

Good times all around. I am continually overwhelmed at how the bright spots appear so quickly and are so much brighter than the dismal darkness I just came out of...

Don't know what my plans are for the night... I'm broke as a joke and I feel like I need to spend some time with mom since she's sharing the same living space with me at this juncture in our lives.

Who knows. I think I'm going to make some stuffed chicken breasts for dinner though. Mmmmmm... with some garlic italian bread... hey! where's the spray butter!

Hey, can I tell you something? *big grin*

I need to join the sap parade. Everybody's getting all lovey dovey and mushy around here lately... and I guess I can join in, but only for a sec.

In exactly 3 days I will be heading to the ultimate sunny side of the street, and coincidentally, a blue state, with my absolute best friend in the whole wide world. Maroline and I grew up together and were always close in high school, but you know what happens to all your high school friends... they grow up, move away, have mad, passionate affairs with old men in Africa, and you lose touch. But thankfully, the beer brought us back together. Yes, that's right. It was another match made in Wormy Dog Heaven. A friend saw my picture on the WD site, somehow ended up on Sweetwebsite, and found my blog... and told Caroline.

Next thing I know she's at my office having lunch and catching up on the good times. The rest is history, my friends. She is the one person on the face of this planet that I can tell absolutely ANYTHING to. I mean ANYTHING. And she'll just giggle and say, "Yeah, I did that once too..." She feels like home. And home is a good place.

I love my Maroline.

Even if she doesn't let me cuddle with her in bed.

Posted a rant on ICR. Feel free to add your 2 cents.

I'm sorry... what??

Senors y Senoritas,

Today was a good day.

Yes, Ragan, didn't even have to use my AK.

Good things happened all around. It's about time. I've had about the most shitty last two weeks a person could ever imagine.

Except Kevin reminded me tonight how totally false that was.

All my family members are healthy, I have food in my pantry, a roof over my head, and I'm not worried about some fascist army marching down the middle of my street and kicking my door down...

So yeah, life is good.

My dear little mother is sleeping soundly not 8 feet from me in the next room. Even with all the anxiety I've felt about her moving in, I actually feel better with her here. Yeah, it sort of impedes my weekly make out schedule, but I can work around it. I sleep so much better when there's someone else in the house with me at night. (Ummm, someone I know.) Not in my bed, mind you, just someone under the same roof as me. I can always psyche myself into thinking that if some crazy, deranged, maniac, lunatic serial killer breaks in that they'll attack the other person first and I'll have time to make a break for it.

At least it makes me feel better. Especially after recounting all the "When a Stranger Calls," old satanic house on rockwell, and girl from Norman who got raped and killed my senior year stories to Maroline in the dark tonight.

Yay mom. Good timing.

Have a fabulous Tuesday, all.

Look at me, I'm a lil worker bee!

So J, my new assistant, officially reported for duty today. Love her. Keeping my fingers crossed that she doesn't magically and suddenly turn into satan's spawn spewing pea soup everywhere like the last one.

So we've spent the day running to and from Office Depot getting her little space set up and training her on the basic day in and day out tasks. Fun times. Her boyfriend came up to run some cable to the back room for us. He's hot. Yay for my new assistant's hot boyfriend!

It's 3 p.m. and I'm already worn out. I'm totally broke and thank goodness mom's taking me out for Mother's Day tonight. Don't ask me how that works, but I think i got the better end of the deal.

Doing lots of thinking. Doing lots of wondering. Doing lots of doubting and second guessing. Kevin's just going to have to tell me about fifteen more times...

Hey, quit thinking about it. You'll fuck yourself.

Mental note: must go to the grocery store.

Tomato Basil Penne & Spinach Spaghetti w/ left over Don Pablo's queso just doesn't cut it at 3 a.m.

Yeah. Check me out. I'm going into business.

Relaxing weekend. It's about time.

Lil J came up yesterday to spend some QT with her O Town friends and we exhausted ourselves running around doing random things like sitting on Maroline's couch for 3 1/2 hours practicing our sex therapy advice columns and scouring the city for bargains on cute fabric.

We stumbled upon some spring patchwork fabric on clearance for 2.50 a yard. We promptly snatched it up and I whipped up a little A-line skirt for Jack before dinner. I finished Dixie's this morning and it's a fabulous 41" long. Gone are the days of buying skirts that come to mid-calf for us tall girls. If all else fails, make it.

My current project is a snappy little strappless shirt/dress complete with ribbon tie in the back. We'll see how it turns out. I've never ventured this far into clothing before. Pillows, curtains, black vinyl halloween costumes, I can do. Wearables, we'll see.

My shade grass is sprouting! My shade grass is sprouting!

Man, I miss the couch. Those were the good 'ol days. No worries and nothin' but good times.

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Or 05/05/05 as it's known to us white people.

And just think, had the Mexicans not defeated the French in the Battle of Puebla in 1862 we would have no reason to drink beer.

So thanks, Pablo, Juan, Jose, and your counterparts. Because it would just be weird if everybody in Mexico spoke French.

The infamous Drew, AKA Jackie, will be rolling into town tomorrow morning. Hopefully Dixie's feeling well enough to participate in the festivities.

No news on the horrible, terrible, no good, very bad, I'm pouting about my life right now, stress front. I keep swinging between extreme worry and extreme not giving a shit. Must find a happy medium soon. Before the bleeding ulcers set in. I should probably drink more. And do more drugs.

I have no plans for the weekend except to entertain my pal on Friday night and come what may the other two days.

Like I said, I'll try pretty much anything once.

So bring it.

the heaviness of a head
pressed between my breasts
and the warmth and adhesiveness
of sweat on a back
my fingers are stuck on his skin
and the long wide-sweeping passes
become short and finite
just be
stay here
and saltwater droplets one by one
spill their quiet stories onto my belly
relentlessly and impatiently
like little lost travelers
catching a first glimpse of home
we did not move
and the clock ticked away
those stolen morning moments
and thick living breath
hung motionless above us
around us
and we folded each other in
like protector and child
and went under
hoping to find that world where survival meant
sweat
tears
and slow exhalations
and not resurfacing

Lovin' you is like lovin' a house on fire. Burnin' and learnin', baby.

(Thanks for the Marty, Ryin.)

What a day, what a day.

Yeah I woke up with a nice headache this morning. You wannanother margarita? Hey taste this, it's Weller's. Are you gonna finish that bottle of Amaretto? Look! A bottle of Jager!

Thanks guys.

Man, as the days keep progressing I'm giving less and less of a fuck.

And getting less too, I might add.

Kevin and I got into a great conversation last night about how necessary we are to our respective employers. We're planning a revolt.

Here's the key. We open at 10 a.m. sharp Monday morning. Good Luck suckas.

Anyway, I gotta hop on the ol academic train and get my child psychology paper knocked out. Seven pages about how therapeutic playing in a sandbox can be. This is rocket science, I'm tellin' ya.

Well, if you're a humper, be proud. This is your day.

Overheard tonight:

Man, I waxed that caboose six times!

We got community service for robbing Pizza Hut... give us the gumball machine and nobody gets hurt!... at gunpoint.

Ummm, well, it was a blow-up doll from McDonalds.

Our family had this neck massager...

Yeah, you get the gist of it. It was good times at Maroline's. And I take no responsibility for the drunk audio blog here.

Sometimes
I want to
Walk into your house
While you're sleeping
(You never lock the door)

Slink silently
Into your bedroom
Rid myself of
All the cotton
Clinging between us

And be warm with you
Under the covers
And have my way with you
Until you wake up

(And have your way with me).

I just poured half of a day old coke in with my new coke thinking it was from the same can. Bad move.

Don Pablo's queso and flour tortillas for lunch. Mmmmm...

So, what's up? How's your day going? Mine's normal, ho hum, same old bs. I've decided I'm going to send out a few resumes to see if I get any decent offers. You get burned out pretty quickly in this field and I've been doing it for four years for teeny tiny pennies. And it's starting to get a little more political than I'd like.

I've been having some pretty deep thoughts lately. Can't mention all of them here but I'm starting to realize what I really want for my life and I'm coming to the point where I'm going to have to make some big decisions about what I will and won't sacrifice to get there. It's very scary and completely cool. I'm getting a good look at the person I've become, and my sixteen year old self would have died if she could have seen this. Have I really become this chick? I think I have and no way will she stay put in the midwest. It doesn't work.

Man, this is going to be a crazy ride. Good things are happening.

So the broke but nonetheless gorgeous Dixie and Daisy are spending the night at Maroline's Liquor Stand waxing and tackling the big questions... like... Ok, so when you're in this position like this... and he's doing that... does your you-know-what make funny noises?

Oh, if only you could be a fly on the wall. You'd learn the secret to life. Promise.

Have a good one!!

I can't seem to find anything spectacularly entertaining to tickle your fancy at the moment.

It was the last night of class for my prada toating social activists class. It was kind of an emotional ordeal. Dr. H officially announced his retirement to the class and gave a ten minute speech about how he sees in some of us the ability to carry on the work that he's done for most of his life and that's how he knows it's time for him to step down. Then he let us go around one by one and talk about what we thought about the class. It ended up being one huge lovefest and I was on the back row fighting back tears. In his lifetime he's been offered University Presidencies, Vice Presidencies, among many other positions and has been inducted to several Halls of Fame locally and nationally for his roll in the Civil Rights Movement. But through it all he knew his place was in the classroom. He says he can't do many things well, but he can teach and that's where he belongs.

I guess I needed to hear that tonight. Sometimes you forget why you chose this path in the first place, ya know? And sometimes you just wanna grab $150, call a cab, and hit up a greyhound for Vegas. I guess that's still an option... Maybe Dogma will meet me there and we can spend one hot sweaty night together with a one-legged hooker then get married the next day.

Beats my life at the moment.

Well I've got a big Tuesday on the books. Somebody buy me a drink, ok.

Well, here it is boys and girls. Sunday night about to be Monday morning.

The weekend was good. Good friends, good conversation, good times. The grandparent's was fun...mimi and poppa fought like cats and dogs as usual. Seventy year old unhappily married people are funny. Then this afternoon, promptly at 2 p.m., the Favorite Grandchild Parade started. Twelve of mimi's closest high school friends came waltzing through the front door for brunch, shocked and slightly confused at the sight of a woman less than three quarters their age standing in the entry way. Suddenly one of them belts out, "Shery! Oh my heavens I feel like I'm looking at Shery twenty years ago!" And the chorus followed, "You must be her daughter! You are beautiful just like your mother! I can't believe how much you look like her!" And yada yada yada. Then Georgia, Mary Jo, Helene and the girls made their way into the kitchen for brunch chattering and cackling as loud as Maroline and I after 2 bottles of wine during The Cell Block Tango.

Those were some of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And they've been best friends over fifty years. If that's what I have to look forward to, I'll take it.

Regretfully, I had to make my exit early and they promised to record the whole thing for me on Georgia's new-fangled cell phone that took video. They just wanted to make sure I knew every story there was to know about mimi in her wilder years. And there are some good ones, no doubt. I've gotta get it from somewhere.

I stopped off in Broken Arrow for dinner with Jack, Steven, Mike and Pam. And that is always a good time. Pammie Jean is my mom away from mom and always gives good advice. And we talked decorating a little for their new three zillion acre palatial estate outside of Tulsa. It was great times all around and Jack will be coming up Friday to spend the night at me casa and hang out in O town for a bit. The girls are back.

This is going to be a hell of a week. Could be great, could be horrible. That has yet to be determined. Either way, come this weekend, I have a feeling my life is going to be a lot less stressful.

Here's hopin'. Have a great Monday.