LIVE NUDE GIRLS
Friday, March 02, 2001
blog blog blog hello girls, i have finally arrived. a proper computer at last, enabling me to blab forth on many thrilling topics.
lael, you crack me up, you write so well, and the chuckles do me good. but seriously, sorry to hear via maura about the ten page primal scream whatnot, and just all the whatnot. all of it everywhere exausts me thoroughly. duh.
soon i will convey to you all the particular irritating stupidnesses of life here.
Saturday, February 24, 2001
Lael, yes! chocolate and 20's go well together. Just make sure you keep the money part a secret.....most schools have rules about that sort of thing.
Who died and anointed you the queen of live nude girls? Did maura give you the power to ban in her absence?? I'm itching to tell the spray paint story and tell you guys about the rats. (sony and cher).
Yes, its true. I was dumped for a fifty year old. If you want to see what she looks like, go to www.razzcals.com shes the bimbo in the middle.
Oh, and Lael? Julie aka "Jewels" (PUKE!!@!!!!!!)_ drives a 99 Honda Accord, silver, with charcoal interior. I used to fantasize about flattening her tires in the middle of the night while she slept on my side of the bed, but i never did.
Friday, February 23, 2001
Advice for the broken hearted. Hmm. Well, weve all been there.
Thank god its only happened to me once. See, once youve been fucked around your whole goddamn life, you dont really risk your heart and i was stupid enough to let it happen to me a few years back. At the time, i thought i would die. You know the scene, crying all night and getting no sleep only to finally fall asleep at 530 am and the alarm goes off at 545. You drag yourself into the shower and then are still so upset you puke while youre standing there naked.
I dunno what kind of advice to give. I still feel bitter about being dumped. I am not sure if i am bitter because i got dumped for a shriveled up 50 year old with giant boobs or if it is because i believed in a friendship that never gave back to me what i put into it.
A friend of mine just had her heart broken...it's been being slowly chipped at for some time, but now the final splitting blow, the kind that splinters so no matter what when the pieces go back together there are little bits missing. And then what ... being left with a little misshapen heart. I know mine isn't what it once was. Now I'm completely disfunctional. So my advice to the dear sweet broken hearted friend is jaded and vague because I'm so screwed up in my own weird world. My own relationship sunk months ago, but I'm still clinging to some sort of floatation device in the stagnant water. Any wisdom for the broken hearted girl because I'm drawing a blank. I'm tired of saying guys are assholes and offering to buy
cocktails to lessen the pain. Or giving my new speech on settling and maybe I've used the the words "sugar daddy..." I don't know, but I guess I should get back to work...I've made no sens...and I'm sticking to it.
Thursday, February 22, 2001
did you know the probably make less than $7/hr.???????????Make them some goddman cookies and do it soon. (chocolate chip, not the cheap kind)
I got an A onthe test, i knew all the answers. Either that, or i was wrong on all of them and i got an F.
I hate my job. I almost quit today, but i am afraid if i do, we'll starve to death before i find something else. I am trying to find a nice typing job at the college where i wont have to scrub toilets for $10/hr and be told things like "when you wash the children's dishes, use hot soapy water." No fucking shit. Is it just me, or is it highly annoying to be told obvious shit like that? My supervisor has very obviously had years and years and years of dumbfuckers working for her and automatically assumes i am one too. Either that, or shes a control freak. I cant figure out which one it is, but its starting to eat at me like battery acid. Its time to get a better job, with benefits and sick days and shit like that.
I am considering taking the C-best exam and just be a sub until i get my certificate.
Survivor is on tonight. Dont miss it, its going to be good!
Hey Teresa, if you have a pulse you're in... And I am so happy to know that you are basking in the blogging experience.
God Cindi, I've thrown so many math/spanish books and said the same thing except that the last word was shit and not dick. Fucking math--hate it. I have one more math class I have to take (that is if I passed the math class from last semester). I have two more semesters of Spanish which I suck at. I am convinced I have a language learning dissability because I can study for hours and still fail all the tests. But this lovely chap in my rhetoric class told me about a teacher at the community class that will pass you for coming to class and doing the homework. Also that teacher likes girls. I am okay with flirting a bit for a passing Spanish grade. FINALLY, my looks will come in handy.
You have to be a little stronger about the whole grading thing... If I get a C on a math test I dance for joy. I look at it like this: I know I'm smart but I'm not necessarily the best student but I have a lot of shit in my life going on. So, it's an equal trade. I have a B average and a two year old. I figure the A/B difference is due to him and the amount of time he needs me to spend with him. I also think that in ten years I'm not going to give a shit about what I got in some stupid math class. Passing is my only goal in any class and as long as I do--I just don't care.
There is an article in our college newspaper about the English department and its students trying to get American Lit. instead of Brit. Lit classes as requirements. A female student is quoted in the newspaper as saying, "I'm tired of dead white males dominating my classes." She took the words right out of mouth. She should have elaborated on that and said that she is also tired of almost dead white males teaching the classes.
A grits pan is something you make grits in. Dennis has some weird obsession with Southern food. The guilt I feel about ruining his grits pan is immense. But Maura said, do you know how many grits pans we've had around here? I told him not to even mention it to you because I knew you would feel really bad. Dennis on the other hand LOVES to make me feel really bad because it is so easy to do.
Wednesday, February 21, 2001
Welcome to the madness, Teresa.
Lael, yes, maura pretty much taught me that, too. And i quote "your life doesnt have to be shit". That small statement changed my life.
I have a HUGE math test tomorrow. I already had a minor meltdown over it and threw my math book on the floor and said one long expletive. I think my word was something like "pigfuckingnarcissisticdogshiteatingpieceofmotherfuckingdick" or something like that. It made me feel so much better. I think ive got a fair shot at an A tomorrow, but if i get a B, i'll try not to cry. I already cried today. It didnt help, i still didnt understand the goddamn equation.
Ah, 2 year olds. When i was poor, i took a job at a school that had an opening for a "teacher"....it turned out to be a room full of 20 two year olds. Boy, was that a mess. I quit after 6 weeks even though i absolutely love that age--20 of them together is just asking for problems. So i taught them a few songs, some shapes and some colors and told them "I only wipe my own butt" and got them all familiar with the finer points of the potty and that was that. I think potty training the masses like that should have gotten me some sort of trophy but it didnt. All it got me was some cookies from one of the poorer parents who was grateful to not have to buy diapers anymore. They werent even homemade. I am still bitter about it, can you tell?
How is he after eating the incense? And what the hell is a grits pan?
Hmmm...I've been live...nude and a girl. All at the same time before I am pretty sure, but maybe not so much lately....how about if I add bald. I'm not sure how to type w/o turning it into rambling ranting...so I'll spare the masses and just enjoy my first time with the blog experience...I'm basking. Where the hell is spell check...
Santi broke something purple in Maura's room today. I took a moment of silence and thanked the gods that it was nothing belonging to Dennis. The thing about two year olds is that everything is wildly vivid and enticing and it has to be touched.
I understand where he's coming from it's just the occasional THING gets broken. He cries after it breaks. I think in about a year he will have the insight to understand what not to throw and what to throw.
He also happens to be a sports fanatic. Imagine a two year old with perfect aim and delicate things. That's right, DISASTER is written all over that.
Ah Cinidi, Maura was my high school English teacher as well. I owe her a thousand thanks for helping me understand you don't have to feel normal and fit in to this world. You can actually take it and make it your own. :~)
Tuesday, February 20, 2001
lael, i love the excerpts. (is that how you spell it??......goddman maura didnt teach me shit back in HS)
once in the sixth grade these mean girls locked this kid named ronnie in the girls bathroom and threw maxi pads at him.....i forgot about that guy.
dont worry about the breakage.....it can be replaced on e-bay no doubt for a small fee. (dont ask, dont tell)
god, its after 11:30 and i have to haul my almost middle aged ass out of bed and smile at people in the morning. (with no goddamn coffee.)
Oh my god, poor you. But more importantly poor Shara that's horrible. The worst thing in jr. high is to be different. Once, I had tampons fall out of my back pack and this boy I liked (at the time) noticed them and gave me a bunch of shit. I refused to admit they were mine. Denial is a wonderful thing.
As I finished that post from Laurie I turned around to find Santiago and Wilhemena enjoying a healthy feast on Maura's incense. See, two year olds are capable of acting on what dogs WISH they could act on. Then they become partners in crime. Both of them started eating the incense faster, like they were frantic to consume what is obviously poison to both of them. Now Santi is in my lap and we are preparing for an evening of literature anthologies and cartoon network.
The thing you should all know about me house sitting is that something always gets broken and then I have this horrible guilt.
The very first time I broke a grits pan that belonged to Dennis. I think he still misses the grit pan.
Then the next time I stayed I somehow broke a casserole dish.
Then I think the next time nothing got broke.
The last time Santi broke the glass on maura's vanity stand. Which I think would be more valuable than a grits pan but she didn't give me any shit. So, I get extremely nervous house sitting in the un-two-year old proofed house. Wish us luck on two more days of an accident free zone.
Cindi I have a paragraph that I thought you might like from one of my favorite authors (maybe a paragraph or three):
"Through college she had been a feminist--basically: she shaved her legs, but just not often enough, she liked to say. She signed day-care petitions, and petitions for Planned Parenthood. And although she had never been very agressive with men, she felt strongly that she knew the difference between feminism and Sadie Hawkins Day--which some people, she believed, did not."
"Agnes, are we out of toothpaste or is this it--oh, okay, I see."
"And once, in New York, she had quixotically organized the ladies' room line at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre. Because the play was going to start any minute and the line was still twenty women long, she had gotten six women to walk across with her to the men's room. 'Everybody out of there?' she'd called in timidly, allowing the men to finish up first, which took a while, especially with other men coming up impatiently and cutting ahead in line. Later, at intermission, she saw how it should be done. Two elderly black women, with greater experience in civil rights, stepped confidently into the men's room and called out, 'Don't mind us, boys. We're coming on in. Don't mind us.'"
"Agnes of Iowa"
P.S. We've had two bite free days between Santi and Skippy. Maybe they're coming to terms with their differences.
OMG.....umm, ok then. I'll admit, ive done that before, but only once and only because i didnt know i was supposedto have those strange hairs. (my mom still hasnt gotten around to explaining any of this.......) Picture this: 8th grade locker room...and the dreaded "show me your wet skin or you wont get credit for PE today" type teacher. (is this standard middle school torture?) and all the girls noticed that my 12 hairs (or whatever it was) were missing. I was the laughing stock of the school for at least a week until this poor kid named shara got her period and bled on a chair. (then they harrassed her and forgot about my bald thing.) I wonder if shara has forgotten. I doubt it.....
To answer your question...yes, i am very proud. I am trying to decide if i will stay for class tonight or not. I am celebrating my womanhood in full force right now and i dont feel like talking about sex with a bunch of 18 year old homophobes.
You are also correct....youre definitely NOT a tracy. Just as i am not a fucking brady (ive always hated my name, but at least i changed the spelling.)
My middle name is WORSE.
I have another story to tell.....but it will have to wait. Remind me when itell the car story. It involves my class rats from last year and theur untimely demise. :(
Well Cindi, what can I say? It has to be done.
I just spent four long hours at the DMV, it was a HUGE pain in the ass. What's with my stupid luck anyways? As soon as I walked in the computers went down and remained down for about an hour. I did catch up on some much needed reading for class (are you proud of me Cindi? now I know what's going on in class too).
After about two hours of being there this strange girl started talking to me. She talked to me the rest of the time. Apparently, I remind her of her dead friend Tracy. It doesn't bother me so much that I reminded her of her dead friend but that I reminded her of someone named Tracy. Of all the names I can think of transforming into Tracy is incomprehensible to me. I am sooooooooooooooooooo not a Tracy. The girl also accused me of being happy. This bloggers is the reason I cannot go out in public anymore.
Then I met a bum that was trying to get money from me to catch the bus. The DMV is in the middle of no where and I wonder how the guy got there in the first place. After I refused to give him money he informed me he was on morphine and the history of his entire life. Lots more could be said about the DMV experience but as I still have my soul and all body parts I'll stop there.
Monday, February 19, 2001
Partial birth abortion is when a woman has gone past her first trimester of being pregnant. So, anything after three months of pregnancy would be considered partial birth abortion and it's a gruesome. I'm sure you could go to anti-abortionist web pages and read all about it, but be sure to go to the planned parenthood website right after.
Well Cindi, about the shaving thing, I used to be against it but have changed my mind. Recently, I've decided I don't shave for anybody but me, I like the way it feels. I tried waxing a while back but it hurts. So, I shave and now transformed the time from annoying and monotonous to personal Zen time. And the thing about itching, it doesn't itch if you use deoderant right after. I have no idea why I know that but I do and it works. Don't get freaked out here, but I am an honorary cult member.
Actually, I am far more willing to do girly things than I ever have been. Maura and I had a discussion about women that get their nails done (which I do) and how horrible it is. She was going to write in something about women that have their nails done in her novel but thought she might offend me. I told her it wold absolutely not offend me and to feel free to insult us. You can feel free to give me lots of shit about the waxing/manicures/pedicures but I'll keep on doing it, for now.
Hopefully Maura has a decent car in five years. She's been trying to get one since I met her. BTW, she says hi to us bloggers but cannot blog from the lap top in Washington. She's having a great trip, adopting Tony's new girlfriend, having a bunch of family over for dinner tonight and driving to the occasional vet clinic for some cranky old dog.
wow, the caddy passed the emissions test. this is an event worthy of posting about. I still have washington plates on my car because i am afraid my car wont pass the smog test. besides, i plan to gift my car to maura when i get a new one. i cant just give it to anyone....it must go with someone who appreciates the value of a car with a broken windshield and a radio that works only half the time. Not to mention the pee stain on the passenger seat from my 3 year old nephew who tried totell me he had to go and i told him he could make it to marysville. god, was i wrong. Pee just wont come out no matter how many times you shampoo the seats. Hes 8 years old now, so thats a very old pee stain.
Anyway, maura, if youre out there....in five years or so you can have my car if its still running. washington plates and all. Ive been thru a lot in it and i wouldnt give it to just anyone.
Speaking of bush....i had to buy a playboy magazine and look at naked women for my human sexuality class. I had to write a paper about my reaction to the assignment. Did you know that almost every single one of these people shaved off all their pubic hair? it was like some weird cult....i wonder if anyone warnedthem how bad this was going to itch when it started to grow back in.
Ive never understood shaving.....i think women should shave thier legs only if its absolutely necessary (you know....like the once a year trip to the doctor for a hoo hoo inspection.....things like that......) I shave....but i hate to do it. Mostly i only do it once or twice a month.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues.....thats what dr suess wanted to be famous for...
speaking of george w.....what the hell is a "parrtial birth abortion" anyway?? It is a very common bumper sticker here.
I just got back from the emissions test and good news the cadillac passed. I know you all were having anxiety about it rest assured it's all taken care of now. While I was in line for the testing there was a truck in front of me with 17 anti-abortion bumper stickers and one Bush supporter bumper sticker.
The Bush supporter bumper sticker was underneath a Clinton kills babies sticker. Also, doctor suess was quoted, "small people are people too" with a picture of a fetus next to the quote. I don't think doctor suess wanted to be quoted on the back of this guy's truck. Obviously I know the value of children as I have a two and a half year old but this guys car was really pissing me off. If Santi wasn't in the car with me I might have rear ended him just to do it.
Finally, we got up to the front of the line and I ended up in an abortion debate with the emissions people. A female employee and I were giving the male employee's shit about agreeing with the lunatic with the 17 bumper stickers.
Then this strange hispanic employee tried to break the tension with a dumb joke which went like this:
How are you today?
I'm fine and you?
Oh, not so good I was abducted by aliens last night. (weren't we all).
Good to know.
Wanna know how I got back?
The border patrol asked for my paper work and I didn't have it. They deported me. insert laughter here______________________
He told that dumb joke while touching my shoulder. My pet peeve is for people (particularly people I don't know) to touch with me without permission).
I might have to stop going out in public. *sigh*