THIRTEEN INSULTS FOR ANY OCCASION

(or, at least, one or two occasions...)

1. "You look like the vermin-ridden son of a bitch you are." John Wayne, The Cowboys

2. "Out of my sight, thou dost infect mine eyes!" Richard III

3. “You cheap, lying, no good, rotten, floor flushing, low life, snake licking, dirt eating, inbred, over-stuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fatass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spineless, worm-headed sack of monkey shit!” Chevy Chase, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

4. “I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty headed, animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!” Monty Python and the Holy Grail

5. "You are a senile, buck-toothed old mummy with bony girl arms and you smell like an elephant's butt!'' From Homer's letter to Mr. Burns on The Simpsons

6. "Dung heap!" From The Cowboys (followed by a solid whap with a cowboy hat in the bad guy's face--classic!)

7. "Damn her, lewd minx!" Othello

8. "You are just a suit." Meg Ryan, You've Got Mail

9. "...and you, miss, are no lady." Rhett Butler, Gone With The Wind

10. "You willy wivvered wouse!" Elmer Fudd

11. "I'd offer you some fruits or nuts, but I see you've got them on either side of you..." (don't remember the TV show; I think it might have been Simon&Simon--awesome insult to the bad guy's henchmen)

12. "You baskavich! You glob-singin hopsicklefifer!" Ralphie's dad, A Christmas Story (and I'm totally guessing on the spelling, there)

13. "...and don't think it hasn't been fun--'cause it hasn't!" Bugs Bunny

What's your favorite? Share! And feel free to spread the love today with a few choice insults of your own!

Poor Connie, Part I

Poor, poor Connie. I looked at all of her book covers I could find and they all had this one thread in common: scary, ugly-looking heroes on them (not to mention that peculiar hair-blowing-in-opposite-directions syndrome). Couldn't the art department afford Fabio, just once?

To wit:

and...

and...

I know, the picture quality isn't that great. But trust me, the fuzziness really does make them more attractive! Happy Monday!

Figured out how to paste Weird Al into my blog. It's not permanent, so enjoy it while it lasts!!!

THIRTEEN KICKASS (MORE OR LESS) BREAKUP SONGS

Oh, sure, I could fill up a blog with a bazillion sappy, syrupy oh my gawd I can't go on without you songs, but I'm more of a "you'll be sorry, idiot" kind of girl.

1. Death On Two Legs--Queen. Oh yeah.

2. Cry, Cry, Cry--Johnny Cash. This is just a cool song, period.

3. Stop Draggin' My Heart Around--Stevie Nicks/Tom Petty. Title pretty much says it all.

4. It Don't Hurt--Sheryl Crow. I love how she finally just burns the place down.

5. The Breakup Song--Greg Kihn Band. They just don't write 'em like that any more, folks.

6. It's All Right--Huey Lewis, et al. I can't remember the first group that did this song. But either way it totally rocks in that "you'll be soooorrrryyyy" kind of way.

7. Bye Bye Bye--Backstreet Boys. I'm no fan, but this particular song kicks ass.

8. Pretending--Eric Clapton. This is sort of the theme song for FS since pretending is his favorite verb lately.

9. Don't Come Around Here No More--Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Awesome.

10. Bittersweet Symphony--The Verve. I don't know if this is a breakup song or not, but it always gives me that feeling of "just keep on going."

11. Shot Through The Heart--Bon Jovi. "You give love a bad name." Classic.

12. Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love--Van Halen. Love those hard, charged guitar riffs.

13. Cry Me A River--Diana Krall. A song written after one of my favorite sayings. How much better could it get?

.

Got a favorite? Share! Want to burn me a disc(because I'm hopelessly not techno)? Cool!

.

May I ask a favor?

It's not much, just take a second of your time...

I need prayers, good vibes, positive waves, a few ohm's if you're so inclined.

Not just for my personal life which, as we all know, is in transition. Yeah, that's it. Transition.

But for my main goal of the moment, which is buying a house. I went house hunting, I got pre-approved... all that stuff. And I found a house that, the first second I saw it, I knew. I saw myself there, like a vision floating in front of my eyes.

(No, I'm not a crackpot. I've learned over the 40 years I've been on this earth to trust my instincts because most of the time they're spot on.)

The obstacle to my goal is this: the home is in foreclosure, and as of this minute apparently no one knows who exactly is responsible for it and who has the combination for the lock box so I can get inside and look around and I don't want to get busted for trespassing if I jump the fence to look in all the windows... it's complicated.

Yes, I've seen another house that is nice and probably affordable. But I don't want to make a decision in haste just because it's easier. I want to make the right decision--even if it takes longer and I'm stuck living with FS longer. I'm frustrated and worried and I just wish things would go my way. I've been asking God for guidance, praying for patience, trying to think positive all the time about it.

It's hard.

So, if you've got a hot second today (and tomorrow, and all week, and...) would you mind sending a good thought or two over here? I sure would be grateful.

Love and Breastfeeding

Since I've had oodles of "alone time" lately I've thought a lot about life, love and relationships. And I've come to the conclusion that a love relationship is alot like breastfeeding.

Now, I'm no expert on either of these things. In fact, I was an utter failure as a breastfeeder and Son had to get on the bottle (and yes, he grew into a happy, healthy, well adjusted child despite it all). But I did my research, had my experience, learned some stuff, got my diploma by correspondence in just six weeks for $199.99 plus shipping...

Anyhow, this is the theory:

In breastfeeding, the first object is to get the babe and the boob together. It's the same in love.

Once you get latched on, the milk starts to flow. Everything's copasetic.

In breastfeeding (so I learned) the first five minutes or so is all fat. Yummy, tasty fat, hooray! BUT. If you want the babe to be satisfied (not screeching like a banshee) for a few hours, you have to keep them on longer. The babe and the boob have to commit to a full session because the good stuff (proteins, etc.) comes at the end. That's what tides you over.

Love is the same. The first blush is all fat. Attraction, flirting, boinking like bunnies. Yummy, tasty fat, hooray! BUT. If you want the good stuff, you gotta commit. You gotta keep sucking it up if you want the protein that keeps you satisfied.

As in all things, the rewards are worth the wait.

Oh, The Weather Outside Is Frightful...

For the love of God, it's winter! Zip UP, not down, you idiot!

Alternate titles:

Baby Loves Frostbite.

Mom, Where The F*** Are My Mittens?

.

And, I gotta say that snowman is just plain wrong.

.

Happy Monday, all!

Friday, Friday

Judging by the total lack of comments on yesterday's post, I conclude that spewing venom on blogland is not a favorite. That's okay--I just needed to get the poison out.

It is amazing how much better you feel after "spewing." Now, ordinarily, I'm a nice person. I look for the good in others, keep my rude comments (mostly) to myself, am polite and have fine manners. Most of the time I am happy, I get along with everyone, and prefer keeping the peace to arguing. It's the water sign in me(I'm a Pisces, in case you wanted to know).

However I did learn a lesson after my marriage broke up 8 yrs. ago. Keeping the peace--meaning keeping your mouth shut most of the time--isn't always the best decision. Letting anger or grief or whatever negative emotion you may have simmer away inside eats away at you--like maggots--from the inside out. Every once in a while you need to let it out (in a civilized fashion of course, no going postal, no rape and pillage please) or you will be miserable.

So I allow myself to vent when I need to and I've been much more content ever since. The venting satisfies the fire sign in me (My rising sign is Aries--yikes!), and enables me to deal with all the daily "stuff" more effectively.

Anyhoo, I appreciate the venting opportunity yesterday (or, as Son likes to call it "Turning Into Exorcist Lady"). And now, back to our regularly scheduled program:

It's Friday! Friday Friday Friday!! The work week is winding down and a great majority of the planet goes out and parties. Me? Friday night is unwinding time. After Son and I get home from Tae Kwon Do, we just relax. I might have a drink, he slides into XBox Nirvana, or maybe we watch a movie and eat junk food. Whatever it is, it's usually good.

What do you do on Friday nights? How do you unwind?

THIRTEEN THINGS ABOUT THE FS (FORMER SWEETIE) THAT AGGRAVATE

Well, I had this post finished and published and went back to edit one tiny little thing... and Blogger decided to eat the post. So here it is (more or less) again:

It's amazing how perspective changes once a relationship ends and recrimination sets in. Still more amazing how those little things you put up with before turn into things that make you want to bash him one after.

1. He wants me to pay rent until Son and I move out. Plus half utilities. Okay, I have to pay all my own expenses, plus rent/utilites to him and SOMEHOW save money for a house at the same time.

.

2. He doesn't listen. Once he gets an idea in his head, he's done. Doesn't matter what you say or if you drag in a panel of experts, he still believes what he believes.

.

3. He acts like the last six years never existed. Like Son and I just showed up at his doorstep yesterday.

.

4. He is cynical and skeptical to a fault. Example: he asked the other day about my househunting progress. I started to tell him and wham! Those people are just ripping you off, they only want to make a profit, blah blah blah... like I am the stupidest rube to ever step on planet Earth.

.

5. He repeats himself. Did I mention he repeats himself? Like if he just keeps saying it you'll agree out of exhaustion or something. Oh, and did I mention he repeats himself?

.
6. He's sneaky. As in editing what he tells you, hiding stuff... not the kind of mystery you want to have in a relationship.

.

7. He portrays himself as Mr. Logical all the time. Mr. Spock's got nothing on this guy.

.

8. Asking a "yes or no" question never gets you a "yes or no" answer. Question: "Did the team win the game?" Answer: "Well, first there was this interception with ten seconds to go and then the ball went back to the 600 yard line and the tailback connected to the quarterback and..."

.

9. He lives in a "my actions/decisions affect no one but me" bubble. For example: Go out drinking with your buddies after work. Choose to do a bazillion shots of Jaegermeister because your "friends" keep saying "Come on, man, come on, man," and get so wasted you have to check into a hotel overnight. Don't call me or anything, either. Meanwhile I'm at home, worried to death that you're dead on the highway somewhere and I don't sleep all night. Then when you come home, sidestep the real issue and keep repeating yourself about how "responsible" you were for checking into a hotel.

.
10. He likes to pretend that everything is just fine. Like that movie "50 First Dates", it's like he reboots every night when he's asleep.

.

11. He wants to be 25 forever. I have nothing against being active and having fun--but you can have fun and be a grown-up, too.

.

12. He really believes that living life on the surface is okay. Like, don't get involved, don't examine your conscience, don't pursue deeper intimacy... just have fun! Fun fun fun!!!

.

13. "I'm sorry that you're upset." Okay, you want to upset me? Tell me that. Redirect the issue and make it MY problem. I LOVE THAT.

.

I promise I'll have a nicer, more FUN Thursday Thirteen next week.

Exposing Myself Over Here

I don't have a title yet; but it keeps bugging at me to write it down. Read away!

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

The intercom buzzed. Mary put down the contract papers and punched it. “Yes?”
“A Mr. Gabriel to see you, Ms. Parks.”
She sighed. Another one shuffling in for a free consult. “I really need to finish these contracts, Sandra.” She heard a brief murmur through the intercom and her secretary said in a buoyant tone, “He says his business will only take a few minutes.”
Mary mentally counted to ten. They all said that, then proceeded to talk for hours. “Send him in.” She tucked the contract back into its folder and pushed away from the desk.
Before her door opened she gave a quick glance over the office. Bookcase was neat, desk looked organized… a professional, get-to-the-point impression.
“Mr. Gabriel,” her secretary said, ushering the man in.
Mary was taken aback. The man was quite tall and wore a severe black suit, but that wasn’t what had startled her. A mane of brilliant white hair fell past his shoulders, and from his pale face brilliant blue eyes glittered. She went to him, offering her hand.
“Mr. Gabriel. Come in. I’m Mary Parks.”
“Pleased to meet you at last, Mary,” he said. She offered him a chair, ignoring his familiarity for the moment. At last?
“What can I do for you?” she asked him.
He handed her a business card. “I’m not here for legal advice.”
“I beg your pardon?” She looked at it: Archangel Gabriel, Messenger of God was all it said. “What is this?”
“My card.” He stated the obvious. “It is time, Mary. Your time.”
“My time for what?”
“To save the world.”
She looked at him, confused. “Mr. Gabriel, I may be known in legal circles as ‘Saint Mary’, but I’m no savior. I’m just an attorney who believes that helping people shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg. I think you’ve got the wrong woman.”
“You’re the right woman. God doesn’t make mistakes.”
She huffed. “Seriously, who are you? Who sent you here? Was it Markham and Lynch? They’re always trying to pull something on me.”
“God sent me,” he said, a patient, pitying smile on his face. “I am his messenger. You--”
She stood. “Mr. Gabriel, this has gone far enough. I am not amused. You need to leave, now, or I will have my secretary call the police.”
“Sandra won’t answer,” he said. “She’s been waiting for this all her life. Please sit down, Mary. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to bring you wonderful news. You are the chosen one. The child growing within you will save mankind.”
She laughed at him. “Now I know this is a joke. For your information, Mr. Gabriel, I haven’t had sex in six months. And even if I had, I can’t have children. I tried everything and nothing worked. The doctor said there was no hope--”
“It wasn’t yet your time.”
“I’m thirty-eight. It’s almost past my time.”
He dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “Do you remember when you were nine years old, lying in the grass on the tenth of June and you saw an angel in the clouds?”
She remembered.
It had been one of the most beautiful days of the summer, not too hot yet and she had been making the passing clouds into shapes in her fanciful young mind. And suddenly she had seen what she thought was an angel with huge white wings.
“I came to look upon you. God told me you were to be the one. You waved at me before you went into the house.”
“And you waved back…” The office tilted slightly and she slumped back in her chair. Her body went hot, then ice cold and she pressed a hand to her head. She had never spoken of that moment to anyone. How did he know? She looked at him again, so pale except for those blue, blue eyes, visible even from the clouds.
He knew because he had been there.
“If—“ she swallowed, “if you’re an angel, prove it. Where are your wings? Where is the glory of God surrounding you?”
“It’s still here. You’ve turned into such a pragmatist over the years that He felt you might respond better to a man in a suit. But I can change if you’d like.”
She nodded, still hanging onto a last shred of disbelief.
Gabriel stood and stepped back from the desk, raised his long arms heavenward and murmured an incantation in an ancient language. A rushing, roaring sound filled her ears, and her office disappeared into blinding white as his suit rippled against his body then melted away to his heavenly raiment. His hair grew even longer, his body lengthened until his head touched where her ceiling had been. His wings pushed from his back, arching and ruffling and sweeping the floor either side of him. Mary hung onto the arms of her chair for dear life, gasping for air. I’ve heard of people dying of fright, she thought. This must be what it feels like.
“Now do you believe what you see?” he asked, his voice echoing.
She managed a yes, nearly hyperventilating.
“Then attend what I say, Mary Parks. I am the Archangel Gabriel, Messenger of God. You are His chosen one. Your child will come nine months hence, and that child will battle the darkness of this world to save mankind from eternal damnation. The time of judgment is coming. The Devil’s minions are closing in. Your unborn child is in peril. You must make ready.”
She heard herself saying “I will make ready” then Gabriel stood again before her in the black suit, smiling that strange, patient smile. He nodded once then left her.
Mary looked around her office. The walls and ceiling still stood. Every book was in place, every magazine just so. Just like a dream, or something.
A faint, gurgling shift deep within drew her attention.
It was the child. Her child, the savior of mankind.
She burst into tears.

...to be continued...

Distractions, distractions

I'm not sure when those nice folks in the art department decided that a steamy embrace and the odd castle or tree weren't enough to capture the reader's interest. I'm a straightforward girl: give me half- or mostly-naked hunks sweeping a scantily-clad heroine off her feet and I'm good. But for those who prefer clutter I present:

A sundial. Aside from maybe she's going to be sacrificed at high noon, I have no answers. Ideas? Suggestions? Random giggling?

A flock of seagulls. The dude's headband hairstyle kind of reminds me of a band by the same name...

A ginormous pocket watch. No wonder he's got muscles on his muscles if he's dragging that anchor around all day.

And a cute little cherub. Cute in an icky way, at least. And that hero isn't much better.

Happy Monday, all!

One Month

Today is the day; one month since Former-Sweetheart called it quits on us.

I'm pretty focused on keeping myself together and moving on. I'm looking for a house, saving my money, walking the dog, hanging out with Son, doing my usual stuff.

But I'm cold inside. There's a bleak, frozen, windswept nothing where Love used to be. Questions, the same questions I asked a month ago and never got a straight answer to, hang like a stone around my neck. Most days I accept the weight and soldier on; most days I understand that I will likely never get an answer, that there probably isn't one.

And then there are days like today, when memories come calling and realizations hit full on when you least expect it. Like when I removed the sailing club sticker from my car window this afternoon and replaced it with a skate park one that Son gave me. I loved sailing. It was intimate and exciting and truly lovely and bonding for FS and I. He says we'll still go, but I have my doubts. And unless I meet someone else who sails, I may never go again.

And there are the dreams. Dreams of lying in his arms, dreams of touching him again, dreams that feel so vivid and real. Dreams that make me hope, deep down in the bottom-left drawer of my heart, that he'll come home tonight and say, "I made a mistake." "I still love you." "I want to try." And he comes home and nothing happens and he's so obviously content with the new status quo that I want to pound him flat for being so disaffected, so neutral, so... gone.

I know it won't be like this forever. But some days I wish I could make time hurry up.

THIRTEEN THINGS OVERHEARD IN PUBLIC

Thanks to cell phones, coffee clatches, mommy & me and all those other public meetings, the most amazing things come out of people's mouths--and sadly, they don't seem to care that they just exposed their privacy for the whole world to enjoy.

1. "Well, my nipples got all cracked and infected and I couldn't nurse her any more."

2. "I'm just going to have to take that $50,000 out of the business account..."

3. "Oh, my God, I would never get my clit pierced."

4. "I know the roof is leaking, but I'm not telling anyone. I'll just paint over the spot."

5. "My boss is sooo stupid."

6. "I was in labor for fifteen hours and I totally tore when his head came out."

7. "I made out with Scott at that party but I never told Jen."

8. "She's such a bitch. Don't tell her I said that, though."

9. "Then he said he wanted to do me from behind..."

10. "My implant won't move down like it's supposed to..."

11. "...and when I came downstairs, he had his diaper off and there was poo on the floor!"

12. "I don't know how everybody found out about it."

13. "Her husband felt me up at the Christmas party."

.

What's the craziest thing you've heard in public lately? Share!

Accountability

I've decided that in order to keep myself going, I needed a report card (more or less). So I added yet another item to my sidebar: Progress Report. It is my goal to increase the numbers there on a daily basis.

Keep your fingers crossed!

First Page Paralysis

I stopped writing last year--wait, no, I went on hiatus, that's it--

Anyhow, it is the new year. Full of new challenges, new promises, new dilemmas, new fears, new hopes... blah blah blah.

And new problems. Like, I need to start writing again. And inevitably: where do I start? What do I say? Which project should I pick up again--or should I start fresh from a whole new angle?

Should I just throw out/delete all my past work? (the temptation is great.) Should I go through all the old stuff and only keep what I like best? (this could take time.) Should I try something I haven't before? (fantasy, mystery, erotica...) Should I try and write some articles? (I always have longed to be a columnist, writing a thousand words about...anything. fun! scary! different!)

Or should I just shut up here and get to work already?

Decisions, decisions...

"Not Tonight, Honey... "

"Man, I could really go for some tea and crumpets! Or maybe a haunch of buffalo! Why doesn't he shut up already?"

Rebel's charms apparently don't extend to keeping Rogue awake...

"I'm far more interested in my roses than in you sucking my eyebrow. Sorry..."


"I'll just stand here like a mannequin. That'll turn him on!"

"You are wrinkling my gown with your clumsy man hand! Get... it...OFF!"

"Sigh... the old kiss-on-the-jaw trick... could he be any less imaginative?"

.

Happy Monday, all!

THIRTEEN NEW YEAR'S AFFIRMATIONS
.
2007 wasn't my best year by a long shot. It was a rough ride and I got bounced out of the cart at the end of it all. And even though 2008 looks to be a toughie, I cannot, must not, and simply refuse to give in to the negative. So, in the spirit of Spirit, I decided that this year I need a few positive statements to go along with my standard resolutions:
.

1. The end of the road isn't the end of the world.

2. I can learn valuable future lessons from current heartaches.

3. I have many blessings in my life, and so much to be thankful for every day.

4. Exercise will not only make me stronger, it will keep me younger.

5. I am one hoxy chick. (See Vocabulary Words on sidebar.)

6. They're laugh lines, not wrinkles.

7. They're platinum highlights, and they are fabulous.

8. Focusing on what I have will get me farther than obsessing over what I don't.

9. I am worthwhile.

10. I am creative, imaginative, and capable.

11. Some stuff can't be fixed or understood.

12. Life is to be lived, and it is always worth living.

13. Everything will be okay.

.

Do you have any New Year's affirmations? Share them here!