Rarely

Sometimes she takes it a little too far

Yesterday I stunned the world with the nicest most interesting legs I have had in a long time. How so? Well, let me tell you. I wore bright hot pink tights and then I wore black fishnets over them. I wore my mary jane ballet slipper flats and a swooshy skirt that was accented by a ribbon. Oh my. People could not stop staring at me all day and I received many many compliments. That is always good for the good self esteem. I also received a free lunch of which I spilled on my luscious blouse. Just because we look good does not mean we are not still human. I wish I could make that flickr thing work and had a digital camera because damn, it was that good.

Anyway, on to other less interesting topics that the hotness of my skinny legs ... um.

The littlest birds sing the prettiest songs.

Today was the last day of the bodaciously bottomed girl I replaced. I will no longer be able to look at the curve of her nose. I was, however, able to meet her sister and say that it is definitely her that won out on the genes. I think many people would disagree, but not I. I know. She cried. Not because I would no longer be staring at her, but because she would miss the place and the people there. She had been there for 5 years. I got to scam 2 free lunches out of her leaving. Yum!

She leaves me to handle a million details, all of which I have no idea. Ha ha! I hope the place doesn't burn down around my ears. Today I set off the alarm system.

My dog is enjoying the outrageously expensive and well-worth it doggy day care. She comes home all ruffled and tired and is so happy at being able to play and just be a dog covered in other dog's slobber. I am only paid until April 7th. After that she gets to sit in my car. In probably the heat and die. Yay. I am looking forward to that. Yesterday, apparently, my dog did not have a good time in doggy day care and had to have a time out. Yes, my dog needed a time out. My dog. My dog is that bad that she needed to be put in a corner for a time out. Apparently, there is another dog there that is that bad and has to have time outs often and is actually just about to be requested not to come back. You would think since his owners can afford a brand new mercedes that they could afford some dog training or behaviouralist sessions. Maybe not!

Well it's time like this I feel so small and
walk like a rambling footsteps of a wandering child
and I'm lonesome as a lonesome whipperwill
singing these blues like a ...

but I'm not too blue to fly
no I'm not too blue to fly

I am not reading a very good book lately. I have been making a habit of only reading books recommended to me by people who read good books, so I haven't encountered anything like this in such a long time that it was a shock that it is so bad and doesn't make sense and is just stupid. Of course, since I have nothing else to read at the moment and I keep going to bed at 9, I have to have something to read. Help me.

Always

She doesn't know why but she knows it the truth

I am so tired. I came home from work today and ate a chocolate bunny (with rice krispies in it) to convince myself that I am craving chocolate and therefore pre-menstrual. I must be. Booba are sore and doing that growing thing, although I still haven't had to put a bra on so it isn't so bad, is it? I mean, the bra's I own are cute and nice but the tanks tops with the bra's built in are just more functional and they are cute too. I have been told to keep wearing them, they don't have very good nipple coverage and apparently I have responsive nipples. Yes, I know. That falls into too much information but I am so tired and can't think so what can one do?

I got the wanderin' blues

Let's see, something that happened that was amusing lately ... you know, ever since I stopped hanging out at home and started working and associating with people, my life is way less amusing.

Today, Xerox Man (not to be confused with Ricoh man, who is puny and we hate for locking us into a crappy expensive lease) came in with his super hero suit which consisted of a very dark tan, super coiffed hair (to withstand all that wind that comes with going faster than a 100 page document through the feeder), a way formal suit, and huge cufflinks. Cufflinks so huge I noticed them. To repel all those staples being pulled? I don't know. Anyway, with his super-human powers in our office, I was soon sent to find the lease which of course, is NO WHERE. Such a super hero, making me search for hours through smelly filing cabinets through warranties put in plastic baggies (????) and take out my appointment book and write down a future appointment where I will have the recovered lease.

I also ate bad ham today. Oh ho Muss! You don't eat pork or processed meats! What has happened to you? Well, let me tell you. Hours of headache and tummy torture happened to me. I am off the smoked meats again. Such a short venture too!

Seldom

Warm, wet, and salty on her body or arms

They like me! They really like me! I have no idea why. They have asked me to extend how long I will stay at work by a week, and now are scheming to see how I can stay. "What if we built your dog a kennel here!" uh, okay, but I still need a new place to live with a yard, "We'll ask around, see what we can do!" uh, okay, but it needs to be affordable since you pay me A PITTANCE. "You will make lots of money in the summer, there are lots of opportunities" uh, okay, but I never did want to work 7 days a week just to be able to live. "We know you have a teaching job in September, but it is just so busy in the summer." uh, okay, but I only know about 1/3 of the job right now. Seriously, I only do about 1/3 of the job, if that, there is only a 3 more days until the other leaves and I have to learn billing and month end. They just fired the accountant, so I will be picking up some slack there too.
But they like me.
My roommate says I look professional. I think I just about got asked on 'a date' today. He presented himself at my workplace when he really had no reason to be there, all shiny and clean. I avoided it a bit by keeping working and being busy, but really I was working and busy because it was a little hectic today after this holiday weekend. Then I turned the subject around by commenting on the attractiveness and availability of another woman, which he agreed with. Then he left. Intimidating. I guess I am that too.

On the other hand, I have just lost (o the anguish, o the horror) a friend. A friend of 10 years. A friend of over 10 years. Because I wouldn't sleep with him. I can't believe how angry this makes me. Had I given in and slept with him, and tried to ignore advances and then given in and performed some kind of sexual act with resentment and faking some feeling so he would feel good we would still be friends but because I am honest and know who and what I want (and it wasn't him) then I am not worthy to be talked to. I have hurt his pride. I have hurt his feelings. I am so pissed at the thought that the whole friendship was based on that he thought he could have me whenever he wanted. He was friends with my parents too, and when they ask how he is and I tell them I don't know because he isn't speaking to me anymore and tell them why, they will be shocked. I still spoke to him after he decided to stop speaking to me for a month and probably sleep with someone else when he was only supposed to be with me. Why would I? At this point, I would have to say, I have no idea, but then I would say because of the circumstances and the 10 year friendship. But apparently, not getting off is a reason to end the friendship so I wish I had ended it with that instead.
o anger.
o ire

Often

She loves blood on her lips, on her toes, on her fingers

I am listening currently to a cute and up-beat song. I am enjoying it. It is by 'The Be Good Tanyas' (pronounced tonia's, not tanya's which is annoying to me) and was recently featured on a Zellers commercial, which makes it suck in my mind, yet I am still enjoying it in a weird way.
Called, 'The Littlest Birds'.

I encourage you to listen to it from whatever music thing you have. It isn't hard to find, especially with its new-found fame.So cheerful in beat, but the words make me so sad. It has created such an ache in my chest that I feel like carving my heart out to let the pressure off.
Well I love you so dearly
I love you so fearlessly
Wake you up in the mornin' so early
Just to tell you I got the wanderin' blues
I got the wanderin' blues
And I don't wanna leave you
I love you through and through
It makes me so heavy that I can't even sit up straight.

Everyone has found out at my work that I am leaving, but they are confused about when. Some think in September, so I have to go and tell everyone my story, and exclaim, when I come to the part about how much the doggy day care costs, "And it is only for a DOG! She's not even a kid."
I don't care if the sun don't shine
I don't care if lover is mine
I don't care if I'm lovers with you
I'll do my lover ...
They are all sympathetic. One even said, "But I was going to ask you on a date!" I laughed.
I was fair as a summer day
Now the summer day is through
You pass through places
And places pass through you
You carry them with you on the soles of your travellin' shoes
I keep checking the life line on my hand, and it hasn't changed in a while, since I came down here and it lengthened.
I left my baby on a pretty blue train
And I sang my song through the cold and the rain
I have the wanderin' blues
And I sang those wanderin' blues.
I have a scar on my back in the shape of a sun but I am neglecting it.

Haven't told you Lately

So, I have been neglecting my socks and panties over the past little while. I didn't mean to! I think I was also worn out from the beginning of the month with the heat and all. The tear has finally just healed (and I will keep my fingers crossed on that too). I have also just been so busy and tired. Fear not!

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... (drool) .... you can't not like these.

Also, I like these, very nice and these are cute and fun.

O, I am just window shopping. But it is nice to look ...

Oh god, I just found out that I am being hopelessly trendy and even a little far behind. These were FALL styles. Good thing I don't really care about these kind of things.

And while you are at it, check this out. What the f?

And while you're at it ... why not?

Bodacious Butt

I think I have found out the secret to the butt. I have only worked with her for 8 days, but on each day she has had some frappaccino concoction from Starbucks, some deep-fried food from the bar, and multiple glasses of pop. I am scared to think of what the butt is soon to turn into too with such an onslaught.
Speaking of butts, I have been getting a few comments on mine lately. I am thin (the thinnest since high school) and the butt is skin and bones, but still a bit shapely. I guess with just skin and bones there is no room for cellulite.
I have quit my job and am moving back home. It is kind of funny that I will go less into debt not working in PG until September than working down here until then. I had to put my dog into doggy day care after a door frame eating incident and that is very expensive. And it is just a dog. How do people afford kids?
What am I going to do in such a small place for 5 months, a place of high unemployment and multiple job lay-offs in the teaching sector as well as small town attitudes and a love of thinking inside the box? Well, I don't know. Actually I do. I am going to volunteer, go through my stuff to get rid of it, hopefully fix up my parent's basement a bit, help my mother get my grandmother's house ready to sell, take my dog for long walks, visit family, take guitar lessons, find someone to speak Spanish with (to keep what I have left and hopefully improve), eat well-ish, do yoga 5 times a week, start seeing people to earn my Bio-Kinesionics certificate, and spend a lot of time by myself. I also have got a book in my head, and once I have a book in my head, it has to get out. How will I support myself? That is still unknown. I am hoping that I can do some tutoring or babysitting of special needs kids (which pays a lot more and it is hard to find people to babysit special needs kids). Maybe even sell my car if I need to. I won't have a problem doing that up there. I can walk, ride my bike, or use my mom's vehicle (if I really need to) to get around.
I will be able to see my cats, my dogs, and be good.
It doesn't feel bad. It feels like what I should be doing.
I feel like I am starting a pilgrimage. If only I could walk home.

You just can't win

And the stupid thing about it is that it isn't even about winning. It is just about trying to do the best you can for yourself based on your own criteria. My criteria are pretty minimum based on other people's. I don't want fancy cars, clothes, jewellry or anything like that. I want to be able to sustain myself. You know, with food. Not even fancy food. I am quite content to eat minimally on simple food. Lentils are staples in my diet, along with other dried legumes. I rarely eat meat. I eat cheaper locally grown vegetables and though I would love to buy organic, I cannot afford to. I wish to feed my dog. I don't want her to eat parts of other pets or the leftover by-products that they get when they make processed people food. I want to be able to care for her, which means I have a car to transport her around as the transit system here doesn't allow animals of her size on. I want this knot in my chest to leave to I can breath and sleep and eat the frugal and simple food I prepare. I want to have a place to live too. It is only 5 months until I can do all these things, but I don't even know how I can make it those 5 months. Can one live for 5 months with no food, no place to live, and a dog to care for? I guess so, many homeless (too many) are doing it each and every day. Do I join them?
Oh how melodramatic!
Go fucking live with your mother already.

The View of Broken

Today.
I was driving to work with my dog in the car, the dog who cut herself up and ate the wall and can't be left alone, to swelter her life in the hot interior all day because I am horrible.
It takes me a half hour to get to work, I am so driven by this job that I will take 30 minutes from my life twice a day to get there and back.
I went through a green light and saw a huge truck come into my lane, going to crush me, going to push me into oncoming traffic, slam on the breaks to avoid this, if I hadn't been running about 5 minutes late I would have followed him to find out his company name and complain.
I stopped at a red light.
I looked in my rear view mirror.
I saw a woman with the skin falling off her face, with sadness and a life not lived in her eyes, her empty eyes, so descriptive of her misery of living her whole life just as I was living my life now.

.

Death is me and death I am. The flow is fantastic and I am wiped out. I quell and wish befondle was a word. What do they call that space before your brain wears out and your thoughts are higher than kites? Two days of blood. Two days of sick. Two days of worry and wasting and bitch. And now more things I cannot handle. The scale goes tither and whither and wastes away, disused and forgotten on a sunny day. Perhaps I feel that until I work it out I will be okay but that is not to be. Not made for here, not made for there, in the endless gorge (and gorge I did). What grief is this that brings us down so much? It is the one thing we never asked for, the chance event in an 8 hour gap with only a few million to choose from. It's not been my request so give me the one thing I do ask. Give me normal.
No longer the shining light, no longer floating above.
It is hard to watch everything crumble when you try it.

Maybe Worms?

You know what? I eat. So there, I am just like this. But today, well, I think something is wrong because this is what I ate:
Breakfast: 5 pancakes and 1 egg
Lunch: 6 pancakes and 1 egg (I still felt like pancakes)
Snack: 1/2 can toffee coated peanuts, 1/3 bag tortilla chips + salsa
Dinner: 1 pot of stew (yes, I made a pot of stew from scratch and I ate the whole bloody thing this was over 1 kg of meat plus all the other stew stuff).
It is only 8 o'clock. Who knows what the rest of the day's gorging will bring. No wonder I can't afford to feed myself.

Den of Debauchery

So I have survived my first week of number crunching, paper pushing, mouldy trailer sitting work. I must say, the job does not look to be that challenging. That is okay, I am not looking for a challenge. I am looking for a pay cheque. Ha! And that is the funny part. The amount I am getting paid. Oh well.
People are worried about me being able to handle the position. "Muss, what do you think so far? Are you going to be able to pick it up?" I am asked several times a day. I answer, "Well, so far so good, but I'll have to see how it goes. I haven't really done too much yet." I say this so they don't get an inclining into the prowness of my monster brain. HA HA! No, not really. But looking at the other staff, the early 20's just need money to buy the next round of beer show up to work hung-over and not being able to tell left from right, I think I can handle it. So far anyway. I take the numbers, enter them in the proper place in the accounting formats, and move them along. When they don't add up, I figure out why they don't and fix it. Oh, and I answer the phone in a pleasant manner and direct calls. Also, I count a lot of money. This is the bad part. I am not too good at this kind of thing, meaning my accuracy is not the greatest. It goes back to school where I wasn't too hot at math until we were allowed to use calculators and there were less numbers and more other things, then I could do it. The little details just aren't that fun I guess. Plus money is dirty. Yuck. So I want to wash my hands all the time. This involves me leaving the trailer (AND THE PHONE FOR CHRIST'S SAKE) and going into the main building, washing my hands and coming back. Other people can have smoke breaks, I have hand-washing breaks. My hands are getting all old looking, chapped and red. Cuticles suck too.
I have been talking to people, the friend whose brother was hired the same time I was for the same reasons (needed a job NOW and was bored) and him, and we cannot understand why people work at this job and for so long. Like years and years. And driving a 35 to 45 minute commute each way, on a highway, so it really is quite far. The pay sucks. The people working there keep saying it is like family out there and the people are great. Oh my. Being in the office trailer (how high class the falling apart trailer is at the country club, I may add) everyone passes through at some time or another and everyone talks about everyone else. Quite severely. It is unbelievable. Then you see them talking all nice to each other, right after they just dissed that person's existence. And they gossip. About who is sleeping with who, the cheating, the lies, it is crazy. I have been out of the loop for so long that this is really a shock to my system. The closest thing I can relate this to is high school or early 20's small town life, but both times I was out of the loop. By out of the loop, I mean I didn't really associate too closely who were doing these kinds of things. I think it was self-preservation because I am a very trusting person and I knew that these kind of people, if they would do that to the persons they are closest to, why wouldn't they screw me over too? I don't know if I can work in that environment. I really don't. I am already thinking constantly about watching my back and not really talking to anyone lest anything get out that can and will be used against me at some future date.

Listen to me people

There are those of you who know I know and I know a lot of stuff. You also know I do not lie and if I don't know something I will tell you. If I am unsure about something, I say "I think" and let you make up your own mind, but, BUT there are things I know I know. These are things that come from research, critical thought, and talking to a lot of people. So far, the research, when it catches up with me, always prove I am right as well, so when I tell you MILK IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU, believe me. Western science is finally admitting this may be true as well. Also bad, microwaves. I have been a vocal opponent of the beasts since 1996, but only recently has science started to back me up with this as well (I can't find the studies that show that they reduce (my words -> destroy) the vitamins in food, turn the fats into the trans-fatty acid, and are a hazard to be around, but trust me. This I know. The other thing I know I know is fluoride. People, don't use it, don't drink it, don't rinse with it, don't brush your teeth with it. Stay away from it. Seriously. When they ask you what flavour at the dental office, say none. They will look at you weird, as they have been brain-washed since entry into the program, but stick to your guns! If you live in a municipality that fluoridates the water, GET OUT. Really. Move. It is that serious. Even if you drink bottled water, and cook with bottled water, you are still getting it through your showers, baths, clothes, vegetables you buy from the store (sprayed with the town water). I seriously consider this when I decide what city I want to live in.

Moving on to a somewhat related but not at all topic (one I have just been waiting to write about since it came up at dinner about a month and a half ago): transportation, Star Trek style. While everyone wants to be 'beamed up' I just don't think it is a possibility. You are basically disassembling someone and re-assembling them someplace else. They are two ways to look at this, breaking down the molecules so there is less friction on them and they can move similarly to a stream of energy or re-assembling the person from molecules already around (like how they get their food). I have no idea about how they would do the first way, as I didn't do much in the way of physics, but I know my molecules. To disassemble someone's molecules would basically be murdering them each time. Really. The amount of memory needed for something to know every ion, molecule, configuration, and placement would be astronomical. Seriously. Think of a beach. Think of all the grains of sand on the beach. Think of one grain of sand. That one grain of sand has more individual atoms in it then there is sand on the beach. So, if in fact, something can remember that amount of data and then re-assemble it somewhere, you are basically re-building the person. This leads into discussion of the soul. If there is a soul, I don't think it is made of molecules and can be re-built. Also, this could lead to wide-scale cloning. Why only re-assemble one Jean Luc Picard? He is so hot, why not do 15? Or more, the molecules and placement are all on memory, so keep popping them out.

Oh, yeah, my shift at work got cancelled today. In case I am sick, I don't want to go out and about and infect other people (although work people and customers are fine?), so here I am, eating homemade soup and writing and writing. I think I should while I am able.

I am sick

Okay. I will now admit it. This dizzy thing, well, it's not good. I am most definitely sick with something. I don't know what. Something that makes one dizzy and sick apparently. The dizzyness is affecting my fingers too, and the number of typos in my stuff has rapidly increased.

I have some questions though, from my being sick spot. I just found out I have been preliminarily (is that even a word, who knows) accepted into the Yukon education system (I will go back and change this place name later). This means I can apply for Yukon teaching jobs. While I love the idea of the Yukon (wilderness, yet some civilization, mountains, water) and the idea of having employment, do I really want to move to the middle of nowhere again? This will be different because it will most likely be in a community that I could make my own. But, it will be away from everyone I know and a new start for my life. I will be going alone and will most likely stay there for years, if not forever. I don't have to decide on this now, because I haven't even applied for specific jobs or accepted anything, but still. I guess I should start thinking about it while trying to maintain my seat on this chair (listing to and fro I am).

The Room is Spinning

I don't know what happened to me over last night but I can't seem to maintain my balance. I'm walking into walls, losing my balance, falling on the floor. Also, the room is continually spinning around and around and I kind of want it to stop.

Yesterday I cancelled my order for $550 worth of lingerie and sex toys. I have decided I don't really want to be involved in some kind of pyramid scheme (which, of course, is not a pyramid scheme) and besides, isn't paying rent and eating more important than sex? I was also concerned that it could potentially get around when I was teaching again, and I could lose my job (you know, the one I don't have) over it. Enough said. I thought it would be interesting to amuse my friends with this kind of stuff but when the lady talked to me more and was already starting to push me to SELL, I decided it wasn't the thing for me. I am not in sales for a reason. I was not into having a sex toy business so I do not and most likely will not. It was going to take up way too much time.

Two things: I hate pancakes and cinnamon. Lately I have wanted nothing more than pancakes and apple pie. I wanted pancakes so bad that yesterday at work I ate crackers with butter on them dipped in pancake syrup. It didn't help that the special in the coffee shop (where I had to walk past but was of course closed because it was the evening) was eggs, bacon, and two blueberry pancakes. I haven't managed to get some apple pie in a while, but I really really want it.

I'm sure that this post could be more interesting, and in fact, I kind of had it in my head to be a bit more interesting, but looking at the computer screen is making me ill.

Damn dizzyness.

Did You Know?

I would have to drink 321.64 cans of Barq's Root Beer to kill myself, but I would only have to drink 294.84 cans of Green Tea with Lemon to kill myself. Good to know.

Do you want to know how much it would take to kill yourself?

In other words, I have started my full-time job and apparently I mostly won't be a bar-wench. I will mostly be an office-wench. Currently I am being trained by a very nice girl who has the most bewitching ass. I don't know what it is about it that is so bewitching, but I can't stop looking at it all the time. I even look at it while she is sitting down and I am sitting across the desk from her supposedly learning the accounting system they use. It is an ample ass, and doesn't really fit with the rest of her body, but it isn't outrageous or anything. I find myself wondering about how she got such an ass, when I am supposed to be making glorious clip-art notices for brunch (just how much did I get praised for downloading a picture from microsoft office and putting it on a word document with some writing, you won't even believe it if I tell you. People were coming up to me all day to remark on how good it looked. Yeah. I know). Tomorrow I get to work in the bar again and I won't get to see that ass ... I mean girl once. I won't get to see it until Thursday. This girl also has quite an attractive curve to her nose. I mean, I spend the whole day across a desk from her ... actually, thinking about it, we kind of sit oddly. She sits on the one side of the desk facing the computer screen and I sit on the other side of the desk facing 180 degrees from the way she is facing and then I twist around to look at the computer screen. Obviously it is more comfortable to twist 90 degrees than 180, so I spend a lot of time looking at her profile. I have never really noticed anyone else's nose curve before, so hers must be pretty special. Her hair is a nice shade too.

Oh, and she is leaving to go to Ontario to go back to school and live with her boyfriend.

More and more

I have been doing yoga pretty regularly lately and have advanced in my core strengthening postures. My core muscles are getting fairly strong. I am able to stay in the yoga headstand for as long as I want, or I was able to. Lately, a strange thing has been happening while I do my headstand (and shoulder stand, although not as much) postures. My legs and torso seem to having a life of their own and are twisting around in all sorts of new and sometimes frightening positions. I could stop it but I know what is going on so I don't want to. My legs most frequently want to bend back over my head, which disrupts my balance, so I have to stick my chest out to compensate and end up really bent over backwards. I can stay like this for quite some time, but eventually my arms get tired of holding me in a balance and I fall out. I look something like this, except with my head still on the ground. I need someone to spot me so I don't break my neck, but no one is ever around. I also bend side to side. It is probably quite scary to watch my body contort to all these positions seemingly of its own violation.

Eh hem.

I just spent $550 on sex toys and lingerie. I don't have this money, but this is besides the point. Actually, I so don't have this money that I considered not buying dog food because I spent this money. Dog starve.
What am I doing? Okay. Breath in. It was an incredibley good "deal." Breath out. I don't know. But I am going to sell sex toys and lingerie apparently. "I'm going into business for myself." ha ha. I would rather be a certified bio-kinesionics practioner.

Sad

Today I am not wearing cute or sexy panties. In fact, I just realized I don't even have them on right. No, the ones I am wearing are not backwards, or inside out. I have one of the leg holes around my waist and the waist hole around one leg. I just noticed when I went to the washroom. Go me!

Absurd

The other night I had a weird dream. I know my dreams are usually weird to other people and my weird dreams are really weird to people, but this one is beyond weird, even for me. So if you don't want to read about my weird dream, don't read this. I had this dream about 3 days ago and told a few people about it. Usually that is enough to get dreams to fade. I can still see all the colours and remember how things felt. It was unusually vivid as well.

So I was dropping off a friend to go fly to a school related conference and I had my dog with me. We were being a little bit cuddly (which would never happen, especially when in a professional life circumstance). It turned out that I was going to get to come too, even though I am not currently involved in such things. I protested because of my dog, she needs drugs to be able to fly and cannot fly commercial planes. This plane was small and I saw they had dog crates so I loaded her in one and got in the plane and I guess I was going to see how it went and if she freaked out too much I would not go. I sat near my friend beside the window and continued to be cuddly close with him. I then saw them put the dog crate at the wing and I was concerned because flying outside of the plane on the wing was going to freak the hell out of my dog. My friend assured me it would be okay, and we took off.

The plane was very quiet, it was a gliding type of plane, and of an odd shape, fairly wide but short.

A lot of people didn't make it on the plane when we boarded and my dog had gotten out of her crate and was running around. I was looking at them out the window when the plane stopped and people (and my dog) began walking up and around the clouds to come to the plane. My dog loved running in the clouds. She was then allowed to ride in the plane.

We kept flying and were talking about something when we came to a mountain that looked like a very wide ski jump. It became apparent we were going to have to land on this to re-take off so we could glide more. A 747 had already come by and used one of its wings to push some of the snow down/off so we could do this. My friend encouraged me to go to the front of the plane (maybe it was even on the front of the plane) because it was going to be the closest I ever came to free-flying. So I did and started the plane moving. It was like calmly going down a ski jump, it was very quiet and I thought I should be cold, but I wasn't (maybe I was in the plane then). The plane slid down and took off, but whatever was supposed to catch, didn't really and we started to glide down. I could see the trees getting closer and closer until I touched them. I went back and sat with my friend and told him that it was like flying.

We landed shortly after that to change planes and meet up with other people who were going to this conference in Switzerland. We were at what would classically be a fairy-tale-ish medieval castle. My friend decided he needed to use the washroom and went. I decided to as well, but I realized my mother lived there (yes, in the airport) and she had a room that she was always in. I went and looked at the room. It was stone and had a TV and a chair/couch thing for her to sit on and watch TV. It had no windows and she wasn't there. I continued to go to the washroom and I ran into my old boss and someone else losely associated with that area (if there was a conference he would not be going).

In the women's washroom were two Ethopian boys who were taking turns laying down on the floor and rubbing their fronts on it to masturbate. I wondered why they were in the women's washroom but continued into a stall. When I came out they were still there and were pushily asking me for something. I told them I was going to tell someone about them and they left through a back door.

I left the washroom and thought that we should probably go and get back on the plane, so I went to look for my friend. I started out and the outside was a lot more lush (like a jungle around a fairy-tale medieval castle). People were standing around waiting for the plane and there was this crevass that was filled with water. The crevass was quite narrow and man-made (with the same type of stone work as the castle). It looked very deep, but was easily stepped over. A man fell in and I watched him as he sunk like a stone, down deeper and deeper, getting smaller and smaller until I could no longer see him. Someone else dropped their wallet down the crevass and it sunk rapidly too, but I could see it close up as it fell and it fell into a small stone basin with other wallets that had been dropped. I thought it was very odd that all the wallets that had been dropped ended up in the same place.

A man came out and said that women could enter into a lottery by putting one of their earrings into his wooden bowl. Three women who were standing in a group immediately began talking about it and taking off their earring. I watched them, as I don't ever wear earrings. Then, I was one of them and I took off the earring and realized that there was a huge chunk of wax at the back of the earring, like a piece cut off of a white taper candle. I was mortified that people would think the wax was from me and tried to put the earring back on.

My friend was still not back and I was getting anxious that we were going to miss the plane.

Comments

For some reason my computer is not functioning well and hasn't let me respond to comments on this blog or other blog for a few days. I don't know how to fix it. Oh well.

And then
It isn't cold and analytical. It is what I needed to hear. I think I am sorted out again now. Thank you! I may read that book, if I get the chance.

Note to Self
All the people I work with are young. There is one that looks older than me, but she is younger than me by around 48 months. They are at the stage in their lives where all they seem to do is work to get money to go out and get really really drunk. In fact, the day I started, one had a big bruise on her hand from the IV she had to get because she had gotten alcohol poisoning. They also are so flirty touchy with each other, it is kind of shocking. Am I getting old? Because I also think it is entirely inappropriate. It is at work. You both have other people in your lives. You are practically giving each other hand jobs. They seem nice enough, as far as co-workers go, but I have nothing in common with them. They also thought I was 20. 20? I don't know how. They knew I had taught for a few years and had gone to University. I guess they thought I graduated University at 16 or 17 or something. I don't know how they will react to me now that they know I am so old.

ENOUGH OF THE ANGST
Update on the dog front: she seems fine. She is not in any distress or discomfort. But, she has not passed any pieces of the can (yes, I am so lucky that I get to check). I am unsure what to do about this. I have been feeding her a lot to hopefully help the can pass through in a slurry of food material and hopefully decrease the chances of it coming into contact with her bowels. Mmmmmmm.

Learn-ded
I had heard about that prostate thing before but never had a chance to try it. All the boys I seem to be around do not want anything up their butts(with the notable exception of one who phoned me all upset after we were broken up and wanted me to explore up there with things). I can understand your point about it being distracting though. Only a finger up there and it was enough to disrupt your system? Sensitive system!

"Learn-ded"

Here are some things I learned at the F*erware party:

1. A man's G-spot is called an A-spot (I guess because it is up the ass?) and they have a back-up A-spot that can be accessed via the perineum (OH! The PERINEUM) which is good because a lot of men don't like fingers up their butts (but the one up the butt is apparently better).

2. On average, a woman takes 28 minutes to orgasm (and here I was thinking I took a long time when I have been well under average all along).

3. The average man takes 11 minutes to orgasm (huh? what?)

4. The rabbit habit inspires both awe and horror.

5. A lot of women do not like to go down on guys, and they make products to try and remedy this.

6. Even if it's edible, doesn't mean you should eat it or put it in your cootch (a lot of women get yeast infections from lube because it contains sugar in one form or another and most taste very yucky).

7. Some women will sit back on the couch and look at other women who are openly discussing sex with revulsion in their eyes (and will say the stripper nickname that most describes how they are in the bedroom is 'lazy laura').

8. Some women have never orgasmed yet in their lives and do not want to bother to try.

9. I too can be a seller of F*erware! (and can talk in front of people I don't even know about the joys of sex toys I have never tried).

10. Ink doesn't come off of light beige micro-fiber even if it is scotch guarded.

ENOUGH WITH THE ANGST!

Today, for a change (ha ha HA ha), my dog was a spazz and she ate a beer can. What?!?! I have beer cans in and around my house??? I do! But it wasn't mine (I swear, especially as I am not supposed to drink alcohol for fear of the interactions between it and other things). So ... what to do? She ate a thin aluminum can. You know, the kind that can cut up and shred the delicate intestine and stomach tissues. If I had money, I would take her to the vet for x-rays and probably surgical removal. Instead, I have to wait and see what will happen, knowing that if it punctures her bowels she will probably die.

Me? What did I do? Well, well, glad you asked! I decided to rip my perineum. Did I have a child today (as that is the only previous way I had heard for a women to rip the perimeum)? No! Of course not. I was sitting on the floor and turned in an awkward fashion to look at a spot of ink that someone had got on one of the chairs at the F*erware party and then all of a sudden their was a painful burning and a ripping feeling and a scream of pain from me. My roommate asked me what I did and I said, "I think I ripped my perineum" and sure enough when I went and checked, I had indeed ripped my perineum. (How many times do you think I can write 'ripped my perineum' before the end of this paragraph? At least one more time I am sure). So that is what I did today, ripped my perineum.

Also, I think I am not cut out to be a server in a bar.

Note to Self

When boobs are huge from water retention, don't buy clothes. Water is not only being retained in breasts.

So I spent the whole day pulling up my pants ... and trying to learn what salads, wines, beers, options, we had. I am already on the inside and they want me to work in their office as well (pay per hour more, lots of work, medical and dental, regular hours) as well as their lounge (pay per hour less, tips, crappier hours). I am so tired I just want to fall over. Why don't I go to bed? Because I haven't eaten yet and I am trying to make myself stay up to eat. But I am not eating. Sometimes not eating is better than eating.

I am torn, not by this job, but by what I am going to do with my life. It seems crazy to me now that I am fighting, trying to get back into this profession that I knew was only a stopping point for me. Why not move on then? Of course I am not ready. My plan is all screwed up. Gradually easing my way out when I had the other things lined up, things which I am not ready for, not prepared, couldn't handle. So now, to get back on that track, I am clawing my way back in, feeling more and more like a loser about it too.

So tomorrow again, I put my made-up face on, wear my hair all shiny and pretty, laugh at foolish things, make myself so acceptable, so presentable, so hidden from view as normal as can be.

Yeesh

I think it is over.

I mean, I have not turned into a mass of asexual being but the drive that drove me through the roof seems to have calmed down to a more normal acceptable level and I can function without dry-humping the walls. And the bed. And the chair. And any random person walking by. (I think I know what a cat feels like in heat now.)

I think I have a hypothesis as to why I was on such a ... well, you know. I got my period, which brought about all the hormonal upheavals that it usually does. Then, I ovulated (which is unusual but far from unheard of at this time of the month) which brought about more hormonal upheavals. Together these two upheavals clashed together to form one giant sex-infused hormonal state. I wasn't hormonal in the other sense, the one most people tie the word into. In fact, I was more easy-going and cheerful than I feel I usually am (maybe that was hormonal and part of trying to get people into bed with me to deal with the sex-infused hormonal state), but now that it is all over I am back to being angry.

Angry. Over the weekend I saw that a doctor is being charged with sexual assaulting two women in 1988 and 1991. That is a long time ago and it made me think, now that I am strong enough to deal with this kind of crap (or am I?) should I try and charge the fucker who sexually assaulted me so many years ago? I think I have gotten over the shame of the incident anyway and am just angry. What would charging him solve (if the statute of limitations for things like that hasn't expired anyway), would it change how he had treated women between then and now when he was most likely to re-offend? Would it ruin his life now and do I want that? Should I care about his life now? I don't know.

Angry. The past keeps coming up and biting me on the ass. I guess it because I am bringing it up and trying to (cue the flutes and birds) "let it go" but how far does it go? Do I cut off all my interactions with people who have scarred me in the past? Do I cut off all interactions with people who are likely to scar me in the future (this I am all for!). How does one go about cutting off relationships with people that have behaved amicably with you for decades because of incidents so long ago. Not incidents like you stole my popsicle and now I can never trust another human, but bigger ones than that and longer ones than that.

But then, I wouldn't be who I was today if it wasn't for what had happened to me in the past. I wouldn't have developed such a strong sense of self and independence. Should I be thankful to the people for causing such incidents that I became who I am? And just so you know, yes, there are lots of other people who I know have suffered much worse incidents than me, but mine are mine and effected me in my way.

Makkin ooooooooooout

Okay, so I have no idea how to spell that word, just made my best guess.

Last night was my roommate's party where all sorts of girls came over and we looked at naughty things to wear and saw naughty things to play with. Was it just me, or did everything look a bit tame? I guess when you are trying to talk 45 year old housewives into buying your wares, you gotta tame it down. Even tamed down though, it was enough to make my night a living hell.

And yes, I did make some purchases. One I am very excited about, which was described as 'liquid orgasm.' The lady said put it on, walk up and down the stairs, and you should be ready to explode. Okay. If walking up and down the stairs can get me off I'm going to try it. It was fairly expensive for a small quantity, but still. Walking up and down the stairs. Especially at the point of frustration I am feeling lately. She also suggested trying bike riding. If this stuff works I am really going to be in shape. I don't really believe it though, you know, the whole too good to be true thing. I really want to believe it though. If it is true, I may make it my life calling to get the product out and about to every woman out there. Especially the cute ones.

Did I mention the level of sexual frustration I am at lately? Yeah? Well too bad. If you were standing next to me you would be hearing about it this often too.

Okay, this is going nowhere and is only going to deteriorate into a slobbering mess of me pathetically begging for some relief. Don't tell me that you don't get like this either. I know you do. I have seen it.

Not Your Regular Bedside Sock

If it is all out there, it is quick and it is raw. You know what is there and the imagination doesn’t have to be involved. Clothing can hide a myriad of flaws, but can the underthings? I think they have the least ability to hide what is really there but the biggest job in building up and maintaining the anticipation. You can see the shadows underneath the panties and the shape of the leg underneath the sock but you can’t quite get there. The anticipation of a shapely leg, clothed in a cute or sensual package, whether it is silk stockings, cotton anklets, or knee-high school girl socks, from my perspective, can be very high. Legs are beautiful and sexual, kissed, licked, hugged, wrapped around someone, and wholly involved in any experience. Long, smooth, tanned, pale, very nice. The panties cover or expose the shapely area where legs meet torso which is oh so very nice as well as the centre between the legs. Seeing this area too soon can spoil the anticipation, letting everyone know what will happen and is going to happen, and helping them forget about the now. The now is very important to build up the impatience leading to what will happen. The longer and more drawn out the experience is, the more explosive and memorably it ends. Seeing the well clad legs, glimpsing the shapely behind, planning the encounter weeks before it happens with daily reminders of what niceties lie within can make puddles of minds and set nerve endings on fire.

I am not all about drawn out situations and sometimes panties need to be pushed aside in favour of something quick, but isn’t it nicer in these circumstances if the panties pushed aside are sweet and the legs wrapped around you are delightfully attired as well?

F

I just received an email about a job I was trying to get informing me that they didn't want me for that specific position (ha, was I surprised or what) but that they would consider me for other positions when they arose. I sent back an email appropriately ass-kissingly thanking them and happy, or should I say, I sent back 10 emails thanking them because of stupid F*ing hotmail getting stuck or something so now they are going to think I am inept and never want to talk to me again. F YOU HOTMAIL!

On the other hand I am having an enjoyable time waiting for the garage door repairman to show up and repair the garage door apparatus where my dog chewed it up. I had an offer to do it for free but some of the wires are missing and haven't showed up yet. Besides, once they do show up, do you really want to use/touch them? F*ing dog too.

Since I have this enjoyable time to spend, I thought I would do some laundry. I just went up and found out ALL THE SPARKLES washed off my sparkley cherry panties. Of course, I knew this was going to happen since I was being too lazy to hand-wash them but I did put them in a garment bag. All the sparkles. There isn't one left. F sparkles that come off in the wash.

Running around, writing in the blog, laundry, that wasn't enough, so I decided to burn my oatmeal to the bottom of the pot too. Maybe it is better to chisel your breakfast than to spoon it? F forgetting about things on the stove.

Then, after the shower, looking at my ear and seeing it is red and bruised from catching it on my car door. F to being stupid enough to close my own ear in a door.

Another Horror

scope

Aquarius:There is often something rebellious about Aquarians, dear Aquarius. Just as things seem to be getting serious, they are often ready to hit the road. If you were told that today's planetary aspects will push you to commit to something or to someone, would it make you angry? Because that is exactly what might happen!

Am I going to working at a Golf Course for the rest of my life or get married? Who can say?

Update: I have neither dedicated my life to the Golf Course or committed myself to another for eternity.

Good

God

And then ...

... the horrorscope.

Aquarius:It may be time to think about a career move, dear Aquarius. You are incredibly creative, much more than you give yourself credit for. That needs to change. What is the point in doing a job if it is only for the pay? You have a lot to contribute to this world, and in fact have an obligation to do so. Today, start to brainstorm ways you can put your talents to better use.

And today I hit a down. I have thinking about this job and having to buy clothes for it and my dog and my living place and my (lack) of love life. Am I just dropping the basket again?

What do I really want?

Dyke

What kind of dyke am I?

You're femme. No one's ever called you 'Princess,'
but no one's ever confused you with a guy,
either. You attract both men and women. You're
just as comfortable in heels and cosmetics as
you are in jeans and a t-shirt. You like fancy
things, but you don't live for them. You'd
prefer not having to fix things if there's
someone else around who could do it, but you're
not above lifting a screw driver if you have
to.

What kind of dyke are you?

Too Much to Ask

For the love of God. I mean really. Is it too much to ask for a pair of black pants made out of cotton? Apparently it is. And, if you put other restrictions on the pants like, they must fit, it becomes impossible. Say you even want a certain style, like capri's because it is going to be summer and you are going to have to wear these pants outside and they must be black, then you might as well be put to death.
My head is going to explode.
The whole entire day was spent driving and looking and driving and looking in each store for black pants. Black pants. Not anything like fuschia and green striped pants with a satin bow to close, because those I could have found, but just plain. black. pants.
How did I let myself enter these dire straights? Most women own more black pants than the total of all their other pants combined. Me? Just one pair that is hopelessly formal and needs to be drycleaned. Very cute on the tush, but impractical nonetheless. Somehow I lost or gave away my other pair of black pants. And the third pair, well, I retired them because I was sick of wearing pants that are too short for me (NO MORE! I said I AM NOT A GIRAFFE AND FINDING PANTS THAT FIT SHOULDN'T BE THAT HARD then I tried and I laughed and laughed). It seems anyone with my waist size should be short and a pre-pubescent because they don't make room for hips in them and they are too short. Or the hips are down around mid-thigh, because people with that small of waist are usually hiking their pants up around under their breasts and over their actual waist? I don't know.
Oh the humanity.
I bought two pairs of black pants today, neither of which are really what I want and are 'hipsters' kind of when I am definitely not so 'hipster'.
I even looked at skirts. Usually, with yesterday being the notable exception, I have a hell of a time finding skirts that look decent on me. I end up looking like a bell because they just sit weird. Today was not the exception and all the skirts made me look like a bell. Oh, you want a beer? Ding dong! Here it is.
White shirts too, who doesn't have white shirts? Me. I had to go and buy white shirts. T-shirts, other shirts, what the hell shirts. What do I wear? I don't know. Obviously not black pants and white shirts. Maybe I like to be a little more original or something and wear colour. Maybe I am sick of wearing clothes altogether. Maybe blue and yellow feature a little too prominently in my closet. Maybe I am due for some new clothes.
What day is it? Do I ever have to go through this again?

So ...

I start on Saturday or Monday, whenever the girl gets back from a funeral to train me. I have to get a "Serving it Right!" certificate too. Also, because I can work days, I most likely will, and will be at the top of the shifts list. And I will go to full-time at the end of the month.

Of course, I don't really have anything appropriate to wear so I had to run out and buy some clothes. The clothes I bought are not really what they suggest you wear, but they are so cute! I think I found the perfect skirt, as well as a pair of mary janes (I think these are them, too small to tell) to die for. The mary janes are black, very comfortable and can be worn at the job, so all is good there. I still need to get some black pants, but that can be a job for tomorrow. I am thinking black capri pants will look oh my god so cute with the shoes and then some new halter top thingeys and I am all set. Why white shirts though? Don't they get yucky filthy with stuff spilt on them? Oh well. This makes it sound like I am obsessed with clothes and such, but no. Actually, compared to all the other females I know, I have at least only half the clothes. Shoes though, well, I just cut the number down by half and I think I still have about 40 pairs. Everyone needs a well-clad foot. I haven't bought really anything new for the last 3 years so I guess I need a few new things.

Back to the Golf Course

One day I will meet this lady and talk to her about working for her. I swear it!

I am just at my friend's house, waiting for her to blow-dry her hair (yes I realized it's noon, but she has two kids, one still in diapers, how can she find time to blow-dry her hair?) and then we will leave. When I walked into the house she was on the phone. So I went to the kitchen, ate a piece of coffee cake, made myself a monster meat-loaf sandwich and drank a cup of tea. Then, I came downstairs and she got off the phone.

"I don't have cramps today," I told her, "and look," (poke poke) "I can touch my breasts without dying of agony. I am glad my period started."
"Well," she said, "You seem bloated." and pointed to my stomach.
"Oh, that." I said, "I just ate a huge meatloaf sandwich and cookies and tea."
"You're hilarious. At least you will gain weight if you come to my house enough." she said.
We heartily laughed and went on our merry ways. (Hers was to blow-dry her hair and mine was to clean up the mess I had made on the stove).

She has the best blow-dryer. I am jealous. It turns on when you touch the handle and turns off when you let it go. Better than my hair-dryer that I thought was the best and that I have had since grade 9. Still, my hairdryer is pretty good.

Just the good old boys

Thanks to Jabber for that. Since reading that article the stupid theme song has been in my head. Yes I know the theme. In fact, I am thinking of telling one of my cousin's about the article because if anyone knows anything about The Dukes it is her. She wouldn't have to watch every episode everyday (although she would) because she already knows them all. Of course, I think I know them all too, let's see:
Dukes find out something bad is happening, involving or not-involving Boss Hog, they chase around town, nearly get arrested, and right everything at the end. Somewhere in there Daisy shows off her ass.

Yesterday I drove to my friend's house, immediately went in and pee'd. Then we were going to leave, so I pee'd again. Then, we arrived where we were and I had to pee. I managed then to hold on until we returned to her house, where I had to rush in and pee. She asked me if I was pregnant and I laughed. "Ha HA! God is not going to choose me as the vessel for his child!" Just to prove my point I made my period come ON COMMAND. Okay, it wasn't really so much on command as invoked by pleading and writhing on the floor (please come period, my boobs are going to burst and I can't take the pain in my pelvis ow ow ow ow, OW!). So my period came and caused me more pain, shocking my friend when I screamed in her van and exclaimed, "My bones are going to explode!"

I couldn't get away and home fast enough because that is where the drugs are.

Then, as I was stopped at a stop sign, or light or something, eyes squeezed shut and doubled-over in pain, I thought, "Why am I having this pain?" Because I am doing all these things to be healthy and get my hormones back on track and keep my uterus healthy and improve the state of my ovaries, so why am I having this pain? And I wasn't having pain, I was having fear of pain. As soon as I realized that it was my fear of pain that was causing the pain and no other irrational fears needed to be addressed, the pain went away. Immediately. I drove home the rest of the way, even stopping at a shop to buy vegetables. I didn't take any drugs.

I think it is funny that I am writing a post about my period under the title: "Just the good old boys"

Meh.