You would think being in Oklahoma this last week would quench that thirst for home. I mean I did grow up here, but something is missing. My mother, sister, and neices are all here… and I do love them so, but something just isn’t right. My rotten seeds are here as well, soaking up as much sugar and absolute evil as possible… but what is it?
I can’t sleep… I lie there for hours just going through all the possible blogs in my head… I even wrote some ideas down… I miss home.
All this time I thought home was Oklahoma… was my past, my family here. I am tired of living in the past. I am tired milling over the “what ifs” and “why nots”. I am so hungry for now it’s not even funny.
I am missing my bed, my things, and DH (dear husband as he is often referred to). I am missing that awful smell of the area rug in my living room… like the way your hands used to smell after basketball practice. I miss being snuggled up on my fluffy couch watching a movie… just hanging out with DH. I miss my bathroom rug tickling the bottoms of my feet… the climb into and out of my ridiculously tall bed… the sound of the alarm clock in the morning and DH struggling to climb over me to get to his morning routine.
I miss the calmness in the AZ air… the quiet in my head… the beautiful scenary. I miss the new life I have created for myself totally independent of my past.
I miss the warmth of DHs arms and the most perfectly soft kisses.
Home truly is where the heart is… I can’t wait to get back to mine… back to normal.
~2
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 9, 2007
Friday Movie Madness
I have been in Arizona for about 6 months now, and today is the first day I have actually did something sans kids and/or DH - besides the whole attempting a job thing.
SO…
I’ve been planning to go to the show for weeks, and my friend.. who will remain nameless:
was guilted into going to the show with me… “I am going to the show tomorrow… do you want to go or shall I go by myself and pray not to get mugged or raped or disembowled….”
I got a babysitter…
I even showered.
I wanted sooo badly to see 300, but DH would kill me for seeing it without him, so.. we went to see Zodiac… which I wanted to see too (I actually read that book… so of course I am a foremost authority - when I read it what 10 years ago).
me and this crazy friend of mine get into the show and I get her to stand in line for popcorn and sodas while I check out the bathroom… why is that they have chapstick dispensers in the bathroom? This totally freaks me out - like they are encouraging risque behavior in the theater or something. Not that I have done anything in the theater or was planning on doing anything in the theater, but really…
GoofyASS (friend mentioned above) totally had me rolling by pointing out obviously stupid people and cracking jokes with our popcorn guy - who really should have been in school… what was he 13? We stole the parmesan popcorn salt into the theater with us… upon arrival friend points and loudly exclaims, “They stole our seats!” The obviously hetero male couple seated with the invisible person between them laughed it off. Why do guys do that? I mean I sat right next to my friend so we could share popcorn, whispers, and of course gigglez… we weren’t making out .
The movie was great, had lots of my crushes in it… that always make a great movie. It’s lame, but I couldn’t wait to get home to blog one line… and it wasn’t even in the movie… it was something um Kem… I mean my friend said before the show started… of course loudly so the whole 7 people in the theater can here… and I still laugh about it.
“I just came to see me some Mark Ruffalo and Jake Gyllenhaal GET… IT… ON.. what’s this.. brokeback zodiac……” *insert my ridiculous laughter here*
it doesn’t look as funny on here.. but GIRL IS CRAZY… I had a great time… the movie was good too.
~2
SO…
I’ve been planning to go to the show for weeks, and my friend.. who will remain nameless:
was guilted into going to the show with me… “I am going to the show tomorrow… do you want to go or shall I go by myself and pray not to get mugged or raped or disembowled….”
I got a babysitter…
I even showered.
I wanted sooo badly to see 300, but DH would kill me for seeing it without him, so.. we went to see Zodiac… which I wanted to see too (I actually read that book… so of course I am a foremost authority - when I read it what 10 years ago).
me and this crazy friend of mine get into the show and I get her to stand in line for popcorn and sodas while I check out the bathroom… why is that they have chapstick dispensers in the bathroom? This totally freaks me out - like they are encouraging risque behavior in the theater or something. Not that I have done anything in the theater or was planning on doing anything in the theater, but really…
GoofyASS (friend mentioned above) totally had me rolling by pointing out obviously stupid people and cracking jokes with our popcorn guy - who really should have been in school… what was he 13? We stole the parmesan popcorn salt into the theater with us… upon arrival friend points and loudly exclaims, “They stole our seats!” The obviously hetero male couple seated with the invisible person between them laughed it off. Why do guys do that? I mean I sat right next to my friend so we could share popcorn, whispers, and of course gigglez… we weren’t making out .
The movie was great, had lots of my crushes in it… that always make a great movie. It’s lame, but I couldn’t wait to get home to blog one line… and it wasn’t even in the movie… it was something um Kem… I mean my friend said before the show started… of course loudly so the whole 7 people in the theater can here… and I still laugh about it.
“I just came to see me some Mark Ruffalo and Jake Gyllenhaal GET… IT… ON.. what’s this.. brokeback zodiac……” *insert my ridiculous laughter here*
it doesn’t look as funny on here.. but GIRL IS CRAZY… I had a great time… the movie was good too.
~2
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
When I drive… I’m invisible
If I am in my car, and the windows are up - HELL, even if they are down.. you can’t see me. My windows have a little bit of tint, but that’s not the point; when I am in my car/truck… I am myself.
I sing… not just a little “la la” either.. I fucking wail, and dance too… and nobody sees me…. I’m invisible.
I am guilty of picking my nose… who’s going to see that… I’m invisible.
I make faces, apply makeup.. I am even guilty of plucking my eyebrows - if parked of course… who’s going to know… well besides you… I’m invisible.
It’s funny the weird things we do in our cars, and we assume no one can see us… I mean I can drive down the road with a soda in hand… stuffin’ a burrito in my face, dripping shit all over my pants, and I could CARE LESS if anyone sees me.
Call me disgusting if you will, but you know as well as I… you think you’re invisible too.
You do… don’t you?
~2
I sing… not just a little “la la” either.. I fucking wail, and dance too… and nobody sees me…. I’m invisible.
I am guilty of picking my nose… who’s going to see that… I’m invisible.
I make faces, apply makeup.. I am even guilty of plucking my eyebrows - if parked of course… who’s going to know… well besides you… I’m invisible.
It’s funny the weird things we do in our cars, and we assume no one can see us… I mean I can drive down the road with a soda in hand… stuffin’ a burrito in my face, dripping shit all over my pants, and I could CARE LESS if anyone sees me.
Call me disgusting if you will, but you know as well as I… you think you’re invisible too.
You do… don’t you?
~2
Sunday, March 4, 2007
The Beauty of Age
I remember being a child and wishing for nothing more than to be grown up. I am sure we all did this when we were younger, and now wish we could take it back. Maybe spend a little more time being a kid.
I wanted to drive so badly. I remember just aching at fourteen to get behind the wheel of a car. If I was lucky, on the trip back from Grandmother’s house, my mom would let me drive some… what a feeling. Driving 25 mph on a 55 mph highway… trying my damnedest to keep from swerving all over the place; that woman had nerves of steel.
My son talks about driving now, he’s eight. Like that is EVER going to happen. I am never letting that kid have the wheel of my car, and just sit in the passenger seat and watch. That is crazy…
NO WAY!
He wants to grow up and drive. He’s even talking about getting married. He’s EIGHT!!! What are they teaching these kids in school? He’s a super smart kid, but we have the same dumb conversations I had with my mother…”Why can’t I just be grown up now?”
“Gabe, it’s not that great being a grown up,” I have to say.
“You get to drive and stay up late… you even get to eat ice cream for breakfast.” He is upset with me because I do occasionally eat ice cream for breakfast. That is one of the many perks of this grown up bit that I am happy to say I actually dig.
“Well, it’s not all that great. Besides you spend your whole life wishing for more. I wished I was sixteen too, so I could drive. Then I wished I was eighteen so I could smoke…”
“But you don’t smoke…” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t smoke… but I could if I wanted to, and that is the beauty of it.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Well you are eight, y’know? After eighteen you have twenty-one. Oh man twenty-one… good times. You can drink..”
“I can drink…” he says.
“No… alcohol,” he is looking at me very puzzled, “Like beer…”
“That’s a drug! Why would you want to drink that?”
“Man… I don’t know why you would want to; you just do. ANYway, at twenty-five your insurance drops, and I think you can rent a car.”
“Insurance? What is that?” I really didn’t think I was going to have to go into premiums and plan choices with my son, but you’d be amazed at the questions he asks, and if I can’t answer them… I fake it. Surely he will forget before he hits therapy in a few years, right? Skip ahead several minutes later, “Well…”
“After that it’s pretty much down hill… I think maybe all you have to look forward to after that is AARP.”
“What’s that?” again with the questions. Damn it, kid… can you give me a moment of peace so I can think clearly for a moment? Can you stop talking long enough for me to remember why I wanted kids in the first place? Yeah I can’t wait till you’re grown up too… so you will know everything; or at least THINK you do.
“Well,” I look into his eyes and see that unconditional love he has for me. I see the spark… curiosity that makes up his brilliant mind. For a moment I grasp a hold of that childhood that quickly raced past me, and I remember exactly how he feels… that ache to be like my parents, because they were my world; I am his world. I smile and feel the spirit of my youth dancing in my head… answering the best I can, “you get free coffee at the gas station when you fill up…”
“But you don’t drink coffee,” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t drink coffee… but I could if I wanted to.”
~2
I wanted to drive so badly. I remember just aching at fourteen to get behind the wheel of a car. If I was lucky, on the trip back from Grandmother’s house, my mom would let me drive some… what a feeling. Driving 25 mph on a 55 mph highway… trying my damnedest to keep from swerving all over the place; that woman had nerves of steel.
My son talks about driving now, he’s eight. Like that is EVER going to happen. I am never letting that kid have the wheel of my car, and just sit in the passenger seat and watch. That is crazy…
NO WAY!
He wants to grow up and drive. He’s even talking about getting married. He’s EIGHT!!! What are they teaching these kids in school? He’s a super smart kid, but we have the same dumb conversations I had with my mother…”Why can’t I just be grown up now?”
“Gabe, it’s not that great being a grown up,” I have to say.
“You get to drive and stay up late… you even get to eat ice cream for breakfast.” He is upset with me because I do occasionally eat ice cream for breakfast. That is one of the many perks of this grown up bit that I am happy to say I actually dig.
“Well, it’s not all that great. Besides you spend your whole life wishing for more. I wished I was sixteen too, so I could drive. Then I wished I was eighteen so I could smoke…”
“But you don’t smoke…” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t smoke… but I could if I wanted to, and that is the beauty of it.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Well you are eight, y’know? After eighteen you have twenty-one. Oh man twenty-one… good times. You can drink..”
“I can drink…” he says.
“No… alcohol,” he is looking at me very puzzled, “Like beer…”
“That’s a drug! Why would you want to drink that?”
“Man… I don’t know why you would want to; you just do. ANYway, at twenty-five your insurance drops, and I think you can rent a car.”
“Insurance? What is that?” I really didn’t think I was going to have to go into premiums and plan choices with my son, but you’d be amazed at the questions he asks, and if I can’t answer them… I fake it. Surely he will forget before he hits therapy in a few years, right? Skip ahead several minutes later, “Well…”
“After that it’s pretty much down hill… I think maybe all you have to look forward to after that is AARP.”
“What’s that?” again with the questions. Damn it, kid… can you give me a moment of peace so I can think clearly for a moment? Can you stop talking long enough for me to remember why I wanted kids in the first place? Yeah I can’t wait till you’re grown up too… so you will know everything; or at least THINK you do.
“Well,” I look into his eyes and see that unconditional love he has for me. I see the spark… curiosity that makes up his brilliant mind. For a moment I grasp a hold of that childhood that quickly raced past me, and I remember exactly how he feels… that ache to be like my parents, because they were my world; I am his world. I smile and feel the spirit of my youth dancing in my head… answering the best I can, “you get free coffee at the gas station when you fill up…”
“But you don’t drink coffee,” he interrupts.
“I know I don’t drink coffee… but I could if I wanted to.”
~2
Smudges
There was a time when this girl wore the lipstick. She cared not what other’s thought and wore it bright and loud… even if it was totally out of context, she wore it proud
Lipstick is a funny thing… although brilliant and alluring, you lose it throughout the day. A sip or a kiss… it always seems to wash away
As time goes by it loses its luster… and eventually the lipstick wears the girl. She feels obligated to reapply… muted in tone and in conservative supply
Worn as a mask to hide insecurities… the lipstick wears the girl. All that’s left are the blissful memories in her head… dancing wildly in solid shades of red.
Lipstick is a funny thing… although brilliant and alluring, you lose it throughout the day. A sip or a kiss… it always seems to wash away
As time goes by it loses its luster… and eventually the lipstick wears the girl. She feels obligated to reapply… muted in tone and in conservative supply
Worn as a mask to hide insecurities… the lipstick wears the girl. All that’s left are the blissful memories in her head… dancing wildly in solid shades of red.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
A Bit of a Twist… Twisted
*** This post was from the draw: Motionless***
I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breathe
Glassy eyed you write your confessions on the cold tile… you fingerprints everywhere.
That’s my blood…. That’s my mangled body laying there naked… clammy,
Getting colder by the second.
Crazy you run about… talking nonsense in a foreign tongue… babbling… babbling… will you shut up already.
That’s my blood… that’s my mangled body laying there naked… bruised,
Getting colder by the second.
Oh God now what? What are you looking for in that cabinet? I don’t think so… that’s my straight razor… don’t you dare…
Crap.
I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breath
AND
there you are trying to steal my glory…. Flopping about on the tile beside me… spurting your life into the air and across my face.
~2
I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breathe
Glassy eyed you write your confessions on the cold tile… you fingerprints everywhere.
That’s my blood…. That’s my mangled body laying there naked… clammy,
Getting colder by the second.
Crazy you run about… talking nonsense in a foreign tongue… babbling… babbling… will you shut up already.
That’s my blood… that’s my mangled body laying there naked… bruised,
Getting colder by the second.
Oh God now what? What are you looking for in that cabinet? I don’t think so… that’s my straight razor… don’t you dare…
Crap.
I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breath
AND
there you are trying to steal my glory…. Flopping about on the tile beside me… spurting your life into the air and across my face.
~2
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