Thursday, August 30

Fresh new hell???

10 Year Reunion Announcement!
AC Flora Class of 1997 Reunion
November 23, 2007 - 7:00 pm
Place Name has
been changed to avoid stalkers
$30 per person in advance, by November
The event is in Palmetto Room from 7-10 pm. There will be heavy hors
d'ouvres and a cash bar. Starting at ten, there will be a band in the main room
at (the place) for those who would like to continue the fun!

Maybe I should be excited. After all there are people on the list that I (surprise) would actually like to see. Still, it’s weird. I was tooling around on the website and so many of them are married, with kids! It’s awash in graduate degrees, wedding rings and babies. Not that I care much about my lack of any of that. It’s just strange. I picture these people in my head as I last saw them; 18 years old and ready to take on the world. When we were 18 it was basically the same world. Yes, we had our political, religious and cultural differences, but we were much more similar. ACF is a small school and my class was a small one as well (around 200 and some change), most of whom had been together since at least middle school. We walked out of graduation living in ‘Coulmbia, SC 1997’ and moved into what seem like vastly disparate solar systems. (An old friend of mine is now a professor in London- I’m in marketing in VA!!!)
And maybe that is what this entire exercise is about. Maybe underneath the bragging about our degrees, jobs, spouses and houses we will truly be trying to reconnect. To find our way into each other’s orbit. To extend a pretty shaky metaphor past all reason…
We’ll see…

Wednesday, August 29

Grey Street

It was not fun. That is the most I can say about the visit by Papa G and #5 yesterday. The good thing is that I didn’t put Joe through it. A combination of him getting home late and me not being an idiot saved his evening.
Today I am constantly on the verge of tears. I feel like screaming at everyone. Every question is an idiotic waste of my time and each task seems like a cast off from Sisyphus. I am on edge to say the least; questioning every little detail of my life because somehow I let that woman get to me.
I am trying to turn my mind around to things that will make me feel better. I’m trying to think about the great pasta I’m going to have for lunch and the leftovers I have at home for dinner. I’m thinking about a great book I have at home and about the hoodie that’s on sale at the Police website. I’m thinking about hugs from Joe and doggie kisses. I’m trying to think of anything that calms me down because right now I want to rant and rail at him, at her, at the situation. I want to be a giant who could squash them. It is childish and pointless and I know that. My hurt feelings, on the other hand are ignorant of both the laws of physics and maturity.
It will be better tomorrow. By Friday I will barely remember it. By the time he heads back up this way in two weeks (without her) I’m sure I’ll be worried about something else entirely. But right now there is a rage living just beneath my skin and its roommate is a temper tantrum.
Please, PLEASE, no platitudes in comments, and no apologies either. Jokes would be great or new and inventive ways to commit mayhem of all sorts… tell me about the stupid thing you did last night or the new sexual position the birds outside your window invented…please?
Thanks guys :-)

Saturday, August 25

Random Ass Shit...or Watch Your Mouth!

So, I'm stuck at work. Bad. But I'm cruising my favorite blogs. Good. Thinking about the randomness. Neutral. Laughing like a loon. Fantastic. Letting dumb shit go. Healthy- but not much fun.
I decided that I would add some of my closet favorites to my blogroll. These are bloggers I read, but don't usually comment on. I don't know why. I am slightly intimidated in a couple of cases but in others I just haven't taken the leap, even when I have something to say. And yes- as all my minions know, I always have something to say.

And now for something completely different (or not):

I think one of the reasons I like blogs is that they don't end. I hate reading a great book and coming to the end. Even excellent endings leave me vaguely pissed and let down. It's like having great sex and then he falls asleep. Yes, it was fabulous, but why can't I have MORE fabulous? Not fair. With a blog- the good ones- I can have as much fabulous as I like. Unless someone pulls a Mist and fucks off. (Sorry baby, you know I love you, I'm just so alone now...weeping silently...calling your name in the night...) This is also why I like series and love recurring characters. I can't really get into the sience fiction so much, but I love a good suspense/threiller. Robert K. Tanenbaum is one of my top ten authors for this very reason. He's been writing about Butch Karp and Marlene Ciampi for more years than I feel like looking up right now- but it's been a damn long time. I know them. I know their kids and their dogs, their friends and the story about why Marlene has a glass eye. Malice is the latest novel in the Karp/Ciampi saga and I'm going to start it as soon as I finish bitching about my life to you guys.

In case you haven't noticed I'm in a bit of a mood today. This stems completely from my recurring problem of expectations. I make great plans in my head and generally don't share them with people until the last minute. When said minions have plans of their own or *gasp* just don't feel like falling in with the party line I have so cleverly devised I get a tad persnickety. It happens. The tone becomes terse, the language a mite salty and the brow slighty furrowed. Toes tap and the minions scatter. This can usually be assuaged with the application of beer and pizza, but since neither are available at the moment I'll just have to vent to you.


Good to get that out. Thanks guys.
Oh and BTW, my 200th post is coming up...any ideas?

You're a Deer!

Over the years, you've become increasingly paranoid and skittish,
as you're convinced that hundreds of people are trying to hunt you down with
various guns. In your wild imaginings, some have even used their desire to kill
you as their justification for legalizing assault weapons! Though you insist
your paranoia is justified, there are some places that you're able to feel safe.
Lodges, however, make you nervous. Be extremely careful around

Take the Animal Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Friday, August 24

Love in the Lies

I will never understand my father.
I have accepted this fact and most of the time I am even ok with it. I have flashes of brilliance where a decision or statement that he has made seems like a line laid out before me and I can trace it to its root. These are rare, but they happen. This is a 78 year old man who has been involved, in one way or another, with most of the big changes that have happened in his lifetime. Think back on the past 78 years…that’s a lot. He is brilliant and idiotic, careless and tender, one clash of qualities after another. Our dynamic has always been fraught with tension, mistrust, awe and love. There are so many things we don’t know about each other.
He is coming to visit on Wednesday. I mentioned to him that I was seeing someone and it was getting serious and I would like to introduce them. From that moment on I have seen a new side to my father I do not particularly like. Before you start thinking that this is the normal over-protective father/daughter dynamic let me clear a few things up. My father has never shown an interest in my dating life before this point. He wasn’t there when I went to my prom to intimidate my date, he hasn’t ever asked about anyone I was seeing and rarely, if ever knew who I was seeing. I think he understands that I’m not a virgin, but that is in an abstract way because he has never met the man to whom I gave my virginity. I dated a son of a friend of his for a while and he still didn’t pay attention. He never asked how things were going; he never asked anything at all. He didn’t ask my mother or my sisters either. He had no information about that part of my life and seemed content with that.
I have been waiting for him to show an interest for years but I realized that if I did that the first time he would meet anyone was as he walked me down the aisle, so I opened my mouth. Now all of a sudden I am getting relationship advice from a man who is on Wife #5. Apparently Joe, whom he has not met and has heard very little about, and I are moving way too fast. We are spending too much time together and what do I really know about this guy anyway? I am ignoring it. We’ll talk about when he gets here, but for now I am ignoring it. I am not quietly steaming. I am not thinking of the fact that Mama G knew him for 10 years before they got married and he still managed to shatter her heart. I am not thinking of all of the men he could have, and maybe should have, protected myself and my sisters from. I am not thinking that he has some gall to say one word to me now. I am calm and cool and not hurt at all. Why is it that I never noticed the neglect until there was attention?

Thursday, August 23

Stuck between the depths of my fears and the peaks of my pride

I was on my way to work this morning, tooling along in Pookie, feeling pretty damn good for crazy o’clock am when I heard the news. AMOS LEE is coming to G Land! Oh, and he’s bringing Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello with him.

I am so excited I could cry. Seriously. I love this man. I love all of them actually, but Amos Lee … sigh… If a genie ever gave me three wishes one of them would be to have Amos Lee sing me to sleep every night for a week. I love his voice, I love his lyrics, I love his music, and I am quite partial to the man himself if I do say so :-)

Really guys, I don’t know how this could get any better. Well, if someone else bought the tickets that would be good. If I somehow got backstage and got to give him a hug that would be… there are no words.

Sorry- have to go daydream about that for a while…talk to you later…

Tuesday, August 21

Wonder when you'll miss me

So, what have I been doing in the ten million years I have been away from you, my loverly peons? The answer is ten million things, none of them extremely interesting, most of them not even mildly enjoyable.
In my office there are levels of hell. The deepest and darkest of these is the Open House hell and that is the swirling vortex of fuckall from which I have recently made my escape. I wish I could say it was made without a scratch, but the best I can do is say that there was free beer.
The point is, children, I am back. The weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth and wearing of hair shirts can cease and the celebrations begin. I assume you have prepared the fatted calf and gilded the horns and flanks of your prize bull. I missed you. I checked in on all of your blogs when I could, but didn’t have a chance to post (or breathe, but who’s complaining?). I did however, have a chance to download the new Black Vatican podcast because nothing can stop the Fandom of G. I’ve decided I want a Flynn’s Hair plush doll for my birthday. April 17, 2008- start the countdown clock.

A side note: Has anyone at the BV ever thought of Flynn’s Hair adult toys?

So here’s what’s coming up in the World of G:
Papa G (and possibly wife #5) will be visiting at some point next week.
Mama G is buying a Lexus Coupe because she has finally realized she is over 60 and still hot- a thing to be celebrated. She will visit to share the hotness as soon as she has the car.
Joe’s cousin is getting married next month and he wants me to go to the wedding and meet the family. Of course I’m not stressed about it. My hair always falls out in chunks like that.
I will be soaking up more than my fair share of minor league baseball as pretty much everyone I know has tickets to a Norfolk Tides game.
My not at all secret fantasy lover is back for one last season in Green Bay and I will be glued to the television for each and every game…unless someone wants to get me tickets???

All is as it should be; strange, fun, exciting, terrifying, and familiar. Plus there’s beer.

Ps there’s a fabulous prize for the person who can tell me where I got that title…without using Google.

Wednesday, August 15

Yeah, Um...Whatever...

Crazy busy.
Will write soon if I have not blown up my office and landed in jail.
Wanna see what I'm up to?
Click on the Show and Shine link.
Pray that people buy me vodka...or just send me some yourselves!

Tuesday, August 7

Because I need it...

This is a rerun, but I needed a reminder. Pray with me people:

Yea though I walk in the Valley of the Shadow of the Workweek I shall fear no Monday for Thou art with me. Thy lunch break and happy hour they comfort me. Thou preparest an icy mug of beer for me in the presence of mine enemies. Surely sleeping late and weekends shall follow me all the days of my life.

Saturday, August 4

Izzardesque Insouciance

I was tooling along in Pookie, The Wonder Jetta, listening to the first Black Vatican Podcast, like you do, when something occurred to me. I had had this conversation before. No, I have never enjoyed Amaretto sours with Flynn and HSBP, but I think most people can identify with this podcast. Let me explain; there have been many times in my life (some alcohol induced...some not) that have seen G and G's posse talking ourselves in circles about the latest project in our lives. These discussions usually included random thoughts that popped into our heads, embarrassing tales about our fellows and commentary on whatever happened to be on the TV or radio at the time we were exploring our shared brilliance. I used to think this was a phenomenon taking place only in the theatre dork community, then only in college, but I have come to understand that most of the people in the world are dorks in one way or another, especially in groups with which we share a common interest. So, if you happen to be away from your group of friends, a fan of the Black Vatican comic, or curious about just how hot Flynn and HSBP think I am you should check out the podcast.
* A completely unnecessary warning: This podcast is not for the faint of heart. Sex, drugs, alcohol, bowel movements and comics are discussed. Although, personally, I thought that the greatest parts were usually followed by "Man, we really need to edit that out before we post this", you might be an idiot and not get it at all. I'm just sayin'...

Friday, August 3



And Cheese...

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to stay up all night after my flight got cancelled, but I was worried about missing my next flight…(6 am)
Maybe Delta can bite my ass…no, that’s not a maybe- just another long story…
Maybe I should have gone home and gone to sleep when I finally made it back, but I missed Joe…
Maybe I shouldn’t have spent the next night cleaning my apartment, but one of the many Cousins of G was expected…
Maybe I should have finally gotten some down time last night, but there was Full Metal Jacket…and beer…
Maybe I shouldn’t whine about how tired I am since I haven’t exactly been trying too hard to rest…
Fuck that shit.
I had a great time in Boston for two days and then spent two days trying to get from MA to VA. All I can say is that the concert was absolutely worth it. Now I’m looking forward to the weekend and realizing that I have to work on Saturday. I will not throw a temper tantrum in my office… I will not throw a temper tantrum in my office… I will not throw a temper tantrum in my office…
I haven’t had my coffee this morning and I feel personally offended that I was pulled out of a nice warm, snuggly bed to put up with this crap and now there is NO COFFEE! What is wrong with you people?
Anyway, I’m back, damn it, and I’ll have the podcast review up for you on Saturday, since I’ll be at work any damn way…

Wednesday, August 1

Dear Delta Airlines,