Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Thith too hath pathed

OK, y'all. Let's not call homeland security on my ass, alright? I don't need to be handled with SWAT gear. Don't be a'scared of the angry. I'm good. Well, better. Yes, we'll settle for better.

Sorry if I freaked some of you out, but you need to remember that most of us aren't one-celled organisms that only emit 3 controlled emotions. Like Brook Burke who in actuality only has 1. That being zombie. I'm convinced she's a fembot and if you peeled her face off you'd find circuitry and lip gloss. God damn she's a monotone nightmare in a miniskirt. I am not wrong. Still love Rockstar though. Go Mig!

As I've said before, this is my blog and I get to say what I want, how I want (not that I do 100% anyway), and last weekend I was pissed. Super duper pissed that had surpassed the depression and I needed to let some of it out. It wasn't funny and I wasn't in a funny mood. I can actually get way madder than that. Heh. But it was a time to vent and it felt good. I highly recommend it.

And ahhh...yea...umm...been really mad lately. I don't know why it won't go away. I know I have a zillion reasons to be livid, but I can't seem to let any of it go. It piles up and piles up and before I know it I'm all jittery and yelly and hate everything. With extreme hate. I just can't seem to catch a break. At least that's how it feels right now. But I am trying to figure out how to fix it since life is never going to be without problems. And don't say fix it with Vodka, cause I have a sad story about that.

When I'm like this I need space. I'm like a wet cat in a cage and please don't poke your fingers through the bars. I handle really serious shit better on my own. To sort stuff out or just disconnect until I can get a grip. And sometimes I need to scream. And whitey is fine. He's being a saint and understanding what I need. Just another reason why I love him.

San Francisco was great. Not a whole lot to tell. Did some partying, puking, lame pedicuring. Brunch. A little shopping. Wicked was excellent, please go see it, and more brunching. I ran out of steam like normal and puked my stupid brains out not like normal. And I hardly drank anything! I had 2 glasses of wine at the condo and 2 Vodka cranberries at the bars. I think someone slipped me a rufie (sp?). I got so sick it was sick. -HUGE POUT- No more hard liquor for me. Hmf. Now do you see why I'm so pissed? And I regret that I didn't buy the t-shirt that said "Ouch is not a safe word". How funny is that? Love the gayborhood.


It's my birthday next Monday and I have no idea what I want to do. Officially we're going to Disneyland in October. I'd be there on my actual birthday but the stinkers have closed down the Haunted Mansion to turn it into a gigantic version of The Nightmare Before Christmas for the Halloween season. And since that's like my favorite ride, right after Space Mountain and Pirates of the Caribbean, I don't want to miss it. And my girl Ginny says it's worth the wait.

I love Disneyland. I even went to Disneyworld on my honeymoon. It's not like a psychosis or anything. I don't have the Seven Dwarfs tattooed across my inner thighs. I just love it. And I don't care how old I get, I'll always love it and squeal like a little girl and giggle and eat cotton candy for lunch but not one of those frozen chocolate-covered bananas because those are the dumbest dessert invention ever. You can't bite through a fucking frozen rock-hard banana and it hurts your teeth and gets chocolate all over your face and makes it look like you just gave sloppy head to the Easter bunny or something. Cuz the Easter bunny is all about chocolate and stuff...nevermind.

Ginny is supposed to meet whitey and I up there and I'm making everyone wear mouse ears. Don't think I can't pull that off. We all know how angry I am right now. Don't piss off the birthday girl. JUST WEAR THE DAMN EARS!

But what to do what to do on the actual birth day? I usually take the day off, when it falls during the work week, and go get a massage and pedicure. But since I've spent eleventy bajillion dollars on the poor cat, I don't really have the cash. And yes, she's still hanging on and they still don't know what's wrong with her and I'm still worried sick because she looks terrible and hardly eats. But we're still hoping she'll recover.

I guess I'll work all day and we'll go out to dinner. Damn thing though, it falls on a Monday. I don't do Monday's and my favorite sushi place is closed on Monday's. Stupid. Perhaps if I eat a piece of chocolate about every 5 minutes it'll be OK. Lord knows people at my company don't give a flying fat about birthdays so that'll suck too. Ah poo. I'm a little bummed about it. Last year was a 4 day extravaganza but I guess it can't be like that every year. If you have any suggestions, feel free to throw 'em my way. Thanks.


Dear Breast Center - thank you for your reminder letter that you noticed it's time for my annual mammogram. Even though I've only had one in my entire life, you managed to get your sweaty mits on my health history and now I have to go have my tits squished in a high-tech digital torture device every year.

I look foward to disrobing from the waist up and sitting in a narrow hallway trying to keep my open in the front putrid pink half shirt made from burlap weaved with hay from opening letting my well-endowed chest to flash everyone in the vicinity. I anxiously wait for the stranger sporting icy hands to stretch my 38-DD boob flesh across the room and smash them into the size of English muffins while I have to stand on my tippy toes holding my breath and trying to imagine the skin connecting my arm to my chest isn't slowly ripping off.

I can't wait to be handled like a raw Christmas ham, turned this way and that, while my girls are exposed sans bra, in front of someone I've never even had tea with. It will be my pleasure to spend quality time with another medical professional who has the sense of humor of Charles Manson. Watching my nipples flatten out between 2 thick pieces of glass is my favorite part.

I've laid down in front of my garage and let the doors slam down on my rack a few times in anticipation of my next appointment. And maybe, If I'm feeling really adventurous, I'll schedule my pap smear and mammogram on the same day. Just like I did last year. That was FUN! See you soon.

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