September 6, 2008--It looks like fall but feels like Mexico. The Carolinas are sitting ducks as four impending hurricanes dance their way towards the coast. I could go for a little rain.
Time is moving slowly. My boots are marred in river mud and my mind fell out of my pocket about three steps back. This time of year always does this to me. I'm ready for October. I already started packing my summer clothes away, knowing full well I'll be digging them out again within 48 hours. I'm eager to visit my family for a few days. Enjoying conversation in shared physical space with my parents is a simple act I've grown to appreciate. I'm in a calm and happy place now, and am eager to face my hometown in my own skin, without the preoccupation of trying to impress or keep a fast pace or prove myself in numerous fashions.
I always loved my hometown in mid-October, so I've chosen the perfect time for a quick visit. The air will be just cool enough to dissect the smells of burning leaves, and the coffee with hazelnut we'll drink on the patio. My father will be inside in a sweatshirt, listening to a game on the radio with his tumbler of liptons, while my mother will show off her plants and newspaper clippings and other goodies she's been saving up for months to show off to her daughter.
I'll stare at the red house where the Dicksons live, and think about how I used to play under their porch and pick up rocks and how their house smelled like dog and baked apple. Now they are so old they're fragile and it feels like if i hug them too hard they will fold in half like paper dolls. The paint is as fresh and red as when i was five. It will never belong with a different set of occupants, and when that day comes, I will face the strange loss of something permanent crumbling in the skyline of my formative landscape.
The orange fat cat will slip in and out of view, like a person in a dream situation who doesn't belong, but keeps on making appearances.
We'll 'drive to go get a burger' and on the ride, mom will drop nuggets of news about people as we pass their houses or places where important things have happened. We will eat at home around the table and then move into the living room before dad decides to turn in, and mom will stay up to chatter, and then she'll ask my opinion on paint color palettes for the bathroom and she'll go to bed, leaving me to tuck myself in my bed in the room I grew up in. It's a lot more comforting than I gave it credit for. It will be bliss.
Hurry up October.
Album of the Day:
Harvest Moon--Neil Young
Friday, September 12, 2008
August 28, 2008
August 28, 2008--Last night I was restless. This morning, my bladder roused me at 5:30 a.m and I lay quietly until 5:58 a.m., watching the cat watch me from the floor.
At 6am, the sweet, crazy-haired husband and I plodded into the kitchen for strong coffee. I ironed while he watched replay of last night's Democratic Convention coverage.
I'm ready for change I think, but will rest easy with either candidate in the executive seat. Life is about to get interesting.
Today's Mix:
To Live is to Fly--Townes Van Zandt
Simple Twist of Fate--Bob Dylan
Power of Two--The Indigo Girls
Spirit in the Sky--Norm Greenbauch
A Case of You--Joni Mitchell
Starting a new life--Van Morrison
Ripple--Grateful Dead
Over the Hills and Far Away--Led Zeppelin
Sparkle & Shine--Steve Earle
At 6am, the sweet, crazy-haired husband and I plodded into the kitchen for strong coffee. I ironed while he watched replay of last night's Democratic Convention coverage.
I'm ready for change I think, but will rest easy with either candidate in the executive seat. Life is about to get interesting.
Today's Mix:
To Live is to Fly--Townes Van Zandt
Simple Twist of Fate--Bob Dylan
Power of Two--The Indigo Girls
Spirit in the Sky--Norm Greenbauch
A Case of You--Joni Mitchell
Starting a new life--Van Morrison
Ripple--Grateful Dead
Over the Hills and Far Away--Led Zeppelin
Sparkle & Shine--Steve Earle
Losing It
August 28, 2008--Today I decided to become more of a minimalist. The first thing I decided to get rid of: my belly. So at lunch I joined the YMCA downtown and after work I enjoyed my first spin class. Although, the music was not as exciting as I had hoped, Kate was a great instructor and my legs feel like jelly held together with safety pins so I earned my dinner tonight.
Tomorrow, I shall embark on the path to becoming a saver. I will go to the bank at lunch, and after work I will go to the Y and while I spin myself round right round I will ponder all the ways I can pinch pennies.
This is good housecleaning. New Year's in August I say! A toast...to the unpredictable and unconventional. Time for Change! What other resolutions are out there? Oh yes, nothing white and only flat bread. I need to go back to that.
Tomorrow, I shall embark on the path to becoming a saver. I will go to the bank at lunch, and after work I will go to the Y and while I spin myself round right round I will ponder all the ways I can pinch pennies.
This is good housecleaning. New Year's in August I say! A toast...to the unpredictable and unconventional. Time for Change! What other resolutions are out there? Oh yes, nothing white and only flat bread. I need to go back to that.
Lucky Sevens
August 13, 2008--
It is with great sadness that I report that the world's tallest woman has passed. Sandy Allen, the 7 -foot 7-inch Indianan has bounded through those pearly gates. I spent a moment in silence for you, sister of the stilts.
Godspeed.
Song Dedication: Long Tall Sally
It is with great sadness that I report that the world's tallest woman has passed. Sandy Allen, the 7 -foot 7-inch Indianan has bounded through those pearly gates. I spent a moment in silence for you, sister of the stilts.
Godspeed.
Song Dedication: Long Tall Sally
Simple Chaos
August 12, 2008--I've been very absent from this place. This little blog shack that was supposed to be my shelter from the storm on cloudy, thunderboomer days that are perfect for writing or crying. Where have I been? Oh don't ask that. I don't think I know where to start. Let me think.
During the past bit I have moved to a wonderful historic and giant purple duplex closer to downtown and to Raleigh's entire homeless population. The night of my move, 2 nice ladies pulled up to me as I was moving boxes from my car, offering up a rare treat---a giant bottle of Elizabeth Arden Red Door--at a discounted rate. It seems they were hungry and needed gas at 1 in the morning. Of course. When I declined (I don't wear perfume I said--and I don't, I'm more of a sandalwood balm-type of girl) they basically told me to give them 'some dollars,' which I didn't have. But it was awful nice of them to offer to take that burden off my hands. Another man wanted bus fare but wouldnt take the pizza I offered him. SInce when did these characters become so brazen?
At this pace, I'll never summarize my happenings, so sit back and here we go in my nutshell: I moved in the night of July 31--a Thursday-- unpacked until 2am. At work by 9, home by 5:30. It was a little warm in the new place, the lights wouldn't turn on. Are all of the light bulbs blown? no. check the fusebox. shit. Power's off. husband calls Progress Energy. Husband curses, goes outside. Husband says elderly parents are on respirator and need electricity to plug in. (husband lied). Progress doesn't care. No service call until Monday. Out come the candles, spray bottles (did I mention the 104 degree heat?), cold beer, and attitudes. Old friend from hometown by way of New York stops in Raleigh for job interview and for drinks on the porch and to sweat it out with us, and husband's friend. New neighbors pop in. We head downtown to enjoy some nightlife, drink some Smithwicks, dance some jigs, and walk it out like Fosse's Mexican Breakfast Remix. Burning late-night calories on downtown sidewalks is my favorite. We come home late, cool cabby. cheap fare. Friend goes back to hotel. Get up, go to coffee shop, do a little work on computer. Go home. Hot. Go to pub for lunch, have beer and burger. Lots of ice water. Go home. Hot. Weekend passes slowly with no electricity. How did the cavemen live like that? How did they live like that in the 1900s? The 10pm drafts sure were nice (from both the pub and the open windows) but 7am comes early and hot in a Southern Fried August. Even the cats were hot, sleeping on coolers and under beds, like little rugs you're not allowed to step on.
Early the next week I rolled right into my hospitality persona as we host our Annual golf tournament and conference at lovely Pinehurst--home of golf. It's so much nicer to visit than to actually live there. Who knew? The Carolina Hotel stay was a nice perk. Spent one morning on the green witnessing potential hole-in-one--no one made one, but I gave out free beer tickets which won me some new friends. Smiled a lot, assisted, chatted it up, made people feel welcome, took photos, ate, drank, passed out handouts, went home. Passed out. Slept through the weekend. Did a little yoga. Watched opening ceremonies for the 2008 Olympics---wondered how one man could choreograph such a wonderous feat. Wondered how the suits were timed with all those tiny lights. Wondered what was for dinner. Walked with husband to cobblestone section of town to Vic's for some real hand-tossed pizza and enjoyed the musical stylings of Carmine the Crooner. Got freaked out by mobsters at table nine and swiftly departed. Saw The Dark Knight. Was not impressed. Thought Heath looked like Mary Kate. Creepy. Give me some Sundance flix and wine anytime over that razzmatazz. Wished my dad happy birthday. Talked to my wondertwin. Cleaned up the new pad, which I've decided IS the Octopus' Garden in the shade. Watched more Olympics. Ate some salad. Thanked God that my last name isn't Rectanus. Talked to girlfriend from UGA by way of Newport News who went on surreal German adventure with me in 2006. A new Chapel Hill resident, we are back in close quarters. Perfect for reinstating long happy hours and good talks.
Tonight we visit on the front porch of the Octopus' Garden in the shade, with fresh air, electricity, husband, husband's sitar playing friend, cool cats, and general merriment on cobblestone streets before us. And a toast: Here's to not being a Rectanus.
Today's Songlist :
1. Particle Man--They Might be Giants
2. Heat Wave--Martha & The Vandelles
3. Paint it Black--The Rolling Stones
4. Hobo's Lullabye--Woody Guthrie
5. Beautiful People--Marilyn Manson
6. Mariella--Kate Nash
7. My Way--Frank Sinatra
8. Mexican Breakfast--Bob Fosse
9. Octopus' Garden--The Beatles
10. My Moon, My Man--Feist
During the past bit I have moved to a wonderful historic and giant purple duplex closer to downtown and to Raleigh's entire homeless population. The night of my move, 2 nice ladies pulled up to me as I was moving boxes from my car, offering up a rare treat---a giant bottle of Elizabeth Arden Red Door--at a discounted rate. It seems they were hungry and needed gas at 1 in the morning. Of course. When I declined (I don't wear perfume I said--and I don't, I'm more of a sandalwood balm-type of girl) they basically told me to give them 'some dollars,' which I didn't have. But it was awful nice of them to offer to take that burden off my hands. Another man wanted bus fare but wouldnt take the pizza I offered him. SInce when did these characters become so brazen?
At this pace, I'll never summarize my happenings, so sit back and here we go in my nutshell: I moved in the night of July 31--a Thursday-- unpacked until 2am. At work by 9, home by 5:30. It was a little warm in the new place, the lights wouldn't turn on. Are all of the light bulbs blown? no. check the fusebox. shit. Power's off. husband calls Progress Energy. Husband curses, goes outside. Husband says elderly parents are on respirator and need electricity to plug in. (husband lied). Progress doesn't care. No service call until Monday. Out come the candles, spray bottles (did I mention the 104 degree heat?), cold beer, and attitudes. Old friend from hometown by way of New York stops in Raleigh for job interview and for drinks on the porch and to sweat it out with us, and husband's friend. New neighbors pop in. We head downtown to enjoy some nightlife, drink some Smithwicks, dance some jigs, and walk it out like Fosse's Mexican Breakfast Remix. Burning late-night calories on downtown sidewalks is my favorite. We come home late, cool cabby. cheap fare. Friend goes back to hotel. Get up, go to coffee shop, do a little work on computer. Go home. Hot. Go to pub for lunch, have beer and burger. Lots of ice water. Go home. Hot. Weekend passes slowly with no electricity. How did the cavemen live like that? How did they live like that in the 1900s? The 10pm drafts sure were nice (from both the pub and the open windows) but 7am comes early and hot in a Southern Fried August. Even the cats were hot, sleeping on coolers and under beds, like little rugs you're not allowed to step on.
Early the next week I rolled right into my hospitality persona as we host our Annual golf tournament and conference at lovely Pinehurst--home of golf. It's so much nicer to visit than to actually live there. Who knew? The Carolina Hotel stay was a nice perk. Spent one morning on the green witnessing potential hole-in-one--no one made one, but I gave out free beer tickets which won me some new friends. Smiled a lot, assisted, chatted it up, made people feel welcome, took photos, ate, drank, passed out handouts, went home. Passed out. Slept through the weekend. Did a little yoga. Watched opening ceremonies for the 2008 Olympics---wondered how one man could choreograph such a wonderous feat. Wondered how the suits were timed with all those tiny lights. Wondered what was for dinner. Walked with husband to cobblestone section of town to Vic's for some real hand-tossed pizza and enjoyed the musical stylings of Carmine the Crooner. Got freaked out by mobsters at table nine and swiftly departed. Saw The Dark Knight. Was not impressed. Thought Heath looked like Mary Kate. Creepy. Give me some Sundance flix and wine anytime over that razzmatazz. Wished my dad happy birthday. Talked to my wondertwin. Cleaned up the new pad, which I've decided IS the Octopus' Garden in the shade. Watched more Olympics. Ate some salad. Thanked God that my last name isn't Rectanus. Talked to girlfriend from UGA by way of Newport News who went on surreal German adventure with me in 2006. A new Chapel Hill resident, we are back in close quarters. Perfect for reinstating long happy hours and good talks.
Tonight we visit on the front porch of the Octopus' Garden in the shade, with fresh air, electricity, husband, husband's sitar playing friend, cool cats, and general merriment on cobblestone streets before us. And a toast: Here's to not being a Rectanus.
Today's Songlist :
1. Particle Man--They Might be Giants
2. Heat Wave--Martha & The Vandelles
3. Paint it Black--The Rolling Stones
4. Hobo's Lullabye--Woody Guthrie
5. Beautiful People--Marilyn Manson
6. Mariella--Kate Nash
7. My Way--Frank Sinatra
8. Mexican Breakfast--Bob Fosse
9. Octopus' Garden--The Beatles
10. My Moon, My Man--Feist
Ten Reasons I've Been Away from My Keyboard
July 10, 2008--
In the past three weeks, I've:
1. Enjoyed a night of Kirtan chants at the Unitarian Church in Durham. Krishna Das puts on a mighty fine show--and my soul got clean... Sita Ram. Sita Ram Sita Ram!
2. Had another lunch date with my urologist. I think he grew bored of my urine and hasn't called back. It's been two weeks now. Do you think he's through with me?
3. Relaxed in Nags Head for a few days with lots of food, fun and family. And dolphins. I think the dolphins enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed them. Karen (crazy sister) immediately jumped in and slapped the water like Bud used to on Flipper. I don't think wild dolphins understand that code.
4. Planned a lunch date with a local gynecologist. I can't wait for her to crack open this treasure chest and see what barnacles need to be scraped off my hinges. Let's just pray it won't hurt or involve big syringes.
5. Decided that if I lose my uterus, fallopian tubes or an ovary---I'll always have the option for ethiopian babies, which will give husband Rob some serious running competition. Plus, there will finally be someone in my family with hair thick enough for tiny corn rows.
6. Moved office locations, and strengthened my biceps in the process.
7. Secured a new rental house for our temporary settlement. It's large and purple (think giant squid) and has all new flooring, and granite countertops. My biceps will be huge.
8. Played host over the Fourth to our favorite couple--Sara and Gerard from Atlanta by way of UCONN. We laughed, we ate, we had family game night, and we drank. and drank and drank.
a. After a hearty round of Apples to Apples, Clue, and Twenty Questions, we saddled up for the second attempt of walking to the fireworks show at the state fairgrounds but plans were thwarted by rain yet again so we found ourselves taking refuge from the storm at a sad little bar (appropriately, Sadlocks Heroes) listening to really good bluegrass and watching the local homeless offer up some unfortunate dance moves. (Random sidenote, this bar was playing a Bicycleface album inside where only a few homeless regulars gathered-- a very very obscure blast from the circa-92 Atlanta past. My husband associates with one of the bandmembers, who is thoroughly amused at this special tribute) The PBR was cold enough to feed our spirits to feel up for a little 2 mile walk in the rain to my favorite Irish haunt Tir na Nog for some Smithwicks and fussball----which swiftly progressed into Ketel One-and-Waters, Guinness, and somehow Mind Erasers and Red Bull & Vodkas. I immediately put on my imaginary leg warmers and flash dance sweatshirt and totally showed up the sorority girls trying to grind on their meatsticks of choice that evening, by tripping them, pulling their hair when they weren't looking and making fun of them behind their backs in every way possible. I don't know why I'm such a spiteful drunk, but I always have fun with myself, and bad 80s bands everywhere are slightly amused at the idiot who doesn't care about what her version of the Safety Dance looks like. Hopefully I didn't embarrass my guests too much, but they stuck around for breakfast so they must still be our friends despite my heavily abusive nature. Following the closing of the bar, we accepted a ride from the nicest cabby ever, good ole Howard Johnson from Alabama by way of 7 other states including Ohio. Approximately 3am, Gerard was in the kitchen getting in touch with his Italian side by mixing up a delicious post-stout meal of garlic-infused pasta tossed with fresh mozzarella, black eyed peas, black olives, and sriracha chili paste (i think). I have no idea how, but it worked. He's the maestro. Backdropped by a late late late night viewing of The Big Chill, it was the perfect close to the perfect random happening.
b. Just for your personal knowledge, I'd like to include reference to the fact that we're not just alcoholics. The weekend was also full of city touring, trips to the Art Museum, Oakwood Cemetery, first rate dining at Mellow Mushroom, Players Retreat, Carolina Cafe & Bakery, book and poetry reviews, as well as some historical and geological educational experiences at the Gem and Mineral show at Dorton Arena. Yeah baby, we're nerds too. So top that.
9. I washed my cat's butt last night.
10. Still organizing the Raleigh Chapter of 'Save a Turtle...It Feels Good.' So far a coworker has joined my cause. Don't you want to? You'll get a Tshirt. Just let me know.
Today's Playlist:
1. Proud Mary--Tina & Ike Turner
2. Green River--Creedence Clearwater Revival
3. Spirit in the Sky---Norman Greenbaum
4. Jessie's Girl--Rick Springfield
5. Busy Being Fabulous--The Eagles
6. Subterranean Homesick Blues--Bob Dylan
7. Knock 'em Out--Lily Allen
8-9. Mariella & Merry Happy---Kate Nash
10.Spill the Wine--WAR w/Eric Burdon
In the past three weeks, I've:
1. Enjoyed a night of Kirtan chants at the Unitarian Church in Durham. Krishna Das puts on a mighty fine show--and my soul got clean... Sita Ram. Sita Ram Sita Ram!
2. Had another lunch date with my urologist. I think he grew bored of my urine and hasn't called back. It's been two weeks now. Do you think he's through with me?
3. Relaxed in Nags Head for a few days with lots of food, fun and family. And dolphins. I think the dolphins enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed them. Karen (crazy sister) immediately jumped in and slapped the water like Bud used to on Flipper. I don't think wild dolphins understand that code.
4. Planned a lunch date with a local gynecologist. I can't wait for her to crack open this treasure chest and see what barnacles need to be scraped off my hinges. Let's just pray it won't hurt or involve big syringes.
5. Decided that if I lose my uterus, fallopian tubes or an ovary---I'll always have the option for ethiopian babies, which will give husband Rob some serious running competition. Plus, there will finally be someone in my family with hair thick enough for tiny corn rows.
6. Moved office locations, and strengthened my biceps in the process.
7. Secured a new rental house for our temporary settlement. It's large and purple (think giant squid) and has all new flooring, and granite countertops. My biceps will be huge.
8. Played host over the Fourth to our favorite couple--Sara and Gerard from Atlanta by way of UCONN. We laughed, we ate, we had family game night, and we drank. and drank and drank.
a. After a hearty round of Apples to Apples, Clue, and Twenty Questions, we saddled up for the second attempt of walking to the fireworks show at the state fairgrounds but plans were thwarted by rain yet again so we found ourselves taking refuge from the storm at a sad little bar (appropriately, Sadlocks Heroes) listening to really good bluegrass and watching the local homeless offer up some unfortunate dance moves. (Random sidenote, this bar was playing a Bicycleface album inside where only a few homeless regulars gathered-- a very very obscure blast from the circa-92 Atlanta past. My husband associates with one of the bandmembers, who is thoroughly amused at this special tribute) The PBR was cold enough to feed our spirits to feel up for a little 2 mile walk in the rain to my favorite Irish haunt Tir na Nog for some Smithwicks and fussball----which swiftly progressed into Ketel One-and-Waters, Guinness, and somehow Mind Erasers and Red Bull & Vodkas. I immediately put on my imaginary leg warmers and flash dance sweatshirt and totally showed up the sorority girls trying to grind on their meatsticks of choice that evening, by tripping them, pulling their hair when they weren't looking and making fun of them behind their backs in every way possible. I don't know why I'm such a spiteful drunk, but I always have fun with myself, and bad 80s bands everywhere are slightly amused at the idiot who doesn't care about what her version of the Safety Dance looks like. Hopefully I didn't embarrass my guests too much, but they stuck around for breakfast so they must still be our friends despite my heavily abusive nature. Following the closing of the bar, we accepted a ride from the nicest cabby ever, good ole Howard Johnson from Alabama by way of 7 other states including Ohio. Approximately 3am, Gerard was in the kitchen getting in touch with his Italian side by mixing up a delicious post-stout meal of garlic-infused pasta tossed with fresh mozzarella, black eyed peas, black olives, and sriracha chili paste (i think). I have no idea how, but it worked. He's the maestro. Backdropped by a late late late night viewing of The Big Chill, it was the perfect close to the perfect random happening.
b. Just for your personal knowledge, I'd like to include reference to the fact that we're not just alcoholics. The weekend was also full of city touring, trips to the Art Museum, Oakwood Cemetery, first rate dining at Mellow Mushroom, Players Retreat, Carolina Cafe & Bakery, book and poetry reviews, as well as some historical and geological educational experiences at the Gem and Mineral show at Dorton Arena. Yeah baby, we're nerds too. So top that.
9. I washed my cat's butt last night.
10. Still organizing the Raleigh Chapter of 'Save a Turtle...It Feels Good.' So far a coworker has joined my cause. Don't you want to? You'll get a Tshirt. Just let me know.
Today's Playlist:
1. Proud Mary--Tina & Ike Turner
2. Green River--Creedence Clearwater Revival
3. Spirit in the Sky---Norman Greenbaum
4. Jessie's Girl--Rick Springfield
5. Busy Being Fabulous--The Eagles
6. Subterranean Homesick Blues--Bob Dylan
7. Knock 'em Out--Lily Allen
8-9. Mariella & Merry Happy---Kate Nash
10.Spill the Wine--WAR w/Eric Burdon
I want my mama...
June 23, 2008--Today is Monday. I passed a kidney stone last Thursday and I still feel like ass warmed over.
I'm trying to ride out the storm, but it's likely that I'll end up at the urologist, something akin to a probing alien. I'm not keen on doctors, and I'm even less keen on doctors that go poking around on bladders, ureters, or anything perceived as fragile and tubelike.
Frankly, I'm a perfect candidate for one of those stupid girls who has a baby on the bathroom floor, just because I didn't know better.
I'll probably hold off on the urologist until I'm back from the Outer Banks, just so I can see if I live up to this:
Also, I've been having really strange dreams again. It started Friday when my troubled mind conjured up a lovely scene, where I was on an elevator in the tallest building in the world (kindof like Charlie & the Chocolate Factory as Robby pointed out) and my stomach kept dropping (probably the kidney stones moving along) and it became clear to me that we were halfway to the moon, and If we could only figure out a way to get the top of the elevator off then we could simply astral project. Right on.
In another episode of my head, I was pregnant and Robby was in the super secret service. And while he was off completing super secret missions, I found his super secret service handbook and realized he was in real trouble because he was neither organized or prompt--and he didn't own a trench coat--the first three mandates in the rulebook. So as I proceed with labor (I'm certain it's the kidney stones again), I'm all alone, except for his mother, who happens to be Pat Benetar. When the time came, I hit her with my best shot and delivered a very tiny bundle of joy. Off I go to another room to put on my pre-pregnancy clothes and freshen up a bit, and when I return, the baby had been cleaned and much to my dismay..unmistakably a kitten. I awoke thinking, Robby's going to shit when he realizes our child is a cat.
Final F'd up dream entry: Robby and I were driving about looking for new homes to rent and when we arrived at our noon appointment, this man in a purple cloak and dark long hair (very Ozzy) comes around the corner, and when he gets closer to us, I notice that he has a cotton nose like an Indian chief, that is a much darker flesh color than the rest of his face. That was hard to overlook even in non-reality. As he's showing us the house, Robby morphs into my mother, and it is she that will be renting the house with me and not my husband. She immediately begins to bicker about something, which escalates into a huge argument, not much to my surprise. The strangest element of all: Chief Cotton Nose planned on renting the room to us furnished. And his sheets of choice were white with pink rosebuds -- like the Laura Ashley sheets every girl my age had growing up. Ozzy, who knew?
Today's Playlist:
1. Fever--Peggy Lee
2. You Shook Me--AC/DC
3.Hey You--Pink Floyd
4. Mama, Yo Quiero--Ambrose & His Orchestra
5. Do You Really Want to Hurt Me--Culture Club
6. Love Child---Diana Ross
7. Apache--Tommy Seebach
8. And it Stoned Me--Van Morrison
I'm trying to ride out the storm, but it's likely that I'll end up at the urologist, something akin to a probing alien. I'm not keen on doctors, and I'm even less keen on doctors that go poking around on bladders, ureters, or anything perceived as fragile and tubelike.
Frankly, I'm a perfect candidate for one of those stupid girls who has a baby on the bathroom floor, just because I didn't know better.
I'll probably hold off on the urologist until I'm back from the Outer Banks, just so I can see if I live up to this:
Also, I've been having really strange dreams again. It started Friday when my troubled mind conjured up a lovely scene, where I was on an elevator in the tallest building in the world (kindof like Charlie & the Chocolate Factory as Robby pointed out) and my stomach kept dropping (probably the kidney stones moving along) and it became clear to me that we were halfway to the moon, and If we could only figure out a way to get the top of the elevator off then we could simply astral project. Right on.
In another episode of my head, I was pregnant and Robby was in the super secret service. And while he was off completing super secret missions, I found his super secret service handbook and realized he was in real trouble because he was neither organized or prompt--and he didn't own a trench coat--the first three mandates in the rulebook. So as I proceed with labor (I'm certain it's the kidney stones again), I'm all alone, except for his mother, who happens to be Pat Benetar. When the time came, I hit her with my best shot and delivered a very tiny bundle of joy. Off I go to another room to put on my pre-pregnancy clothes and freshen up a bit, and when I return, the baby had been cleaned and much to my dismay..unmistakably a kitten. I awoke thinking, Robby's going to shit when he realizes our child is a cat.
Final F'd up dream entry: Robby and I were driving about looking for new homes to rent and when we arrived at our noon appointment, this man in a purple cloak and dark long hair (very Ozzy) comes around the corner, and when he gets closer to us, I notice that he has a cotton nose like an Indian chief, that is a much darker flesh color than the rest of his face. That was hard to overlook even in non-reality. As he's showing us the house, Robby morphs into my mother, and it is she that will be renting the house with me and not my husband. She immediately begins to bicker about something, which escalates into a huge argument, not much to my surprise. The strangest element of all: Chief Cotton Nose planned on renting the room to us furnished. And his sheets of choice were white with pink rosebuds -- like the Laura Ashley sheets every girl my age had growing up. Ozzy, who knew?
Today's Playlist:
1. Fever--Peggy Lee
2. You Shook Me--AC/DC
3.Hey You--Pink Floyd
4. Mama, Yo Quiero--Ambrose & His Orchestra
5. Do You Really Want to Hurt Me--Culture Club
6. Love Child---Diana Ross
7. Apache--Tommy Seebach
8. And it Stoned Me--Van Morrison
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