Blog For Free!
Archives
Home
2008 May
2008 April
2008 March
2008 February
2008 January
2007 December
2007 November
2007 October
2007 September
2007 August
2007 July
2007 June
2007 May
2007 April
2007 March
2007 January
2006 December
2006 November
2006 October
2006 September
2006 August
2006 July
2006 June
2006 May
2006 April
2006 March
2006 February
2006 January
2005 December
2005 November
2005 October
2005 September
2005 August
2005 July
2005 June
2005 May
2005 April
2005 March
2005 February
2005 January
2004 December
2004 November
2004 October
2004 September
2004 August
2004 July
2004 June
2004 May
2004 April
My Links
Scuba Diving Pics
Pussy Pics
My Bush
My new pal Dan The Music Man's site
Scuba Diving Mag
Info on Breast Reductions
The Fair Tax
tBlog
My Profile
Send tMail
My tFriends
My Images
Sponsored
Blog
| Got Cussed Out Today |
| 08.30.05 (1:59 pm) [edit] |
|
It was a sunny breezy morning, so I decided to open the back door and let the fresh air in. Then I came upstairs to try to catch up on some blog-reading. I noticed we had a sudden pop-up shower that was pretty hard, but it was over in a couple of mins. Usually, whenever it rains, Sassy, my black cat, comes upstairs to 'report' the weather. However, not a peep from her this morning... I went downstairs an hour or so later to discover the wind had blown the door shut. And guess who was trapped outside? Sassy. And she was not happy cat. I have never been cussed out by a cat before, but you would not believe the tone and string of feline obscenities that came out of her mouth. I scooped her up and gave her some TLC (and catnip). All's well now. |
| 7 Comments |
| A good thing? |
| 08.24.05 (12:02 pm) [edit] |
|
Don't know if it's a good thing or not, but my mother has a cold so she's staying away from me today. She sang "Happy Birthday" on my voicemail. I think it would make dogs howl in pain. Not feeling well physically, haven't been able to get up all day. Really really tired. Going to go pull the covers up over my head. Will someone go bring me a gallon of Hagen Dazs Macadamia Nut Crunch ice cream? Thanks. |
| 16 Comments |
| Silence is Deafening and Heartbreaking |
| 08.21.05 (7:04 pm) [edit] |
|
I know the tone of my postings over the past couple of months have taken a change in direction. I've been really struggling with the residual effects of the incident with "T". There's a lot that I haven't shared on Tblog because I felt it was too personal or didn't feel like getting shit from the idiots. Unfortunately, things have been a lot harder on me in the past 2 months or so because two people that I thought were my friends and thought they supported me have suddenly become personas invisibles. Ironically, these were the very first two people I shared what happened with "T". They both offered their support and promised that they would be there for me and help me get through this. Instead, without explanation, my calls and emails have gone unreturned. Even when I've been in a particularly low point and crying, begging to talk to me - he has not returned my calls. I've never been one to reach out when struggling, and to have it ignored repeatedly, merely reaffirms my motto of relying strictly on oneself. I don't understand. It's made me doubt myself even more. It's made me question myself even more. It's made the dark deep abyss I've been dangling over even lonelier. It makes me terribly sad because I thought we were friends. I miss our conversations, the laughter, the friendship. I'm hurting so much - their silence is deafening and, at times, is even more painful than the residual "T" stuff. Trying to regain my sense of sanity after the drugging and sexual assault is hard enough - doing it when your friends appear to have been abducted by aliens is just icing on my birthday cake. At times, I'm pissed as heck. Friends are supposed to be there for each other. I would bend over backwards and give my left ovary for either of them. I don't know if I could ever forgive. I feel abandoned. I feel betrayed. I feel beaten down. I feel self-doubt - thinking these persons were my friends. I guess I'm an idiot for believing it. I'm tired of beating myself up over it. I need closure and until I have some sort of explanation, it haunts me. I just need to know. I'll accept it - not that I have any choice in the situation. Clearly, I've done something I'm completely unaware of - I cannot right it or apologize without knowing what it was that I did. Whatever it was, I'm sorry Bryon. I truly am. |
| 31 Comments |
| Too short skirt |
| 08.19.05 (7:01 am) [edit] |
|
Was invited to the Braves game last night. I was REALLY tired and was in no mood to go, but the person that invited me has been so persistent that I made myself go. As there was a torrential rainstorm as I was about to leave, I made a last-ditch executive fashion decision that a white shirt was not a good idea. (You know, white shirt getting wet and all...) Threw on a navy V-neck shirt, some shorts, and some heavy rubber leather sandals - Birkenstocky but a little more fashionable. As I hop out of the car at Turner Field, the rubber-sole comes completely off one of my shoes. (Fuck!) So as I walking with a 2-inch height differential (ker-plunk, ker-plunk), I'm asking security and folks if they have any rubber-bands. Alas! Eureka! I finally get a few rubber bands and rig my shoe so I can walk without any problems. Great seats. 8th row at 1st base. The earlier rain had cooled things off but I felt my massacred short hair frizzing by the minute. (Thank goodness for hats!) For entertainment, we had a definite fashion faux-pas in front of me. Girl - maybe 22ish - really quite pretty, but she was wearing a denim skirt that she had cut off 1/2 inch below her ass. And I was surprised to see cellulite could hit someone so young. And she had on this red sequiny belt with a little bit of overhang (if you know what I mean) which was complimented by a baby-tshirt sans bra (and she needed some support - if you know what I mean!) So, to amuse myself while the Braves were getting slaughtered (7-1 at one point), I was taking pictures of her whenever she stood up. Then there was this chick (best descriptors would be redneck white trash or is that redundant?) who was utterly smashed. Some stranger had to help her up/down the stairs from the bathroom. Then there was the group of guys behind me (I never turned around to look at them) but the guy behind me had his legs stretched out over the seat next to me - and he had the nastiest toes I'd ever seen. I was hoping they were going to do a give-away for a pedicure and I'd have nominated him. Anyhoo, they were talking about women in their office, what they were wearing, one had been flirting with one of the coworkers but was concerned that she might get too attached. (All the guys were apparently married.) In the end, the Braves rallied but still lost 7-4. And I'm one tired puppy. And there's a maternal invasion today at 11am. Where's my Klonopin? |
| 9 Comments |
| What a piece of tail! |
| 08.11.05 (10:50 am) [edit] |
|
Last night, I called the cats (aka "the girls") in when it started to get dark from my backyard. Nothing unusual. Then I heard a CRASH! on the back deck. I thought "WTF was that!!?!?" Meanwhile, both of the girls are staring out the windows on the French doors looking out on the back deck... I turn on the light. I don't see anything. Oh wait... Oh yes. I see this adorable little critter's face looking right in the window at Lulu and Sassy. Such as shame it's going to grow up and be such a hideous critter later. (Then I saw the tail - why do possum tails make me flinch? I guess because they remind me of rats.) I tapped on the window and said "Shoo!" and off little possum (in contrast to the big-ass ugly one from last summer) crawled off the deck and into the night. I decided to name her Flossie the Possum - I picture her in my mind, with those adorable eyes and nose with a pale pink ribbon. Yes, I have no life, I name the wild animals I encounter... |
| 5 Comments |
| Grabbin' Nuts |
| 08.10.05 (5:57 am) [edit] |
|
My calendar shows it's "National Grab Some Nuts Day". I'm confused. Which kind should I grab? And how often? (You dirty-minded person!) I'm thinking Walnuts, Peanuts, Almonds... |
| 14 Comments |
| Got a Roach? |
| 08.08.05 (7:10 am) [edit] |
|
I don't have any phobias - fine with heights, snakes, speaking in public, sharks. But mention roaches and I become a wuss. My issues with cockroaches began before birth. My mother was 11 months pregnant with me. (I exaggerate, but she was REALLY pregnant - 8 months pregnant.) She was driving from Florida to Atlanta in her VW bug on the interstate when she realized a huge roach was crawling up her leg. She stopped the car in the middle of the road and jumped out of the car. (Can you imagine driving by and seeing an uber-pregnant woman fleeing a car?) Fast-forward. I'm six. I'm taking an evening tennis lesson. (I hated tennis, hated being forced to take lessons, and think that was the beginning of my dislike of games that involve me chasing a ball.) I picked up a towel to wipe off some sweat and a roach was in it - it ran over my arm, into my shirt and down my back. I screamed bloody murder and took off my shirt. (Too bad I wasn't 20 years old guys, eh?) This incident concluded my tennis career. At 10, I was in Florida for a family wedding. I was going to take a bath in a motel room. I moved the shower curtain to find a HUGE palmetto bug (think roach on steroids). I hopped up on the toilet seat, screaming once again. The critter sat there on the tile in front of the toilet, totally unafraid, taunting me until my parents returned from getting directions to the wedding location. (I don't recall if he escaped or not, but I was traumatized further.) My freshman year of college. The 'lovely' (tongue-in-cheek) city of Mobile, Alabama. Labor Day weekend. I have a cold. I took some cold medicine - you know the stuff that makes your scalp feel all creepy-crawly? I am in bed, trying to sleep/breathe. My hand brushes my head as I felt something in my hair - but I just figured it was the medication. A minute later, I hear a poster on the wall rustling. I open my eyes to see a HUGE roach on the poster. I scream a bloodcurdling scream that has people all over the dorm calling security and rushing to my room. I jumped out of bed and I don't think my feet touched the floor. We named the roach "Pepe". Couldn't find him. I spent the rest of the weekend in a chair with my feet curled underneath me, paranoid that Pepe was coming back for revenge. *(Pepe was discovered a few days later in the room next to me and died after an incident with a Birkenstock which made him much flatter). And there are more incidents like that... |
| 8 Comments |
| Diva's Strange Dreams Cont'd |
| 08.07.05 (7:03 am) [edit] |
|
Yet another strange-ass dream and I have NO idea where some of it came from... I'm working in an office and I get a new-fangled sort of MP3 player that (unknowingly) has brain-washing characteristics. I start raving about it to people that I'm working in the office with. I realize that it does have brain-washing effects and stop using it. Yet it has caught on like gangbusters across the country. It's addictive. Someone in the office is getting married or a babyshower and everyone in the elevator is bringing their gift - and I can tell by the individual shape of each present that everyone is giving her the same thing. But now the product has diversified so there are different styles for different occasions. (Sort of like the different Barbies...) I tell everyone in the elevator that "why can't they wake up and realize that it's a brain-washing scam and they are mindless idiots?" They hmmmph and keep listening to the machines and rambling on about how excited she's going to be to be getting so many of these. The next morning, the parking lot is virtually empty. As I am walking up to the bldg for work, someone hands me a notice saying the office is closed because there is a bomb threat. Attached is a hand-written letter of the threat with a 'fake' name of Briana stating they were an employee and they were going to blow the place up b/c the machines were now being banned at the workplace. I still went into the bldg. I was looking at the writing and said that it had to be a quiet person. I'm in the elevator with some people and I say "how about x, or y? or..." and then I look up and see the woman in front of me - she's a quiet passive-aggressive person with a certain look in her eyes. She starts screaming and admitting she has the bomb. I jump on her to keep her from activating the bomb. (BTW, she was wearing a hideous aqua polyester ribbed outfit and appeared to be Indian) But there really wasn't a bomb, it was just a hoax. Yet I was still heralded as a heroine. I thought it was silly. But they had some sort of rally that was reminiscent of a high school assembly. Ed Koch was the principal. Somehow, my dog, a golden lab, was key in me 'saving the day'. I'm not uncomfortable being in front front of the crowds, it's just a bunch of hype about something silly. I didn't really save the day. But everyone was so brain-washed that they thought the dog was a pig named Petunia. And I'm standing up in front of this large crowd, not sure what to say because they are all convinced my "pig" was miraculous. So I just said I'd answer questions about Petunia. Meanwhile, I'm looking at this dog, shaking my head. |
| 4 Comments |
| Diva vs. Pepe the Roach: Final Vengenance |
| 08.06.05 (5:51 am) [edit] |
|
Thursday night, one of my beloved felines brought me a present of a large cockroach from outside. It was lovely to see how proud she was of her 'gift', unfortunately, the little critter was still very much alive. I tried to kill it, but it scurried off under the sofa. *Note: at least this time the feline did not jump into my lap and drop the live bug on me! So I spent the next hour moving furniture around and scouting to kill Pepe (the roach). I was not going to sleep until he was D-E-A-D. Of course, I had already taken my sleeping pill cocktail, so my reflexes were a little slow and I was feeling a little 'not of this world'. I sat down for a moment on the sofa to regroup and figure out what the hell to do. Then I look to my right and the little fucker is sitting RIGHT THERE on the armrest, taunting me. (It's hard to smoosh anything with thick book on a cushioned sofa arm.) Pepe scurried under the sofa cushion. Armed with bug spray (that I didn't want to spray on the sofa), and the vacuum, I flipped the cushion off and sucked Pepe up. Then I thought, 'Oh crap, he might crawl out!' So I vacuumed the downstairs for a while, including the sofa, etc (since I had moved all of the furniture around anyway). Then I sprayed some roach spray up the nozzle, hoping the vapors would kill the little critter and he wasn't up in the vacuum bag making more roach babies to avenge his death. So I finished the evening off with putting the vacuum in the garage and wrapping the end of the vacuum nozzle with a bag (and duct tape) to make sure he didn't get out. Diva 1 Roach 0 |
| 15 Comments |
| Birthday Present |
| 08.05.05 (3:14 pm) [edit] |
|
My birthday is coming up (which I loathe particularly this year) and I've been asked by several folks what I'd like as a present. After doing laundry, I came up with a very simple request: I'd like the missing mate to all the socks I have. |
| 11 Comments |
| Bug Nightmares |
| 08.04.05 (7:27 pm) [edit] |
|
My tomato garden is in full swing. I'm already picking more 'maters than I can eat. Wish I could share them with you guys. I picked the first Beefsteak tomato this morning - it is HUGE! Funny thing is that I started all of these plants from seeds. I gave my mother several seedlings ready to go in the ground around Mother's Day. Her plants have yet to yield more than one scrawny tomato which was pecked on by birds. She keeps claiming that the plants are defective. (heehee) She left yesterday with a bag of tomatoes for herself and my uncle. No guys today at the gym with their weenies hanging out. Just the guy next to me had a horrendous case of B.O. I went to the weight machine section doing hip adduction exercises (where your legs are spread wide sitting down and you squeeze your knees together). I could really feel the muscles doing it but I felt like I was in the GYN's office when I was sitting in the chair. (Note to self - make sure crotch is not tight on workout clothes before getting on equipment!) Lulu brought me a roach this evening from outside. It was still alive. It went scurrying across the den. I've been tearing the place apart looking for the evil bug. It must die (preferably a smooshing death) before I can go to sleep or I'll have bug nightmares. I know the cats love me and all, but roaches are not nice presents for me. |
| 6 Comments |
| Hair Drama Cont'd |
| 08.03.05 (12:17 pm) [edit] |
|
After my traumatic hair experience, I called the salon the next day to tell them that I was A) Extremely dissatisfied B) Desperate for some suggestions on styling until my hair grows out. I was told the Salon Manager would get back to me. (That was Friday) I called back today inquiring when I would be hearing back. Receptionist assured me I'd hear from someone today. So I got a call from an imbecile that was an asst something or other. He offered me to come back in for a wash and cut. (Um, they took off more than 6 inches of my hair, I won't be needing a cut for oh, a year?) I reiterated again (and again, and again, and again) that I was just looking for someone to help me figure out some ways to style it in the interim. So he suggests: A) I get extensions put in. (I said, thanks but I just want to deal with my hair as it is) B) I get braids. (I repeated, do you not understand what I'm saying?) C) I get a perm. (I've already said that my hair is curlier than a frizzball) So I suggest he have his boss call me. "Christophe" calls me. (He is the epitome of a flaming queen hair artiste) Kept referring to me as "Doll!" When I explained the situation, he said "OHMIGOD! Sweetie! She didn't!" And when I told him that this is the worst possible hair length for my face shape, you should have heard his gasp. He said that he would do whatever it took to fix me right up. He's hooking me up with one of their advanced stylists to try to come up with some ways to deal with my hair and I better get some free product and maybe some highlights out of it. I'd still rather have my hair back. |
| 14 Comments |
| Penile Danny Devito |
| 08.01.05 (5:19 pm) [edit] |
|
Setting: YMCA Cardio Room I'm on a treadmill facing a wall of mirrors. To my right is a series of rowing machines. The room is fairly empty. A tall guy walks in with fluffy feathered 80's hair and a tight t-shirt and rather ambiguous shorts. Little did I realize the shock I would encounter... I'm watching the tv attached to my console. Mr. Fluffyhead is rowing and talking to himself constantly, "Go for it! (groan) You are the man! (groan) Feel it!" It's a low mumble but I can hear it above the tv show in my headphones. It's rather annoying but I turn up the volume on the headphones. Then I glance down and look at the console to see how much time I have left. And I see "it". Yes, "it". Twig and berries. Nuts and bolt. Whatever analogy you want, when he slides up the rower to push off, it's there. Poking out. I'm sure my eyes got as big as saucers. They go back to the tv. But I can still see in the corner of my eye the reflection in the mirror. And I'm traumatized. ("MAGNUM" PI he is not) I only had 9 minutes left and convinced myself I could keep my eyes focused on the tv. Then I decided to watch the screen on the treadmill to my left, so there would be no glancing over at it. But that threw off my balance. I thought of keeping my eyes closed, but that wouldn't work either. He seemed rather oblivious to the situation. I kept my eyes glued to the screen for the remaining workout but I was rather repulsed. I've had no problem telling guys that their fly was undone, but telling him that Mr. Happy is flopping around, I don't have the balls (pardon the pun) to do that. So guys, tell me, is there anyway that this guy was truly clueless that he was exposing himself or was I deliberately subjected to the penile version of Danny Devito? |
| 11 Comments |
by Redonthehead