Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Just for Giggles

Yeah, so I emailed this little tidbit (among many others) to Beachgirl today in response to a love life dilemma NOT of my own for once.

She thought it was CHOICE . . so I decided to share:

Not that I can really talk . . hello, my love life is a minefield . . .

where, surprisingly enough, no one is getting fu**ed.
Most times in minefields, there are legs flying up in the air and people being
royally screwed.

Nope, not my mine field. Totally devoid of any screwage.

Question Day

Easy post:

What's more important to you, your pride or your success (and yes, these can be and often are two different things)?

We all have that little green monster, some of us hide it better than others, but underneath the surface, it's there. What makes you jealous?

And I will answer, too. But in the comments section. Later.

Monday, January 30, 2006

What Ruins A Sunday???

This Sunday, there were two things:

Seth's Call

I don't stay in touch with people from high school.
I just don't.
Maybe that indicates I'm a bad friend.
Maybe it just indicates that our lives have taken completely different paths.
Whatever the reason, I don't maintain contact.

There are three - total - people that I semi-keep in touch with.
(to be read, about once or twice a year, maybe, one of us gets nostalgic and calls the other person)

Seth, the person I would have termed my "best friend" from high school, called yesterday.
I assumed he was nostalgic when I saw the number on my caller ID.
I was WRONG.

Me: "Hel . . . "
Seth: "Do you have a yearbook at your house?"
Me: "Huh?"
Seth: "A yearbook. Do you have a year book?"
Me: "Uh . . . yes?"
Seth: "Get it out. I have an experiment."
Me: "Is this for your class or mine?"
(Seth was a year younger in school because he moved to Hope, AR from Montana and they wouldn't count three of his classes)
Seth: "I did mine. Let's do yours."

I dig through my closet and come up with four yearbooks.

Me: "Which year?"
Seth: "Doesn't matter. You got your Senior one there? Use it."

This is SO not going where you think it's going.
Seth gets his matching yearbook and my curiosity is piqued beyond reason.

Me: "What EXACTLY are we doing?"
Seth: "Lisa (his mom, yes he calls her Lisa, don't ask) called and told me T.E. died last weekend. It got me thinking, how many of our classmates are still alive?"

Okay, so this could seem like a really odd thing.
BUT
We're from Hope.
Next to Little Rock, Hope is one of the biggest gang towns.
We have NO idea why.
Probably because of the make-up of the town.
The Junior High was across from a crackhouse.
One of my "friends" was shot in a drive-by in First Grade.
Several of my friends died in Junior High.
More died in high school.
So . . . the Senior Year yearbook isn't EXACTLY representative.
But Seth and I were wondering about the Where Are They Now thing more than the how many people died total.

So we started making lists.

Out of MY Senior class alone:

23% of the total people are unaccounted for.
Meaning we have no idea where they are or what they're doing.
It would have been a LOT more, but Seth keeps in touch with high schoolers better than I do . . . and still visits home a lot. Where MOST of my graduating class STILL lives and works and dies.

11% of the total people are dead.
11% of around 300.
Wow.
I'm 25 and a little over 30 people I graduated with are already dead.
Could be more, considering there are over 60 we can't account for.

Out of those 11 % . . .
7 % were gang related deaths.
2 % were armed forces deaths overseas.
2 % were deaths we weren't sure of.
We know they're gone.
We just can't remember the hows and whys.

Seth's class wasn't as bad.
It was bad, but not 11 % bad.

It makes me wonder what the stats on my brother's class are.
I may call him tonight.
Then again, maybe not.
These stats are DEPRESSING.

The Run

I have been mouthing about starting to run.
Jason has been offering to help.
We've had LONG discussions about how to build me up to actually running.
Then I got sick, and couldn't attempt it.
But this weekend was a turning point.

I felt well.
Well, as well as I get.
So I decided to try running Sunday after my mom left town.
I called Jason and got pointers, again.

Jason: "Whatever you do, DO NOT push yourself too hard. With your hip and everything else, I want to start really slow. Where are you running? Your neighborhood?"
Me: "Nope, too scared to take the hip on the asphalt. I'm going to the McGhee center and running the track."
Jason: "Perfect! Instead of doing 10 minute walks and 2 minute runs, I want you to try this; Walk the straights and run the curves. It will be a slow start, but a good one. DO NOT sprint, DO NOT even run fast, just a slight jog. Barely faster than a walk. I just want your body to get used to the motions. We'll build up to the rest."
Me: "Yes, sir."
Jason: "I know you. I'm tempted to come down there with you. You'll push yourself too much. Seriously, Meg, don't do it. It's not worth it. Not with your history. Just barely jog and ONLY the curves. We'll get to the rest."
Me: "Uh huh. Gotta go, McGhee closes early on Sunday."

Normally Jason's right.
I would NOT heed his warnings and I would just all out do the damn thing.
But . . . I know how walking 3.6 miles per hour on the treadmill at the gym affects my hip, and running will be worse.
I also know that I'm not COMPLETELY over the illness, because I still spend about 2 hours of the night coughing and the other 4-5 hours of it sleeping.
So I'm listening to Jason.

I get to McGhee and up to the track.
Walking the straights, running the curves.
Listening to "Booty Shakin Hits Vol. One" to keep myself motivated.
This isn't so bad.
Yeah, the running part is killing my chest, but the hip is fine.

Coughing a bit.
The hotter I get, the more I cough.
But not worrying about it.
Covering my mouth with my hand to keep my germs from others.
I'm doing good.
Then I look down, after only 3/4 of a mile.
My hand has red in it.

DAMNIT!!!!
Blood.

I sit on the bench, pull my cell from my pocket, call Amanda and freak:
"I'm coughing blood again, Manda. BLOOD. It's not much, but it's enough to freak me out. Tell me to calm down and tell me it's nothing."

Amanda, used to my freak outs when I'm sick or getting sick again:
"Meg, calm down. It's NOTHING. It's just like it was a week ago. You've coughed so much at night that you've made your throat raw. You probably just aggrivated it further. It's no biggie. If you think it is, call Naylor in the morning."

Me: "Umm, I was jogging."
Amanda: "Stupid bitch. You're sick. No wonder you're coughing blood."
Me: "I've been sick a damn month, I just wanted to do SOMETHING active."
Amanda: "Then go to your gym and do the free weights. Don't jog, moron."

I have the immune system of a gay man in the 80's.
This bites.
I can't even run.
If this were a horror movie and I was being chased by a psycho with a knife, I would be cut into ribbons.
I suck.

A Bit Odd

I've had two email requests for pictures of where I live.
I was originally confused, so I asked "You want pictures of, like, my town and neighborhood??? Eh???"
I was set straight.
They want pictures of the interior of my house.
They're both girls, so I'm assuming it's a decorating thing.
They want to see (sorry, ladies) if I have any taste.

Anyone else want to see??
Because I thought I would post them here.
And then I thought, why pander to an audience of two, when I can just email them.
Unless . . . there is an interest.

So, yes, this is a boring post, but it's the best I can do at the moment.
More excitement later, I'm sure.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Random Hits

The Radio

I have a new favorite, bad but good radio station.
apparently Little Rock has some new things on the dial.
The one I located this morning was WB 101 - "Little Rock's old school station"
And boy was it . . .

Shake Your Groove Thing - Peaches and Herb
Superstition - Stevie Wonder
The Pina Colada Song - Rupert Holmes
Get Into the Groove - Madonna

This was the playlist that had me hopin into work this morning.
I admit, I rocked out to some old-school goodness.
My butt's still shakin a bit.

The Revelation

I realized, while talking with a blogger last night, that I mislead people.
I don't mean to do that.
So I'm clearing it up:

It's not that I can't find a man.
I have four in my life right now, and before you ask - yes, they all know about one another. I'm using middle names, kinda, to keep them anonymous.

Blain - 31 - guy I dated in college, we've re-acquainted ourselves, but not sure where it's going. He's not what I want and we know things don't work between us, but every 6-8 months we start talking again. Bad habit.

Drew - 28 - bartender at the bowling alley. We have very little in common, very little to talk about, and no future what-so-ever but he's a very good guy and I have no real reason NOT to date him. Other than there are no sparks. But . . . eh, what can ya do?

Hess - 28 - His middle name is heinous so I'm shortening his first name. I can't keep things with him up much longer. Mainly because he's too metrosexual. If we're on the phone and I jokingly ask "Whatcha wearin, sexy?" he launches into NAMES, not clothes. It's "My Kenneth Cole jeans, my purple Prada shirt, my black Cole Hahn shoes and Kenneth Cole Black cologne." Ummm, "jeans and a button up" would have sufficed. And this is the LEAST metrosexual thing about him.

Dave - 34 - Dave's been in my life for going on 6 years. He keeps asking me to marry him . . . and he's serious. I called him last week in a tizzy about something Hess had done and he again said "Why do you keep fooling around with these idiots? Just marry me and get it over with. Go pick out the ring. As long as it's not over 20,000, it's yours. Go tomorrow." He was serious. He's a wonderful guy, but again, no sparks, nothing there. It's like kissing my brother. Ugh.

Oh crap, I guess technically there's a fifth one, though not really.

I went out with my friend Stephen Saturday night. After many rounds of margaritas, we returned to his apartment and started drinking Crown and cokes. I have NO idea why I did this. I'm sick and shouldn't be drinking at all, but we needed the stress relief. Needless to say, I was a bit tipsy. And BOB just wasn't doing it for me anymore - - and no way was I sleeping with any of the above listed men, so I pulled the ole drunk dial.

Yep, I called an ex. One I hadn't been in touch with in months.
But that never seems to matter.
And we had 4 hours of hotel room sex.
Woo hoo.
Thank God.
The drought was about to kill me.
But then the bombs started:

*BOOM* - "I meant to tell you this before we . . . before this happened, but . . . I'm engaged."

*KABAM* - "I've been thinking of calling it off, because I can't get you out of my head. I've called and hung up several times, I just wanted to talk to you."

*BAP* - "I'm so glad you called. I've missed you. Now we can just start up where we left off."

Oh holy hell.
I can't even have a one night stand without consequences.
I jumped outta bed, dressed faster than I ever have in my life, yelled at him that he's an idiot and he should marry this girl he's engaged to and ran like the wind out the damn door.

He's called 6 times this week, and it's 7 AM Wednesday.
I'm hoping he hasn't been stupid enough to tell the fiancee any of this.

I've scheduled dinner with Birdie tonight to get her take on all this, other than the blogging friend I told last night - - and now, you guys, no one else knows about this.

My other real friends would kill me.
Birdie won't. Because she never met him. She was in New York when he and I were together.
The ex - we'll call him K - never made a good impression on the friends.
In fact, he turned kinda stalkerish (okay, REALLY stalkerish) on me after I called things off.
WHY I chose him for a booty call, I will never fully understand.
Drunkenness does bad things.
It makes you call the guy with the biggest appendage and the best moves in the bed.
Not the guy that would let sleeping dogs lie.

Snow Cones

I feel like a snow cone today.
Rarely am I this colorful.
The sickness has taken a toll and I have about two weeks of laundry piled up.
I'm hoping the maid takes the hint and does it for me today.
However, this means I'm left with only the really happy scrubs and undershirts.

I'm a snow cone.
Pale yellow t-shirt.
Bright aqua blue scrubs.
Bright pink "cotton candy" - no really, that's the color on the label - scrub jacket.

Great, now I'm hungry.
For sugary, frozen goodness.
Do any snow cone places deliver?
In the dead of winter?
With a quickness?

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

What the . . .hmmph . . . Why?

Does this happen to you guys, too??

You go to bed, say, at 10 PM.
You wake up.
You're refreshed, energized, fully rested, ready to tackle your day.
You glance at the clock.
It's 1 AM.

Back to bed.
Fight with your mind for an hour:

You ARE going back to sleep.
It's not even CLOSE to time to get up.
CALM DOWN.
You don't need to re-write that report.
You have recieved no faxes in the last 3 hours.
Stop worrying about the caseload tomorrow.
Stop worrying about the taxes you sent off 10 days late.
Too late to fix it.
Go back to sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.

Finally, you sleep.
From about 2 AM until your waking time.
Much longer than the 3 hours sleep you had gotten before 1 AM.
When you awoke: refreshed, energized, fully rested, ready to tackle your day.

And now:
You're exhausted, uneasy, grumpy, wishing you could crawl back into bed, your head hurts a little, you curse the sleeping Gods for making you happy as a clam at 1 AM and angry at the world when you SHOULD be up.

WHY?????

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Tidbit

I hate heat.

I live in the South.
In ARK - AN - SAW and I hate heat.
I abhor it.
Beyond measure.

In the winter, I keep my windows open.
IF and only IF I have company . . . I will turn the heat on.
To 65 degrees.
Anything over that is too stifling.

Even when it's 20 degrees out, I sleep with my fan on.

None of this is important.
Just a tidbit.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Hi Kids

Thank you so much for the well-wishes.
Everything's fine. Promise.
Just a bit under the weather.
Well, very under the weather.
But whatever.

I promise to try and catch up on everyone's blog this weekend when I'm still bedridden. Is it legal to make someone stay in bed this long and NOT give them any action???

However, I should warn you, I may not comment or my comments may be a bit delirious.
Good drugs and high fever tend to do that.

Miss you guys, no really.
Well, some of you.
Okay, like two of you.
Maybe a couple more on a good day. :)

Kidding.
I think.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Whoppee!!

My bestest friend in the whole wide world finally posted about our night.
If you want to laugh your ASS off and get a little insight into our world:

www.birdsovafeather.blogspot.com

I love that girl mor'n my luggage.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Catching Flak

Alright biatches,

I'm catching flak.
I'm down with that.
That's fine.
So I'm coming clean.

Yes, I'm 25, and I have:

A stylist
A maid
A lawn service
An accountant
A lawyer
A broker
Two employees


BUT, I also have:

An oncologist
An endocrinologist
A gynocologist
A dermatoligist
A radiologist (no really, my own damn radiologist)
Malpractice insurance
Useless health insurance
Two employees (if you have a business, you understand that this is both an asset - above - and a liability)

So . . . I think it all evens out.
If you wanna trade, let me know.
Seriously.
I'm down.

May I Express My Dismay . .

I have an acquaintance.
I can't call her a friend, because we're not that close.
And honestly, I don't wish to be that close with her.
We are completely different people.
We have only one thing in common:
Our other friends.

The acquaintance is extremely intelligent.
But what she has in book smarts, she lacks in common sense.
She has a biology degree.
But apparently, she missed the day when they explained procreation.
Because she's 3 months pregnant.
Because she didn't use a condom.

Her lack of foresight isn't what bothers me.
She claims to love the child's father, he claims to love her and they have seemed somewhat excited about the pregnancy.
If not a little dumb about it.

HE - is a pot head.
And when I say "pot head", I don't mean that he smokes occasionally or every other Tuesday or even every Monday, but he smokes about every other hour of every day.

HE - lost his job.
To hear him tell it, he was semi-fired and semi-quit.
But I don't think you semi-quit when you are BANNED for LIFE from Chili's or any of it's affiliate restaurants.
He may not work there, nor even eat there.

HE - is in NO great rush to find another.
In fact, he "doesn't want to work."

Sidenote - does anyone WANT to work?

SHE - just started a new job with the government.
Her benefits haven't kicked in.
She has no health insurance.

SHE - makes less than $30,000 a year before taxes.
Has NEVER paid for any bills of her own.
Has had her parents paying for everything.
And she's 26.

THEY - have been living with friends.
For free.
But obviously can't do so now.
They must find a house.
In Conway.
A town of three colleges and rents so high they make your eyebrows lift to your hair line.
That accepts pets.

THIS is the straw that broke the camel's back:

Baby Momma: "We need to find a three bedroom house."
Me: "Three bedroom houses, in Conway, particularly that accept pets, are going to be HIGH HIGH HIGH. Why do you need three bedrooms?"
Baby Momma: "Because -baby daddy- needs a room for his hobbies, I need a room for my hobbies and we need a room to sleep in."
Me: Dead Silence and Long Looks.
Baby Momma: "What's that look for?"
Me: "Are you forgetting something?"
Baby Momma: "Oh yeah, we need like a bonus room or an outside room or something because he can't smoke his pot in the house, I'm allergic and it makes me nauseous."
Me: More Silence. Definitely More Pointed Look - this time at her stomach.
Baby Momma: "WHAT????"
Me: Aggrivated. Beyond. Reason.

Maybe because she's stupid. Maybe because she's three months pregnant and I don't know if I will EVER be able to be in that state. Maybe because people don't have to have a license to procreate. Maybe because she's been sheltered her whole life. Maybe because she obviously doesn't grasp that she has a life inside her, one that she's responsible for for the next 18 years and beyond. Maybe for a lot of reasons.

Baby Momma: "Stop looking at me like that! What??"
Me: Exploding: "Where the fuck is the baby supposed to go???????"
Baby Momma: "Oh." long pause. "Oh, yeah."

I could tell you more, but I need to bash my head in right now.
Like how she thinks her paycheck (because she's never had a job before now) for two weeks is going to be 1000 + dollars. Even though our friend who makes the same amount has already told her that after taxes and health insurance and retirement, she's going to be lucky to get $800 every two weeks. And how she has no idea how much electricity costs - "We'll budget about $100 a month for that." Even though I've told her that I'm just ONE person and I never have any lights or anything on except a stereo and it costs me around $200 a month JUST FOR THAT. And this could go on and on.

Hitting. Head. Against. Desk.

So, I'm thinking of pulling a Judy Blume.
Are you there God, it's me, Meghan.
And asking: "Why can insipid people procreate, but people like me who would LOVE to have children and probably could do a fair job raising them, are possibly unable to??"

Room for his hobbies and room for my hobbies.
Jayzus.

Monday, January 09, 2006

Tagged!

My near and dear Trueborn tagged me with the fabulous Ang’s list, so here goes:

Two Parts of Your Heritage
1. Scottish
2. English

Two Things That Scare You
1. Failing
2. Planes

Two fears you overcame
1. Getting into the real world and making it on my own.
2. Being alone.

Two of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Skim Milk
2. Music

Two things you are Wearing Right Now
1. Diamond earrings
2. Scrubs

Two things you wore too much this year
1. Scrubs
2. A quad cane (it counts as wearing, particularly since Birdie wanted to “bedazzle” it)

This year's Favorite Bands or Musical Artists
1. The Killers
2. XTC

Two Things You Want in a Relationship
1. Stability
2. Honesty

Two of your favorite Movies of the Year
1. Love Actually
2. Phantom of the Opera

Best movies of all time
1. People Will Talk
2. Dogma

Two things You hate
1. Being told what to do.
2. Ignorance

Two of Your Favorite Hobbies
1. Reading
2. Writing

Two things you learned this year
1. Running a small business is not THAT hard.
2. Life is too short to feel guilty.

Two Accomplishments You are Proud of
1. I started, and made a success of, my own business.
2. I completed my clinical fellowship and have become a fully licensed therapist.

Two Things You Want Really Badly
1. Love
2. Life

Two place you went this year.
1. Ha ha ha - who had time
2. See number one.

Two Places You Want to go on Vacation
1. Australia
2. Scotland

Two Things You Want to Do Before You Die
1. Be content.
2. Find and maintain love.

Two Ways that you are a Stereotypical Example of your Gender
1. I won’t leave my house without makeup.
2. I spend money on frivolous things.

Two things that make you stand out.
1. My outlook on life.
2. My obsession with sports, namely football.

Two Things You Normally Wouldn't Admit
1. Deep down I think I’m not good enough.
2. I think most people are stupid.

Two Goals for the New Year
1. Be comfortable in my own skin again.
2. Pay off the debts I incurred when I was unable to work.

I tag:

Rolligun
Beachgirl
Coyote Mike
Bone
Auburn

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Cliffhanger

Yeah, so I SHOULD post about the drunken debauchery that took place . . . for FREE . . last night:

But I'm not gonna.
Because Birdie assured us last night that SHE was going to blog about it Monday.

And the responsibility fell to her because she did not TRUST us that the bar/bowling alley/karaoke/dance floor/full kitchen was the BEST place ever.
Nor did she trust in my NEW FOUND friendships with the staff - - and that we drank EVERYTHING for free last night and didn't even have to ask to be brought drinks - - in fact, we were DONE drinking . . . but Danny KEPT bringing us free, pretty, tasty drinks.

And by DRINKS I mean: THIS much alcohol and this much mixer.

One of my Crown and Cokes . . .I'm relatively sure there was NO coke.
And everyone got kissed.
Some by two or more boys.
And everyone was dragged to the dancefloor.
And the bartender made us a pizza at 1:30 AM because we were hungry.

Let's just say it was THE BEST NIGHT EVAAAARRRRRR to make up for one of the worst mornings.

And Birdie, you had BETTER mention "Jeremy" and how he couldn't even wait to be out of the parking lot to use your phone number.

And K's being on FIRE last night and . . . oh shit, call me! After you guys left, I had a long talk with Will and A and there are some things that MUST be discussed.

Oh damnit, my head hurts.
Love you kids and be SURE and check out Birdie's site periodically (she will probably not be able to post until Monday afternoon) to see her version of the events: www.birdsovafeather.blogspot.com

Saturday, January 07, 2006

It's Starting Again

I woke up this morning, lifted my head from the pillow and saw . . . a clump of hair.

I took a shower, washed and conditioned, massaged the scalp, lightly towel-dried and started to comb through - wet hair fell to the floor, over and over.

I had to sweep the bathroom.

I'm going to tell myself it doesn't mean anything.
It's NOT starting again.
It's stress.
It's life situations.
It's my irateness at Anonymous comments to my friends and idiotic judges and people who are parents and shouldn't be when I don't know if I ever can.

It's not happening again.
But it is.

Friday, January 06, 2006

What the Fu . . nky Cold Medina is this??

BEFORE my run-ins with the police (see below), THIS is what I was going to originally blog about:

Wrist Slap for Rapist

A Vermont man convicted on multiple rape counts against a young child was given just 60 days in jail by a judge who says he no longer believes in punishment. Prosecutors had asked for at least eight years behind bars for Mark Hulett, who confessed to raping his victim repeatedly for four years, starting when she was seven.

But in handing down his sentence, Judge Edward Cashman said harsh punishment, "accomplishes nothing of value," adding, "anger doesn't solve anything. It just corrodes your soul." The victim's mother tearfully disagreed, telling reporters that the rapist "should pay for what he did."

— FOX News' Aaron Bruns contributed to this report



Thoughts??? Anyone want to explain to me WTF is going on here?

Judge Cashman also said he didn't "believe in punishment" . . . as was said by many last night, what DOES he believe in? Santa Claus? The Easter Bunny??

Luuuuccckkkyyy!

I have to express my gratitude for the Arkansas State Troopers.
Their leniency should be commended.

Last night:
Dinner with friends.
Driving home.
I readily admit I have a HEAVY foot.
I find it very, VERY hard to stay at the speed limit.
Last night, I was too busy singing to pay attention to the speedometer.
70 MPH zone.
Blue lights.

"Ma'am, are you aware of the speed limit in this particular area?"
"Yes, sir. 70 MPH."
"Are you aware of your own speed?"
Flirtatious giggle - I'm NOT above debasing myself to avoid a ticket: "I'm assuming above 70?"
He actually laughs! Thank God.
"Yes, ma'am. Well above 70. You were traveling 92 MPH when I clocked you."

Internal Monologue:

SHIIIIIIITTTTTTTT
That's speeding.
Plus reckless driving.
Plus anything else he feels like tagging on.
I'm looking at AT LEAST $300, probably more.
I can't afford that!!
Please, please, no.
Flirt more.

"I had no idea I was going so fast. I am so sorry officer."
"May I see your license and registration?"
I dig them out of the console and think, Hell, I'm getting the ticket.
Of course I'm getting the ticket.
I was 20 + miles over the speed limit.

"Ms. SoandSo, you are aware that traveling at that high a speed is extremely dangerous. Particularly in an SUV. It increases the chances of turn over. With the winds this high tonight, it is even more likely."
"Yes, sir. I do apologize. I had no idea I was going that fast. I'm normally a very consciencious driver."
Lies, all lies. I am a VERY good driver, but a very fast driver.
"I will be right back."
He goes back to his cruiser and I sit there and feel my stomach tie into even harder knots.
Shit, shit, shit.

"Ms. SoandSo, I'm going to let you off with a warning. It would be a shame to see you start off the New Year with an infraction of this kind. I need you to promise me that this will not happen again."
Mentally: Oh holy hell, if you're REALLY letting me off with a warning, not only will I PRO-mise to not do it again (lies), I will send gifts to your first born.
"No, sir. I promise this will not happen again. I will set my cruise control to ensure it."
He smiles at me, hands back my license and registration - along with the warning ticket, and lets me go.
OMG.

Do I learn my lesson?
NO.
Less than 12 hours later:

45 MPH zone.
Blue lights.
Shit, shit, shit.

I could type up the whole spiel again, but I doubt you want to read it.
Just let it be known that flirtation or the gods were with me for another day.
58 in a 45.
Not even a warning ticket.
He checks my license and registration, talks to me about the importance of awareness and then says:

"I'm giving you a late Christmas present. I'm letting you go, but be more aware of your speed, Miss. I doubt anyone else will be this lenient."

Ha ha - if only you knew.

Thank you, Arkansas State Troopers.
I DID attempt to watch my speed a little more this morning.
I made certain to stay under 80.
Well, kinda.

I'm wondering, with this kind of luck, if I should go buy a lottery ticket.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Price Check on Aisle Three

I'm currently performing a cost benefit analysis.

Yes, it would probably cost $50,000.00 to have my mother and brother assassinated.
But . . . it would surely be worth a second mortgage on the house, right??
Just think of the years of migraine medications I wouldn't have to pay for.

For Laurie and Janestarr

Who understand.
And Beachgirl, who has witnessed it.

Music:

I’m listing artists only since I don’t have the CDs in front of me.
Oh, and this list is missing some, I know it. I can’t remember some of the other ones I bought. Maybe Beachgirl can kick some in since she was with me for the purchase of about 13.


The Shins
The Bravery
Our Lady Peace
John Coltrane
Miles Davis
Ella Fitzgerald
Billie Holiday
2 Pac
Chamillionaire
Keith Urban
Sara Evans
Kanye West
Indie Arie
Sade
The Offspring
NOW volume 20
The Gorillaz
Garbage

Yes, I bought all these within the last week. I told you, I have a problem.

Books:

Again, I’m forgetting some.

James Frey - My Friend Leonard
CS Lewis - The Screwtape Letters
CS Lewis - The Collected Works of CS Lewis
F. Scott Fitzgerald - Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald
Laurell K. Hamilton - Micah
Edna Ferber - Giant
Gregory Maguire - Son of a Witch
Chris Bohjalian - Before You Know Kindness
Chuck Palahnuik - Haunted
Ayn Rand - The Virtue of Selfishness
Jennifer Crusie - Anyone But You
Hunter S. Thompson - Fear and Loathing in America
Kurt Vonnegut - Slaughterhouse - Five
Greg Iles - Turning Angel

I warned you - addiction to books and music.
Will you guys visit me in the poor house?

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Manic Tuesday

Okay, I have no idea why . . . but I've been a bit manic lately.

Tonight, I took three hours and tore up EVERY (and that's a LOT) bookshelf in my house, all the boxes of books I have, the millions of places I have books hidden, etc. and organized them.

I just wanted all the books by the same author together.
Uh huh.

And it didn't stop there.
At this moment I have about 200 of my cds spread across the floor. I'm putting all the same groups together. And then going to organize them into the CD cases by genre.

OCD.
Gotta love it.

Yay!

Many reasons to rejoice today:

1 - Back at work! - thus a sense of purpose, however brief it may last.

2 - New couch was delivered yesterday! No, I didn't need it. Yes, I love it. And the other couch is now taking residence in a room that is too small for it. Don't ask how we got it in there.

3 - The maid comes today! Hooray! While still VERY tidy, my house has a plethora of dust and other particles which must be removed. I refuse to dust. Bleck.

4 - New books! Though I didn't need any more books, I went out and purchased more anyway.

5 - The doctor cleared me! Supposedly now I can run, dance and perform various sexual positions without injuring my "healed" hip. Gosh, it only took a year and two weeks. However, heels are still off limits - durnit.

6 - I finally went to sleep! After a few nights of insomnia, I slept a full 4 hours last night. I am beyond excited. I just hope tonight follows suit.

7 - New music! I bebopped my way happily to work this morning with new CD's. I'm not sure which I'm happier about - the music or the books.

8 - Back to the gym! Crystal and I agreed that the holidays were too hectic to try and schedule gym sessions. We took two weeks off due to traveling, family and friends. Possibly the main reason I can't sleep. I can not tell you how happy I will be to be doing arms, shoulders, back and chest tonight. And I HATE arms night.

9 - It is officially a New Year! So all those things I did RIGHT before the New Year can be forgotten. Clean slate, thank the Lord.

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Lessons Learned on New Years

1: We are old. Beachgirl more so than me. :) She’s sitting here admitting to it. We were home and in bed right before 4 AM. I would have danced the night away, but around 3, Beachgirl looked forlornly at me and said “My feet hurt! Are you ready to go?” I am nothing if not polite to guests. We got outta there.

2: Birdie and my friend K. are older than we are - at least in spirit. They had left 45 minutes before we did. We dialed them up and met them at the Waffle House down the road. Which, of course, is a story in itself. Short version: They had ordered and finished eating by the time we arrived. We weren’t hungry, just wanted some water and to tell the girls goodnight. BIG argument ensues at the counter. Apparently the Waffle House didn’t have a working credit card machine on New Years. Also, they don’t take checks. Unfortunately, there were no signs - nor any waiters/waitresses - informing the patrons of this. K. and Birdie had NO cash. And had a sarcastic bout of arguing with the staff of the (ha ha ha) restaurant. No Cash Night at the Waffle House. Watch out kids, what’s next?

3: A. doesn’t dance so much as catwalk. My lovely stylist (who made us BEAUTIFICUS before going out) has an unusual form of dancing. She’ll dance for a few minutes, then point at no one in particular and walk 10 feet, do a spin turn and walk back. That is her signature move. The drunker she gets, the more unsteady and confusing the walk. By the time we left, Beachgirl was sure she didn’t know her own name. I was sure she was living up to her promise of not leaving until “they shut the place down and kick me out OR the police escort me out for poor conduct.”

4: When there are no attractive SINGLE males about at midnight, you can kiss every girl in sight. Beachgirl kissed 3 girls to my 4. The fourth was my friend M. M. is gorgeous. Were I to go gay, I would go straight to her. Beachgirl concurs.

5: The food at Nu is AMAZING. And completely worth the small fortune you have to plop down. Also, the waiters are hot hot hot. And, to make you feel even better, the entire restaurant is glass windows. Thus allowing every person walking through the River Market district to stare in at your table. Our table was in the corner of the restaurant thus allowing us two angles of approaching New Years partiers. Men LITERALLY - ask Beachgirl - licked the glass at our windows. There was a lot of pointing and one particular male offered marriage to us. Interesting, interesting. We also got to see the MANY fashion mistakes others make. One particular woman was decked out in a coral tulle dress. It was so frightening. I still haven’t fully recovered.

6: We are old. Yes, we addressed this in number one, but this further illustrates the point from a totally different angle. At several times during the night, boys would begin grinding upon us and we would turn to see them and discover - holy Buddha! They are 12 years old! Wait, wait, this club is 21 and up only. . . . and yet. At several times during the night you could hear us addressing each other and them with comments such as “Umm, yeah, I would let him keep dancing with me, but I have a requirement that men have pubic hair before I grind on them.” or “Does mommy know you’re out past curfew?” or, my particular favorite, Beachgirl’s all out “Are you even old enough to be in this club???? You have no clue what song they’re even playing, do you??” - in case you’re wondering - it was AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long.”

7: A. and M. deserve awards. I am the baby of the group. I could have and would have, had not Beachgirl needed to return home (thank you, doll, I hurt so bad today! I can only imagine what it would have been like if I had stayed until closing!), kept up with M. and A. for the rest of the night. But I have to give those ladies credit. A. is 34 and M. is 28. They are older than Birdie and K. who left first, definitely older than moi, and A. is older than Beachgirl. But they were still going STRONG when we meandered our way out the door. I am 99.9% certain they were there until closing. Those ladies are inspirational. A. is my new hero. I want to be just like her when I’m 34. Stamina, wise. I don’t know that I want to be at the club until 6 AM when I’m 34. Don’t tell her, but I think it’s a bit . . . umm . . . well, I just hope my clubbing til daylight days are over by that stage of my life.

8: There are men who are prettier than we are. Discovery, our club of choice last night, boasts a drag show. Ms. Gay Arkansas 2005 had a body I would have killed for. And his/her make-up was flawless. Ummm, he/she was beautiful. And could DANCE. A friend of A.’s was a 6'3" gorgeous male, posing as female, and had more offers for illicit things than ANY of the girls in our group. We spent half the night pondering “Do these boys even know that she’s a man??” The answer, kids, is NO. They didn’t. THAT is how pretty this boy was. When Beachgirl and I left, he/she was sandwiched between two pretty hot guys, one of which was kissing his/her neckbone. . . I couldn’t help but wonder - will he kiss low enough to determine that those breasts are all padding??

9: The techno room is fun, the drag show room is relaxing but the main dance floor is the place to be if you want straight males. Plus, it’s not like you can bust out old school dance moves in the techno room - it just doesn’t fit. However, on the main dance floor, K. and I put our youth to good use. She busted out “The Sprinkler” while I did the “Roger Rabbit” and Birdie relearned “The Snake.” Beachgirl wowed us with her ability to STILL do “The Butterfly” with grace and poise. Oh God, I just made another argument proving we’re old, didn’t I?

10: Kissing straight, single men at midnight. It’s almost midnight and we’re at a table in the drag show room. Someone - probably Beachgirl - realizes that we have to find boys before midnight, and it ain’t happenin at the drag show tables. K. stands up and announces “Come on girls, I’ve got 14 minutes to find my future!” and we shimmy out the door. I’m not sure why we didn’t find any males to kiss. Possibly because they were all attached. When, oh when, did New Years become the couples night out that it is??? The FEW single, straight males in the joint didn’t show up until well past midnight. Well, that’s not true. There were single males before then, but none you would want planting their lips on yours.

11: The futility of making lists. Beachgirl performed almost none of her top five things to do on New Years:

1 - Dancing on a table - didn’t happen. Mainly because the ONLY tables are in the drag show room . . . and there’s no music in there unless a show is on.

2 - Drink until her Southern Accent shines through - umm, we didn’t drink all that much. Don’t get me wrong, we got our drink on, but nothing that would make our livers scream in protest. However, her Southern accent is strong enough that the addition of alcohol wouldn’t alter it enough for me to notice. At least, I think not.

3 - Taking off her clothes - yeah, it happened. Just not in the club. It happened in the vehicle. It’s not as though a corset, particularly when worn as a shirt, is comfortable. Especially after hours of sitting down to dinner, sitting at a drag show and then dancing your ass off. She has the bruises to prove it. By the time we reached the vehicle, she already had the corset half off. It was completely off for the drive home. Hmmm . . does that mean she DID accomplish her task of stripping or no???

4 - Men putting money in her G-string - didn’t happen. But we did allow men to ogle us and were told on several occasions that we had “nice racks.” Buying of drinks from others did occur, however. Does this count . . drinks are more than $5 and I would rather see that money in the bar tender’s register than in our panties?

5 - OTHER - umm, yep, definitely occurred.

There is so much more to say, but we’re both so TIRED and SORE that we can’t remember EVERYTHING we wanted to tell you guys. Can’t you tell by how disorganized and ill-worded the above post is? Maybe there will be a second installment that makes more sense. I already told Beachgirl that she has to blog about her trip down here and the fantabulousness that is ME and Birdie and our crew. Humble, ain’t I?

We hope you guys had a great New Years and look forward to reading your posts!!! Let us know if you have any questions about our weekend endeavors! In the meantime, be sure and answer the following question in your comment: Who, if anyone, did you kiss at midnight????