Druuunk

Opps. After a long and fucking cold day I decided to seek solace in intoxication. I am enjoying both being an "easy date" at 2 shots being enough to make me giddy and the freedom of emotion it grants me. Now mind you blogging while drunk is probably about as smart as drunk dialing your friend (humm I wonder what time it is in California...) but I'm finally feeling free enough to allow myself to feel. I've had a seriously suck ass December. SO! Logic be damned - grammer and spelling can fuck thermselves. Cursing? I'm sorry my one lonely follower I will be swearing up a storm. I enjoy cursing. Cussing is fucking fun. So like it or lick it. I'm fuckinjg cussing.

I cried. I spoke to my husband all of twice on the phone and I got to see some of my amazingly huge extended family at the "event" Viewing, rosary, "proper" funeral, eulagies, bariel the whole works. WOW! First off! Save my family the trouble. All that hoopla is kinda boring. The best p[art of being there was the chance to re connect. The chance to grieve with my extended family, the chance to remember Nonnie as she deserved. All the pomp and citrcumstance was awful. The only good part was the eulogies my dad and his brothers shared. I'd like people to share stories of my life. I'd like them to get royally drunk and have a good time. I DO NOT WANT any of this bu;;shit scary cerimony. I kno9w it's a comfort for the few reliugiously minded. But c'mon!!!

I did enjoy drinking Beilys and cocunt rum outside the viewing to numb the shock of seeing my grandmothers empty shell. But..but.. but...


Goog god there's such a macabe aspect to viewing the dead body of someone you loved someone you knew someone who once flipped you off over a bill.

Yeah. I'd prefer to share happy stories, sad stories. To get rollicking rocking drunk and have a time with family I havn't seen since forever. But;. It was worth it. Worth the fear factor. To comfort Mary, to hug people I havn';t seen since forever (Tommys funeral? A random Thanksgiving?) To remember my str54ong roots, my amazing ties. To realize that part of the reason I go through so much for MY family and MY husband is the strong values passed down a generation from this amazing strong woman. This weak empty shell- I'd have been better off not seeing. I'd rather remember. Ash me oh -please god ash me my family.

Yeah I should quit ranting now!!

Grief

Grief is an imbecile. It's a drunken stumbling moron. I can't seem to pin it down. There are brief flashes where I can't breathe, can't think too numb or overwhelmed to be sensible. Then I'm giddy with a survivors enthusiasm, smelling the air anew, feeling the warmth of a stray sunbeam. I Will miss her, oh how I will. My Nonnie, my grandma. She was tough and quiet. Funny and strong. She went out like a flickering candle weaker and weaker until at last her light was extinguished. A life fully led. A ride taken with hands in the air screaming all the way down. And yet I ache. I hurt. Is it the dilemma of the religiously lost? Is it the discomfort at being relieved for another brief excuse to see my HUGE extended family all in one place - even if they're crying and distraught? I'm trapped in the sludge of some stage of grief I can't identify. Grief, that flickering will-o wisp. Dancing where I can't quite get a hold of it. I'd like to have a good cry, to shake my impotent fists at the skies- but I haven't. And I don't know when/if I will. It's too soon too sharp, too fresh. I'm still gasping still aching from the blow. What's next? What's next?

hybernate?

Ah Fall. Ah winter. Already my toes are tingeling. I've caught my first cold. The desperate fridged promise of weather to come frosts my window sheild. Spoilt desert rat, the promise of color and change lured me from the dusty embrace of a place that I never wanted to call home. The colors are amazing- green, red,brown. The change is new and exciting. The parents and extended family I call home are overbearing at close range but once I've run I find myself glancing back. Over sholder wishing they'd call me back, back home. It's not like I didn't know what I was getting into. This half of the family is so sharp, so harsh so distant. How the person I love can have not only lived with this but warmed to a wonderful person is beyond my sensibilities. There is nothing in me that wants to hold the nettles of his family tree. My children sometimes cry. Daddy gone in a forign land for a job they can't, don't, won't comprehend. The other Grandma either too distant or FAR too close. So sharp and harsh trying to love with her strange smother.
I dread the ice the white the cold. The wind that blasts into the bones. But I wish for snow angles, snow men, and that magical glimmer of frozen morning so I've come to a place that's as close to a forign land a I can manage just yet. For color, for change, for the very same winder I dread.

Pervy lady

It's sick and wrong to be this horny. I feel like an old pervert. Grokking every halfway adorable male I see. I can't seem to help but notice the hotness I'm surrounded by. Usually- I can just look and I'm good. As of late, however, I find myself literally salivating. Captivated by the curve of lip, the swell of bicep. The fluid way their bodies move. I'm a happily married woman, and honestly were I to get my hot little hands on one of these pieces of beefcake I'd probably be happy to tell him to take off his shirt so I could ogle, then send his tight adorable hiney away. But still! I know with Ian gone my hormones are all a mess. And I know I'm nearing my sexual peak (at 30 something, how's that for fair?) and yet I'm still caught off guard by an amazing display of manhood. A spectacular spectator sport of trying not to rubberneck like a fiend on collage campuses (where I should be banned, really) or at certain coffee shops.

Sick and twisted

Ok. I'm lonely. This is true. I'm easily entertained and it is true that accents "do it" for me. But it wasn't the voice, or not just the voice. IT was definatly that story. It's getting to me on amazing levels. I know nobody really follows me over here. I'm releasing the steam on the valves of my subconcious. Psudopod manages to disturb me on a regular basis, they've even managed to facinate me, intreague me. They've managed to make me say "EEEEWW!" in public. Today they managed to ick me out and turn me on. I am officially a freak. "Got milk" does it for me.

reflective

It's officially official. Ian's going to Korea, the girls and I are going to Kentucky. We'll be leaving out somewhere in the middle of July. What an excellent time to be leaving nasty hot Tucson! Kentucky for 1 year, then England for 3. England! It's apparently pretty rural where we're going, but I'm hoping we'll like it/ There will be a lot of opportunities to travel abroad (and we will) so, even if I don't love the BASE we're going to, the chance to explore is one in a million.
And yet.
I'm a bit mopey. I will miss my family, my baby sister will be coming back to AZ in a few months (About a month and a half after I leave lol) And I don't get to see enough of her. I'll miss having my mom and dad for easy weekend company. I'll even miss (probably) this hot dry sun shine drenched weather (not too much I hope- right now I'm sick of it). I'm a little gloomy because this move means a whole nother year without my beloved. And then a whole three years while he adjusts to a jet that he's not used to working with, and that can allegedly be quite the Diva.
I'm afraid of losing the love of my life to a war, strife, or even accident. It's disturbing to me how much I've come to rely on the patience, understanding, and adoration I get from my devoted sweetie. I know it's a bit over the top for an old married lady to still be smoopy over her hubby, but I'm just lucky.
I'll try to keep everything up to date. The next few months, hell, the next four years promise to be... interesting.

cursing less

Mayhap I'll start less posts with sear words? I'd blame hanging around military folk- but it's really all me and my filthy mouth. I'm resolving to swear a little less, at least in print form. I promise nothing about the "pearls" A let fall from my mouth, since the instant I open it, my foot goes right in.

Rhode Island: 4 me: Zip

Dammit. 6 weeks. We're moving in JULY and it'll take 6 weeks for the birth cirtificate to get here. Flying by the seat of our pants or the skin of our teeth. Have I mentioned I seriously hate Rhode Islands department of health? I do, seriously deeply hate them.

feeling elderly

DAMMIT I'm not old yet! My back and my knees act up, I get friggin hot flashes. The other day? I brought a sweater with me to the movie theater 'cause I knew I'd get cold. WTF. I'm only 33!!!

pretty words

these are mine. The ideas, etc. I felt like sharing tho-
Something about him attracted lightening. Maybe his magnetic polarity was off. I don’t know. I know when he stood out in the dry kindling of sagebrush and opened his arms wide he was lit up from the inside out with a sudden glory of light from the heavens. For a moment – surreal glowing like an angel then it’d get to be too much for the both of them and he’d stand blackened and dejected on sand that had turned to crystalline glass. He jittered for hours afterward, his dark ruddy face shone with tears, alternately laughing with insanity and crying like a lost boy. He never was able to convey in words what it was like- that meeting of man and energy, just that it happened. It happened any time he was somewhere open, and when he invited it. I myself didn’t see it. This was a man of the desert, in some ways he was the definition of the sonorant desert, dry, hard, cracked and sand dusted through and through. His occasional smiles and laughter would wash the gullies of his face clean of lines for a moment, sure but he never really struck me as anything special- if anything he was hard and ugly in many ways. It wasn’t my place to judge the storms; I only knew they loved him for sure. They loved him fierce in a way that’d be sure to stop his heart one day.

drat

I was going to come over here to rant aimlessly about being friendless, unloved and horny. But I have a follower now. I believe that means I put my big girls panties on and "discuss" this. Poo.
Fine. Big words, and as few F bombs as I can manage. I'm lonesome. I am amazingly lucky to have the man I married also be my best friend, I'm also amazingly gifted to be close to my family. However? I need a girlfriend. A chick I can whine to about cramps, sex stuff that's only comprehensible to another female, point out cute guys to (heck if I'm lucky enough, point out cute girls to) A friend who is also either in a relationship or not actively on the market so we're on the same wavelength when it comes to relationships. Someone I can go out to fu.. (ahem) FRIGGIN coffee with- or get my hair/nails done with.

I've tried reaching out to old friends, but guess what? My last two best friends (that Are within the same State) are male. sure, neither poses a risk to me sexually (I'm not their type, not the right equipment) but they're both guys. And there's so much old s.. (ahem) STUFF there that it may make reconnecting what used to be great friendships - uncomfortable. This is unfortunate, but, whatever, I'll try real real hard to get past it- and I hope they can too.

This, however, does nothing to help me with the friends issue. I need a buddy, like- yesterday. I need a BF- if not F. Is this something one advertises for? I am a deeply socially awkward person. My tang gets toungled when I'm nervous or excited. This makes me sound phenomenally stupid to someone who doesn't see the wheels spinning at warp speed inside of my head. I have so many plates going in one conversation it's difficult to keep them all going. I know there's no such thing as a friggin Alpaca Goat- Alpaca are llama lookin things and the type of goat I covet is an Angora- but plates spin too fast to keep up with and you get "alpaca goat". I'm not at all dumb.. just tang toungled. I'm great at the initial "hiya" but I'm also a serious oversharer. I giggle when I'm nervous. I laugh at inappropriate seeming moments (see nervous). I am GREAT at sticking my foot in my mouth. (I used the words "death wish" around a very tired very sick old lady. NOT about her, mind you but near .. and.. yes I know that's.. deeply wrong)
I'm not good at admitting I'm wrong, or stopping apologizing. I'm good at empathy. And I listen quite well. I'll laugh at the jokes, and mirror body language. I'm also unreasonably picky, and I'm fickle. Spreading my attentions around, and avoiding potential invitations to further a friendship 'cause I'm scared.

Seriously.. Can I just advertise for my perfect friend lady? Does she even exist? is she cute?

today

Today, I clean! I am forcing my self to put on music and get proactive with my house. Yes, i'm still a little footsore- but so thefuck what?

bbbuuuh

I'm seriously tempted to go into a long speil about how my husband is crazy and I need to make more friends (apparently I need a higher ratio of female buddies) but instead?
Bunnnnies!
I looked at Angora rabbit pictures.

Covet covet.

And Alpaca? Still want one. And deserve one for him trying to make me feel guilty about something that.. mmm nevermind look~

Bunnies!!1!

Inked

Sure it hurt- not as much as i thought it would. I've spent years looking for just the right tat- just the right artist. I was so lucky to find this girl. This is what's been in my head for nearly a decade. On the left you can see the black koi perfectly hides the first "tat" I got (when I was 17)- Not art more like body graffiti. I am beyond words pleased. The symbolism of koi swimming upstream, dreaming of becoming dragons. This has meant something to me for some time- and Now that my journey to become the awesome person I always wanted to be has begun- getting this gorgeous art is defiantly going to help me along the way.

Warning viewers: If you enlarge the pictures they're big- Ihave only slightly cropped and resized them. AND my computer space is messy. I don't clean my "office" as often as I should.

this is gonna hurt

ANd it's totally my slightly delayed b-day gift! THE gift of pain! I'm getting my tattoo tomorrow. Pictures posted as soon as it heals. Wish me much-o luck!!

screw you RI

Seriously this is now the FOURTH time I've sent Rhode Island paperwork for a name change for the elder child. They just keep dicking me around. First it's ooo they lost my records.. then it's that they didn't get enough money (and yet never contacted me) Now.. I supposidly didn't send in the right paper. FUCK. RI.

hot bones person

played by a female even if on the show something did shift.

not that it mattered to me either way... the character was seriously adorable. I wanted to bite.

empty space

I wonder how one gets followers? I'm not planning on taking off my top (trust me, you wouldn't wanna see the "grils" anyway) I'm not gonna pimp myself for ad space (not yet anyway)- and I'm not gonna beg- unless I have to. How does one get started getting followers. I'd ask somone- but I'm the only person who reads my blog. so sad.

Pissin' the time away

Spring break has begun today. Until Tuesday my girls are out of school, Since the Husband is on a midnight shift- I'll have to keep the girls out of the house. Oh nos! I have a plan for today, none for tomorrow, and Hubby returns to his "normal" shift next week, so no problem for Monday.
The plan today is to take my munchkins to the "butterfly magic" exhibit at my local botanical garden. They'd get a kick out of it and we can kill extra time by seeing the rest of the gardens. Lots of walking, plenty of areas where they can flat out run. I'll need to take good pain killers to keep my back and knees from acting up, but I honestly think the girls ill have a blast today.
The issue being.. what do I do with them tomorrow?

My pods

I am an avid listener to quite a few story based podcasts. I've been finding I have less and less time for the written word. This kind of sucks, but! I have these amazing podcasts that supply me with GREAT stories. My Favorite trilogy is put out by the Escape Artists cast and crew. There's Escape pod: Fiction of the sci-fi variety. Psudopod: Horror and Podcastle: Fantasy All three are truly excellent!