Of mice and men.

Dear Internet,

1:43 am.
I'm not sure how to begin because I'm not sure of the ending. I tend to think that when writing for the public you should know your material, have an outline and maybe an idea of the ending. In this case I have none.

1:45 am.
That would probably be a good idea right? A theme. For the sake of propriety we'll name the theme "Deliberations" and try to stick to the subject matter.

1:46 am.
There's a movie going on in the background and it's throwing off my concentration. Might I state here for the record, TV is of Satan. Distressingly, I can't move as the only internet I have is attached to a cord shorter than the sound vicinity.

1:48 am.
Nothing. I'm moving to another room.

1:58 am.
I talked to a friend who suggested that love is a choice, an option that we can either embrace or shun. Correct me, amigo, if I have said this wrong. I guess I want to garner opinions.

It has been my personal experience that love sneaks up on you like a bandito and just when you think you're in the clear it ambushes you with all it's amorous intentions. Is it just a choice we make to surrender to it?

2:08 am.
I know you've trotted naked around your room/apartment and felt a delicious sense of well-being.

2:10 am.
I make a mean cabbage/mushroom/garlic stir-fry and poo-on-you for turning it down, Ta-Ta because it might make you fart. You only live once. Relish it.

2:17 am.
Seven minutes to make those last couple trivial lines. That either means that my brain is slowing down (likely) or it takes me longer to think of inane things (likelier) -- as opposed to deep things, obviously because I am Very deep and Very much a Thinker. Cough Cough. Ahem.

2:20 am.
On a sadder note, I will probably die of something tragic like a broken heart or a kneecap tumor.
(ps. I DID take an online test that predicted that I will most likely die of auto-erotic axphyxiation. (??) note to self: stay away from belts)

2:22 am.
Deliberation seems to have died in light of senseless banter. But I'm REALLY trying to debilerate this idea of love being a conscious decision rather than an erratic lovemaking of souls. Because if the choice was mine I'd Totally choose to fall in love with a squirrel.
In Futurespect, the squirrel would ignore me completely for his nuts and I would be left having to find my own tree, nutless and probably with an improperly conditioned tail making it frizzy and then, of course, unattractive to other squirrels.

2:32 am.
Humans are retarded.

2:33 am.
Eye am we todd did.

2:34 am.
Squirrels might also be retarded although I would have to research this further, against my better judgement.

2:35 ammm...

Over. Due.

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

--Damien Rice--

What was I trying to say last year? I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. Probably laugh.

Save me now cause you want to
Forgotten since summer had tune.

Needlessly squander your earnings.
Because I've made a fortune on you.

Hello and goodbye to such wanderings.
Everything left has been sold.

And all that I am and now will be.
Is sewed up and buried with mold.

For sure you are a master.
For sure I am a fraid.

For sure you keep me waiting.
For you I guard the gate.

Everything comes up now natural.
All of it jetsam and debris.

I need to choke on your harbour.
But sanity is wind lost at sea.

Kiss me with lips that are withered
Sing me a sad, heartfelt song.

Even your afterthoughts fall empty.
And I am a frustrating singalong.


Little kicks

Today I discover that seeing cyclists in their tightie spandex gives me a little thrill. Although the thought of men dancing around in tightie spandex (a la 80's) gives me a chill.



Because I am burning with passion..

Turn up the volume, you lovers. Theres a little Don Julio in all of us..

ps. i realize that last sentence sounds wrong, you gutter mind.


Month IV

I think the fun has just started because this last month you've discovered NOISE. True and honest to goodness squeaks, chortles, grunts and nostril flaring.

Usually, I'm changing your diaper and maybe it's the exhilarating feeling of your bottom and nethers exposed to the air that brings out the conversationalist in you. I know it would me.
Your eyes widen, your lips curl into a tense, tight OOOOh, and - this is the best part - your eyebrows wiggle and contort as if they and they alone could single-handedly impress upon me the gravity of the tale you tell.
Hand and spastic feet motion accompany this undeniably epic drama. I'm not exactly sure on all points of your pronounciation but I'm pretty sure it deals on themes of high joy, abject sorrow, enters realms of deepest tragedy (expressed by a heartbreaking wail with upturned head) and then suddenly break into a comedic score

On this note you've shown an definite streak of the humorous (read, foolish). I have no idea where you might have picked this up. Assuredly not from my family, serious old codgers that they are. Maybe your fathers'side. Heh heh heh.

Then too, you've also started embarassing me in public. Usually in a very crowded store or maybe a library. Quiet places where people are bustling about very efficiently, Not To Be Disturbed. You'll decide this is the perfect spot to strike up your best operatic score. The one you must have been practicing in the bathroom alone with your hairbrush when I wasn't around because, let me tell you, it is perfected to a T.
Those nearest have only a split second of recognition because then their ears simultaneously explode. Those fortunate enough to have an aisle or two of sound padding between them and the Wild Banshee find that their only recourse is to curl into the fetal position, heads between their knees.
That's when we make our escape. Jumping over the prone, twitching bodies that litter the ground in our wake.

Although this is certain to bring you fame and fortune when you're older, following my footsteps towards world domination, right now it's forcing me to perfect my "Heh. Kids. What can you do?" smile while forcing a chuckle and looking contrite.

Have I told you that your eyes are way too intelligent looking for your little body. It's unsettling.

Have I also told you that I love you to teensy tinsy pieces?
That's unsettling as well. How easily I've come undone. From being an independent, on-top-of-things person (or so I like to think) to a goo-goo babbling dork.

How the coolest part of my day is when you kick (my stomach) and squirm for an hour every morning before you actually can get your eyes open and when I finally roll you onto my chest your head pops up with your huge bright eyes, little squishy bed-cheeks and the most mischevious ear to ear toothless grin as if you think you're a real laugh and I should be laughing too.

And I always do.
Much love, Mommy


Anonymous Vacation II

Last we heard was:

'And so I'm left wondering, leaving right now and still clueless. I hope he's trustworthy..'

As it turns out Seth is a very cunning man. All this time, I never knew what he was capable of. I should keep a closer eye on him from now on.

I'm packing and trying to get hints. "Should I bring a towel?" "What about my toothbrush?" "Do you think I'll need my passport?" "My fuzzy chicken shoes?"

Nothin' doin'. He's as tight-lipped as a mummy.

We get in the car...heading SOUTH. Ah-HA! says I in my head. We're obviously heading towards..what? What's south?

I decide not to just relax and accept my fate after we pass every possible exit that I assumed we might exit on. I pull out a book and start reading.

Two hours later we're downtown San Antonio and Seth admits, "I've kind of lost my bearings." We pull into a a hotel parking lot and I suggest, "Why don't you ask for directions in there?"

Seth goes in and I'm waiting, and waiting...and then I start thinking. Is it possible that he could be this wily? That he could actually PLAN it that I would seem I suggested for him to go in when in reality this was our destination all along?

As it turns out, he had booked this place days in advance and had been planning it for like two weeks..a suite on the Riverwalk . Too cool.

The next two days were spent exploring and feasting..mostly. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe, Ripleys Believe It or Not Museum (I love those kinds of things), saw a bagpiper, ate quail and melt-in-your-mouth steak, and lazed around indoors when it rained.

I was mostly too forgetful to take pictures..so i have only dees

Ultimately, it turned out to be one of the best surprises ever. Thank you, Seth. You're pretty amazing.


Super Bowel XVi

This was a game where, in all honesty, I was ambivalent towards either team.

The most excited I got was within the first 10 seconds of the game when the Bears scored on the Colts during the kickoff but due to miscommunication I understood that it was made by the team that I was rooting for, though non-commitally, but in actuality was masterfully run by the opposing forces that connived to gain victory...aaand..you get the picture. Whatever.

The sweetness was that we had 25+ people stuffed into our small apartment like..sardines, haha, no really -- maybe like hotdogs in those little plastic packages because sardines are smelly and overused and hotdogs always look like they're just a bunch of good friends hanging out in a vaccuum suctioned plastic bag just waiting to be selected in the supermarket because of their chummy demeanor because THEY WANT TO, not because some one stuffed them all in together and they secretly hate each others little hotdog innards.
I made it my solemn dootie to meander about and catch everyone with their game-est faces on. This is a series I would loove to have enlarged, framed and placed on my wall.

And then just the candid party snaps...it was also David's birthday and since he's one of the swellest people I know we had to spank him extra hard. (betcha don't remember THIS, hmm? hmm?)

or this..

or this..

Babes, mad babes

I think we wanted a picture of this elusive vixen but she sure wasn't putting out..

Thus y thus it came about. And Thus y thus I take my leave.

Oh wait. I almost forgot..I scorthed big way, big way. amen.