Monday, December 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Onward to the rain and being out in it much of the rest of Saturday led to not getting the tree and other decorations out of storage as I meant to do. After waffling back and forth about whether or not to have the tree (and other decorations) I finally decided, yes, I would, only now to be down to . . . well, Saturday at the earliest the chosen square of space can be bedecked. One week. Well, actually two as it will be up at least until NYD. Well, that is, if happens at all.
I am of the opinion that the largest contributing factor to the oddness of this week however, is the missing CTA CSA. The CSA normally manning the station where I begin my daily commute to work is sugary sweet cheerful in the mornings with her, "Good Morning, Precious!" to each and every customer / passenger. I will admit, some mornings sing-song chirpiness bordered on annoyance, I realized this week not only did I miss the routine, chirpy and all, I'd also come to rely on it lifting me ever so . . .
This week nearly done has one more work day that will be sliced in half by our annual holiday, "whatever the hell you wanna call it" get-together. It is a pot-(you might get lucky and get something you like or can eat) gathering. This will be the first gathering of the trio of companies. It shall be in a word, interesting if not, odd.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Anyhoo. . . . speaking of dogs, to be specific, hot dogs. I don't eat hot dogs all that often. But, now and again a good Chicago Style Dog is just the ticket. And since a new place opened in the neighborhood AND there was a coupon, well, no time like the present.
The new sandwich place (that of the arm waving man dressed like a hot dog) features beef, pork, turkey, and chicken products serves something called a Chicago Style Pretzel Dog. Which is just a hot dog with the classic toppings (tomatoes, onions, relish, mustard, sport peppers, celery salt, and pickles) on a pretzel roll (which takes it out of the Chicago Style realm, as that roll is poppy seed). Intriguing if you're in to that sort of thing, which I am, from time to time and the time was today.
Whatever hopes I had were dashed as soon as I discovered:
1. it wasn't a footlong hot dog sandwiched between all that bread, but two regular sized dogs fighting for space among the gigantic tomato wedges and other toppings.
2. it was slathered with mustard. Now, I like mustard on my dogs but there was GOMPERS of mustard on this thing!
3. the worst technical error in the history of hot dog serving technical errors. The damn dog(s) were C-O-L-D.
Now, I'll forgive that they don't seem to have a grill or a proper steamer (they should get out of the hot dog biz immediately if they don't intend to acquire one or the other, or BOTH) but to pull these limp tubes of meat product out of a vat of c-o-l-d water is just w-r-o-n-g! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Unfortunately, I didn't know the water (& the dogs) were cold until I got home, taken off shoes, one of the two pairs of socks, pants, and 3 of the 4 top layers. So no, there was no going back out.
I did taste the sandwich I picked up for D (an Italian Beef--except with turkey) dipped, and topped with peppers and it was ok. I don't think I'll be replacing my fave Italian beef with this turkey version, but it wasn't bad. It was hot which was a major plus over the dogs.
The fries were good. Not great, but ok. And the toppings were fresh.
I have to give the new sandwich place a C for the first round. It may be awhile before round two (if they last that long). When or If, I definitely won't be ordering a hot dog.
Now, must go watch O*rah talk it out with B. Walt*rs.
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
That, and it is still frickin cold, but that isn't worthy of poetry or prose. 'Tis December. Chicago. 'Nuff said.
In other news, some reviews were released for M's most recent play. He doesn't read them but can't totally escape them. I might not have sought them out except I was very curious given all he'd relayed during pre-production. It's been UP now for over a week (when you factor in previews) and I saw the third of three "preview" performances. And of the few reviews I've found and read, I agree to some degree. And all bias aside, I agree that M's performance is "intense"*, "wound tight perfection"* and "expertly volatile"*.
The run is just through the end of the year (well, actually January 2nd) and I'm hoping for another opportunity to see it. It really is a good play.
*Didn't link to the reviews as I think they give too much of the plot away and I wouldn't want to spoil it for anyone who might be in the position to see if--presuming, of course, you're not already familiar with the play, "Lobby Hero".
Monday, December 06, 2010
Some trees drooping under the weight.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
On this date four years ago, I wrote
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The first day of winter.
Ok no, not that. The other big one.
Well, actually December is full of big celebratory days, events, and observances. BiG Talk about frenzy.
But, for now as November ebbs away I take this moment to delight in arriving home to find one cat in the dog's bed, the other cat in my bed, and the dog in a cat bed. And about a text message from my daughter:
Man, Michael was super stoked when I explained to him that there was more Thanksgiving in the freezer. hahahahahaha I could use some stuffin.
Today and everyday thankful for the gift of life they all bring to my life.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Something felt off. Something was off . . . the oven. Oh, damn.
Trying to get the beast working for the next hour or so, thoughts ranging from schlepping the turkey to mom's (who isn't answering her phone) to finish roasting or scratching turkey from the menu and making due with what is done or can be completed on the stove top and many more in between ran through my mind.
Thanks the luck of the Irish the oven worked (enough) to get everything done. And according to all diners it was all good.
Thanksgiving 2010 will be remembered as the one when grandma arrived on time (unaware of the oven debacle as it will forever be called) as she wasn't home when I called and hadn't gone home prior to arriving promptly at the previously planned 2 p.m. start time. We will recall going to the Amana website, looking for a manual for our aged stove/oven calling an 800 number in hopes of getting a miracle answer to what daughter describes as, "her worst nightmare." We will recount the giddiness felt when the familiar "whoosh" signaled, "all systems go" even if brief. We hoped for the best, prepared for something less.
It all worked out. The oven is, for the most part, kaput. But, dinner is done, we all had fun and now there is wine, rest, and a bit later, sweet potato pie with whipped cream, sprinkled with a bit of cinnamon.
I am thankful for my daughter's laughter, her boyfriend's presence, my son's healthy appetite, my mother's critical jabs (for really? they make me stronger--and she doesn't mean me any harm, it is just her way), being a lucky Irish woman on this day and many more. And while I am extremely thankful for the bounty that was our meal table, I would have been just as thankful peanut butter and jelly so long as I was surrounded the loves of my life.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
And so on this day (every day, really) with the aromas of part of tomorrow's dinner wafting through our space, I am thankful for memories and for the joyous times I've had with my son and daughter.
I am ever grateful that they are here and we are lucky to spend another day, eating, talking, and laughing together.
Here's to making more memories.
Happy Thanksgiving to one and all.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Monday morning? 60. THIS morning? 30.
And shortly afterward, Pete sneezed three times.
Then the day was full of the usual workday routines, frustrations, and more but many moments plodded like an interminable clog. It's the short week syndrome. It's like having two Mondays. Oh. The. Horror.
I know you're asking, "Well then, Miss Deborah, what the blazes are you thankful for today?"
Well today it is chocolate. Today was a two chocolate bar day, thankyouverymuch.
And later, beer. THANKyouverymuch.
And since this IS a short week, Wednesday is Friday!! Which,thanks to good advice and great musical inspiration, I know now, how to act.
Monday, November 22, 2010
But, it was a difficult day made more so by the rain. Oh. The. Rain.
However, thankfully, (so far) my area has escaped the worst of it and though my feet, ankles, shins, knees (and the fabric covering them) were soaked through and through, I was nearly home when the squishing began in earnest.
Now I am dry, re-dressed in warm lounge-wear. I am about to devour a steaming bowl of chicken and rice soup. And later I will pop some corn and hunker down to a warm, peaceful rest of the night.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
- for a sunshiny day.
- for mom's gracious gift of food (and most importantly, shopping)
- for daughter's breakfast treat.
- for comfy shoes.
- for that crazy cat.
- for bullet points.
- for being closer rather than farther from home when a nail flattened the bike's rear tire.
. . . to be continued. . .
Friday, November 19, 2010
The Fridays were doing their level best to stir my interest but, very little interest was to be had. Fridays were nothing more than a beacon, signaling the end of a long week and the all too short respite before the next long week begins.
I came dangerously close to dreading Fridays.
Then a friend and email titled, "It's Friday So Act Like It Dammit!" and so I did. And so I am.
I am oh so thankful for this day, Friday. And oh so very thankful for friends in general and that friend in particlar.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
And given that Wednesday was somehow skipped over, I am doubly thankful that I completed winterizing mom's apartment before the days and nights became too much colder.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Thankful for the quiet and relative peacefulness of the scenes.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Hot dogs are not in my top ten (or even 20) but now and again I get a hankering. Said, hankering calls for a Chicago style dog, celery salt, poppyseed bun, and sport peppers included. Though, I can do without the putrid green relish. Icky-poo. Hi-ever, add some kick-ass fries and aaahhh hankering satisfied, till the next time.
Onward to the giving thanks moment: I am thankful for the raffle that netted me a gift card to a hipster coffee / sandwich shop, where I scored a roast beef on rye, mustard, tomato, pepper jack cheese, cucumber, and a side of blue cheese potato salad. Lunch was lip smacking, mood altering, delish.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Well, without going into the back and forth we had over this, let me just say, I didn't hold on to the cards. I gave them theirs, opened mine.
And in the spirit of giving thanks, often (if not daily) this (if not every) month, without further delay:
1. I am thankful for my mother. 2. I am thankful for words. 3. I am thankful for a warm snap. 4. I am thankful for the two cats trading spaces on my bed. 5. I am thankful the dog requires assistance to get on the bed. 6. I am thankful for sport peppers. 7. I am thankful for crayons. 8. And speaking of mothers . . .yeah, thankful. 9. I am thankful for my BP thingy.
10. I am thankful for cocoa butter 11. I am thankful for and give thanks to the men and women who served honorably, admirably.
And as it will soon be the twelve day of this month, 12: thanks to my adult children My daughter went shopping and while she didn't get milk, she did get bananas. My son rocked his audition and was feeling excellent on his way to dinner, then rehearsal. He called to share his glee. Thanks, y'all are the best!
. . . to be continued.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The summons was for stand-by, which meant calling after 4:30 p.m. the day before to learn IF I had to trek nearly 16 miles to the county courthouse near Chicago's "North Shore".
The recorded message said, "if your last name begins with B as in Bravo through and including Z as in Zulu, you must appear." And so, I had to prepare myself for the trek. The public transpo website provided several public transpo options. All those available to me meant and hour and forty-five minutes travel time.
Thanks to several road construction zones, the commute actually took two hours and thirty minutes. Lovely.
Six hours after clearing security and checking in, I was released with the thanks of the court and a check for my time and trouble, $17.20. We, the prospective jurors were told that four trials were scheduled; two criminal, two civil. All four cases settled without the need for a jury.
The return commute home was shaved by only 30 minutes.
Worn out, I ate. Slept. Which of course meant that I was awake at 2 a.m. listening to (if not sneaking a peak at) "Jaws" on television.
A Tuesday lost. A weary Wednesday.
. . . to help out thEBalzie, the actor is currently in rehearsal for "Lobby Hero", he is playing William. And speaking of, he just closed a run of a Stoppard play and begins rehearsals for the next, August Wilson's "Radio Golf" days after "Lobby Hero" closes. In between, he's auditioning, auditioning, and auditioning.
Monday, November 08, 2010
2. Fried pie: generic, mass produced, apple.
3. The actor's epiphany had to do with current role. He struggled with how to play his character's opening scene. Walking home from rehearsal the other night--inspiration (epiphany) struck. He talked it out, worked it out, played it out for for audience of one (me) and is satisfied with result.
Word is, director is pleased with the current path.
Being witness to him working out, working on his various characters is almost as much fun as watching the entire production.
Downside is: now super anxious to see the end result.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
2. I had a bite of fried pie today. The first in many, many years.
3. I know why I've stayed away from fried pies.
4. Hi-ever, the taste of fried pie triggers: cookies.
5. Except there aren't any cookies.
6. That's probably a good thing.
7. The actor is home and he's had an epiphany.
8. He's fun.
9. As is the pup as she tosses her soccer ball to herself.
10. Did someone say something about cookies?
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Now, however the issue is forks. Forks are walking away (not with the spoons, the spoons are staying put) at a slow and steady pace. But oddly enough, not all the forks, only the smaller forks, what I like to call, my favorite forks.
As of today all but one (well, two since I keep a fork at work) has gone away. Though perplexed by these disappearing acts I'm not dwelling on the how or why. My focus is spot-on keeping that final fork by my side.
Or under lock and key.
Or . . . something
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Diamond is begging, bouncing on her hind legs, for my peanut butter (chunky) and pineapple preserves on a very nutty bread, sandwich.
Pete is splayed in the middle of my bed and will become all harumpfy when go back to retire for the night.
Buttah is right here on the desk, helping me tyyype. As you might imagine he isn't much help. But, he insists on being part of the process, whatever process that is in process at an given moment.
Otherwise, all is quiet.
Well, except for the rat-a-tat going on inside my head. Beyond the work yada x3, and home yada x3, there is this: I miss . . . everything.
Monday, October 18, 2010
1. Your mom (and her crew) deliver a new (free) refrigerator 30 minutes early, freaking out the furries (well, except people friendly Buttah).
2. Due to the early arrival no chance to clear a place, prep the area which results in chaos (and other people IN my kitchen and old fridge)
3. Spending the bulk of the evening shifting 2 refrigerators; 1 out of place and the other, in.
4. Time not spent shifting the refrigerators was wiping, shelf building, sorting, storing, clearing, wiping, dumping, washing, and then finally preparing dinner, all of which delayed . . .
5. the nice, quiet, dinner followed by shower, rest, and relaxation by over two hours.
Hi-ever, on the upside there is a new (well, new to me) refrigerator with interior lights and zero leakage, in place. Thank you mom (& crew).
:::this is me, NOT making plans for Tuesday:::
Most mornings I prefer the walk over the riding as the walk affords the opportunity to gaze at the splendor of the trees.
This time of year most of the trees still have their leaves and most are still green. But there are a few that sport leaves in various stages of greens, yellows, and oranges.
Most mornings (of late) have been sun shiny bright and when that light shines on the multiple colored trees many more hues appear . . . splendiferous!
Most mornings while soaking in the splendor of the trees, many thoughts like a co-worker becoming a friend, a daughter's recovery, a son's excitement over current and future projects, and more cross my mind.
What I try to avoid thinking about is how few of these crisp, bright, splendiferous mornings we have left.
Most mornings I succeed.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Arms and heart wide open truth be told.
My darling daughter celebrated birthday number twenty-five, October 11th. And while this hasn't been a stellar year for her (us) she (we) are forging on. As some wise person said, "every difficulty is opportunity is disguise." Cheers and here's to the next twenty-five.
Friday, October 08, 2010
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Friday, October 01, 2010
Granted, I didn't witness Buttah breaking the teapot, but all the gathered evidence, circumstantial it may be, points to the orange boy. His reputation precedes him.
Still, that isn't to suggest that the grey / brown boy is by any means sans issues. He has issues up the whazoooo. We are currently battling over his scratching the baseboards, forays atop the kitchen counter as well as and refrigerator. Yes, orange boy is up there too but were it not for Pete, Buttah would not have ventured. Probably.
However, all things considered, they are a wonderful pair of felines and partnered with the poop eatin' diva dog a fantabulous trio. They are a welcome sight after long hard days that, that, well make me wanna . . .
We have the place to ourselves now and for the next several hours. And while this might be prime time to address some of the respective issues, no can do. I will be joining them in the one activity they each have down to an artform and for which there aren't any qualms: relaxing.
To echo the sentiments of one of my former co-workers, "Happy Friday!"
Thursday, September 30, 2010
It is a small, ceramic, green teapot. It once posed decoratively on the lowest of a three shelf book and/or knick-knack shelving unit. It is now in two pieces. Well, technically three, the two base pieces held together by the bamboo handle.
It can be repaired. Hot glue should do.
Once repaired it will nestle snugly in my daughter's moving (eventually) box where some of other precious breakables live.
Who did IT? Rhetorical. We all know Buttah did IT. It is what he does. But then, it isn't really his fault. He is clumsy and I know that.
And I think he enjoys watching things fall and crash. I see him push and shove objects around until they fall to the floor. Nearly immediately upon impact he peers around with those iridescent eyes, satisfaction radiating from his whiskers.
He saunters away to nibble some kibble. Once sated, he returns, yowling to be held, cradled like a baby. It is what he does.
And I know this.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I feel for him though. Several times a day (judging by what I witness most evenings and over the weekend) he has to fend off not only Buttah's playful jousting but Diamond's attentions as well. Have you ever seen a dog hump a cat? From the side? Hardeharharhar funny stuff. He submits for all of 15 seconds before he leaps out of her grasp. She licks her bearded chops as though to say, "another time my pretty, another time."
But, the antics of my nutty, (apparently horny, at least in Diamond's case, though I'm convinced Buttah has a love jones for Pete, yes in that way) furry babies is not the topic today. No, the topic today is the monthly visitor. Well, not monthly anymore but certainly still visiting, at least this month. One moment while I, aaarrrrrrrgggggggahhhh!
Now, the odd, unfinished, barely formed dreams make sense. Well, not the dreams but the fact of the dreams. See, I hardly dream. Or rather, I hardly ever remember (any parts) of my dreams. But recently there was the dream that started with my daughter in one of my old childhood homes that ending with me and a stranger (guy) dancing. The other night I dreamt that I was being forced to wear high heeled shoes. Ugly, high heeled shoes. Last night's dream had my daughter becoming my mother, my son became my father, and the animals became my in-laws. We were sitting down to a meal and arguing about papayas.
What confounds me about the visitor "Auntie Flo" especially in this stage (since my early to mid forties) of life aside from never knowing when or even that it will arrive is that every pre-arrival is different. Sometimes it is insomnia. Others, I crave salty food. And still others, I crave sweets, especially chocolate. Sometimes all of those conditions barrel in on me at once. This time it is the dreams. And while I linked my recent (and current) eczema flare-up to the stress over the job situation and concern over family and friends, I wonder if there is a tie-in to the visitor.
Anyhoo...I'll deal. The one positive about the most recent visits, well, actually, there are two positives: 1. they are infrequent (at least this past year) and 2. they don't last long (at least this past year). I do so hope the 10 plus day cycles are all ovah!
But, even more confounding that the visits, the pre-visit symptoms, and all the rest . . . even more confounding is why in the blue blazes is the Diva Dog eating the cat's poop?
Will have to tackle that another day. Now, I shall finish the coffee and sneak away quietly as Pete, Diamond, and Buttah are enjoying an after breakfast nap. Nap one of two hundred, the most important nap of the day.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
I don't like riding in the rain, but especially don't like riding in flash flood type rains. So, I took cover under the massive awning of a massive gas station. I stepped inside the mini-mart to to purchase some tissues to use for wiping off my glasses and blowing my nose hoping the cold I was working out of my system wouldn't find a way back in.
While waiting out the torrential rain, songs began to flood my mind.
Songs about rain.
I made it home without getting too damp but damp enough to shed the clothes, jump in the shower, take a dose of cold and allergy (for the eczema) meds and lie myself down, forgetting about the rain and the songs.
Until today, when walking home from the train I got caught in the rain. And the songs came pouring back into my mind.
Over The Rainbow with a . . . Twist bled into Bring On The Rain followed by Can You Stop the Rain which naturally led me to query Who'll Stop The Rain.
A couple of claps of thunder later and I couldn't stop thinking of Singing In The Rain from falling, falling . . . Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head.
Shaking that tune loose opened the gates to simply, Rain, Fire and Rain, Mandolin Rain, and Purple Rain. The lightning dancing across the sky put me in the mind of a Rainy Night in Georgia leaking into She's My Kind of Rain, which makes me weep (still, a bit) as does, I Wish It Would Rain, every time I hear it.
The rains did let up enough to continue on with the chores but on the way home there was reason to exclaim, Here Comes The Rain Again .
And finally, Don't Rain On My Parade. These are not necessarily my favorite rain themed songs but are the floating mostly freely about my being. Well, that said, I guess, in one way or another, they are favored.
Feel free to share your rainy day songs.
And oh, since wer'e talking about rain check out Perpetuum Jazzile simulating rain--and singing. (another eb find, natch)
***And to Miss "I'm not a damn poodle!" here's to having lunch without an audience. :-)
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Additionally, there have been dreams. Or rather, snippets of dreams. Or more accurately, I'm only remembering the snippets of some of the dreams. As in:
My daughter was nine or ten and apparently, my only child. We were living in a house that looked very much like the rental my family lived at one point during my own childhood.
It was a sunny day, and daughter yelled that she was going outside to play and taking her bike. I heard her struggle to pull the bike from a front closet, and then the screen door slam shut. Making my way to the front to latch the door, annoyed by the sight of her toddler bike sitting in the middle of the hall--a constant reminder that she's older and that bike should be given away, as it is taking up room we don't have--I hear noises on the porch.
Curious, but a bit alarmed, I rush to latch the screen door. The man with two small children, gender indeterminate, appear to be deciding who should knock--when they realize, as one, that knocking isn't necessary.
Addressing the man, I ask, "may I help you?" He begins to talk while at the same time, reaching for the door. Though re-latched, he begins to pull on the door. I ask them all to please leave my porch. The children sit down while the man continues to pull on the door. I know it will give soon, so I yell, "PLEASE LEAVE or I'll call the police", as I move to close the wooden door.
In the next moment, the man was inside the house pleading, "please, let's just have some fun." The children remained seated on the porch. I ask the man again to please leave. He responded to my request by beginning to dance. Well, not dancing so much as . . . performing, or rather, exercising.
Ala, Hip-Hop Abs.
Then, I'm awake with a cat (the orange one) on my chest.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Coughing, that is the worst. You're on the train and the fit comes over you. Best not to try to suppress, for that only makes matters worse. You hack and wheeze up a lung. Some riders try to ignore you, others stare daggers at you as though you are deliberately trying to make them sick, while still others, offer you a cough drop.
Coughing, that is the worst.
Or no, worst than coughing is the sneak attack sneeze. That sneeze that results in a big wad of snot shooting out your nose, and dangling down over your lips, chin. All before you were able to grab a tissue from the pack . . . you left on your desk.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
There was a beginning, or rather, the workings of a beginning but it hasn't gone much further. Yet.
And perhaps it won't. Like I said before, I can't think. I'm not drinking today, but still, I can't think. That is to say that I'm having trouble thinking beyond the here and now. And what is here and now is work. jobs. sales. finances. and yes, eating. drinking. and too, having the where-with-all to be some kind of merry. Not to mention the where-with-all to maintain hearth and home.
For the moment, a personal impending crisis been averted. I can't go further than that because it feels . . .well, I'm still somewhat . . . wow. Still, as distressing as the prospective news was, it wasn't devastating. It could have been worse. And it may be at some point, but for now, I'm breathing a tad bit easier today than I was the other.
In other news, I haven't had any potato chips in since just before I turned fifty. Oh sure, that may not big news to you, but to me? It's gi-norm-us.
*click the pic h/t
Friday, September 10, 2010
The thoughts that continue to circle my mind are mired in devastation--and various folks reaction to same. And I suppose I can frame my story around the thoughts that are circling my mind, but I don't want to--well, I do, but I don't.
I know, I'm not making any sense. You see, I've been drinking. I haven't had a drink all week, until today and today I've had three. Well, two and two-thirds.
The story could be up-lifting, but I'm not feeling at all up-lifted at the moment. So, best to table the story, for now. But, like I typed previously, I may scrap it altogether.
An old acquaintance, dare I say friend (though, until recently we hadn't spoken or seen one another for many, many years) was curious about my transition from straight to gay--you see, she knew me when . .
I linked to a couple of my previous posts on the topic. Re-reading her email I find I'm intrigued by the wording . . .transition which, if I were more sober I could elaborate. But, I'm not. And so, I can't.
A neighbor is playing a piano concerto (recording) over and over. It was irritating the first 50 times, now I realize it is drowning out the diva dog's snores. And so, play on.
And one last thing: I wish I could say that I'm surprised or amazed at the cruelty of humans. But sadly, I am not. Some folks are cruel, mean, sadistic, s.o.b.s. And to those meanies who are making the lives of my friends miserable, shame on you...you sniveling sacks of snot.
And on that note, I'm going to try to get some sleep.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
2. Number one is making for challenging work days and yet another cause for sleepless nights.
3. Still, I manage to get another Gayborhood entry done.
4. I don't think I mentioned August's entry.
5. Have I mentioned how much fun these are to do? Oh sure, I agonize over a topic for a few days, but that's part of the fun. :)
6. If you're checking out the Gayborhood, YaY and Thank You.
7. If you're not . . . . well, think about it. Good stuff. Seriously.
8. My older brother is 52 today. Cheers to him, wherever he is.
9. My dad celebrated number 72 earlier this month. Cheers to him, wherever he is.
10. Several friends and acquaintances are experiencing some challenging times these days. I'm in the midst of my own challenging situation (beyond the watery, scratchy allergy eyes). But, this to all of you, my heart and thoughts are with you.
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
One glaring factor, I'm reasonably certain, is that dagnabbit change o' life crapola. Those heat spurts that I didn't experience through much of my forties and which began as slow burns are now hot. flashing. in every sense of those words. I'm reasonably certain I'm drinking much too much beer, but water (even icy) just ain't gettin' it done.
This new state of affairs will require a bit of study and more adjusting.
Still, the heat and said effects are only partly at issue. I think. Also in play, close the door. let me rub your back when you say it's sore, come on get closer and closer, so close to me baby, let's get lost in each other, come here baby*
Or rather, ahem..
Not, mind you that there is anyone (at present) with whom to explore, experience, explo . . . well, you get the idea. But, the heat, so to speak, full on. Is that a fifties thing? Anyhoo . .
I am also experiencing a bit of a crush. It won't go anywhere, has no where to go, but at the moment, said crush is getting me going, if you feel me as the (well, some) kids say.
In the meantime, turn off the lights, and light a candle, tonight I'm in a romantic mood. Let's take a shower, shower together, I'll wash your body, you'll wash mine. Rub me down in some hot oils baby, and I'll do the same thing to you. . .* ahem..
In the meantime. Ice. Cold. Relief. Please. Thanks.
*lyrics from T. Pendergrass (Close the Door & Turn Off The Lights)