A pond to call home.....

Everyone here - those that love dry land and those that don't, are tired, very tired. The move has left me exhausted and sore, covered with random bruises. Which is not that odd, random bruises are naturally to me, much like a birth mark. They are the markings of the clumsy and unaware. I rushed to pack, rushed to move and now I rush to unpack. Filling this new space with all my little treasures. I have never lived all alone before, and I am finding this process interesting and exciting. I dream of evenings on the porch, music gently playing, glass of wine in hand.

However, there is also something new that has not been a concern of mine in the last couple of years. With a roommate comes a certain freedom. Half of the bills is usually not that expensive. There was money to be played with, shiny things to buy and drinks to be drunk. This is no longer the case, and people have begun to discuss my habits, suddenly using words like budgets. Life suddenly intrudes upon my little vacation from adulthood. I guess that wine on the porch dream just may become a reality.

Friday's Child sharing....

.....distinguished hotness. Yes, Mr. Clooney might be a bit old-school, but the pirate hat got to me.



“A woman is the most fiendish instrument of torture ever devised to bedevil the days of man.” ~ Ulysses Everett McGill

Good Luck

Is bad luck contagious? Can it pass through your cell phone along with conversations and words? Will it flow out and attach itself to you? I have a friend that is having the worst luck today. Missing wallet, credit cards used, accident on way to get new driver's license, computers down at Department of Motor Vehicles. Seriously bad luck. Every new revelation worse than one before. Is it wrong that I now want to avoid my phone? I fear the bad luck.

Welcome to the Jungle

I'm going to Wichita
Far from this opera for evermore
(The White Strips)


It is a day for plotting my escape. As I continue to place all my things into boxes, I wonder what would happen if I did just go. At different times in my life, I am consumed with these fantasies. I dream of starting over. A new life in a new place. Not that anything is wrong with my current life. But couldn't it be better somewhere else? Maybe? Perhaps?

Searching high and low

I am a fish without a home. While I roam about looking for one, wish for me little hopes and dreams, that I will find the perfect little place.

Moody packing fish

I sit in the dark, snuggled on an old leather couch, surround by my things, pictures, souvenirs, and other random objects that hold special meaning for me. The large glass vase that holds matches, beads, tickets, and other items from the three years with my roommate. The picture of my grandmother at 18 all sexy and young, posed in her two piece swimsuit. The countless photos of family, friends and beloved puppies. A wooden bowl filled to the top with Texas quarters. A cricket ball which reminds me of an ex-love. I need to begin the process of placing them all in boxes, so that strangers can carry them away. I just can’t bring myself to do this. I am still undecided about where I want to go, I wonder if my choices are the right ones. So instead I ponder my fate and stare moodily at my things. Nothing packed, and now nothing organized just a jumble of things waiting to be relegated to either a new home, or the dumpster. I have told myself that I shall streamline with this move, that all of these objects are unnecessary. I want someone to tell me I am right and to force me into action. Obviously I can’t bring myself to do this. I would rather sit and pout in normal fish fashion, finally spurred into action simply because I have run out time.

Friday's Child

A little fishy giving hotness to all,


Two times...

What do you drive?

I am officially a snob. Pulling into the parking garage this morning I silent curse the Scion that takes my intended parking spot. Damn Scions always fucking up my mojo. Never driving fast enough, taking the good spots, going straight at the light in the right-hand lane when I want to turn. WAH! I hate these evil little cars. Never before have I had a strong opinion regarding a car. Well, except for my love of beautiful sports cars. But I digress. A luscious man climbs out of the car, dark wave hair, sweater clinging perfectly to sexy body. Purr…. He stares at me as he walks across the parking lot. And what do I do? Avoiding eye contact, all the while thinking dream on, fucking Scion driver.

What was your name again?

A million poppies gonna make me sleep.
Just one rose that knows your name
The fruit is rusting on the vine
The fruit is calling from the trees
(Cracker)

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet."
--From Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

I often wonder if I am the only person in the world that banishes the names of my past relationships. It is as if saying his name would invoke his presence, in a “those who shall not be named” manner. During the love stage, you can’t help but say his name; it is like sending out little kisses during the day. His name pours from your lips like honey. You call him wonderful pet names and whisper his names over and over in the dark. Suddenly, you can’t stand to hear his name. He no longer has multiple pet names, but simply one nickname assigned by you or your friends, usually ending in ass. In conversations, you refer to him as the ex and everyone knows exactly which ex you are talking about, even if you have 100s of them. Your friends studiously avoid his name, for fear of invoking either your rage or tears, depending on your mood. From angels singing to cringing at the mere mention of his name. Am I the only one that acts in such a manner?

Guilty or Not Guilty

I stole this from Holly.

1. Dated outside your race?
Guilty, so very guilty.

2. Singing in the shower?
Guilty, I especially love to sing Que Sera Sera.

3. Spit in someone's drink?
Not Guilty, but I did get chips out of the trash once when I was a waitress.

4. Played with Barbies?
Guilty, my boyfriend was always Han Solo *sigh*.

5. Made someone cry?
Guilty, but he deserved it.

6. Opened your Christmas presents early?
Guilty.

7. Lied to a friend?
Guilty, I am actually rather bad at this, not bad at lying, but bad about lying too much.

8. Watched and cried while watching a soap opera?
Guilty, though I have not watched soaps since high school, but I cried during Grey’s Anatomy last week.

9. Played a computer game for more than 5 hours?
Not Guilty.

10. Ran through the sprinklers naked?
Not guilty, sex in a swimming pool yes, sprinklers naked no.

11. Ate food that fell on the floor?
Guilty, as we told the campers when I was a camp counselor, “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt.”

12. Went outside naked?
Semi-guilty.

13. Been on stage?
Guilty.

14. Been on stage naked or close to it?
Not guilty.

15. Been in a parade?
Guilty, I was in band in high school.

16. Been in a school play?
Not guilty, though I lie, I can’t act.

17. Drank beer?
Oh – please, guilty.

18. Gotten detention?
Guilty, I loved to sneak off campus when I was a senior.

19. Been on a plane?
Guilty.

20. Been on a cruise?
Not guilty, sadly.

21. Broken into a house?
Guilty (but it was my house).

22. Gotten a tattoo?
Guilty, but just one.

23. Gotten piercings?
Guilty, but just my ears.

24. Gotten into a fist fight?
Not guilty.

25. Gotten into a shouting match?
Guilty, men suck.

26. Swallowed sea/pool water?
Guilty.

27. Spun yourself in circles to get dizzy on purpose?
Guilty, it is great to be a kid.

28. Laughed so hard it hurt?
Guilty. I just love to laugh.

29. Tripped on your own feet?
Guilty. I can be clumsy. Interestingly enough, my parents debated electronic versus non-electronic French press for a gift. When it was discussed that non-electronic would require their daughter to carry boiling water around, electric was purchased.

30. Cried yourself to sleep?
Guilty, again, men suck.

31. Cried in public?
Guilty, *sigh* sometimes life can be rough.

32. Thrown up in public?
Guilty, you see I once ruined Christmas. That required in part, me tossing it at a gas station, on the side of the highway, and in a hotel parking lot.

33. Lied to your parents?
Guilty, but sometimes it just makes things easier.

34. Skipped class?
Guilty.

35. Cried so hard you threw up?
Guilty, (grumbling) damn, men…

Friday's Child

In the grand fishy Friday tradition, I am giving you a little vampire lovin'.

Fading Memories

I slowly drift off to sleep, and the edge slips off the day. Memories slid through my mind as I prepare to dream. In this soft semi-sleep stage, I tug at different memories. Pulling out different ones, testing them in my mind, trying to recall how I felt at that moment. Suddenly I pull the memory of a night with my last ex. I lay tossed across the bed watching television. Suddenly his hand grabs the cuff of my jeans, pulling me across the bed towards him. As if I belong to him, an object to control. It is at once sexy and objectifying at the same time. I shudder and surrender to the moment.

Now I think back and it is just sexy. I find that I like the moments of male demanding. The moments when they simply say, “Get in the car” (i.e., kissing is over, it is time for sex). When knees are pushed apart and hands make their way into areas where no one else goes.

Thus it is a pleasant memory that ushers me to sleep in a lonesome little apartment.

Lonesome Fish

The silence fills the air, bouncing off empty walls and spilling across empty floors. As I push open the door to the kitchen to prepare my evening meal, I spot a note. Love and wishes sent to me from a roommate that has followed her heart out of the state. I want to sit and cry, mourning a life that no longer exists for me. But I can’t because she has found her ultimate happiness. I am filled with an odd empty feeling, my semi-sister has vanished and after three years I find myself all alone. Wondering who will be there to share all my little heartbreaks and happiness. She was my litmus test, I would pause thinking of her reaction to gauge just how damaging my actions were. She above all others seemed to understand what would destroy my heart. Even now her words of warnings and advice fill my head, often pouring out as offerings to others. I will miss her dearly.

Happy Birthday

A little fishy sends out birthday kisses and wishes to someone that always makes her smile. I love you Dad...

Cupid's arrows....

How delicious is the winning of a kiss at love's beginning. ~ Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)

Imaginary Reasons

Tell him I've been too fucking busy - or vice versa. ~ Dorothy Parker

Not, perhaps, the reason that I have not been posting as much, but a lovely reason to not be posting none the less. Thanks for the lovely idea Mailyn.....

Nobody weird like me

look and see i think you'll agree
nobody weird like me
enchanted as a rabbit
that my life is a dream
well everything is never
just as it seems
the freakiest show i know
is the show of my own
living my life in and out
of the twilight zone
(Red Hot Chili Peppers)

My best friend in high school pronounced this my theme song. That is the same girl that would refer to me as "fishy" but that had more to do with drinking than my current piscesian reasons. The more I search for a new theme song, the more I think that this one still sort of fits me. Not that I try to be weird, it is just the general view of me. Telle est la vie. So I will be swaying to the funky beats of the Chili Peppers in my mind today and remembering long ago friends.

Dating 101

There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food, and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection is the entertainment, we no longer call it dating. Under no circumstances can the food be omitted. ~Miss Manners' Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behaviour

***************************************************

For the single readers out there. Just a little rule regarding entertainment and the dating process. I personally believe that the blindfold would fall nearer the affection for entertainment end.

Secret Stripper Song

A little blind spider took the wheel
Navigatin grass blades completely by feel
Gotta sassy chassy sparkle in the sun
All four small bald fat tires rockin through the sand and burnin up
Little dune buggy in the sand
(The Presidents of the United States)

I have a complete routine worked out to this song, I use the door frame as a make shift pole. It is quite bizarre - but I imagine I would be an alternative stipper. Passing by the mundane stripper anthems such as "Cherry Pie" and "I Touch Myself", instead choosing edgy silly sexy songs. So now I am throwing it out to the crowd, what is your secret stipper song?

Posting with fury...

I have been neglegent in my posts as of late. Perhaps it is the cold that is slowly taking over my life. Perhaps it is the stress of having to find a new apartment. Perhaps it is my all consuming quest for the perfect theme song. Perhaps it is merely boredom. Or it could be that my superhero activities keep me far too busy to post....the again, perhaps it is the daydreams that occupy my time.