...I used to lie on my beautiful, old wood floor & let the light from the biggest window in my house fall down upon my body. The cold hardness of the floor made my muscles ache as I’d arch my back & let the moonlight shine on my being.

The moonlight gave me life. I felt it create a pulse of excitement within me. I felt alive with anticipation. The warmth of the moonlight made me want to lie there & savor it forever...at the same time...it made me want to run from that spot & go out into the world of possibilities.

I’d get all poetic & sappy in the middle of the night...what the hell, right?...what possible good could come of that?

What do you do...when you can’t sleep...in the middle of the night?

This gaping hole in my blog is ruining my rhythm...do you know what I mean? I'm going to stop whining about it for now...if my thousands of e-mails to Blogger haven't helped with the solution by now...I'll either have to have patience, more perseverance...or redesign this whole site...we'll see what it eventually comes down to...

I was just going to write whatever came to mind today...you know... stream-of-consciousness...let it all go...go with the flow...

But then I started thinking about an assignment in school to do just that. I was taking a poetry class in high school...oddly enough...only girls signed up for the class. The Teacher, Mr. H., was a huge bearded man of about 35. I'd always heard great things about him. He was voted teacher of the year the previous year (whatever that friggin means).

Mr. H gave us the assignment to write whatever came to our minds. We were supposed to write a continuous flow of images & ideas...as they developed in our minds at that moment.

Well, I kind of got into the spirit of the whole thing. Words flowed, images poured out of me. I thought that this was the most non-judgmental thing I'd ever been asked to do in school...but apparently...I was wrong.

Mr. H. not only hated what I handed in...he proceeded to rip it apart. He said I wasn't being spontaneous enough...I was holding back...my thoughts were scattered...blah, blah, blah...

What the hell?! I didn't know there was a WRONG way to let your feelings flow. As the year went on...I discovered that there was very little I could do to please Mr. H. He clearly did not like me.

I could take a teacher not favoring me...but I'd never experienced a teacher actively disliking me. I racked my brain to figure out why & the only thing I could come up with was...he was sleeping with a student who was a year ahead of me. Her name was Amy. She was about 6 feet tall. She was a member of the volleyball team. He was the volleyball coach. Quite possibly...& this might be a stretch...but...possibly...he didn't care for me because...I was the anti-Amy.

What's the status of my TOO
MUCH SPACE IN MY TEMPLATE problem...you ask? I know, you couldn't care less...It's my problem & I'll be damned to hell if I can't get it fixed
once & for all!

"The launch of Blogger Images required a bit of new code that is
causing some users annoying layout problems. Before launch, the templates
passed our tests but because of the open nature of Blogger templates,
we weren't sure which kinds of template modifications were going to be
affected. We're hammering out the solution now and we'll update our help
site with some workarounds today".

All I can say is...I KNEW IT WASN'T ME!

I hope Blogger & I can remedy this problem soon...my shaky grasp on
sanity is in the balance.

I had a free morning...all to myself on Saturday. I
decided to cherish it...because they do not come
around all that often. I thought I'd start my day by
getting a chai tea (I'm a tea freak...if you really
want to know) at a local Starbucks.

I was going to actually have the time to sit at a
little table, with my book & my tea & read or people
watch & thoroughly enjoy it all.

I walked in & immediately saw someone familiar. There,
standing in line was my cousin's husband. I'm very
close to my cousin & she dated Vinnie from the 8th
grade on...then married him...so I know him well too.

I was excited to see him (I hadn't seen him since
Christmas)...so I ran up & hugged him from behind.
This was a terrible idea...due to the fact that...it
turned out to be...someone else.

This someone else turned around & looked at me. I
stood there like a blushing, silly idiot. He offered
me a handshake (which was nice of him...considering
I'd just almost molested him) & told me his name was
Robert. I offered him a limp noodle hand & said I was
so sorry...I thought he was someone else. He laughed &
told me it was ok.

The guy at the counter asked us what we wanted.
Robert looked at me & asked what I wanted. I froze..was he
talking about tea? I mumbled my order & he told the
guy what he wanted. As I opened my wallet to pay,
Robert said that he had it covered.

I blurted out a...thank you...then moved over to
stupidly stand by the spot at the counter where you
wait for your order. Robert got his order & sat at a
small table by the door. I wondered if there was
possibly any way that I could maybe slip out a back
door, without being noticed. I wasn't even sure there
was a backdoor...so I stood there, trying to get my
embarrassed self together...but there wasn't time.
Counter guy gave me my drink & I saw forced into
action. I collected myself as much as I could & aimed
my body in the general direction of the door. I passed
Robert...there were words coming out of his mouth...I
had little choice but to say, "what?"

He wanted to know if I had time to sit & chat.
Apparently, my butt felt obligated to him for the
whole molestation thing...because it plopped itself
down in the other chair at his table. We chatted for a
bit as I tried not to scream out in pain (I took a
good healthy gulp of tea...all I can say is...I should
have waited).

As I sat there in a-gon-y...boiling liquid scorching it's way down my
throat...he rattled on about his high powered job...it went something
like this.

Him: I work on Wall Street company A...we handle all the transactions
for companies B, C & D.

Me: No words would come...I think I now had internal third degree
burns.

Him: Are you catching the train too?

Me: I shook my head...no...& uttered something that from inside my head
sounded like...dsgzpkiuwr.

Him: Will you be here tomorrow?...because I'm so important that I'm
going in to work tomorrow too.

Me: Again...I shook my head no...this time I got out the words...I
don't fink so.

Him: (getting up to leave)...well then, I'll see you here again
tomorrow.

Me: Fanks for the tea.

Did he comprehend anything I just said? Did I?

See all this space above me...here...I CAN'T SEEM TO GET RID OF IT!

Why is my post for today....waaaaay down at the bottom of the page?

Can anyone help me fix this vile problem?

I'm a 32 year old nurse from Georgia. My mother still does all my
banking. My future husband tells me what to do (& God tells him what to do).

I am engaged to a man...but keep "love you" text messages on my
cellphone from another man that I dated in 2003. I was going to have a shit
kicking, over the top, southern, obscenity of a wedding. I was so looking
forward to shoving my 14 purple taffeta clad, overly made up
bridesmaids down the aisle in front of my 600 beloved guests.

When I went for a run a couple of days before the blessed event was set
to happen...a funny thing happened...I just kept on running (& somehow
I found the contents of my secret bank account in my itsy bits jogging
shorts). I got myself a bus ticket & headed for...Vegas baby!

How was I to know that all the suckers...I mean people who foolishly
love me were going to wonder what the fuck happened to me? Who thought
they would call the FBI?

Is it really a big deal to make fake 911 calls & act all confused &
goofy? Yeah...I told the operator I was kidnapped by a man & a woman,
thrown into a blue van, then sexually assaulted...but did it have to make
the evening news? Do you know how embarrassed me & my crazy eyes should
be? I have no clue why I'm not ashamed of my irratic behavior at all.
I am just going to go ahead & do a prime time interview with Katie
Couric. I'm going to tell her the truth. My answer to all of it is...
I don't know...hey that answer works for 3 year olds, right?

Who am I...& why should you care?

I'm a big movie fan. I know that's hard to believe after yesterday's post...but I am.

The Movie...My Life Without Me...is a movie...in my opinion...to be savored.

The movie is about the handful of moments in life that truly
change us, points in time where we can see our destinies before us in all
of their complexity, pain & glory. That's all I'll tell you...in case
you want to discover this movie without my input. It's worth it.

Sarah Polley plays Ann in such a powerfully subtle way (director's
quote; "Sarah could be ugly, she could be sexy, she could be tough &
sweet & everything at the same time..." )...this actress truly makes
you feel what it's like to be her character.

In the film, Ann makes a list of things to do before checking out.
Things like, telling her young daughters how much she loves them
everyday, tape recording annual birthday messages for them until each reaches
the age of 18, causing someone to fall in love with her, & finding a
wife for her husband & a mother for her kids... all this in the two
months she has left.

There are no dramatic shifts in behavior in this movie...no character
ever does something that seems false (or dishonest) to their
character...no overly sentimental crap is found in this movie & it's better
because of that.

If you're looking for a small, character driven movie...that tells a
great story, that is uplifting with a touch of pretty sadness...see
this movie.

Plus, Deborah Harry plays the hell out of the part of the
depressed...life did me wrong...mother.

My favorite quote from this movie..."No one ever thinks about
death...in a supermarket".

I saw the movie Closer recently. If you haven't seen it...& want to
see it...don't read my opinion of this retched film. Stop reading right
now...I'll try not do give away the pitiful ending...in case you have a
desire to see this soul-less pit of a movie anyway.

I was looking forward to enjoying this movie. I gave it every chance
to get better. I sat through the whole damn thing...more as a test of
will...than anything else. I'm proud of myself for enduring this
coldhearted, sluggish excuse for a movie.

Here's a review from the web site:

"...A witty, romantic, and very dangerous love story about chance
meetings, instant attractions, & casual betrayals. A look at four
strangers - Julia Roberts, Jude Law, Natalie Portman and Clive Owen - with
one thing in common: each other. CLOSER "VIBRATES WITH EROTICISM &
BRUISING LAUGHS..."

First of all...why do they feel the fucking need to SHOUT AT ME?! I
seriously do not think that even VIBRATING EROTICISM is something that I
want YELLED at me! & what the fucking hell does bruising laughs mean? I
do not get the whole...pain for pleasure thing...& it definitely is not
funny...yeah...let me smack you till you're black & blue & see if
you're still laughing.

At one point during this excruciatingly unkind excuse for a film
Julia Robert's new hubby comes home from a business trip. He confesses that
while he was away...he slept with a prostitute. He asks if she's going
to leave him. She proceeds to tell him that she's been sleeping with
Jude Law for a secretive year. He calls her a...what else...slut (but I
thought we just established the fact that he LIKES sluts...so what's the
problem here?!) At this point...I simply do not care about any of these
unemotional, heartlessly self involved, destructive idiots. I hate them
all & don't give a small shit about what happens to them.

It would have made me smile if a huge shark came out of The River
Thames & made a midnight snack out of them all, limb by bloody limb. That
ending would have justified watching this mess for two hours...but
alas...if was not to be.

I love this ad for many reasons.

I'm a big fan of simplicity & this design says a lot with a little.

It says to me...that I need a weekend in Vegas. A weekend filled with:
false eyelashes
lost earrings
pink fluff
& sequins.

Add to that:
a hot Thunder from Down Under dancer
a few winning blackjack hands
a message
a swim up pool bar
a Suite (with charming French décor).

...What happens in Vegas...stays in Vegas...so there's nothing at all to lose.

25 Things I Learned From Dad

1. He’ll always be proud of me.
2. How to read a map.
3. Don’t lick your knife.
4. To understand sports obsessions.
5. To love traveling...anywhere.
6. Money doesn’t grow on trees.
7. Never throw out your favorite jeans, the fading & the holes just make them better.
8. Be nice to store clerks...even if that means spending 30 minutes chatting with them about their ungrateful children.
9. Pretend that you are not shy...someday you might believe it.
10. If no one laughs at your joke...that doesn’t mean it ain’t funny.
11. Having the ability to tell a great story is a wonderful thing. When you are making yet another trip to the ER...because your little girl self fell out of a tree or rammed your beautiful pink bike into a wall...the pain goes away if the story is really good.
12. How to hang a spoon from my nose.
13. That talents are not to be wasted.
14. & Everyone has at least one special talent.
15. Creativity takes many forms.
16. That the kids are usually more fun to hang out with at parties.
17. No one cares if you can’t dance...just get up & do it.
18. To drive (& to love driving).
19. That tailgating is ok...if the guy in front of you is going under the speed limit...(how else is he ever gonna learn?).
20. Never be apologetic when it comes to your beliefs about anything.
21. Having a beer (an ale...actually...not that you should care...I’m just saying...) in a bar in the middle of the Irish countryside is a moment to cherish.
22. That you should know your own family’s story.
23. How to find what you love...then figure out a way to actually get paid for it.
24. That the friends you make when you are 5 years old never ever leave your heart.
25. That I am lucky to be so very much like my Dad.


Happy Father’s Day.

I’m a complete & total sap when it comes to my father...& if you don’t like it...you can lump it.

Dad says things like this...& I have no friggin clue what that means.

I'm wearing a pink top today. The color you choose to wear on any given
day supposedly...unconsciously reflects how you feel. Each color gives
off different a energy.

Red stimulates the senses & energizes the systems of the body.

Orange encourages creativity & optimism.

Green cools, soothes & balances.

Blue incites spirituality & reduces nervous excitement.

Pink is associated with love, compassion & contentment. It combines two colors...transitioning between red (power, strength) & white (clean & pure).

Well, fuck me silly...'cuz I seem to be a compassionately content...pure, strong & clean girlie today...

Lately, I've been spinning my wheels every afternoon
on a stationary bike at the gym. Lately, every time I
get to the bike, there is a scowling fellow gym member
already on one of the two bikes. I'm telling
you...this man scowls at me...as I lower the seat &
get my butt settled on the bike next to the wall.

Why is he scowling at me? I start riding & he
speeds up. He stands up & peddles, like he's going up an
imaginary hill, he breathes heavily (& loudly) & spews
sweat in my general direction.
Not only am I inspired to puke in his general direction
(thanks for the sweat on my arm...buddy...but I'm just
not that into you)...but I really, really want to jam those idiotic
ear buds from his iPod deep into his skull.

I'd also like to do this to him.

I've awaken from the dead. Well, I wasn't really dead...I just felt that way. This heat is killing me. I feel like I melted on a busy city sidewalk...then laid there for days...while fast moving city people walked around me...but refused to help me get back up.

Today, I've recuperated somewhat. I'm off the sidewalk & back to my normal seeming self. I just got off the phone with a sister of mine. She has invited me to enjoy Father's Day at her house. She wants me to make a killer pasta salad. I was thinking about a pasta & sun dried tomato salad. I'm not sure if I should just make something up...or look for a tried & true recipe...anyone got any suggestion that will blow me away?

(anything at all?)

Anne Bancroft, the beautiful actress died last week. She was 73.

This is my favorite Anne Bancroft quote:

“I've met the right man. See, I'd never had
so much pleasure being with another human being.
I wanted him to enjoy me too.
It was that simple."

Gotta love a woman who feels that way about Mel Brooks.
(who I also love...but how could you not?).

E-mails (From the cool guy I went to my prom with...but was never
interested in that way...I love that we still keep in touch every now & then).

To Chick,

I have an interview on Friday in Chickville
for which I am diligently preparing. It is with a consulting firm
& it might be nice to work near you, no?

PD (prom date...in case you're guessing)

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

To PD,

Yes, it is near me. Where exactly are you interviewing?

By the way, you're the smartest person I know (why do you
think I love you...anyway?!)...you'll get it.

Will you have time for lunch?

Chick

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

To Chick,

The company is x; they do knowledge
management. It's actually not an interview, but
a group of candidates exchanging info with the CEO, et al.
at the Hyatt Regency for a breakfast meeting.
Unique, huh?

I'm the smartest person you know?! I'll remember
that if I need a personal reference, you!
But these are some pretty bright
people. I think they primarily
like me for my experience.

Gee, I thought the friendship was based on other
things, but if brains work for you, swell.

It ends at 10:00 am, so lunch might not work. On the
other hand, I could probably be convinced to hang
around a bit...or not: we'll agree to, like, 11:30
and you won't be there until 1:00. Maybe a snack
at a rest area is best? (He thinks I'm late all the time...damn him).

PD

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

To PD,

Actually, I love you for your
experience too.
Plus, you use fancy words like, et al.
That gets me hot.

Hey, I was EARLY for our last meeting
...but you were MORE early (due to
the unexpected lack of traffic on your part).
Remember?

I'd MAKE time for lunch with you...baby!

Chick

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

To Chick,

We'll work out time on Thursday, K?

PD

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

This was a couple of Friday's ago...so...lunch has come & gone...&
yet...the e-mails continue...

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

To Chick,

I really enjoyed our lunch. Thanks for taking a long one.
Even still, it was a short amount of time to see you. I hope this job
works out so that it will become more common.

PD

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

To PD,

I enjoyed lunch too. It's funny, every time I spend time with you,
I leave thinking that it wasn't enough time...make sense?

Good luck with the job search. I'll look at your resume & check the
postings here for you. You never know what might turn up.

Chick

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

To Chick,

It's always the case. I wish I could say, "see you later" like you
would a neighbor. The kind you don't mind seeing, rather than ducking
back in the house when you see them pulling in their driveway.

Thanks for the job assistance.

PD

p.s. Your top was distracting.

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

To PD,

I love the neighbor description...very true...

Chick

p.s. That was inappropriate of you to say that...(I am totally just
kidding...ha, ha...I know, I'm not funny....but it's all about pleasing
myself, right?)

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

To Chick,

As I mentioned at lunch, you provided me some of the impetus to
continue improving myself, so I am glad I could return the favor by stroking
your ego. I was really just sharing my inappropriate thoughts for my own
pleasure, but if you get something out of it as well, bonus.

Don't blame me. Blame yourself, flaunting it like that. Shameless...

PD

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

I never thought of myself as shameless before...could that be a good thing?

I had an odd dream last night. Does everyone have
crazy dreams? I can’t remember having a normal seeming
dream...ever. But then again...maybe it's just the
strange one's that I remember.

It's all kind of cloudy in my dream. I drive into a
gas station. Someone comes toward my car. It's a girl
with straight, dirty blonde hair. She's totally naked.
She's thin...with small breasts & very little pubic
hair. She looks at me, turns around & heads back into
the station building.

In the dream...I remember putting my hand on my car
door to open it...my hand is full of colorful
rings...I open the door & let one leg escape from the
car. My foot hit the pavement (it was like a scene in
a movie...you know the one’s...where all you can see
is a leg & a hot shoe...the rest is blocked by the car
door).

I let the rest of my body out of the car & walked to
the open station door. I stopped in the doorway. A
brunette with long hair sat in a chair. She was clad
in a dirty blue mechanic’s coverall. The naked girl
slithered her way from the arm of the chair...& slid
into the lap of the seated girl.

At this point...I’m wondering...what the hell I’m
doing there...& what the hell are they doing there? I
am frozen in place. They both look at me.

It’s funny...I can vividly remember all of the details
of my surroundings in the dream...I can see the brown,
worn chair, the chipped tile floor...even the smudges
on the glass of the station window...but for the life
of me...I can not tell you...why I’m there.

You can find anything you want on Craig’s List.
...& I do mean anything. Anything from jobs, to friends to...this guy:



Hi Ladies,
I have always wanted to try stripping. I will do a strip show for you
& a group of friends for free- all I ask is that you tell me an honest opinion
of my body & what I can do to improve my show.

Yeah...that’s an ass...alright. My question is...why’d he have to take a picture
of his ass while he was peeing in the middle someone’s living room?
& if that’s his very own living room...that’s just sick.

Dick told me he'd write something today...& I still believe that he will...but the question I ask you is...when?

He's got just under 10 hours to get something in...under the gun...come on...boy...just do it!

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

PS...On an unrelated note:

I just got off the phone with Hubby. Part of our conversation had to do with fantasy baseball (lame...you say? Have you ever been involved with it?...Then how can you judge so harshly? Well...how?).

It seems his shortstop got injured. How...you ask? He was helping his lovely & talented wife with the groceries. He slipped & fell on their front steps. Damn it all...if he didn't break his clavicle (or was it his uvula? Either way...it makes me laugh). He'll be on the disabled list for a good 3 months.

Hubby was pissed. This guy was on sort of a streak...then he falls & breaks his clavicle. Why...hubby asked...did he have to help his bitch wife with the groceries?

Why...I asked...do you assume that all wives are bitches? I'm just guessing these words left his mouth because he was angry that his boy was hurt & not giving him points anymore...'cuz I assure you...hubby has the most un bitch-like wife ever...how do I know?

I don't know...it's just the kind of thing you know in your heart...& in your clavicle.

As the state trooper slowly walked to my car I looked
at him in my rear view mirror.

He was decked out in all his splendid state trooper
finery. I can’t quite nail down the reason for my love
of a man in uniform...(it does it to me every damn
time). Is it the well put together, fastidiousness of
such a well tailored man? The uniform demands respect
even before the man does. Is it all those well places
shiny buttons? I’m torn between wanting to rip off
every last one (with my teeth)...& wanting to unbutton
each one very carefully, going from top to bottom...
slowly & carefully...taking my time with every last
one...

Yeah....you could say I was distracted.

He was now bending down & peering at me through my
driver’s side window. How long he’d been there...while
I was lost in my thought...I couldn’t tell you.

State Trooper: Hello miss (he seemed chipper...if a
state trooper can actually be chipper).

I sat there...& stupidly smiled...

ST: Do you know why I stopped you? (is there an
appropriate answer to this question? Someone...please
help me out here...)

I didn’t know what to say...so I tried to give him my best
Bambi eyes (all doe eyed & innocent & that’s not as easy as
it sounds)...I eventually sputtered out a ...no.

He ignored my response anyway...so my efforts were
apparently wasted on him...

ST: Why were you driving so fast?

As I was quickly losing all hope...I decided to try
honesty. What the hell. I really had nothing to lose.

Chick: Why was I driving so fast? Um...because I
didn’t see you.

He continued to look at me...with his perfectly set
square jaw. He looked me over & seemed to
consider me. This man could win a bundle at
poker...because his face was telling me
nothing. Just when I didn’t think I could sit
there for a minute longer...he smiled. I thought I
caught a giggle (that’s right...a giggle)
coming out of his blue & yellow, officially state clad
self.

He smiled & told me to slow down & have a good day. As
he was walking back to his car...I thought spotted a
smile on his face.

Hot damn...I was free again to see another day.

Amen for Fleet Week in NYC.

What a great way to kick off spring.

A little bright-eyed wonder & pent-up sexual energy...anyone?

Look at these three fine young things...
Aren’t they pretty?...& one of ‘ems even a shopper.
How the hell can you beat that?

Picture this...

You are 16 years old. You’re walking towards the water on a beautiful barrier island, somewhere off The East Coast. It’s almost 10 AM & the beach is deserted. The day hasn’t decided if it’s going to rain or be sunny yet & the lifeguards do not begin setting up for the day until exactly 10 AM. (& not a minute sooner...if I was being paid minimum wage to watch a bunch of slackers on the beach...I’d set up at precisely 10 AM too).

The waves are coming in fast & high tide is approaching. You step into the water & begin walking into the waves. You trail a red boogie board behind you by it’s wrist strap.

A wave hits you on your waist. You duck under the next wave & let it wash over you. You get on the board & start paddling out past the waves.

You rest your head on the board & let your legs float behind you freely in the water. It’s calm & peaceful. You just keep floating & looking out into the horizon. Through squinted eyes, the blue of the sea merges with the blue of the sky & you think you could stay out here forever.

On the shore, you can barely see the lifeguards high up in their chairs...looking out at you.

You see a figure walk up to one of the lifeguard chairs. You’d recognize that black bathing suit with the enormous white flowers on it anywhere. You wonder what your mother could possibly be talking to the lifeguard about. Why is the lifeguard jumping out of his chair? Why is he carrying one of those orange lifesaving buoys? He’s running towards the water when it hits you...he’s coming to save you.

Holy shit...if there was ever a time when you wanted to be swallowed up by the ocean...this is it. You silently curse your mother for having a healthy respect for the sea (damn her). Lifeguard Joe is halfway to you & you haven’t been swallowed up yet...so you have no choice but to scream out to Joe that you are fine. He keeps swimming out to you anyway.

He grabs the side of your board & hangs on. He’s blonde & his glorious tan makes his blue eyes seem even brighter than they already must be & you get lost in them for just a moment...& then he speaks & the spell is broken. He says something about how my mommy was worried about her little baby all the way out here in the wild sea...ok...he didn’t put it that way...exactly...but that’s kinda the way I heard it. He wanted to know if I needed any help getting back to shore.

Why I said...no...to that question is beyond me. Was it stupid pride? Did I not want to be seen being plucked from the sea by the lovely (& talented...I’m just guessing) Lifeguard Joe? Or was it the fact that I didn’t want my mother to think I had needed saving all along?

Whatever the answer to that question was...ceased to matter after I’d been paddling in the general direction of the shoreline...for what seemed like hours. My arms were burning & just when I’d get close enough to shore to think that maybe I’d get a foothold & walk the rest of the way to the beach...a giant wave would cruelly break just over my head & tumble me like a rag doll & wash me back out to sea.

As I finally pulled my body out of the sea...feeling like a limp piece of seaweed, I was in no mood to chat with either Lifeguard Joe or my mother. Both of them looked at me as I shakily walked by (with that damn wrist strap still attached to the boogie board...which I carelessly dragged in the sand).

You could just guess what each of them was thinking. Lifeguard Joe was going to tell all of his lifeguard friends about the little chick he had to save from the big, old mean Mr. Ocean (Do lifeguards speak in baby talk? I’m not sure...but for some reason...he struck me as the type who...given the right circumstance...might). The story would become more & more exaggerated...until it got to the point of him saving me, giving me mouth to mouth on the beach...& bringing me back from the dead (to tell you the truth...I could get on board with a fantasy like this).

Mom was thinking how she saved one of her ducklings from a terrible burial at sea.

I was thinking...as I limped off the beach...maybe mom was right...maybe I could have died...I had almost been content enough to have fallen asleep out there...but then again...maybe she was just over reacting...should I thank her for the fear she placed in me...that wasn’t there before?

OK...the deal between Dick & I was supposed to be...he'd write one day...then I'd write the next...but...as you can see...the rules don't seem to apply today. That's ok...we won't hold it against him...will we? Nah.

I'll warn you though, I'm unprepared today (fuck the scout motto today...I guess).

I will just tell you the facts of my day...so far...& see how that goes.

I woke up late with a cat asleep on my leg. Sure, she only weighs 7 pounds...but the little sucker pretty much stopped the flow of blood from getting to my foot. This would have been good to know before I made my first attempt at walking. Needless to say, that didn't go so well. I'll spare you the gruesome, head banging details (this time).

What happened between getting out of bed...& now...would bore the pants off of you...so I left it out...but I may now have to reconsider...'cuz if nothing else...today is begging to become a pants-less Wednesday. Want to know why...besides the obvious? Because today...I seem to have that lovely extra water weight kinda thing going on...just enough to make the button on my pants dig into that soft spot...you know the one...right above your belly button. Without the water weight...I'm fine...no button digging happens...but with the extra 16 pounds (ok...it just seems like that much...it's more like a couple of well placed ounces) of water...I'm seriously considering closing my office door & getting on with the rest of day...while celebrating pants free Wednesday.