As I said yesterday...I had a bad day on Tuesday. That Fuel song keeps running through my head (you know,  had a bad day again...she said I would not understand...she left a note & said...I'm sorry, I had a bad day again. She spilled her coffee, broke her shoelace...smeared the lipstick on her face...slammed the door & said...I'm sorry, I had a bad day again.). A couple of people made me feel so much better. Some of them knew of my bad day...some of them didn't.

Dick gave me an ear & some great advice (but I already mentioned him yesterday so his time is up).

Hubby called me at work & left this message..."Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya...you killed my father, prepare to die..." Then he hung up. Made me laugh out loud.

11 year old Niece sent me this e-mail: My team won for the swim meet.  We swam against Cherry Valley. I had to do an 100 meter IM, back stroke & I was going to do a relay but it got rained out. Since the other team lost we had to say a cheer. It went like this.  Potato chips, potato chips, munch, munch, munch, who do we think is a very nice bunch.  CHERRY VALLEY!!!!!!!! Little girls this age are a joy altogether & this one gets an extra hug when I see her soon.

How bad could it be when you have special people in your life who make you smile with their goofiness?

Had a bad day at work today. I don’t really want to talk about it. I’ll just say that it was my fault for not communicating (or receiving communication) properly.

I called Dick on my way home (yeah, he’s still alive & well & still not posting...but what can you do?). He offered me such great support & advice that I can’t help but love him so. He hates when I put his shit on here (remember the days when he’d shit here himself?) so that’s all I’ll say about Dick & his pooping habits.

OK, I felt the need for alcohol on the way home (I really do see why so many people drown their troubles in alcohol...days like this make it craptastically clear...why more people aren’t doing it is totally beyond me today), so I stopped at the store & picked up some Coronas. What I really should have bought was vodka or something with a kick. The only thing stopping me from opening one up in the car immediately was the fact that I didn’t happen to have a bottle opener (getting stopped for drinking while driving seriously could not have made my day any worse). I did a shot of Irish whiskey at home after the Coronas failed to make my insides smile (or even grin).

Ah...but all was not lost...I had the pleasure of watching my Sox play well against the Mets (9-4 baby). Gotta love inter-league play. That’s 10 in a row if you’re counting along (& I am). Who’d have thought that the Sox would go 14 games without an error? Not what they used to be known for at all. Tomorrow it’s Pedro back at Fenway for the first time as a Met. He’s always fun to watch.

I hope your Wednesday is the opposite of my Tuesday.

I used to compulsively write on this site. I haven’t lately. I miss it.

My mother doesn’t think anyone in my family is even the slightest bit compulsive or obsessive. She makes this claim by comparing me & my 3 siblings to my first cousins (who happen to be the same ages as us). They do so many things to the nth degree. According to Mom, they drink too much... too often (I personally love them for this...no one is more fun at weddings...no one). I stopped by one of the cousins houses a few weeks ago unannounced. It was 11 AM on a Saturday & she & her husband & kids were sound asleep still...having gone on a typical Friday night bender at her sister’s house (one sis asleep on the floor of the other sis’s house like some drunken sorority girl)...I was impressed.

Like I said, if they’re going to do something...it simply will not be done without some extreme being hit. One of the cousins is a runner. Can she run a couple of miles & call it a day? Oh no...it’s 10 miles a day (EVERY day) or nothing (& it’s never nothing).

The list could go on. What I’m trying to say here is...I think I have a small obsessive streak running through me that I didn’t fully appreciate until now. Last week I went out during the week 3 times. That’s 3 more than I usually go out during the week. I blame it all on the live concerts on the river & the Summer air. The more I went out...the more I wanted to keep going out...going straight home after work just wasn’t going to do at all. It’s sort of like the groove most women get into with sex (let me know if I’ve got this all wrong girls). If I’ve been having sex every glorious day for a long stretch...I crave it with every fiber of my being...but (why is there always a big butt? Who loves Pee Wee...I’m just saying)...but if for some reason there’s no sex to be had ...& a couple of days go by...strike that...at least a week & a half...something like that...I stop craving it so badly...I go into that sexual camel mode (women are like sexual camels...I got that from somewhere...but where? I don’t remember)...Do you know what I mean? I’m ok without it for a while.

Anyway, I’m not sure if anything I’m feeling falls into the category of compulsion or obsession...maybe there’s just something to be said for repetitive hedonism?

Had a cool day with my entire family. It was the first sweltering hot day of almost Summer here. I finally gave in & turned the A/C on.

I got home from the family thing & had to shower. I got some kind of vicious WASP spray sort of misted on my crotch (& I knew if I didn't completely & totally get the vile stuff off my pasty Irish skin...oh, the rash I'd get)...is some explaining in order? Nope, there was no reason to feel the need to kill wasps anywhere on my body...but there was one under the table in my parents backyard & my brother-in-law thought it was his duty to kill the sucker...but his aim was bad & as he sprayed under the table...he got me squarely between the legs (I would have laughed if it was someone else...but everyone else thought it was hilarious...damn them all to hell).

I slept for about an hour just now...but now I'm up. Does that happen to you when you drink red wine? It makes me so sleepy...then wakes me right up. I got to see the end of the Redsox game (a great sweep of the Braves). Another question...what do you do when you can't sleep? The more I think about it...the more awake I feel...ugh.

Very early this morning, Hubby got up to get something to drink. What was waiting for him grossly in front of the fridge? You fucking guessed it, a big, fat, roundish, mean, nasty, did I say huge? SPIDER.

If you've read me at all, then you know of my irrational fear of disgusting, evil spiders. I hate that seeing one turns me instantly into a whimpering three year old girl.

Let me just tell you that I despise the fact that Hubby felt compelled to even think about telling me all about this heinous incident. He prefaced actually telling me by saying, "I shouldn't be telling you this but..." Never...Ever...a good sign.

So, there he was, barefoot in the kitchen, face to face with this creature...ugh...he quickly smashed it with a magazine (I'm getting hives just telling you this). He lifts the magazine up to see the carnage &...(I'm freaking out here...wait...no...I can go on...ok...here goes) Yep, there's the carcass of one dead spider alright...but surprise...there's a zillion tiny baby spiders crawling in all directions away from what is left of their dead mama (fuck, shit, damn...I would have...no, I DID lose it when he told me this...wouldn't you?!). He says that he "got" them all...but maybe he was just humoring me 'cuz be was frightened of the seizure his tale of whoah had triggered in me (sweet of him, right?).

OK, I'm off to treat my hives...(I looked it up)...it says take a soothing bath...I'm off to someone else's house to do that...then I'll get on the phone with a realtor...hey, I'm selling the house cheap because who'd want a house with spiders? (& I'll bet the rest of 'em are angry now...)...

Ah...I'd rather be in a sauna...then here in bed with my laptop right now. I'm sitting here...bored & not able to sleep. Hubby's out with his brother not watching a game (travel day) & not getting into trouble.

Yeah, whatever...I'm thinking that I should have gone out tonight...but to tell you the truth, I just didn't have it in me today. All day, I felt like I had no ooomph...know what I mean?

How do you get back in your groove when you've fallen out of it?

Hey, thanks to all who answered the question below. Very illuminating answers. Not many people talk about it...so, what other people practice in that area in their own private ways usually turns out to be oh-so-interesting.

I hope to snap out of this ungroovy thing soon & maybe post something more exciting (or at the very least...less boring).

I think that picture is relaxing me...

A simple question...

How many times a day do you feel the need to masturbate?

Is that not appropriate? OK, how many times a week?

In a moment of weakness (or so the story goes) I agreed to go to one of those neighborhood parties where only ladies are invited & someone's out to sell you something. Ugh. Almost as bad as a bridal or baby shower (which I hate more than mushrooms & I really don't like mushrooms).

My sister wanted to go to this thing...but she didn't want to go it alone...so, after work I swung by Sis's house. I walked through a torrential rainfall to get to my car before getting to Sis's house & arrived soggy & uninspired. To try to cheer me up, my sister got me some dry clothes (I wanted to wait for my clothes to come out of the dryer...but apparently there wasn't time).

I'm not a huge fan of wearing someone else's clothes (as a teenager, I loved stealing her clothes & wearing them before she got a chance to even take the tags off...but somewhere along the line it all changed). My sister is a good 3 inches taller than me & her style is slightly more daring. I ended up in a black skirt with a black & white tank top that could not possibly fit my larger boobed sis...but like I said...her comfort level about wearing such things is on a different level.

We walked down the street & were invited into Sis's neighbor's house & into a den of soon to be drunk women & one pushy bitch selling cheap lingerie. I had just enough drinks to have somehow bought a pair of black 4 inch slides with these feathery things on the front. Sexy? Um, nah, not really...but definitely interesting.

Feel like reading some short fiction?

"...& then I hear it: the elevator opens on the floor. He's here. I stand up, brush myself off, tighten my robe around me. I hear the footsteps come closer. Time for business. I open the door, light up my face, bite the inside of my lower lip to keep that light steady. Hold the door frame. Steady now..."

Read the rest of it here.