just home from of montreal
observation #1:
they kick ass.
and i love of montreal covering the peaches, but ending on a cover song?
not sure how i feel about that.
i'm more of a "wrap it up with your own balls showing" kind of girl.
observation #2:
i am attracted to skinny white boys wearing daisy dukes and cherry red pirate half shirts; although just for looks not for love.
i plan to discuss this in therapy- when i finally go get some.
observation #3:
polarity is a bitch-
want to guess how many short, fat, bald guys were stalking me at the show?
hey! one was enough.
realization #473 of this calendar year:
the GRE will eat me because it recognzes my polarity in the baron's diganostic test that preps reading comp through a passage about magma and plate subduction.
trust me; it all connects.
9.25.2006
9.19.2006
revisionist theory
So last night was a little bit of tae bo with the roomie,
followed by yoga.
after that, a trip to kroger.
then i watched studio 60.
now i knew that i would like anything done by aaron sorkin, but what i didn't know is that watching this show would revise the way i had considered my life.
you see, i used to lay around from about 4:30pm (aka the minute i got home from work) until around 10 watching the west wing on bravo. i thought i was depressed.
well,
turns out
that aaron sorkin just kicks that much ass.
and now so does studio 60.
and the final song of the episode...
well. under pressure by queen.
doesn't get much better.
followed by yoga.
after that, a trip to kroger.
then i watched studio 60.
now i knew that i would like anything done by aaron sorkin, but what i didn't know is that watching this show would revise the way i had considered my life.
you see, i used to lay around from about 4:30pm (aka the minute i got home from work) until around 10 watching the west wing on bravo. i thought i was depressed.
well,
turns out
that aaron sorkin just kicks that much ass.
and now so does studio 60.
and the final song of the episode...
well. under pressure by queen.
doesn't get much better.
9.17.2006
summerteeth
i had never heard the term summerteeth until this summer.
it's not very nice.
but i like it.
anyway, wilco is playing in louisville, ky on sunday night october 8th,
and i got excited because i like wilco.
and my life has become a stagnant mosquito swamp.
so i thought i'd spice it up by bidding on ebay for the wilco tickets.
before i realized that louisville is 3 hours away.
and i have no nashville friends who like wilco.
so now i have 2 tickets to see wilco in lousiville, ky,
and no one to go with.
sweet.
it's not very nice.
but i like it.
anyway, wilco is playing in louisville, ky on sunday night october 8th,
and i got excited because i like wilco.
and my life has become a stagnant mosquito swamp.
so i thought i'd spice it up by bidding on ebay for the wilco tickets.
before i realized that louisville is 3 hours away.
and i have no nashville friends who like wilco.
so now i have 2 tickets to see wilco in lousiville, ky,
and no one to go with.
sweet.
9.13.2006
galileo
my nephew called me today to ask me to drive to memphis to see him play soccer on saturday.
he's six years old and he loves me.
it's nice.
i haven't had time enough to disappoint him yet.
hopefully, i can leave that up to his parents.
as well, it's my wedding anniversary, but i'm not married anymore.
and my nephew wants my ex-husband to come to the soccer game.
and i hadn't really thought about this date or cried about this anniversary until my nephew wonders why people disappear from life.
and i have no answer.
except that i keep fucking up.
but as the indigo girls sing in galileo,
"...therell be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime Im still not right"
now, to make this a complete day, read some sharon olds poetry.
surely i am breaking a copyright law.
let me know and i will stop.
A Week Later
by Sharon Olds
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't
think I could ever write about it.
Maybe in a year I could write something.
There is something in me maybe someday
to be written; now it is folded, and folded,
and folded, like a note in school. And in my dream
someone was playing jacks, and in the air there was a
huge, thrown, tilted jack
on fire. And when I woke up, I found myself
counting the days since I had last seen
my husband-only two years, and some weeks,
and hours. We had signed the papers and come down to the
ground floor of the Chrysler Building,
the intact beauty of its lobby around us
like a king's tomb, on the ceiling the little
painted plane, in the mural, flying. And it
entered my strictured heart, this morning,
slightly, shyly as if warily,
untamed, a greater sense of the sweetness
and plenty of his ongoing life,
unknown to me, unseen by me,
unheard, untouched-but known, seen,
heard, touched. And it came to me,
for moments at a time, moment after moment,
to be glad for him that he is with the one
he feels was meant for him. And I thought of my
mother, minutes from her death, eighty-five
years from her birth, the almost warbler
bones of her shoulder under my hand, the
eggshell skull, as she lay in some peace
in the clean sheets, and I could tell her the best
of my poor, partial love, I could sing her
out with it, I saw the luck
and luxury of that hour.
he's six years old and he loves me.
it's nice.
i haven't had time enough to disappoint him yet.
hopefully, i can leave that up to his parents.
as well, it's my wedding anniversary, but i'm not married anymore.
and my nephew wants my ex-husband to come to the soccer game.
and i hadn't really thought about this date or cried about this anniversary until my nephew wonders why people disappear from life.
and i have no answer.
except that i keep fucking up.
but as the indigo girls sing in galileo,
"...therell be no nuclear annihilation
In my lifetime Im still not right"
now, to make this a complete day, read some sharon olds poetry.
surely i am breaking a copyright law.
let me know and i will stop.
A Week Later
by Sharon Olds
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't
think I could ever write about it.
Maybe in a year I could write something.
There is something in me maybe someday
to be written; now it is folded, and folded,
and folded, like a note in school. And in my dream
someone was playing jacks, and in the air there was a
huge, thrown, tilted jack
on fire. And when I woke up, I found myself
counting the days since I had last seen
my husband-only two years, and some weeks,
and hours. We had signed the papers and come down to the
ground floor of the Chrysler Building,
the intact beauty of its lobby around us
like a king's tomb, on the ceiling the little
painted plane, in the mural, flying. And it
entered my strictured heart, this morning,
slightly, shyly as if warily,
untamed, a greater sense of the sweetness
and plenty of his ongoing life,
unknown to me, unseen by me,
unheard, untouched-but known, seen,
heard, touched. And it came to me,
for moments at a time, moment after moment,
to be glad for him that he is with the one
he feels was meant for him. And I thought of my
mother, minutes from her death, eighty-five
years from her birth, the almost warbler
bones of her shoulder under my hand, the
eggshell skull, as she lay in some peace
in the clean sheets, and I could tell her the best
of my poor, partial love, I could sing her
out with it, I saw the luck
and luxury of that hour.
9.12.2006
ode to me
somedays. some people love me, and they write about it.
then they give it to me because i am coniferous, damn it. and hairy.
here is one from one to whom i teach writing.
You (inset adjective),
(awe-inspiring, breathtaking, coniferous, dynomite!, exalted, fantabulous, grand, hairy, impressive, joyous, killer, lovable,mind-blowing, nautical, omnipotent, pugnacious, QUEEN EMPORESS OF EVERYTHING, ravishing, stupefying, tenacious, unbelievable, vindictive, wondrous, X-TREME, yippie, zero cool)
Take more painkillers.
Sneak me to shows.
then they give it to me because i am coniferous, damn it. and hairy.
here is one from one to whom i teach writing.
You (inset adjective),
(awe-inspiring, breathtaking, coniferous, dynomite!, exalted, fantabulous, grand, hairy, impressive, joyous, killer, lovable,mind-blowing, nautical, omnipotent, pugnacious, QUEEN EMPORESS OF EVERYTHING, ravishing, stupefying, tenacious, unbelievable, vindictive, wondrous, X-TREME, yippie, zero cool)
Take more painkillers.
Sneak me to shows.
spiderman, spiderman, does whatever a spider can
Spins a web, any size
Catches thieves, just like flies
Look out! Here comes the Spider-man!
Is he strong? Listen, Bud!
He's got radioactive blood.
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead.
Hey there, there goes the Spider-man!
and if you couldn't sing along with that, then stop reading now and delete this site from your cache.
immediately.
because peter parker is hot, even if tobey maguire isn't.
(tobEy. with an E. are you fucking kidding me?)
as i'm sitting at work today around 10:30 am, one of my favorite blasts from the past drops by to tell me what his life has become. these moments are the reason that i still do what i do. you can always find me- same time same place like your favorite cartoon after school. except i can't spin a web; nor do i have wolf blades flinging from my phalanges (mmmm... hugh jackman- now there's a fucking super hero)
anyway...
i work with some of the most amazingly intelligent people in the universe, and i love that even when they leave, they return to tell me what music i am missing out on, what books are kicking it live, and what movies i need to go see. they even bring me tv shows to watch.
out of the love that i work with comes the ecstasy of a season of firefly on dvd and the accompanying motion picture serenity. i am pumped. joss whedon (speaking of joss) is a demagogue of screen writing genius, and i have been trying to fit these little pups into my viewing kennel for a good 3 months.
as well, i may be getting access to titus- let me know if this is a good thing. i've heard the writing is pretty hot.
sooo.. chatting with my peeps, and i watch the trailer for spiderman 3.
no shit, the words, "It’s a symbiote that bonds to his suit." flies out of someone's mouth.
you probably had to be there.
but it was funny as fuck that a person knows enough about a movie coming out in 9 months to use the word symbiote.
then we watched the trailer for the fountain. looks enticing. the most interesting thing i learned was that the movie is made with little to no CGI's.
what are cgi's you ask.
yeah.
well so did i.
apparently with a dumbass look on my face (as per usual).
so watch the trailer and appreciate that it is film.
like real, chemical smelling plastic kodak moments manipulated by something other than a computer. and that the guy who is behind it did reqium for a dream and pi.
here is a super long article on the movie.
clip from the above article...
Aronofsky noted earlier while on set, "When I started the film I said no computer graphics, let's find one of those old time guys and see what they've been doing."
They found their guy in Peter Parks. Parks specializes in macro/micro photography. Funded in part by the Bahamas government, Park's company goes very deep under the sea, pulling up microorganism and photographing them in 3D.
"He showed us one of these images which was a larva sea anemone eating a larva shrimp in 3D," said Dawson. "Some of the most amazing stuff."
Parks is no stranger to comics, either, having provided the visual effects for "Supergirl." He's received Technical Achievement Academy Awards twice in his career, in 1982 and 1987, and was presented with the Gordono E. Sawyer Award in 2004, an award which according to the Academy's Web site is presented to "an individual in the motion picture industry whose technological contributions have brought credit to the industry."
Dawson said that staying away from CGI for this film has presented them with some huge challenges. "Using CG is really the easy route because it's so prevalent and the tools are great. What it did was really force us to come up with creative solutions to solve a lot of our problems. We sort of ended up in visual effects somewhat by accident. We know the technology, but we also come from this sort of do it yourself world."
Catches thieves, just like flies
Look out! Here comes the Spider-man!
Is he strong? Listen, Bud!
He's got radioactive blood.
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead.
Hey there, there goes the Spider-man!
and if you couldn't sing along with that, then stop reading now and delete this site from your cache.
immediately.
because peter parker is hot, even if tobey maguire isn't.
(tobEy. with an E. are you fucking kidding me?)
as i'm sitting at work today around 10:30 am, one of my favorite blasts from the past drops by to tell me what his life has become. these moments are the reason that i still do what i do. you can always find me- same time same place like your favorite cartoon after school. except i can't spin a web; nor do i have wolf blades flinging from my phalanges (mmmm... hugh jackman- now there's a fucking super hero)
anyway...
i work with some of the most amazingly intelligent people in the universe, and i love that even when they leave, they return to tell me what music i am missing out on, what books are kicking it live, and what movies i need to go see. they even bring me tv shows to watch.
out of the love that i work with comes the ecstasy of a season of firefly on dvd and the accompanying motion picture serenity. i am pumped. joss whedon (speaking of joss) is a demagogue of screen writing genius, and i have been trying to fit these little pups into my viewing kennel for a good 3 months.
as well, i may be getting access to titus- let me know if this is a good thing. i've heard the writing is pretty hot.
sooo.. chatting with my peeps, and i watch the trailer for spiderman 3.
no shit, the words, "It’s a symbiote that bonds to his suit." flies out of someone's mouth.
you probably had to be there.
but it was funny as fuck that a person knows enough about a movie coming out in 9 months to use the word symbiote.
then we watched the trailer for the fountain. looks enticing. the most interesting thing i learned was that the movie is made with little to no CGI's.
what are cgi's you ask.
yeah.
well so did i.
apparently with a dumbass look on my face (as per usual).
so watch the trailer and appreciate that it is film.
like real, chemical smelling plastic kodak moments manipulated by something other than a computer. and that the guy who is behind it did reqium for a dream and pi.
here is a super long article on the movie.
clip from the above article...
Aronofsky noted earlier while on set, "When I started the film I said no computer graphics, let's find one of those old time guys and see what they've been doing."
They found their guy in Peter Parks. Parks specializes in macro/micro photography. Funded in part by the Bahamas government, Park's company goes very deep under the sea, pulling up microorganism and photographing them in 3D.
"He showed us one of these images which was a larva sea anemone eating a larva shrimp in 3D," said Dawson. "Some of the most amazing stuff."
Parks is no stranger to comics, either, having provided the visual effects for "Supergirl." He's received Technical Achievement Academy Awards twice in his career, in 1982 and 1987, and was presented with the Gordono E. Sawyer Award in 2004, an award which according to the Academy's Web site is presented to "an individual in the motion picture industry whose technological contributions have brought credit to the industry."
Dawson said that staying away from CGI for this film has presented them with some huge challenges. "Using CG is really the easy route because it's so prevalent and the tools are great. What it did was really force us to come up with creative solutions to solve a lot of our problems. We sort of ended up in visual effects somewhat by accident. We know the technology, but we also come from this sort of do it yourself world."
9.11.2006
quote of the day
knoxville's local alternative news source the metro pulse is the best on the planet.
short.
funny.
politico fantastico.
they also have jack neely, a local author who writes about knoxville's "secret history".
his last aricle about the mabry-hazen house ends so...
"Women who read her story may wonder if something has been lost since the days when, if a woman had sex with a man, he plausibly owed her his life. Or at least a whole lot of money."
i am living in the wrong decade.
http://www.metropulse.com/articles/2006/16_36/secret_history.shtml
short.
funny.
politico fantastico.
they also have jack neely, a local author who writes about knoxville's "secret history".
his last aricle about the mabry-hazen house ends so...
"Women who read her story may wonder if something has been lost since the days when, if a woman had sex with a man, he plausibly owed her his life. Or at least a whole lot of money."
i am living in the wrong decade.
http://www.metropulse.com/articles/2006/16_36/secret_history.shtml
a sense of where you are
so today marks my official recovery from backpainpalooza.
even if it hurts, i'm not dying so i need to again start living.
and i read this article today by john mcphee (if you don't know him, go read him. f-ing amazing non-fiction writer) that detailed the playing style and mentality of bill bradley in his princeton years. not that i give a rat's ass about princeton basketball- but i do have a new love affair with bradley after learning that he taught himself peripheral vision in his youth.
what a stud.
point being
he has a philosophy that "there has never been a great athelte who did not know what pain is". so i am running through the pain. only 3 miles, and i ate like 10 peperocinis before i went (bad news. fire in the gullet peeps. i am a fucking idiot).
but i did it damn it, and i'm doin it again tommorrow. i hate running less than 5 miles, but i am an official invalid and must act as so for at least 4 days. i have issues with taking it easy, unless by easy you mean a hot guy with a half gallon of ice cream. i'll take him, and it will be easy.
inspired by bradley and my little trist with asphalt, i went to yoga, which is why i originally started to post tonight.
the yoga center of nashville off of columbine in berry hill is freakshowtastic.
jan campbell is the instructor and it was the most kick ass- not yuppie- no hottiefaker- sweet yoga class ever. my god- she dares instruct and correct. she also dared to be 73 years old and in better shape than lance armstrong.
i have a new hero.
she is my hero.
hero.
even if it hurts, i'm not dying so i need to again start living.
and i read this article today by john mcphee (if you don't know him, go read him. f-ing amazing non-fiction writer) that detailed the playing style and mentality of bill bradley in his princeton years. not that i give a rat's ass about princeton basketball- but i do have a new love affair with bradley after learning that he taught himself peripheral vision in his youth.
what a stud.
point being
he has a philosophy that "there has never been a great athelte who did not know what pain is". so i am running through the pain. only 3 miles, and i ate like 10 peperocinis before i went (bad news. fire in the gullet peeps. i am a fucking idiot).
but i did it damn it, and i'm doin it again tommorrow. i hate running less than 5 miles, but i am an official invalid and must act as so for at least 4 days. i have issues with taking it easy, unless by easy you mean a hot guy with a half gallon of ice cream. i'll take him, and it will be easy.
inspired by bradley and my little trist with asphalt, i went to yoga, which is why i originally started to post tonight.
the yoga center of nashville off of columbine in berry hill is freakshowtastic.
jan campbell is the instructor and it was the most kick ass- not yuppie- no hottiefaker- sweet yoga class ever. my god- she dares instruct and correct. she also dared to be 73 years old and in better shape than lance armstrong.
i have a new hero.
she is my hero.
hero.
9.09.2006
square dance
each day, i sit at my job and note the ways it has not changed in the past five years. consequently, i have been looking into other opportunities as of recent. i've considered a lucrative move into sales or possibly becoming a member of cirque de soleil.
i was going to start yoga monday.
but no-this morning, i found my calling.
even though i'm so white that i glow in the dark- i am determined to become an urban choreography artist.
i am obsessed.
instead of the us open on usa, a lovely movie, entitled You Got Served, is playing this cloudy morn. i've never seen such beauty... such flexibility... such funkiness. and the vernacular that comes with the job. can't you just see me sayin',
"throwin' that hate"
"this here ain't right"
"we out"
i just tried my first handstand, curled flip to a split.
fell on my head.
may need some practice.
oh. now they are dancing in a thunderstorm ala flashdance.
i'm goin' for the handstand again.
i was going to start yoga monday.
but no-this morning, i found my calling.
even though i'm so white that i glow in the dark- i am determined to become an urban choreography artist.
i am obsessed.
instead of the us open on usa, a lovely movie, entitled You Got Served, is playing this cloudy morn. i've never seen such beauty... such flexibility... such funkiness. and the vernacular that comes with the job. can't you just see me sayin',
"throwin' that hate"
"this here ain't right"
"we out"
i just tried my first handstand, curled flip to a split.
fell on my head.
may need some practice.
oh. now they are dancing in a thunderstorm ala flashdance.
i'm goin' for the handstand again.
9.08.2006
the yellow wallpaper remover
i found my alternative to paxil, not that i've had the balls to take any. recent doctor visits have convinced me that i am crazy. so, i'm now only participating in alternative medicines for my health- so here's my alternative.
1. go to grimey's and buy a cd. something guaranteed- not risky. a band to love whose collection is not yet complete on the ipod. i chose the starlight mints. important to this is flirting with every person of opposite sex in the store. even giggle at the cat at the register. acting dumb is a good ruse. spilling all credit cards and forgetting you pin# interacts well with this medication.
2. go to major book store chain, even though they violate all laws of decency. forget karhma and drool through aisles of shiny books and violent pricetags. spend at least $100 on books that you have wanted to read for months- forget that a library card is on the keychain in your wallet. oh- and buy the stupid piece of chocolate at the counter. flirting with the man in the wheelchair interacts well with this medication- he loves it; it's the best lurid stare you'll get all night.
3. stop at bongo java. try to talk the coffee guy into grinding your beans. he'll talk you out of it, even though you don't have a grinder (never mind trying to figure out how your gonna grind the beans once you get home). then, fantasize about hooking up with the coffee guy who is 2/3 your age and also works at the climbing wall. then scarf a las paletas popsicle. almost hitting 2 hot belmont students in the parking lot interacts well with this med.
4. watch a horibble hallmark channel movie that perverts charisma carpenter from the bitch you loved in buffy to a whiny, fat nightmare (they gotta work on these new-fangled widescreen tv's). then, thank god you don't look like her. she needs to cover up the mole again. puking. wait- is she about to lesbian-out with the chick from "Charmed"? nah. never mind. she's just making friends. and now she's crying in a beauty salon because she doesn't want to wear precious peach polish.
damn.
my life is good.
i'm cured.
this should help too.
http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/allthekingsmen/
1. go to grimey's and buy a cd. something guaranteed- not risky. a band to love whose collection is not yet complete on the ipod. i chose the starlight mints. important to this is flirting with every person of opposite sex in the store. even giggle at the cat at the register. acting dumb is a good ruse. spilling all credit cards and forgetting you pin# interacts well with this medication.
2. go to major book store chain, even though they violate all laws of decency. forget karhma and drool through aisles of shiny books and violent pricetags. spend at least $100 on books that you have wanted to read for months- forget that a library card is on the keychain in your wallet. oh- and buy the stupid piece of chocolate at the counter. flirting with the man in the wheelchair interacts well with this medication- he loves it; it's the best lurid stare you'll get all night.
3. stop at bongo java. try to talk the coffee guy into grinding your beans. he'll talk you out of it, even though you don't have a grinder (never mind trying to figure out how your gonna grind the beans once you get home). then, fantasize about hooking up with the coffee guy who is 2/3 your age and also works at the climbing wall. then scarf a las paletas popsicle. almost hitting 2 hot belmont students in the parking lot interacts well with this med.
4. watch a horibble hallmark channel movie that perverts charisma carpenter from the bitch you loved in buffy to a whiny, fat nightmare (they gotta work on these new-fangled widescreen tv's). then, thank god you don't look like her. she needs to cover up the mole again. puking. wait- is she about to lesbian-out with the chick from "Charmed"? nah. never mind. she's just making friends. and now she's crying in a beauty salon because she doesn't want to wear precious peach polish.
damn.
my life is good.
i'm cured.
this should help too.
http://www.sonypictures.com/movies/allthekingsmen/
one flew over the cuckoos' nest
i am boycotting modern medicine.
unless i start bleeding out of my eyeballs or asshole.
then i may go back to a doctor.
but for now- I AM DONE.
it's not that i'm afraid of docs.
i just don't go- except when it really hurts.
and, since i have lived in nashville i have been to the doctor concerning
(am i really sharing this) yes- four things.
1) an earache requiring major decongestants and narcotics
2) a miscarriage requiring major therapy and corner crying
3) some tendonitis requiring a black boot and 21 aleve
and this week's excruciating back pain requiring NOTHING
okay- maybe i got some lortab, but only 10mg pills.
cheap. cheap.
what i wanted was a diagnosis. some grown up to say- gosh, you come to the doctor like never. like, when your ailment is real. let's see what's wrong.
what i did not want was- well, nothing showed up on your ultrasound (did you read the last post, intra-what?) would you like us to prescribe physical therapy?
um. no.
the only person who's gonna need physical therapy is you, nurse ratchet.
after i jump through the phone and beat your ass.
wait.
i can't.
my back hurts too much.
fuck doctors.
i may not even get my teeth cleaned this year.
unless i start bleeding out of my eyeballs or asshole.
then i may go back to a doctor.
but for now- I AM DONE.
it's not that i'm afraid of docs.
i just don't go- except when it really hurts.
and, since i have lived in nashville i have been to the doctor concerning
(am i really sharing this) yes- four things.
1) an earache requiring major decongestants and narcotics
2) a miscarriage requiring major therapy and corner crying
3) some tendonitis requiring a black boot and 21 aleve
and this week's excruciating back pain requiring NOTHING
okay- maybe i got some lortab, but only 10mg pills.
cheap. cheap.
what i wanted was a diagnosis. some grown up to say- gosh, you come to the doctor like never. like, when your ailment is real. let's see what's wrong.
what i did not want was- well, nothing showed up on your ultrasound (did you read the last post, intra-what?) would you like us to prescribe physical therapy?
um. no.
the only person who's gonna need physical therapy is you, nurse ratchet.
after i jump through the phone and beat your ass.
wait.
i can't.
my back hurts too much.
fuck doctors.
i may not even get my teeth cleaned this year.
9.04.2006
the sound of failure
i've been gone a long time b/c i've been sticking my hand in the cage of a bear who bites.
i know he bites.
he bites and then retreats to the corner to plan his next attack.
it's not the bear's fault, i know he bites.
okay-
i have a masters degree.
not so much is it in topography or geography.
nor is it in common sense- obviously.
i hate admitting it, but i got lost- really lost- on my way from st. louis to nashville.
i also got a speeding ticket, but that's the norm.
as for getting lost, i was chatting on the phone to my favorite tennis pro, telling him the story of this time i left knoxville to head to nashville, drove 50 miles, stopped for gas, got back on the interstate and ENDED UP BACK IN KNOXVILLE before i realized i was going the wrong way on I-40. no fucking lie, as i am telling this story, i start to notice that the exits on my "interstate" are looking way less interstate. like let's pop 3 feet of the highway to get gas instead of let's take the 2 mile off ramp to get gas in tehran.
soooo, i say- hold on i've got to check this sign to see what city i'm passing.
then i say, fuck i think i'm lost, let me call you back.
stop.
get gas.
look at map.
the interstate i'm supposed to be on is 70 miles north of my gas station.
did i mention that i quit smoking on tuesday?
well, i took a hiatus from the land of healthy lungs, my friends.
i also broke my "there's no crying in road trips" rule.
a pack of marlboro ultra light 100's and a diet berry-who-the-fuck-knows what else dr. pepper later, i am making loops in south east missouri.
as i'm prayin for the new madrid fault to rip and put me out of my misery, i get stuck behind a cattle truck. these trucks are the reason i eat beef 3 times a year; well the trucks and some gastro-intestinal revolutions that we won't discuss.
so i'm stuck behind a cattle truck on a state highway that will later dead end at the mississippi/ohio river (oh yes peeps- look closely on the blacklines on your maps. some don't cross the river). and i see a sign that says "you can't stop drop and roll in hell".
nice.
then i get lost again in charleston, missouri.
cute little town.
sixteen cigarettes and 2 hours later, i am on the road to paducah with a sore throat and an aching back. an aching, wretchedly painful back that brought some other girly pains to the pain party in my body.
the party made me go to the doctor today.
an event that takes me to tomorrow's ultra-sound.
can you say intravaginal?
well, i can too.
and so can my doctor.
and soon will my therapist.
i know he bites.
he bites and then retreats to the corner to plan his next attack.
it's not the bear's fault, i know he bites.
okay-
i have a masters degree.
not so much is it in topography or geography.
nor is it in common sense- obviously.
i hate admitting it, but i got lost- really lost- on my way from st. louis to nashville.
i also got a speeding ticket, but that's the norm.
as for getting lost, i was chatting on the phone to my favorite tennis pro, telling him the story of this time i left knoxville to head to nashville, drove 50 miles, stopped for gas, got back on the interstate and ENDED UP BACK IN KNOXVILLE before i realized i was going the wrong way on I-40. no fucking lie, as i am telling this story, i start to notice that the exits on my "interstate" are looking way less interstate. like let's pop 3 feet of the highway to get gas instead of let's take the 2 mile off ramp to get gas in tehran.
soooo, i say- hold on i've got to check this sign to see what city i'm passing.
then i say, fuck i think i'm lost, let me call you back.
stop.
get gas.
look at map.
the interstate i'm supposed to be on is 70 miles north of my gas station.
did i mention that i quit smoking on tuesday?
well, i took a hiatus from the land of healthy lungs, my friends.
i also broke my "there's no crying in road trips" rule.
a pack of marlboro ultra light 100's and a diet berry-who-the-fuck-knows what else dr. pepper later, i am making loops in south east missouri.
as i'm prayin for the new madrid fault to rip and put me out of my misery, i get stuck behind a cattle truck. these trucks are the reason i eat beef 3 times a year; well the trucks and some gastro-intestinal revolutions that we won't discuss.
so i'm stuck behind a cattle truck on a state highway that will later dead end at the mississippi/ohio river (oh yes peeps- look closely on the blacklines on your maps. some don't cross the river). and i see a sign that says "you can't stop drop and roll in hell".
nice.
then i get lost again in charleston, missouri.
cute little town.
sixteen cigarettes and 2 hours later, i am on the road to paducah with a sore throat and an aching back. an aching, wretchedly painful back that brought some other girly pains to the pain party in my body.
the party made me go to the doctor today.
an event that takes me to tomorrow's ultra-sound.
can you say intravaginal?
well, i can too.
and so can my doctor.
and soon will my therapist.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
