chillout tent

this morning, i am sitting on my couch in my kitchen.

the couch smells like pot and has for 4 years.
i bought it with returned wedding gifts.
sorry if you bought me the waffle iron.
that it smells like pot is absolute karma.
i shouldn't return presents that people give me.
especially when i have asked for them with the intention of returning them to buy something else.
it's deceitful.
and selfish.

luckily, i am divorced and aunt marie will never know that her waffle iron went straight back to goldsmiths, and she really bought me 9 square inches of a leather couch.
that smells like pot.

actually, marie may like that. she smoked a lot of pot in her day. it explains why she licks her fingers after she eats and before she shakes your hand.

an
e
way
the kitchen is full of all of the things that i had to move so that the carpet installers could do their job. i think they just broke a hole in the floor.

new carpet rocks.
i don't have to wear shower shoes inside my house any more.
yes, i did.

oh... another hole.
I bet my downstairs neighbors do not have a plaster ceiling any more.
but i have carpet which brings me one step closer to getting laid.

trust me.
it all makes sense.

hoobastank

how many farts does it take in a cube before the entire office reeks?
this feels like question for the tootsie pop owl.
wonder where that cat is these days.
he soooooo needed an eyebrow wax.

jesus loves me

so last night i trolled though blogger profiles in the nashville area while watching a movie alone. exactly the kind of behavior i like to ridicule.

anyways, if i had to guess, i would estimate that 29.9856% of nashville bloggers are blogging for christ. i had no idea that proselytizing had gone digital. what ever happened to putting on a tie and walking through neighborhoods on summer days? whatever happened to stopping on the edge of consummation to radically disappoint a lover? whatever happened to standing on a milk crate on the street corner?

one could also ask, what ever happened to looking for interesting people out in public, instead of on your computer?

touche. i'm going to drink coffee on a patio.

the moment it was over

wanting to be a squirrel on a fence
lyle lovett at the symphony
ceramic chickens for christmas
sitting in their jacuzzi
driving him to the smokies
inviting me on a reversal
four minutes after the last swallow of a pint of vodka

most things end in a single moment.
sometimes we stick around, telling ourselves that moment wasn't the end.
but it was.

what i like(d) about you

i used to worry that i was obsessive.

it would bother me that i found distinct comfort in the familiar unreal of arranging the "wrapping presents" basket so that each sharpie, ribbon, and calling card had its place in the longaberger.

i thought it odd that an unclean corner on a christmas gift was a sin worse than stealing.

and if i have an eyebrow more than .00000365 centimeters long, i feel like the hairiest (wo)man beast on the planet. tweezing is a sacrament.

it just doesn't bother me anymore.
well, the eyebrow bothers me, but that it bothers me, doesn't bother me. there's comfort in knowing that we work a certain way, and even though you have control of what you do, you don't. even though you do.

ultimately losing control to being controlled by the part of you that lives in darwinian fear is what we are.

and with that in mind, i can not even begin to control what i liked about you.

1. reading comic books in the car before work and leaving them in the back seat because you were embarrassed to take them inside.
2. knowing that carrying a prada purse was not worshiping it.
3. making fun of everything to avoid seeing it.
4. taking 30 days of sobriety as a catapult into cyclone.
5. ruining my favorite song from 8th grade.
6. understanding the power of mean and using it.
7. reading the new yorker in order from front to back, using the subscription insert to hold your place.
8. understanding all of this.

adventures in solitude

i didn't make it to church a couple of weeks ago.
forget why.
gonna try again this weekend- Holly Street Methodist.

also gonna make a home.
it's only been 2 years since i've had one.
painting and extermination are key to this venture.
a little stink removal, too.
who the fuck invented carpet?
tar and feather, baby, tar and feather.

i'm getting emotional.
i really have not had a place that felt like home in 2 years.
i haven't lived by myself in 6 years.
i'm about to start my period.
and i'm missing my best friend's baby's birthday.
waterworks.

there really is no god

so my new apt does not have a dishwasher.
which is really sad.

what it does have is 2 block access to bars where open marriage 41 year olds nervously laugh and espouse the rhetoric of popular psychologists.

wow.
all really need is a dishwasher.
and, maybe, a stove.

holy holy holy

so i'm planning on going to church tomorrow. i need some forgiveness. i can't decide if i'm gonna head to the episcopal church or the methodist church. i think that the methodist church in my neighborhood has funky music.

ain't
no
way.

i can't do drums, guitars or flutes at church.
i'll let you know.

girls just wanna have fun

i am employed again.
i've had 3 dates in a week.
i like a boy... or two hundred.

however,
the sewer lines in my new place have been severed.
the bathroom is a cluster fuck.
i haven't pulled up the carpet yet and have to paint for a week.

bipolarity is a running theme in my life.
yeah!
boo!

economics

i am a big fan of the law of diminising returns.
especially in application to food, men, and birthdays.

think about it.
a scoop of ice cream- not enough.
a pint of mint chocolate chip... pretty bad ass. almost eupohric.
a quart of ice cream- shitting your pants in the morning.

men follow the same trajectory...
meeting when you are out and flirting... ultimate hopeful tease.
first date at a local restaurant- you're in love.
looking at his man-hair on the bathroom floor after you've been shacking for 3 months- disgusting.

however, neither of these is as pronounced as the law in its application to age.

1- you can walk
2- you can talk
3- you can use the toilet
4- you learn to share
5- you write your name
13- you're a teenager, but you get your period
16- you can drive, but you can kill someone in your car
18- you can buy cigarettes and cocktails in new orleans, but you go to big boy jail
21- beer.
25- car insurance goes down, you can rent a car. but you also find your first wrinkle.
30 isn't dirty, but it is the peak of a downward slope.
now that i've cusped 30 what is there to look forward to?
40- decreased libido
45- crows feet become ostrich claws.
49- are you fucking kidding me. half a century only looks good on a classic car.
75- if i were art deco furniture this would be a good year.

when can i join the AARP?