Feelin Mean

Having a mean streak like a mother fucker. Can't explain it, but I'm feeling like a mean girl right now. No, it's not hormones--I SHOULD be pleasant according to my biological clock. But I'm not. It's the kind of feeling that makes you want to go into a biker bar and start a fight just for fun. I wouldn't necessarily have to swing my dukes to be happy; I'd settle for stirring the pot and walkin away. It's the kind of mean that sits deep in your belly waiting for the right target. The hormone kinda mean sits on the surface and picks on anyone stupid enough to enter your personal space. This kinda mean is deep and only finds a worthy target. One who deserves it. Haven't felt this way too many times in my life, really, honest. I have amazing self-control when it comes to my ugly side. I don't let it out to play often enough. Promise to lock onto deserving targets . . . . would probably kick a man in the balls right now who crossed me the wrong way. Consider yourselves warned.

Last Train to Crazyville

So, I was about to blog about metaphorical train wrecks and crazy people when La Nina Loca comes out with "Dora, Ba'splorer. I'm gonna kill her." What? I whip around. What did you say? "I wanna kill Dora Ba'splorer." Dead pan; la nina's SERIOUS. I've wanted to kill Dora before too, but I promise I've never been THAT serious. I'm disturbed. . . .

Anyway, something else is really on my mind today--predictable people who buy one way tickets on the crazy train that ARE going to wreck--100% guaranteed to wreck. Everyone else sees it; everyone else knows it is the outcome of the scenario before it begins. The one person who really, really needs to see it--doesn't. Blinded by what the crazy train promises, they impusively and enthusiastically buy the tickets and jump on with a smile for the ride. Maybe there's nothing wrong with ridin' that train every now and then. It's spontaneous and fun. However, when everyone around them has to help clear the tracks later--it's somewhat of a head shaker for them. Look both ways before gettin on the train boys and girls--both ways.

Bloggus Interruptus

So, this post BEGAN as an informative and expository note about a tribe in Indonesia called the Kombai. The men wear cones on their penises--they are shaped into a perpetual erection and the larger the cone, the higher the male's status within the tribe. No shit, really. There are pics out there, documentaries on Discovery Channel and what not. Anyway--because I have been interrupted 150,789,330 times by la nina loca that post has gone to hell in a handbasket and now Mr or Mrs Reader, you are stuck with this crap. It's hard to think when you're being forced to play "mama" to the plastic baby AND real mama to la nina loca all at the same time. I also had to play doctor or something like it. All I know is that my living room is a hot mess, my blog post went to hell, and now it's the gd bedtime. Why, why can't I be the mom who lies on the couch drinkin booze, smokin some cigs (Marlboro Reds), watchin Springer and yellin at my kids to "go the fuck to bed before I smack the shit out of you"??????? No, I have to be the Barney watchin, 100% Juice drinkin, m'fuckin soccer mom. (with a mouth like a sailor--give me a fuckin break-it's one of my only vices!) So, there will be no scholarly report on a nomadic and sometimes cannibalistic culture acrosst the ocean. Just this crazy shit.

Great Expectations

Marriage is the only adventure open to the cowardly.
Voltaire (1694 - 1778)

I expect A LOT of my significant other. Quite honestly, my marriage is probably the ONLY place in my life that I seek or expect the highest level of focus and achievement on both parties involved. My life's calling should demand that I hold my students to the highest expectations and while I admit that I try, I must admit that I teeter on a tight rope between what I know they can do and what they really WILL do. Character flaw--whatever. My s.o., however, rarely gets any breaks in that area. I expect unfailing devotion, undivided attention, unwavering loyalty, and an unalterable passion. He must complete all manyly tasks without an utterance of question, in a timely fashion, and with perfection. I define what "manyly" tasks are btw. They encompass everything from driving to taking out the trash. Mind-reading and reading between the lines are necessary to meet my expectations. Did I forget pampering, massaging, and anticipating my chocolate and alcohol needs? He must discipline the children, tend laundry, make beds--be one hell of a multi-tasking m'fucker! Agility and speed are also necessary. He must be able to dodge moving objects and race to solve problems. Stamina. This is a must--a man with fortitude who knows how to "hunker down and pray for daylight." I am one demanding, high-maintenance, driven diva and thank you Lord that I have a mate who can keep up!!!!!!!! Mr., you rock at being my man!

WTF? Mr. Computer Voice

So, I'm minding my own business when the phone rings and it's a number I don't know. Typically, I say, "Fuck 'em" and ignore. This time, I actually answered. It was . . . . Mr. Computer Voice reminding me about an appointment that is in a WEEK! My first thought was, "Oh, shit, I've got an appointment tomorrow? That's tomorrow? How could I forget!" While I'm having this inner dialogue with myself HE continues to talk. I start screaming to the phone, "Wait, wait, what???" I frantically look for a pencil, a pen, blood, SOMEthing that will write. He continues barking orders in his monotone voice--park in the South Parking Lot--which lot? what street? I smash my fingers in the drawer searching for the pencil--FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK, that hurts. I keep looking, trying to listen, come how early? bring what??? call what number for questions????

WTF??????????????????????? Did I mention "the reminder" is for an appointment that is NEXT week?

'Nuff Said

Main Entry:
cooperate

Part of Speech:

Verb

Definition:
aid, assist

Synonyms:
abet, advance, agree, back up, band, be in cahoots, befriend, chip in, coadjute, coincide, collaborate, combine, comply with, concert, concur, conduce, conspire, contribute, coordinate, espouse, forward, further, go along with, help, join forces, join in, league*, lend a hand, participate, partner, pitch in, play ball, pool resources, pull together, second, share in, show willingness, side with, stick together, succor, take part, unite, uphold, work side by side, work together

Antonyms:
block, delay, disturb, encumber, handicap, hinder, impede, obstruct, prevent, stop

info complipents of Dictionary.com

Free the Sweaty Ta-ta's!

I finally made it home from my day about 5ish. It's 100 m'fuckin degrees outside and my air conditioning in my vehicle puts out about 40% effort on a good day. All I can think about while I'm running errands is coming home, peeling off my clothes, and letting the girls free of the sweat sling they're in! As I'm peeling out of the sweaty clothes, I glimpse the mirror. I wonder. What would it be like to never cover the girls? What would it be like to go through my day with my stuff showing free to the world? I think about other cultures that find this perfectly acceptable. They cook, conduct business, and entertain themselves fully devoid of clothing on the upper part of their bodies. There's no shame; there's no big deal. It's just, "here they are" all the time. I googled images to put with my posting and the first one brought forth some shocking pics by western world standards! I decided on this very tasteful painting by a Kenyan artist named Mary Ogembo. The title of the piece is "The Soloist." It is a tribute to a South African "diva" singer Miriam Makeba. Don't think I'd be comfortable walking around with the girls saluting the neighbors, strangers, and my co-workers because I was raised in the South, but I still wonder . . . .

She's Been a BAD BAD girl!

I had the most bizarre dream last night. . . . . I was waving a black leather wrapped, gold stud whip around and dancing to You Can Leave Your Hat On. In the background someone said, "Yeah, she's been a bad bad girl!!!!" I guess I shouldn't make lighthearted promises anymore, huh?

Lap Dance!

Okay, I fucked up today. I made a huge social mistake and now owe a friend a lap dance. I am starting to stretch and limber. Going to watch some PCD videos for some slick moves. May re-read Bald Beaver story from Ashley's Closet Blog. Did I mention the friend is a female? The girl on girl stuff puts A LOT of pressure on my performance BECAUSE women are the worst critics! No, we're NOT switch hitting for all you pervs with dirty minds--light hearted silliness to relieve the every day hell of life. Women sit back and go-"I could do that better. I'd gyrate to the left instead of the right. Is she even trying to bounce her ta-ta's? Why didn't she wax THERE?"
Anyway--remember my horoscope for today??? Could this be the "adventure"? Apparently, I am feeling adventurous. Did I mention I was STONE COLD SOBER when I made this offer? I seem to remember some words floating around from this week about "highest integrity" and "high ethical standards." I will manipulate this to mean that I will do a GREAT job. I will do my homework and prepare. Might blog about the outcome. Might not. Stay tuned to find out . . .

Year of the Cock

Things could get tricky today. An unusual opportunity fascinates you, but expect it to be a wilder ride than it appears. If you're ready for a little adventure and complication, by all means proceed. If you'd prefer keeping a predictable, even keel, you should pass on this endeavor.

Okay, dirty gutter minds! I was born in the Year of the Rooster (or cock if you want a giggle) for the purposes of Chinese astrology. I was checking my horoscope for tomorrow b/c the energy feels w-e-i-r-d to me and around me. Now, I tend to be EXTRA paranoid when PMSing and so, I never know if it's the cosmos at work or just me being super CRAZY in the head. When I find myself in that mood, I consult the stars. Tonight I did just that. Didn't like what the cosmos had in store for the Bull, sooooo I moved to the cock. Always find what I want at the cock. Above is my horoscope for tomorrow. Far more exciting than ditching friends that I'm done with (real horoscope crap). I'm curious about the "wild ride." Don't have my significant other around, so that rules out the connotation of "wild ride." Adventure and Complication??? That's my life every mfin day folks. Every day. Tune it tomorrow to find out if there was indeed a "wild ride" that presented "Adventure or Complication"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shut up, Shut up, Shut up!

So, I'm sitting in a meeting today. I'm listening with intent for about ten minutes. Suddenly, it becomes quite apparent why we're all there. THIS person, too was tired of hearing her own voice. Only, instead of politely creating a blog and ranting while rolling eyes, lecturing while creating the sour, dour mouth, she has called a MEETING. We sit there a captive squirming audience. Passing furtive glances at one another. Nervously, shifting weight from one butt cheek to the next. Time seems to actually slow down and stop at one point. After looking at everyone's shoes, clothes, creating a grocery list in my head, thinking about laundry, pondering on David Beckham's CK underwear ads, reality taps and guess what??? She's STILL talking. STILL-with the whining and the sour dour face and head shakes. OMG! How much more can we endure??? The looks of all are of a quiet pain rendering them helpless and hopeless. After an hour and some change. All I can think at this point is: SHUT THE FUCK UP and let me go already!

Metaphorical Thoughts at Bedtime

As I ready the coffee pot for tomorrow and go about ritualistic bedtime motions, my nerve endings are tingling all over. No, haven't smoked any pot, done any drugs, or even had some pre-bedtime booze. I'm going back to work tomorrow after having about eight weeks that I could call my own (within reason, anyway). So, the tingling isn't euphoric, orgasmic, drug-induced tingling. It's the on edge kind. The kind where you dread what's coming next. Then, I have an epiphany. I KNOW this feeling. I've felt it before! It reminds me of when I'm in PMS mode and my spouse knows the garage will be closed for a few days. Sooooo, he begins in the a.m. with the winking and the "looks." You know the "looks." My hormones are convincing my body and my mind that I want no part of anything behind the "looks." Our anticipation levels build all day, but in two VERY different ways. I'm thinkin 'please, God, just let Aunt Flow come a little early.' The obligatory deed hangs out there between us all day. I try not to bend over, wear anything too tight or too revealing, and skip the toothbrushing. THIS is EXACTLY how I feel about going back to work after my extended at-home vacay. I know I'll capitulate; I'll put out or in this case, I'll go. BUT, I won't, won't enjoy it!

Re-born, Phoenix, and other words meaning NEW BLOG!

I've been writing crap on this blog for about six months or so. I get about four or five posts and delete them with a disgusted self-loathing sneer on my face. I feel whiney on the blog. I was whiney when I wrote in a journal with old-fashioned pen and paper! Sooooo, once AGAIN, Muse Girl is having a resurrection! I may whine, bitch, or moan. I may be the only one who reads these posts and castigates the author. But, I must, simply must, give rise to the voice in my head that rolls around like marbles in a jar! No, not schizo-hearing voices. It is my own voice. Frankly, I'm tired of hearing myself sometimes. There is a warning on my blog for a reason. My vocabulary lapses into the vulgar often when passion takes over. So beware and read no more if you have delicate sensibilities! Without further description, I present, "Muse Girl's Thoughts" . . . . . .