I'm getting ready to head back to St. Louis to see the family for the holidays. I've got a friend coming in to watch my cats for me, so of course I need to wipe the memory of my recent web pages so she doesn't see just how much porn I need to get through the single life. Or, erotica if you insist, but a rose is a rose.
I wish you all have a wonderful holiday. Enjoy yourselves and stay out of trouble!
Friday, December 23, 2005
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Holiday Romance
No, don't get any ideas. I'm not saying that I've had any of my own. I've sworn off until I get my life settled and, I have to admit, watching Sethro go through his trials and tribulations has proved to me that men don't have any more of a clue what they are looking for than women do.
No, what I'm talking about is all the romance on tv, that seems to pervade the holiday season. I've been watching old movies and new movies and Christmas themed tv shows while my brain rots out my ears and I quietly work on my latest disaster of a blanket. The worst offender is the Hallmark channel which shows movies aimed at a younger generation, old maids in their 30s (sounds familar), but has commercials for Cialis, fragile bones and Depends. I too want a boyfriend for Christmas, and believe in Santa Claus and have been looking for a holiday miracle, but I'm getting the distinct feeling that all those stories are fiction, not based on any possibility that Santa will drop into my living room on the big day with a list of people I would be compatible to hang out with and/or a behemoth of a man that has been looking for me for years to help him in his quest to find out what adventure actually is.
It isn't just in shows and movies either. What about the commercial where some idiot commandeers a snow plow, endangering the lives of others so he can hurry home to the supermodel sleeping the living room? Or the radio commercials for jewelry stores for those clueless men who are looking for something unique and beautiful to give to their special someone that is just like the ones all their buddies are giving to their wives?
Ahhh, but I sound bitter. I'm not really, honestly. The doctor says I'm continuing to show improvement. There is one commercial that has just impressed the hell out of me, though. It is the Salvation Army bell ringer. She is standing in front someone whose home has burned, in front of a homeless man and on the roof in a flood. I already give to a couple of charities, including United Way, but I never feel it is enough. I might have to call the Red Cross next year and see if they could use my wide skills in crocheting, watching tv and reading books inappropriate for children.
I recently heard Alice's Restaurant again. They used to play it everything Thanksgiving morning in St. Louis on one of the local stations, I think K-SHE, if I'm remember it correctly. What a huge trip down memory lane. The guy I dated in high school, had parents who were old hippies. I can remember going to their house for dinner and listening to Arlo Guthrie on the record player. Arlo and James Taylor. It is amazing what you take with you from previous relationships. From that one I have an affection for JT and Arlo, the liberal use of garlic and large families. A couple of relationships later I came out of it with a cat. And a sofa table. I guess you can't really escape your past, especially if you are taking it with you.
No, what I'm talking about is all the romance on tv, that seems to pervade the holiday season. I've been watching old movies and new movies and Christmas themed tv shows while my brain rots out my ears and I quietly work on my latest disaster of a blanket. The worst offender is the Hallmark channel which shows movies aimed at a younger generation, old maids in their 30s (sounds familar), but has commercials for Cialis, fragile bones and Depends. I too want a boyfriend for Christmas, and believe in Santa Claus and have been looking for a holiday miracle, but I'm getting the distinct feeling that all those stories are fiction, not based on any possibility that Santa will drop into my living room on the big day with a list of people I would be compatible to hang out with and/or a behemoth of a man that has been looking for me for years to help him in his quest to find out what adventure actually is.
It isn't just in shows and movies either. What about the commercial where some idiot commandeers a snow plow, endangering the lives of others so he can hurry home to the supermodel sleeping the living room? Or the radio commercials for jewelry stores for those clueless men who are looking for something unique and beautiful to give to their special someone that is just like the ones all their buddies are giving to their wives?
Ahhh, but I sound bitter. I'm not really, honestly. The doctor says I'm continuing to show improvement. There is one commercial that has just impressed the hell out of me, though. It is the Salvation Army bell ringer. She is standing in front someone whose home has burned, in front of a homeless man and on the roof in a flood. I already give to a couple of charities, including United Way, but I never feel it is enough. I might have to call the Red Cross next year and see if they could use my wide skills in crocheting, watching tv and reading books inappropriate for children.
I recently heard Alice's Restaurant again. They used to play it everything Thanksgiving morning in St. Louis on one of the local stations, I think K-SHE, if I'm remember it correctly. What a huge trip down memory lane. The guy I dated in high school, had parents who were old hippies. I can remember going to their house for dinner and listening to Arlo Guthrie on the record player. Arlo and James Taylor. It is amazing what you take with you from previous relationships. From that one I have an affection for JT and Arlo, the liberal use of garlic and large families. A couple of relationships later I came out of it with a cat. And a sofa table. I guess you can't really escape your past, especially if you are taking it with you.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
How weird am I?
While Sethro may not like pilfering from other people's blogs, I have no real problem doing it. I found this after tooling around on his blog....
Of course, I'm a little upset that I'm not more bizarre, but what's a girl to do?
Work has just all around sucked. I had to have a feedback session with my employees to find out how they felt about me, and I can't say that I'm surprised, but it still sucks to know these people are intimidated by me. Pansies. I was pretty excited to find out that I had a few supporters in the group so things aren't as bad as they could be. We'll see. I'll be so happy though, when we finally get through this trial period bullshit and they stop comparing me to their last boss. Cause I've just about had it hearing his name. If he hadn't fucked the place up royally the first time, then I wouldn't have to be up their asses to fix it.
On a personal front, friends and family are seriously encouraging me to get my ass out. I want to, but I'm too damn stubborn to just pack up my cats and leave. I need to stick this out and see where it takes me. If I let this place beat me I will not be able to look myself in the face again. I really want a house though, I've fully come to that conclusion. Now I have to decide if I'm going to sacrifice my trip to Ireland next year to make sure I've got my ducks in a row.
In other news, I'm going to go see Stais in February. She may not want me, but dammit, I'm coming up anyway. I've got Dean Martin's "Baby, It's Cold Outside" running through my head. I might have to lay down until it passes.
Oh, and for all of you who need to bypass all that nasty verbal business when searching for a girl, get yourselves this cool new toy, and see just how lucky you get! Thanks Trainwreck!
| You Are 50% Weird |
 |
Of course, I'm a little upset that I'm not more bizarre, but what's a girl to do?
Work has just all around sucked. I had to have a feedback session with my employees to find out how they felt about me, and I can't say that I'm surprised, but it still sucks to know these people are intimidated by me. Pansies. I was pretty excited to find out that I had a few supporters in the group so things aren't as bad as they could be. We'll see. I'll be so happy though, when we finally get through this trial period bullshit and they stop comparing me to their last boss. Cause I've just about had it hearing his name. If he hadn't fucked the place up royally the first time, then I wouldn't have to be up their asses to fix it.
On a personal front, friends and family are seriously encouraging me to get my ass out. I want to, but I'm too damn stubborn to just pack up my cats and leave. I need to stick this out and see where it takes me. If I let this place beat me I will not be able to look myself in the face again. I really want a house though, I've fully come to that conclusion. Now I have to decide if I'm going to sacrifice my trip to Ireland next year to make sure I've got my ducks in a row.
In other news, I'm going to go see Stais in February. She may not want me, but dammit, I'm coming up anyway. I've got Dean Martin's "Baby, It's Cold Outside" running through my head. I might have to lay down until it passes.
Oh, and for all of you who need to bypass all that nasty verbal business when searching for a girl, get yourselves this cool new toy, and see just how lucky you get! Thanks Trainwreck!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
It's Official
I'm homesick. Of course, I don't know if it is a homesickness for a home, Kansas City or St. Louis. I know that I want a house, I want it so bad I can almost taste it. I'm sure Ive mentioned it before, a brick craftsman house with the big ass porch, lots of trees in the front yard, an older kitchen that I will regret getting because I have to replace every damn thing, creaky floor boards, and a place for me to plant my roses. I just don't know if I want this house to be here in Southern Indiana/Louisville, or if I should take my ass back to K.C. or if I should suck it up and more to St. Louis cause that is where my parents are.
I do know I'm tired of living in apartments/duplexes/townhouses. I'm tired of hearing the doors to the other apartments around me opening and closing; muffled conversations or music; worrying about whether or not I'm disturbing anyone when I'm up at 4:30 in the morning getting ready for work. I want to be irritated at myself because I haven't gotten up early enough to shovel the snow in my driveway.
Having said that, I just don't know where I want it to be. I've been considering living in Kansas City again. I've been talking to old friends out there and thinking about what it was like to live out there. The only problem is that I'm not sure if they really have any good brick craftsman houses and I know they don't have any old neighborhoods (and by old I don't mean 30 years, I'm talking centuries here), except for maybe in the city. I know I should move back to St. Louis, but, while my family is there, there isn't anything else there for me.
Who the hell knows?
I do know I'm tired of living in apartments/duplexes/townhouses. I'm tired of hearing the doors to the other apartments around me opening and closing; muffled conversations or music; worrying about whether or not I'm disturbing anyone when I'm up at 4:30 in the morning getting ready for work. I want to be irritated at myself because I haven't gotten up early enough to shovel the snow in my driveway.
Having said that, I just don't know where I want it to be. I've been considering living in Kansas City again. I've been talking to old friends out there and thinking about what it was like to live out there. The only problem is that I'm not sure if they really have any good brick craftsman houses and I know they don't have any old neighborhoods (and by old I don't mean 30 years, I'm talking centuries here), except for maybe in the city. I know I should move back to St. Louis, but, while my family is there, there isn't anything else there for me.
Who the hell knows?
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