WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE THAT’S…
AMORE (THAT’S AMORE)…

I.       am.        blotto.

how come there’s no currently drinking:  here on xanga??

there’s a really good reason…  but I can’t articulate it…
a good reason, as in POSITIVE.  I done been happified, but after hosting 3 parties in one weekend, I deserved to get a little pissed.
on the scale of one to ten:  right in between slurring my words and publicly wetting myself.

I looked through the pics, and was amused to find that the image of   ruthless_logic was dc00666.  how apropos (sp?  where’s my red pen…).  rl is lush-o-licious…just as advertised.  of course, I already knew that, so no extra points por moi.

here are the reasons for celebrating:

no one was ninjured.
no one cried.
everyone left with who they came with.
groover brought me chocolate.
kia sephia had boobs that I can’t even speak of without blushing…
what was I saying?

I got to bounce in the dogmation chamber…so did the mamas.

and did I mention I DIDN’T WET MYSELF

um, nevermind…
gotta go.

it turns out that I have two day hair:  if it looks like death on saturday, sunday’s a gonna be a good one.

the bigger my hair gets, the smaller my ass looks.
now I understand texas.

the party didn’t end at my house until 5am, when I stalked in and announced, “YOU WILL GO TO SLEEP!!!!!!”

…but my hair’s awake and I found one last pair of clean undies before I hit the pathetic ones at the back of the bottom drawer.  score.

world mama village at my house today…no idea how many are coming, but at least three countries will be represented.  the bouncer’s still here; maybe there will be pics.  I hope they eat all the potato salad.  there was a vat of pot.sal.  and one small tub of beets.  in terms of amount available to amount eaten, the beets won out.  will the wonders never cease??

people to see, doughnuts to eat.  I’m outa here.

the birthday gretel…

I need a haircut…

and makeup.

I’m ramblin’ ramblin’ ramblin’ ramblin’ ramblin’ ramblin…

we were flying solo today…it’s unusual…the man generally works from home, and can I just say:  what’s in it for me?  I mean, dayum, he’s HERE but I can’t duck out and leave the kids because he’s Working (say that in a long drawn out, condescending tone…).  so anyways, it’s good times, because not only is he out for the day, but the evening as well.  you know what that means don’t you…bartender, happy meals all around! 

we went out to the smoke shop and hung around until the limpets were positively BRUTALLY whinging, about two hours, which must be a record.  the cigar store is like another world, fairy town or some such thing…it takes a while to come down.  driving down the road with the windows open, everything but the girl playing, and joy streaming like motherfucking sunshine…what does it take to snap back to reality…the bickersons in the jumpseats.  they can’t contain it for one more minute.  it’s not like I can even HEAR what they’re wailing about, just the general sentiment.

I’m frequently racking my vocal chords with the bizarre epithet:
STOP.  SCREAAAAAAAAMING!

I should feel guilty…maybe I’m broken, but I don’t.  maybe I SHOULD have grown up before having children, but it’s never too late.  I intend to work on it tomorrow, so why feel guilty today?

in about 36 hours, about 60 people are coming to my house.  I should prolly scrub the toilets or sumpin.

I saw Gwen Stefani (in some magazine) wearing my underwear, the underwear I’ve been wearing for the last 14 years.  I’ve decided not to care.  (editor’s note:  she was not wearing MY underwear, per se, not the ones from MY DRAWER…and I haven’t been wearing the SAME PAIR for 14 years).

the new family practice doctor is gorgeous and young…I will be scheduling my annual shmere with the pa this year.

can I just say that I am ever so thankfull that I am younger than Demi Moore?  my fantasy life stays just as rich as ever…and NO, Ashton Kutcher does NOT do it for me.  I don’t know, the SCRUTINY just bugs me, that and my own ageism, which sucks.  why do I even know this shit?  apparently I’ve been spending too much time in supermarket lines.  I should already know that since babyjane managed to slip three chapsticks and a pack of rollo’s into the goods at freddie’s.

I have spoken.

jane, sit down and eat your quesadilla…
NO!
jane, get off your sister and sit in your own chair…
No…I’m nusing my special powers!
(turns her head to glare at me with crossed eyes)

she also happens to be wearing a saggy diaper and a bridal gown, which makes this tableau all the stranger…

I tried to nuse my special powers on her, but apparently I need more practice.

HARK!
I have discovered the Hot Glue Gun
and it is a mighty weapon
BACK
or I shall smite thee
and annoint thy corpse with painted wooden stars!

two fish…one swimmin’ upstream
one swimmin’ down livin’ in a dream…  ~e.badu

i can’t seem to wrap my mind around dualism.
maybe the whole point is not to try.

there’s a thread on the bb
are you going to hell?
honestly, i’ve not even clicked on it
it doesn’t really matter

I feel the need
to ramble
not just here, in fact
that wasn’t what I was thinking about
I just want to live a moment at a time
tired of plans and obligations
my mind is only calm
when the have-to’s are pushed away

I don’t want to talk about swimming lessons
I just want to talk about your visions
or uranus

mom, you have a big heart.

thanks!

cause you keep your big heart in your belly, right?

thanks.

having kids is too cool.  they break your mind out of it’s grooved track.

from one chick to another:
“do you know what a freeway is, BabyJane?”
“yes!”
“say no…”
“no!”
“well, it’s a…”

and all of a sudden you have to THINK about what it actually IS.
and WOW, how cool is a freeway!   and I had never thought about it!

it gets even better if you have another one, whose sole purpose is just to roll their eyes and groan…