I bow down before the wisdom of mizz gurlee (as usual).  I’ve been trying to think of the perfect way to express this for weeks, the absolute necessity that a man MUST call the next day after sex:

“wether it was good or bad, wether or not you have regrets and wether or not you plan to do it again, cuz you know, its good NOT to burn bridges and most importantly because calling the next day prevents anyone from feeling like a dirty whore for a week.”

here ends the gospel.  please rise for the benediction:

all hail gurlee
praise be to breaddog

went out tonight for crepes.  you know, the food, not the men…
a nice time was had by all.

I’m done with my bad mood.  there’s only so long a person can sustain that without killing themselves and I’m just not that dedicated.  I had to cheer the fuck up because it was getting boring.

just now I was thinking “where the hell are my pants??” and it made me miss highdesertlola, ever so much.

I’m looking through you
Beatles lyrics:

I’m looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don’t look different, but you have changed
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same

Your lips are moving, I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing, but the words aren’t clear
You don’t sound differnt, I’ve learned the game.
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

You’re thinking of me, the same old way
You were above me, but not today
The only difference is you’re down there
I’m looking through you, and you’re nowhere.

Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

I’m looking through you, where did you go
I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don’t look different, but you have changed
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same

tomorrow (yesterday) was way better!

several times I laughed so hard it was “bahahahahOWOWbahahaOWOWOW!”  when my abs cramped up.

one such moment was at my own expense… I didn’t realize Ratchet didn’t really like doughnuts all that well when I asked her to pull into the krispy kreme.  she was driving so she ordered, two coffees, doughnuts… I asked for six glazed and thought she got something different.  SO, when we transacted and began to drive away I was clutching my box of a half dozen as I said with desperation in my voice:  “WHERE ARE YOURS?”

really, I would have shared but I did think she got something different and the woman had forgotten them.  I would have shared.

if I can just get through today…

tomorrow will be better.  tomorrow will be better.  better make that my mantra. 

tomorrow is a day trip to seattle with ratchel. 

last night after doing yoga at midnight I rolled out of child’s pose into a fetal position and fell asleep on the office carpet.

we’re all outa clever here today.

tomorrow will be better… tomorrow will be better…

I’m feeling a little low…  other people’s sadness mainly.  stress.  I’m fine; I just feel kind of bleeeeeeeah.  tonight we’re going out to the winery to listen to big band music.  I have high hopes for that.  ratchet’s cooking so that should be good too.  the little girls haven’t decided whether they’d rather go or stay.  we’re meeting brookelette and her hub.  I say we, but it may just be me, obviously. 

I had one of those panic moments today of the ‘omigod what if I die destitute and alone’ variety.  I know better but my heart doesn’t.

I’m tired.

I have shit I need to do.  I don’t want to do it.  I let minda down, forgot to take her to the reunion… but she still lurves me.  whew.  the kindness of friends, man, the kindness of friends.

I have a shiny new stapler.  I am totally the guy from office space.

“I could burn down the building…”

mama:  so are you all planning on learning to rinse off your dishes and put them in the dishwasher anytime soon?

dylan:  what’s in it for me?

mama:  oh, well, that I don’t go ’round the bend, have a breakdown, and kill us all.

emma:  sounds good to me!

we saw the white stripes tonight… nummay.  and Sleater_Kinney was incredible.  I mean, white stripes were fabulous, but I knew they would be, kwim?  it was exceptional fun.  words cannot describe, or well, I cannot at 1am come up with the words.  maybe tomorrow.

we were all having so much fun and we ALL have such, I don’t know, presence I guess.  I bumped into a girl in a bikini top and hat and she told me how much she liked my hat and went on to gush about how we looked like the spice girls, “oh, but in a GOOD way!”

ah yes, and there was one of Miss Molly’s many friends who seemed to be hitting on me and asked if he could come sit with us (we were in the beer garden at the time).  we said sure.  about halfway back I turned to the guy and said, “just so you know, I’m not putting out.”  Marcella was choking on laughter, but aghast.  he said well that’s okay, good naturedly, but he never did follow us all the way back.  hey, it may be crass but I figured we passed crass when he tapped my crotch with his beer can.  it seemed like a friendly gesture, and I let it go, but dayum, don’t be gettin’ any ideas.

so I was outside watching the sky and there was this really bright, er, spot, I guess.  it kind of looked like a stoplight, red, green, white, blinking, bright.  then it looked like a greeny white boomerang, then it was red again.  I had a moment, a split second of ‘omigod I don’t want to be abducted.’  then I thought, ‘good god, get a grip.’  it’s not moving.  I got bored and came inside.  what the hell?  is that what a satellite looks like?  whateva.

cross my heart and hope to die
a foiling comb straight through my eye
into my brain
and stir it up
I cannot believe my luck
forget the mess
forget the pain
it looks as though I’ve missed again
the bleach in foils
I’ve overprocessed
it takes both hands to find my ass-ess
??

oddly enough, I’m talking about my mother, not hair. 
holy crap.
I’ve started thinking in beauty school metaphor.