Oh Those LIPS

Subject: Angelina Jolie
How We Got There: Let Me Explain

Trix - I hate my boss. Hate her , hate her, hate her!!
Furf - Why so much?
Trix - You know!! You've seen it! Hate her, hate her, hate her!!
Furf - But she's nothing to you.
Trix - Nothing? Ppppffffffffffffffttttttttttttt!! She inserts herself!
Furf - Forget her.
Trix - I want to BITE her!
Furf - Uhhh.
Trix - OK, nix that. No biting. Let's punch.
Trix - Angelina Jolie...I might bite...PBJ...NOT!!
Furf - And, you know, that's what you have to love about Angelina. She'd SO appreciate a good biting!!
Trix - Well, YEAH!!! That's why I picked her!!
Furf - Good pick..........

Which brings up Hump Island. (Which I've referred to twice today...Which means...Blog material!)

So...Hump Island Rules:

• Someone I'd never be able to do in real life
• Someone I'd love to be stranded on a desert island with
• Someone I'd chew my right arm off to be on a desert island with
• Normally, someone of the opposite sex
• Normally, someone of my own stamina and means
• Not normal

Male Celebrity Hump Island:
(In no order whatsoever)
(I should have 10 each...Help me out...)

1. George Clooney
2. Ty Pennington
3. Kevin Costner (sorry -- an oldie but goodie)
4. Freddie Prinz Junior
5. Adam Sandler (cannot explain it..it is a humour thing)

Girl Celebrity Hump Island:

(Celebrity goes without saying....Cannot do normal girls...Too ick. And, again, the celebrity thing would never happen. Hence, all in the brain.):

1. Angelina Jolie (again...lips)
2. Sheryl Crow ( that hair...grab on)
3. Eva Longoria (whew)

Then there's Work Hump Island:

Won't go into it here.

And real life Hump Island:

Wish this existed..............

Oh Mandy - You Came & You Gave Without Taking

Flashback

Vegas.

Girls' 40th bday celebration.

Back corner of the Paris Casino.

Waitress that brought 5 of us 5 rounds of drinks without asking if we wanted refills...And then charged us about $70 bucks.

Cheesey but excellent coverband.

Mandy. Hooked On A Feeling. Tempted. Centerfold. Already There.

Girls up dancing.

Local senior citizens abandoning walkers to get up & dance.

Trix up on stage doing Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes.

And a complementary CD for the birthday girl (also Trix).

Flashforward

In B's car at lunch.

She has burned a copy of Mark O'Toole and has it in.

Trixie dancing, and singing wildly into the hand microphone. (Thumb straight up, pinky straight down, three fingers inbetween curled in.)

B - "People are watching you."
T - "Fuck 'em. That's the idea. I love it."
T - "You should see me at home."
B - "It gets worse than this? How can that be?"
T - "There's lotsa bouncey dancing involved. And, usually, in jammies."
B - "If I felt a little bit better, I think I'd find it really amusing that you are even lowering and changing your voice to try to sound like him."

So check them out. http://www.markotooleshow.biz

Get yourself a copy and SING YOUR LUNGS OUT!!

The Times, They Are A'Changin'...

Not feeling particularly bloggy lately. Most days I have at least one case of "Oh...Gotta blog that!" But none for the last week or so. So this one might feel forced.

Work used to be my outlet. My home base. Where the bulk of my friends were. And where I looked forward to heading 5 days a week. No more....

Met ex-boss for lunch the other day. Remembered how much insight this guy has. And how he somehow just 'gets' me. And knows how to motivate me. And push just hard enough but not too hard. And how he keeps on nudging to knock me out of my comfy spot that isn't necessarily good for me.

Met friend K for dinner & drinks & she talked about maybe coming back. Couldn't even bring myself to possibly encourage her...And told her as much. But had fun chatting about wedding plans, and boys, and family, and whatever else we chat about.

Talked to friend C today who is a whole ocean away. The ache in my heart was enormous. To not be able to see her face or smack her in the back of the head just kills me. Another one who knows just what to say and how to say it. Pushes me to 'take down your self imposed fences'. Cheers me on on the positive things. And sympathizes with the not so positive.

Course, Pattygal goes without saying. We admitted to each other a few days back that we are pure soulmates. And neither really said anything about what a big admission that was. It was almost like telling a partner you love them for the first time. But she is and we are. Our heads are almost one. If I had to pick one person to just sit and talk to for a week straight...It'd be her. But alas - She's 800 miles away and in a bad market for standby flying. (A perk I still enjoy.)

I fear friends B and L are on their way out next. Or me on mine. One way or another, it is all changing. I used to think of myself as a 'change agent'...Me thinks in this situation....Not so much.

AviaPhobia

No -- It really has nothing to do with "The Birds", or Alfred Hitchcock, or Suzanne Pleshette. At least, I don't remember it that way. The memory is really very odd...

I'm about 4...In my room with the pine floors in Chillocothe, MO. Middle of the night...And all I know is there is a small wren/sparrow type bird sitting on the inside of my windowsill. And it FREAKED ME OUT. Fliiiiiiiiiippped. Yelled and yelled and yelled for dad to come take it away. Of course, dad slept...And Mom came to save the day. And I made her pick up the non-existent bird and take it to the trash can and throw it away. Gone. For good. But I was sure as shit that bird was real.

Fast forward about....5 more years? Best friends grandpa likes to take mercy on little godforsaken animals. So bunnies with no homes...Chicks with no nest...Freakin blue jay with no nest. Which he proceeds to perch on my FINGER. The beginnings of YUCK. That damn thing is a LIZARD. Those feet are awful!!! DISGUSTING.

So ya see my hysteria? ( Maybe...sorta??)...I haaaaaaaaate birds. Hate. Despise. Want them dead. Can barely walk around Little Five Points with those freakin pigeons flying around. BLECH!!!!!!!!

Have I told you the Chicago story? Where we were milling about beneath the El? And happened upon a bunch of pigeons....And the El ran overhead....And they all FLEW..Straight AT ME?!?!? And all I could do was run...Full On....Into the plate glass window? With people laughing at me hysterically with my spittle on the window?...Yeah..Funny...Not...

Whew...Sorry...I got away from myself a moment there. Hooooooooorrid. Horrid Horrid Horrid. HORRID. They are not right. I do not wish death upon them..well..Ok - I do. The world would be a better place without them...Please....Agents of Satan. I swear.

At my office during certain parts of the year at just a certain point in the day when the sun is going down, these robins just hurl themselves into the windows. And it doesn't sound like a robin...But more like a buzzard or a bald eagle. I swear one day, one is going to come right through the window. And, yeah, it has been confirmed (I've seen) that there are some little birdy carcasses strewn about the next day. As each one hits, my brain just feels a little calmer...One more bad thing eliminated from the world.

Sorry - They disgust me and really (irrationally) scare me. They can all die...If not a single feathered friend remains? I'm okay. They are fucking rats with wings and horrible lizard feet and beaks that could peck your jugular out. As simple as that.

Nikelodean

Today is a sappy entry...So if you're in for witty....Move on.

You've met my mom & my bro so far....Now time for my sis. I'll do one on my dad sometime...Although I don't have a ton of memories.

But Sis. She's 7 years younger and definitely usurped my whole 'baby of the family' title. It stung a bit. But the sting was easily overtaken by this new baby toy I call Sister.

She was the best toy I could have ever been given. I was amazed by her. I would just stand by her bed and gaze at her. I can remember putting my ear to her tiny baby chest to listen to her breathe. I was 7 and wanted to change her diaper. I used to touch her eyelids to feel her eyes move beneath them. I was just in awe.

To this day, she still awes me. She is my mother incarnate. She has no temper. Nothing phases her. Nothing riles her. There are no huge ups...No huge downs. Life just goes on and she smiles and watches it.

The bitch is my exact same height...But when we stand back to back...Her ass lands right in the small of my back - Meaning she has legs til next year...While I have stumps. And up til the last few years she's always weighed significantly less than me. (Weight loss on my part and baby weight on her part have just about evened us out...I'd say she still probably wins. Bitch.) And she is petite. Isty bitsy. Her hands are an entire knuckle shorter than mine & almost kid sized.

She was recently on bedrest for 6 months while pregnant with niece number two. I think I saw her get cranky once. It was a bit shocking....Hadn't witnessed emotions like those from her. Thank God they exist. She might be human.

Best part about me & sis is - We DEFINE silly. We can out-silly anyone I know in the silly category. Take it from me...I am NOT a touchy-feely person. But I cannot keep my hands off her. We have this thing...Where we grab each other by the face, touch noses and say "Eeew!". We just do...Can't explain...But it embarrasses the hell out of my mother. Once, in the middle of the Biltmore in Ashville, NC...We had a 'grab face, touch nose, Ew moment'....We just did. And this man looked at us like we had 13 heads collectively. Mom gave us a "You guys!!! What are you DOING?" Us - "Uh, mom....We look almost like twins. He's gotta know we're not lesbians." I mean...Who else BUT your sister can you do a 'grab face, touch nose, Ew moment' in the middle of the Biltmore with, fer Mike's sake?!?!?

You've figured out I am a mush ball about my family....But she is just aaaaawwwesome. She's a teacher...Which I tried for a bit...But just couldn't quite get it. Then she tells me about this exercise she did with her kids...Learning about the Mayflower. Looked up all the dimensions of the Mayflower (shockingly small) on the internet and took the kids out on the playground. Had them draw out the exact dimensions...And then all get inside there. To show them how really dinky and squished that trip across the ocean was. "Uhhhhhh - N? How did you come up with that??" "Don't know...Just did."

Wow....She's just WOW. One big, huge, gigantic WOW. Like - You can't look at her and think God doesn't exist. Some great power had something to do with making her. JUST WOW - And has been from the moment I layed eyes on her 33 years ago.

Body Art

Yes - I have some. And, no, I cannot explain the allure to you.

I have four piercings...3 of which you can see. Of course the first two were the obligatory ears at around 13. No big deal...Your usual needle gun, healing time, twisting the studs, healed in no time.

Next was the 2nd left ear piercing. Thought I'd get both done twice, but craaaaaaaaaap....That hurt way worse than I expected...So we'll stick with one.

Maaaaaaany years later came the tummy. I'd lost several pounds and thought I deserved an award. Some how, a needle jammed through my navel and a piece of metal inserted was that reward. It has something to do with the physicality of losing weight. And that I wanted a physical symbol to preserve it. And, I guess, one that would keep me from getting completely fat again. A fat, pierced tummy is not a cute, pierced tummy.

The actual act itself was hell....Worthy of its very own story. And goodness, my friends must have gotten completely sick of this one...Cause it took OVER 18 months to heal. The nursing, the fussing, the babying. First a ring...But we had to change that to a barbell because I am a tummy sleeper which pushed the ring to one side. The Bactine, the salt soaks, the lowrise jeans...OY. But we're healed now with only a small scar remaining...And I have to say - I love it. It is part of me.

So I'm ready for the next. And have been for a while. I'm thinking lower back tattoo and I want it in the shape of an infinity sign. Plain, simple black. No fancy squiggles or colors. Maybe it is a symbol of youth and life going on forever.

Look at me and I am the complete stereotype of a corporate worker. Vanilla. Nothing different.

So maybe that is the allure. Just a little secret to myself (and those who, perchance, may see me naked....exposed) that I really am me....And different...And unique. Or so I tell myself......

Aye! That Thing At Work.......

...I dunno...I cannot decide...

http://money.cnn.com/2003/12/01/news/companies/boeing_condit/

Wrong? Right? Black? White? Dunno................

Cause ya know...I've been on every side. (Well, almost...Hang with me here...) I've been the one saying "No, No, No...We can't...We want to..but we can't." I've been the one saying, "Well, here we are...Yeah...We are...We are..." I've been the one saying, "Yeah..We both wanna..But we won't...So we won't...So we won't..." And I've been the one saying "Uhhh...Noooooo...Don't wanna......". And I've been the one saying "NO! Go Away!" So..Do I get it...I think, yeah...

So...Where does that leave me? Not sure...Not sure at all. In some grey area Harry experienced? Probably.

BUT -- What is different about Harry & me??

Am I a BAzilliondollaranairre and with a CEO's title??? Yeah, I think not... And I think that might be it. So...Democrat/liberal as I am...HERE is where I draw the line. Sorry, Harry...You chose it. (Uh huh, uh huh.) Just like Brad Pitt & Jennifer A...You threw away idyllic wedding plans...Yours became the masses. Sorry..But JLo's Ass became Our Ass.

To me that is the deal. You gave up your life to be CEO...You gave up your affairs of the heart and all other human things. People meant nothing to you. Gross, Harry...gross.

Me, on the other hand? I'm still completely a peon. I can maim, cheat, steal, whore, lie, and carnage...But I don't....Cause I don't............And I won't...............

A Few Connections With Rush Limbaugh

Given my bleeding heart liberal left wing tendencies, whooda thunk there'd be even one?.....Let alone a few?!

But here we go:

• Born & bred in the same home state. Albiet on different sides of the state.
• Both raised Methodist.
• Grew up listening to him doing color for local baseball. I only vaguely remember the voice.
• If he actually knew me, we wouldn't be able to stand each other.
• Vicodin.

OK - So he was addicted and I've just started on the stuff. Still with the ear (Read below. Sorry to bore you. It's hard not to think about.)...Vicodin is supposed to make the feeling of ice picks being jammed in each subside. First thought was "WooHoo - Something fun out of all this hell." And yeah, it works.

Hour One - Ooooh...My head tingles. And now my shoulders. Now, I'm ALL tingly. Likey.

Hour Two - Wow...This conference call I dreaded is actually kinda fun. I am FLYING. I'm taking it again next week at this exact same time.

Hour Two.Five - Whoooaaa.....Having trouble making words. Having trouble hearing words. Having trouble.

Hour Three - Bed...Where's the bed...Gotta have the bed.

Hours Three thru Five.Five - Flat out cold on the back didn't move once in the bed.

Hour Six - (Arm groggily swiping face.) So that was fun for a minute....But how the hell did Rush do this 24x7???