Five oclock and bumper to bumper fumes billow horns bellow.
A pool of silence in the cacophony of rush hour traffic, alone in my car.

Alone is like being a river - it just goes on never ending,
slowly eroding the need for "the one",
desire sinking quietly into the riverbed to lay fallow and mostly unnoticed.

The longer it lasts, the easier it becomes not to make an effort to change it.
No one to answer to, no one to disappoint, self contained, self-alienated, cloistered.

Watching the thunderstorms of other's lives makes me tired sometimes.

actually Sunday

and I'm up way to early!

Errands to run, people to see.

Later gator.

over sensitive

Today I'm being over sensitive - or maybe not. I know I do feel a bit left over and odd woman out. Is it reasonable for me to feel this way? Who knows. That doesn't really matter cause the feelings are still there. What a pathetic fucking creature I am.

just freaking stop.

Stop telling me what I should do. Really. Stop it.

I know what I should do and it's my own damn choice since it's my life to spend.
Yes, that is selfish.
Too fuckin' bad.

Everyone SHOULD just look in their own back yards and keep the fuck out of mine until there's is in some half assed order.

I look after my self moderately well. I have educated myself. I have a successful career. I have a double handful of good friends for which I am eternally grateful and countless chums who were put here for my amusement. And I have a retirement plan.
My parents AND my kids love me.
I have the coolest grandchildren on the planet.
I actually like my son-in-law.
I have a comfoirtable home and I am not in debt up to my ass. knees maybe but there's still lots of room to do some travelling.

Looks pretty good from here.

rat bastard

He is the definition.

after midnite - again...

Well here we are, my multiplicity of voices in my head with several of them trying to get out so that when I do speak I seem to be speaking in tongues and when I try to go to sleep one or the other of them is constantly NATTERING IN MY EAR WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Not working.

So I'm a little crazy today.

I bought a new toilet seat and I can't get the old one off.
I've perused the ever growing pile of laundry in my room but I just bought some new duds so it'll wait another day or two.
I bought a new carpet with the Dao symbol on it for balance and couldn't center it correctly on the older carpet.
I remembered my vitamins and forgot my anti biotic.
I miss donuts and all things sugary and it is doing nothing for the figure.
I want my freaking kitchen done - NOW!!!!
The boys are moving to Victoria so they adopted the hyacinth to me - please don't let me kill it. Several of the plants suicided this winter.
I want to go camping but it's stilltoo cold.
I want a buddy with benefits and no liabilities but I'm too something to dump the poundage that would make that task so much simpler.
I cry at everything for no apparent reason, but I laugh at the same time.
Plans plans plans - procrastinate x 3
And then it's back to the cycle - damn I'm tired

Been awhile

I was sick. Now I'm mostly better. I have whined enough.
Visited with family and had a great visit with dad, plated Dakar, took a short road trip and remortgaged the condo at a damn fine rate. I'm halfway through customizing the pattern for Abigail's wedding dress, I've at least started my taxes, and the nebulous plans for a kitchen seem to becoming a bit more tangible.

Yesterday I even made it to the pub to see my O'Hooligans, catch up on some lovin' from Miss Stacy, sunshine from Mistress Abigail, and hugs all'round Sang Nickless a happy bday at karaoke (it was all of us) - definitely not a solo performance. He had a pussy on his cake.

My desk is mostly caught up.

So why can I see nothing but this knee limping, muffin topped, waddle wagging, vulture-winged, bristly bitchy bitter old bag. Cause I am feeling old - a strange thing for me because I usually feel 8. The last few weeks mostly just sucked and not in a good way. A couple of hot flashes - my - THOSE are fun. The antibiotics I was on required me to eat 4 times a day and I'm sure that in the middle of trying to reduce the muffin top to tartlet size I have put on 10 pounds and nothing fits right now.

My favorite bra had a blowout and the wire actually scraped a gash in my side in its mad escape from my blouse, and the lingerie store has no replacements, nothing but horse harnesses = blech!!! It's not like I can go braless and still have a working back and any dignity. I have chocolate (70% cocoa sugar free) stashed in my purse/desk/backpack and I haven't done that in years, and I am sure I've smoked 4 packs of smokes since last Monday when I have been down to about a pack a week for the last 6 months.

But I did manage 6 minutes in the standup yesterday and that was fabulous.

Imagine you can now hear George Carlin's 7 words.

monday and back to work

At least I feel like working, however my hand eye coordination certainly leaves something to be desired this morning. Which sucks because when you're a writer using a keyboard ...

However - I am not behind, my boss seems happy with me, and it's only a 3 days week what with Easter and all, and all. Sorry, but since I read Catcher in the Rye a month ago, that "and all" seems to pop up more regularly than "Eh!" for a Canadian. By the hundred little gods, that book sucked.

Well, enough slacking, done my break and it's back to work y'all. Catch you this weekend.

saturday ...already

My face stiil looks like richard nixon, but the ear pressure went away last nite. 2nd round of even stronger anti biotics. Yay!

I oh so love my life right now.

well...

Music makes me cry this week, and movies, and the occasional commercial. Always bright on the outside, my inside worlds are colliding, and the destruction is starting to spread. Regret weighs me down, guilt shrivels my desire to talk to people, sweet sleep is a surcease to pain long buried and newly resurrected, if only I could grasp it more than a couple of hours at a time.

Plans made and tossed aside for what seemed like good reasons at the time and now seem to be flimsy rationalizations. Wasted resources, relationships, and opportunities gibber their derision behind my eyes, rubbing my nose in my own misjudgements.

It's so quiet that I can hear all the voices chittering at me at the same time, a cacophonous dirge of drivel I can do nothing about. I thought I was past this.

sociopaths

According to the crackbook quiz I am one. hmmmmmm. Sounds like my shrink when I was 14, but he said it was all my mom's fault. She's dead now so does that mean I have to take responsibility for my own shit, or can I pass the blame on to someone else? I wonder if I have his name - the shrink's I mean - nah he's probably dead too. Maybe it was just a phase and I've grown out of it. Then again maybe not.

metallic mineral particles clinging to horsehair

the great search

Should any deny they are searchers they shall be telling an untruth and be deluding themselves or else they be dead.

As a child we search for stability comfort and inclusion.
In the teenager awakens a thirst for a larger understanding of their place in the pattern.
Often as not in adulthood, we give up on the mystical, and through the application of skepticism think we have become cynics or even atheists.
I beg to differ on the grounds of the "great other", that indefinable something that we all know as just out of reach or around the next corner. What about those questions that everyone I know who has been close to death were still asking, "Why was I here? What was the point? What happens now? Did my life really matter?"

The search has infinite paths, and though we may successfully conclude many of them throughout a lifetime, there is always another looming on the horizon of your unconsciousness. The search defines who we are.

I am searching for freedom, love, and a surcease from pain/desire, yet I continually take steps that extenuate both states.

What are you searching for?

ya- fuckin - hoo!

First day of spring and Mr. Winter is dying another death. Oh welcome RA, wake up Gaia, it's your turn and about bloody time it is. Open the windows! I removed the storms in the porch. I will have bare feet in my mephistos today. It's going up to 2 degrees. Yes, above zero. No socks required.

I need light, and sun, and friendly voices (besides the ones in my head and THEY'VE been cooped up waaay too long) and maybe an apertif on a deck some where. Savia java this aft. Footloose and fancy free for the weekend.

catch up:

My son is 26 today and yet I don't really feel much older than when I had him. More experienced and more physically descrepit, but not really "older". I find that I still want to sing happy birthday and have him blow out the candles, but now instead of black forest cake from Safeway, he wants home made not from the box black forest cake with real kirsch and cherries. Not happening, not this week.

Mama got a little carried away and thristday became thirstweekend and then some ;) I got the date for Mikey's buyout wrong, but I was already at the pub and the crew were there, and I didn't have to work the next day, so all of these lovely little rationalizations were just sitting on the shelf waiting for me to dust them off, which I did. Got home quite late, made Deb laugh and then thrust my drunken but ever so happy personage into Deb's room to harass my friend Peter whom had just gotten back from Cuba. Apparently I was in fine form.

I had convinced myself Friday morning that I was not going to grace the pub with my presence that evening, and then I started feeling guilty because I'd missed the last few outings with that crew - I am a member of several disparate groups of friends with different interests - and I had promised Mikey I'd be there, so I got my running around done early and decided to go for just a few.

HAHAHAHAHA! I am the empress of self delusion I tell you. A few my ass. On a Fraturday, with 3 groups of my friends at the pub and the fivers just jumping out of my pocket. I was rollin' and then Niall finished any chance at all of me getting home early by introducing this dark and delicious new brew, Cobblestone, which is - may the brewer's above strike me down if it isn't so - better in the short run than Guinness. In fact it is very much like Guinness but it has an aroma that you can just sit and absorb for minutes at a time, until it draws your lips to the edge of the glass for another swallow. Dark dekicious stout with a hint of coffee, or chocolatey something ... damn but it's good. Suffice to say I had several.

Saturday was ladies night so it was fun in the kitchen with dk & Deb while we prepared the feast for the ladies. Just shy of a dozen of us filled my place with love, laughter, and the sarcasm that only erupts when it is a testosterone free zone. We are hilarious.

I took Sunday off. Even the goddess needs to rest ... and do laundry.

Monday was brother Ryan's bday, with libations for all, and Tuesday was St. Paddy's - the annual come as you crawl event at an Irish pub. While I didn't get there until 3:30 (some of my friends were there before noon and had I not been working I would have been too) Katie still had some Guinness Chocolate cake with Bailey's icing left, and we didn't get locked out while we were smoking until after 7 (but Robert let us in through the kitchen). THere were so many of my friends there that it was like Romper Room through the bottom of a Guinness Glass. Ahhhh - spring is in the air and everybody wanted to play. And the Dman was playing and Mr. Bighead was welcomed with open arms and by then a few empty minds!!! We danced and laughed and sand and cheers each other hoarse.

It was fucking glorious!

hmmmmmmm

An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind. - Buddha

thirstday

If you ask any of the O'Hanligans or random member of the O'Hanlon's Ladies Auxiliary (OLA) they will tell you that my favorite beer is the Guinness, and they would not be lying at all at all. I am sure that I could stop by the pub and drink them everyday for their grainy goodness... mmmm. Cool and dark, a heady brisqueness rises from the glass calling me ...

And I have not replenished my supply, with the exception of two lonely pints last Saturday, in well over two weeks. Understand that though I am no longer the liquor pig I once was the skills are simply simmering under the surface awaiting the Chance to escape. At the end of last decadance (spring summer fall - when the deck is available) I had decided that neither my health nor my vacation fund (HAHAHAHAHAHA) would be getting any better anytime soon unless I took a bit of a break from bar attending. So I instituted the once a week thristday, with the occasional exception for birthdays and other special occasions like Team Mensa Scrabble, OLA Karaoke, or one of the ladies had a really bad day. And it has worked. The weight is slowly decreasing, very very slowly (trying to motivate oneself when one cannot stand looking at the loser in the mirror is a feat not yet accomplished)and I have a squeak away from 2K in my vacation fund with 9 months left to save.

BUT I now have 2 thirstdays saved up and I believe I will blow them today.

I feel the fraturday buzz beginning in my toes and soon to be tasting genius is drawing me further and further away from the work I should be doing.

You know how so many people say they're at the bar for the company. BULLSHIT!

Sometimes we're at the bar for the Beer & the company, sometimes we're at the bar for BEER & COMPANY, but mostly it's for the beer. You could have company at home.

full moon fallout

The crazies did not inundate my mailbox. A few grumpy curmudgeons and a couple of whiners, with two cudos tossed in for leavening. Not bad for hump day and strangely normal for the lunar peak - maybe it's the evening primrose oil I've been taking the last few days. Who knows.

However ...

-35C this morning MEH!!! when it was to be warmer than -20C .... heavy sigh

for fuck sakes

Theyu said it was going to be -27C this am. I psyched myself up ... I thought I was ready for it.

At 7 this morning it was -fucking 32 degrees celcius and - 45C with the wind chill.

I was NOT ready for that.

On the flip side it's warmed up to a balmy -25C this afternoon.


The feather forecasters are a bunch of tasteless cunts.

Last weakness

Sick like a puking toad last week, mother nature's whole body cleanse and attempt to cure my decades long lack of sleep Hot cold sweating shivering sleep can and round and round the mulberry bush. Fever or hot flashes? No - it was fever, the hot flashes came back yesterday - AFTER the fever vacated the premises.

Since Friday - Remy had her baby, Mikey got a new job, Mur is lookin' for one and the Sherriff's dad passed.

At least I'm not sick today - though I am freakin' exhausted and I just typed all day - what a loser.

and I miss my mom.