Tuesday, September 29, 2009

I dunno about this......

I have not been having a good go of it lately. After falling off my shoes then shitting my pants, I developed the most remarkable urinary tract infection. In the meantime, I decided to get involved with a polygamist. I don't think this is going to work for me. The idea of having another woman around to clean is appealing (I have long said I would like to have my own wife) I think that I just may be too much of an attention whore to find satisfaction in this dynamic. I have seen him only once in the last two weeks (which isn't entirely his fault as I did have fire in the hole and a trip to Mexico during this time period.) I am not experimenting with different lifestyles to find myself even more alone and isolated which seems to be what is occurring now. Plus, he sucks in bed. He is a humper and a prolific one at that. All signs point to experiment fail. We haven't delved very deep into this relationship and I find myself already feeling sad, neglected and alone. I also have a lot of time to fill.....apparantly I spend a good deal of time dating, chatting with boys or fishing for more of them. I'm bored as shit with nothing to back fill these dating activities. Tonight PolyGuy is coming over. Not quite sure what is worse, a doll collector that is honest about his intentions or a guy that cloaks the same activities in concern, love and promises of "forever." I will let you know Posse.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

double ended volcano

Friday night, I twisted my ankle wearing rediculously high heels while out with my gays in WeHo. I was fine until Saturday morning when I found myself in the emergency room being X-rayed, splinted and shot in the ass with morphene. As the doc approached me with the needle I said, "Isn't that a little extreme shooting me with (shot) mooorreephene...helloooooo lover. Where ya been all my life?" I spent the rest of the weekend popping pain pills, in and out of conciousness. It is a drug fuled blurr to be honest. Monday, I overslept for my company con call, fell asleep while on it and then slept a good portion of the day on the clock. I do not fare well with pain meds as Monday afternoon I started throwing up. The problem for me is there is no lead time. No tell-tale mouth watering, sweaty brow, churning stomach....you are just there and the next thing you know you are spewing the Niagra Falls of vomit onto whatever happens to be in your path. This continued on until Tuesday when I mustered the nerve to leave my place. I did some work related errand. I was out at the UPS store when something really unexpected happened. I shit my pants. Same as the barfing. No warning. No burning. I ran out of the UPS store hoping nobody noticed and came home. No more incidents last night, phew. This morning I got up and took the dogs out. Shit my pants, more accurately shorts. Thank God I was wearing a long sweater or that would have been even more embarassing. I white knuckled it through the day as I had to take the train down to Orange County and sit in long meetings not knowing if my body would continue to rebel on me. MILFie and I were talking today and I expressed my fear. She said, "I hope your brought double of everything! And also some Pleasure Wipes would come in handy!" I limped through the day on my crutches fearful that every grumble and groan in my belly would lead to professional doom. You can imagine my relief when I got back on the train home without incident. I texted MILFie, "I didn't shit my pants today!! I rolled the dice and ate some cheese. LITERALLY a crapshoot!" yay! It dawned on me that I am either WAYYYYY too old or WAYYYY to young to be worrying about such things. At this stage of my life, I shouldn't give a shit.

Saturday, September 05, 2009

One is silver and the other's gold....

Who knew the Girl Scouts would still be relevant for this old bag? The song about making new friends and keeping the old is still quite apt. OriginalKat is genuINE, certified 14K gold friendness. We have been friends since grade school with a brief (9 or 10 year??) lapse in conversation. Humiliating gym uniforms and spin the bottle at Elm Place middle school. Deep psychic pubescent wounds that will never heal (thank you DM!) Getting high together at HPHS, travelled the world singing with the choir, forged our way into the world after college (me living on her sofa pretty much for a year afterward,) we were bridesmaids for one another. Great friends just have a short-hand. Years melt...she is uber mom to three beautiful boys. I was somewhat pissed that the older one didn't recognize me, he has met me...(running around in diapers at 1 1/2...but still!) The Husband is still that great amazing catch she recognized 14 years ago this Wednesday (bridesmaid and florist for her wedding. First event ever at the restored Navy Pier and it was just magical!) We spent the evening talking about past experiences, lost friends and current woes. The beautiful thing about it to me is that there is no wall..no representative. We just talked honestly. Two women. Two friends.

The bar across the street from her apartment she so graciously allowed me to squat in after college in Chicago...above the Time Well (remember the rope fire ladder your dad bought you OriginalKat???) was call the Crash Palace (cherry bombs are deadly by the way.) Her fav tshirt is one from there...Elvis shoveling a fork full of pills into his mouth. I had that shirt too and lost it. I need to be more thoughtful with things I care about from my past. Love you OriginalKat!

I found this review of the Crash Palace on the internets....seems appropriate as this is where we spent EVERY Wednesday for years;

"The Crash Palace is dark. The people wear black. The music is hip. The music is loud. The drinks are cheap. The men's restroom is dirty. The Psychotronic Film Society presents B movies here once a week. There is no one here on weekdays until late. There is no cover any day of the week. There are images of Jesus on the red walls. You'll probably either really like this place or dislike it intensely."

– Sweet Home Chicago – The Real City Guide (1993)

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

I will school you boyz!


It is Wednesday and I have been up since 5AM. I have over 200 miles to drive and five account calls ahead of me today. Tomorrow will be much the same.

It has been a quiet week, Freakishly Tall Guy is at Burningman. SurfGirl just dumped her famous movie star boyfriend and he was also desert bound. I don't get it. From what I gather, it is a drug and sex party attended by 220,000 people all coming together to be individuals. Hey, I did something similar when I was in my 2os...it was called the Grateful Dead. At least we had some shitty music to bind us together. Some guy I was talking to told me that he had thought the same thing about Burningman until he went, "It is a cultural happening. A celebration!" When pressed about what the cohesive theme to this event was he said, "It is like Mardi Gras and Carnival rolled into one!" Yup, drug and sex party like I said. SurfGirl and I pinkie truced that if we ever dated a man that aspired to go to Burningman that was an immediate termination. Irresponsible and juvenile. I suspect after a few days in the desert with free love and no showers, Pleasure Wipes are looking pretty darn good.

Went back to the Internet fishing hole to work on my pipeline. Have a couple of tunas on the hook. Have not heard from SoonToBeFameousGuy. Have a date with LaundryMan Friday. It was a bit of an awkward conversation with him last night. Last time we chatted, I told him he needed to work on his kissing (there MAY have been alcohol involved.) Last night he told me he had hired a hooker to work on his skillz with...I just played dumb and pretended not to know what he was talking about. Oopsie! Reason ten thousand and one on why not to drink and chat. In my own defense, he is the worst kisser ever.