9:00 AM - Ladies Underpants!
Category: Fashion, Style, Shopping

"Hey Bigd" I called her at about ten pm.

"Hey." she sounded distracted.

"What should I blog about?" I was afraid I was hitting another writer's block.

"I don't know." it was her usual response.

"What are you watching?" I could hear a program in the background behind her raucous laughter.

"there's this guy bothering Bikini Baristas," she was sputtering and guffawing about it.

"What/" I wondered what the heck a barista was.. Something to do with coffee.

"……..he came through the drive-thru wearing ladies underpants."

What!?" I could tell this might be really funny and I better figure out what she was talking about fast or the punch line would be lost on me.

"They threw boiling water on him."

"Why? What!?" I was starting to think I might have to go turn the tv on to get any answers.

"because he kept coming back."

"Wait. I don't get it. Bikini ladies? Where are they in the bikinis?"

"There's a couple places, I know one's in Salem, where it's a little coffee drive-thru shack and they serve the coffee in bikinis"

"Oh. Yuck."

"Yeah."  "So this guy kept driving thru wearing ladies underpants."

"They threw boiling water on him?"

"Yeah."

"That's awful"

He kept coming back! And they tried to get his license plate but they couldn't because it had ladies underpants on it."

"Ahahahahahahhahahahaha!" this was important news and highly humorous. "So now it's on the news? We're supposed to keep an eye out for a man in ladies underpants? And we'll know it's him because he'll have ladies underpants on his license plates?" I was on a roll now laughing and talking fast. "I can totally see us being annoyed that they're serving coffee in their bikinis and sending The Man up there in ladies  underpants. And we'd say 'what about the license plates? Oh! Just cover them in more ladies underpants!"

"Ahahahahahahahahah!" she  laughed

"How did he pay for his coffee?" I continued loudly "with ladies underpants! Soon the news will have an update: crazy ladies underpants man has been spotted at a local bar… they tried to card him but his ID was wrapped………………… in ladies underpants!"

"Dew(ed) stop saying ladies underpants!"

"I can't it's too funny."

"Well. There's your blog."

"Do you think it's funny to anyone else?"

"Yes it's funny. It's ladies underpants."

"You're right."

"Post it for sbt."

"YES! It's perfect, very dark indeed." I agreed.




Lucky you guys, I googled and it gets better! I copied and pasted this from here


"Wash. -- A man dressed in woman's underwear and exposing himself drove up to a Parkland espresso stand three times before one of the baristas threw a cup of boiling water at him, said the Pierce County Sheriff's Office.

Jamae Feddock, a bikini clad barista at Java Girls, said she first thought the man dressed in women's underwear and exposing himself was a sick joke, until the man came back several times.The first time he came to the window Feddock said he was wearing a white bra and white panties and touching himself inappropriately.

Then he came back a second time.

"He has underwear over his face, he's wearing hot pink panties now and the underwear that he was wearing is over his face and there's a little peephole so he can see," Feddock said.

Feddock and another barista were working around 5 a.m. last Thursday when the incident happened. They tried to get a look at the man's license plate, but that too was covered up with women's underwear.

When the man came back a third time one of the baristas took a cup of scolding hot water and doused him with it.

"Kylie opened the door and threw boiling hot water on his face and his chest and he said oooh yeah," Feddock said.

Police agencies around Pierce County said they are seeing more and more incidents of indecent exposure -- as more coffee stands open -- many with women dressed provocatively -- or barely dressed at all.

"I don't think we can make a quid pro quo there that this is causing the effect, and they certainly don't deserve that behavior, but we do have some of these stands that have been victimized by these activities," said Det. Sgt. Jerry Bates a Pierce County Sheriff's Deputy.

Anyone with information should call the Pierce County Sheriff's Office."

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9:02 AM - Just Don’t Stop At The Top
Category: Life

I can ride any amusement park death trap. Really! From the ground I even LOVE to. It matters not who's running it; a pimply teenager, or a toothless, grizzly old woman. They can spin me, they can jerk me up and down and around again, even take me completely upside down in a series of loopittyloops. Standing up, sitting down, feet dangling, I will take almost anything. I will handle it.

Just as long as they don't stop at the top.

There's isn't anything more terrifying to me than the creaking of metal on metal when a Ferris wheel stops at the top of the world and your companion delightedly kicks their feet, pointing out the sights in the distance. Nothing more terrifying for me, anyway. For the person seated next to me, thinking they're on a child friendly pleasure ride, I'm the most terrifying thing in the world.

I'll sit there, cranky, in a cold sweat, paranoid, and alternating between frozen, white lipped silence and involuntary rocking or twitching or trembling of one kind or another. I will grip whatever sort of oh shit bar is provided as if I am single-handedly saving us from falling. Of course while I say cranky they might describe it more as demon inspired fury. Not at first but after I hiss "Don't fucking move!" they'll be hoping they remembered to bring along holy water for sure.

I have to move through fear. I can't sit still waiting. I'm impatient and lash out at anyone not taking my fear seriously. I need to do things, to improve the situation, to feel I'm directing my own fate in some way, or if nothing else, to distract myself.

On one of our early dates The Man took me to the Rose Festival. It was yet another case of miss-aligned expectations between us. Over the phone I had admitted I "wasn't much of a ride person" but "enjoyed amusement parks anyway". He agreed, said he felt the same way. Turned out he meant he only rides two or three of the biggest scariest rides and I meant I can eat six bags of cotton candy in thirty seconds. We had to compromise, and chose an umbrella version of a Ferris Wheel first thing. I'm a big fan of mind over matter, I spent most of our wait time, in the line, psyching myself up for it. This technique isn't for amateurs, I've fine-tuned my ability to maintain under extreme conditions since childhood. You're going to need denial, false bravado, and possibly a spare change of underwear.

As usual I was fine right up until we got to the top. My version of fine is me with my head down looking at my feet not moving a muscle, completely absorbed in internally convincing myself I'm not about to die. Or if I am about to plummet there's some chance I might be able to grab a bar or something if I pay attention closely enough. It's extremely absorbing, to pay attention so closely. Ears fine-tuned for any hint of a loose screw, eyes darting between anything solid and right next to me to the carnie with our fate in his greasy hands. Anything anyone says comes to my ears through a thick fog, filtering any information not life or death out.

"Dew(ed)!" his voice was excited "what are you doing? Look up! Are your eyes closed? Look how far you can see!" This got in. keeping my eyes nearly shut and not pointed toward the horizon was life or death.

"No. It's cool. I'm fine." he was bending over, trying to see my face "Hey, maybe you could not move so much." I said awkwardly, turning my face away.

"What, like this?" He rocked his body back and forth causing the basket-like contraption we were in to sway almost imperceptibly. It was like elephants were turning over in a waterbed.

"STOP!" my voice was shrill and loud so I quickly lowered it "Don't… don't do that, okay?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm fucking serious!" and we were right back to shrill!

"Okay." he agreed, reluctantly. I sensed he was still considering curing me of my fear by scaring me more.

"Please, Man. Don't move, okay? Just don't move."

"Do you want me to make them let us off?"

"No! I want you to have fun!" I demanded, but of course he couldn't.  

"Can I at least hold your hand?"

"Do you have to?"

"No. But I want to."

"D you want to because you think I want you to or because you want to for you?" I would totally have held his hand if HE needed me to.

"What?"

"Cause I don't want to!" quickly I added "I'm sorta holding on here, Man." I nodded my head toward my hands gripping the seat and he laughed inside, in that way he has.

"It's almost done." he assured me, his arms were thrown wide and he had his head thrown back in relaxation. I gave up my statue pose again to give him a brief nod.

Finally we stepped off the ride onto solid ground. I quickly pulled out a pack of cigarettes and hot boxed the lucky red in about thirty seconds. "So. What next?" I asked him, grinning, though my forehead takes a long time to chill out.

"Are you kidding?"

"No. I know you want to go on something else." I inhaled and exhaled while he stared at me, amazed. "So, what's it gonna be?"

"You're nuts." he shook his head at me. "Why would you do that if you're so scared of rides?"

"I'm not scared of rides!" I stomped my foot in mock anger. "What if I getcha a hot, brave ride partner?" he laughed out loud.

"You think I'm joking? It's easy. Let's go."

See, that? That's a pro-move, getting an understudy to carry on for you. We were already streaming in with the crowd and I had to shout at his back "Hey, Man! First we need cotton candy!"

"What, as bait?" he joked

"Oh. I guess so. But I'm not really going to share it." I sighed, knowing I would share it. "We should get the giant bag"

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1:51 PM - BONUS BLOG: Have a look in my box! (updated)
Category: Blogging

Oh faithful readers today is a special day. Today I join the ranks of bloggers such as Buddha Mama and Salacious Bee (and many more, I'm sure) in receiving hysterical messages from random strangers. *wipes tear* It's like I've finally made it. So, as those in the past have done before, I will do now: post the ridiculous solicitation for all of our enjoyment.


From the depths of Dew(ed)'s box:

*************************************************************
From: Tiny    

Date: Aug 18, 2008 12:26 PM

Subject: No Subject

Body: Are you up for something wild and crazy

*************************************************************

To: Tiny

Date: Aug 18, 2008 12:39 PM

Subject: RE: No Subject

Body: lol - You have my attention.

*************************************************************

From: Tiny

Date: Aug 18, 2008 12:44 PM

Subject: No Subject

Body: 

This is the deal. Im 31 a good looking guy. My wife is in prison and things are a     little absent. So Im looking ffor someone that wants to get into something wild     and quiet just for fun. if you want to get into something that would be interesting     and no commitments let me know.

*************************************************************

To: Tiny

Date: Aug 18, 2008 12:48 PM

Subject: RE: No Subject

Body:    

ahahahahahahahahahahhaahah!

oh man. and you're probably serious too.

get out. does this work for you? how often? When you saw my avatar did you     check out my profile, looking to see if I might be up for that? Is it the swinger     thing?


holy bajeezus you're a hoot.

and ummm no I'm not up for anything like that.

*sprays you down with windex*

run along now best of luck

*************************************************************
*** I changed his name. but not much. seriously.

UPDATED:

Tiny:

Why would I say it if I wasnt serious. LOL Does that mean that you are contemplating the situation.LOL I would work. Im not talking about all the time just whan its convient for both involved.


Dew:

oh I know you're serious about doing it lol I mean I can't believe you're soliciting random strangers on the internet to be your booty call. And using the old "my wifes in jail" line to boot. ahahaha seriously funny shit.


and no. not even close to contemplating it.


Tiny:

She reall is thats the truth. but I hope your bloggers get a laugh. I have no reason to lie. But at least you are entertained.

Dew:

yeah. it's a good thing I'm entertained. some people might be pissed off and insulted to be approached this way. And yes the bloggers will get a laugh. You're lucky I changed your name and didn't link to ya.

of course, you're welcome to reveal yourself on my blog if you like.

Tiny:

Well that was nice. And if I did insult you that wasnt my intentions. I was serious. I dont want any strings Im just a little horney its been awhile almost a year. And a stranger seems like the best way to keep it quiet. So if you were insulted my appoligies to you.

Dew:

dude I just told ya I'm not insulted, I don't take it personally that you're freakin' crazy.

Tiny:

Is that how you seriously take it that Im crazy. LOL Well now I know something about me that I didnt. Hell i was thinking a little different. LOL at least youi made me laugh.
Im really not that weird. I swear. I thought this might be a good place to keep something quiet now you have shown me the errors in my ways. Maybe Its best I just wait now. Im accually a reall cool guy and way down to earth. But thats besides the point. whats your name anyways? I have never been shamed like this and I think its funny but fucked up also.

Dew:

My name's Dew(ed)

I'm glad you've decided not to sleep with random strangers from the internet good for you! I'm like a super hero!

and seriously if it saves another chick from opening a message like that I deserve a medal.

get some lube. You'll be fine.

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9:06 AM - Untitled part eleven
Category: Life

Lying flat on my back I stared at the ceiling. His body rested between my legs, his head hovering over my naval. There seemed to be a slight bump down low now, below the place my body hollowed out when I was on my back. I thought it might be my imagination, and tried to picture the life growing in there. With my eyes closed I always saw a universe bursting out, expanding and contracting with every pulse of my heart.

 He was kissing my stomach, telling me the way everything could be, how beautiful this child would be - a combination of the two of us. "We could be so happy, Dew(ed). We'll get a house, have a couple kids. I know you're scared. I can do this. I've done it before." His mouth moved lower and if he knew I was crying, hot tears that burned all the way to my ears he chose not to acknowledge them, wanting to celebrate the life created between us. It isn't as though I couldn't have said no. It's more that it would have required more effort than simply flipping him over and finishing him off so he could pass out.

A fog had lifted, it was replaced by a strange new sensation, probably equally as slanted. All his lies, the drug use, the anger management issues, seemed ridiculous. He wasn't an adult with an interesting history who was now in recovery. He was a thirty-one year old convict drug addict with three kids he didn't take care of. It's one thing to sleep around with crazy people, it's another to raise babies with them. Especially a baby I wasn't  even ready to have myself, didn't even know if I WOULD have. I made plans to move out, asking Crispy and Amigo for boxes and slowly transferring most of my stuff to my Mom's. Then I just gathered up the rest one afternoon and moved out.

Communication between us was scattered and rare. He was staying with a friend but rarely actually there. I heard bits and pieces through Amigo who actually spoke to him more often. First that he was spending most of his time at Tweakers, then contact ceased for a few weeks. Next I heard he was in jail for parole violations, they picked him up at Tweakers after a brief struggle. Then he was waiting for sentencing. Never had the entire story but near as I ever picked out from second hand stories and  reading the records at the courthouse he stole a car and was stopped at the border to Canada with a joint in the glove box.  

He found ways to contact me anyway. A steady stream of "love" letters from jail began to arrive. Then the three-way phone calls. Amigo would call and tell me he was on the line.  He would scream at me that I better not even be considering abortion, that he would raise the baby himself if he had to, I would end up bawling and hang up on him.

I spent long days in my moms tiny apartment trying to sort out where I ended and this other life began.

The life I had before.

The life I had right then.

The life I had growing in me.

The life I had wanted for my future.

The life I couldn't give my baby.

There were long bus rides to government offices getting health care coverage, to clinics with blood stained floors with my feet in stirrups facing the awkward shame of getting the early check-ups from doctors who had seen enough to make their judgment and too much to feel anything anymore, and the dark day I scheduled the abortion.

Lying flat on my back I stared at the ceiling. My legs were wide apart, feet resting in the stir-ups, waiting for the doctor to come in and insert the reeds that would swell, opening my cervix over the next hours and the bump on my lower abdomen was unmistakable to me. "It won't be the life I thought I would give you." I told her. "There won't be a house and there won't be a Dad. And I'm scared." And I knew it didn't matter. I knew there would never be a good time to have her. I knew I was already calling her she. I knew I had no choice. What was before would never be again with or without her. I wasn't going to be the Mom I had hoped to be. Nothing was going to be anything like I had ever dreamed. I knew I could do it anyway.

I was up and off the table, flinging the paper blanket out of my way in a flurry of crinkles. I shoved my already swelling self back in my beat-up levis. I pulled my t-shirt with the silly saying over my softest long john shirt and shrugged my florescent vest on. I ran from the exam room, down past the lobby full of pregnant women with the receptionist yelling after me, I slipped into the elevator and rode all the way down to the lobby with cool tears sliding down my face, just making it to a restroom to puke my guts out. 

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9:00 AM - Untitled part ten
Category: Life

I peed on at least twelve pregnancy tests. The manufacturers sell them in two and three packs, knowing there can be false negatives before the embryo has attached itself to your uterus. I kept right on peeing on the sticks though a false positive is extremely rare. Especially when all you've been doing is fucking the most fertile man on the planet. Still, it could happen so I peed on the kind with the plus sign, the kind with the lines, in the morning for the best pee, later in the day hoping for a better answer. They all said the same thing; "life as you know it is over".  Finally I consulted Amigo.

"So. This is pretty feint, I mean that could just be a fluke, right?" I was holding out the test stick while she recoiled from the idea that my urine was on it. I glared at her for being such a pussy and finally she relented, curious herself. When I called her on the phone, asking her to come over and look at something I said that maybe I was a little late and maybe just maybe I might be a little bit possibly sort of pregnant. She bent over the stick and then looked right back up at me.

"It's totally two lines! I've never even seen such an obvious positive…. Not even when I was pregnant with JarHead!" she was giggling madly at me the way you do when something awful that happened to you finally happens to your friend.

"Yeah but… it's sorta lighter than the comparison line."

"No. No, it's not. That IS the comparison line. Your line is darker. Your line is like nine months along!"

"Shut-up!" we laughed for a minute, nervous hysterical laughter that did little to release the tension.

"What are you going to do?" she asked me, suddenly really seeing how bad the situation was.

"I don't know."

"You have to tell him" I don't know how she knew I was thinking I might not tell him, that I was already regretting telling her. Now it was real, now it had to be dealt with. Dealing was something so far from me.

"I'll tell him when I'm ready."

"You know I can't keep this in. I'll tell him. Can I tell him?"

"No! Why the fuck would you be the one to tell him. I'm probably supposed to have told him first."  We were cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom staring at the shitty apartment style carpet. "I don't really HAVE to tell him"

"Yes you do. It's his too."

"It's in me! And he could just never know. It's almost selfish to tell him if I'm not going to…to do it anyway."

"If you don't tell him, I will." So that's how it was going to be. "What do you think he'll say?"

"I don't know."

"You're having a baby! Can you believe it??"

"I don't know."

"I wanna be here when you tell him"

"I think it's kinda private."

"Just go tell him now, he's out working on Tweaker's car."

"What do you suppose he's doing that for? Out of neighborly kindness?" I stood up. There was no sense in dragging this out. I went out in the parking lot and waited til he came over to me, wiping his hands on an oil rag. "Hey. Whatcha doing?" I asked him, trying to figure out how to break this kind of news.

"Working on a project." he said, a little pissed I was "checking in on him"

"Well. Me too." he tilted his head. "I'm pregnant." he nodded a little.

"We'll talk about it later. I'm busy."

"Okay then." I made my way back in the apartment.

"What did he say????" she asked excitedly.

"He said we'll talk about it later."

"Oh." there was a long pause while all the yippy excitement fizzled out of her. "That's kinda weird."

"Yeah. Well. Everything's been weird for a long time now."

"You've only known him for like three months."

"To be fair, sperm travels at speeds of twenty-eight miles per hour. You know I don't run, so even at a swift walk," she laughed, grateful I was being funny to distract her from the awkwardness. "my poor egg never had a chance."

part eleven

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9:01 AM - Untitled part nine
Category: Life

I could tell you all the reasons I went ahead with the inevitable. I could tell you about my parents alternately calling me with their break-up woes, stretching my compassion out between them. I could tell you that I was lonely, isolated and had no one else in the world. I could tell you I lost my job and The Troll and the Roommate moved out and that there were no one bedroom apartments available in the complex and that while the landlord was compassionate about my situation she was holding me to the lease agreement. I could tell you how worried I was about being homeless again. I could tell you how I wasn't in me anymore, how I was the flaky dried up bits left when a flower dies, a puff of air so easily crumbling me into a fine gray powder. I could tell you I wanted it to be worse. I could tell you nothing happening was yet bad enough to match the way I felt inside, I could tell you I tempted the flames closer, wanting to burn to nothing, to be nothing, to feel nothing if it wasn't You.

I could tell you all that. But usually, when people ask, (and they do ask) what on earth I was thinking to sleep with him I just say: "He rubbed my feet". Because he did. He rubbed my feet and then started up my calves. He said "friends do this", and "Let me make love to you." and he did and he was decent at it. And once I had done it there wasn't any reason not to keep doing it. And then he said "I want to marry you and have babies" and "this is all I've ever wanted" and "I love you" and it seemed that I must be an idiot not to feel it, to be nothing and ungrateful for this gift. But I was. I refused to call him my boyfriend, shoved his hand off my thigh on a bus, and told him to his face that he would never really have me. He laughed and said I would get over it, that I would grow up.

By day reasons for how wrong it all was kept right on popping up. His drinking, the age difference, the messages on the machine from his parole officer, the nights he disappeared next door, bizarre flares of temper that were somehow always my fault, his possessive nature. I continued to push him away denying what everyone around us knew. Then the sun would go down and my body would betray me, unfold under me, rebelling against my heart and common sense. I started to believe him. The world closed in and was only as big as that apartment. The walls were streaked with his opinions, the blinds that had once let in rays of light were shut, the cupboards bare of anything. I shuffled around in a daze, silent and broken.

Meanwhile Crispy and Amigo were still around, but they were "our" friends now. Amigo was always in the middle of any fighting, pestering me, cajoling me, feeding off every bit of drama. She and The Sandwich were very much buddy-buddy, always on the phone, or at the apartment, or begging him to come get her, to entertain her. In a rare bit of honesty she confided she hated being married, thought she was too young to have a family and all the responsibility that came with it. "How can you say that? You mooned over Crispy all through high school he's a great guy, you have a baby together." I asked her and she shrugged, not knowing herself. Crispy was his usual self and brought groceries over to the apartment, mortifying me for all eternity.

Thanksgiving came, my niece was born and Christmas passed with a few awkward family gatherings in my parents separate places. New Years came and I turned twenty. The Sandwich disappeared for a few hours and returned with a basket of items suspiciously pocket-size. I didn't say a word. He was pissed I wasn't saying thank you and gushing over it, saying "it's impossible to give you anything" and the same old fight about how stiff and unemotional I was began again. His behavior was increasingly erratic. The crazier he was the less anything I was, I became the wall he bounced off of, the floor he stomped on, the empty room he needed to come back to. And he hated it. He screamed at me to "be the person he saw flashes of when he met me" but I couldn't find her, or didn't want to, or she was gone.

I remember the night that we made her. I remember realizing he didn't know any more than I did, that his gut wasn't any more fine tuned just because he had experienced more people. Suddenly all the vibes and doubts and thoughts I had had all along became concrete in a way that made me know I was reading him at least as well as he could read me. I met him moment to moment, anticipating his turns and making him wait, making sure I made him come when I wanted him to. Our bodies communed and, I took something back then. I knew I would never escape him. That I had foolishly let myself be chosen again and again would have to give something irreplaceable up in exchange for my escape.


part ten

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9:16 AM - Untitled part eight
Category: Life

He came in the apartment, hanging his coat up in the closet and when he stepped into the living room to find me on the couch he threw his arms to the side in a "tah-dah!" sort of way to make me laugh. And it's true, dorkiness does it for me every time.

"You watchin' tv?" he asked and grinned at me, gesturing to the cardboard box made to look like a tv that Amigo had made when Roommate had moved her television into her bedroom a few weeks prior. "Is The Simpon's still on?" he asked and nodded when he saw the child-like drawing of Homer choking Bart.

I gave him a quit trying to cheer me up face and went back to my journal. "You could talk to me." he tapped the underside of the book  making my sentence jump in the middle. "You hungry? I'll take you across the street to Hoppers for dinner, my treat"

"I'm not twenty-one." I pointed out sourly the day had been crappy and I was all out of nice.

"It's cool. They know me, they won't care."

"No way."

"I'm serious. You won't get in trouble."

"So. I would know."

"Your head really works like that?"

"Like what?"

"Orderly. Straight and narrow. Even with the Roommate. You're just logical about it. No feelings in there?"

"I don't think I get what you're trying to say."

"Wanna go for a walk and get smokes and Dew at the Plaid Panty?"

"Well. I guess so."

We walked up to the corner and found charles at the counter as usual.

"Hi dewww." he said to me, all smiles.

"Hi Charles."

"Where's your partner in crime lately?" he asked, curious.

"Oh I don't know. Can I get a pack of reds with this?"

"Yup. You having hot chocolate tonight?"

"Nope."

"So. When are you going to let me give you that guitar lesson, Dew?"

"Oh I don't know about that. I told ya I've tried, my fingers don't want to do strings." I took my change and wandered out front to wait for him.

"You're not going to let him give you guitar lessons are you?" he asked as soon as we started to walk.

"I don't know." I said. It didn't seem like it was any of his business.

"Well. I know you're not stupid."

"huh?"

"So I can't figure out how you don't seem to know what's going on."

"Well. Ya got me there. I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Is he charging you for a lesson?"

"No. I think he just wants a reason to hang out."

"Right. Hang out."  A silence stretched out between us awkwardly. "Wanna hear something funny?"

"Sure. I guess so." I said, relieved to be distracted from the uncomfortable on edge feeling I always had around him.

"When I was getting my money out I dropped a bud out on the counter. I didn't even know it was in there."

"Are you insane? You carry loose marijuana in your wallet?"  he laughed at my shock.

"So. Wanna smoke it?" he asked. The temptation was enormous. The thought that I might be able to relax, might be able to stop thinking, might be able to let go loomed. I stared at him next to me for awhile, deciding, ending with the thought; What's the worst that could happen? And why shouldn't I be like everyone else and stop thinking about everything so much all the time.

"Sure. If that's the only way to get rid of it, we better." We were in the entry way to the apartment, finishing our cigarettes when my gay meth-head neighbor heard us and came out, eager to chat. We both rolled our eyes and made it clear we were about to go inside. Meth-head said he might come over in awhile, he had something to tell us and we nodded and figured he would forget and end up sweeping the parking lot again.

Shortly later I was high as a kite and lying on the carpet on the living room floor laughing my ass off at some crazy story meth-head was telling. I vaguely remember something about him getting caught dumpster diving and something about gay porn. Then Meth-head bolted, his boyfriend was going to be home from work any minute and would be pissed that he wasn't cleaning his apartment.

He was sitting on the couch smiling at me lying on the floor. "Look at you. You're relaxed." he said. "and you have my favorite thing in the world."

"What's that?" I asked him suspiciously.

"Pistol grip hip bones."

"I've never heard that before." I rolled up until I was sitting and leaned against the wall.

"I don't' believe that."

"I mean I've never heard it called that." I stared at him awhile and decided to just ask him.

"What were you in for?" he didn't pretend not to know what I was asking.

"I robbed a bank."

"You did not."

"Yup."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." He stared at me some more and I pretended to examine the hole in my jeans. "Dew(ed)?"

"Yeah."

"You should go to bed before I put the move on you." I looked up, startled. He was dead serious and I laughed at him.

"So? So what if you do? That doesn't mean anything will happen." I said

"Well. That may be but" he was absurdly confident and I could tell he thought something would happen "I'd rather it didn't happen while you're stoned."

"Then couldn't you just NOT put the move on me? Didn't we say we're just friends?"

"Well. I'm tired."

"Why didn't you just say so?" I tossed him his pillow and blanket. "Good night, Sandwich."

"Good night Dew(ed)"

part nine

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4:06 PM - Take It
Category: Travel and Places

Thoughts from the road…

I love flooring my gas peddle, the sounds and vibrations of the engine are fantastic. That needle goes all the way to 140 or something… but we never get to go that fast! What a tease…

NO! I'm not thinking about you. I know you're wondering if I am, if I was. Well. I'm not. Not at all. This doesn't count. This is ANTI-thinking. And I'm done with that too. Right now.

damn….I wonder if anyone really wants me to keep writing that stupid story when I get back. I think I lost the groove. Why did I even start that? I hate that story. Oh well, I'm sure they've forgotten by now. I bet nobody will even notice if I don't. yeah right. Well. We'll see tonight when the kids are in bed... maybe I can just get back in it.

I do have other things to think about besides you. Thinking about it doesn't help anyway. ……. Nothing can fix it. So thinking about it would be stupid. I wonder what you would think about that. Stooop it! Get out of my head!

BigD better not think she's going to fall asleep. Wake up! I'm already drowsy… why is there a blanket on my lap? Oh. That's the sun.. damn it I'm trapped with the sun on my lap! Must drive faster.

I wonder if The Man's watered anything. Shit. I wonder what's dead. Should have called to remind him. Fuck that! He should just see that it needs watering and do it. He'll say he was "woooorking" like he can only have one task a day. One task! Good gawd if only we could just have one task.

When did I talk to The Man? Yesterday? The day before? Wow. Probably should have called him to say we were coming back today. Oh well. We'll surprise him.

The girls area getting sassy… I wonder if I care. I mean.. I like sassy. Still… they shouldn't be sassing Mama Dew. I'm the boss. *snort* I'm the boss ahahahaha! The boss.

You would totally laugh at that. You laughed at something similar yesterday. Heh. 'Cause it's funny. Anyone would laugh at that. Yeah but it's different. It's not different! Just stop it!

BigD Talk to me! Distract me! And Why is all my music so fucking melancholy? Jeezus it's a wrist slitting soundtrack in here! Hmmm… so boring in my own head. Maybe I can write in my head.

What I wrote in my head:

Here take it….the unrequited longing, the gnawing empty ache that spirals in and out of every moment. The steady build of thoughts and energy piled up without you to bounce off of and blossom with, all of it slamming and sliding up against the wall you've built like tectonic plates. All the treasures locked up in the time you never have, the moments you'll never know, the brilliance of sparkling glitter our fusion might have made, the heat we'll never create, the love we can't make. Just take it.

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6:59 AM - Absence Makes The Heart Fonder

Alright folks… don't hate me. By the time most of you are reading this I will be flying down the highway with a 2 liter of mt dew between my legs and three kids in the backseat. I'm going to be out of town all weekend. The story will have to wait til I get back. Try and remember I did post SEVEN blogs in one day before I left… now I gotta do my best to sleep a few hours.

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1:01 AM - Untitled part seven
Category: Life

Nobody was there when I finally made it home from work. I paced around the apartment until my mom called.

"Are you okay?"

"We're okay, we went to Joey's."

"What exactly happened?"

"Well, he was going to call the cops if we didn't leave so we just packed my stuff and left."

"Who was going to call the cops?"

"Roomies dad"

"He can't do that, he's not on the lease!"

"It's okay, we don't want to be any trouble."

"Any trouble! You practically paid the rent this month for the privilege of being thrown on the street in November with nine months pregnant BigD!!"

"Don't worry about that… what about you? Do you need a place to stay?"

"No! I pay rent here, my name is on the lease here, I'm not going anywhere! Listen I have to go, I think she just pulled up. I'll call you tomorrow."

Keys were jingling in the door and Roomie strolled in, studiously avoiding eye contact. She hung her coat in the closet and I walked over to stand in the hall, blocking her escape path. "Why didn't you just tell me you wanted my mom to leave?" she shrugged, her eyes focused somewhere behind me. "What happened here today is unforgivable, Roommate."

"Are you going to move so I can get by?"

"When I'm finished." I said "I want to be clear on this. I'm not leaving. I pay rent here, this is my home and I'm not going to be shoved out just because you've got a new boyfriend you want to live with. You don't want my mom staying here, fine. You could have just said so like a decent person instead of having your Daddy and your boyfriend do it while I was at work. It's unbelievable! My mom taught you to drive, she cut your hair, she's always been good to you! Your dad screamed and yelled at her, threatened to call the cops! She was crying!" she turned her head away, her eyes were glazed over "So you got what you wanted this time. You're right, my mom is not on the lease and if you would rather she didn't stay over, I respect that. But do not for one second think your dad or The Troll intimidate me. I share a lease with you and with you alone, you have a problem you come to me."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah. I'm done" I shifted to let her pass.

He called a few minutes later.

"Hey, are you okay? I didn't know if you'd even be there."

"Where else would I be, I live here."

"I heard about what happened with your mom, it really sucks… Is The Troll home yet?"

"No."

"Listen… I don't know what's going on there or if anything has happened yet….. I know you can hold your own with The Troll,  I've seen you do it and actually I like it a lot,  I just wanted to say.." he hesitated, wasn't sure if he was breaking some code of loyalty to his friend, The Troll.

"well?"

"I'm just sort of worried. I've seen him do things… to women. Maybe don't do anything until I get there."

"And if you were here? How exactly would you help?" I asked but  he knew I was wondering why he appeared to be backing me up over his long-time friend.

"He's wrong. And I don't want anything to happen to you. Just don't start anything with him."

"You think I would start something? I don't have anything to say to him. This is between me and Roommate." He didn't say anything but I could tell he wanted to convince me, could hear it in his breathing.

"I'll see you after work" he finally said.

"I'll be up." I mimicked his line and he chuckled into the phone.


part eight

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