Bb-bb-borrrrrrreeeeeeddddd!!!!!!!!!

I don't do bored well. But when I signed up for elective surgery a couple of months ago, I thought "Cool, it will force me to relax! That's not something I do very often." Riiiight.

Now I'm bored. Freakishly bored. Bone-achingly bored. Eat-all-of-the-food-in-the-cabinets bored. But not well enough to do something about it.

I thought about chatting it up with strangers online. Too messy, too much hassle. And it always leads to talkin' dirty. And while I like talking dirty, I really only want to do it whispering softly and directly in the ear of my special guy, following it up with a flick of my tongue. As it should be. So no, no chatting for me.

I'm bored with being bored. I'm on the edge of doing something reckless like getting behind the wheel of my car. Not a good idea when your body is coming down off of vicodin. How long does that shit stay in your system anyway? Does anybody out there know?

Plus, it's a beautiful day, the kind of day where I should be lounging on the grass in front of Starbucks at Santana Row listening to the band du jour and watching the kids play in the fountain. Bummer.

I know this weird in-between place won't last forever, where my brain is ready to go, but my body isn't. But damn, if it ain't a bitch.

5:04 PM - 6 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Pole dancing at midnight

Yo my peeps. It's been a long time since I wrote a blog. A blog of any kind. And this blog is proving difficult to write, or at least to spell correctly since I am a bit dizzy at the moment. Dizzy with the pole. I just got back from a friend of a friend's birthday party. And it just so happens that the friend of a friend has a pole installed in her living room. Not a permanent pole, mind you, but a movable pole. A detachable pole. No that's still not right... It's a hidey-pole. Well, you get the picture.

They popped the pole up around 11 pm and something just happened inside me. You gotta know that I love the pole, for better or for worse. It's just fucking fun to spin around on that thing. So the minute they popped that sucker up, who is the first one on it? Me. This is after I swore to god that I wouldn't get on it because I was wearing a dress. And you really shouldn't spin on the pole in a dress unless you are prepared for everyone to see your undies.

Whatever, the pole was CALLING me. Hello? What? Can I accept this collect call? It's the POLE on the line. So I grab that sucker and start spinning; much to the entertainment of all the attached men in attendance. Luckily the party consisted mostly of single women, so my pole escapades were met with half hearted glances, for the most part. And I tried to pole dance only when no one was watching. Was I seriously kidding myself? Maybe. Because the wall of windows only served to make me feel like no one was watching me. No one inside the house at least.

So I've decided I'm going to install my own pole. Even if there is no one who wants to watch me (and I do NOT need volunteers, by the way). Because that shit is just plain FUN. And I know I should have more fun. Now, all I need is a man who is good with a drill and screw driver and I'll be good to GO.

1:15 AM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Preening my friends list
Current mood: satisfied

I've decided to take a stand on this MySpace issue. You know the issue, the "am I going to be a friend collector or not?" issue. Well, I've been back and forth a number of times, randomly granting and denying friendship as my mood suited. I've decided to do a major cleanup at this point. I'm sure I only really know or care about 50-60 of you all so I'm going to be deleting the rest. Now, if it turns out that you live for my blogs and I've deleted you without knowing that, my apologies. In that case, please send me an email letting me know you do not want to be deleted because of XY&Z reasons. If I already know you, or if you subscribe to my blogs, I'll leave you in my list, obviously. I'm not a bitch or anything. ;)

7:58 PM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Sleep
Current mood: tired

Sometimes it's so easy to fall asleep. I'm sitting here at my desk at work attempting valiantly NOT to fall asleep. The time change is kicking my ass like a tiny leprechaun on steroids with steel toed boots. I actually saw someone asleep at their desk yesterday. I work in a cubicle farm and was walking to the bathroom when I saw this guy who looked to be about 50 years old snoozing at his desk. He's a big guy and was sitting up straight, angled toward his computer screen, with his chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. At least his fingers weren't poised on the keyboard like mine are when I nod off. Like I'm ready to type something brilliant, if only I could wake my ass up.

The gnats here sometimes keep me awake. Yeah, we've got bugs. Fungus gnats to be exact. Pesky little fuckers but they serve a purpose… to keep us awake! Playing with the gnats is like a game, or maybe more like war. Just when you kill one gnat, a new one is sent in from the trenches to fight. My coworker Jon killed seven yesterday and marked their dead carcasses on his dry write board with little Xs. See, I'm taking an art class, so I marked my dead gnat bodies by drawing each smashed little corpse exactly as it lay. Little leg askew here, crumpled wing there. So the gnats help me to stay awake, but mostly they are just annoying.

I'm having trouble staying awake figuratively as well. You all know by now that I'm single again and dating. And well, I noticed that during the dating process, as I start to fall for a guy, I start to go to sleep on myself. Zzzzzzzz. I've learned a lot of lessons from the last two guys I did that with and so now I'm vigilant. Must stay awake. Must not forget self.

I use my profile song as a reminder...

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Wakey wakey!

Currently listening : Colour the Small One By Sia Release date: 10 January, 2006

10:04 AM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Whino

Do you ever drink at lunch? I never do. Well, almost never because I did today. And boy, do I feel GOOD. I should drink at lunch more often. Do you have any idea how much tension I carry around? I've got this overactive brain that's constantly tick tick ticking away worrying about this and that and whatifwhatif. Aaauuuuuuggggghhhhh! I know that alcohol it not the answer, but in moderation it's okay. Really tiny little amounts taken mid-day, should be perfectly alright. I might start keeping those tiny little airplane-sized bottles of liquor in my desk for those moments. Hahahahahah. That would be fucking hilarious. I'm in this leadership program at work and I'm pretty sure I'd be the only "leader" smelling of Southern Comfort at 1 pm. Wine is a little more acceptable, but seriously puts me to sleep. I'm going to sleep right now, in fact. I'm just curious, before I doze off, how many of you drink during the da...ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

1:18 PM - 3 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment

Death of an alpha male
Current mood: shocked
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

I didn't mean to kill him. He ran right in front of my car. I swear. Damn him for being Mr. Fitness Center. I used to see him in the gym all the time. He always started with the treadmill, then worked his way to the weights and finished by doing some stretches on the yoga mats. And now he's dead. Why he was sprinting through a crowded parking lot in the first place? I have to admit watching him run was a pleasure, all those tight muscles flexing under his tailored clothes. That's what I saw just before he hit my hood.

I should feel worse about killing him. But this guy, this ever-so-perfect alpha male, well, dare I say it? He deserved to die. He was the kind of guy that thought the world of himself. You know the type, he struts around never making eye contact with anyone. Only deigning to notice those he deems as perfect as himself. Totally. Fucking. Obnoxious.

So I hit him. Honestly, I did not have time to brake. I would've braked because I'm a good person. But I didn't have to time to break as he sprinted out in front of my car. It probably didn't help that I'd been up crying last night over another obnoxious alpha male and so my eyes were puffy and blurry. And I all had for help was a pair of glasses with no lenses in them. I couldn't see as well as I liked. But I swear, the dude came out of nowhere. What's a girl to do?

* DISCLAIMER: Actually, I never hit the guy, he stopped before he sprinted in front of my car. I also have no wish for anyone, including any of the alpha men in my life, to be injured or killed in a car accident. I just have an overactive imagination.

11:31 AM - 5 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Whip that Bootie -- Funkalicious February 2007
Current mood: chipper

Bootie Bootie Bootie, how do I love thee Bootie? God freakin damn, I just love that party. I went mith my girl Miss Chelly and we had ourselves one big gob of juicy fun.

But first, you have to see what we wore. Because costumes are part of the fun. I for one, sporting a hot pink corset, riding crop, vinyl boots, and mask; and Michelle wearing thigh-high stockings, miniskirt and bangles. We wanted to dress up as the Good and Plenty candy, and I suppose this is as close as we could get. I think it was a good first attempt, nonetheless. Check us out.



First stop, Dada. He looks pretty pleased with himself. Or maybe it was the fact that I just laid a big platonic kiss on him. We saw Mysterious D briefly for 3.2 seconds, but she was busy so we caught her later.



The party was well under way when we arrived. Adrian was up in the booth rockin the house. Almost immediately I got to meet McSleazy, one the of the most renowned Mash-up DJs and the founder and admin of GYBO (the Get Your Bootleg On web site). He looked a little jet lagged, and seemed to be resting up for his set later. He and the resident DJs paused for a group pic, McSleazy, Dada, Party Ben, Mysterious D, and DJ John.





Upstairs I caught Earworm and DJ Freddy King of Pants spinning for an empty lounge. Empty but not for long. Just a half hour later and the place was packed. I had to whip people out of my way to make a little dancing space. God, I love that whip. At one point, some girl grabbed me from behind, grabbed the whip and after smacking me with it, gave me a big kiss. Fabulous.



I noticed that Party Ben won't smile for me anymore. What's up with that?



At 11 pm, Smash-Up Derby came on stage. I ran down stairs and snapped some pics along the way. I love the angles of this one, these guys were rocking out.



So I'm standing two people out from the stage at the beginning of the next song, and Adrian gives an intro about the painfulness of love... sometimes it's gotta hurt. His story on this may be a little different, but I felt like we locked eyes, he saw my riding crop, and I gave it on up. The poor band played the rest of the song been smacked by Adrian. Ouchies.



Check out the glittery eyelashes on Jamie, one of Smash-Up Derby's guitarists.



A classic Trixxie and Adrian moment...



Next up, bring on the Midnight Mashup show! Ya gotta love a milk-crate car and a bottle of whiskey when mixed with two trannies and Steven Satyricon. They looked great and gave a wonderful performance to DJ JayR's My Other Car is a Beetle.




On my way out, I caught the fabulous Indra looking lovely as always.



Oh yeah, and a shout out to the guy from Bootie LA who was freakin thrilled to be at his first Bootie SF. Do we know how to throw a party or WHAT?

Currently reading : The Birth of Venus: A Novel By Sarah Dunant Release date: 30 November, 2004

9:29 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Every party should end with nudity
Current mood: creative

Last night I hosted a Pink Princess Birthday / Super Bowl Sunday party. I know.. that's like owning a Gun and Doll shop. Or wearing a skirt with slacks. Who says slacks anymore, anyway? Say it three times… SLACKS SLACKS SLACKS. Ridiculous.

I decided I was not going to worry about this party. My daughter Lucy is turning four, so the party is really for her, but I knew that people would be itching for the super bowl, so I got that going on as well. Beer in the living room, juice boxes in the playroom. Actually, I decorated the garage like a castle (much thanks to my ex for his assistance in hanging the castle walls). And threw a bunch of pink stuff around. It looked pretty cool, see the pics.

Now any party that has more than three children to rub together is going to make me a little nutty. So periodically I would exit the building and make faces on the side of the garage. My brother caught me in the act. Whoopsie.

But really, I had kids climbing my trees (yeah, that's a little girl in the tree below), catsup being spilled on my carpet, and people pooping in my toilet (which we've already determined is NOT a good idea). Overall, though, it went fabulously.

There was on little scare when Lucy and her little friend Nicki disappeared. Yeah, I found these two alone in the backyard in the dark. Wacky little princess. Luckily they don't look like they need or want a white knight to rescue them. Apparently, they decided to play a little golf.

The Super Bowlers had a great time. At one point only my dad and my friend's daughter Sophie were in the living room watching the game. Very cute.

Plus, Lucy got to order everyone around in her perfect Imperial Highness voice. She does a perfect imitation of Veruca Salt channeling Napolean. The best part of the party was when Lucy decided wearing clothes was too much a burden so she chucked off her princess dress right in the middle of the kitchen floor and sat right down on top of it. I'd show you the picture if I didn't think there might be some pervy people reading this blog.

Anyway, I think all parties should end like that. I'll be sending out Evites soon for my Naked Saint Patrick's Day BBQ. Green beer in the buff. Awesome.

1:13 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

The Tao of Poo (or Chop Wood, Carry Poo)
Category: Life

I've been reading up lately on the Tao te Ching. Fabulous reading for those of us who spend way too much time thinking. Anyway, here's a symbolic little story about maintaining the empty vessel, acceptance, and the tao of poo.

You may have heard that I'm having a problem with my plumbing. You see, the pipes that go from the house to the street are slowing being taken over by roots from the neighbors magnolia tree. I should have said the bang-on-my-door-after-midnight-fucking-crazy-neighbor's magnolia tree. But that's another story for later. Pair the root-clogged pipes with the fact that my son takes uber super poops whenever he is staying over and you have a recipe for disaster.

I called a total of three plumbers. Plumma1 came at the end of his shift and didn't want anything to do with my choked up pipes. So enter stage left, plumber number two. "When do we start digging?" he says. I say, for $3000 I will dig that motherfucker up myself. But Plumma2 then explains that the trench needs to be dug three feet across and up to a depth of six feet. Six feet! I could be planting dead people upright in my front yard with that kind of space. So I had no choice but to call Plumma3. At least I would get another quote. Well, this guy was master of his snake and was able to use a gentle back and forth rocking motion to pull the roots out. That almost sounded dirty. Anyway, digging averted for the time being.

The one unfortunate result is that I really should put as little as possible in my pipes. So besides the obvious female-related paraphenalia, it has been determined that my son's ample logs should not heretofore be allowed down said pipes. So what is it that I do, you ask? Besides urging my son to do his business at school or daddy's house? I chop 'em up and scoop 'em out. That's right, folks.

I've accepted my fate as a poop-scooper. At least until I can either sell this damn house or afford to repair the pipes. I empty my mind, accept what needs to be done, and move on. It's simple. Om. Peace. Namaste and all that shit.

10:07 AM - 6 Comments - 5 Kudos - Add Comment

Meeting the Tortilla Curtain
Current mood: artistic

First, I want to apologize about the private blogs. I've been super busy lately. Life has this amazing way of dishing up exactly what and who you need at the right times, doesn't it? So, not everything can be shared among the masses.

Anyway, one of the things I had the chance to do this week is to meet T.C. Boyle the author of The Tortilla Curtain (and other well-known books including The Road to Wellville).

I attending his presentation and book signing in Campbell. The guy is clearly a character. You know, the kind of person who wears exactly the same thing for every public appearance he has. He has this insane frizz of hair that he combs up into a point in the middle. In short, he was a hoot. And you know how I love a good hoot.

If you are familiar with the book then you remember it raises some interesting and thought-provoking questions about immigration and living the American Dream. There's also this sub-text about the environment and the impact we all have on it just from our presence.

How many of us have any awareness at all of the impact our lives have on others... or the world around us? Most of us are so busy thinking about our own concerns, my car, my house, my stuff my stuff my stuff. MEMEME. I am not alone in this. I know I spend most of my time focused on the all-holy me.

I'm just saying that it's a good thing when an author of a book can make you stop and think. Can leave something stuck in your head that can change the way you see the world, even if it's only for a little while. Read.

Currently listening : Diamonds on the Inside By Ben Harper Release date: 11 March, 2003

8:19 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment