Me and Moby? Moby and me? I almost forgot until I started taking this dumb AOL news quiz that I take every week and do terribly on that I have a thing for Moby. There was this really really cute picture of him on the quiz. He had facial hair and really cute glasses on. I was trying to find a picture of him that doesn't look like my husband since I couldn't download that picture. He looks like my husband on most of his pictures and he looks like my sister's baby picture on the rest of them. I'm looking at her baby picture right now, she's bald and it's in black and white. Anyway, the report is that Moby has respect for Eminem now. Yayyy! Not that I'm happy that he has respect for Eminem but maybe this dumb feud will be over. If you don't know what I'm talking about, Eminem and Moby fans have been fighting for like three years now almost. I mean what am I supposed to do, throw a vinyl record at an eminem fan while he pulls out a gun and shoots me? I mean come on. How are the weak, vegetarian Moby fans supposed to beat up an Eminem fan? Well let an Eminem fan come to a rave and stand in front of the big a** speakers and we'll push the speaker over and crush him. But let me not be so violent. I've missed every Moby concert here. Once I missed it to be in class. I got an A in the class so it was worth it. Then I missed it to be pregnant. Oh joy! Then I didn't even know he was here at the Taste of Chicago this year--I was in Minneapolis trying to clear my head. Now I'm not going to see him. My mom is hopeful that I'll see him the next time he's in town. When will that be, 2009? And if I ever met him, what would I say to him? You inspired me to be a better Christian and a vegetarian? You inspired me to be a vegetarian to be a better Christian? Let's run away together forever, wait a minute let me drop my kids off with some relatives. Get the heck out of here. I mean I would have to stop eating eggs and cheese and butter and ice cream and well just about everything. I couldn't wear anything Coach because it's leather and I'd have to throw out most of my shoes. I don't even think he uses soap. But who's perfect? Well..in my defense for being such a poor Moby fan I've been married and having babies and stuff and that's why the only album I have of his is Play. No other reason. Now you all have homework. Find Mr. Melville (yes Moby is related to THAT Melville) and give him my number, email address or whatever. I almost forgot. His journal is worse than this blog. He writes "oh I just got it Taipei. I'm going to bed now" and "I just put some more pictures I took on this website. I took a picture of the skyline." The coolest journal entry of his was right after Sep. 11. He was cursing and complaining that no one told the Manhattan residents that because of the debris and residue it was unhealthy for them to breathe the air around there--and he was upset because he could have possibly gotten ill just by being at home. I wonder what ever happened with that?

Can You?

Can you see it? Can you see it? Me and Constantine. Constantine and me. Well now I'm hooked. I've almost become one of those psycho silly old bats who's in love with Constantine Maroulis. He's just sooooooo cute to me right now. I am saying this because the new compilation album Killer Queen is coming out next month. He is doing one Bohemian Rhapsody and another band is doing the other. I just watched a promo clip of him in the studio and it is just so nice, perfect, cool! Way cool! But I am now feeling utter disgust when I think of who he is reportedly "casually dating." Ewwww. Some people need some discernment or some help.

Ok I'm still like planning my birthday celebration. I looked into getting a party room with a set menu at the restaurant I have chosen but the package I like is 27.95 per person plus 10% tax and a 20% gratuity. ouch! We could just go as a big group and order a few tapas to share. The first time I did this the tab came to about $11 per person. The second time I did this it came to $25 per person. Ok I was so pissed because I was with psychology students and they were so DUMB. I mean they ordered pitchers of sangria and paella and other stuff that totally ran the tab up and they wanted to split it even. Some people threw money down and ran out of there. I'm pretty sure they shorted us because in the end some really nice guy ended up paying the rest out of his pocket. I will never doubt U of C students again. Still the smartest in the world. They are the ones that kept the tab low. The graduate students in psychology are the ones that didn't have any sense. See that is why I post on internet boards and blogs rather than seek psychological help. What can they do for me if they can't even handle going to a tapas bar and ordering enough for everyone at the table while keeping the tab low?

Always,
L

PS: google Hollywood records Killer Queen and watch the beautiful footage that caused me to melt at this ungodly hour.

Announcement!!

I finally finished reading what has been written so far in the "Wildest Dreams" story about Constantine Maroulis. Phew! That story is worse than both of the times I was in labor. But I'm looking forward to each subsequent installment.

And just to clarify what I wrote earlier, the woman who is writing the story is NOT the same lady who is complaining about not being able to be a good wife and get back to reality after meeting him. Poor lady. She mixed bleach and ammonia together and she's requesting prayer because she's so sick; she almost died from the chemicals being mixed. Oh bummer.

Anyway... I was just reading another thread that gave me the exact date of Con's birthday--Sep. 17 and also reminded me that he is turning the big 3 0. I was inspired by both the story and this reminder to celebrate my own turning the big 3 0 six days after Constantine :). I want a big dinner party so I'm letting all of you guys know in advance. And I know the perfect place to have my bash. So I'm hoping you guys can get into the city so we can go out--preferably on the 23rd, which is a Friday. Figure it out guys!

Lore

Me and J-Me

Here's a picture of me and Jamie at the dance--the reason that he and Christina drove all the way to Decorah and subsequently hit that poor little deer.

How much more can I take

Fudge! I mean I've been reading this fan fiction about Constantine Maroulis all day. It's one in the morning now and I'm only on message number 379 of 1267. How many times can you freakin' look deeply into his eyes, kiss his top lip, bottom lip, full lip, and grab his hand while he leads you down the freakin' hall to the bedroom. It was cool at first and I laughed, cried, gazed dreamily into the air, but now I'm tired. But I want to know how this darn story ends. Now Constantine has given the girl a key to his place and begged her to stay every night for two weeks. So when they get home from anywhere they always plop down on the couch, have a beverage, kiss, talk, and make love.

Ok say it was me writing this story instead of the current author. It wouldn't work. Ok I have written fan fiction about Constantine but it was more fun than romantic. And I've totally been mindful of my marriage no matter how miserable it is. I think this chick is married too but she doesn't freakin' care. In fact I caught her on another topic crying about how she met Constantine and she can't stop thinking about him--not even long enough to be a wife to her husband. She needs him more and more. Well stop writing this freakin' deluded story about him. But like I said I was enjoying it for the first four hours I was reading it.

Back to what I was saying. I mean if it were me in the story there would have to be a line when Constantine goes "what the heck" after it gets a little too toasty in his bedroom and my hair gets puffy and I start to look like a porcupine or a witch (not the charmed ones). Then when he tries to run his fingers through my hair they'll get stuck in my naps. For those of you who don't understand, his hands will get stuck in my natural woolly hair when the method of straightening I have utilized has failed due to the moisture in the air or from my (our) sweat. Ok then I'd have to run and find a nice Egyptian man or some ghetto beauty salon where I could get my hair pressed right quick. Then Constantine will try and run his fingers through my hair and of course I would have forgotten that I just got a press and curl and the poor guy's hand will be full of grease and the whole mood of the evening would be ruined.

You know what I'm going to stop right there. I was going to add how hairy I am and how the girl keeps taking these showers which you think Constantine is going to join her in but he just ends up bringing her a towel and she never shaves. I have to shave like twice a day to keep my legs smooth. Poor Constantine will be getting scratched by stubble--I'm sorry I'm going to stop right now. But the last white guy who touched my new growth dropped dead. No I'm serious. I let dear Aanon touch my new growth when I needed a touch up and right before sophomore year he was dead with no real explanation. So I haven't let any more white guys in on the secret. I did let my ex try to oil my scalp once but the results were disastrous. I probably wanted him to drop dead by that time in our relationship though.
Well I'm going to go back to this story but there is only so much I can take and I'm going to run away from the computer screaming and hollering ENOUGH!!! And only about a month of time has elaspsed in almost 400 posts. I can't even say luv you Constantine after this.

But back in the 90s I loved my fan fiction about David Duchovny or rather about Agent Mulder. *sigh* He's alright but he's not really cute anymore now that he isn't Mulder. He was cute on Who Want's to be a Millionaire because Regis kept calling him Mulder and he was wearing all black. Gosh I wanted to marry Agent Mulder--NOT--David Duchovny mind you. He wasn't even cute in Red Shoe Diaries. (Didn't I say I was about to end this post a minute ago?) He played this poor sap who's woman cuckolded him. Let me explain...now see you all know you saw that movie but didn't actually pay attention to the story line like I did. His beautiful exotic girlfriend--I don't think they were engaged--cheated on him after he ran her bath water and bathed her, worshipped the ground she spat on, and freakin' took care to her every want and need. She cheated on him with this guy who sold her red shoes--a freakin' shoe salesman. Then the passion is too much for her and it consumes her, plus she can't live with the fact she cheated on David Duchovny. So she kills herself. I mean he drew her a freakin' bubble bath and played this really cool song that is on the first Pure Moods CD *phew* and even reached his hand into the tub--enough I'm done. Stick a fork in me I'm done. After I get divorced it's me and Constantine, my nappy hair, two screaming babies, a Mary Kay career, and graduate school. I really need some sleep. I haven't slept four hours in 2 days now and it's so freakin' hot!

Goodnight.

Ok I'll Force it Again--just one more time

Update on how I like Depeche Mode's new song.

It's allllllllright. I mean I'm glad to hear a new DM song and I'm always glad to hear Dave sing.

but

it's so mild mannered and so "oh well I'll write this song and *yawn* you sing it and we'll tour and make money and stuff."

I'm in the process of forcing myself to like it and there are certain parts of the song that I do like really but I'm just not in love with it. It's too radio friendly and it sounds too much like something that came out a long time ago by a group called Cause and Effect that sounded just like Depeche Mode.

In all fairness, the recording I heard was not ready for release yet. The song should not have been heard until September or October but some dummy at Q released the recording and the unfinished video on what he thought was a "secure" area of their website. So every true Depeche Mode fan (except for me) got to download this stuff. So now that I'm three days late (as always) I can no longer find the link to the video because hooray it's illegal to download and view and every link has been removed. But somebody sold it on ebay already. I searched far and wide on websites in various languages for a link to the song. Guess where I found it.
CHUM FM in Canada of all places. They're so bold that they have been playing the song on the radio already and have a poll where you can listen to the song and vote on how much you liked or disliked it.

"Oh Canada..."

So I'll be going to this tour and singing every word to this song and pretending to like it, though I'll really be there to see and hear all of the old songs.

Ready Ethel?

Free Loretta

Gosh my baby won't go to sleep. He's been crying for over an hour now. I left him in the dark listening to classical music and he just doesn't get it. Freakin' go to sleep already. I think the other one got the hint and gave up crying. I've been watching Depeche Mode videos all day and I'm in a real sultry mood. I wish I knew what that word means. Anyways why Free Loretta? you might ask.

Well... my cousin told me yesterday that her friend got freed for $2,000. No slavery hasn't come back without you being aware. Her friend got a good lawyer and immediate divorce papers with $2,000 bucks. That's good service. So if there is anyone out there that wants to make a contribution to the Free Loretta campaign I'll be taking donations between noon and five, which as you'll remember from a previous post is the time I am taking offers for a good sugar daddy. Weekdays.

Free Katie. I haven't been to that website yet. I was going to buy a Free Katie t-shirt but I just haven't bothered yet. It was cooler to me when I thought they were just talking about freeing her from her relationship with Tom Cruise (this was before the engagement) but when I found out that they were talking about Scientology (I guess) the concept wasn't as cool to me anymore. I mean she got herself into it and she'll get what's coming to her as a result. (oooh I should take my own advice, ouch). I mean this is an early warning. You guys will probably never have to worry about this but... here goes nothing...

When Katie and Tom get divorced and Tom and I meet at Tom Mann's Fish World in Eufaula Alabama we'll instantly fall in love. Don't worry about the boys, I'm sure they'll be in a very nice boarding school. In France. or Portugal.
Anyways we'll fall in love and get engaged but the media won't care because who the heck am I? I mean at first they'll think he's doing a sex video like Colin Farrell or getting what Hugh Grant got from Divine Phillips. They won't take the relationship seriously and no one will be selling Free Loretta t-shirts. But when I go to the French Chateau looking building in California to learn about my new religion--Scientology--don't go looking for me. Shhh...don't tell Tom my love but it will all be an act. Trust me they can hook me up to a machine all day and all night and make me read Dianetics all day long but I won't believe in it. Who's the poor human being who was forced to view Interview With the Vampire with me you may ask? (Remember that Tom Cruise was Lestat). Just a minute the baby is still screaming and it's been almost two hours now. Let me investigate.


He's fine.

Poor Christina and her mom. The funny thing is I didn't actually sit with them in the theater because I wanted to get the full effect of the movie, which doesn't even make any sense to me now ten years after the fact.

Crap it's going to be so hot tomorrow. It's going to feel like it's 114. You can already tell that the weather is messed up by my hair. It is bushy and I look like a witch, a real witch, not the charmed ones.

You shut your mouth, how can you say, I go about things the wrong way, I am human and I need to be loved, Just like everybody else does

You may be thinking to yourself that this is a page about the 90s and that song was out in the 80s. Well you're wrong. For the movie "The Craft" Love Spit Love remade that song. It's a little faster than Morrissey's version and you can really dance to it. That's when I went through my "I want to be a witch" phase. Who suffered through this with you? you may ask. Once again, poor Christina.

Who was in Subway on Clark Street with me after I'd seen Clerks and was going through my "wow Clerks was the funniest movie in the world" phase? Poor Christina. See we went into Subway and stood there at the counter for about 15 minutes. Nobody ever came out to help us. We could have stolen chips, pop, bread from behind the counter if we were feeling confident. So I screamed "they must be doing it" and nobody ever replied or anything. We just left.

And I still wonder how somebody who didn't even have a car could get from Chicago to Decorah, Iowa (6 hours away) at a moments notice whenever I needed a friend. Well let me tell you. My dear friend Jamie (darn it where is he?) drove all the way to LaCrosse Wisconsin from Milwaukee (Milwaukee stories will definitely follow at another time) to meet a friend and then pick up poor Christina in Rochester Minnesota from the train station to meet up with me in Decorah so all of us could go to the formal. Memories. Well on the way back the car Jamie was driving (a friend's car) met up with a deer. Rofl--they freakin' hit a deer fooling around with me. Nobody who's only been in Chicago all of their lives understands why people need collision insurance and what it really means to hit a deer.

Let's see, she was there for my frozen custard (got to have it) phase. My Alanis Morrisette all men are evil phase. My let's go to every concert and live show phase. My Dave Gahan phase. My Dave Gahan phase. My Dave Gahan phase. Yes I want to be Mrs. David Gahan again.
And even my tapas got to have them phase though every time I eat tapas I get woozy.
I was just at a friend's birthday celebration and I ate tapas and drank just a bit of Sangria. So the freakin' restaurant was spinning and I couldn't justify driving home under such conditions. So of course I called my boyfriend who was no good--I married him and he's worse than no good. He wouldn't come and get me because he says that in the same situation I wouldn't have come and gotten him and that I'm a hypocrite because I say I don't drink and I shouldn't have gotten into that situation anyway. So my dear cousin Tony comes to get me on the el train. He puts me on another el train and I go home leaving my car all the way up north on Halsted street. The next day Kenesha who'd driven to Chicago all the way from Minneapolis had to drive me to my car. The tire was flat. A cute guy in Lincoln Park put that stuff in the tire that fixes the flat. sigh. He was dreamy but I was in love with that little creep. Anyways Kenesha told me to like flirt, get his number or something but I'm so freakin' repressed and slow that I never know what I'm doing. But I digress. I just wanted to dedicate the 90s to dear Christina who I dragged hither and yon. I literally dragged her through the decade. Through fields with guys who worship the sun and through more fields with roads with signs that say Pavement Ends. We didn't know that that meant the road was going to turn to gravel. When it did I hit the breaks and the car (same car that hit a deer) spun around in a circle. Everyone except for Christina was afraid. I hope this brightens up your day, Ethel.

Love,
Lucy

Live

it's easier not to be wise
and measure these things by your brain
I sank into Eden with you
alone in the church by and by
I'll read to you here save your eyes
you'll need them your boat is at sea
your anchor is up you've been swept away
the greatest of teachers won't hesitate
to leave you there by yourself chained to fate

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this

it's easier not to be great
and measure these things by your eyes
we long to be here by this resolve
alone in the church by and by
to cradle the baby in space
and leave you there by yourself chained to fate yeah

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you

oh no we took it back to far
only love can save us now
all these riddles that you burn
all come running back to you
all these rhythms that you hide
only love can save us now
all these riddles that you burn yeah yeah yeah

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you

Dedicated to Kenesha Brown. It's not that I love and tempt you or anything like that but you're the one that sat around the dorm room with me and watched Live Unplugged on MTV back when it was still a station (barely) that meant a darn and made the 90s totally bearable and FUN alternative and rockin.' Love ya babe.

Today

I said that I wouldn't vote anymore for the people trying to become the next lead singer of INXS but for some odd reason I rushed home from my Mary Kay meeting to catch the last half hour of the show. I really didn't intend to vote, I mean the rest of the world can decide who takes Michael's place--
right?--

wrong!

I believe that I've grown to love some of the contestants and I really don't want to see some of them go. So I voted. Thank goodness my connection was bettter this time and the voting was much less laborious. But with so many people to vote for, I forgot who I'd already voted for.

And... I don't understand how they choose the music the people sing. I mean they play INXS on the alternative station here. So are they alternative? On the show people are singing Hendrix, which I can understand because it's rock n roll but they're also singing "What I Like About You" and Black Sabbath and it's just all mixed up to me.

But ok let me stop babbling and write about the topic I really want to discuss. I've been holding it all in because I don't want any of you to think any less about me. I mean I do have a reputation to live up to. Ok, here it is. I am totally in love with Constantine Maroulis. Well... sometimes I am. I mean he's creepy, a loser, grimy, greasy, funny looking, and looks like he's stoned out of his mind most of the time. But I don't care man. He doesn't really sing--he screams. He doesn't really rock. His band needs practice. He sold himself out for popularity. And he probably won't go very far. But hey he's dreamy. Well no he's not but at least he's Greek. But I don't like Greek men. There was one exception. When I was a first year in college I was totally into this Greek guy named Anthony. Unlike Constantine Maroulis he had a really great buff bod. He was in my Humanities class and that was like the only class I passed. He was into my really short, plain, homely friend though. But he was in a fraternity and I braved the cold Chicago winter to go to one of their parties. They decided to have a shorts theme in like 30 below zero weather. So my homely friend and I wore shorts over our pants. We went, we danced and we stayed so freakin late that it was morning when I got back to my dorm. But hey Anthony complimented my shorts so it wasn't a total waste of time that took up an entire half day of my life that I could have spent studying or praying or trying to save the world or anything else that would mean something today now was it? Oh yeah he was on the football team and he liked Melrose Place too. Dreamy.

Ok back to Constantine. For those of you who do not know, he was on American Idol this year and when he got voted off the show his girlfriend (no not really) Paula Abdul cried and hugged his mother. He sang a Nickelback song that I barely remembered and barely liked back when it was released. Evidentally it was a chart topper because I heard it when I was in rural Wisconsin on my way to Minneapolis earlier this month.

Let's see he's 29 like me; he was born in September like me; and he was born in 1975 like me. Oh and he still lives at home with his parents like me. He hasn't been able to hold down a steady job like me. That's where our similarities end. He's been on Elimidate; he's been in Rent; and he's in a band who's album is being distributed by Koch Records. Whoo Hoo!

But dude what's with his eyes man. Sometimes his come hither stare causes me to scream but most other times when I look into his eyes--well as much as you can look into someone's eyes through a tv set or monitor--I think ewwwww what's his problem.

But I'm pretty sure that if I didn't have the babies and the husband I'd be a faithful GGG (Greek God Groupie--what his fans call themselves) and travel the states to see my future Greek husband sing (and stare) and swear and creep me out. But I'm sure I'd get tired of him as well and kick him out or leave and get a legal separation that would eventually end in a divorce, etc.
But anyway it's almost midnight and my brain is fried. Today was a pretty good day--it was just strange as heck. If anyone sees Lestat, Constantine Maroulis, Tom Cruise, Dave Gahan, Martin Gore, David Letterman, Thom Brennaman, Christopher Hall, Jon Kelley, Shemar Moore, the Native American guy from Creepshow part 2, Corey Patterson, Derek Jeter or oh yeah Brad Pitt's single again and even though I don't like him he did play Louis opposite Lestat, give them my phone number. (After I'm divorced).

Lead Singers

Thanx a lot for reminding me that I found the lead singer of Prodigy semi-attractive until I saw him drooling.

I do not remember this. I was just listening to Firestarter, or Breathe, or Smack My B---- Up and thought to myself that he'd be cute without the mohawk if you can call his hairstyle a mohawk, the piercings, the tatoos, and the eye makeup. He's workable.

I just always seem to find the lead singer attractive no matter what band. Gavin Rossdale of Bush, Christopher Hall of Stabbing Westward, Michael Hutchence of INXS, ok I tried to find Scott from Creed attractive but he just isn't, and last but certainly not least Dave Gahan of Depeche Mode (sigh).

But this just in. I really don't find Dave that attractive anymore. Ok get off the floor and stop praying. I don't think the world is really coming to an end. I mean I don't hear sirens and I don't believe we're getting bombed but I'm pretty sure the antichrist is on the earth. Why and what happened??

Well he's cute and he has a nice voice and all but it's obvious that he hits his habits kind of hard. He just doesn't seem to be picking up any weight anymore, he just isn't--Martin. Ok I have an affinity towards Martin now. I always thought that he looked rather strange but I read somewhere that he's half African-American. Oh. That's why he looks so cute with those knit caps pulled tightly over his head. And he djs too. He writes all the band's songs. He sings from his very soul. And he has nice lips. My friend Teressa tried to tell me this years and years ago but I didn't listen. So now as I prepare to earn money for concert tickets (oh and to live off of) I will be fawning over Dave but I'll really be there to see Martin.

Last time I dragged my friend Becky to the concert with me. We were left center in like row N so we had pretty good seats. I swear that at the last two concerts Dave and I locked eyes for a moment and stared into each others souls--but I digress. My dear Becky was wearing a jacket with suede sleeves. As my favorite song "Clean" was being sung I grabbed poor Becky's arm. Somehow she ended up with scratches deep in her arm. My am I that powerful?

Clean the cleanest I've been an end to the tears and the in between years and the trouble I've seen. Now that I'm clean. You know what I mean. I've broken my fall put an end to it all and I've changed my routine. Now I'm clean.

As years go by all the feelings inside twist and they turn as they ride with the tide...

I kept singing that verse as I rode across the Atlantic ocean in this ferry. I was so freakin' sea sick but I decided that I was not going to lose my cookies, no no no. So I kept singing clean over and over again for 3 hours until we got where we were going. I tell you, I drove those Africans nuts...even more so than I drive you nuts. I know they were never so glad to get somebody back on the plane to America. One guy wrote and faxed me and it wasn't even romantic. He wanted a copy of a picture I took of him. I didn't write back.

I don't advise and I don't criticize I just know what I like with my own eyes.
(Very good advice Martin)

Sometimes.

40 + is my lucky number

Yes guys it's really happening! You've heard it here first. My dad is about to retire. Crap. It looks like after over 40 years of being a postal slave for the federal government my dad who's nearing 70 years of age is finally calling it quits. I can't blame him. After all who wants to be slaving forever with a 42 year old ungrateful son and a 29 year old spoiled daughter with two babies to boot (kicked the husband out on June 24). I told you you'd hear it here first!

I have a few options. 1. Find a sugar daddy (offers being accepted between noon and 5 weekdays) 2. Find a sugar momma (yuck, ick, no, can't do it, sorry) 3. Get a job (what, is that somebody speaking, I just can't hear you) 4. Oh I can actually facial the six plus customers who have been waiting on me for months and actually earn some money I mean I do have a Mary Kay business going here (ok that might work) 5. lay out in a ditch screaming at the top of my lungs (hey anything to get a crazy check ;) right folks) 6. Finish graduate school, become a lecturer (stifled laughter), become a Mary Kay Millionaire (ponders the very idea), open my own day spa in Eufaula Alabama ( I will always love you Tom Cruise even though you are freakin' crazy with the Scientology and all--my good friends reminded me that he was Lestat after all and those of you who know me very well will remember me and Lestat in the 90s--I'm here for you baby if you exist--Oh crap no I'm not I have to raise these two kids and it just wouldn't do if momma was a vampire--Explanation: Tom Cruise used to be a frequent visitor of Eufaula Alabama, which is where my great grandparents lived, were married, farmed and had lots and lots of acres of land--and kids too.

Ok so maybe this will work and I will become self-sufficient today (one day, someday, oh God help me!)

This just in--it's been 43 years with military time and the retirement date is August 1st.
crap i'm screwed crap i'm screwed crap i'm screwed crap i'm screwed crap i'm screwed crap

ok by now my really good friends are saying--"Heifer just find a job already." Ladies microdermabrasion yields immediate results--instant gratification. Oh here's a good one--microdermabrasion is like a caramel colored 5 foot 9 to 6 foot 2 brother with a really cute faded hair cut with a pretty new silver BMW with his MS from IIT, NJT, Loyola hey wherever, with no kids, no baggage, no habits, a really sweet mom who buys $200 worth of Mary Kay cosmetics each month who's consultant has just quit when her son introduces me to her--oh if you see a silver BMW in Beverly for those of you in Chicago with the license plate MS NJT lead foot it and follow it home, let me know where it goes---ENOUGH already!!!

Ok I'm calming down now. Oh yes my husband. It doesn't look like things are going to work out between us. I tried my best to provide a two parent home for my sons but oh well he just won't come around. Of course he says it's my fault for not cooking, cleaning, listening, caring, and understanding. I say it's his fault for never coming home, sleeping all the time, and taking all of my money (he denies this). We went out to lunch this past Tuesday (I paid). He was looking at this advertisment with this plus size or almost plus size woman in a bikini or something and I got pissed. So he asked me if he could look at the woman on the other sign. The woman on the other sign had no hair, no hands, and no feet. It was one of those yellow and black signs letting motorists know that there was a crosswalk in the vicinity. My husband said that at least that woman had a purse so he could go into it and take some money out of it.

And when did I start liking black men?

Discuss.

I N X S---Ugh!

So I thought to myself "why not" I mean I was a die hard INXS fan (almost) in the late 80s and early 90s. I watched Rockstar INXS the other day, took notes on who I liked and who I liked more, cheered, and decided to vote for my favorites. Why did I do that? I'll put it to you like this. I've been in labor twice in the past two years. I labored for about 27 minutes the first time and about an hour and 15 minutes the second time. I felt pain but I didn't really even have time to break a sweat. Well I broke a sweat trying to vote for these people to be the next lead singer of INXS.

First you have to go to the rockstar msn webpage and click on the vote box. That's easy enough. Next you have to click on who you want to vote for. Once again that's easy enough. But then you have to type in the 8 characters that you see so that automatic votes aren't counted. If you've never had to do that before let me tell you...it's not easy. There are as many stray marks and wavy lines as there are characters so you have to press your face into your monitor and try to distinguish the letters and numbers from the marks. Then the letters aren't even straight, sometimes they're sideways. It's always something like W8XXVYK/X and I always get it wrong the first five times.

So by the time I tried to vote for the fifth person I didn't want to go home I just gave up, threw my mouse down onto the floor and Xd out of all the programs I had running at the time even my internet connection. I thought to myself good luck and I'll let someone else decide who gets to be the next lead singer of INXS.

Apology

Whoa!

I've been trying to start writing for about an hour now. I must have the slowest most miserable internet connection and virus prone computer in the world.

I am so so so so so so so sorry that I have not contributed to this online community in a while. I was trying to clear my head. I have been out of my head since just before the July 4th holiday. Imagine if you're swinging in a tire swing and you keep going higher and higher and higher for four days straight. That's how far out of my head I have been lately. I stepped out of my place for just a moment in time. But I'm back now and more cynical than ever though I feel good right now. I think it's the music that's got me feeling better and better every hour. For those of you I haven't told my local Alternative radio station is on shuffle and playing all of the good ole tunes I have been wanting to hear.

That's right all of the 90's music I care to hear and more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I even like some new songs. "Will you bite the hand that feeds?" That's a really cool song or maybe it was just forced down my throat by the radio station that keeps playing it and playing it. That's what I need right now, a man down on his knees. They played a version on Tuesday night where some guy layered Trent Reznor's voice over some song that was played in that Flashdance movie. That way you got to see how s l o w l y Trent sings the song. It was very erotic which would be cool if you were looking for something erotic, which I am not right now. Crap I'll be right back. My baby just ripped the woodwork off the wall because he was angry that my mom and dad left home. I hope the wooden plank didn't hit him.

BugS!!!

Do you remember that Pearl Jam song called "Bugs?" It was on that Vitalogy CD contraption that contained this booklet with all this old fashioned health stuff. I just bought that cd for the song "Not For You."

This is not for you.
Never was for you.

Anyway I need to hear "Bugs" right now but as some of you remember one Christmas break in the 90s I went home from Luther to celebrate the holiday and all my cds got stolen including Vitalogy. I didn't bother to buy that again. Anyways I need to hear that song because I have so many freakin' mosquito bites. Why?

I went to Minnesota for the July 4th holiday. I've been to Minnesota lots of times before. Why have I never been bitten before now? Does having babies make you more susceptible to bug bites? Then when I asked Kenesha about West Nile Virus she just shrugged and said that she thinks they found one dead crow that had it.

So now I'm freaking out. My eldest son keeps scratching his bites. One mosquito even bit me right under my hairline on my forehead. That's new. What the heck? I didn't scratch that one at all, no no no, I can't have my face scarred and sell cosmetics.

I'm still reeling from my baby falling into Lake Calhoun but I'll write more about that later. But if anyone has Vitalogy still, play "Bugs" in my honor.

Love you,
Loretta