Oh my goodness – it has been a BUSY last few days around here! Not only have I had calls galore (and again – new calls as well as repeat callers! *waves*) but have also had tons and tons of FUN doing the calls. The day has been hot! (107 degrees hot). Serious. California is burning up and I’m beyond over it.

As much as I would like to talk about all the great and interesting and truly exciting calls I’ve gotten over the past few hours – I have to mention something extremely exciting to match all that excitement! And that is… MY WEBSITE IS COMING!!!! Oh my goodness! I am so excited I can’t hardly contain myself. Remember the post before this where I was talking about Christmas being my least favorite holiday? Well – IF Christmas was my favorite-est holiday – today would be like Christmas. My super duper crazy best friend forever, Tashia (aka BSP) has made me the Website of my dreams. Or I should say is MAKING me (as I type) the website of my dreams. She has already shown me the first page of the main site and it is absolutely adorable and wonderful beyond my imaginations. I feel like an absolute doofus – designing the little that I have so far on my listings and site here after seeing the magic she has spun over there with her photoshop. She is truly gifted when it comes to things like these.

She’ll probably be making an appearance over here once it launches so you all can pat her on the back and kiss her butt the way she is accustomed to – but just so you know – I have known Tashia/Tee/BSP longer than I’ve had some undies in my drawers. Wait – that doesn’t sound so cute now that it’s out… Basically T. and I met through blogging awhile ago and she took me under her wing and tried to get me to act right. It was terribly clicky back then (this is when there was moveable type and greymatter instead of wordpress…) but Tee (the popular girl) kinda adopted me and taught me so much about everything. We’ve been friends ever since. I guess she’s had this idea now to make this site for me as a belated 18th bday gift since I’ve grown up so nicely – and the other day she gave me a little peek into what she had in store for me. What she has done is short of miraculous. I know I’m really bigging her up – but you have to believe me when I say – she is muy talented-o, and as much as I’m so proud of the website that will be mine – I’m even MORE proud of the fact that I, in all my brattiness, could retain (hold onto) such a wonderful, creative, generous, and absolutely beautiful person like her. *tear*.

I will definitely link her as a “friend” somewhere on here – because I’m aware that I have some callers who may be in need of some designing services – OR in need of some humiliation services. yup. That’s my friend. And you should be scared. I’ve been scared of her for the past 5 years, I think. Not that I’m complaining – I might be pregnant and giving away free shows on yahoo if I wasn’t scared of her threats that I behave and act right. Thanks “mama” Tee. I love you – even more than your work…so you know that’s oodles and oodles, yes?

So I’ll check in a bit later maybe (in a day?) and talk about some of the more interesting calls I’ve gotten today. Since it has been a while since I mentioned him, I need to say a special “hi” to my Uncle Randy. Or is that RALPH? J/K. He was the first to spoil me rotten – so you can all blame him for my temperment and bad teeth (from all the candy). He was also the first to really care about my educational goals, contributing much more than he probably could afford just to see that I continue with school and make something of myself (not like being a FLIRT isn’t “something of myself” but you know what I’m saying…). He called me today and made sure that he pleased me totally before even grabbing a minute of satisfaction for himself. And when we were “done” – he gently reminded me to come to him if I needed anything. I find his generosity almost overwhelming. He truly wants nothing from me but happiness and a shared smile now and again – and so I had to quickly thank him- for not only his friendship but also for his love and support (and I mean that in a nice way, UR. )

I got some work to do before the website is revealed so I have to cut this short(er) than usual. I’ll be on off and on tonight – to catch up with anyone I didn’t catch earlier this morning or this afternoon. Till then….

From the phone calls, emails, and “how do you do’s” I take it that the majority of my ‘readers’ had a good, somewhat relaxing, and scrumptious 4th! Here’s to the red, white, and blue. (end required patriotic feelings here). Nah – I’m not going to go into a political thing here – had enough of that at the grown up table next to 3 fifty-something year old men the other day. Luckily we all were the basic idealist liberals/libertarians or whatever so there weren’t any fights going on – but we were lucky. Even I know that the cardinal sin to any party conversation is bringing up politics or religion.

I had a great 4th of July, though. I wasn’t expecting it to be good (as anyone who read my post the other day can suspect…) but I was pleasantly surprised and eternally grateful. I had a GLORIOUS time in the sun – and it was bright – and it was warm – but thank god not half as bad as it was inland. It was a nice bright get out your sunscreen before you burn 73 degrees by the beach and a hell on earth 108 back at home. Ridiculous. Being that we haven’t had rain here since Noah built the ark – there were cops supposedly patroling the beach waiting to confiscate fireworks that could potentially burn several homes. The threat of a 1000.00 fine didn’t stop the locals from giving us about 3-4 different firework shows, depending on which direction you looked.

The house was pretty close to the beach, so from the patio we could see just fine. I had no desire to go back down to the beach. I had already spent 4 hours prior jumping around in the sand and waves with my cousins, and walking about 3 miles for my daily cardio so I didn’t feel bad for eating the potato salad that was calling my name back at the house. In addition to tanning and chewing large amounts of sand with my pretzels, I also was a guest judge of several castle building contests. I kept looking at my youngest cousin (who is 12) like, “what is wrong with you and your friends? Why don’t you build a castle like the other children?” but she was too busy trying to fill out her bikini top. She and her 2 buddies have officially entered that age – the age where they are no longer sweet and covered in babyfat – but little pre-teen-adonnas one and all. *sigh* I should have built a castle my own damn self… hmph! (or at least got someone to bury me in some sand so only my head and toes peeked out).

The beach was busy – but it wasn’t half as crowded as some of the other more populated (and quite frankly NASTIER) beaches. Thank goodness. But there was the sound of the waves – and almost like punctuation, the sound of children’s screams. I don’t know what it is about waves that make children (and some adults, even) scream – but they are successful in illiciting at least 50 screams per minute or so every time the huge waves came crashing on the shore.

I love watching people at the beach. I love watching girls walk from one end to the other in the skimpiest of bikinis and watch all the men sitting there with their wives, girlfriends, mothers, etc. Sunglasses shield your eyes, boys, but when your whole HEAD TURNS to watch a girl pass – you’re not really fooling anyone, ya know? I noticed something though on that beach. No matter how a person physically looked (because there were some women who were pretty damn brave to wear a bikini let me tell you) – if a woman carried herself with confidence and an almost superior type of attitude, all eyes (even women’s) were on her. If a girl walked by and was covering up her body (even if she had the fiercest body ever!) people acted embarrassed for her and didn’t even look twice at her with any sort of longing or whatever. It was interesting. I have no idea how I walk on the beach, by the way. The other day I walked with shorts on and a bikini top. I’m modest but I guess I like to give a little tease every now and again.

So after the beach we headed back to the house to eat – and like I hinted at earlier (is that alluded or ELUDED, I wonder?), I ended up at a table of 3 men who were about 50 or so. And I’m not complaining at all. Because I felt EXTREMELY comfortable. We talked about music, and lyrics, and Stevie N., and The Beatles – and a bit about politics, Woodstock, and MLK Jr, too. I just leaned my head against my hands and watched their expressions while they talked. I laughed alot – asked a few questions – and as the day started to cool off I just felt something deep inside of me. I was content. I had enough to eat but was not stuffed – I was warm – but not too hot. I was entertained, but not overly stimulated. I was just absolutely at that moment in time CONTENT. I wanted for absolutely nothing. I had everything that I needed and I think that has to be the first time I have ever ever felt that way. It was glorious.

The fireworks that nite were fantabulous – and long. Many families joined together and had a sort of firework you got served sort of thing going on. Everyone wanted to out do each other and I’m sure over 1000.00 dollars was spent on the chance to be crowned the Firework King of 2007. They weren’t afraid of a 1000.00 fine, that is for sure. Even when we packed up to leave at about 10:00PM – fireworks were still booming behind us – and they had started at 8:00PM. But I sat there in the front seat of the car on our way home and held onto the sun, the waves, the screams, the conversations, the music, the scenery and even the crackles of the fireworks I love the best. I remember how that felt that moment I was content. It’s like satisfied – only it lasts longer. It’s like the afterglow you feel after a big orgasm. It’s like looking at the best redesign for your site that your bff did for you and wondering if she just somehow tapped into your brain to bring everything you ever wanted to “paper”. It’s like finishing a workout – and for a moment enjoying the sweat collect in the small of your back and your heart beating wildly against your chest. It’s like coming home to several appointments, and well wishes and calls asking how your day was.

I’m so glad I went.

There are some holidays that make me nostalgic much more than others. I know that the typical holiday that would bring tears to eyes and cause people to break out the ole family albums and weep for yester-years would be Christmas – but Christmas has never been my favorite holiday. Perhaps it’s the crowds that you have to fight thru – and the presents you have to figure out to buy for people – and trying not to look too disappointed when your grand mother gives you another pair of home made mittens (with strings attached to them so you don’t lose them – which was cute when you were 5 – but just plain obnoxious at age 15…). It could be that the holiday just isn’t any fun when you’re still too small for the grown up table and too old for the kiddie table and are forced to cut up the ham for your nieces and nephews at the not even stable card table that inevitably falls over at some point of the festivities. Nah – Christmas isn’t my most favorite of holidays – even though Silent Night sung in my father’s church in 4 part harmony over candle light does make up for everything I mentioned before (yes, even Grammy’s mittens).

The holiday that makes me the most homesick for MN has to be The 4th of July. Hands down. With a big huge slice of watermelon on the side. I LOVE the 4th. I love everything about it – even the loud fireworks and the smell of hair burning when it gets a bit too close to the sparklers.

At the lakes when I was younger, I would wake up as early as I could and just about jump out of my skin for the day to begin. EVERYONE came to our house for the holiday: Grandparents, Cousins, Aunts, and neighbors who knew that we knew how to throw a big party. When the cars were parked up and down the drive way and spilled onto our lawn – the kids would gather and change into our swimsuits. We would spend the rest of the day and evening in them, eating watermelon and corn on the cob and jumping into the lake to “wash off” afterwards. There would be waterskiing and “tubing” and swimming out to the raft that sat waiting for us in the middle of the lake. I have no idea what the grown ups would do – they wouldn’t even really watch us very much until we needed them to pull us in the speed boat and then only if my brothers, who were old enough to do it on their own, were otherwise occupied (smoking pot in the treehouse, sneaking beers from the cooler, or sneaking peeks at the always present gorgeous friend one of the cousins brought along for the holiday).

This 4th will be spent at a body of water – but nothing like the lake. I am not going to get into a whining type of fit here – but I just have to say a few things: The ocean is nothing like a lake. Oceans make waves that are angry. The waves crash up on the shore and deposit things on the sand while taking a bit of sand and debris back with it. The ocean – at least here in Southern California – is dirty, and having a mouthful of the ocean and accidentally swallowing a few cup fulls, could result in a few days of paranoia of what type of disease you’ve infected your body with. I’ve never seen a person swim in an ocean in southern California. I’ve seen people run into the ocean and just as quickly run back out again – but I haven’t seen a person actually swim and submerge themselves in it…at least not on purpose. No matter how many people pee in a lake the water is still clear. And we drink it often. Saves the trip up the steps to get a soda is our motto. The fish in the lakes in Northern MN are safe to eat and you can actually figure out what type of fish it is. Sunfish. Trout. Bullheads. I once was at the Santa Monica Pier and saw someone fishing. I waited while the fisherman and his son pulled and tugged and reeled in their catch. When they had finally succeeded in pulling their “catch” from the ocean’s depth – I gasped. I’m serious. I gasped. And then I said, “What is that?” and the fisherman answered me. He said, with this look of fear on his face, “I don’t know.” It seemed to be living, so it wasn’t a dead body, old shoe, or waste or anything like that. But it was some type of ocean creature that one could not eat - and I wondered how in the hell he was going to take it off his hook. Whatever “bait” he used, I hope he got rid of it. A simple worm in the lakes of MN would have yielded a fish big enough to feed a … you know what? Let me stop. Let me just stop.

So tomorrow my family and I will be going to a beach house about 10 feet away from the ocean. If that. It reached 108 today and at the beach it will be closer to 70. The sand will be hot – but the mist generated by those somewhat angry waves will make everything comfortable. The family that has invited us will have lots of delicious food like corn on the cob and watermelon and chicken and every flavor of chip imaginable. We’ll probably fight with the little kids over who gets to sit in the hot tub next, and I’ll have the seasonal fight with Mr. K who always threatens to pull me into the ocean while sand finds its way into orfices it has no business even seeing. I think I’ll bring along a book – or two, my journal and of course my ipod and all these things will stay in my beach bag (along with the sunscreen I wished I had pulled out) the entire time. I’ll probably bring along guitar hero which is like the best game E-V-E-R and we’ll wrap up the evening by playing Charades (which is a very competitive game among people who feel they should have been actors and actresses) and we’ll fall asleep on the drive back (but hopefully not the person who is driving) after 10 or more hours soaking up the sun and the ocean breeze. It isn’t quite like memories from growing up – but it comes mighty close and beats sitting inland gasping as the dry heat sucks up every bit of energy and compassion you have.

I hope that everyone enjoys their 4th – in whatever way you decide to celebrate it. Try not to get annoyed at the firecrackers that go off on your street long after midnight – and eat a nice piece of juicy watermelon and think of me. If you can. Let the juice just run down your hand and over your mouth until you are sticky and then either jump in a pool, lake, ocean, or shower to clean off. But more important than any traditions you may partake in – be safe. Be safe and be careful and return back home rested, tanned, and … well, horny. I’ll be back either late July 4th, or by the 5th. Look for me.

Her last name had cock in it. But somehow her name escaped the taunts of highschool children. It was as though she was protected with a fine layer of repellent that nothing evil could penetrate. Everyone loved her. I was no exception.

She taught a bunch of subjects in our tiny little school (English, Voice, Psychology) and had gone to a college that only the finest teachers had attended. It was a well-known Minnesota college – Lutheran and liberal arts. My father had attended that same college – and his siblings – and virtually everyone in the little town of less than 1000 people. The fact that she had gone there just made the college (not her) that much more revered. At least in my 13-year-old mind.

I sought to be involved in everything she was involved in and that included an after school activity I didn’t even know if I was good at. I ended up winning two state titles. My name and picture were in the little town’s paper – and that was a big deal. I use to save all the clippings but have since lost track of them.

She had the neatest writing I have ever seen. When she wrote on the whiteboard it was as though she were drawing flowers and stems and leaves instead of words like Freud and Cognitive and Self Actualization. I would sit in her room during lunch period while the other children consumed heavy amounts of cheese the consistency of paste and pasta the texture of rubber. She would grade papers and I would pretend to read. I would look up from my desk and just stare at her frosted blonde hair and her blue blue eyes and love her. I simply worshiped the ground she walked on.

She was my very first friend. My best friend. And when I later moved, she wrote long letters to me in her flower cursive. I would read the letters over and over and over again and I would rub my fingers over the part that said she loved me as though the words themselves were made out of silk.

It had been awhile since I had had friends as important as she was. Women friends. I sometimes catch glimpses in friendships I’ve developed with men, but they always seem so much more complicated than the one I had with my English teacher. Even though I was in love with her, you see, I never thought of actually fucking her. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to her. It was just that our relationship was so much deeper than a physical relationship. I wanted to crawl up inside of her and just stay there forever – I didn’t want to actually kiss her or have some physical relationship with her or anything. I wanted to be near her. And I envied her children because they got to be tucked into bed each night by her – and kissed awake by her in the morning. I would often wonder if they knew how lucky they were.

I quit the gym the other day. I just couldn’t take it anymore and it was clear to me that they just had other ideas about me – and how to run the place that didn’t go along with what I thought. It’s a rather long, complicated story that right about now (at 3:14AM in the morning) doesn’t seem to matter that much. But I went back to the gym this afternoon so that they could kiss my little ass. Afterwards I worked out a bit – and talked to the ladies there, reassuring them that I would know if they were working out and to not use my leaving as an excuse to get all out of shape and weak again. Little ladies just grabbed me and held onto me and squeezed my cheeks and told me how wonderful I was. Other women slipped me their business cards and told me to call them if I needed anything. Other women called me and asked me how I was and if they (the management) had mistreated me. Still others called me up and invited me to bar-be-ques that would be held in my honor. I received letters and note cards and little gift certificates from women who just wanted to tell me how lovely I was and how much I had helped them while I was there. They urged me to keep in touch with them and to let them know if I was going to be in the area and we “could do lunch” and just “catch up.”

So I have this fascination with girls. And women. I like looking at them – but they have to be a certain type. I don’t think anything turns me on more than self confidence, tenderness and . . . brilliance. I don’t entertain fantasies of fucking women. I know that people find that hard to believe – or I should say – I know that men find that hard to believe – but there it is. I don’t. I don’t get off on watching women fuck each other, either. I’ll watch – but I can’t ever sit there and masturbate – I just watch like I watch Hell’s Kitchen. It’s entertaining and a bit mystifying, really. But I could totally have a relationship with a girl. I would even sleep with a girl IF there was some sort of spiritual bond or something. It wouldn’t be about sex – but more like wanting to climb inside of her soul – and realizing that maybe if I placed my tongue on the most intimate of her parts I just might get there quicker.

I don’t know what made me write this entry. Well, maybe it is because I know that by not working at the gym and working with the women I was working with I’m giving up quite a bit. There was a sort of . . . community that was so drama free it was scary. We had stuff that went on due to management stuff and an occasional tiff or whatever – but overall – we would just bond together. Talk about our lives – children – school – boyfriends – husbands – recipes -politics – the latest movie and the last book we read. I’m going to miss that tremendously. And even though I plan on working out there and joining another gym with a few other women – it still just feels slightly different and I’m a bit scared that I’ll lose that part of me that felt confident and competent and able to stand tall among other women. I’m afraid I’ll start thinking like so many other women I see – who doubt that that type of honest, true, and just really tender relationship can exist.