And opinions have assholes. Oh, fine, Opinions ARE LIKE assholes. It just sounded better the way I put it, didn’t it?

Translation: Please don’t call me up and ask me jack shit about politics, religion, or money. I guess those are the smoking guns of conversations. There are a few exceptions to the rule, and I’m embarrassed to state one of the reasons, but for the sake of a post - let me just put it all out on the line. The exceptions are this:

1. If you really want to hear about my opinion on any of the aforementioned topics, please go ahead and ask me. It’s your dime. We can talk about abortion, the pope, ANDDDD McCain’s new running mate all nite for $1.87/minute. No problemo.
2. If you know me like the back of your hand, work for a certain politicians campaign (looks at RockStarBadAss and wonders how he’s doing…you have your work cut out for you, sweets. Make ‘mama’ proud!!) and want to dish about certain speeches, commercials and the like, then we can talk because we’re not going to argue. We can talk about abortion, the pope, ANNNNNNDDD McCain’s new running mate (who just looks like a woman who would have kinky F’n sex with her hubby, don’t she? That little Miriam Librarian Act doesn’t fool me for one minute! God Bless her kinky schoolmarm ass) all nite for, once again, $1.87/minute. No problemo. Hey, even I like to talk to people who think the same way I do, therefore making me feel that much better for my opinions. Sure, it’s nice to hear differing opinions but only so you can laugh hysterically at how absolutely fucked up “they” are for thinking the way “they” do, right!?

Any Questions? Good. Next topic of conversation.

I absolutely LOVE my English class. I love love love love it! I’m so jazzed with my teacher and I’m even happier that he has us keeping a journal for the class. Part of our grade will depend on our journal entries. Disappointingly I am unable to use these diary entries as that type of homework. I can’t even think of having him call up this line and doing a fantasy with him. How funny is that? Reminds me of another “brain” crush I had with someone a while ago (my very first ever brain crush, actually) and I felt the same way about him. There are those crushes that just make you kinda creeped out when you think of having sex with them. I don’t know how to explain it. I just wanna fuck his mind, I have no desire to fuck him like intercourse fuck him. Eeew. I’m pretty sure he’s gay anyway. I couldn’t even think to watching him fuck anyone else - it’s like our relationship has become sacred in less than 24 hours and I won’t allow even my kinky mind to soil it. *shrugs* I never said I was easy to understand. So anyway, as I was saying, my brain crush assigns writing exercises. He calls them “Free Writes” (nudge nudge Frisco!) and gives us 10 minutes to do them. Today I wrote about Pet Peeves. I wasn’t planning on sharing it - but I’m going to. So you know how my mind works and you will learn to revere it. Haha. Seriously kidding. You may run and hide. Or you’ll be highly entertained which is much more likely.

Keep in mind that these little exercises don’t really “care” about punctuation, spelling, or anything like that. So I am going to try to duplicate the writing exercise the way it is written in my journal. Here it goes:

I have several pet peeves. A lot of them. and honestly I do have A.D.D., so having a lot of choices really freaks me out. Freaks me out in that I don’t know what to focus on and so my mind just spins around and around out of control (where it stops? nobody knows). But I’m on medication so let me just focus for a moment. Ok. Pet peeve #1: I absolutely hate the fact that my family can not pick up after themselves. Ever. They leave all kinds of stuff laying (learned the proper use of that word today!) around. I can tell exactly how it happens, too:

They got up in the morning - probably late. They made toast - left the bread bag open. Put butter on the toast - left the butter out. Thought to themselves that Jam must sound good - dipped the knife into the jam haphazardly, spread it on their toast - oh, opps, some of it got on the counter - oh wait, I’ll make some eggs. I want some milk. I’m so late. And two hours later when I emerge from my haven of sleep and perfect order, BAMMMM!!! Their shit hits me in the face.

For next week I need to write another exercise. I’ll let you know how that goes and I may post it. I may not. This could get pretty intimate. Much more intimate than knowing who I plan on voting for and how I feel about gun control, Iraq, or even abortion. ‘Cause um - while all these things always mean so much at the time, they seriously aren’t as important to me as just what type of person you are and how you treat the people you love and how you demonstrate that you care about them. Fuck a “Party” - who are you? Seriously, who ARE you? Oh, and do you pick up after yourself. I could love anyone as long as they just pick up after themselves.

I’ll post my schedule some time this weekend. I’ll be up tonight for about 3 more hours hopefully. On Saturday I will be logged in during the late afternoon and again in the evening. Sunday we’ll play it by ear. Monday … um … haven’t thought ahead that far. I’ll keep you posted. Okay?

Talk soon.

I have so much to write about and nothing wants to come out. Or I won’t let it come out. Or something. I don’t know.

I feel that if I write anything right now it will truly be on some cryptic level, and there is nothing wrong with cryptic except everyone will wonder what exactly I’m talking about and it will seem like some juvenile cry for attention. Girls know what I am referring to. It’s that completely aggravating way some girls have of showing you they are distraught - the tears and sniffles and catches in their voice, but when you ask them what is wrong they look at you sideways and say so unconvincingly, “Nothing…” God - I wanna slap girls like that. Hard. I have no desire to be one of those cryptic losers - and yet I have nothing else inside of me that is fighting to get out right now except for that. And I can’t write a letter about it. I’ve done that. I can’t even vent to people about it because the people who I can vent to have already told me, in no uncertain terms, that I would be best to just let this all go and be happy.

And I am happy, by the way. Really happy. I have started school again, I am still smoke-free, I am so incredibly healthy and full of energy because of my pact to walk 10K miles every day (and yup - I did it! I actually averaged 11K steps last week. Go me!) and eat healthy, balanced, non processed meals. It’s a wonder how much better I feel after having started this new way of living. I also have been reading quite a few books about being present and living in the now which is a fancy way of saying don’t have regrets. All in all my life is going pretty damn good. I could complain, but what would be the point? Not to mention, I’m learning this year that nothing is perfect. You can never have a day that doesn’t hold some challenges - and life is all about how you deal with those challenges, those things that come up unexpectedly that threaten to steer you off course.

But I have a twinge of unhappiness. A lot of disappointment, actually. And I’m trying my best to figure out how to deal appropriately with it. I want to give myself permission to feel it, but I don’t want it to turn into bitterness and hatred as those things surprisingly do nothing to the person who you’re disappointed in - and do everything negative to you: tearing your insides up, keeping you up at night, giving you something to worry about, etc.

So that’s where I’m at on a personal level. Just thought I’d share.

In other news, Happy Birthday to Chris! I checked your comment to me and then looked back at my feedback and sure enough, there you were celebrating your birthday with me even back then. I’m happy to be one of your traditions. Have a very very happy birthday and good luck with that other thing that we were talking about. I’m sure you will have a lovely time (or else she’s a fool!)

I’m going to close up shop and head off to bed to write a bit of my story for writing group tomorrow. I will be on late tomorrow evening, but will do my best to log in a little bit before I leave for class. I have a lot of things to squeeze in before I leave for group, and it’s just nearing 3:00AM here now. Forgive me if I can’t log on any earlier than 11:30PM (or so). I’ll post a bit more about my schedule this weekend later today. Stay tuned.

Talk soon!

Yes. I am late. I of course don’t have any excuses really - I did one more thing - which led to ONE more thing - which then led to one more thing and pretty soon - it was no longer 5 more minutes before my shift started - it was 30 minutes AFTER it started. But I am here. And it is earlier than the 12 o’clock starts I’ve been fond of lately. Maybe tomorrow … nah. Sorry. LOL! I’ll probably be logging in around 10 tomorrow evening. I have a date (work out then dinner) with a few friends tomorrow evening. They have actual “real” jobs - so I have to go when they get off of work. Blame them. Wow - I’m really into the blame thing lately, aren’t I?

So … I’m about to start my entry that has been about 2 weeks coming. It’s about to happen. I’m sitting here right now - and it’s all coming together in my brain as I type. There are about 20 other things that are vying for my attention - but all those things can go to hell. I MAY get interrupted by a phone call but you shall never guess it as my prose will flow most eloquently with out so much of a hiccup. LOL!

See you in the next post…

The best laid plans of mice and … CeCe - often go astray, and yesterday was no exception! I had originally thought I would log in around 1:00PM and work my shift till about 6:00PM - but I was up late the night before and barely woke up around 10:00AM. Then I suddenly realized that my hours of operation would directly interfere with me running to my p.o. box, going to the bank, and doing all the other little things that would need to be done during business hours. So I logged out and ran my errands and logged back in - determined to work a little bit. As soon as I got all nice and settled in - I received a phone call telling me that my family was in from MN. So I had to log out and prepare for their arrival. As soon as my auntie and uncle and mom and dad were all settled in - I removed myself from the joyful family gathering to go to bed so that I could wake up and go to my Poli Sci class. But before I tucked myself in, I checked into NF to make sure I had not overlooked any emails. I found 2 people waiting very patiently for me to return. I decided to go ahead and log back in and take the calls - which resulted in my bedtime being delayed several hours. I was ok, though. I had 2 really terrifically long and intense and educational calls with Chris and Allen - and I was feeling a bit empowered…almost energetic. So I logged off, satisfied at having satisfied and been satisfied - and crawled into bed with my government book. I figured there really isn’t anything like reading about the constitution to put me into a coma. Not that I find my government class boring - on the contrary, it’s one of my most favorite classes this term (which may sound like a lop sided compliment being that I only have Biology to compare it to.) I stayed awake through all 30 pages of my reading assignment. And then I was a bit riled up. My brain had been ignited (lol!) and all this talk about Locke and his philosophies combined with the visual of the most brilliant of minds sitting together in a dark room in a Philadelphia building debating about how the constitution should be worded acted like some sort of high and sleep escaped me for several more hours. I finally passed out while watching Becoming Jane around 4:00AM. My class started at 8:00AM.

Thanks to several calls from Doc - I crawled out of bed around 7:00PM and drove my tired behind to class. Once in class, however, I was wide awake again. I was on fire! I knew all the answers the Professor fired my way - I debated about states power and the meaning behind the 3/5ths compromise. We discussed the theory of “democracy” and the reality of “republic” and 3 hours later I was on my way home to bed. Or so I thought. Jackson needed some attention, a walk, breakfast, and a belly rub (or 3), my Mother invited me to go work out with her and I could not pass up the opportunity to sweat, and then I found a pet store next to my home that carried Jackson’s brand of puppy food. While I was there I bought a brush. Then back home I decided to take Jackson for a little trot around the park. By this time it was now time to eat dinner. Then we had to check out the slides of snow in Minnesota. And by that time I realized that the nap idea that I had had earlier, that literally made me moist with excitement, was now pretty much just that … an idea. A fantasy. Like “democracy”. LOL! Oh - I forgot the bit about the glass of white wine that I had during dinner and pictures!

By the time Tiffy called me I was loopy. More than loopy I was in a strangely dominate state of mind. Tiffy’s little contributions to the conversation were not tolerated. I sweetly told Tiffy to shut the fuck up and pushed Tiffy into one of the kinkiest fantasies I could muster up … sort of while slurring my words and uttering 4 letter words like some petite sailor. “Get on your knees” I barked. “Did I ask you a question? I don’t want you speaking until I directly ask you a question, Tiffy!” I hardly recognized myself but the soft whimpers from Tiffy assured me that this new found personality of mine was very welcomed. At the very last “huff” I sighed and relaxed into my chair. I almost felt like I should have rubbed my hands together like some people do after a ‘job well done’. If Jackson had learned to pat my back in obedience school I surely would have ordered him to do so. I so deserved it. I had taken Tiffy - done with Tiffy what I wanted to - and would not allow Tiffy the satisfaction of even pleasing me in return. “Maybe in a day or so you can please me, Tiffy” I softly suggested. Tiffy could all but sigh and agree with my terms.

The wine was still combining with my lack of sleep and producing some sort of “silly” molecule as a result. I felt loopy. Free and easy. Finding some rather funny quotes of a particular leader I can not stand (Tiffy suggested that I keep politics off of my blog so I won’t mention this idiot by name. Besides, I’m too bushed to get into it all right now anyway), I started to read to Tiffy. What erupted out of our mouths was the kind of giggling that happens during church. Or during a lecture at school. The kinds of giggles that you try to hold in - only to have them burst out of you with that loud “BAHA!” type of laugh that is so not flattering or even cute. My stomach started to hurt - like really hurt. Tears starting rolling down my face at each quote I recited. Tiffy started responding to my laughter with giggles of his own which further fueled mine until we were gasping for air telling each other to “stop!” It was the type of laughter that can only be shared by those who really understand your sense of humor. The type of giggles that can only be infectious to those who find you utterly adorable. The kind of belly laugh that comes from not only whatever it is that is humorous - but the laughter at sharing it with the person who you feel so close to - intimate with.

It might be the wine. It may be the lack of sleep. It may be the hilarious blunders. It may be Tiffy. It may be one of the most hilarious sentences uttered after our steamy session (”I should have brought a towel.”) It probably is all of the above. But tonight I had the belly laughs of all belly laughs. And I just had to thank Tiffy for it.

I’ll be up for a little while longer. You may still catch me in my 1 glass of wine buzz I need sleep badly man my stomach hurts now moment. If you do not - no worries. I will be on tomorrow evening around 10:00PM. **edited 7:22PM 2/23/08** I have actually been logged on off and on since this afternoon and will be doing the same through out the evening. I’m juggling between homework, Jack, and company - so if you do not see me ‘available’ - set up an appointment. I will be logging out OFFICIALLY around 1:00AM Sunday morning. Talk with you soon! **end edit**

Don’t misunderestimate me!

So the gray skies really cleared up. Literally and figuratively! California’s “winter” consists of rain - and boy did it pour. Over the past few days (um - probably about 4 days in a row) California has been dowsed in a heavy duty layer of wet. If I was the kind of kid who believed that rain was God’s tears - I would seriously start packing up and contracting a local carpenter to build an ark. I’m not exactly sure how much rain actually fell on us - but it was significant. Jackson, now 89 percent potty trained (LOL! I like the looks of that - 89 percent…), suffered from a few set backs. One day I brought him inside with a towel draped over his head and his furry body tucked inside of my sweat shirt - placed him down on the floor for about 2 seconds too long and he proceeded to unleash a stream equal to the streams that gushed in the street gutters outside. Had he not peed this stream on a visitor I would have been impressed. Picking him up in mid-stream only soaked me and his little body and by the time I placed him on his potty pad reserved for rainy days - he was pretty empty and just looked up at me like - “um … was that really necessary?” The thunderstorms - or flood - or God’s tears - meant that Jackson would have to be entertained inside. It also meant no walks - no freedom - no smelling the pee and poo of other dogs in the neighborhood. It basically meant jail - and from that moment forth, Jackson organized and led his own revolt against the establishment (me.) He chewed thru an important media hub, he made a hole in his play pen, he barked and growled at my computer screen - especially when my browser pointed towards Niteflirt. He found a way to unzip (I’m not lying) his little bed I bought for him at Petsmart months ago - reach in with his little snout - and pull out every bit of foam in that “puppy” and distribute it all over my office floor. Not at all sated, Jackson then spent the remaining part of his sentence humping everything in site. Pillows, stuffed toys, my shoes, and his blankets were no longer safe and probably all have to attend some serious counseling to get over the trauma of a little furry marshmallow jack-hammering away. I’m sure if there was a tin cup around - Jackson would have found a way to run it across the “bars” of his prison cell…he was so not happy.

Jackson was not the only one who was suffering though. I found myself slowly slipping into this dreary rain induced coma. I had lots of projects to do - lots of new ideas to implement - but I could not find the energy to break thru the huge amount of code hell that poured down relentlessly around me. Um - not around me - ON me. With each project I felt that there was more and more and still more to accomplish. I was rowing along not so gently down the stream and I wasn’t getting anywhere. It wasn’t the type of depression really that I sometimes drift into around certain days - it was more about being frustrated. Overwhelmed. Fed - up.
So I called on a few people to help me out - some who were experiencing their own weather-causing hell - and some who really had no idea what to do to help me because I was so drenched I couldn’t even effectively communicate what exactly I needed! The AGONY!

A few days passed - and a few patches of sunlight managed to make an appearance before the rain proceeded - but I had some relief. But then before any rainbow could appear, the rains would come again.

Then Monday happened. Not a cloud in the sky. Blue skies - smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies. I don’t know what changed besides the weather - but I felt just the tiniest bit of … hope. I sat down - I discussed what I needed with SBJ, Tiffers, and Doc. I googled till I couldn’t google any more - and then I did something that amazes even me. I fuckin did it. Fuckin’ is so necessary right now. I downloaded the fuckin plug in - I uploaded the fuckin plug in - I read the directions backwards and forwards - promised endless blowjobs to Doc if he could help me figure out what the hell I was doing wrong to cause the damn fuckin thing to not load - and together we did it. We absolutely did it. I did it. It was my last minute ditch attempt to find a work around to something that hopefully eventually will be better - but for now it looks pretty damn good to me. This morning I woke up - ok, ok, ok - this AFTERNOON I woke up (I went to bed at 7:00AM - installing that fuckin plug in and talking to my callers in between - thank you ALL!!!) and sat down and started again. I found the damn RSS feed - though I am afraid to even mention it out of fear I’ll lose it again!, I found a website where I can upload my podcasts and where they will give my podcasts meaning (rss feeds, etc.), I uploaded and linked my voice samples to my listings (I maybe should have done 1 individual one per listing - but for now it’s set up as a play list - each time you push play it will cycle thru 3 voice samples… ), I worked out in between my accomplishments - took some more calls - redeemed 2 gift certificates for lovely presents on my wish list, received a pretty fricken terrific tribute from SBJ along with 3 cds (Free To Be You And Me, Carole King’s Tapestries, Carole King’s Greatest Hits), a dvd of FTBYAM, a book (FTBYAM), and a packet of about the loveliest pens EVER!, Vday chocolates and candy from Doc (he just knew I needed sustenance to continue on my hell-acious journey!) and several dozen calls from Tiffy (resulting in orgasmic bliss) to power me along. I realized as I jumped over hurdle after hurdle (once I got momentum that is) that I was actually now having a little bit of fun.

So I’m good. I have miraculously (well - thru drive, tears, sweat and many long pm’s and emails from my support staff - lol!) installed a plug in that will allow you all to listen to my podcasts - right here on the diary. I have also signed up for half a dozen pod communities where my show - YTWD - Come Dream With Me - will air proud and strong every Monday - starting Wednesday (lmfao) January 30, 2008. I did purchase the domain: YTWD Radio, which is still in the works. Eventually that will be the home for my podcast - but it is no longer detrimental/crucial. It will happen when it happens…

I will post the podcast to this very post after I have completely edited it. It’s running a bit long at the moment - but it might be due to the fact that I had to use 5 minutes to explain a whole lot about NF - not everyone who hears it will be a customer of mine - but here’s hoping (with in reason and time restraints) that many will be. Thank you to EVERYONE for helping me endure this mighty huge hurdle. A lot of you shouldered a lot of my anger, frustration, tears and sweat and I’m so damned relieved that I have something to fuckin’ show for it! Thank you SBJ (for the books, mic, pens, cds, gifts, etc!), Tiffers (for the coding support, shoulder, ear, pm box, cheers of elation when I succeeded, and presents - you know the ones I’m referring to!), Doc (for the candy, chocolates, cds, reading the directions slowly and carefully and making suggestions even though I snapped at you plenty of times for giving them to me, and for finally stumbling on the message board/comments where we found the one who helped me the most. What is his name, again? And yeah - I know I owe you blow jobs and sex for the rest of my life.), and even Rolf who managed to call me from Spain for a few minutes and briefly listened while enduring food poisoning to my woes and tribulations. And thank you Mama Tee. Even though you push me endlessly to be more independent and rely a bit more on my own resources and reading comprehension - I never really understood (or appreciated) how that would be valuable to me at times like this - when life and other circumstances render you unable to be at my beck and call. I learned a lot - as painful as it was - and while there is still so much more to learn, I feel that I can handle it. I still need you, you know - but at least I have a great appreciation for the things you have done for me - and a greater appreciation for the things I can accomplish when I’m pushed to the limit. You’re still my bff and I love you.

So to everyone who helped me thru yet another CeCe drama… This podcast is for you.