Non compliance

I take Meds-" why?" you may ask. " You seem so normal". My Meds help me fool all of you unsuspecting morons. If I don't take my Meds then heads would roll.
Don't get me wrong homicide is not a past time that I enjoy, but watching heads roll- the geyser of blood from the stump, the flailing arms of surprise and desperation would make me laugh. Decapitation would tickle my funny bone. Providing hours of memories on which I could ruminate.
Spinal trauma aside- the fact that you received retribution, and I was able to vindicate my cause, would be worth the dry cleaning bill.
If your being a meanie- off with your head.
You bump into me on the street like I'm invisible- Saturdays in Highland Park- off with your head.
Make a scene at my expense- off with your head.
Not give me the tender loving care I want and deserve- off with your head.
And I will do the Mexican hat dance around your fleetingly animated corpse.
Again I would enjoy this it would make me warm and tingly inside. I would experience an orgasm rivaled only by eating Crunch and Munch in bed while watching Lord of the Rings.
That is why I take my meds. That is why I comply with the protocol that has been prescribed to me by doctors.
So of course I seem normal- that was the plan. Be glad you can't effect me with your infantile observations, be glad you still have your head.
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Thank God it's Friday!

Friday, Friday, Friday! I couldn't be happier. For the first time in my life I'm glad I'm not doing anything this weekend.
In the past I would hate Fridays because it usually meant sitting alone in my house for 48 hours. Lamenting how no body loves me everyone hates me- gonna go eat worms.
Laying in bed as late as possible so I won't get hungry- cause it sucks cooking for one.
Tormenting my self with the memories of laying in bed with my ex- sharing the lazy weekend.
And now I am almost cured!
I love laying in the king sized bed- alone. And watching what I want on t.v.
Hovering in that space between sleep and awake, dreaming.
Today I love it.
The past few weekends have been filled with friends and fun- but honestly that shit can be exhausting. It's difficult to be "on" exciting and engaging. Its not like its a facade it's who I really am. But you would be exhausted if you were Me- no doubt.
Its not easy to live life- balls to the wall- full of gusto. I give a lot of energy in the daylight-
I wouldn't have it anyother way. It feels great to be included and liked. And I have sobriety to thank for that. I am excited to lay in bed all weekend shirking the mundane details, and I'm going to pray to God he doesn't allow guilt to motivate me to be constructive.
Enjoy your weekend I know I will enjoy mine!
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Relieve me of the obsession!

I am surrounded by so many interesting people and I get to do so many interesting things. So when I think about posting something in this blog, I am seldom at a loss for topics for pontification. The problem is that there are soo many topics on which to pontificate.

I started the blogging process with masturbation, followed it with a trip to jail- how do I top that?
With my favorite blight, Obsession.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is more than an amber fragrance. Its a mindset, a lifestyle, practically a posture. My current obsession is- everything. My favorite obsession is love and companionship.
What is it about loving, desiring, yearning for what don't have?
Millions of dollars, thinner thighs, nights spent arguing over who ate the last Mallowmar.

I dream and pray for God to bring me a partner, a companion. Someone who leaves the toilet seat up and the dishes in the sink; spraying them both with Lysol- cause Lysol cleans right?

A partner who realizes that laundry is a chore for mortals and knows that it's better to spend your money buying clothes than cleaning them.

Someone who knows there is no need for words when reality television can have all the really important conversations for you- hell it works even if your not in the same room.

So there's this guy, he has all the qualities necessary for a spouse: he's buff, hairless, square jaw, clear skin, smoldering eyes, juicy lips, hard ass, and arms that lead to a back rivaled only by Michelangelo's David.
The problem is he's flawed-
He wants to share his goals and ambitions with me; like having a family, planning for retirement, communicating so we can build a partnership on things like trust and respect.
Silly rabbit! Everyone knows that relationships are built on ice cream and sex

This dude wants me and won't leave me alone!  
I Obsess about how to get him out of my life day in and day out. I bad mouth his mother, eye fuck his friends and withhold sex and I still get text messages asking me about my day. Flowers delivered to my house on days like- my birthday. He wants to cook me dinner and take me  to concerts, plays and picnics under the stars. He actually had the nerve to pay my bills!
I really don't know what to do about this situation- my karma must be really wonky to bring a guy in my life who wants to grow old with me and trim my pubes.
Heck, nobody's perfect, and I am sure with time I can teach him how to treat me like crap and sleep with my friends. And if not, then I guess this is just another example of living life on life's terms. Accepting the things you cannot change, cultivating tolerance and patience for the things that bring you ire. I know that if I pray to accept this situation God will relieve me of this Obsession to dodge the bullet of security, comfort and adoration; hopefully making me content with being shot.
Or when the pain gets great enough I could change; I could become a lesbian.

Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Ones too many.....

Thank-you to my awesome friend Leigh for following my maiden voyage to Internet notoriety. She has informed me that; just like there is no crying in baseball, there are no rules to blogging. So I am sure to become a nuisance.
Today I had the opportunity to go to Middlesex County Correctional Facility and bring the "message" I am a recovering drunk and drug addict kicking ass in the 4th dimension!

At first when you go to the jail it's really creepy, the building looms in front of you and your realize how many rooms must be in a building like that and how many cameras are around to watch you pick your wedgies. Then it gets unsettling as the really hot guard takes your ID and demands that you take off your jacket- cause you can't bring that inside. You feel a little embarassed because part of you wants him to frisk you in a locked office, but not look at your chilly nips. But that feeling passes as he lets you through, leering with those bedroom eyes. You walk through the sliding door and watch him smirk as the door locks shut with the startling click buzzz of reality.
Every door in a jail locks. None of them unlock unless permission has been indicated.

Let us take a moment of silence for all the fugitives who ever busted out. Steve McQueen, Dustin Hoffman, Clint Eastwood, Sean Connery, Liam Nieson: The Next 6 Days, and A-team.

Then sadness strikes- as you watch inmates wearing clothes that look kinda regular, doing regular things; playing basket ball , shooting the shit, reading.
And you cant help thinking "wow these guys are just like me- but dumber cause they got caught!"

No, but seriously, it's kinda sad cause they are caught and stuck trying to live in really shitty situations. Forget about staying sober in jail, or a virgin for that matter. I have mad respect for anyone who has ever done jail time and stayed sober and sane. That person is indeed a rare bird. I think jail is one of those things that changes you forever, something that sinks deep into your soul, something that is remedied by a  lifetime of prayer, patience, and perseverance.- No more dating ex-cons


Anyway- I was really happy to see those ladies- but kinda pissed they were still there. I have been going there for 3 months and have done so many things, met soo many people, and been soo many different places. And these ladies are still where I left them! WTF!- and when  I talk to them I realize they really just made mistakes and do they really need to be in here for more than a week?

This is why I stay sober and bust my ass trying to work a decent and at times admirable program, so I don't end up like them. Trapped in a facility with hot leering guards, locked doors, unruly climate control, crazy bitches trying to steal my shit, and a system that regards me as a number.

Today I am more than a number and yet I am one amongst many. It's nice to not be releagated to the world of black and white. I love the gray, live in the gray, bask in the gray however the only thing that must remain black and white is that under no circumstance can I drink or do drugs.

I can handle anything sober. I've handled insanity,  loss, failure, pain, doubt, anger, fear, jealousy, hatred, rejection, the gamut of human failings and defects. And I am still cool as hell! Yes, I said cool as hell
because I am a sober woman of dignity and honor; a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets; eagerly sharing what I have so I can keep it; surrounding myself with people who remind me that waking up in the morning is  a good thing!


I pray for the ladies in jail that they get experience that feeling. That they know what it is like to feel protected, loved and proud of the pit and pratfalls of their lives. That is my prayer as I leave the edifice of corrections, as I run towards the door to the setting sun- ecstatic not  to stay, eager to return.

The first of many

Finally I have done it, started my blog and here it is.

At first I wondered who the hell would want to read/ take the time out and search for my thoughts on the internet? 

Then it hit me... Like a lightening bolt or a taser gun, who cares!

When I  thinks about a blog, it reminds me of masturbation, something I know very little about, but imagine it being therapeutically pointless. 

The Master, person writing, is in essence, Bating, pleasuring themselves.The difference between blogging and mastering bation is there are so many dimensions to blogging that- flying solo just can't reach. 

There is the Voyeuristic element, because you have invited all your friends/ family/ internet stalkers to witness your verbal fondling. 

The Sado-Masochist edge to all blogs- where you expose you underbelly just to have those same family/ friends/ internet stalkers comment on your thoughts, and criticize you poor spelling and bad grammar. 

And no foray into the world of carnal release could be complete without the feelings of Guilt and Shame following the big ONOOO. " I probably shouldn't have written that," " what will my mother say" or " I hope I have job after that last post". 

Writing my thoughts down on the internet may be a sorry substitute for the real thing but who am I kidding?! I am as self absorbed as any other red blooded American. 

And when you can't: 

get laid, 

find love,

make enough money, 

have enough time,

stick to your diet,

tell the truth,

hide out from your demons,

find your keys

or

drop kick that pain in the ass into next Wednesday, 

You can Always Tell the World- sooo Hold on to your Butts!