positively absolutely

Listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, on vinyl, sipping from a glass full of vodka and seltzer, folding laundry, baking a pumpkin cheesecake, gorging on green curry with shrimp take-out, my mind on exes and where we all went wrong, wanting a chocolate milkshake, watching some shadow float across the ceiling, communing with the ghost of death in my house, slipping into sweet sleep to dream about the dead and wake to still be living.

Five years, Mr. Bowie  

And I thought of Ma, And I wanted to get back there, your face, your race, the way that you talk, I kiss you, you're beautiful, I want you to walk, 

Seems I'm always in a mood to jot things down on Sunday nights.  Yeeeeaaaah.  Sunday nights are when I categorize my upcoming week into things to be accomplished, things to bunk off, time to waste, time to not waste....bills to pay, bills to not pay

stuck to my eyes, five years

what a surprise

we've got five years, my brain hurts a lot

five years, that's all we've got, we've got five years

one month has disappeared into a new season.

Seasons affect me differently, time marked, denigrated in a whole new way.  I don't enjoy this "new way" that I've developed.
I get into this periods where I just want to be that saxophone scream, to be my voice out there, the metallic screech so un-decipherable, so understandable.  
SCREAM into nothingness and hope that some echo returns to me that means something, anything.


All I have is my love of love...
and love is not loving

But really, I'm just waiting for a new person to thrill me to my fingertips, make things not boring, and all the men I know are B-O-R-I-N-G.  With their jobs and their fake little suburban lives, be different do something...just change your life.  I am also boring, but at least I own it.

freak out, far out, in out

Watched a soccer game today, and it's just pointless running around on a field, kicking a ball into what???  some goal??  to win?  Like football what the...?  But it's this euphemism for life, right?  The game.  Oh well, I guess I just don't want to be bothered by the bull shit.

Let all the children boogie

So rip open my heart again, do it. Make me think for once, why, don't I just do whatever the hell I want.  But I'm going too...I am.  


Well all the people have got their problems, that ain't nothing new with the help of the good Lord we can all pull through

Please, have my abortion.

I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey

I'm thinking about your tight pants life, how I make them tighter.  Walk, tightrope walking, carnivals, circus, open eyes, massive elephants hitting the ceiling...representatives.

I could fall asleep at night as a rock and roll star, I could fall in love all right as a rock and roll star

Right, so who's going to understand this BS?  I certainly do NOT.  Royalties, jokes, writing about sex, not getting sex, creepy old men, watching young girls without a clue.  They called out to me once, thank god I'm smarter than that. 


Well, she's a tongue twisting storm

 I enjoy the storm, causing a twist with my tongue, people don't know what to think.  Offend me.  Tell me how awful I have become.  Because I don't give a damn.  

Ziggy played guitar

Doesn't everybody?


 Ohh, wham bam thank you ma'm

Oh boy, do I need to say that to be a real non-pinocchio man? Make sense though of what others think each day, holy shit have I become redundant?  I meant to offend. Be honest.  Truth is all that matters.  Pull away that band-aid on the trophy kids and white fenced manicured lawns, be naked and unafraid.  



Oh no love! you're not alone
You're watching yourself but you're too unfair
You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care
Oh no love! you're not alone
No matter what or who you've been
No matter when or where you've seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain

You're not alone 

Just turn on with me and you're not alone 
Let's turn on with me and you're not alone
Let's turn on and be not alone



I have given up on love and I don't know if that just makes me sad or what.

K. West does not equal Quest.  

Gimme your hands cause you're wonderful 
Oh gimme your hands.

Alright

Thought I'd give you my...life.
To take and hold til death, we go wrong, but You're the posion that runs, the sting, creeping insecto bite the web of, sink those rotten teeth in until the pleasure pulses through my thighs.

So, here. we. be. 

Wanting. Hiding from a piece of peace?
a lover of all we, don't you know
you tore me apart, tearing me still. this shit, this fuck
this fucked. 
        Up. 
                    Shit.

Taunt me, haunt me, oh spectre
erected ghost, come and
fuck me in the night half sleeping 'til we are
good, spent apes for each other. Those other
bites. Grand ole home, in the hole other place brighten
the blight of this be-speckled soul.

When you're in it, you don't know you are, until you're not. If you think you
are then no, I say.

You stalking vicious prowler, our

love is just fucked.

Jiminy Cricket!!!! In My House!!

There's a cricket in my house.

I first heard it behind my living room sofa while I was writing my last blog post.  Now as I sat down on a different sofa to write another blog, there is lil Ling-Ling chirping away(I named him/her Ling-Ling)

I mean do I believe in signs?  A cricket in the house is considered "good luck" and goshdarnit!!  I need some good luck.  Ling-Ling stays.

NO not THAT cricket!

But this kind....

I wonder if Ling-Ling breaks some bread with my cats while I'm at work, but more likely they just try to eat him.

On another wholly unrelated topic....

How many of you out there suffer from the same sickness as I do?  RHBS???  AkA Raging-Hormonal-Bitch-Syndrome.  Yeah for me it's mainly the hormonal crap...making me eat chocolate(dark chocolate with peppermint) and bacon cheeseburgers from Wendy's while I'm on new eating plan.  Right, that's right I did NOT say diet, I said eating plan.  This eating plan does not include chocolate or bacon cheeseburgers, and I've lost six pounds already but after this past week of RHBS, I've gained back three of those pounds.  But I've been trying to consistently do 100 squats although the past couple days it's been more like 75 of those puppies.

More about this RHBS thing.  It hits me ever other month or so right before Antietam week.  The thing is, I've tried so many different things to try to control my RHBS.  Antidepressants, natural supplements, BC pills, yoga, acupuncture, chiropractic, meditation...but honestly nothing seems to really work long term.

  RHBS brings about crazy thoughts of hysterectomies and freezing my eggs.  I alternate between wanting a body to cuddle with to not wanting to be touched.

And I've learned that there is no cure for my RHBS.  I just have to embrace the insanity and know once I've got the BUS(bleeding uterus syndrome) my RHBS will subside and I will be sweet like a slow loris.  (I was going to say a wee kitten, but kittens aren't always sweet, they've got sharp claws.)  But at least I've still go my sense of humor...NOW BACK OFF!!!

TROOFS.

Not a Real Jersey Girl???

OKAY...so what the...

Fact 1. I was born in West Orange, New Jersey.
Fact 2. New Jersey has been my only legal state of residence.
Fact 3. Up until this past week I had never actually watched an episode of The Sopranos.

Yeah...isn't that almost like saying I don't like Taylor Ham or Pepperoni Pizza???  Maybe not.

Of course I know the storyline of this show, how could I not?  I even know a few of the places where it was a filmed throughout my state, but I just never watched it.  Probably, because I'm not into hype.

Now, Amazon Prime has all the seasons (thanks brother) and I'm hooked. Aside from being filmed in NJ it has been lauded as the best television show EVER by multiple people.  Google pulls up multiple recent articles--people are STILL talking about this show, hey I'm talking about it right now.

I laughed when two mobsters go into a Starbucks type establishment and one says,

"An espresso" and the other says,

"I just want some regular coffee."

"What we have today is New Zealand Peaberry." Says the cashier.

So they order an espresso and one-a-doze and it cost $4.25.  Seems expensive even for 1999.

Ah the goldchains, wife beaters, track suit jackets, homophobia, loaves of bread and Virgin Marys on the front yards...the sassy nj kid attitude. Hey who wouldn't love having an Uncle Pussy who fixes car?  

I'm only a few episodes into Season One and what catches me is how dated this show is now.  It was so fresh back in the early 00's along with that other (in)famous HBO rag--SATC.  The Soprano home today would be in need of a makeover, no more brass fixtures, light pink-beige cupboards and puffy valances.  It's stylized like Mad Men.  Millenium style. Except it was actually the time period it features.


And it got me thinking about the days pre September 11, 2001.  How those days now live in my memory as such a hopeful time, a brief moment of a new century, then dashed to what???
 A Post-post-modern tale of fear, anxiety, war, recession and who knows or even cares...
How The Sopranos caught that pre-moment then the disillusionment following...and maybe that is exactly what made it such a good show...or the writing/acting.  Maybe it is New Jersey a diverse and insane state, full of multiple paradoxes, Tony Soprano could be a representative of the state itself.



So bring over the antipast and be a real Jersey girl wid me, I'll do my best to whip up some gabagool!(I don't even know what that is, had to GABAgoogle it!) HA.

RIP Mr. Gandolfini