The greatest word in the English language (parental warning)

Fuck. I love the word. It's a beautiful word. It's short. It can be added to creating other beautiful meanings. It can enhance any experience (fucking awesome). It can emphasize a point(you are a fucking dillweed) Fuck is fucking brilliant. You can do so many things with fuck. Fuck has power. Fuck is sexy. Fuck is dirty. It's everything all at once. You can feel sexy, powerful, and dirty all at once...making it exactly like the true meaning of the word. Oh how I love fuck. There is simply nothing better than a well placed fuck, in every sense of that phrase. I would fuck fuck if I were a word. There's the whole exclamation when your pissed (FUCK!). There is the exclamation when you are in fucking Heaven (ohhhhhhh fuuuuuccccckkkkk). There is "fuck me," which can be used as an invitation, a demand, a statement in the heat of passion, or as a way to say that you are so far beyond screwed that the light from screwed would take 10 billion years to reach you.

Fuck is such an empowering word. I vow to use fuck every day in every way until we all learn to say fuck with pride and conviction.

Who's fucking with me?

In Hell

My 8 year old has been throwing words like hell and ass around lately. Now, I know what you are thinking...with a mother with a mouth like that, it's no wonder. I assure you that I don't use language like that around my children. My potty mouth is only used in adult company no where near tiny ears.

My little red head's fascination with cussing seems to have started about the same time I started letting him play with the neighborhood kids. My mother describes these children as "worldly." Yeah...whatever. Now my kid sits down at the computer and instead of looking up Chipmunk songs on You Tube or playing games on Cartoonnetwork.com, he looks up Elmo's Gotta Gun on You Tube...and a host of other horrifying things no 8 year old should be looking up. I monitor his Internet use...I half expected to walk into the room and find him watching porn this afternoon. God help me! Plus the little tramp that just moved in next door (11 years old) seems to have a crush on my 8 year old. She torments him...in that flirty, teasing sort of way. I was absolutely horrified to discover him in her house the other day. He is strictly forbidden from going into any of the neighbor's houses. That was the first time he's ever broken the rule. Clearly the little temptress is cunning. I thought I'd have a few more years before I had to worry about this sort of thing. Ugh!


So, impressing upon my little darling that that kind of language is unacceptable seems to be an uphill battle. He fell and scraped his arm today. So, he runs up and down the hallway sucking in and blowing out air a la Peter Griffin and yells "I'm in pain like I'm in hell!" He doesn't know pain just yet. But if he keeps throwing that word out, he will. Another shining example that he not only uses the word, but has that uncanny knack of using it at the most inappropriate of times...last week we met my in-laws for dinner. We sat at the table and the boy went under the table. I scooted over (thinking that he was going to the other side of the table) and accidentally kicked him. He screamed "OW!! What the hell?!" right as my in-laws walked up to the table. Yay! I'm so excited that my adorable little darling is honing his new vocabulary.


Okay...he's a straight A student. He's fucking brilliant. He's cute. He's absurdly intuitive for an 8 year old. But, he's not an adult. I joke that he's 8 going on 30. But he is really only 8. Only 8. Only 8!!!!!!!!! He's already asked me about sex. WTF?! That was a year ago. Help me!


I promise that nothing weird goes on in our house. Nothing nefarious. He's not up in the middle of the night watching Showtime or anything (I know because I'm up all hours of the night). But, surely, this can't be normal.


All of you that used to be 8 year old boys...let me hear from you. Is this normal? What did you think about when you were 8? I know I have friends that were geniuses (ummm...hello Valedictorian...I know you're here...GT students...Honors students...I know you come here because you are fascinated by the awesomeness that is me). Please tell me that your genius minds thought like this at 8 because I'm really starting to freak out here.

Weekend with Twilighters

The husband and I had a paranormal date night on Friday. We began the evening by heading to the Paraplex on Canal Blvd. We spent an hour or so wandering through the rooms of this 130 year old former mortuary. It was interesting. If you want to know more about the experience, please read the Paraplex entry on the other blog, Something Wicked This Way Comes.


After the Paraplex, we had a quick bite and then had daiquiri's. We were just killing time until 10pm when the Twilight DVD release party began at Borders. At least I was...I'm sure he was dreading it.


Picture it...Borders at 10pm. We walk in and I'm given the slip of paper that will allow me to get in line for the DVD at 11:30. Joy. Also, on the table in front of the woman handing this slip out is a host of Twilight-related stuff. I grabbed the GQ with Robert Pattinson gracing the cover, Nylon with Kristen Stewart on the cover, a Twilight calendar, and the Director's book about making the movie. I head upstairs to where the festivities are supposed to take place. I really was only here out of curiosity. On the second floor there were teens and tweens everywhere. A few parents mulled around. There were a few Twimoms (I had never actually seen one before that night). One Twimom actually brought her own life size cardboard cut out of Edward. I'm not kidding. I was embarassed for her...apparently she didn't have the sense to be embarrassed.


Around 10:20 the employees gathered everyone around and started asking trivia questions. I wasn't playing because...well, I think this means more to all those kids than it does to me. I turned to the husband at one point and told him that I felt like a jackass for even being there...this sent the 16 year old girl behind us into a fit of hysterical laughter. When the kids couldn't answer the questions I'd whisper the answers so whoever heard me first could get it. After a few minutes of this I went and sat downstairs in the cafe to wait for the actual DVD release.


I couldn't make it. I was so tired from not sleeping for days and from the daiquiri that I just paid for the few things I had and went home. Besides...the Borders only sold the 2-disc special edition DVD. I went to Target the next day and got the 3-disc special edition DVD. Yay.


So, bottom line...I felt like a huge jackass staying up just to watch a gaggle of teens and tweens go all gaga over Twilight. Team Edward shirts were everywhere.


On a side note...there was a rage filled moment when I was in the cafe trying to read my magazines when I almost beat the woman sitting across from me with her cell phone. She was droning on and on to whoever about all the kids there and how she was just here to see what it was all about and that there was all kinds of Twilight stuff for sale and she was going to get posters and blah blah blah. After about 20 mimutes of this...doin my deep breathing exercises, I decided that it would be safer if I just went ahead on home because this was not going to turn out well for anyone if I stayed.


The husband did cartwheels all the way to the door.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

While the rest of you fuckers are in the land of Nod, I am awake...again...at 2:30 in the fucking morning. I'm not sure why Robert Frost poems run through my head when I'm awake all hours of the night. It's bizarre. I wish my brain could find something more interesting to recite to me over and over besides Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening. Hell, even Fire and Ice would work better for me. But no...I gotta sit here and think about a freakin horse thinking it's queer to stop in the middle of fucking nowhere in the fucking snow with miles to go before I sleep.

Why do I know no one on Twitter? I am forced to try and guess which fake celebrity tweet may actually be the real celeb. Why? I can no longer function in the real world due to lack of sleep so I'm living vicariously through the nonsensical tweets of people I've never met and will never meet. I don't really care what they do, mind you. But their lives are much more interesting than mine. Besides, it gives me something to do when I'm not sleeping.

How long can a person go without sleep before her mind breaks? I think I'm on my way to finding out. I'm already not able to control my internal filter. I get filled with rage. So far, I have not physically harmed anyone. But I can't make any promises unless I get sleep...and soon. Oh my God! Sleep...you elusive bitch! When I find you, I am wrapping myself around you and clutching you to me as a lover.

I've been trying to write. There are bits of stories, bits of songs, and bits of poems running through my head, but my brain can't function enough to form them completely enough for paper.

Why am I being punished?

And miles to go before I sleep

Here I am...awake. It's midnight. Usually I am long asleep by now. Of course, I also wake several times every night for no good reason. By 4:30am I just give in and get the hell out of bed. It sucks. Last night I managed 3 hours of sleep before I woke up at 12:30 and lay there for the next couple of hours and gave myself a headache. The rest of my family is sleeping. I'm jealous.

It isn't that I'm not tired. Oh my God! I am so tired. But the moment my body hits the bed (or the sofa), I am wide awake. What the hell? I think this is how people go stark raving mad.

So that is why I am awake after midnight, drinking a Bud Light and listening to Eminem. Again...WTF?!!! Friggin sleepless nights making me crazier.

I'm on Twitter now! Joy! I so needed another medium to occupy my time. All these places to check to see if anyone sent me messages or whatever. It can be exhausting and so addictive. I may never sleep again. Not that a lot of people talk to me on any of these things. Why would they? The easiest way to describe me...B.O.R.I.N.G. or another way S.C.A.R.Y. Take your pick.

I used to keep up with the news and world events. But, I'm so fucking tired of hearing about how awful the economy is and speculating on when things when turn around and all these fucking companies getting all this taxpayer money and still doing business the same way that got them into trouble in the first place...and the war, and all that bullshit....I quit watching the news. I quit reading most of the news. I started keeping up with some entertainment news...just for something different. All it has done for me was solidify my hatred for all things paparazzi. They are not people and do not deserve the same rights as the rest of us. People that intrude on other people's private lives so maliciously should be beaten with their cameras, stomped into a bloody pile, nursed back to health, and then have battery cables attached to them at various points. The process should be repeated until those that were harassed are satisfied...no...it should just continuously be repeated.

AND...as long as we are talking crazy people....to every crazy obsessed fan of anyone...I'm talking the show up wherever the celebrity of choice is/hang outside of the celebrity's house or hotel/grabbing on them/spitting on them/yelling at them/calling them by the character's name crazy bullshit.....GET A LIFE! Frick. You and the paparazzi suck the life and enjoyment out of everything. Let them be. They probably don't mind a "Hello. Good to meet you. You were great in...." But then walk the fuck away. I understand the longing to get to know someone better, but fuck. If they WANT to spend more time with you...they'll invite you to join them. Don't make a fucking spectacle of yourself.

Now that both of you (my followers) have read this...I expect that you will adhere to the rules set forth.

Bite me...and remember...I haven't slept in days. So suck it if you don't understand.

Fame!

I've given it a lot of thought. And, by a lot of thought I mean...I've stopped doing anything for my family, I toss some food at the kids occasionally (only to keep the authorities from finding things to prosecute me for), stopped watching television, stopped cleaning the house...and I only go to work because I couldn't post this if I didn't have electricity.

So...given a lot of thought and I really think that I would totally rock as a famous person. Now...I must find something to be famous for. Hmmmm....any suggestions? I mean apparently you can be famous for just about anything...getting pregnant, trying to stab someone with a slotted spoon, walking naked along a rail line carrying a jelly donut. Literally anything...so what should I do?

I could act. I think I would love being an actor. Except I am petrified of the thought. I've been on stage in front of hundreds of people before and did just fine. I've sung, I've danced. I've played piano for crowds. I think I may have acted somewhere at some point (although, my memory...oh my poor memory). If I could get over the fright of having a bunch of people standing around with lights trained on me and having to do a scene, I think I could BE SOMEBODY!

How does a person audition? I would probably just die of a heart attack on the spot. Think of it like...dating. You see someone you are interested in...you work yourself into a complete fucking crazy person trying to think of some way to make that person like you enough to give you a chance. You go on your first date and...you are so nervous you say inappropriate things, sweat so profusely that they are sure you have a medical problem...probably drink too much because you're nervous...and then puke all over him/her. Then when they tell you that it's just not going to work out, you wonder what you did wrong and why will no one like you? Why me, God?! Why? Or better yet...they don't ever call you again and you are left hanging. Audition. It sounds like such a dirty word. There are people watching you, trying to decide if your look is right (or could be made to look right), if your voice is right, if your mannerisms are right, if you have that "hotness" that all the studios are looking for...basically, it's a meat market...are you the right cut.

So, is it fame that I'm craving? Not so much. I have anger issues and doubt that I would be able to control myself if a life sucking prick followed me into a store and snapped pictures of me buying tampons. Seriously...the next series of pictures would show me lunging for the guy's eyes with the above mentioned slotted spoon. So, maybe not fame...although, fame does tend to bring more work...so I guess I'd have to suck it up and take the bad with the incredibly fucking awesome.

Could I be a studio trained media whore, though? I'm not so sure. I know that I would be contractually obligated to be seen and say certain things "I loved working with so and so, " "The whole cast is like my family," "This movie is truly a work of art." How often do you hear actors saying..."This movie is crap. These people suck. I hope they all die a slow, painful death. Seriously, that bitch may have a smoking hot body, but she can't form a sentence...or read one." To me, THAT would make a great interview. Okay...so you don't get to work with those people again and there might be lawsuits...but you'd at least be interesting. I would be too tempted to mess with interviewers and give random information about nothing having to do with anything.

Oh my God. The fun I would have. Now...can anyone give me any ideas as to how to get over my fears of auditioning? And where to get an agent? And perhaps a hit man, because I don't handle rejection or criticism well? Anyone?

If I had it to do over again...

I would travel the world

I would have more lovers

I would have more friends

I would have fewer steady boyfriends (none would work fine for me...they were all asshats)

I would climb mountains

I would swim with dolphins....and sharks

I would sky dive

I would never take no for an answer

I would be a happier young adult

I would live for me

I would have recorded an album/CD (only need the one...don't care if anyone ever buys it)

I would read more books (not sure how this would have been possible...always an avid reader)

I would not care what people thought (when I was younger...I don't care now...they can all bite me)

I would be in much better physical shape

I would run marathons

I would run with the bulls

I would learn many languages

I would never stop playing the piano

I would never bend to someone else (see bite me above)

I would never spend more than I have

I would publish my poetry

I would be in a movie (preferably a good movie)

Let's face it...if I had it to do over again....there is very little that I wouldn't do

And...I'm starting now.

I'm really much too young to matriculate

Okay. I'm 38. I'm married. I'm a parent. I'm a homeowner. I have a full time job that doesn't involve my children. I get it. Not your typical college student. Well, these days, I guess I kind of am since EVERYONE and their grandmother seems to be heading back to class. But, I feel young. I feel like I'm in my early to mid 20's. I feel like I could even head back to high school. High school would be preferable to statistics.

Statistics...it sucks hard. It's frying my brain. Every moment I spend with these stupid little symbols and sample standard variances and unions and intersections make me age another 6 months. I should be 925 years old by the end of the semester. Oh good. Then I can fulfill that lifelong dream of marrying Yoda. Stupid Star Wars Wii game that my son has been playing relentlessly for 2 straight days.

Who came up with this crap? Was adding and subtracting and multiplying not enough for them? Was someone sitting around truly bored one day and decided...lemme come up with some new and horrifying ways to torment people. Hell...I could have come up with better and more rewarding ways to torture people than this. So...my brain dies a slow and painful death because some jerkoff decided that basic math wasn't enough to explain the world. Ooooo. Do you think this guy died happy? He couldn't have had a very satifying sex life because hell, I would have at least been doing that instead of inventing new math. I think falling from a moving truck and getting my arm snagged in the window of a passing car and dragging me 15 blocks before running over my torso and then being eaten alive by a pack of wolves would have made for a much more interesting death than being made to absorb this crap until my brain protests and shuts down.

Suck it, suck it, suck it you stupid statistics creating asshole! I hope you rot in hell!