I hate a lot of things and here’s a short list:

People who talk on their cell phones while they’re driving.
People who talk on their cell phones out in public like they are in a private place.
People who Nextel each other in public over the speakers.
I just hate phones all together.
I hate chatting on the phone.
Small talk.
People who ask me “How are you?” and don’t wait for an answer.
People who leave their dogs outside at night.
People that don’t say their name and phone number clearly when leaving a message.
People that can’t say what they want specifically in their voice mail messages to me.
Junk mail.
Junk email, especially for male enhancement products.
Grey days.
Taking out the garbage.
Sorting laundry.
Going to work every single day.
Not winning the lottery (Please Lord…let me prove to you that winning the lottery won’t spoil me.)
Dusting.
Not being able to remember names.
Employees in stores, banks, etc. that chat with each other while I’m waiting for service.
Coats.
Brown.
Purple.
Knats.
Exercise. (But I like long, solitary walks.)
Big parties.
Margarine (Butter is better.)
People that ask my opinion of something and then tell me I’m wrong.
People that preach their religion to me.
When I’m mean to someone.
When I don’t control my smart-aleck mouth.
When people think I’m giving them mean looks and I’m just thinking about something else.
That I can’t tell a decent joke.
People that drive too close behind me (I like to slam on my brakes to see how good their reactions are.)
Shoes.
Shopping.
Salespeople.
People that use the last of anything without having the common fuckin’ decency to replace or refill. (Toilet paper and soap are biggies.)
People that have to fill ever itty bitty little aural space with the sound of their own voice. SHUT UP!
People who drive down the street at 3am with the base in their car so loud my house starts vibrating two blocks away.
People who drive up to someone’s house and beep the horn instead of getting off of their lazy ass and go to the door.
Car alarms (Never a more useless and annoying invention.)

I could go on and on and on, but you can see I pretty much hate everything and everyone.

"When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge." – Tuli Kupferberg

It’s funny to me and not in a ha ha sort of way, how everyone wants what they don’t have. I’m so bored, I could spit toothpicks. I feel like something is missing and I don’t really know what it is. The problem is that I’m in a rut and everything I think of doing just seems like it will be another chore to add to the long list of the same things I do day in and day out.

I think I need to get out and go to a bar. I used to go out a lot in my younger days. I haven’t really gone out to a bar in like 9 (ugh!) years. Why you might ask? Well, I’ll tell you. I did it so much before that I started hearing the same conversations regardless of where I went and it wasn’t even from the same people, although the same faces did show up many times. Then, since I’m not much of a professional drinker, I get drunk easily and have to learn the art of always having a tall glass of ice water on hand to space between my G & T’s. And then, the truly pathetic reason is that I hate to give up the next day to a hangover. I spend all of the next day on a major guilt trip over what I’m not doing because I over-indulged the night before.

But, I think I’m really on to something here. There is nothing as entertaining as watching a bunch of drunks and of course the drunker you get, the funnier they seem. Plus, I don’t know about you, but the drunker I get, the wittier I am.

So, tonight, I will tell my husband that one night this week he is going to have to give up his male sanctuary and allow (I’ll tell you another time, it’s not as barbaric as it sounds and you feminists out there don’t get bent out of shape) me to invade his bar so I can get wrecked and stagger home. I need to break some patterns.

Letter to Santa (for grown ups)

http://members.aol.com/
frogiearno/dearsanta.htm

June sat alone in the back corner of the dark empty attic room. She stopped screaming and banging on the door fifteen minutes ago. Her eyes failed to adjust to the light in the room because no light showed itself. The black weighed on her and enveloped her, choking sobs from her cold and shivering body. She covered her ears to block the sound of silence that attacked her mind. Her back maintained contact with the stone wall and her butt and thighs pressed into the stone floor, keeping her grounded in sanity.

June’s stomach began talking to her. It gurgled, rumbled and complained about its empty, lonely state. It tightened and twisted, creating an agitation in other areas of her body. The sole of her feet tingled and her hands itched. June scratched first one palm then the other and the itch moved to her elbows. It crawled up her arms, neck and sides of her face and lodged in her scalp. She scratched at her head until she felt a dampness under her fingernails. And she cried.

She sobbed, great heaves, loud, frustrated wails. Her lament echoed and bounced around the empty walls, running back to her in panicked gallops that slammed into her eardrums and silenced her. She sucked in a huge gulp of air, held it and blew it out in a slow streaming whistle.

Her hands felt their way up the walls and her body followed, until she stood. She pressed a hot cheek against the ancient cool stone. She read her way around the room, back to the door. Nothing blocked her path. She used her fists to pound on the door. She pulled and twisted the handle and fell back on her ass as it swung open on her. A halo of bright light shining around a dark figure blinded her and she covered her eyes.

"Is there a problem?"

SUV’s

I hate SUV’s. You know, the Suburbanites’ Ultimate Validation. It snowed here today and because of Mother Nature, I have to be tortured by soccer Moms on SUV steroids. They drive where they want, as fast as they want, without any regard for the people around them. I don’t think they even see anyone else.

There was ice and snow mixed with rain, which started to freeze and this bimbo, Martha Stewart-wanna-be, didn’t know that no matter how big your truck is, 4-wheel drive doesn’t work on ice. But no worries, so she hit someone. Ran right up the ass of the car in front of her. She slid-slided away right into a young girl who was on her way to work. Martha charged from her vehicle, yelling down at this poor child, screaming that it was her fault she got hit because she was in the way. Madam apparently had an appointment with her manicurist, and now she would be late.

You should have seen her face when the police officer handed her a ticket for following too close and reckless driving for the road and weather conditions. She turned purple when the officer told her the young girl wasn’t getting any ticket at all. Some obviously jealous people in economy cars must have told the policeman how aggressively HumV lady was driving.

Just as I’m writing this, a news story is on about an SUV that ran into the house of a family with 3 kids this morning. The driver killed both parents by landing his truck on top their bed while they were sleeping. Granted, other factors were involved too, but SUV’s are evil. Satan’s Ugly Vice. Oh, I’m sorry, SUV’s are like guns, they don’t kill, people do.

"Man must be arched and buttressed from within, else the temple wavers to dust." – Marcus Aurelius

I love these sayings. Little bits of wisdom meant to help us on our way. They all contain a kernel of truth. The only thing is, they make me nuts because they don’t really tell you any thing of value, like this one. Yeah, I know I should be friggin’ buttressed from within, but how the hell do I build it. I know all about doing the positive talk thing and I guess that’s what old Markie Marc means, but then again I’m not sure. And that’s my point right there. Did Marcus Aurelius have complete certitude in his righteousness? Did he have the internal dialogue that I always have?
I hear my mother’s voice point out every little indiscretion, dust speck on my coffee table, fur ball in the corner, wrinkled shirt, the fact that I never became President of the US, that I didn’t marry anyone but the one I did marry, that my daughter is not girly enough, that I’m just not ever right. How the fuck do you maintain a buttress against that tide of negativity? I get worn out just getting out of bed some times. It takes real work to be satisfied with my life and me. And I am generally happy, but I often think in a superficial way. I feel damaged at my core, with my temple crashing around my ears. I want to be arched and buttressed, but how do I begin building amongst the rubble. Where do I start and how do I keep going when I lose heart?

My Space

I was in the checkout line today at a popular convenience store, getting a nutritious hotdog and rice pudding for lunch. At first, I was the only person in line. Then, a woman purchasing a gallon of milk came into line before I was done with my transaction. I moved over slightly to give her counter room to put her gallon of milk down so she wouldn’t freeze her fingers off (I’m thoughtful that way.) We had the proper amount of space around ourselves, no auras infringing on each other. But, she moved over closer to me. I still wasn’t done my transaction, so by rights I should have been allowed the open space next to the register, but I moved over again anyway, because she was practically up my butt. Well, the dumb bitch moved over closer to me again. So, now I’m like, “What the hell’s going on here? Hasn’t this woman heard about personal space [me drawing a sphere around myself in the air]?” Again I move. This time I move in front of the register, almost out the door. I still don’t have my change. And what happens? She actually nudges me with her elbow and I swear she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, with a little shit eatin’ grin on her face. I have visions of a major blood bath, her entrails strewn across the aisles, limbs torn off and tossed in the sandwich case. I just take my hotdog and go.

Celebrating Men

Today is December 1st and it’s the start of the Holiday Season.

The sun shines bright and low, getting right in your face so you know he’s there. You have to struggle against the rays to see properly when you’re driving. The crisp air invigorates you as you step out the door, slapping the sleep out of your eyes.

This is the essence of men, boundless energy bursting for release. An erect, throbbing penis, seconds before ejaculation. Men are the impetus, the drive, and the pounding need of creation.

At this time of year, we should take the time to celebrate the men in our lives. They are suppressed, belittled, confined and driven to dampen their urges so much of the time that we have emasculated men, thus causing so much useless destruction. Thank the men in your lives for the things they do, which are so often the dirty jobs, like taking out the garbage. Let them watch football without nagging, look the other way when they scratch themselves, let them be men without making them feel bad about it. They do so much for us: our young men in all branches of the military, my dad who rocks his new great-grandson to sleep in his arms, my husband that cooks dinner every night, my brother the firefighter, our neighbor that watches our house when we’re away, the young man that holds the door open fro me at the store, the stranger that gives up his seat and that penetrating look from your co-worker that makes your blood race.

Now is the time to wallow in the darkness leading up to the Winter Solstice. The days are getting longer and the nights are getting colder. Use the next few weeks to allow the absence of light to cleanse your soul; sweep out the cobwebs, empty the debris of the past year. Instead of turning on all of the lights in the house, light a few candles and watch the flickering shadows dance a long the walls. Reminisce about years gone by, how things are different, how they’ll never be the same. Cry your sorrows deep into your pillow and sob for the losses you have suffered. Take a hint from our ancestors and live the darkness instead of fighting against it.

Then, on the day The Son/Sun is reborn you can rejoice at the coming of The Redeemer, The Savior, The Bringer of New Life, and The Great Male Power of Surging Energy. You can celebrate the great driving force of all life to keep surviving despite all of the odds, the need to procreate in all its forms and the simple joy of a new sunrise and the coming of spring.