Skip to main content

Wednesday Weirdos:

So my brain needs some emptying. So prolly don't try to follow this as any train of thought.

Ever feel like someone's words can just strike you like lightning? Like they vaporize a part of you and the ashes are just a scar and every time you see them, that's what you feel?

I think women's shoulders are really sexy. At all ages too. And not floozy, trashy sexy. Sophisticated, timeless, classy sexy. Beautiful. Wrists sometimes too. Its not like tits or butts where its the obvious spot, you have to look for it. Being aware of their beauty.

I'm bad with question marks. I think them. I just forget to put them in the actual sentence.

I hate fake smiling. But I do it all the time. Before I started fake smiling women were always mean to me. If you have a pretty face and aren't overly ingratiating, you come off as a bitch/snob/snot/mean/whatever. It sucks. I'm pretty sure its often why I don't want to go anywhere after work. I don't feel like faking friendly anymore. But then, other times you fake it till you make it. And I know it has definetely worked to put me in a better mood. So I guess it all works out. Still...

I've been having really bizarre dreams lately. Ever notice how no matter how you spell bizarre, it looks wrong? Bizzare, bizar, bizzar. Why two rs? Anyway, I dreamt one night about a boy (currently a man) I grew up with. We were travelling all over a city tasting different tea flavored whiskeys. They were terrible until I got one that was iced tea flavored, but NOT sweetened. It was awesome. I haven't seen this guy in over 10 years. What the hell am I dreaming this for?

So then, I tell him about it on FB and he and I exchange some emails catching up on old neighborhood friends. Then, last night, I dream about one of those people. There was this girl who was married (think 19ish) and her husband and a bunch of us were friends. He was kind of a creep really. But very good looking. And very confident.

I'm pretty sure he slept with a couple of my friends. While married. To her. But I wasn't into that sort of thing. So she didn't hate me. But she did terrify me. I remember this story of them having rough sex that resulted in her scratching his back so badly that the sheets were stuck to his back and had to be showered off. I hadn't even had sex yet. Plus, she had a gun. Granted it was pink. But I opened their kitchen drawer and there it was. So yeah, terrifying.

You'd think I'd have steered clear, but I was stupid teenager and was fascinated by their strange life. So I hung out at their house and got drunk. At one point, I got this guy drunk and convinced him to let me give him a hair cut. He had long, gorgeous dark hair, but lots of split ends and I wanted to clean it up a bit. I'd never cut anyone's hair before. I tried using kitchen scissors. It didn't work out real well.

Another time, I think it was the time I found the Barbie gun, I was drinking at their house during a snow storm. I tried to climb on top of his Firebird which had one of those big obnoxious bird decals on the hood. I was determined to pee my name in the snow on the hood. I slid down the entire car with my pants around my ankles.

Anyway, upon catching up with my old friend. He tells me about what's going on with her these days. And I procede to dream that while Rob and I are decorating the lawn (which is weird in an of itself,) with christmas paper wrapped Elephants and horses and camels, she come tearing down the street, police in tow, and crashes in front of us. She gets out of the car, says "Hi, Karin," And tosses me her keys.
"I'm gonna get arrested now." She says aloud, then mouths that I should get the prescription drugs out of the car. There's half a bottle in it for me.

I'm excited about this. I get in the car. Rob gets in the car. Then I look in the rear view mirror and see that there's a cop laying in the backseat. Ummm. Now I know I can't go hunting for the rx meds. So I drive around the block under the guise of properly parking the car. When we get back, all the other cops are gone and the cop in the back is all "They left me." Which I think is hysterically funny and I make fun of the cop.

Then the fucking dog wakes me up so I don't get to find out what happens.

I also had a dream last night that involved going to an amusement park where a friend got all dolled up and insisted we go watch one of the shows. You know, the ones only grandparents want to go to. The ones that involve no splashing animals and no rides. Only dancing and clogs. My friend proceded to get up and take over the emcee's job. She did a great job.

Dreams are weird.

Comments

  1. HA! I just had to leave a comment (I feel like a creep for commenting on your life, please forgive me)to say your hilarious randomness is completely refreshing and I totally understand the thing about fake smiling. I feel like I have to be an introverted hermit for fear of being too fake with the constant smiling and nodding of the head (to act like I actually do care a coworker's pen broke or that the boss is being sexist). But anyway, nice blog! I feel like it's your stream of consciousness and it was awesome that I got to read it :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Book Pimp

So I wrote this book and I think it's pretty decent. That's the feedback I'm getting anyway, which is bitchin' really since I have a degree in Education, NOT writing. Plus, this is my first try, so really I should be happy, right? But, turns out writing the book is maybe the easy part. The publishing is another story. You have to find a Literary Agent. To do this, you have to write a 1-3 page letter to many literary agents to convince them to read a sample chapter. Send it with a Self addressed stamped envelope (SASE) and wait. there's more but I'm already experiencing a high level anxiety just writing about this part. In my letter, I'm supposed to explain who I am, what my book's about, why I'm qualified to write it, why its sicky illy good, who'll read it, and on and on. AHHHHHhhhhh! This shit scares me. Also, I'm supposed to be witty, clever, literary, and junk. Oh and explain a 300 page book in a sales pitch. I'm not a frea...

Home birth- The real fuckin deal

So the end of pregnancy is for the fuckin birds. I'm sure plenty of you out there know this. There's nothing to say but that you're sick of being pregnant. You're a little sick of the sweet smiles and knowing looks from strangers. You're just all over sick of it. You're spectacularly sick of the: when's your due date how far are you are you having a boy or a girl I bet you're sick of this what hospital are you going to, conversations. You miss when people used to ask about the soccer game you played or the book you're reading. You're sick of swollen handsfeetfaceneckanklesEVERYTHING. Oh and from the beginning of pregnancy until FRIDAY, I had NO stretch marks. Friday my entire lower abdomen erupted into one. giant. stretch mark. So all weekend, I thought, please let this be over soon. Every cramp I felt I welcomed and thought, "whatever work my body does now, it doesn't have to do during labor." Little did I know how much ...

Having Babies at Home

My whole life, I've heard the story of my cousin Anna's birth. And her sister's too. But I hear more about Anna's. My aunt didn't exactly have a lot of love for the medical profession. And her first baby had been a horrible experience. She'd had him wrenched from her at least as much as she "gave him up" for adoption by nursing staff who leered at her and called her unpleasant names. And she loved him when he was born. And she found him when he turned 18 and loved him till the day she died. When she had kids for keeps, she did it differently. She read books and assigned duties and had them at home. She was brave and surely faced many people who disagreed with her decision. But she stuck by her convictions and her desire for a natural birth and won 2 beautiful girls. My mom was there when Anna was born. So was her sister, Kristina. They both still get this sparkle in their eyes whenever they talk about it. My mom says it was one of the most ...