Must. Be. Fried.

a little stressed
things are unorganized
can't find the freakin' felt pads for the table legs
have more crap than carter's got pills
still hangin' in limbo
with no place to eat

need many personal assistants
and a team of carpenters/painters
a nanny
a cook
a housekeeper

damn!!!
forgot to play lotto

must have a plan
must commit it to paper
must make it happen

need to feel settled
need to feel comfort
need the list to be complete
need organization for the sake of sanity

need to go buy some more flippin' felt pads

and a lotto ticket

give me lucky numbers

She's Safe!!

They found the baby safe and sound!
Just a few miles from her home.
The abductor was a woman who recently miscarried.
She tried using make-up to hide the birthmark on the baby's forehead.
Her sister-in-law was driving her to the pediatricians office and noticed the make-up.
She called police.

I don't know what it is with these women. Why are they so empty they resort to such unbelievable things?

The ONLY redeeming aspect to a crime like this, is you know the crazy person is loving that baby. You know they were so desperate in the first place that they are cherishing the baby. I know that's a twisted perspective, but it's the only thing I can think of to keep from crying.

Anyway, happy ending on this one folks! Breathing easier for now. Night!

Amber Alert!!!

"Sometimes when I'm feeling sad or lonely, I'll have a snack, like a brownie or a cupcake, and it makes me feel better. I don't think that's such a big deal, because I know a lot of women who, when they're feeling sad or lonely, will have a baby." - Jessica Delfino, songstress

When I read this, I thought it was the funniest thing. Sad & true, but funny.

HOWEVER, there is something really sick happening in this area of the states in which I live. Lonely women aren't having babies, they're STEALING them! It has happenend again. A couple of days ago, a woman broke into a house, held the mother at gunpoint, slashed her throat, and stole her 9 day old baby girl! A one year old boy was untouched, and the mother survived, but her baby is gone! Imagine that for a moment. Complete helplessness. Your innocent, helpless, newborn out there in the world with someone you don't know. Can you wrap your mind around the pain? It's unbelievable.

Nearly two years ago, a woman murdered a woman eight months pregnant and cut her baby from her womb. She then drove to a Burger King, called her husband, and told him she had given birth in the bathroom there.

A year before that, another woman drove to a small town, walked into a house and walked out with a 2 month old baby boy. She lived here in town and was too stupid to know the physical differences between a newborn and a 2 month old. Her co-workers called the police.

So the profile for this abductor is the same. An overweight, unattractive woman, who has been telling others she is pregnant. She, in fact, is not pregnant, either because she is unable to be, or because she has been pretending to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't exist.

Regardless, she's sick. Sick, sick, sick.

Keep your eyes open for this baby. Let's try and get her with her family.

We Have Established Contact!

I found Creston.

And as with all things good, time hadn't spoiled a thing.

I didn't tell him about the previous post; didn't need to.

But I found him again, and that makes me happy.

He's good people.

He's one of my people.

Good ju-ju!

20 Minutes To Salvation

We sat in the back, up against the wall at one of those tall tables on stools. I sucked down a Marlboro Light and drank something non-alcoholic. My friend sat to my left. He was 50-something, I think.

In the far corner to my left was a woman in her mid-30's. Her boobs had been naturally deflated by nursing someone. Her hips were wide and her back side was losing it's battle with gravity. She looked tired, and worn.

On the platform to my right was a twenty-something with fully inflated and paid-for boobs. She was in white, with a long white chiffon cape that clasped around her neck in a band of what appeared to be velvet. At her feet were roughly 15 men gawking at her. She absorbed every predatory look. Somehow, it appeared to give her power.

"Have you seen enough?", my friend asked.
"Yea, I think so.", I replied.

Earlier that day, I had been on the phone with my friend.
"I have to get a job. And I was looking in the paper and I think I'm gonna dance at a strip club."
"Have you ever been in one of those places?"
"No."
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Nothin', why?"
"I'm going to take you to one."
"Okay!"

So, sometime that evening I climbed into my friends car and headed to the club. I walked in the door with the full intent of asking for a job when I left. We paid our admission, had our obligatory drink, and left. And when I walked out I didn't say anything to the man behind the counter.

"So, what did ya think?"
"I don't think I wanna do that."

I was 21 years old. I was a starving college student and dancing with a regional ballet company. My friend stopped me from doing something I would have regretted. Chances are, had I asked for a job there, I never would have gone back after the first time. But he spared me the grief, and I will be forever in debt to him for that.

So why did I think I wanted to be a stripper?
I had a fabulous body and I was a trained ballet dancer. What more could you want?

Uh huh, so why did I think I wanted to be a stripper?
I was comfortable with my body and I knew I would make a butt-load of money.

Okay, one more time Cameo, why did I think I wanted to be a stripper?
I didn't think. That's the truth. I wasn't thinking.

I wasn't thinking about myself. I wasn't thinking I deserved more. I wasn't thinking people found me interesting for substantial reasons, not just a great set of tits.

I wasn't thinking how I would screw things up for all women in the name of shameless easy money -money earned from the all mighty penis; Money stuck in my g-string instead of a kids bank account; Money handed me by men who had women waiting at home for them.

I wasn't thinking.

But Creston got me to think. Actually, he got me to see.

Creston's his name. Creston Funk.

I haven't spoken to him in over 7 years.

I hope he's doing okay.

I am.

Tales From The Sale

Well, the garage sale was a success, barring the fact I had five big items - none of which sold. Oh well.
And while I'm not a very social person, I love having garage sales. Something about the people who come to sales, I find interesting.
First, there is this man named Robert. He's in his late forties (I'm guessing) and has had what appears to be a massive stroke. He uses a brace to walk, his speech is slurred and everything he does takes a long time. He has come to every garage sale I have had and I love seeing him pull up. This time was no different.
Robert pulled up in his big SUV, and took a considerable amount of time getting himself out of the car and situated with his brace. My mom was helping me and shot me a puzzled look when nobody appeared from behind the car after a few minutes. "Just wait," I said. Out walks Robert. "I was wondering when you were going to show up!," I said. "Well, hey baby!," he replied.
We then spent the next 15 minutes just talking about anything and everything, including what I do for a living. He said when he got his feet back he was going to learn swing dancing with his "bride." My heart melted - his "bride." How sweet!
Robert is a good looking man. And he has the most beautiful spirit. Whatever hardship came his way hasn't stopped this man from being who he is. My guess is he has a charmed life (in part from things he told me), was quite dashing and hadn't a care in the world. Then fate stepped in and shifted his course. But he just kept going, being the quick witted, charming, good natured person he is. He's good people, and I look forward to seeing him at my sales.
Second, is this woman who had me cracking up the entire time she was here. She was in her late 60's and was so sweet and innocent. Innocent at 60 something? Yup! She told me of her kids who voted for Bush and how she just didn't get it. She told me how she loved to bake, and then asked me the last time I had seen flour on sale in the newspaper? Um, never, but I'm not looking for it, so I'm the wrong person to ask. And then she told me this story of how she was at her daughter's house one day and let her three ferrets out of their cage. As the story goes, the ferrets somehow turned the computer on, and the woman had no idea how to turn it off. So, she went to call her daughter, but the ferrets had turned the phone off and she couldn't figure out how to get that turned back on. So, she sat there for hours with a computer doing things she couldn't stop, and no way to get in touch with anybody! I'm cracking up as I type this! Too, too funny. Just imagine!
There was the woman who bought a pair of maternity jeans for her sister who was pregnant with her seventh child by a seventh man! "She needs to get fixed, that's just ridiculous!," she said. Amen sister! But nice sister for buying maternity pants!
There was the stingy woman who squabbled over a 50 cent item, and then put it back.
There was the crazy artist who bought tons of stuff.
The mother and daughter who bought the Hookah because they thought it was "fun!"
The woman with cancer - she was cool.
The little girl who was excited to see our pet rabbit.
The woman who brought her dog and we laughed while hers and mine frolicked in the front yard.
The young college age girl who bought her boyfriend the drafting table and a ton of other stuff and spent nearly 30 minutes with her mom trying to fit it all in their car - laughing the whole time!
The man who gave us a coupon for a free half gallon of ice cream.
The man I see walking when I take the kids to school every morning.
And the crazy woman who was like a bull in a china shop - abrasive as the day is long.

All these people, out doing their thing, shift the momentum for a quick peek at somebody else's stuff. And in the process, stories are told, annual friendships are strengthened, and I watch as things which tell, in part, the story of my life go marching off to become somebody else's story.
There were things I was a little sad to see go, but I know it was time. Some of the memories were good, and some I just didn't need anymore.

So, the sale was a success. The house is breathing a little easier now. I am too for that matter. I have made a promise to myself to stop buying things so I don't have to have a sale next year. It's a LOT of work. But between you and me, I think I might miss the dynamic my garage sales bring. I'm getting rid of my stuff, but in exchange, I'm getting some new memories. And I like having them - at least until I don't need them anymore either.