Friday, June 29, 2007
I Don't Know Where This Crazy Train is Heading, But I Sure Like to Ride It
I have nothing to say about this except for the title... You can't imagine how fun this is, how magic.
I have nothing to say about this except for the title... You can't imagine how fun this is, how magic.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Only Because I Love Sweaty Betty...
And Craigslist! Recently read in "Missed Connections":
RE: bought me guinness despite my refusal - 34
Reply to: [craigs standard email] Date: 2007-06-23, 4:03PM EDT
YOU: JERK. ASSUMED I was buying guinness for you. wtf? They were both MY beers!
ME: Accidentally grazed against your staples/leg hair. Surpressed gag-reflex until I made it home. Haven't stopped vomitting since. My Learning Annex[TM] Trauma Counseling classes and "Helping To Forget" Hypnotherapy sessions begin on Monday.
Coffee?
And Craigslist! Recently read in "Missed Connections":
RE: bought me guinness despite my refusal - 34
Reply to: [craigs standard email] Date: 2007-06-23, 4:03PM EDT
YOU: JERK. ASSUMED I was buying guinness for you. wtf? They were both MY beers!
ME: Accidentally grazed against your staples/leg hair. Surpressed gag-reflex until I made it home. Haven't stopped vomitting since. My Learning Annex[TM] Trauma Counseling classes and "Helping To Forget" Hypnotherapy sessions begin on Monday.
Coffee?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Girl Comes Out of Coma; G-Spot Gets Hit
The last few days have felt for me like I woke up from a coma, except that in the coma I could function and I just felt this low level of pain all the time. And then my front door opened and a breeze blew through the house and the whole city, and it blew all the smog and heat away and I woke up. I woke up out of my coma.
The last few days have felt for me like I woke up from a coma, except that in the coma I could function and I just felt this low level of pain all the time. And then my front door opened and a breeze blew through the house and the whole city, and it blew all the smog and heat away and I woke up. I woke up out of my coma.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Toronto FC
Spent Father's Day with friends at the Toronto FC game. What fun. BMO Field is great: perfect size, clean, easy to navigate, easy to get to. And then Toronto kicked Dallas's butt 4-0. Yes, the food and drink is really expensive. And wow, was it ever hot and sunny in the stands, but that just adds to the fun. Upon leaving, it's easy to get out of the stadium. The TTC provided loads of special transport. But due to Taste of Italy or whatever it's called, it was very slow going up Bathurst. And the bus? Was full of very sweaty, stinky people. No one was crazy-drunk or being an idiot. It was just so hot and smelly.
Spent Father's Day with friends at the Toronto FC game. What fun. BMO Field is great: perfect size, clean, easy to navigate, easy to get to. And then Toronto kicked Dallas's butt 4-0. Yes, the food and drink is really expensive. And wow, was it ever hot and sunny in the stands, but that just adds to the fun. Upon leaving, it's easy to get out of the stadium. The TTC provided loads of special transport. But due to Taste of Italy or whatever it's called, it was very slow going up Bathurst. And the bus? Was full of very sweaty, stinky people. No one was crazy-drunk or being an idiot. It was just so hot and smelly.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Cryptic Posts and Celeb Gossip
Recently one of my podnas commented that I sometimes write very cryptically about some expository thing (a friend's baby smearing meat pie into my thigh / dress whilst we sat on a patio), or else I repeat some stupid celebrity gossip. True and true.
I'm definitely in one of my phases where I can't write an essay or even put some creative thoughts together. All I've got to give are one or two of those cryptic little splats of writing, or else repeat something outrageous I read on these here Internets. Frankly, I'm nervous to really write about my life, my sexuality, the bad things I do (or even the good), the way I make things FUBAR in my own life with apparent ease (I can tell you, it's hard to change. It's hard to be a good person).
Not that this was ever much of a diary but I realized that in the last six or eight months I went from having a tension-filled, marriage-finally-dying existence and no sex life, to having a very busy, crazy altera-sex and love life. I fell in love, fell out of love, fell BACK in love (and am STILL struggling to stay out of love with that person); my whole home life changed; I was alone a lot; I was going out A LOT; I started to again do the things I used to love doing; I felt like I got myself back. Throughout that time I was keeping a parallel diary online (every entry set to draft), so personal and explicit even I can't bear to re-read it sometimes (and it's about ME!), and even an old school paper-based diary (mostly devoted to my broken, stomped-upon heart). Even I was getting confused about where I was recording things. So yeah, I was cryptic. But now everything is normalizing and I'm just emerging from a very fucking odd moment in time where I dated a deaf person, a BDSM person, a married person, a whack job person, a virtual person, and they all just about sucked the LIFE out of me. And by dated I meant fucked.
And for the record - where I check most days for celebrity shizz:
Gawker. I don't know, it's just fun even though I'm not a fan of NYC. The sightings used to be pretty funny but I just can't get used to the new format.
The Superficial. Usually pretty funny to read. And those pictures of that guy's balls were totally, utterly unforgettable.
A Socialite's Life. Pretty good, see above.
Go Fug Yourself. Oftentimes the people look AWESOME even though they're being cited as fashion disasters.
IMDB. Movie and TV news on the right.
Page Six. Sort of fun and cheerful. Who doesn't love Page Six?
TMZ. Primary source of all gossip. The bible. Every paparazzo subcontracted here I'm sure.
Places I never go:
Lainey. Too fucking wordy and obtuse (or do I mean oblique?). Hello, pot? This is kettle speaking.
Ted Casablanca. See above Lainey. Impossible blind items that can only be sussed out by freaking Stephen Hawking and no fun whatsoever anymore.
Recently one of my podnas commented that I sometimes write very cryptically about some expository thing (a friend's baby smearing meat pie into my thigh / dress whilst we sat on a patio), or else I repeat some stupid celebrity gossip. True and true.
I'm definitely in one of my phases where I can't write an essay or even put some creative thoughts together. All I've got to give are one or two of those cryptic little splats of writing, or else repeat something outrageous I read on these here Internets. Frankly, I'm nervous to really write about my life, my sexuality, the bad things I do (or even the good), the way I make things FUBAR in my own life with apparent ease (I can tell you, it's hard to change. It's hard to be a good person).
Not that this was ever much of a diary but I realized that in the last six or eight months I went from having a tension-filled, marriage-finally-dying existence and no sex life, to having a very busy, crazy altera-sex and love life. I fell in love, fell out of love, fell BACK in love (and am STILL struggling to stay out of love with that person); my whole home life changed; I was alone a lot; I was going out A LOT; I started to again do the things I used to love doing; I felt like I got myself back. Throughout that time I was keeping a parallel diary online (every entry set to draft), so personal and explicit even I can't bear to re-read it sometimes (and it's about ME!), and even an old school paper-based diary (mostly devoted to my broken, stomped-upon heart). Even I was getting confused about where I was recording things. So yeah, I was cryptic. But now everything is normalizing and I'm just emerging from a very fucking odd moment in time where I dated a deaf person, a BDSM person, a married person, a whack job person, a virtual person, and they all just about sucked the LIFE out of me. And by dated I meant fucked.
And for the record - where I check most days for celebrity shizz:
Gawker. I don't know, it's just fun even though I'm not a fan of NYC. The sightings used to be pretty funny but I just can't get used to the new format.
The Superficial. Usually pretty funny to read. And those pictures of that guy's balls were totally, utterly unforgettable.
A Socialite's Life. Pretty good, see above.
Go Fug Yourself. Oftentimes the people look AWESOME even though they're being cited as fashion disasters.
IMDB. Movie and TV news on the right.
Page Six. Sort of fun and cheerful. Who doesn't love Page Six?
TMZ. Primary source of all gossip. The bible. Every paparazzo subcontracted here I'm sure.
Places I never go:
Lainey. Too fucking wordy and obtuse (or do I mean oblique?). Hello, pot? This is kettle speaking.
Ted Casablanca. See above Lainey. Impossible blind items that can only be sussed out by freaking Stephen Hawking and no fun whatsoever anymore.
Monday, June 11, 2007
A Bit of a Comedian...
"...Mary Beth is very professional when it comes to the work but is a bit of a comedian otherwise and it’s great to have someone who knows how to have fun to loosen up the others. She may want to take care however that some people may not “get it” or appreciate some of the comments. Just a reminder to consider the audience."
"...Mary Beth is very professional when it comes to the work but is a bit of a comedian otherwise and it’s great to have someone who knows how to have fun to loosen up the others. She may want to take care however that some people may not “get it” or appreciate some of the comments. Just a reminder to consider the audience."
Friday, June 08, 2007
Where Are You?
I want you.
I want you.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
My Kidneys and Bladder, Part Infinity
Some people are just prone to this stuff. It's not that I'm unhealthy or not drinking enough cranberry juice or wiping my ass the wrong way. It's just stress (real, imagined...), worry ("Does Prince really live on the Bridle Path?"), life, and like, taking too many baths? And using too much soap? You know what I'm talking about ladies. The dirty little secret is out. You're not supposed to wash a lot downstairs, and just let nature take care of your hoo-haw. And take showers, not baths. All of which is just not me.
Anyway, I have STOPPED all the speed dating and running around and doing something every single night. I felt so fine yesterday I went out and killed myself at pilates. Just what I needed. My abs thanked me, even if my lower back did not.
I miss my friend.
Some people are just prone to this stuff. It's not that I'm unhealthy or not drinking enough cranberry juice or wiping my ass the wrong way. It's just stress (real, imagined...), worry ("Does Prince really live on the Bridle Path?"), life, and like, taking too many baths? And using too much soap? You know what I'm talking about ladies. The dirty little secret is out. You're not supposed to wash a lot downstairs, and just let nature take care of your hoo-haw. And take showers, not baths. All of which is just not me.
Anyway, I have STOPPED all the speed dating and running around and doing something every single night. I felt so fine yesterday I went out and killed myself at pilates. Just what I needed. My abs thanked me, even if my lower back did not.
I miss my friend.
