{July 10, 2013}   chaos…

I don’t know the words. Dont know how to explain the hell I am in. It switches on and off. No pattern, no warning. My chest gets tight and my heart beats hard and fast. My throat closes up and I can’t speak. My face gets hot, and I hear a loud noise, a combination of ringing and white noise. I am paralyzed, by fear? Guilt? Dread? I can’t leave the house. The only way to avoid it is to sleep. 24 hours a day if I can. I would rather die than live like this forever. (But hey, I said the same thing when I had chickenpox…)


{May 26, 2013}   I am alone….

Someone single said that she is miserable.  When I asked why, she said she is tired and alone.  I immediately responded “Me too.”

I am married, I have three kids.  I am completely alone.  My husband works so much he doesn’t recognize his children.  My best friend from childhood is far away and unreachable for many reasons.  No Dad, Mom, siblings.  No friends.

So here I sit, broken hearted….

Is there anyone out there?  Call me, lets get together….

I want to go up in a hot air balloon…

Fly in a helicopter…



Hunt (this fall/winter will be my first bow hunt.  Anyone in WI or IL know a place to hunt?)

I want to own a horse.  Love her, groom her, feed her, ride her.

I want to learn to paint, create…

I want to drive, fast, oh so fast, race someone else and kick fucking ass…

I want to take my big bad powerful pretty truck and drive it sideways through the mud…

I want to meet a man who becomes my friend, and at some point, needs me, cant keep his hands off of me, completely loses control.

I want a second chance with my mother.  I love you Mamma…

{May 22, 2013}   Frog stew…

Its 230 am. I can’t sleep. The frogs and coyotes seem to think its a night at the Apollo. I don’t believe in killing animals unless you are going to eat them. So I’ve got my kimber warrior in my hand and I’m starting the grill. Top chef…

{May 7, 2013}   End of the day…

My princess is in bed, exhausted from the days activities. My older daughter is sprawled across the couch, watching one of the many reality shows she likes. My son in enjoying a day off, waiting for his girlfriend to come over and watch a movie.

I am sitting outside, enjoying the cool air on my skin, watching the sunset, and for once enjoying the birdsong, instead of plotting their death for pooping all over my deck.

At this moment, I am content. Fatigued from playing and shopping and planting. (Notice I didn’t say cleaning. As if.)

At this moment, I love myself. I realize how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’m patting myself on the back for all of my accomplishments, my courage, my ability to laugh, when things are bad. My capacity for love.

At this moment, I’m focusing on now, and I’ve decided its a pretty good place to be.

I sit in my bed alone. The silence makes the inside of my ears hot. My eyes burn and water, pushed beyond endurance.

All I see are the yesterdays, all the shadowy days I try to hide from myself, lest they emerge and tear my mind asunder.

But they are here now. If I do not face them one by one, as I have in the past, they will just get louder and uglier, and more truthful.

I just wish I didn’t have to go through it alone.  The very few people I have, can not stand witness to my never ending reals of memories, lest they realize that more than one of the acts committed herein has cast them in the role of victim.

{May 1, 2013}   Manic and drunk….

Thank you so much for coming to see me. I was waiting for you… I just got out of the shower. I wanted you to think I was sexy, beautiful.  I wanted you to want to fuck me.

I shaved EVERYTHING.  I fingered myself over and over but only ended up making myself come all down my legs. I painted my eyes black and my lips red, and rubbed my favorite fragrance all over my body.

My nipples are hard, anticipating your mouth. My clit is throbbing. Please hurry. Make me your whore.

I’m here. Waiting. For you… make me scream…..

{April 17, 2013}   Stick with me on this one…


If you read the following post you are stating that you are aware of my diagnosis of ADD, and Bipolar, and you are aware that I am completely out of control manic right now, so Im sure it will be random, cuz thats what is going on in my head.

I just finished painting two walls in my much anticipated “Alone Room”…

I suck at painting, according to various reliable sources.

Painting Tips

1. “Cutting in” is not necessary, and in truth is mechanical and stops the flow of true creativity. I have learned that the edge of the prior wall color acts as a frame for your masterpeice.

2. Dont get upset when your significant other goes ballistic about all the paint stains on the new carpet. Try “Grandma’s Secret Stain Remover”. (Not made by my Grandma, probaly not made by anyones Grandma. Probably made by the underpaid and sexually harassed assistant of some man that has B.O.)

3. Do not paint in a well ventilated area. Close all the doors and windows. Feel free to add an ocillating fan, however. Turns the fumes into a breeze of LSD flashbacks. (Say no to drugs…)

4. There is no need for a second coat. Consider the shading and crevices as a faux painting effect that you invented all by youself. Truly beautiful.

5. Take your time. This is not a race, unlike masturbating in you car in the parking lot at Kohls. Chances are someone is going to park next to you, and that, my friends is a bummer. Now I park next door at the used CD resale shop. No one ever parks there, trust me.

6. Dont be upset if you choose the wrong color paint, and your boudoir turns into PeeWees Playhouse. Buy a few pillows from Pier 1 (another excellent parking lot), and pretend you meant to do it and critical visitors have no understanding of abstact art and satire. The Marilyn Monroe clock can still be returned to Walmart. But the Zebra print fur you bought to make into a loveseat slipcover? Just go with it, and remember if PeeWee was still on TV in 2013, Chair-y would have definately been upgraded since animal prints are all the rage in pre-teen bedroom acrosss the country.

one more thing… If you find yourself rolling the paint roller across the wall with out paint on it, thats cool too. Its called practice.

BTW… I got the stain remover at ACE hardware, even if I am still pissed that the smelly overpaid Jackass took all the credit.

{April 15, 2013}   “She’s Gay”

Picture this… Your having lunch with your coworker, and she says the following…

“So I went to get my nails done the other day with Laura, she’s gay. Anyway, we went to this new salon. You should try it out.

Let’s try a few others…

She has a hammer toe,
She snores,
She grows vidalia onions,
She was born in Nebraska,
Her first car was a Mercury Topaz,
She likes Starbucks,
She has a mole behind her right ear,

Why do we have to say “she’s gay”, or “he’s black” for that matter? Why do we have to say, “she’s a democrat”? (Just kidding, I know that last one is worth pointing out). “She’s bipolar”? The above is what I call “passive prejudice”.

In some conversations its appropriate, I guess.  But let’s all be a little more careful choosing the verbage and context. I’m just saying…

Show some RESPECT to your brothers and sisters. Cuz that’s what we all are…. FAMILY

I love you all, regardless of the color of your skin, who you love, who you worship, what is your mental or physical condition, or who you vote for.

But really… Democrat????? Really????

My mom came to visit me today. She was behind me by or on the couch. I think she just stopped by to check in, I didn’t feel any urgency in her visit. She was laughing at my feeble attempt at painting.  She always laughs at you, not with you. It used to make me so mad, but now I realize she does it not out of meanness, but to entertain herself. Well, maybe a little out of meanness. God knows, she’s got enough of that to go around.

I told her I was sorry the kids were not home, the are more entertaining than I. She held the ladder for me when I almost fell and rolled her eyes dramatically I’m sure. Pointing out my mistakes again, so like her.

I told her I was sorry I didn’t invite her over more when she was alive, but we both know if she hadn’t died, she still wouldn’t be visiting. Her fault and mine I guess.

There were times in my life when I laid in bed and examined myself, wondering if I even loved her. But I knew, deep down, she always loved me. Maybe more than anyone. I only felt that occasionally, however. She was nuts. Like me. Thanks Mom.

Now I know. I love her and she loves me. Theres no crap to get in the way now. She still laughs at me and acts holier than thou, but shes been to heaven, so I guess I’ll let that pass. For now…

I took my dog to the groomer today and he looks worse than he did when I dropped him off…

I’m disgusted with my husband. I don’t even want to look at him, but I’m definitely in the mood for a horizontal mambo…

I spent the last ten years wishing my son and I could communicate. Now I can’t find ear plugs strong enough to drown him out…

I would love to have another baby. But I wish there was no jail time involved in dropping my current three off at the fire station…

Yesterday was the day of my fathers birth. I was hoping it was going to be the day of his death. (Lord forgive me).

I told my husband I wanted to turn the office into a room just for me, to have some alone time.  He is all of a sudden working hard on it, “because he wants me to be happy”.


et cetera