i am sitting in my freezing basement as i type this without shoes, socks or slippers so i've gotta make this quick.

i didn't go into work today. or bother to call and tell them that i wasn't coming. and sure enough... she somehow got my personal cell phone number and left me a bitchy voicemail. i'm not calling her back. and if she calls me again i am going to file a grievance for her violating my personal space as well as disrespecting me.

she made my eye twitch again... but that let up shortly after i made the powerplay of the day when my roommates and i went to the auto show in dc and i flirted and made politically incorrect jokes with one WWE god, Shawn Michaels.

i know. you sweat me.

oh oh... and if i don't see you before then... have an awesome fucking new year.

it has gone too far!!

the bitch X'ed out an unfinished post i was typing up. and then told the new employee i was training that she shouldn't listen to me because if i was a real employee i would have been fired already.

...

yeah. i'm not exaggerating.

that makes if official. today is my last day. she can go boink herself. hopefully i'll get to rewrite the post tonight.

i like how movies are a safe way to let the tears trickle down without anyone asking you what's wrong.

i just have a bad feeling about this...

while i must admit that he is right about self-fulfilling prophecy... and he is also right that everyone makes a conscious choice about how they deal with drama...



i just know.
i can't have a happy new year when there is no where and no one in particular that i want to spend it with.

however you want to spin it... this new year will be a time of great change in my life. but this is a story that begins with me being alone. and it's lonely.

it's always lonely.

i don't know
where the time went
and i can't remember
when i started to forget...

but none of that matters now
it's time to learn how

to say goodbye
goodbye
goodbye

no more childhood illusions
no more lying to myself

... i never used to hook up
just for fun.

i'm seriously dying inside without internet access at home.

and today is my last official day at work... so i won't have any access anywhere except my mom'z place.

i'm frightened.

and i'm so sick of this layout. and these out-dated subpages. and YOU, you selfish bitch.

hopefully with my unemployed ass and big D's week off from teaching we will be able to get the comcast bastards to pay us some attention. and then rico and i will build my supercomputer. and then i will move to the next stage in my quest to take over the world.

you laugh? i'll show you.

i really have no content. but let's pretend. kthnxbi.

the lead singer and i

the stage lights went down
the house lights came up

i squinted my eyes
and tried
tried to get them to close

"i look better in the dark," i said
but he looked at me and said
"no you don't."

... no you don't.

when all is said and done.
people just want love.
but what is missed, i think...
is that love is not something that you have or give.

it's something you live.

honkey tonk holiday

so it's monday morning. i'm only here a half day today. i'm a little jaded about this whole leaving my job thing. there is no excitement about it anymore... it's just like come on already.

xmas is nuts, as usual... and being that i'm never prepared, i have decided not to stress about it. i'd rather enjoy all the fuzzies and forget the fuss. those of you expecting/hoping for cards/presents from me... count on them not reaching your person until after the 25th. hopefully before the new year, though. i'm not that bad (most of the time, anyway).

had a good weekend. rolling with a new crew... meeting some new people. credit goes to my gurls MariB and Kia. got to see Kinya for a bit too. i like good people.

trying not to be too preoccupied with the he issues i had last week... and i think i'm doing a pretty good job. i am blatantly horny and forward about my current status, though. i hope i am not coming across as a shallow whore... cause you all know that ain't how it is. i'm just very... vocal. yes. vocal about my... frustration.

ooga. anyway. enough of that.

i'm trying to remember this little thing i sang in the shower yesterday.

i notice how she tries
to hide
that she's trying
at all

i notice how your hair curls
at the back of your neck
when you forget
to comb through it
with your finger tips.

i notice
when you don't notice me
noticing

ugh. i dunno. it sounded nice at the time.

'tis a sad, sad day.

i joined friendster.

so quick and add me before i feel like a loser.

let's skew their results, shall we?

go on and vote. show this supposed family association what real love is about.

my clothes and hair smell like him still.

and it pisses me off.

with every breath a flash of last night's events floods in through my nose. and right now i'd kinda like to forget about it.

forget about how much time was wasted. forget about what he didn't say. forget about him getting out of bed. forget about how i apologized for no reason... just because i thought he was pissed off and i didn't want him to be.

he has blown it 3 times now. and i'm ashamed that it passed 2. i've got no one to blame but myself.

funny how i thought skin on skin contact would change things.

ugh. for the 2nd time in my life i feel tainted. and for the gabillionth time... i feel like a dumbass.

looking back
on my own scribblings
now seeming ancient
and worlds away

i don't even remember
half of these thoughts
coming from inside of me

maybe my collection
is one of wise words
stolen from others

and barely filtered
through the fingers
that belong to my hands

but do even my fingers
belong to me
or have they been stolen

from my mother's heart
and my father's soul

where did the magic go in our lives
i am reminded especially in this season
that the gifts we give are hollow
the presents we receive mean nothing really

december is almost over now
and not even one present sits under my tree
and no, i don't mean a present for me

i have forgotten to run around
and pretend like i have a reason
to spend the bonus i didn't receive

i have a secret love affair
with old love letters
i pretended to write

i kiss my sister
open mouthed

i blame the hyper-awareness
i don't make excuses
for my shortcomings

i lovingly and tenderly
hold them
close. too close.
to my heart.

i felt silly yesterday
designing greeting cards
at my desk
with highlighters

i can't remember the last time
i did this
writing without purpose

i felt like i owed it to him

all i want for christmas is a song to sing

i know a secret... that i can't tell.

golden. it's going to be absolutely golden.

cannot wait until tomorrow night. cannot wait until this weekend. cannot wait until this fucking job is over and i can get my shit started!!

hit breaking point last night with fuckmunch. we both got to release a lot of pent up frustration... but not in the way i had hoped. haven't yelled like that since... well... since matt.

oh well. at least my shit is straight now and he knows i'm sick of him being lazy. he called me pompous, rude and insensitive. it'll make a nice fight scene in my screen play. all i have to do is learn how to write a screen play.

which brings me to my next point.

ladies and gentlemen... i'm selling out. well, i'm going to try to sell out. over the holiday season i am putting together a collection of my work and making some prints. so start getting friendly with paypal and cafepress... because i intend to join the masses of pseudo "freelance" bloggers.

this is basically a test for me to see if anyone will be interested in the type of things i'd like to create... and interested enough to pay for them.

so any words or encouragement/advice or anything really... you know where i be.

warning: not a good post.

so i know i need an update. but brawdband has already taken a crap on my face and isn't working. so i is waitin on a service call.

had a messed up weekend. like. you have no idea. power hour. kia. "you've got balls." xmas tree fiasco. staff party, lesbians, VIP, snow storm, drunken stick-shift driving morons, blue hawians (blegh) and a whole lot of cigarettes.

i almost messed up ordering the pay per view on sunday. i did go grocery shopping though... and i made a kick ass stir-fry. got a lot of shit done for guard...

too bad fuckmunch is being a lazy apathetic bastard... to more than just our personal relationship... now to the indoor program as well.

i seriously doubt that there is a guy out there who can impress me. and i'm just going to be an arrogant picky bitch about it. because frankly, the previous generation has popped out and raised a bunch of pussies.

i have not met one male who has made me feel like i could learn and/or grow from him in quite a long time. unless you count learning about guitars, weed, television shows, beer pong, computers, hockey or how to be a RAGING PATHETIC CHICKEN SHIT.

what a friggin waste of my time.

and you know it's not so easy when ... you're on your own.

i thought it would show my holiday spirit by wearing icicles last night on my way home from the game. it's a really easy trick for you fashion buffs out there. you know how water freezes when it's cold outside? well if you cry a little- just enough to let a few tears run down your cheeks- they freeze right onto your face, giving you that sparkling shine around your eyes.

very festive.

kind words for a change:

marib threw me this link a few min ago... and i gotta say that she's right. this doode is a new hero.

i'm sure he will receive a ton of responses for writing such an honest and inspiring column. well... at least one for sure.

"The Chink is right: Life is essentially playful. Of course, it plays a bit rough at times."

it is a good thing i enjoy wrestling because this whole week has been like a giant head lock. i'm serious... even my left eye keeps twitching. and there is no end in sight.

on monday evening i had work, guard and then i helped a good friend of mine house sit for his parents in potomac. that was glorious, but only involved 2 hours of sleep. tuesday work continued normally until the afternoon. then... the short version of the story involves me having a run in with the big boss lady and me being sent home 2 hours early. yeah.

after a shitty commute home, i napped for 45 min and then headed out to baltimore to scout a band and a boy at J. Patrick's Irish Pub. This proved to be very entertaining. I met and talked with an old irish lad named Pat (no relation to the bar). I'll tell you there is nothing more interesting then listening to a drunk old man tell his tales. Of course, it got less interesting when he went from story telling to hitting on lizzing. but the night was great, the pub is awesome, and i only spent $5. definitely going there again.

yesterday i started work again, this time on 5 hours of sleep. karma loves me, we know this... so after my incident yesterday i fucked up everything i touched all morning. thank god i only had a half day. after that i headed over to guard early for a meeting with the band director. got our account open and ordered a lot of equipment. practice went really well (as always) and then i somehow ended up at his house. and after an hour and a half drive home at midnight in the pouring rain... i crashed into my bed dreaming of that first kiss.

yep... you heard right.

so on my 4 hours of sleep from last night... after i get off of work he and i are going to the caps game.

oh the drama of it all.

then on friday after work, pops and i are going out for lunch/early dinner and i shall head over to CP for a power hour and evening of kia goodness. hopefully marib will join me if she is feeling better. then saturday i hafta get new tires and head home to get the xmas tree. then the moms my brah and i will waltz on over to the staff xmas party.

keep your fingers crossed for me. some prayers would rock too. i'll leave you with some of my irish friend's wise words:

"Now I don't mean to get sentimental... but sometimes I wish I could hold her. Just one more time. I know it sounds wacky, but when I go to sleep... I can still feel her up against my back. I pretend she is still in bed with me. She always said I kept her warm.

"Woman, get me my fiddle!

"Oh, I'd love to hear your stories. What kind of stories? With a pretty girl like you... I want to hear your love stories.

"It doesn't matter if you listen to any other thing i say. Just this. Make sure that you do what you want-when you want."

a little clean up.

in celebration of my new broadband internet connection, i cleaned up all the broken links i could find throughout my page.

please alert me if i missed any.

expect some new happiness in the subpages soon... but for now... it is off to the pub!!

never partying with white people ever again.

after this party i went to on saturday... it would be stupid to waste my money/time/energy going out for any social purpose without a crew of kenyans. it is like with them that everything is intensified. and i mean everything.

the music. the dancing. the drinking. the wardrobe.

it was mind blowing. a private party, swanky club atmosphere...

i only had to buy one drink the whole night, and i never had to dance alone. and man, it's nice to see young men dance. not in that rub up against you and gyrate kinda way either. these boys can werk it.

everyone was so freaking nice... and you could tell it was genuine. everyone wanted to make sure everyone was having a good time. there was no drama.

i wouldn't change anything about that night.

... except that text message i got from a certain someone in mid swing. ugh.

ok. i'm bitter. i know this post should go here... but i want comments. so it's going here.

so last night. we fight at work. he stays late so when i'm finished we can go eat. we eat. we shmooze. we play footsie. we fight some more. waitress hits on him. he hits on me.

snow starts falling. magical.

we get outside. cars are covered. he jokingly asks if i want to come over. he didn't expect a whole-hearted "yes" to push it's way through my smile, did he?

well that's what he got.

and he wasn't ready for it.

i hide in my hoodie. i nuzzle my rudolph nose against his. i lean forward. his hands maneuver a hostile take-over of my pockets.

"i don't think this would be a smart thing to do."

"so i take that as a no."

"no..."

"well i mean... what are we doing? should i just leave you alone?"

"well yeah...

::heart falls to the floor::

"if i'm like taking a crap or something."

"i hate you."

"i don't know what to do, liz."

"make a decision."

"i don't want things to get weird."

"they aren't going to get weird unless you make them. don't roll your eyes at me. all i know is that i wanna see what's here. so i can stop thinking about it."

"but i think we have a really good relationship right now and i don't want that to get messed up."

"listen. we both know this isn't smart. it's dumb even."

"so you like to do dumb things."

"well yeah, but. my point is that i don't limit myself from doing something i want to do just because some people may think that it's 'dumb'."

"tonight wouldn't be a good night anyway. we have to work tomorrow."

"well what if i came over and we just went to sleep? wait. no. i know what you're thinking... then what would the point of me coming over?"

giggle.

"goodnight."

"nite liz."

...

well guess what, folks? school got cancelled. and i could have easily called out of work. i could be knee deep in a fuzzie snowie night cap right now.

ugh. karma. you smite me.

i know. a quiz. sue me. you'll still take it anyway.

you're american beauty. you're full of hope and appreciate the beautiful things in life.

take the which prettie movie are you? quiz, a product of the slinkstercool community.

sometimes i miss this place

slap stick poetry

so i'm looking over today's one word like i usually do after i do my little blurb of the moment... and it hits me that in comparison to a vast majority of the writers on there... mine are very...

how do i put this.

... elementary.

now i'm not saying this to have a pity party... it just makes me wonder why, as i writer, i don't have this thing about using big words. i envy my peers (if i can call them that) who have such an impressive vocabulary.

i used to think that i used description appropriately and that while my spelling and grammar struggled... the honesty in my writing was what made it shine. now i'm wondering if that is enough.

maybe i need to take a class or do some exercises or something.

or maybe i just need to do some stream of conscious writing for longer than 60 seconds every once in a while.

blegh. i hate you self doubt.

why you just don't get it:

it's not for a lack of caring.
nor for a lack of motivation to fix things.

it's just the embarrassment of admitting...

that you were wrong.

once upon a time there was a little girl who liked to watch pro wrestling. she and her little brother ached for saturday mornings... just for the few moments of bliss they felt whenever hulk hogan stepped into the ring. there was also that weird feeling she got in her woo woo area whenever shawn michaels claimed another kissing victim. ::shiver::

that little girl has grown up. and she still dedicates her monday, thursday and once a month on sunday nights to keeping up with her soap opera on steroids. shawn michaels still sports the pink and black like a champ... but the woo woo area tingles now center around a newly short-haired christian and a white boy who can't rap. but that is besides the point.

this now big girl likes her wrestling. stop making fun of her for it. true, it's lame and fake and very silly. but what on television isn't? and true, it's violent and sexist (two things that this girl has a big problem with). but she puts that aside for a few hours to indulge her inner demons.

i'm jealous because i can't wear spandex in public anymore without being scoffed at... let alone hot pink spandex. i'm jealous cause i can't jump around and be all acrobatic anymore without people thinking i'm on crack. and i'm jealous that i can't coin myself a cool name and a bad attitude without being called a bitch.

i like wrestling. i like being loud and rude and belligerent while i watch my wrestling. i like having people watch it with me who get into it as much as i do. i like eating fried and fatty foods and drinking beer as i sit my fat ass in front of the television and no one is going to convince me that it's lame and uncool and something i should stop doing.

werd life.

the mornin' commute

these people made me shoot key lime pie yogurt out of my nose this morning.

they were discussing the rhythm and withdrawal methods of birth control. what did it for me was the background music of "The Rhythm is Going to Get You," "The Rhythm of the Night" and "Rhythm is a Dancer." absolutely hilarious. i can't believe people get paid just to talk about this stuff and take jokes waaaay too far.

new goal to add to my list. being on talk radio. because that would be hot.

my reply.

another reason for me to be irritated at my lack of internet access.

that goddess over there at after ophelia friggin dedicated this awesomely introspective rant to one of my earlier posts (scroll down to the too early to write poetry post).

and i fucking missed it.

so #1: my bad.
#2: my reply.

one of my best one liners ever. i will put this in a book one day, people... so don't even TRY to steal this.

why on earth would you work so hard to build something that will never truly stand?

...

that's easy. i'm in it for the falling.

it is so rare to find someone who really rox your sox that i really don't give a flinging poo if it is going to work out. just the chance to share a few (even if they are fleeting) moments of tummy tingle is worth all the heartbreak in the world to me.
those people that say they are ruined by break ups (ahem ahem) are forgetting that in order to appreciate the bad, you hafta appreciate the good. and vice versa. if it weren't for the sting of that heartbreak you wouldn't realize how glorious the love feels.

but lets /end preaching sappiness here. i think rico hit the nail on the head. it would be very easy for me to just fit my future into a box like my past. it would be safe. a sinch for me to handle. and i like being in control.

it's hard to get excited about tingles when you have experienced a lot of loneliness. wait. that doesn't sound right. what i mean is. when i feel tingles... i don't care if they are returned because the tingles in themselves are fucking bomb and worth it.
but... as time has gone on... when the pattern turns out that the person you are tingling for doesn't want to/know how to return them... it gets kinda cloudy.

ugh. my heart hurts.

and now i'm late for dinner.

i have faith. i'll get knocked on my ass eventually. and when i do... he can break my heart to pieces... i'll adore him for it.

everyday ...

... love me your own special way.

melt all my heart away...

... with a smile.

ok i'm done. wait. no i'm not.

take time to tell me...

yoouuuuuuuuu really caaaaaaare.

and we'll share tomorrow...

TOGETHER!!!!

heh.

i love old sappy love songs. and do you know why? because. they actually sing. plain old sing. straight forward and honest. none of this oo oo baby baby oo oo ooooooooo hit me hit me uh uh uhhhhhhhhh crap. they use words. that you can like... find in a dictionary.

i'm going to write love songs like that.

all systems are down.

so my comments don't work. i've been waiting 4 mother pooping days to get on the internet just to check up on my page... and now i can't talk to anyone or see if anyone left me love.

so email me, damnit... i'm feeling needy. this no regular internet access is for the birds. oh, and FECK verizon because they can't service my phone number at my new house. looks like DSL is out... and comcast poopie cable is in.

booooooooness.