i've cultivated an appreciation for this specific type of thing, you see. i'm sort of really into it and i can't get enough. i spend time everyday scouring the internet for images to quell my unending thirst, but nothing helps.
it's becoming a problem. i’m a little embarrassed— i know it’s wrong. i started liking it in highschool after i dated this one guy who had a really big one, and things have just never been the same. i don’t want to encourage any unhealthy regimens by endorsing this sort of thing, but i must say… i like fatties. i really like them. it might be love. i could look at them all day, stretched out on their backs, huge jiggly bellies for all the world to see.
i want to grab their rolls and smoosh my face in them.
because once they’ve passed the kitten benchmark, there's really nothing i like so much as a totally fucking corpulent cat. rowr!
that said, this is my complaint: despite it’s reputation, i have found through extensive research that (at least on my internet) there is an acute shortage of fatty porn. the situation is dire. i was on catster earlier (yes, catster. yes, it’s like myspace but for cats. shhh. i know.) and i was pretty sure i had hit the jackpot when I came across this “group” for “plus sized” catster members.
i was all excited. i had visions of enormous furry butts dancing in my head. it was a dream come true. until i took the time (out of my busy work day) to actually look.
since when is 15 pounds plus sized? that cat is average! mediocre! i’m not into that shit. i want big! bigger! (and this cat is 15 pounds... on the moon. this cat is 15 pounds of 3 pound increments.)biggest!
now please leave me with me with my thoughts and this stack of clinical obesity literature. i have fatties to show some serious lovin’.
some of you thought this meant i was pregnant. while i appreciate your confidence in the power of my womb, i assure you that were i pregnant, there would be far more curse words, and probably vomiting. and curse words.
the thing is, is i have a heart *this big.* for those of you who have a monitor smaller than the known universe, i'll just tell you. it's big. it's big like a baboon's butt is red; very, and sometimes embarrassingly so.
i now present, in his very first appearance on the internets.....
he's six months old, a flame point siamese,
and the most handsome spokesman
mac has ever had.
he arrived on friday night,
and promptly poo'd the dog bed.
he enjoys gadgets and appliances,
including the mac, the fridge, the cable box
and that pesky lava lamp.
and often screams until you agree to love him.
(this quality is creating an air of competition
in the home and i can't say i really
mind the sibling rivalry. it's nice to have
julius love me without quite so much
talons and teeth once in a while.)
aside from a well-placed and punishing wound
i received immediately following his arrival,
julius and pickles have found him fairly innocuous.
when julius licked nimoy's sleeping face there was
so much cutenessthat i actually died.
i was revived with cookies. it's good to have them on hand.
you can see that being siamese, his eyes are sort of wonky.
this is adorable.
if you disagree, i'm not sure we're friends.
someone who is a jerk uses this characteristic
to call leonard nimoy "corky."
this is evil and inappropriate and leonard nimoy
plans to kill this person while this person is sleeping.
possibly the best part of the whole deal is that i received an early birthday present at the exact same time of leonard nimoy's arrival.
thank you, spinnerina. your timing is impeccable.
i have nothing.
tuesday was incredibly long and gray. it rained inside.
i lay in my bed at night and wait.
i sit in my chair all day and wait.
sometimes songs come on that make me think of people, and i do think of them.
every hour feels like twenty five. seconds pass too loudly. my skin tingles and aches.
often, i almost cry.
i don't know why.
...i know i know you well
well better than i used to
haze all clouded up my mind, in the daze
of the why it could've never been
so you say and i say
you know you're full of wish
and your 'baby baby baby babies'
i tell you there's pieces of me you've never seen
maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen
well all the world is
all i am
the black of the blackest ocean
and that tear in your hand
all the world is danglin
danglin for me, darlin'
you dont know the power that you have with that
tear in your hand...
that's unrelated to anything else, i just thought it was funny. so.
this past weekend i went shopping. i needed hooker boots to wear out to the club next weekend. (because for my birthday, i want to be six foot three and intimidating.) anyway, you know how babies come from the stork and cheese comes from the moon and wars in the middle east come from trickery and lies? well, hooker boots come from hollywood boulevard, so there i went, with uccellina and monkeygurrl.
we went into a bunch of stores, perusing the g-strings and vinyl hotpants. there was one store that had a whole section devoted to garments made entirely of crystals and chain, and i'm pretty sure that were we rich girls, it could have turned ugly.
now, as a general rule, i don't like to be spoken to by people i don't know. this can make shopping unpleasant when there are sales predators on the loose, but fortunately, we wandered about relatively unscathed. in one store we were rescued by the owners having to corral their eight (possibly nine) year old child, as he ran around in circles amidst the undies and whips and things. i don't know why they were worried- that seems like a totally appropriate place for him to be.
we looked at some "sexy" halloween costumes, and though i had originally thought i might make my costume, i don't think i will have time. we threw around some ideas, like the classics (nurse/cop/schoolgirl), the trends (pirate), the pretty but generally indicative of a certain brand of craziness (fairy), and my personal favorite, the lying or honest whore.
i'm undecided. of course i want to be seen as attractive, but i have little desire to parade my ladybits around like waiter with a hors d'oeuvres tray. if i had a partner you know, we could do a theme. jeannie and major nelson! ground control and major tom! if i had a red headed friend, we could be ginger and maryanne. if she were blonde, dorothy shaw and lorelei lee! or should i go as something frightening? a zombie? a socialite? a president of the united states? or i could go as the scariest mannequin on earth:
any and all suggestions will be considered. please keep in mind that i am poor and also not an idiot. thank you.
they chose lukas.
hear him and his strange pinchy voice here. what were they thinking????? he sounds like he's trying to squeeze out a poo! and his head! it's just so small!
jason newsted- how could you do me like that? and after all the hot sex we shared in my dreams. i'm not sure i can ever forgive you.
i have to focus all my energies on my other secret celebrity boyfriends now. i'll just have to dream of julian mcmahon. he's not even my type. see what you've done jason newsted???? you've been replaced by a man with sculpted eyebrows and minimal chest hair! it's not right.
in fact it's very very wrong. very very deliciously wrong.
speaking of my dreams, lately i dream of two things: the awkward hurtiness, and phantom pets. i much prefer the pet dreams, wherein i've accumulated four dogs:
and a swell cat:
but it's just not fair. i wake up so sad! where have my babies gone? someday i shall have a tiny dog to call my own. and certainly there will be more cats. because who doesn't need more cats? they go so nicely with my knitting and spinning and general sense of hermitness.
in a perfect world, everytime i dreamt of a new pet, i would wake up and he'd be there. and craft supplies would be free, and julian mcmahon would sponsor me so i could devote my life to the glorious making of things, and lukas would go back to flipping chicken wings at hooters, and someone would buy me a miniature pony.
two: the toilets here at work are oddly shaped and i have to sit really far back on them to avoid splashback. yes, i actually put my butt on the toilet here. our bathrooms are sparkly clean. however, i hate splashback, and i hate sitting with my butt against the back of the toilet. i go to the bathroom about seven times a day (at work, and about five or six more at home) so now the question becomes which do i hate more?
three: i have a three huge zits on my face. i know they are huge because they each have their own rover.
four: there is something sort of big going on right now and it's weird and awkward and hurty and the only thing that will fix it at this point is money, which i have little of. i need atleast $2000 more dollars before i can really address it, and unless my accident money comes strolling in (fashionably late), it's going to take till february at least for me to save that. beside which, my accident money needs to pay back my parents and go towards atleast one of my credit cards. so a minimum of five more months of silent awkward hurty suffering (now with less fun!) is on the agenda.
five: my birthday is in 17 days. i have no idea what is happening. if you feel compelled to give me something, which you should not, but if you do, and you aren't sure what i might like (as someone has pointed out), let me suggest the following options:
giftcards to michaels craft stores, joann fabrics, amazon or ebay
paypal money towards the relief of my awkwardness.
six: i have been dieting and doing very well and not cheating and yet i haven't lost a single pound. not even one! not even half of one! this is bullshit. poppycock!
seven: i forgot to put on deodorant this morning and had to use the spray one we keep in our well stocked ladies room. now i smell like powdered baby butts.
eight: i get all weepy when i think about how tough a time this must be for anna nicole. what a weird thing for me to be focusing on.
nine: i find julian mcmahon attractive.
today is one of those days where i'm surprised by how easily everything goes on.
i feel this way for a two distinct reasons.
of course, the first is what happened five years ago. the way we live our lives changed. every bit of our lives were earned again. i find myself curling inwards in an effort to avoid reliving the day, if only because i still empathize so strongly that i'm not sure i could do it. i am devastated by what i imagine others to be feeling- not just today, but everyday- the constant phantom pain, the emptiness where there once was someone whom they loved. someone like robert l. cruikshank, age 64, who was the father of my friend.
the second reason is my sister, my little bee, whose birth i watched twenty years ago today, and who i was first to hold. everyday i know she isn't there, but today especially, i love her.
and every year, until we can find a middle ground, i will repeat these words for you.
* samantha *
we exist together only in these photographs, static
and two-dimensional. i love you out of habit.
strange little chrysalis, small and unripe
in my mind forever. i have not known your process or life,
you, who may also have my mother’s hands—
i haven’t seen them lately, i would not know. i can’t
escape thoughts of you thinking of me.
i fear in this exact moment you are feeling like an only
child. sometimes i have to remind myself that you are
real… for more than half your life we have lived apart
and i have missed everything, each word we should have shared,
but then i would not have picked them as carefully. now there
is so much lost in the endless sky between where i am and
las vegas. do you keep me in the back of your mind,
sister— do your memories, like mine, deceive?
or do you listen close at night, to see if you can hear me breathe?
which made me love this:
now proceed to the holiday goodness requests below. last year i made ornaments for everyone, customized for the recipient.
for example: for sarah smile, i made a sea horse. she likes strange animals.i need to know your preferences, or you will quite seriously receive something that is potentially horrid and grotesque. i'm collecting scabs at this very moment. those are for sprinkling on toast, but i have months to figure out something icky for you people.
for wombat, i made a christmas tree covered in eyes.
if you would like to be on the list (and were not already) please email me your address and favorite color. specifically. like not just "blue." i want to know if you like robin's egg blue, true blue, blueberry blue, or kool-aid blue. it's important. the safety of 81 civilians depends on it! actually, this may have nothing to do with anything, but i'd like to know.
if you have previously received holiday goodness (or goodness of other varieties) but have moved, please email me your updated information. and your favorite color.
if you don't, i'll be forced to make your gift based solely on what i think you should have. which is coal. and cod liver oil. and old bandaids.
in summary: cut and paste the following into an email addressed to me, then fill in the blanks (at least your name, address, and one of the assorted others) and then press the shiny send button.
something you like that maybe i woudn't think of:
polka dots or stripes:
also please note that i take no responisbility for your safety should you choose to reenact my weekend- especially the part with the englishman.
i am prone to falling asleep (read: passing the fuck out) when in the car for any length of time. strangely, i managed to say awake the whole way there. i credit this to the interesting scenery, which included cows, brown cows, black cows, white cows, and black and white cows. also the smell of cows for miles in every direction.
we also passed by some orchards and some fields. there were grapes and various fruit trees and a magnificent crop of something shiny, which i can only assume was sequins. they're best just before they're ripe.
we played a rousing car game called "tire or dead animal," which was more challenging than you might think.
there was a constant stream of trucks on the road carrying various food items. the first one we saw was shaped like a giant bathtub on wheels and looked as if it might spill over. we thought it was wood chips from afar, but it was potatos. potatos! very large, pretty much bowl sized potatos. later we saw an almond truck, which i imagine would smell nice were i allowed to burrow inside it. then in a moment of pure brilliance, i imagined utopia, and it was a giant loaf of freshly baked bread in which to burrow... and then eat my way out.
mostly we saw tomato trucks, and even when we lost sight of them there was a constant reminder- tomatos overboard, left for dead on the side of the road. (later, on the way home, we passed a truck full of ducks. i can't really explan that one.)
all of my people were in san francisco this past weekend. i don't know if this is a scientifically reliable representation, but seriously! the following groups of people were in san francsico this weekend, all readily available for my enjoyment:
def leppard (wooooooooo! rock!)
the rennaissance faire (woooooo! pantaloons!)
the arts and crafts exhibition (woooooo! stuff for making other stuff!)
the tattoo expo (wooooooo! awesomely painful body modification condemned by my religion as a whole!)
i think this makes it pretty clear that san francisco not only needs me, but desires me with the sort of smoldering white-hot lust that could only be matched by the heat created if i were to accidentally hump an englishman on the F line. which i did, so it's fall good.
and even after the whole very close touching debacle, the nice man gave us directions!
those directions led us to chinatown, where there are many many items in very small places. i almost bought chinese zodiac cookie cutters, because, why not? but i felt that they shapes weren't clearly defined. i mean, the boar looked prety much the same as the ox, and what is that bullshit?
you can see i look rumpled.
san francisco is incredibly cold. in august, in california, one should not have to wear two shirts and two sweaters and still be cold. this excursion has confirmed in my mind that going home for christmas to the boston area will be interesting, as i will surely step off the plane into the freezing cold desolation and promptly die.
san francisco requires specialty clothing, and not just thermal wear. i believe that my trip would have been far less dangerous (and had slightly less humping) had i been in possesion of stickypants™. in my understanding, stickypants™ would be much like regular pants, but with helpful treads along the bottom (like this) to keep your butt on the seat where it belongs. which would be nice when riding a cable car up a giant hill, or when sailing in the bay and the boat is suddenly sideways.
also important to note: when sailing in the bay with strangers, maybe don't make a big deal about how much you enjoy looking at prisons. even though there are two really large and spectacular ones right there, you probably shouldn't shriek "WOW!" because some people might find you creepy.
san francisco is also a hot spot for the viewing of boobs. i myself saw three naked pair, and one GLORIOUS pair that was only seminaked. during my most excellent dinner with chantel, xt, and jenL, we were forced (and i mean forced) to stage a "group photograph" in order to facilitate the positioning needed to snap a shot of their unearthly glow. when the owner of the breasts walked by me on my way out, i was possessed by the sudden and barely containable urge to shmoosh them together and bury my face in between. i think it was a religious experience.
and speaking of religious experiences... there was the wedding of strangers. it was far away. and by the time we were on the road, my feet were so swollen from the evil magic of witches that i had to buy a new pair of shoes. but the wedding location was beautiful, and the service was relatively short. the strangers seemed happy, which is always good, and looked lovely together. aside from the large and overwhelming presence of lord jesus, i would say it was nice. i did come armed with an awkward conversation avoidance tactic, just in case.
wedding guest: "blah blah blah wedding blah blah blah jesus?"
miss kendra: "i'm sorry. i don't know. i'm a scientologist. would you care for a free stress test?"
but we were hungry, so then we left and went to carls jr. we are class all the way.
the drive home was long. and dark. and long. next time i might fly just to avoid that. also because i drive a monster truck and the gas cost would be a month's rent.
all in all, san francisco was wonderful. i have already alerted jiggs casey to the fact that i would like to move there in the moderately near future, and as such he should begin decorating my room immediately.
i require a new year's dragon for my ceiling. i hope that can be arranged.