Crinkle panties.

2007-09-14 3:00 a.m.

It's probably not a good idea to write about how depressed I am and then disappear for a week. Just so you guys know, I didn't kill myself. I am not blogging from beyond. That sounds like a really bad sit com. One that's trying to be hip and edgy but doesn't quite make it and gets canceled after one season. It would star Gena Torres and Bruce Campbell and be set in midamerica cyberspace. If it existed. Which it doesn't.

I guess the most exciting thing that's happened to me lately is I got to go to the dentist today. They scraped and shined my teeth and scolded me for drinking Diet Coke. I'm a sipper instead of a gulper and I guess that stains the teeth. The best part of the office visit (aside from the dental hygienist trying to give away feral kittens to me, I resisted temptation and said no) was I got a free toothbrush. Not just the normal pretty Oral B toothbrush with the squishy ergonomic handle. No, I got a free Electronic Toothbrush. The kind that hums, vibrates, rotates and is so powerful it can probably double as a sexual aid. Not that I tried. *ahem* So, anyway, they're giving away these high tech gadgets to their prettiest clients (so they said) and we have to report back in six months whether or not our teeth are cleaner, have less tartar and if our gums are stronger. It's all in the name of dental research. *holds toothbrush in the air* For Research! The hygienist told me to make sure I turn off the toothbrush before I take it out of my mouth or the entire bathroom will be covered in a fine mist of minty foam. Apparently, she learned this the hard way.

In other news, something rather amusing happened yesterday. I've been doing Leslie Sansome's walking videos because they're free in the On Demand feature of my cable (sort of like a Tivo for the cable box). Plus they're easy enough for me to do without passing out, barfing or swelling up. All good things in my book. So I'm doing the exercises and I have a little itch. Down there. Since I basically live alone and the cats weren't looking, I did a little scratch between heel lifts and my girlie bits crinkled. Crinkle? *scritch* *scritch* crinkle! Hrm. I finish the video (I'm dedicated to my one mile workouts) and investigate in the bathroom. I check out my pretty new Victoria Secret panties. They look quite nice, nothing that should crinkle. *scritch* *scritch* *rip!* I pulled off a little round sticker from my nether regions. It reads: "Inspected by Number 53." Most action I've had all year.

Gnarkh

2007-09-08 12:13 a.m.

I've been crying all week. Non stop. Like a crazy person. Do crazy people cry a lot? Actually, I don't think so. They scream, don't they? I haven't reached the screaming stage yet. I just break down until I go kind of numb, then I watch TV or work or read until I'm kind of functional and back in the real world. Hrm. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing: seeing guru/psychologist, taking pills, engaging in positive self talk, exercising, eating healthy, blah, blah, blah, but it's no use. Perhaps it is. Maybe if I wasn't doing those things I'd be naked in the corner pulling out my hair. And I'm not. See. Positive self talk. I rock. More positive self talk. My ass rules. See? I think I need to be rebooted and have my operating system reinstalled. Perhaps a custom install with an updated graphics card. Blah. I can't even write a coherent witty blog entry. I haven't done anything blog worthy and I'm too lazy to make up something interesting.

Ho hum. Emphasis on the ho.

Here's some quasi news. I've discovered something neat-o about my cable box. I've enjoyed using the "on demand" feature before. It's sort of like a mini Tivo box that someone else puts stuff on. It has some fun things from the anime channel and I can catch any CSI episodes my Tivo missed. Well, I was dorking around and discovered the Exercise Channel. I don't actually get the Exercise Channel on my cable line up, but On Demand has a shitload of programs stored on it that I could watch for free. I've discovered Leslie Sansone, who's apparently been teaching walk aerobics for a bazillion years. I've been walking a mile a day while swining around 3 pound hand weights without too much pain and suffering. My ankles swell and it's hard to walk later on but I figure it's better for my ankles to hurt now rather than for me to gain quadilloin pounds and damage them permanently with excess weight later on. I also discovered a perky asian/latino woman with a British accent (so freaking cute) who leads an aerobics class that I can't keep up with, but has a mini ab class that rocks. There's also a hilarious African American woman who does these screams like she's in pain during her workouts. She's a hoot. I used to be totally up to date on all the fitness celebrities, but these people are all new to me. So I've been Tivoing a bunch of walking programs and have been doing a mile a day. Not much, but pretty good for a disabled chick. Maybe next week I'll bump it up to two miles. I'm off to hug my cats. Don't cry for me Argentina.

Taking Hostages

2007-09-02 1:23 a.m.

It's been really strange but new characters have been popping up the last couple of days and following me around. I'm used to my established characters bugging me but not a whole cast of new characters converging on me at once. I had a long talk with a really nice gay police officer about crime solving techniques and his theories on why Horatio Caine is so moody (lost a boyfriend in college to violent crime). Another character that's been following me around is a heavyset voodoo priestess named Ruby. She's pretty cool and very wise. Plus she makes some rocking Creole food. I brought home some work for the long weekend but I want to get some more writing done and let these character talk on paper so they'll quit talking to me when I'm trying to drive or grocery shop. I'm not talking back to them but I am heavily distracted. Oh the life of an insane writer. I really like the picture above. It took me a couple of hours to finesse in Photoshop! Oy. It's what happens when I don't let my muse come out to play often enough. She gets angry and holds me hostage. She's tired of all the dry medical and legalese writing I've been doing and wants sex scenes, fight scenes and wild emotions. I shall try to placate her. Much love to whoever started the new 12 Beer page for September, Golfwidow? You rock!

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