The Best Things in Life are Free

There are some things that are pretty gosh darn hard not to enjoy once you take the time to notice them. For instance, I really like talking to a long lost friend. My friend Abbie called me yesterday, and it was so nice to hear her voice. Those of you may argue that the phone call itself was not free, but alas, the time I got to talk to her and catch up a bit was priceless.

Here is a list of some things that are free that I am quite fond of:
1.) Staring into Stefan's eyes
2.) Weird and Bizarre dreams that make me say, "WTF was THAT?"
3.) Big, sun-shiny days
4.) quietness
5.) Fresh air in the mountains (oh, how I miss the Blue Ridge Parkway)
6.) Sleeping late because I don't have to work
7.) Getting a spark of creativity
8.) Feeling your lover's warmth in the morning
9.) Seeing a frog by my front door
10.)Goosebumps when I hear a song on the radio (usually Roy Orbison)
11.)When Stefan and I don't say anything toone another, but it's not awkward. Ever. (I told him, it's only awkward if you make it awkward.)
12.)Seeing a really beautiful color in your mind's eye when you orgasm
13.)Feeling loved
14.)Knowing you'll marry your lover someday, and give birth to their children
15.)The day before your birthday...
16.)Eating watermelon over the sink and letting the juice dribble down your arms and chin
17.)Fearlessness
18.)The wonderful feeling of having a ladybug land on you.
19.)Realizing you've finished your self-portrait. (That was wicked awesome...)
20.)Knowing all the lyrics to a favorite song, and getting it stuck in your head.


Anyway, my grandmother just came over, so I must entertain her. I hope that this makes you think of some things that make you happy without costing anything.

Love and Sunshine,
Mimi

I thought I graduated...

Yesterday was a bit irritating for me because I had to get my brother school supplies. He needed a backpack, some binders, and some pens. No biggie. I could not believe the insanity in the back to school department. All I kept thinking was, "I thought I graduated...why I am I still dealing with this bullshit?" I figure, by the time I have kids that need school supplies, I will have had 10 years of leisurely non-school supply shopping. But alas, no.

So my mom, who normally takes my brother to school, is out of town with her friends and couldn't take him. I was then held responsible for getting him to school on time this morning. And wouldn't you know it, the entire Riverview drop-off was all fucked up. The way they had it set up (which I didn't learn until after two cops gave me the mean cop face) is that drop-offs would have to come from Proctor, south onto Lords. Totally idiotic. Then, seniors who had a parking space, would have to go north on Lords, and thus pull into the massive concrete depression they call a parking lot. Completely silly. And I was supposed to know about all these new rules? When was I told? Not ever. So fucking stupid. So then I had a cop yell at me to only take Proctor to drop my little brother off, and some grumpy old lady with her hands on her hips yell at me for pulling over to the side of the road to let Bryan out of the car. I told her to blow it out her ass. The fact is, the piece of grass that connects from the ditch to the road, is not HER property, and really, what the fuck?! Does she not have anything better to do? If it is such a big deal, why didn't she sell the damn house back in '06 before the market bottomed out? If you can't put up with teenagers being dropped off in front of your house every morning, then you need to move. I'm sorry, but that's the truth.

Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that Riverview is constructing a new building and all, but geez louise, you'd think they could've thought of another way to handle the whole "drop-off/pick-up" situation. Our tax dollars at work.

Bryan is gonna have to start riding his bike, I guess. I did think of an alternative though so that I don't have to get yelled at nor go out of my way. I could drop off my brother right before the school's new concrete garden. Then just make a three point turn at the end of the street and go back the way I came. Makes sense to me. He could use the exercise anyhow.

The Perfect Job

I have worked for Target for two and a half years now, and I am MORE than ready for a change. I know what I am looking for in a job, but I can't seem to find an employer in Sarasota that has oppurtunities availible to my criteria.
I want a job that includes these things:
1) little to no interaction with the public
2) allows me to be creative and expressive
3) doesn't let people yell at me for their lack of planning
4) minimal amount of time spent on the phone with people who like to blast music, talk really loud (or soft), let their kids tell them things while they are on the phone with me, and all-around-crappy-phone-people. None would be great.
5) Not having a person with no experience in my industry tell me what to do.
6) A job that allows me to give advice, speeches, and pretty much just share my opinion freely.
7) and, finally, a job that pays me more than $9.00 an hour.

Am I asking too much? Sometimes I really wonder.

Rant...

...not like anyone reads this anyway. I ask everyone to, but nobody ever does.

My entire life I have been responsible for my brother. If we were in the store, it was my job to make sure he didn't grab stuff off the shelves. When we went to our gradparents' house in Texas, it was my job to make sure he didn't crak his head open in the pool, or get lost in the airport. My entire life has been making sure he didn't fuck up. Well now he's sixteen and there's not much I can do to ensure he doesn't fuck up. And sure enough, he has.

I am quite disappointed in him. He failed three classes, and therefore is not a junior this year, and is rather, a sophmore again. This would not have been so shocking if he hadn't been assuring me he was going to graduate on time all summer long. I, of course upon finding this out, am outraged. I have made such an effort to try to help him in anyway I can, but he just sits there, looking at me with a dumb blank stare, as though he's not really listening to me but instead imagining my head exploding.
Whats more, he believes that he is going to suddenly beconme some big hot-shot writer or film-maker, but he's made no efforts do try either. He writes, but only for himself, and doesn't ever check out books or anything on how to advance his writing skills. I read some of his work and it's all over the place. By no means organized and thought out. Nor, has he made any attempts to look into filmmaking outside of his TV production class, which I'm sure he's planning on taking all year long for the rest of his high school career. And yet, he flunked World History, and two foreign languages. He tells me that he's talked to guidance counselors, and they've all said that foreign language is not required to graduate, but is no excuse for flunking both French and German.
I have esentially stepped up to the plate as far as getting on my brother's academic case, simply because my parents can't. My dad works too damn hard to deal with his petty bullshit, and my mom simply has too much on her plate to emotionally deal with it. So I get left looking like the crazy bitch from hell, just because I'm, the only one that is able toi care. And I care because he's my little brother, and when he fucks up, I might as well have.
So now I am sitting here, printing out about fourty pages from the Riverview Program of Studies Guide, so that I can do what my brother should have months ago: figure out what he needs to do to graduate. And I'm still going to seem like thew bitch, because I am trying to help but it'll come off as nagging. Pardoxical, yes, but what the hell can I do? Damned either way. But I'll do it because it's my job.

Plastic Jesus

I love this song. It's orgininally by Ernie Marrs, but it's like trying to find a needle in the haystack to get the original version. If you search on You Tube for "plastic jesus", you'll find a Paul Newman version that is from the movie "Cool Hand Luke". Pretty good movie too. Anyhoo, here's the lyrics. I hope to learn how to play this on the ukulele.

Plastic Jesus by Ernie Marrs

Well, I don't care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

{Refrain}
Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through all trials and tribulations,
We will travel every nation,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

I don't care if it rains or freezes
As long as I've got my Plastic Jesus
Glued to the dashboard of my car,
You can buy Him phosphorescent
Glows in the dark, He's Pink and Pleasant,
Take Him with you when you're travelling far

{Refrain}

I don't care if it's dark or scary
Long as I have magnetic Mary
Ridin' on the dashboard of my car
I feel I'm protected amply
I've got the whole damn Holy Family
Riding on the dashboard of my car

{Refrain}

You can buy a Sweet Madonna
Dressed in rhinestones sitting on a
Pedestal of abalone shell
Goin' ninety, I'm not wary
'Cause I've got my Virgin Mary
Guaranteeing I won't go to Hell

{Refrain}

I don't care if it bumps or jostles
Long as I got the Twelve Apostles
Bolted to the dashboard of my car
Don't I have a pious mess
Such a crowd of holiness
Strung across the dashboard of my car

{Refrain}

No, I don't care if it rains or freezes
Long as I have my plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
But I think he'll have to go
His magnet ruins my radio
And if we have a wreck he'll leave a scar

{Refrain}

Riding through the thoroughfare
With his nose up in the air
A wreck may be ahead, but he don't mind
Trouble coming, he don't see
He just keeps his eyes on me
And any other thing that lies behind

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Though the sun shines on his back
Makes him peel, chip, and crack
A little patching keeps him up to par

When pedestrians try to cross
I let them know who's boss
I never blow my horn or give them warning
I ride all over town
Trying to run them down
And it's seldom that they live to see the morning

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
His halo fits just right
And I use it as a sight
And they'll scatter or they'll splatter near and far

When I'm in a traffic jam
He don't care if I say Damn
I can let all sorts of curses roll
Plastic Jesus doesn't hear
For he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Once his robe was snowy white
Now it isn't quite so bright
Stained by the smoke of my cigar

God made Christ a Holy Jew
God made Him a Christian too
Paradoxes populate my car
Joseph beams with a feigned elan
From the shaggy dash of my furlined van
Famous cuckold in the master plan

Naughty Mary, smug and smiling
Jesus dainty and beguiling
Knee-deep in the piling of my van
His message clear by night or day
My phosphorescent plastic Gay
Simpering from the dashboard of my van

When I'm goin' fornicatin
I got my ceramic Satan
Sinnin' on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
The women know I'm on the level
Thanks to the wild-eyed stoneware devil
Ridin' on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Sneerin' from the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor Home
Leering from the dashboard of my van

If I weave around at night
And the police think I'm tight
They'll never find my bottle, though they ask
Plastic Jesus shelters me
For His head comes off, you see
He's hollow, and I use Him for a flask

Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Ride with me and have a dram
Of the blood of the Lamb
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar

Astigmatism

I am WAY overdue for an eye exam. I think it's been almost 1.5 years. Pathetic. So my left eye keeps going out of focus, which is irritating when you're on the computer or talking to somebody. Hopefully, I will get them checked soon, because IU ought to just get it done and over with. Blech! Even thinking about the exam makes my eyes watery.


I am really craving a Key Lime Milkshake from Cheeburger Cheeburger. I am addicted to those. They are the perfect "I feel like crap" milkshakes. Yumm.... I swear, my mother must've been drinkin' a margarita when she concieved me. I love the taste of lime!

Here are some cool sites I found for those of you who actually read this:
www.daddyos.com
www.modemerr.com
www.thehornyrabbit.com
www.ephemera-inc.com
www.listentofeist.com
www.getrichslowly.org/blog
www.fguide.org

check back soon!

Don't tell me not to eat this...I'll poke you with my fork!

I love this cake. It is so earthy and hippy-fabulous.

Take a look at some more of these here cakes at www.JollyBeBakery.com

Yes, Will Marry You, But Not If You Buy Me a Diamond

Ladies, if you grew up with the "Diamond is Forever" marketing message drilled in your brains, I hope that you'll read on.

About 70 years ago De Beers, the Diamond giant, decided that daimonds weren't raking in the kind of profits that they wanted. Giving diamond engagment rings wan not common practice before the twentieth century. They decided that Diamonds needed to become more sentimental, and being the sentimental suckers we are, De Beers chose the American market as their target audience. The "A Diamond is Forever" was revolutionary, because it not only said that men must buy diamond engagement rings, but the actually worth of the diamond that he bought was in direct coorelation to the value he held on the girl, the relationship, and exactly how long the marriage was supposed to last. If you wanted to be with her forever, you'd better as hell buy her a diamond, and it had better be a big one. Thus, came the two-months salary rule to buying an engagement ring.

Now, De Beers having the monopoly it does on the diamond market, has a giant vault of diamonds that is kept under lock and key. The reason being that if they were to release those daimonds into the market, diamonds would no longer be rare, and therefore worthless. When buying diamonds of any kind, you are paying for their rarity. So essentially you're paying for De Beers to keep other diamonds away from the marketplace. It is quite a paradoxical situation.

Fakes, such as Moissanite(which is actually more brilliant than a diamond, and undetectable to the naked eye) and Synthetic, are far cheaper. Let's say that your significant other wants a pink diamond. You could get her a synthetic for a fraction of the cost, with fewer flaws, and a bigger one at that. Another example: A 1.0 carat diamond solitare ring will set you back $6,000. A 1.0 carat Moissanite solitare is about $450. No where near two-months salary and the difference is completely untracable to all of the people who will be staring at it for your entire engagement.

And really, if you're in it for the jewelry, you need to buy your own and promise me youll never reproduce. The fact is, that when you get engaged, most people show their true colors. The ones who are all over the ring aren't really your friends. They are shallow. It's the ones who want to know more about your relationship with your fiancee that are true-blue friends. I, myself, would rather not have a ring at all than to know that children in third-world countries were sold to the diamond factories. More than one-half of the world’s diamonds are processed in India where many of the cutters and polishers are bonded child laborers. Bonded children work to pay off the debts of their relatives, often unsuccessfully. When they reach adulthood their debt is passed on to their younger siblings or to their own children.

Blood Diamonds are a dispicable problem all over the world, but especially in Africa. Though many retailers of diamonds will offer a certificate for "conflict-free" diamonds, there is no reliable way to insure that your diamond was not mined or stolen by government or rebel military forces in order to finance civil conflict. Conflict diamonds are traded either for guns or for cash to pay and feed soldiers.

Why bother? If we're all a scam, why must people die simply so that some idiot can make his girlfriend cry and say "yes"? If you really love her, give her something that maimed or killed a child? Now THAT'S romantic? What the hell?

Ladies, Diamonds are not your friends.