tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32576952009-11-14T06:45:25.930-07:00I started this blog in December of 2001, and although the posts have become sporadic, and completely devoid of anything other than banale rhetoric, it's still alive... and I'm glad.bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.comBlogger511125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-22624768177455095022009-08-26T17:17:00.001-06:002009-08-26T17:17:27.163-06:00

Write bitch write. Those are the only words of advice I have for myself. It’s been over a year since I quit writing altogether. No more online journal entries, no more stories on napkins not even mini notebooks. Nothing.I quit altogether. Other than two cathartic poems that haunt me, I have nothing to show for an entire year of my life. It is the first time in 15 years that I have no record

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-86439088206056699402009-06-17T12:53:00.003-06:002009-06-17T13:50:05.420-06:00

Dearest Internets, By now you are well versed in the fact that Bounce is ape shit crazy.But now I am treading in waters I've never been in... and I'm scared that a tidal wave will bowl me over and leave me a tattered mess at the bottom of the waters.And there is so much updating to do - this may be a multi pronged story.So let's start at the beginning.When I first met D, he was a "random". There

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-40715942201642240502009-02-26T11:02:00.002-07:002009-02-26T11:11:50.456-07:00

Ok, So last week I was in a funk.And now time for Bounce's True Confessions.I am a jealous crazy insecure freak.The reason I was really in a funk was because I was snooping through D's email. And the more I read these missives back and forth between the ex, the more hysterical I was getting.Finally one morning I called home from work."Honey, you need to change your passwords. I've been reading

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-91109319548679773412009-02-12T09:07:00.003-07:002009-02-12T10:06:03.462-07:00

I've sunk into a funk. I love the way that sounds. But the truth is I hate the way it feels. My worklife is complicated. I've more than stagnated at work, I've started back sliding. I am going to make the ridiculous decision to take a backwards step at work so that I can improve my standing in the company. The theory being that once I've reproven myself I can finally advance again. But it

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-4093493488966736342009-02-09T14:59:00.004-07:002009-02-09T15:10:46.660-07:00

Who Remembers THIS Song?Yesterday I wore the Sweater belonging to a boy.Well my boy.And there really is something glorious about wearing the sweater belonging to a boy... and more importantly when the sweater belongs to "your boy" there's something beyond glorious.This is thrilling for me on two counts. Firstly, I was never ever "small enough" to fit into any boy's sweater.Secondly, it's my

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-6772240651450220212009-01-23T11:28:00.003-07:002009-01-23T12:49:40.546-07:00

It is well documented amongst these pages that I suffer from rampant uncontrollable jealousy. Often times this jealousy has been warranted. Often times it has been exacerbated by circumstance and situation.Dating "the guy" was a terrible example of when natural silly jealousies are exacerbated by circumstance and situation. Can you imagine loving a guy or a girl... just imagine... and wanting to

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-67417870621359930302009-01-22T11:36:00.004-07:002009-01-22T11:55:56.672-07:00

"Honey, I will stand by you no matter what, and I want you to give me babies!"This is the phrase that became the turning point in my relationship.There has been no reneging on the deal. There has been no hesitation. There has been copious practice in the art/act of copulation.But I confess that I was worried. What if the pressure is too much. I don't mean the pressure to change one's entire

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-35103797308221037672009-01-19T10:44:00.004-07:002009-01-22T11:55:39.414-07:00

I know that I should be... but I'm not a big believer in privacy. I understand - no that's not true - I have read and acknowledge that it's probably very important in a relationship, but I just can't fathom it as being IMPORTANT. I'm of the opinion if you've got nothing to hide, why do you need privacy? Which is probably very unfair, as everyone ought to have "a room of their own". Alduous

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-91985229894004359182009-01-16T15:00:00.006-07:002009-01-22T12:14:31.254-07:00

Soooooooooo, took a giant step and gave yet another family member this url... (hi honey).Was hesitant to do so... because I've been so far removed from that side of the family that well... they know nothing about me.The label "black sheep" doesn't even come close to describing my position... I always just get the feeling I'm "just someone that they used to know".**********************************

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-64339417619888486812008-12-10T22:47:00.006-07:002009-01-16T17:26:42.597-07:00

Do you remember a hundred years ago, when I threatened to write more... and then I never did?Yeah, that probably won't change.I keep promissing Kgrrl that I'll write again... apparently we can add chronic liar and flake to my myriad faults.I want to write more... but how do I let you know all the real things happening in my life when they're one big giant secret... ... and by secret... I mean

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-48054895076816310972008-06-04T15:39:00.003-06:002008-06-04T15:42:47.986-06:00

this doesn't necessarily mean that i'm back... it just means i popped in to say hi

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-74477880980747582022007-05-18T12:41:00.001-06:002009-01-16T17:27:17.080-07:00

hissing geese protecting their nests - the most beautiful thing i've ever seenthe man who adopted me just hit reply all to an email his daughter - my half sister sent (my baby Methusaleh who already has her own baby..)... he has avoided me for 17 years... i responded Hi? how are you? i wonder if he'll reply... i wish he loved me.

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1169684969285412562007-01-24T17:29:00.000-07:002007-01-26T16:34:26.052-07:00

You scored as Postmodernist. Postmodernism is the belief in complete open interpretation. You see the universe as a collection of information with varying ways of putting it together. There is no absolute truth for you; even the most hardened facts are open to interpretation. Meaning relies on context and even the language you use to describe things should be subject to analysis.

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1166057242355375062006-12-13T17:25:00.000-07:002009-01-22T11:57:58.199-07:00

Mammers (the woman who gave birth to me over 33 years ago) is in Utah right now with Methuselah and Gideon (her twin daughters - my half sisters). Both Girls are/were pregnant. Methuselah actually just gave birth to a little girl...and Gideon is due any day now. The twins are 26 years old. Their little brother (my half-brother) Ginky has apparently (in the venacular) knocked up his

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1162280727308595962006-10-31T00:40:00.000-07:002006-11-02T09:17:07.480-07:00

Dearest Maman,The last time I see you will be in a Home Sense or Linens 'n' Things store. I don’t know if this is before Christmas of last year or after Christmas. But I hope that it is before Christmas, because with the phenomenal knowledge of hindsight, I don’t want our last meeting to have been bittersweet for you. I hope that the last time I see you is before you are diagnosed with Cancer.

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1150756977491029532006-06-19T16:42:00.000-06:002006-06-19T16:42:57.510-06:00

Everybody knows about W.I.B (West Indies Beauty – for the uninformed), but nobody’s ever heard speak of Nathan. Nathan was always peripheral. Nathan is no longer peripheral; something in which I was ironically instrumental.Nathan is WIB’s brother. I have vague memories of playing “exploration” games with him as a kid. We’d be in the basement of WIB’s Ranchlands townhouse. And WIB, Nathan and

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1148064466044378882006-05-19T12:46:00.000-06:002006-05-19T12:47:46.056-06:00

Last night Mr Neighbour and I were having some tender minutes together.All very G rated. It was the nuzzling and kissing type of affection that sometimes gets lost along the way. We get busy with our lives and move into the R rated affection with the practised manoeuvres that are most likely to elicit the expected response in the quickest amount of time. Ignoring the tenderness and affection

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1147889242509671732006-05-17T11:35:00.000-06:002006-05-17T12:12:34.656-06:00

So I visited Carrie's page today.And she was "strumming my pain with her fingers".And it makes me want to write about the exact same feelings.And it makes me wonder what deficiency I have.And it makes me feel better that if I have a deficiency, there's someone out there with the same deficiency.And it makes me feel better that she worries that other people will find this out about her, because I

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1147123983120961112006-05-08T15:16:00.000-06:002006-05-08T15:40:45.283-06:00

So Medium Tits just sent me an email with this link...Oh dear I laughed.... because it's so me... and W.I.B. (west indies beauty).As seen on Break.comanway, this weekend has been hellishly long.quick synopsis as I wrote it to Minegrrrl.Mr Neighbour's parents and grandmother were in town this weekend, so we were swamped.On Friday night we (Mr Neighbour and Bounce) went to an interactive play

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1146598068638449822006-05-02T13:13:00.000-06:002006-05-02T14:16:22.043-06:00

Abhorrently sexist, brilliantly fantastic, magically enthralling, dim and silly, deep and intricate, the Calgary Opera performance of The Magic Flute was all this and more.It’s a silly opera. It’s a beautiful opera. I want to be the Queen of the Night. I want to sing like the Queen of the Night. I want to wear the fancy costumes.In my former life (we’ll call that BmN - Before Mr Neighbour), the

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1145905840922117682006-04-24T13:10:00.001-06:002006-04-24T13:17:14.920-06:00

Please tell me that orange and yellow are the new black.Please tell me that a mottled tiger shadings are the new colour du jour.Please tell me that a beautiful bouquet of autumn red, orange and yellow gerber daisies are the must have flowers for new brides.Please tell me that brass is the new platinum.Please tell me these things.Please tell me that McCuts is the new Jose Ebert salon.I only ask

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1144089828406519232006-04-03T12:43:00.000-06:002006-04-03T12:43:48.430-06:00

The man on the bus who sat next to me this morning kept rolling little bits of snot between his index finger and thumb.My dress is made of a stretch material that keeps snagging on my stubbly (albeit shaven only yesterday) legs.I want to post my family’s genealogy, but apparently have to wait until everyone’s dead first. Apparently my great grandfather Chuck-Harry (name altered to protect his

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1143150790694518732006-03-23T14:53:00.000-07:002006-03-23T14:53:11.033-07:00

Never EnoughThis is so sad... and real... and raw... and I wonder if this is what Peter's wife is going through...

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1140111228658634332006-02-16T09:55:00.000-07:002006-02-16T11:35:03.516-07:00

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand break!Okay, so got all reactionary and stoopid yesterday.Came home.Bit Mr Neighbour's head off.Decided to chillax. Stood on the scale.He urged me out of his mood in his noble calming loving way.Have lost 10lbs in about 7 weeks.Not complaining.Send emails to Trainer detailing eating habits, she says " chillax."I'm losing slowly, I'm exercising at least 3 times a week. And if I'm

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3257695.post-1139933059225645272006-02-14T09:01:00.000-07:002006-02-14T09:04:19.243-07:00

ok, so the weekend sucked ass.Pizza on Sunday - but huge quantities...as in one whole cheese bread from Little Caesars... so we're not even going to discuss the weekend.Let's move onto Monday... which wasn't much better, but I remember it more clearly... less of a junk food haze...Breakfast, one egg, plus one egg white... (it was supposed to be two egg whites, but one of my yolks dropped in the

bouncehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15960988418059775290noreply@blogger.com5