Confessions of a Southern Martyr

a long night in a dark wood

2009-07-02T00:59:00.003-05:00

It is 1:30am.
I have restored the InterWebs.
Again.
It wasn't gremlins this time.
It was dragons.
I may never fully recover.
Neither will the groundhog.

Woe Unto Me!

2009-07-01T10:55:00.006-05:00

Oh InterWebs! Why hast thou forsaken me?! Do I not worship at your altar daily? Do I not type my fingers to the bones? Yet, in the hour of my greatest need, you abandon me. With a thunderous laugh and flashing a quick cruel and blinding smile, you smote my Router where he stood. What is it that you require of me? I have no Geek to offer in sacrifice. I am but a lowly User. I know no incantations, wield no enchanted teeny tiny screwdriver. Alas, I am not 133t.

Epiphany

2009-06-18T22:30:00.003-05:00

Did battle with the router demons once again. Dragon slain, gremlins banished, peace and the Interwebs restored to my wooded kingdom once again.

While perched atop a ladder in the middle of the woods with my itty bitty pink laptop balanced on one hand while ants crawled down my other arm from the router's power cord, I had a rare moment of clarity. I realized something that I've always known, yet seem to forget every time my heart is broken: I don't NEED anybody.

Yeah, I'm a Daddy's girl, and it was nice when Dad drove by on the four-wheeler and asked if I needed any help buying a new router. But I was able to tell him in all honesty that it didn't matter. I do use the internet to do work from home sometimes, but I could always wander down to my old house or even just drag a chair out under the tree in the middle of the woods where the router is and plug into the ethernet cable.

I've always been like that. Wood burning stove as the only source of heat? No problem! Wringer washer? Who cares! No television? I have books! I've always been independent. I've always been a bit weird. I've always been a bit of a hermit. Those things don't change and neither does the fact that it's nice to have someone around who can and will help you, but in the end if you can't do it yourself then you'd better not really NEED it or else you'll find yourself without it one day. Whether that something happens to be love, or running water, or the Interwebs, I've always been able to cope before and I haven't changed one bit.

Needs and wants are two different things altogether. I want the Interwebs so I went out and figured it out myself. If I want love I'll figure that out for myself too. Yeah, I miss what I had with The Geek, but if it's gone I can live without it...

Hot tea & a Cold heart

2009-06-14T09:09:00.006-05:00

Been okay lately, right up until yesterday. Went out for a couple of glasses of wine with an old friend on Friday night. Awake until 2am. Thought I was actually kinda moving on. Then BAM! weird things start happening way too early in the morning for me to do anything but deal with everything through gut reaction. Geek has a bit of a problem which requires me to talk to him again, toss in a little bit of guilt on my side about the wine & the friend from the night before... That's when things start to get confusing for me. I know it's done & gone, but when we talk it sounds & feels just like it always has. Comfortable, familiar... Geek thinks that's the problem, that we somehow slipped past love and into comfortable and then got stuck. I'm not sure that was the case for me. The whole reason that I opened up to him in the first place was because I was completely and instantaneously comfortable around him - like we'd been best friends forever. Anyway... that's why it all slides sideways for me when he & I talk like that.

I cried a little yesterday. I felt sorry for myself a little yesterday. I talked about it with my friends and it put some things in perspective again. I guess it's just one of those things that will get easier and easier with time. I still care about Geek. I can't quite close that door... yet. However, I also realized yesterday that I had let go of him little bit by little bit over the past few years. Not sure what any of this means to the future and I'm not sure it really matters right now.

So, this morning I'm drinking hot tea and trying to thaw my frozen heart. Today is a different day and tonight will be a different night...

Melancholy Muse

2009-06-11T12:14:00.003-05:00

Having you, was like drinking spring water from my hand.
Natural, pure, bittersweet,
and all too quickly slipping between my fingers.
Now, I sit with parted lips pressed to palm,
savoring the cold numbness,
and wondering if I've drunk my fill.

~ Southern Martyr 6/11/09

As I said before, my muse has found me once again. I don't know if I'll keep posting the little quick things I write, but for now it helps put things in perspective and believe it or not it actually makes it all much much easier. If I can channel a little grey funk into a poem or even just a meaningless string of words on paper, then somehow it's gone from my mind afterwards. I guess it's my way of passing it all on to the dragon who never sleeps...

A moment of painful honesty... with myself.

2009-06-11T08:21:00.004-05:00

This morning I took a long hot bath.
Rummaging through almost empty bottles
while water slipped down my sleepy face,
I realized I was out of shampoo.
That I would have to use his.
That today would be another struggle.

~Southern Martyr 6/11/09

Been a Long Time Comin'

2009-06-09T11:45:00.003-05:00

I've been neglecting this blog for ages now. I've also been neglecting the people I love and myself. So, it's no small wonder when the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. Work has consumed me for the past 2 years. I still feel a huge personal obligation to myself to follow through on what I've worked so long and hard to do. However, I now fully realize the toll it has taken on the rest of my life. I still can't just up and throw it all away, but I can take a deep breath and step back and get a little perspective... even if it's forced perspective.

Thus begins the first day of the rest of my life. Which actually occurred about a week ago, but I've been so busy that I'm just now getting around to acknowledging it. My Geek moved out. I miss him & I'm not going to close any doors, but in leaving the door open I can't keep anybody else from wandering inside either.

I am going to start up bellydance classes again as soon as the new class schedule starts up in July. Right now I am going to yoga classes once a week. The dog is slightly traumatized by the whole situation, so I've been taking him out for REALLY long walks in the evenings. (If I don't take him outside & walk him till he begs to go back inside, then he has trouble sleeping and insists on laying awake on the floor beside my bed moping and farting all night long.) When I'm stressed out I don't eat very much, so between the stress, the yoga, and walking the traumatized dog, I'm losing weight and feeling better than I have in a long time.

I've also started really writing again. My muse abandoned me long ago. It seems he only lingers with me while my emotions are in chaos. He has returned with a passion, now that I am heartbroken and confused. He visits me while I am wandering through the woods in the late afternoon and I lure him back home to my desk with the promise of hot tea and a tale of woe. After tea and a discussion of life's struggles, he often lounges among the books stacked untidily in the corner and encourages me as my fingers stumble across the keyboard. Finally, after a glass of wine and a heart wrenching haiku, I will topple into bed beside my black cat and my muse will gently kiss my eyelids and allow me sleep.

Work is still hard. There are personal and personality conflicts that I would rather not put to the page. Suffice it to say, I've dealt with this kind of thing before and I do have a plan B if all else fails. I'll survive work a lot easier than the unknowns of my personal life. I'm just keeping my head down and my foot out of my mouth. There is a light at the end of this tunnel, even if it seems a long distance to travel.

My Daddy told me recently that "Every day above ground is worth it's pain." I think that just might be one of my new favorite qoutes. There's another qoute that always creeps into my mind when the rug is pulled out from under me: "When a dog runs at you, whistle for him." ~Henry David Thoreau.

I'm hoping that I can keep the creative juices flowing and maybe get my life together while I'm at it. I think that one way to do that is to keep writing - anything, anytime, anywhere. It's what I did all the other times my life seemed to crumble around me. I'm going to try and post something, anything, on this blog at least once a week. That's my starting point. Maybe, if I can manage that, then I might possibly start posting a little bit of my writing. I don't know. No matter what comes, I have decided that I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other and see where I end up. And I think that if I write a little bit, dance a little bit, and keep my friends close to my heart, then I'll at least enjoy the journey.

I realize that this post is a long & rambling explanation of something that no one besides myself cares about, but that's how I deal with things. I write them down. I bind them to the page and they don't seem so overwhelming anymore. They become nothing more than flowers pressed between the pages in an old book, until one day I find them again and can't remember why I put them there in the first place. Also, sometimes I just like shouting into the void...

a strange thing happened on the way to...

2009-04-12T12:15:00.009-05:00

I was driving. Minding my own business, when I was delighted to see something that just struck me as peculiar (Pardon the finger shadows - I was driving 70 miles an hour at the time):

Yup, that's a basketball goal in the back of a truck. But that wasn't necessarily the part that made me watch in wonder... What caught my eye was that the net part was flying out behind it like a wind sock! I have seen basketball goals lying down on the ground and I have seen basketball goals folded back into the rafters of gymnasiums, but I have never seen a basketball goal lying down with the net still so neatly round as if waiting for that perfect jump shot. It was fascinating - at least to me. Plus, I kept wondering if I pulled in front of it and tossed something out the window if it would be at all possible to score 2 points...

a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese?

2009-03-14T02:05:00.006-05:00

It is 3:14am. I do not usually blog when I am unable to sleep, however I have found being awake in the wee small hours of this particular morning, all alone, to be a little more than my sanity can apparently bear. I am recording this stream of consciousness to prove to myself that this is indeed NOT one of those horrifying "dream within a bout of insomnia within a dream."

I awaken an hour and a half ago - startled bolt upright in bed by the realization that I had been singing the chorus to Rihanna's "Umbrella" over & over again in my sleep. I was then startled while getting myself a drink of water by the realization that Rihanna's song "Umbrella" is simply one giant chorus. I was further startled while scrounging around looking for some Tums by hearing myself very clearly and distinctly announce to an empty house "Ou est un Pamplemousse. Je suis le Pamplemousse!" It has been nigh on 17 years since my last French class, but I know without a doubt that that translates to "In the east a grapefruit. I AM the Grapefruit!"

I'm pouring myself some SoCo, turning on my iPod, and praying sanity finds me before dawn.

Last night - A Dream Study

2009-02-21T11:48:00.004-05:00

I was getting married

in a pink dress

which was being decorated

with pink FROSTING roses

when someone brushed my hair

and made me cry

a midget swore to kill me on my honeymoon

yet was willing to give me a sporting chance

Barbie gave a pep talk to convince him

to go through with his threat

it apparently didn't matter to her

that my family raised fish

Open Letter from the Dog

2009-01-06T19:00:00.005-05:00

Dear Poseidon,
It has now rained for three and a half months. Please make it stop. Please. The grass is always wet. The dirt is wet. These things make my feet wet. Wet feet make it hard for me to pee. Do you know what else makes it hard to pee? Raindrops. They're distracting. They are usually cold. They are always wet. I like to pee. I have to pee outside (I still don't know why - there was a tree in house for about twenty minutes, but they wouldn't let me pee on it. Not that I tried. I wouldn't do that.) I don't like the rain. My owner likes the rain, but then again she also likes cats. Can you do something about the cats? I guess I should probably talk to Anubis or maybe the Sphinx... The rain. Please to stop the rain. You can have my favorite floss bone.

Wags & Licks,
The Dog

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to 2009...

2008-12-30T00:51:00.006-05:00

I have a "friend" going through a very tough time right now. They were very supportive of me when I was going through a very tough time. So I spent the evening talking to them and being supportive. I had called My Geek earlier in the evening to inform him of said supportive tough time talk. Geek is aware of said tough time and is also supportive though not as close to the friend and does not talk.

My Geek has a bit of a tough time this time of year also. I have a tough time this time of year. My mother has a tough time this time of year. And on December 29, 2008 they all intersected in a truly spectacular way.

My Geek had spent the entire evening working in the out of doors restoring the Interwebs to us by endlessly adjusting the routers which transfer a wireless internet signal between three houses and through the deep, dark, & panic inducing woods to our house. He did not check his voicemail to hear my explanation of the aforementioned tough time talk. He instead stumbled up through the woods to find a large truck idling in his driveway at 9:30pm. He proceeds to call me in a slight panic.

I, being a good and decent friend, have turned off my cell phone so as not to belittle nor interrupt aforementioned tough time talk. My Geek, who has a tough time this time of year, has been having nightmares recently. My Geek should not go without sleep, due to yet other more recent tough times. This along with prolonged physical exertion, probably a little low blood sugar, a dark and creepy wood, a monster truck idling in his driveway, his girlfriend nowhere to be found, not answering her phone AND a little extra emotional tough time of the year baggage thrown in for good measure and he proceeds to stalk through the woods panicked, calling & text messaging me for the next 20-30 minutes.

I, being a good and decent friend, am completely unaware of any of this. My friend finally assures me that he will be okay. I return satisfied of being a good and decent friend to my home only to find it empty. I pull out my phone to call MY Geek and see a voicemail notification. I check my voicemail. It sounds like something from The Blair Witch Project. It's My Geek out of breath, twigs snapping underfoot, asking where I am and what's wrong and what's that truck?! and then the message just cuts off mid sentence. I call him. He's out of breath. He's in the woods. He's mad. It is now 10pm. He hangs up on me.

I wander out of doors to meet him at the top of the trail and try to smooth things out or maybe start a fight. (Sometimes I try not to overthink these things and just go with what feels right in the moment, you know.) I reach the trail, in the dark, and am startled by what I think to be My Geek. However, this figure, though as tall as My Geek, is not agitated as My Geek would have been. This figure, I soon realize, is My Mother. We raise our arms in mutual bewilderment, like two mimes. My Geek stomps up the trail, passes between the two of us (still in prolonged shrugs like two sarcastic Greek statues), and then proceeds to stomp into the house and turn off all the lights.

My Mother turns to me, hugs me, hugs me again, hugs me a third time while slightly rocking me back & forth, and then announces at the top of her lungs...

"Happy Festivus!"

Indeed.

*All is well now. And I thank my lucky stars for my Geek, my friends (all five or six of you) and my family. I hope 2009 brings us all the best - and when it doesn't I'll remember why I love you all so much! Thank you all.

Arrrrggghhh!

2008-12-17T13:46:00.008-05:00

My pirate name is:

Mad Bess Bonney

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Plus, I had to use the "Edit Html" tab on this post cause their code wasn't Copy & Paste worthy. Now who's a Pirate?!

Forgotten but Not Gone

2008-11-06T15:45:00.002-05:00

I've been really frazzled & scattered & screwed up all summer. My writing has suffered, my personal life has suffered, and my poor neglected blog has suffered. But with fall slowly decaying around me I feel freshly inspired. I replied to MyBestestFriend's email today with the following message and I think it sums up how things are going for me right now:

"I’m not sure what the hell happened this afternoon… I think my muse might be back. He’s been lounging around just outside the corner of my eye, teasing me while I’m trying to work, and whispering wonderfully brazen ideas in my ear while I’m sleeping. I’m thinking of trying to lure him out into the open with coffee, absinthe, and an old typewriter."

I'm still really busy, however I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be making the time to dabble with my favorite creative outlets very soon...

I'm magic!

2008-08-21T14:02:00.003-05:00

I disappeared for 2 months!
I'm back. I'm still working harder and longer than I would like, but I have made a few decisions about how I am going to spend my time.

I have decided that if my BigStupidHero can work like a maniac and still have time to write a little, rant a little, and stay in touch with his friends via the IntraWeb ~ then so can I!

My Faerie godbaby, Puppy, is doing wonderfully disgusting things. His mother, MyBestestFriend, has a new blog, but I don't know if I'm allowed to link to it. I'll have to ask permission first ~ after all she's a MOM now so you ALWAYS have to ask permission first. I'm going to have to start taking the camera over when I visit. I'm pretty sure I can get some really interesting abstract art out of that little critter. By the way, I have decided that sitting and holding Puppy is really relaxing and fun. It's like playing with a kitten ~ a drooling, farting, hairless kitten with poor motor skills.

Myself, MyBigStupidHero, and three other friends went camping last weekend. We had fun. The lake was a little on the chill side, but a rousing game of "gently toss the nerf ball" kept the blood pumping enough to prevent hypothermia. It's been a while since I've actually had to sleep in a sleeping bag on the ground and that was not something I missed. I got smoke in my eyes pretty good while trying to start the fire. Couldn't light the damned brand new cook stove. And two (TWO!) of my fake "vegetarian" hotdogs fell into the fire. But there was great conversation, truly inappropriate humour, lots of food, and campsite neighbors whose only flaw was keeping a radio going all night just faintly enough that you kept trying to figure out what song was playing. I did not take this picture of our campsite, it was simply emailed to me after I returned home. I think Big Foot has a digital camera.

I'm So Smart I'm Stupid

2008-06-03T12:33:00.002-05:00

I read. A lot. I'm a poet. So sometimes when I read something I'm thinking about other things... Ponies, kittens, sex, those geometric patterns left in drying mud. Anyway. I was looking up an address on RandMcNally.com (because MapQuest sucks) and I'm skimming the page trying to zoom in close enough to see what I need to see when suddenly I spot a word. A wonderful word. A word I think I know vaguely, but I realize with a fluttering heart that I've never seen it used this way before. Could it be? It makes perfect sense to me. I know EXACTLY what it's saying. "Recenter." And then I see it again. "Recenter maps on address." How original. How playful. I am feeling that same feeling as the first time I read Clockwork Orange.

Then I see the big picture. There is nothing new under the sun. Everything is as it was. The muck of mundanity sucks at my shoes and my brain plods slowly and deliberately back to work.

For those who care, there was a fleeting moment when the word "Recenter" filled my mind as the most beautifully off kilter way to state "More Recent." Now I feel melancholy and rather stupid. I don't even have the excuse of having been incapcitoxicated.

Bippity-boppity-booyah!

2008-06-02T10:59:00.003-05:00

I'm a Faerie godmother!
My bestestfriend in the whole wide world gave birth to her life long burden Friday morning. He was a big baby-8lbs 11oz. Which means I won the bet and not only will I NOT be changing shitty diapers on our first Mall Crawl together, but I'll also be getting a fabulous prize (that DOESN'T come wrapped in a diaper)! I am so glad that everyone seems to be unscathed by the whole horrifying experience. I have crocheted a blanket, made a draft blocker for the scary closet door, tie dyed onesies & receiving blankets, made a sage smudge stick, fixed up a "Welcome Home" basket for the mommy which includes the first 2 seasons of Perfect Strangers, and found the perfect little buddha for Puppy's room.

I'm busy as hell at work, but I am soooo looking forward to being able to stop by and see the little gross bundle of poop after work. It will be so nice to watch him & play with him and then still be able to go home at the end of the night and have sex and drink and curse and then sleep late the next morning without any real worries. Yippeee! It's not my kid!

Spring and other things

2008-04-25T15:03:00.002-05:00

I've been working my ass off lately, not sleeping very well, and just been generally pissed off at the entire world. It happens every fucking spring. I hate the color green, I hate pollen, I hate humidity, I hate warm weather. Spring has always reminded me of kudzu - this choking green cover that seems to smother everything.

And now for something COMPLETELY different.
This is what MyBigStupidHero had for lunch yesterday:

I ate the same thing minus the dead animal and broccoli casserole (I've always suspected there's something lurking in there I don't want... maybe chicken broth) plus a side of fried squash. Very very good. Well, okay, so maybe life isn't so fuckin' bad after all when a vegetarian can go out to lunch with her friends and have some kick ass southern cooking. Thanks for making me leave my little grey funk at the office, ThomAss!

I have not fallen off the face of the earth...

2008-04-11T14:29:00.003-05:00

Though there have been times in the past few weeks when it would have been nice to have had that option. Work is HORRIFYING! I hate being a grown up! I hate having a job where I can't say what I really think about people and situations. I may be blunt and brutaly honest, but at least I am tactful and take other people's feelings into consideration! Have I mentioned I hate my job? I don't especially like living in a house with another human being at the moment either, but I really do love my Geek and would be lost without him so I just apologize to him every day for being so prickly and angry about stuff. I'm just frustrated. Frustrated! I could SO easily become a hermit. I would LOVE to be a hermit! A lonely old witch living off in the woods by herself. I like alone. I like not quite right. I like silence and darkness. I like reading out loud. I like a bottle of SoCo and bad movies. I like wine and Mozart. I like vodka and punk. I like quilts and cats and books. I like soft grass and warm sun. I feel like I'm losing myself. I'm just overwhelmed, that's all. It happens about every 2 years. I'll get over it. Probably by drinking and writing and reading and being a little more me. My apologies to everyone who has to put up with my melodramatic ass.

my addiction

2008-03-21T21:00:00.006-05:00

Hello, my username on GoodReads.com is iammyself, and I'm addicted to books. I encourage all my friends (all 8 of you!) to also admit to this debilatating habit. Books have interfered with my work and personal life. Books made me neglect housekeeping and sleep. Books have made me go without food and eat things I shouldn't. Books have made me fall recklessly in love and thrown me into fits of rage. Books have been my crutch and my balm. I mix books with liquor sometimes and chocolate more often. I have feigned headaches to be allowed to finish a good book in peace.

Now I start a new chapter. I am going to try and catalog and then review what lines my bookshelves, rises in towers on my tables, desks, and dresser, rests in stacks on my spare room's floor, and hides beneath my bed. I will hold nothing back, I will show all my literary diet - even the smut and fluff and drivel. For we are what we read. I may not like my hair or my mouth and I might be self consicous about my various curves, but I will never be ashamed to lay bare my literary soul. Go look for yourself. I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours.

Edit: Ye gods! This is going to take forfuckingever! It's 2:20 am now and I'm only through the stacks of books that were lying WITHIN REACH OF THE DOOR on the floor of my spare room, plus a few that I just happened to come across on the site that I knew for certain that I read in my younger years. I'm not only addicted to books, I'm apparently addicted to listing books. How did this happen?! I have work to do this weekend! I have a boyfriend and a dog and other obligations and at least ten times this many more books to go through and list. And that's NOT even reviewing them or pulling out qoutes! What have I gotten myself into? If I disappear off the face of the earth just look behind the stacks of books on my coffee table and you'll find me slumped on the couch typing away... My fingers are actually locking up on my left hand! I've never had that happen before. I have to stop before I hurt myself. I'm going to bed - but I guarentee I'll be back at it tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow...

How long will I continue to talk about my birthday?

2008-03-06T13:56:00.012-05:00

With the truly wonderful way everyone treated me this past year (All year long, not just my birthday!) probably til next year.

I know I've said before how much I love having a Geek for a lover. (By the way, I have decided that 32 is too old to be calling the man that I have lived with for the past 7 or 8 years my "boyfriend.") This year for my birthday he proved, yet again, why I fell for him in the first place.

He came home late from work the night of my birthday carrying a balloon, (the 12 yr old who lives inside my head LOVES balloons!) a stuffed pony, (Again, the 12 yr old.) a bouquet of some of the sweetest smelling roses I ever had the pleasure to receive, the complete first season of Sex and the City, AND a set of paper party hats for our pets/children! Here's a breakdown of why these things he brought me mean so much to me:

A) Balloon: I just generally think it's cute when grown men carry them around. Not so much clowns or balloon salesmen, but a man dressed in a suit or work clothes carrying a single balloon just makes me giggle.

B) Stuffed pony: A little background is required here - I am a VERY tactile person. My Geek knows this and tends to spend an exorbitant amount of time (sometimes so much time he fears he might be asked to leave the store) searching through shelves of stuffed animals (Kinda like some sort of Mr. Whipple character) looking for the perfect soft - but not too soft, cute - but not too cutesy, one. Preferably with those little "bean bag" weighted feet. And his choice of a pony was fabulous.

C) Roses: Roses are not my favorite flower. One of my favorites? Yes. The thing is I like roses that REALLY smell like roses! Most times you find that store (Grocery or Wal-Mart) roses almost don't even have a smell or flower shop roses have that fake rose smell that you're pretty sure someone must have sprayed on. The thing that endears my Geek's choices of flowers to me most is the fact he has almost NO sense of smell. Therefore to find roses, or any flower, that smells the way he knows I like them he stands around sniffing bouquet after bouquet until something finally gets through to him. He proudly announced of my Birthday Roses - "I knew if I could smell them then they must be wonderful!"

D) Sex and the City: My Geek not only bought it for me, he actually enjoys sitting down and watching it with me. He actually shares laughs with me about how much certain characters remind us of certain people (even though there have been a few times we've had those uncomfortable moments where something hits a little close to home, but even those are funny.) How many men do you know that will actually share something that girly with you and NOT complain? Not many, I dare say, not damn many.

E) Paper Party Hats: Ok, not the best thing in the world normally, BUT when you get them to put on your pets it's absofuckinglutely hilarious! I love this man!

Now for the pictures you've ALL been waiting for!

The Legal Drinking Age for a Daddy's Girl?

2008-03-05T13:56:00.004-05:00

32! P.S. If you can see the dog in this picture have another beer!

I should have posted this MUCH earlier, but work & such really has kept me completely consumed. I realized this year how much I really have to be thankful for. All (8) of my friends called me to wish me Happy Birthday. Four of them sang. Mypregnantbestfriend made me a birthday cake. (Pictures of the edible delight will be posted as soon as I get them from said best friend.) My Daddy & my Mom both gave me great presents. The beer was from Daddy. It was fabulous! I took it home that evening and ate Archway Iced Oatmeal Cookies, drank some of my Birthday Beer and watched some Little House on the Prairie. I cried. Both because I was happy and because I was sad. It was good.

iamold

2008-02-28T10:39:00.003-05:00

It's official.
I'm old.
Today I turned 32.
The thing that makes me feel REALLY old though?
My Geek turned 30 this year.
I will never again fuck a guy in his 20s.
I have a feeling it's all downhill from here.
Is this why guys feel the need to try and pick up girls half their age?
I understand the urge.
But it doesn't make YOU any younger.
It actually only makes you seem even older.
I plan on aging gracefully.
No mid-life Cougar phase for this girl.
Just a Mustang, a tight pair of jeans, and a long bumpy road.

Carnations & Roses

2008-02-14T15:57:00.005-05:00

Carnations and Roses

Pink like my Toeses

southern martyr 02-14-08

My geek is wonderful - as only a geek can be. Happy Valentine's Day to all my nearest and dearest! I love you all. Especially MyPregnantBestFriend (and puppy) and MyBigStupidHero, friends make an unbearable world bearable - Thank you.

Writer's Block

2008-01-29T14:05:00.000-05:00

I've been TRYING to work today. I really have. I am suffering from writer's block. I have an ad due tomorrow and I can't come up with shit. I've got an image. I've got my layout. I've got a tagline, "Away From It All - Not Too Far Away." (Yeah, I know. I still can't get the taste of little fuzzy kitten out of my mouth from that one...) But I can't actually think of any verbage to use in the text body of the ad.

The hardest part is that I don't really care. So here's a tag I received from my PregnantBestFriend:

SCATTEGORIES...it's harder than it looks! Copy and paste into a new email. When you are done, send it on, including to the person who sent it to you. Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following... they have to be real places, names, things...nothing made up! Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. (WHICH, BY THE WAY, IS HARD IF YOU ALREADY READ THEIR ANSWERS). You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl.

1. What is your name: Southern Martyr (My real name starts with an "S" also. And it's NOT "Smartass.")

2. 4 letter word: Soul

3. Vehicle: Suburban

4. City: Seville (Spanish: Sevilla) in Spain

5. Boy's Name: Sam

6. Girl's Name: Sarah

7. Alcoholic drink: SoCo (Southern Comfort for all you unhip cats out there)

8. Occupation: Sex Worker

9. Something you wear: Sleeves

10. Celebrity: Sara Gilbert

11. Food: Swiss Cheese

12. Something found in a bathroom: Sink

13. Reason for Being Late: Sex

14. Cartoon character: Scrooge McDuck

15. Something You Shout: Seriously!

16. Animal: Swordfish

17. Body part: Shin

18. Word to describe you: Sullen

Go ahead, play instead of work! You know you want to!