Shit stirring up and flinging around.
2006-06-08, 4:09 p.m.

You guys, thanks for hanging in with me through all the tears, the paranoia, the worry, the editing, THE LEARNING CURVE, and God, I forgot where I was going with this. Ahem.

You know how sometimes people decide to go passworded because there�s all kinds of shit stirring up and flinging around, and so you�re supposed to email them and ask for the password and that way the bad people they don�t like can�t come in and cause trouble? Have you ever done that? I have.

I am kind of thinking that folks might orchestrate that kind of maneuver just to bolster (which rearranged, spells �lobster�) their shaky egos, because DAMN did a lot of y�all respond to Jane My Hero�s notify and ask me for the password.

(Does this make you want to whisper sotto voce behind the camera �the password is�lobster� like it does me?)

Anyway, your little bread crumb trail on the internet can be found, and when it is found, there�s a picture up there of you flaring your nostrils into the camera.

What?

I�ll have to really limit myself to making fun of people w ho know about this here place.

You. And YOU. And especially you.

So let�s see. Let�s review the topics that are safe for discussion around here, and we�ll get this party started. And by tomorrow, the passwording should be a thang of the past.

1. Sex. I have no fear of continuing to talk about sex. Good sex, bad sex, fast sex, and frustratingly slow sex. It�s all good. Well, it�s all good for discussing.

2. Poop. Always! Poop is always a good topic for me. I don�t talk about it in the obsessed manner that some people do; I feel that I talk about it on a one-to-one basis with you. Kind of �Oh! You, too? Corn? Really?�

3. There is no 3.

4. What the hell do I talk about here? I think it�s just sex and poop. That kind of sucks for YOU and frankly, I�m worried about you.

5. I do talk about Mr. S (you know who) quite a bit, and now I�m not saying this just because I believe he may find me here someday, but he�s being pretty cooperating and responsive lately. That�s a good thing. So shout out and HOLLA! Go on with your bad cooperative and responsive self.

6. Oh! Shopping. We do talk about shopping quite a bit. Here�s what I got my mom for her birthday: two of my very favorite t-shirts from Target, a pair of white cropped pants from Steinmart, and a really cute purse from Steinmart that has some stripage in it that coincidentally matches the colors in the two t-shirts. I�m crafty, and I�m just your type, aren�t I?

7. Last but not least, DW. Let�s talk about him for a moment, shall we?

Ever since I started trying to work �smell ya later!� into my conversations, he has been dredging up the remnants of his high school lexicon, as well. Added to �smell ya later!�, which I say to him every morning as we head our separate ways to work, are the word �cliggas�, and the addition of �-age� to the end of just about every noun or gerund, which, as you know, is a verb USED as a noun.

Do you know what cliggas are? I didn�t, either. Apparently, this was a made-up word that somebody at his high school started using to refer to balls, lo these many years ago in 1980. As in �you just hit me right in the cliggas.� Or �you�ve got my cliggas rolling.�

And you know about �-age� � you KNOW you do � because you used it yourself many, many times in the 80s. �I need some drinkage.� �Nice boobage.� �We�re having much grillage for dinner.�

That�s what�s going on at home. That�s what we do. Is this normal? Is this how other married heterosexual people act? I don�t know why I threw in that heterosexual thing there. Just in case you were wondering, or in case it makes a difference, I guess.

I talk about my skin a lot here, too, don�t I? Well brace yourselfs. Here it comes again. But as with everything I have to provide you with a long, rambling back story with many long sentences and extraneous words.

OK, you know Lori, and if you don�t, please do go see her and read her and encourage her to FREAKING UPDATE a little more often because her shit reads just like a book. And if you�re really nice to her, she�ll give you the linkage to her old blog, Mean Baby, and you will read that over an entire weekend, and when you�re not reading it, you will wistfully wish that you could get back to your novel about that lady that was an art teacher, and then you�ll realize DOH! that was Lori�s blog, not a novel.

But anyway, she mentioned in Mean Baby that she had ordered the Philosophy line of skin care stuff, and I was intrigued, so I got online with Philosophy and I ordered the acne kit. And THEN I emailed Lori and asked her if her Philosophy stuff had really worked, and she said not really, but the damage was done. I had already ordered it.

I�m liking it, though. It has no benzoyl peroxide, which I find I just can�t tolerate as it makes my skin both broken out AND red and itchy and hivey, and so far, so good. Lori, I felt a little silly that I ran right out to the internet and bought it before checking with you, so I didn�t, um, ::cough::anyway.

The second thing I want to tell you about my skin is that DW and Don and I attended a baseball game the other day in a town close to the coast, and we were out in the blazing, frigging sun from 2:00 until 5:00, and I roasted myself. NOT SMART. My left shoulder burned for days afterward, and now it doesn�t burn anymore because it is COOKED and DEAD.

I�m peeling, and it�s not that light flaky kind of peeling. It�s the deep, leaving-behind-pink-skin kind of peel. The I�m-a-stupid-white-fool kind of peel. It�s an annual-mole-inspection kind of peel.

See?

My cell phone and email are togethah again, and what do I take pictures of? The horror. The horror.