Austin, We have an Issue.

I consider myself a normal, healthy woman in her almost-prime. (I'll be 30 on my next.) Now, the way I understand it, most normal healthy women start to hit their sexual peak somewhere in their mid to late 30s.

As of the last couple of months, I have thought of almost nothing but sex. I used to think about it a lot before that, but now I think about it CONSTANTLY. In fact, it is becoming difficult to function because I am being bombarded by blistering blasts of bedlust. I can't concentrate on even the simplest things. I get turned on by the most innocent things. Like taking a turn too fast on the road. Or watching someone--that I'm not even ATTRACTED to--stretch. And things are going downhill rather quickly.

Austin, we have an issue.

This isn't an issue of not getting any. I am getting any. I'm getting GOOD any. And compared to my last relationship, and many before that, I'm getting a lotta good any. So I have to wonder: Is my getting any directly contributing to the Katrina-like flooding I'm currently experiencing in my downtown highrise?

I'm sure the answer is: Yes, a little.

But GOD: I have TEN MORE YEARS of this?????

FUCK.



Oh fuck. I said "fuck".

Now I'm "on" again.

CHRIST.

Hmm. I bet he was good at it.

DAMMIT!

Time to Take a Breath

Hiya folks. It's been a while, I know. I have been pretty blue for the last six months, if I'm being honest. Well, if I'm really being honest, it would be a bit longer, but it has been more noticeable in the last six months.

I've been doing a lot of soul searching. I have been trying to take a very real look at myself to see what is holding me back, and why I can't seem to be honestly happy. It has been pretty painful, but I hope that pain is coming from personal growth as much as it is from reliving bad past experiences, and new bad experiences. Everything happens as it should, I have come to believe, and it is up to us to decide how to react to whatever is placed in our path. That is what determines the kind of person each of us really is. It doesn't take the hurt away when someone you love is dishonest, or thoughtless, or just not there. But it does give you the power to determine what your life will be, regardless of those around you. Even those closest to you.

So I think that is what has been going on with me. I have been hurt pretty badly by the people I love most, and I'm coming to terms with a way to deal with it that is healthy (for everyone involved, including me) and positive. But GOD, it has been a long road. A long, desperate road. Several times I have felt pushed to the brink. Luckily, there has been someone there to grab me each time, and those someones are sometimes very surprising someones (like an old grade school crush--yeah, weird right?).

I don't know if I'm trying to say anything. I'm just speaking to the circles that my mind wanders in. But I do know that things are starting to look a bit brighter today, and I feel good about that. And I also know that the closest people in my life are those that I love the most, and hurt is just a natural part of loving someone that much. And that I feel good about, too. I was on a pretty dangerous road for a while there—a road that would have led me to a lonely, bitter life—but I have decided against that. I have chosen the hurt that I know awaits me in the future for the love that I feel today. And I'm ok with that.

One last word of wisdom from a growing girl: Great sex can heal almost anything. Indulge in taking care of your heart by taking care of your O.

Love to you all,

Boo

My Saturn Returns

I've lost my mind.

I can still function, and be social, and everything appears to be fine, but I am really starting to lose my grasp on what I think I know about myself. It is a good, and necessary, breakdown. Not debilitating. Not emotionally destructive, although it has had me racing through the spectrum of extreme emotion in a way I haven't since I was 14 or 15. I feel myself searching for the bottom to see where I can start rebuilding.

I'm beginning to get used to these growth spurts. At first, they were really painful, and they still are, but in a way that I can accept as necessary.

If I were a cartoon, I would have roadrunner running legs.

In the next month I am:

Finishing building a house
Moving into said house
Throwing a party for those who helped build said house
Planning and throwing my company holiday party
Cooking for Thanksgiving at my mom's house (yeah.)
Shipping a monsterously intense book
writing music
starting a band
recording music
donating platelets
going to therapy
flying to Colorado and driving back to NC with a friend
Friend is moving in
trying to get back to some semblance of a sex life with my husband
making Christmas presents

Just in case you're wondering where I may or may not be...

Unresolved Resolution

Hi peeps. Thank you so much for your words of support while I go through this very strange time in my life. It means so much to me that I can 'hear' the words I need to hear, regardless of where they come from and from whom. I'm lucky to have such a fantastic support system.

The mom and I went to a two-hour mediation appointment with my therapist yesterday afternoon. I took the day off work to finish up some of the house things we started this weekend (which look freakin' awesome; pics soon), so I was able to spend the morning centering myself and feeling grounded. I think this was the most important thing I could have done prior to this meeting.

My therapist/counselor/spiritual guide is a truly gifted person. He knew we were both nervous, and started us out when we didn't really know where to begin. He started by asking what both of us thought the other might not understand about the situation. I wish I could do this all the time in my life when I encounter a conflict, because it is such a compassionate and non-loaded way of saying how you feel. I said mine, my mom said hers, and I think that was all it took. She finally saw why what she had done was so destructive--strangely enough, before this she really had NO IDEA that she had damaged our relationship so badly--and I saw how really screwed up she is right now. Well, not so much screwed up as she is confused and dealing with a lifetime of issues that have been constantly pushed away. Fifty-some years of not dealing tends to catch up to a person like fire in an oil drum; BOOM. I feel for her and what she is going through, but because of the events of the past month or so, I don't feel tied to her fate and responsible for her happiness like I have in the past. She is going through some shit; shit that she can't see her way out of right now, and that really sucks.

But what I came away with from this meeting was basically this: My mom is a scared, fearful, negative person right now (she hasn't always been), and the best thing she could have done for me was to kick me out. She didn't realize it was so hurtful, but because it was, it forced me to become completely detached and independent from her in a way that I never had before. At first I was so hurt and angry--which I still own and those feelings are mine, and I was reacting the way that I think most people would have reacted--but now I have some perspective. I also heard her saying that what she did had nothing to do with me, and that filled me with a sense of relief. One of the things I was dreading about this meeting was what my mom might say to me--my faults, maybe something I did that I didn't realize, stuff like that--and I am so glad that this situation came solely from her issues. I felt that this was about her from the beginning, but it is hard to pull yourself out of the equation when the person involves you so immediately in it. And I'm sure that there is something pretty selfish about my relief, but I also know enough about myself to not hold it against myself. I can't fix her. I can fix me. I work on it everyday. I look for opportunities to grow, even when it might be painful (like this mediation session), and so I know what I can do and what I can handle, and what I can't. I can't fix my mom, but I can have compassion for what she is going through. I can't fix it for her, but I can be there for her. I am approaching this from a place of love--letting go of my ego for a bit--and realizing that the things that happen to me are not necessarily about me. (Not that I would let her do something like this to me again, not at ALL; but now I know what to say to her if she does, and that is pretty empowering.)

And the two biggest things: She finally apologized, and I was able to hug her and tell her I love her, and really mean it.

Now, I hope that she can get through this crap she is going through and come out a better person on the other side. I see her desire to do that; she just doesn't know how to go about it. She will start seeing my therapist on her own, and I am hopeful that she owns who she is and fulfills all the potential within herself, because she is an amazing human being. I hope for her what I have found for myself over the last year: internal peace, personal understanding and acceptance, and a whole lotta self-love.

Dirge in Word

a cap of black and purple curls
atop a peak of sorrow
lives within eyelash unfurled
glazed with cheer on borrow
forget me now to my false regret
heed not the salty rain
for no more was yours that you beget
through haze of childhood pain

Photo Love: I'm Never Satisfied

I needed more of a fall-like feel.

Whoa, I'm Nominated for Something

Hello loyal readers. All two of you.

I'm nominated for... for...umm....maybe a prize or something?

Anyway, if you have a minute, go check out the BlogAsheville Extravablogaversapaloozathon 2008 nominees and look for me! (I'm A Girl Named Boo, just in case, you know, you can't read the top of this page.) And they placed me perfectly: Blog Most Likely to Not Make Money (sweet! I'll never sell out!!!) and Blog That Makes Me Feel Happiest (clearly they haven't seen my latest postings, but whatevs. Don't tell them!)

Go HERE for the excitement.

Mas cerveza, por favor

So I'm off to Mexico tomorrow morning and won't ever be back!!!!

Alas, no; I will return in about 10 days. But a betch can dream, can't she? I'll probably have loads of pictures when I return, so prepare yourself for a feast of the eyes.

We're traveling to the very tip of the Baja peninsula, and there I plan to drink lots of margaritas, kill myself surfing, lay on the sand, and maybe even do a little deep sea fishing.

I would say that you might miss me, but since I've had a lax posting month and haven't received any complaints, I'm assuming that you most likely won't.

See you guys in about a week and a half. Miss me while I'm gone!


Love,
Boo

Tickle My Ivories

Check out my post today on The Music is the Message.

Plinky.

My Big Stupid Mouth

I have a feeling that I'm going to have to work pretty hard to make today a good day. Arg. I think I'm in the middle of a personal crisis. My big stupid mouth! It always gets me into trouble. But my big stupid mouth is usually able to get me out again. But I don't want to talk my way out of this one. I want to take the consequences that come with my actions.

If anyone has a great 'instant cheer' remedy for self-loathing, please let me know ASAP.

Pseudo Self Indulgent

Hi Peeps.

I wanted to throw a little love out there, and let you know that I have been part of a creative writing blog for the last couple of months, Blog Me a Tale, and I just posted another short. Please go check it out, and the other amazing writers that contribute to that blog. Feel free to comment! Writers (well, most writers, I guess) enjoy feedback.

I am also on the verge of another blogging community endeavor, The Music is the Message. It is a dedicated music-lover's blog, and I think as it progresses, you will discover amazing new music, find appreciation for the old stuff, and maybe even give another type of music a chance.

So y'all come on back, ya hear?

Cheers!

Boo

On This Day...

I can't say it has been easy.

These last two years have been pretty unforgiving for both of us, babe, and when I look back now, I can only think, "What would I have done without him?"

You have become such an integral part of my life, that I literally cannot imagine a life without you. And you know how active my imagination is.

We have had some pretty rough patches. There was one day, not all that long ago, that I tried to imagine a life without you, and the furthest I got was a scenario where it wasn't my life at all--it was a stranger's life. I was so angry and hurt that day, and I truly thought that we would not get through it.

But we did. And here we are, celebrating our second anniversary. On this day, two years ago, I was what I like to call, in my Britney mode: chaotic. It is not easy, to say that least, to plan, arrange, pay for, and completely organize a homemade wedding. For 150 people. At my mom's house.

It is also not easy to lose a father two months before he is supposed to walk you down the aisle, holding your manicured hand in his calloused one, tears in his eyes as he escorts you away from childhood and into a world that only you can navigate. It is not easy to stand there, in front of everyone you love--and some you don't--and with all those eyes on you, only notice the pair that aren't there. It isn't easy to acknowledge that I won't have a father-daughter dance, that I won't see my mom and dad there next to us on the dance floor, that he won't get a little too tipsy and maybe fall in the living room again. It isn't easy to watch your mother's face. To watch her miss him in every little moment as well. To watch her living out her own personal hell in front of my family, your family, and all of our friends.

It isn't easy to know that you are the only person I've ever brought home that my dad didn't want to immediately strangle. But at the same time, it is easy.

You were the one, all along. We knew it from the moment we embraced on the street corner. We knew it, and we didn't shy away from the power of it. Thank fucking god we didn't run away from it. It would have been easy to run.

It was easy to stand in front of our world of people and have my brother marry us. It was easy to have my sister there beside me, and your brother beside you--the most important people in our worlds, supporting this huge and scary step. It is easy to remember the vows we wrote for each other, the tree we planted together as a symbol of our union, the wish ribbons hanging from the arbor under which we were married. It is easy to remember dancing with our friends and family, laughing, spinning, watching the night fly away like sands through the hourglass, but on fast forward. It is very easy to remember exchanging rings, seeing your eyes fill with tears as I walked myself down the aisle, hearing everyone--especially my grandfather--belly laugh at my brother's declaration of his vested power.

On this day, two years ago, I was as excited, anxious, happy and as sad as I have ever been. I know we were both exhausted, because we both collapsed in bed that night, without even trying to get into each other's pants. Funny that we didn't even have sex on our wedding night. (I mean, not that we needed to; our sex life has been nothing short of fucking amazing, and continues to blow my mind.)

I look back over these last two years, and I have to say that I am impressed by us, honey. We have grown in ways that I never imagined possible. We have taught each other so much about love and commitment. We have made it through some very tough times.

It would be a gross understatement for me to say that I love you more now than I ever have. Robb, I have never known a love like this. I never imagined that I would be so lucky to have a love like this. You were always out there, waiting, and I was always here, waiting. We were waiting for each other, and every step we have taken in our lives has brought us to where we are today.

Marriage is strange; it is both constricting and freeing. It is rigid, but flexible. It is strange but familiar. It is a perfect balance of selfishness and selflessness.

The words that were spoken as Ginger's wedding, just two weeks ago, still ring true for me: This marriage is completely unique. There has never been, and never will be, a union like ours, for we are both individuals, and we have created something that never existed before. We are moving the world forward just by simply being together.

I want to say how proud I am of you, Robb. You are fearless. You are creative. You are vulnerable. You are chasing your dream and succeeding. You are strong, everyday, for me. You are exploring yourself in ways that you never previously imagined, and you are becoming more You every day. You, Robb; you are my heart.

YOU ARE MY HEART!!!!

I LOVE YOU!!!

Marry me.

The Best Things to Do on a Weekend

In no particular order:

-Abita Strawberry Lager. Their seasonal spring beer. Not sweet, not too hoppy, just right.

-Make up sex. Enough said.

-Twin Peaks marathon with a virgin. Much thanks to TK and his spectacular review that prompted me to immediately buy the box set with the remainder of my money and not eat fish tacos for TWO DAYS because I was broke in the pocket. And it is so worth it.

-Wake up sex. Also enough said.

-Beautiful weather, mountains, lakes, dogs swimming, and sunshine.

-Lovely concert and dinner with my mom and her admittedly awesome boyfriend. He rocks. Mainly because he said I looked beautiful (I did) and that he loved my hair (as I do). So, clearly his tastes are impeccable. But that could have been declared for the mere fact that he is dating my mom. She is a piece, y'all. A serious piece.

-Sunday softball game in the rain. I caught two infield popflys, tagged a runner out at third, and had two singles! My hubs slid into home for a score, as well as killed at first base. We are the coolest couple ever.

-Taking a mental sick day on a Monday. Man, did my laundry ever need that one!

-Visiting the house site. I can't wait to start updating the blog with loads of house info that no one but me cares about. And that is the way I like it. Truly. (Although, I probably have some out-of-town friends that would appreciate an ACTUAL place to sleep when they come visit, rather than a beat down old air mattress and my dog licking them to wakefulness at 6am after a night of drunken mess and almost getting run over by a crazy old man in a red car. I'm watching you, crazy old red car driving man! I'm watching you....

Fish Tacos

I probably haven't written a complete sentence in this place for over a month, but I don't really plan on changing that immediately. My brain is only working in spurts lately. But there are a few things of interest (to me) and so I will impart:

-I donated blood yesterday. (High fives self). I have O negative blood, the universal donor, and I'm not a carrier for this certain "thing" (the nurse was very vague), so that means my blood can go to newborn babies! How cool is that?! It kinda makes up for my lack of wanting children. I'm helping babies every time I stick a needle in my arm! And seriously, how many people can say that? Not many, is the answer.

-The Orange Peel, our lovely local music club with kickass sound, was named one of the top ten clubs in the country by Rolling Stone. I guess that is a double-edged sword, because now things like this are happening: last week, we had Lou Reed (awesome). Today, we have George Clinton (also awesome). Yesterday, we had Hanson. Yes, the Mmm Boppers that were bound to come up as one-hit wonders on "I love the 90s." Even more of a punch in the coot: There was a line around the fucking block, starting Sunday night--the night before the show--of people lining up for it. "People" also means young teenage girls, teenage boys trying to get with said girls, and even younger preteen girls with very miserable-looking fathers in tow. And some people that looked like they would be more at home at a Clay Aiken concert. I took pictures, but it is too painful to repost, so use your imagination.

-I have eaten fish tacos everyday for the past week. And yesterday, I had them TWICE. Yes, they are delicious, but I have no true understanding for my addiction. On the plus side, I am drinking less beer. So that's good. I guess.

Boo Rooz Recap

I was kidding about the butt love comment. Kinda.

(Does it count when you give yourself butt love?)

So the birthday was fantastic. I have learned a very valuable lesson: I am my most awesome self when I depend only on myself for happiness. It's like the universe acknowledges this choice, and by virtue of that choice, encourages the rest of the world to treat you like a queen.

I took off work last Friday and Monday, giving myself a desperately needed four day weekend. You see, in my world, birthday celebrations should last as least a week. So, I being very rational and not at all self-involved, decided a four day weekend would be just right.

I gave myself an at-home spa day on Friday. I watched a great movie about a wonderfully realistic love story. I smoked some pot. I went to our local organic market and -- to the detriment of my wallet -- bought all of my favorite foods and drinks. Cultured salsa, a lovely syrah, kombucha teas, spinach artichoke dip with honey dijon baked chips, Swedish pot de cremes, champagne, cocoa-dusted almonds, grapes, strawberries, blueberries, pistachio granola...

Good stuff.

My hubs spoiled me rotten all weekend. By spending basically every second with me. It seems so rare lately that we are able to get in that quality time together, and that's probably a huge reason to the lack of sex life. But one of my awesome birthday presents is sex every day, anytime, anywhere. (Honestly, my hubs could not have given me a more thoughtful and selfless gift. I'm a maniac.) And, that sweet sweet man, bought my favorite sushi for our dinner, hung with me and the girls, went to the gardening store and played in the garden with me all weekend. God, it was bliss!!! He even got our family members together and they all gave me money to start accruing my electronic setup (PA, mics, keyboard, guitar, amps -- the works)!!!! Yes, I'm a very lucky and happy woman. Very.

And totally satisfied. Until tonight. Although really, I'm more of an early afternoon delight kind of girl.

AND!! Thank you everyone for your lovely birthday wishes. It is so nice to log on to this unpersonal machine and find personality, caring, and thoughtfulness. Thank you, all.

A Year in Review: Boo Rooz*

There are a few things you should probably know about me for all this to make a bit more sense. That, or I just want to ramble about myself, so yeah.

1) I am an Aries. In fact, I was born on the first day of Aries. Do you know what Aries is? Fire sign, impetuous, self-involved, and all-around cool. But I didn't get too much of that last one.

2) I am the Year of the Monkey. Monkeys are intelligent, capable, and capable of incredible manipulation. And I got that last one. Oh yeah. But just as Superman is blessed with seeing through shit, I choose to use it only when it is necessary; not even time I want to see my hubs' underwear through his pants (which, incidentally, has happened a lot lately).

3) My birthday is tomorrow. And per my lovely friend Curious, it sometimes coincides with Nu Rooz, the Persian New Year. And I'm way to into "me" to remove myself from the equation.

Anyway, with the above factors in mind, I am writing a post today about my new year, from last birthday to this. Thus, "Boo Rooz" is born.

Last year's birthday, I have now deemed as "Great (Fucked Up) Expectations." I came to work in a wonderful mood. I looked great. I was certain I was going to get that promotion I had been gunning for--and virtually promised to me--since I started working at The Workplace. Well, long story real fucking short: the promotion was denied (not by my awesome boss, but by the higher powers that be) and it rocked me. How could that be?? I had been performing at a high level, and had been doing the job description for the better position since I started working there two years prior. They basically said "No Way" right in my face.

It was a real downer. I mean, real. I almost cried, and I NEVER cry at work. Except in the bathroom.

I go home after work, looking for people to be extra specially nice to me, and low and behold, my birthday has been forgotten. Even my Mom, who, to her credit, called me that night around 9pm, pretending she didn't forget. (Usually she calls me at the exact time I was born, 3:33pm, so I was, you know, expecting it.)

And we're not going to talk about what my husband did for my birthday. Because I might have to retroactively kill him. And I have high expectations (I know, I'm a sucker for punishment) for this year, so that can't happen.

Thus, the year of Great (Fucked Up) Expectations.

The year that followed in the wake of Boo Rooz 2007 was pretty shit, actually. And you can read about (most of) it in the archives, that start in June. But let's sum it up this way:

Work Life: Overworked and under appreciated
Home Life: Fights with every member of my family, no home, fleas, craziness
Social Life: Heavy drinking, hardships with friends
Internet Life: Better than real life (I now see how people can spend hours and hours accomplishing nothing but creating bonds with people you've never met or seen in "real" life.)

And as things currently stand, they look shitty again. My hubs and I are in dire straits (the D word has been thrown around more than once in the last six months--arg, and we haven't had sex in almost a month--double arggg), our house is nowhere near finished, my good friend moved away last weekend, and through therapy, I realized that I have been depressed for going on 2 years. (I'm the "cover it with a smile and a joke" kind of person. I'm starting to discover this isn't as healthy as I once thought...)

God, I am on a tear. I understand if you haven't read this far; I can't stand it when people bitch about stuff like this, because really, it is LIFE, and shit happens. But you caught me feeling vulnerable, hopeful, and purge-y all at once. And if you have read this far, then you might as well stick with it, because it gets better. I think. I'll let you know when we get there.

I happen to know that I live a charmed life. Yes, shitty things happen, but I was born equipped to deal with whatever comes my direction, so in that way, I feel strong. I have an amazing support system that I have slowly cultivated, and I draw on that strength when I feel weak, and in that way, I feel strong.

So, the good things about this past year. Well, I have started playing music and singing more often. And in fact, I have been writing lately, and the last two songs to come from my heart are pretty amazing. I'm already composing the orchestral support to my little piano and voice.

Another good thing: the aforementioned therapy. Me and the hubs have been going since last fall, and I have never felt more secure in knowing myself, knowing what I want, and feeling like I have the tools to create the life I seek. Empowerment, in a word.

Another good thing: good friends. Wonderful friends, actually. My friends inevitably become my family in many ways. I tell them things that I could never say otherwise, with the knowledge that they won't judge me--at least not openly. :) That is so refreshing.

Another good thing: I got that promotion this past October, so that was nice. Six months late, but better late than never, I guess.

Obviously, there are good things happening for me. I think that is directly related to my inability to give up, or slow down, or take no for an answer, or even pretend for a moment that I'm wasting what amazing gifts are out there, if I just reach out for them.

My mom, when I graduated from college, gave me a card. It simply said, "Leap, and the net shall appear." I have carried that thought with me since that day, even though I've always been the "leaping" kind. It reminds me to go with my heart, because those desires and motivations and instincts are there for a reason. I'm learning to hear myself again, to trust myself again, and to love myself again.

So this year, on my birthday, tomorrow, I'm taking the day off work.

I'm getting unwanted hair waxed at my local day spa, which I love. It makes me feel so clean.
I'm going home and pampering myself with a facial, a manicure, a pedicure, a body scrub, and any other awesome product that I might find at Target tonight.

I'm treating myself to a delicious lunch, complete with champagne and dessert.

And I'm doing it alone. Just me. No parties, no congregation (well, at least not during the day), no fanfare. Just me and my head. Me loving my body.

And then my ladies are coming over for a night of music, wine, cheese, guilty pleasure, and hopefully lots of laughing and good times.

Wish me luck.




*moniker courtesy of my birthday twin, Curious P.

One More Notch, er, Scar

Well, not to be outdone by the last couple of weeks of minor traumas, I have raised the bar for myself YET AGAIN!!!!

Luckily, when I hurt myself, it is usually non-life threatening, but probably some of the most painful shit you can do to yourself while remaining in non-life threatening mode.

Yesterday's little trauma?

I slammed my thumb in my car door. It locked. I had to fumble with my keys in my left hand, unsuccessfully try to unlock the door (isn't it strange how when you really need to get into your car, like it is pouring outside, or your thumb is locked in the door, you try to unlock it in the wrong direction several times until you realize, even though you might have been unlocking this specific door daily for months or even years??) and removed my thumb. In all of its blood-gushing glory. It was pretty horrendous, and I think I even heard the lady across the street scream. (Well, she definitely hollered.)

Luckily, I was just arriving at a friend's house, and I went to the front door and asked for her assistance. She, in super-nurse-in-control mode, whisks me to the bathroom, cleans me, sterilizes me, oints me, and wraps me. Boom. Done.

I have the best of friends. Thanks friend!!!!

So my nail is cracked pretty much in half, and I'm guessing that it might bother me after my finger has healed, so I was researching healing tactics on the web (of course).

This is my favorite option so far.

Dear Diary

It raining today--a heavy, sopping rain that seeps into every pore. My hair curls up; my eyes squint against the tiny wet needles that speckle my glasses; moisture creeps up the back of my pants legs.

I want it to wash me clean today. I want to feel renewed and released. It's been a long two years--and I've just begun to realize how hard these two years have been. My life has turned completely upside-down these past two years. Sometimes I feel like my soul has left the building; vacated until I renovate and make this a habitable hold once more.

I want this rain to wake me, to push me up through the warming soil, to feel the still winter-cold sunlight on my body. I need a spring.

What's Going On???

Just to give you a taste of my life in the past few days....



The Good:
My brother's band, Waiting to Bleed (heavy, heavy metal stuff) got signed to their first label. They are producing two albums and a DVD, so I'll keep you 'heads posted.

The Meh:
We fired the contractor that is building our house. More to follow on that later....(after I finish ripping out the remaining hair on my head). AND, I locked myself (accidentally) in our laundry room yesterday morning for, oh, about TWO Hours.

The Bad:
Our local recycling truck crashed into our truck (my baby!!!!), and now the engine resembles nothing more than a Geiger-esque accordian. Wahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

And tonight is a full moon/lunar eclipse, so I'm crazy as it is. I'm hoping I'll get through the rest of the week with minimal scarring.

How are y'all???