I Didn’t Vote…

I voted this last election in November
I voted for the lesser of two evils
Voting meant more then I can ever remember
It was Volatile our country is still in upheaval

I didn’t vote for the person I liked
Because I didn’t like either candidate
I voted for one at the others despite
Refusing to support someone who initiates hate

I didn’t vote for a leader with honorable traits
There was no such leader for which to choose
I already thought this country was great
Now I fear all that greatness we will lose

I didn’t vote for the man I thought was a racist
I don’t want to surround my country with a wall at all
He reminds me a lot of a Hitler in some facets
Will we gather up the Mexicans to stand against the wall

I didn’t vote for the person I think is a sexist demigod
Will your daughters end up with any rights
They waned to impeach Mr Clinton for getting a blow Job
Yet this guy thinks woman are meant to please a man’s sexual appetite

I didn’t vote for the kind of change I fear is coming
A step backwards in all things morally correct
I fear that this mans values are what Americas becoming
So very much worse then a political forum that’s corrupt


Gluttonous Weekend

I was such a bad bad girl this weekend
Nothing got done that needed to
I fluttered around doing odds and ins
Only accomplishing what I wanted to do

I didn’t get the bills paid
Who knows if I even have the money
I didn’t get the bed made
Who cares if it’s messy it’s not hurting anybody

I didn’t get my grocery shopping done
I have no lunch to eat today
I didn’t work out or even go for a run
My messy bed begged me to stay

The only energy I spent was having sex
Calling on a lover when ever I was randy
All I had to do was send out a little text
It may sound crass but it sure is handy

I laid in bed like a gluttonous pig
Rolling around in my own filth
I ate what I wanted, drank and smoked cigs
No concern for my tortured health

I thought about showering and shaving
Thinking about it was as far as I got
I took a bath which goes against my water saving
Screw feeing bad, perfect, I am not

I watched so much TV my brain began to rot
I can’t determine what I watched verses reality
It’s almost as if I smoked way to much pot
Always crashing out right before the shows finale

I drank so much this weekend I’m now part fish
Passing out on the couch only happened twice
“Let me not be hung over” was my only wish
With a weekend like this I must pay the price

“Yeah You Fucked Up”

“Where were you” she asked him via text as every conversation was.  

“Downtown. I even got a parking spot” he replied. 

“Why on earth were you downtown?” She asked. 

“I wanted to get pizza” he answered

He went to get pizza? She wonders to herself. Why the hell was he getting a pizza? 

“I fucked up” he texts with a picture of him sitting at a table while looking down all sad and devastated looking.

At first she felt sorry for him. Then she looked closer at the picture and saw the rim of his very large, very full beer.  She then recognized the window frame behind him looking just like the bar down the street from his house. 

“Are you at the bar” she asked. 

There was a long pause 

“Yes but I just got here” he answered. 

Finally she just asked him the obvious, “I guess what I’m wondering is where were you at 6:30 and why weren’t you at your kids school, with your kid?” She asked 

“I was trying to sleep” he replied 

“What the Fuck” Was all she could think. She thought he was downtown getting pizza? He must be drunk. He missed open house for a beer or ten? 

“I know I fucked up but can I please come over” he asked 

“Yeah You fucked up.  Night!”  She responded 

“Can I come over then” he begged. 

….crickets…….was all he got 

Bad At 85

When I turn 85 I want to be bad, very, very bad. If I’m still alive and kicking it, I plan on doing all the things I can’t do now. Really, have you thought about it? Your 85! Why not do whatever the hell you want to do?  I’ve been good my entire life and plan on staying this way, so at 85, I’m going to mix it up a bit. 

I plan on starting an amazing drug habit when I’m 85. Crack sounds good right about now. I’d love to say that at 85 I am going to start a crack habit. But, we all know that by the time I’m 85, crack will be whack and there is sure to be some new horriable drug I could start taking.  I could spend what’s left of my life just high as a fucking kite.  

At 85 If I can still have sex and I still want it,  I’m going to be reckless and not use any protection against STD’s.  I’m going to just have sex whenever I want, with whomever I want  and not give a shit ( probably because I’ll be jacked up on the newest coke). I’m going to be a monster whore at 85 and I’m going to love every minute of it.  

I might start stealing at 85! Why not? I’m going to need the extra money to pay for my living expenses, (since my social security I’ve paid into all my life, will be gone).  Not to mention the  expense of my new drug habit. What are they going to do throw you in jail? Big deal! I’ll be 85, I could probably use the free healthcare and three solid meals a day ( that I don’t even have to cook).  

I would say I’m going to start cussing like a truck driver at 85. But, I already do that.  I’m excited for 85. It’s gonna be fun to finally be so bad.  

Damn Shots! 

It was another crazy evening in LoLa-Land last night. I was invited to a adult themed white elephant Christmas party at a co-workers house. Another girlfriend and I had already gone shoping for the gift. So, I came prepared with dildo and lube wrapped in a Santa bag. I really didn’t eat much yesterday I got some cleaning bug up my butt and had a five hour straight cleaning marathon. I had one meal all day by the time I got to the party at 8pm. 

A very old friend of mine escorted me almost as a favor to me, because; I found out it was mostly couples coming and I didn’t want to brave the sexual energy party alone. He and I have known each other since I was 17 or 18 years old. We have been through a few off the wall sex orientated events before and managed to handle the possibly embarrassing situation with stride. So, I knew he would be able to handle any crazy thing that might be unwrapped and also be able to maintain a conversation with someone new. 

Jello-shots were the main course on the menu for the evening. With the second and third courses being vodka with juice and wine or champagne.  Fourth course was a buffet of chease, bread, fruit and sweets.  For some reason as good as it all looked I was not in the mood to eat. 

It was a great evening and it was even better my friend drove us there because the host loves to do shots. I had over the course of the evening four jello-shots, five vodka with juice and two shots of fireball. I was actually great and flying high on the hog until the fireballs came to play. (Again never mix your alcohols.  Everything up until then was vodka).

I am happy to say that I made it through the white elephant game with flying colors and with careful strategie Am now owner of a new dildo with batteries already in it (which I find suspect?)  it was after that when we started the fireballs and I became very Handsy. I think I touched every person there. Sadly, one of my clients and his wife were there and I couldn’t stop myself from continously squeezing on her. Then went so far as to taking my clients hair out of his ponytail and playing with it. It was just after this when My friends and I could tell I was not alright. My old friend and client helped me get in my friends car; soon we were on our way to my house. 

Sadly, I didn’t make it home. I didn’t feel it coming until we were on the freeway at 65mph. I think the vibrations from the road just did me in and gave me that final push. 

“Pull over” I said 

“What? Are you going to be sick?” He asked

But I couldn’t answer as I was already puking. Getting my head as far out the passenger window as possible, all I could think about was my friend Jordan and how the exact same thing happened to her and she didn’t think about the back window being open. So, her vomit came in through the back window and whipped around her entire car until her, her car and her man were all coated in puke. I was luckier then them. 

But, it wasn’t pretty I could feel it spraying all over my face and in my hair that was being sucked out the window from the speed of the car. I could see vomit flying back down the side of my poor friends car and onto the poor people driving behind us. I puked three times like this and then he was finally able to pull over and I think I puked some more, I honesty don’t remember. 

When we got to my house I had puke all over the right side of my face and ear and my hair on that side was drenched in puke. There was no parking in front of my place so he dropped me off and found a Parking  spot. Walking with bare feet (I don’t know when my heals came off) on the cold wet concrete, is the last thing I remember. That is until my friend startled me out of my drunk induced coma as I stood in the pitch blackness  of my master bathroom shower with the water spraying All over my nasty head. 

“LoLa? Are you ok” he asked.

“What hu!? Of yah I had puke on me” I slur. He turned my light on and I got out and dried off. I then walked butt naked straight to my bed and got in. I didn’t brush my teeth (which I really) should have), I didn’t comb out my knotty hair or even walk my friend to the door. I didn’t even care that my old friend could see my nakedness I just wanted to be in bed.

“Are you gonna be ok?” He asked 

As I moaned yes and then he was a total sweetheart and left a bottle of water next to me. Gave me a peck on my forehead, told me to have sweatdreams, turned off all my lights and left; while locking the door behind him so I was safe to pass-out. I was so thankful For him all night. Thankful he came with me, thankful he fit in with my friends, thankful he was the DD, thankful he kept his cool under pressure, thankful he didn’t get angry with me and thankful for his care. (Note to self get his car cleaned) I was also thankful it was going to rain all night so his car might be clean in the morning.

Just another Alcohol induced night in LoLa-Land

Another Crazy Saturday 

This weekend had me spending lots of time with friends.  Saturday night I was with some of my coworkers from my day job.  My girlfriend, Cat, from work was in such a sad state after breaking up with her boyfriend. She had been walking around the office like Eeyore, with this huge cloud over her head. I had to do something to cheer her up and get her to stop calling him.  So I told her I was taking her out to get drunk Saturday night.  Soon it became us going to our other coworker,  Jakes house.  He happens to live a few blocks away from downtown in a small neighboring town.

These two coworkers of mine have partied together many times but this was my first with both of them.  At first I felt a bit like a third wheel but I still was having a great time getting to know them both better. We sat on his front porch, some of us drinking, Some of us smoking, just “shooting the shit” (that’s southern for “talking”), while watching the sun go down.  Once we all had a good buzz going we walked to downtown.  We ended up going to three different bars making sure my devestated coworker had two beers at each. (I also kept forcing food in her). 

We left the third bar shortly After discovering the tall beautiful man who was buying me drinks and coming on to me, for almost an hour, was in fact staying at the local Sheraton because his girlfriend kicked him out two days prior.  At this point my devestated coworker had a half dozen or more drinks In her 120lb body and wanted to go to another bar. Jake and I looked at each other and both said “no”. Both of us being 20 years her senior, we could tell she was about to blow or tank. 

The short walk home became quite adventurous. Cat says to us, “I wanna run!” And starts to run back to Jakes house. But, Jake being drunk and me being buzzed and in heals, we were against that move. So, Cat took off running and all I said to Jake was, “I really hope she stops at the corner”.  Which she did, thankfully so Jake and I were able to catch up to her. (This happened again the next block). Finally we make it to Jakes block and Cat was draped on a telephone pole.  So, he grabs her arms and we all begin to walk the short two house distance to his porch when suddenly she passes out. Not expecting her sudden drop, Jake, who was caught off guard by her entire body weight being added to his arm, tried to stop her from falling and in doing so ended up falling on top of her. 

So, here I am, standing next to this drunk couple laying on the ground half in the street and half on the sidewalk, thinking to myself, “this is not good”. I had just watched the entire thing happen in like slow motion and couldn’t do anything to help because I was holding Jakes Pizza. (Ok maybe I was more then buzzed). A car stops and a woman asked if we were ok? At this point Jake was getting up. I put the pizza down and we both grab one of Cats arms and walk / Drag her dead weight to the suddenly Very Long distance to his house. 

We throw her into Jakes bed and walk away.  Suddenly Cat comes out of her comma and springs up to standing and says, “I wanna run!”. She then proceeds to start to run and gets as far as the living room where she literally stops suddenly And then (did a cartoon move) looked up and  passes out again, she does a spin on her heal and then her entire body  fell to the right.  Thankfully the couch was to the right and she just landed perfectly into it.  I took off her shoes and Jake got her a pillow and blanket. 

This was when I realized I may have an issue because the couch was where i was going to sleep.  Now the only free sleeping surface is in bed with Jake!  So, I drank some more alcohol, while Jake and I worked out a deal on the front porch. I would sleep in his bed next to him and he would not touch me. We then discovered we like opposite sides of the bed, and all was good in the world again. 

I went to bed first and laid there forever uncomfortable and wishing he would turn his very loud music down. Finally I got up, took off the very tight jeans I had on, wished I had worn my granny panties and not my g-string, put some toilet paper in my ears to cut the sound of the music.  I slipped back into bed and did a small prayer to my angels that Jake wouldn’t pull back the covers really far and see my ass or accidentally brush me while I’m sleeping and feel skin. 

It took me about an hour to go to sleep and it was maybe only two hours after that jake woke me up coming to bed. Then only two hours  after that he woke me up and for a minute I was in full Panic mode because I thought for sure I was married again. This was when Jake suddenly rolled over towards me.  His entire body was now pressed up against mine (he was still dressed thank god) and he throws  his right arm over my head. Jake is not a small man.  His  arm felt like it weighed 50lbs. And at that exact same moments starts snoring like a lumberjack right in my ear.   At first I was traumatized. I wondered if the last five years had just been a dream. Had I never actually gotten divorced?!   Then I realized where I was. 

I laid there like that for awhile, trying to find Rhythm in his snores. But, then poor Jake started laying some increadably stinky wet sounding farts and I knew right then at that very early 3:15am hour that I was sober enough to drive. I slid out from under Jakes arm and off the side of the bed, grabbed my jeans and ran to the bathroom.  I woke Cat enough to ascertain that she did not want to go home right then (I don’t blame her) and would have her sister come get her; so, I left. It wasn’t until I was driving home at 4 am Sunday morning that I rembered the pizza box I left siting on the sidewalk two doors from Jakes home. 

Just another crazy day in LoLa-land 

The  Gluten In Me

For years now I’ve been seaking treatment for the hormone issues that plagues me.  I’ve been to the doctors several times and they have suggestions like, ” hysterectomy (even though I have no pain), birth control pills (even though I can’t have kids), surgery (which only stopped some of my symptoms),  and Prozac (because I’m depressed as shit for a day). The list it just goes on and on. I am sure you get the picture. 

So, then I tried acupuncture and I did the needles for a year, then needles and herbs in capsule form, and then needles and herbs in raw form. I have spent thousands of dollars on this issue and though it was getting better with the Acupuntcure, I could no longer afford it. So, now what? Do I take birth control pills for my busted down ovaries?  Or suck the entire baby making factory out of there?

Then my acupuncturist says to me “have you ever thought you might be gluten allergic”. (All I could think was, why the HELL would I think that?  I mean my mom is but that doesn’t mean anything. Right? Is that a hereditary allergie? Kill me now if I have to give up bread). “Why would you think that?” I asked her. All the while freaking out inside, Just thinking about the pizza and sandwiches that I would not be enjoying (Just typing this I have the biggest pouty face).  She replied, “I’ve been taking a class on it and you seem to show all the same characteristics in your symptoms”. 

It’s been two months since she suggested this and this week I managed to go two straight days  without any bread. I actually saw a huge improvement in my bloating and just felt better. But, does that mean I’m allergic? Or is that just about the bread? (I mean it’s all carbs and it all turns to sugar so…. Why would you feel great later after eating bread)?

So, starting March first I am going to cut out as much gluten as possible.  I am probably going to be one cranky bitch too. But, be it allergic or Just healthier and happier, I want to see if it could make a difference or even stop these issues I’m having? Wouldn’t that be ironic? All this time, money, energy and just general bad days, do to my emotions and it could have all been stopped by not eating certain things?


How Did I Get Here

Every now and then I find myself somewhere and I start thinking, ” How did I get here”? Usually it’s when I find myself in a church or some stranger’s family event. Tonight I found myself asking that question in a bathroom.
It was one of my best friends birthday so we took her out to dinner and dancing. It was almost midnight and I was sitting on the toilet in the handicapped stall of the women’s bathroom in the bar. All I could hear was what seemed like 20 woman talking at once ( I am sure it was more like 10). But they were all talking over each other and at each other. As I sat on my porcelain throne, my urine frozen in me (from fear I’m sure), I tried to relax enough to pee. At the same time I was listening to the multitudes of conversations that penetrated my normally solitary room and obliterated any hope of hearing the music that was shaking my boobs.
Some woman were going on and on about what they had on. Two were discussing a conversation one had earlier with a man, where she told him she thought he was lying and found the purple thong. Three girls were confronting another girl about how there was obviously something wrong with her and she kept denying that she was upset, as they just kept railroading her that she was upset. Then there was the girl on the phone talking to her friend about how her ex, “is here tonight with that skank bitch….” Oy vay” my head was swimming.
I was trying to focus on doing my business, as I tried to listen to all the drunken drama around me and also realizing this is the stall I got my first chick kiss in. All the while I myself am… Tipsy and all I can think is “how did I get here”?

Oh well, it’s just another night in LoLa-Land

Heading down the wrong road

Do you ever actually see yourself heading down the wrong path? You want to administer the brakes and yet you can’t seem to stop yourself? Maybe it’s a vice you can’t seem to get away from. Cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, chocolate, sex, gambling, it maybe all of the above? Maybe you tried to quit your vice before and you failed? Maybe you succeeded in not walking down the path for awhile and went back?
When you see yourself skipping back into your old habits how can you stop yourself?

Morning After Bunco

Last night was another night of drunken debauchery  with my bunco ladies.  You would think after 7 years of playing bunco that I would have the sense not to over-eat or over-drink.  I think it has something to do with the fact that I get so inebriated that I tend to forget about any willpower I may need to NOT eat everything in sight.  My escapade in self torture and gluttony always lead to a “Morning After” that has me sick as a dog.  A headache from the excessive alcohol abuse and the feeling of wanting to vomit.   I usually foresee spending the better part of my day on the toilet.

Then I start the mental beat down, “Why?!! Why did you eat so much? Did you have to eat six brownies?  Did you have to have those last three shots?”  I sit for hours wondering what is wrong with me?  Why do I forget about all of my diet rules when I am at bunco?  It’s like I’m some kid in a candy store and I have $50.00 burning hole in my pocket.  I become obsessed with making sure I have sampled every fluid or solid that’s available, no matter what the consequences may be on my stomach or on my thighs.

As if the annihilation of self is not good enough, I then have to deflect my behavior on my friends.  It is suddenly their demon like behavior that brought such fat causing, vomit inducing items into my life.  ” I would never have eaten so badly if she didn’t make such amazing pastries!” or “well if she would stop bringing the cheesy garlic bread… then maybe I wouldn’t have to eat it!”  Because it so much easier to believe that my neurotic acts of over consumption are some how somebody else s fault.  Of course my friends don’t mind that I blame them for my misuse of their baked goods, because I don’t tell them about their fault in it all.  I just stay angry and bitter with them from a far and I don’t have to worry about them calling me out as the Whore for the Buffet that I am.


Oh well it’s just another day in LoLa-Land

Previous Older Entries

Coloring Project – The Frog


2010 Summer Reading List

Sookie Stackhouse, the complete stories A touch of Dead
Finger Prints & Facelifts
His First Wife, Gracce Octavia
The promise of happiness, Justin Cratwright
Silk & Shadows
The Honey Thief
The marriage
Ya ya Sisterhood book # 3
The Other Boleyn Girl
Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
3 book flower series by Nora Roberts
The Kept woman
Twlight book # 4
twlight book #3

Coloring Project – The Swan