The Pineapple Express

...should bring those white foamy drinks in silly glasses, sunshine, coconut and pineapples dammit!

Apparently not. It's brought rain, lots and lots of rain. A good day to stay inside and finish sorting out the cupboards above the stove. Which is what should be occupying HRG's time at the moment.

But there's still half a cup of too much coffee left, so let's play awhile shall we babies?

You know, it's nice when bureaucrats surprise you, isn't it? As you all know from my endless whining about it, there's a mess in front of our cute little house. Some of you may have even seen it, although there seems to be less traffic in our neighborhood now that the brightly colored port-a-pottie is gone. A phone call was made. Just one. They called back just like they said they would! Wow. And he was awesome, gave us the heads up about further construction and then gave HRG permission to rope off the grassy part on the other side of the fence! No red tape, just a simple conversation. Problem solved. It was a nice start to my day.

Then I read the papers. I've come to the conclusion that, present company and rabid fans excepted, people are stupid and I hate them. It stands to reason that if these things make me so crazy, then maybe not reading them would be the smart thing. Yes and no. You can't work for change if you're unaware of what's going on in the world. Seeing the inherent evil in people makes me look that much harder for the good. Without that balance, it would be insanely depressing. Without that balance there would be no hope. It's a big important word. Let's remember that, shall we?

Now, to be fair, there are "news" stories out there that do show not all people are soulless, some are just plain stupid. It's been said that stupid should hurt, like brain freeze or a really sharp noise. I agree. So very very many stupid people are out there babies, too many. And they're allowed to breed. People like that should be quarantined and sterilized.

Like the people who brought their ten year old daughter to a comedy show on Friday nite. And sat right up front. This is a well known comedy tour, these comics aren't telling knock knock jokes or cavorting onstage with a purple dinosaur. The only question to be asked really is...."wtf were you THINKING?!!" It was so unfair to everyone. The comics handled is well, although every one of them took a jab at the "responsible" parents. The audience agreed. No, they did not completely sanitize their show either, the consequence being the parents now have to explain stuff. Grown up stuff. Said with grown up words. Payback's a bitch babies, sometimes it truly is.

So there.

HRG

Flashbacks

....of our debut gig have us all fired up. This project has been worth the endless rehearsals, we gelled when and where it counted. Onstage. To a packed to the rafters, very appreciative house. At the end of the nite someone said to us that it was like we called her, asked what her favorite 36 songs were and then played them all. Even the Bay City Rollers song. With a giggle and a grin HRG will admit we did it babies. We played Saturday Night and they went wild. It looked and felt like a director yelled "ACTION!" Suddenly we were filming a video. Not literally, but well, you know. Absolutely everyone was singing along, pumping their fists in the air, the bartenders were dancing, waitresses too..... For the record, the men yelled much louder than the women. It was a "we were.....and....." moment.

And it was cool, being worshipped again. It was the first time in a long time, too long a time, that HRG was let out of her cage. It felt good.

A sort of spidey sense moment told me old and missed friends were there for a short time, at the back where they couldn't be seen. Then again, sometimes wishful thinking gets in the way.

The end of the year is, believe it or not, only about 48 days away my babies. I've been rearranging shelves, moving boxes, making room for new ones. The temptation to open some of them is too much, and yes, sometimes I do re-visit the memories, but only the good ones. They are the only ones that count.

You know babies, I've rambled on about nothing really, which wasn't my intention when I sat down, but this groovy tummy has started making sounds like cats being tortured and the neighbors look worried.

Let's blame it on the one who is too far away and her grilled cheese sandwich.


HRG

Today's Target

....is mould! Not the fun kind that jello gets made in, but the icky black kind. What I thought were just a few spots turned out to be much worse! For unknown reasons, maybe he thought he saw a bright shiny thing or something, TCB moved my dresser. And there it was, nonchalently making it's way up the wall. That would explain the whistling sound. Like it was rocking on it's heels (or in this case the stucco on the wall), using the few spots as a decoy, looking all Eddie Haskell at us. TCB wanted to kill it there and then. However, after yesterday's massacre, the needed supplies were gone. "Just you wait" I whispered "tomorrow is your day". I swear I heard a defiant snort. It should've listened, but no..........................

This morning he got up early and went to get bleach, rubber gloves, masks and green garbage bags. You know, like every mass murderer you see in every csi-cop-show-you've-ever-watched carries around. He even wanted to blow off work and help.

Does that make him helpful or an accomplice?

HRG

It's Been A Long Time....

....been a long time, been a long and lonely, lonely, lonely.............. time

Yes it has. Good morning babies. While the sun plays hide and seek with the clouds, perhaps putting down some of the bajillions thoughts that run through my mind might be a good way to pass the time. Let's pour a cup and chat awhile, ok?

This self-imposed exile has made me realize that this hasn't been about me, about something being so wrong with me that he'd step outside looking for what I couldn't give him. It's a normal reaction, to blame yourself when infidelity happens. It's also been said that it takes two to make or break it, somehow implying that had I'd been a better woman, he wouldn't have strayed. Bullshit! There's nothing wrong with me, this is about his choices, his immaturity. This new knowledge, or rather the acceptance of it, really is helping me learn how to be me again. I miss her, the HRG persona. The flirty fun side of me that has been held hostage by Fear and Doubt for far too long. It is ok to flirt, it's knowing when not to cross the line. Thank you Mystery Mama, for reminding me of that. I've always said that you don't sleep with them all, you just made them wish you had. Time for Dr. HRG to take a little of her own advice, don't you think babies?

It's taken awhile to find my footing again. I still falter from time to time, like the complete meltdown of last week. Hanging my groovy head and admitting that it was completely my fault just doesn't seem like enough. Yes babies, HRG was out of line. TCB wore what was the last of the rage and hurt and this time, had done nothing to deserve it. Well, in all fairness, he was awake and breathing.....

I've also learned that even though I've been done with "that" for years now, apparently PMS isn't removed from the equation. The cravings (gimme that gianormous bag of Lay's Wavy and keep your fingers out of the way!!), moodiness, extreme emotional crap, well, let's just say TCB didn't stand a chance. And he didn't know what hit him. Poor bastard. It seems so unfair to have the symptoms, but not the end result. At least one could garner a little sympathy, maybe even some forgiveness for being such a complete bitch if one were, oh I don't know, lying on the couch, eating chips and bleeding to death.

Speaking of bleeding to death, did you know that weeds do that? Bleed to death I mean. The weeds are moving slowly towards the house now, shoulder to shoulder in a show of solidarity. Surely they all won't fall victim to the Claws of the Kicker.

Yes. Yes, they will.

Let's add mass murderer to the list of HRG's many, many talents.

HRG