idiots


crazy-cat

I am once again revisiting  the eternal struggle to wash my brain of  the boy.  To find the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The ups and downs of  this relationship have been documented in this blog for a long time.  I am not clear on why I cannot get over him. It’s been 2.5 years of continuous and alternating pain and joy.  It’s like fucking Brokeback Mountain for heterosexuals.  We’ve gone from being sorta together (boy don’t do monogomy), to being totally cut off, to being fuckbuddies, to being homemade porn stars, and now back to crazytown.  He has a new fling. A freaking 26 year old. Not that hot, but obviously she’s got something he wants for now.  I am having fucking NIGHTMARES about it all. 

While the boy is charming and funny and smart, his life is a total trainwreck.  I should be glad to let someone else deal with his drama for a while.  Would I really want him if he was mine to have? Why am I so attached? So obsessed?  There is obviously a connection there that strikes a deep and primal chord in me. The only way I can explain it is that pain and drama are so heavily ingrained in my psychological makeup, that he is the perfect fit for that very self defeating, masochistic chink in my brain.  He fills a part of me that thrives on this stuff and it makes for a very powerful addiction.  Add to that:  I just love being around him. And the sex is perhaps the best I’ve ever had. The perfect trifecta for addiction. I feel like it is going to kill me. I cannot let that happen. What the hell?  I need electro shock therapy. I need to move to another country. I can’t believe I am back here again. I guess I never really left.  Writing about it is therapy for me. In which case, I should be doing a lot more writing……..

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Sometimes I can only communicate with certain persons via my blog because they have otherwise cut me out of their lives. So I send not so veiled messages to them via posts rambling on about the state of my mind. I try not to worry about one such person in particular because obviously said person doesn’t care so much about me to even respond to a simple text, or a quick e-mail. Why should I care if said person is dead or alive or in jail or in the hospital?  Or perhaps just too busy with the latest victim to even come up for air for 5 seconds….  note to self: fuggidaboutit.

This one’s for you dear.

jackwild2wb

I saw the movie “Oliver!” 16 times when I was in 6th grade. I was obsessed with Jack Wild, who played The Artful Dodger. I knew every song by heart. I still know most of them and can sing them in character. Nancy, singing “As Long as He Needs Me”, Oliver sweetly singing “Where is Love?” and the Dodger singing “Consider Yourself At Home”…..  Fagan “I’m Reviewing the Situation”…..  I was so obsessed with Jack Wild that my friend Mamie and I would call the studio in LA where he was taping H.R. Puffinstuff, every day , several times a day, asking to speak to him. Mamie had her own phone line so the cost of  long distance from South Carolina to LA was of no consequence in our adolescent Jack Wild addled minds.  Finally, one day, the operator was so sick of us calling, she actually put Jack on the phone to us….. my god… imagine the shrieking screamfest that ensued….   when we were finally able to speak I asked weakly, “is this REALLY Jack Wild?”. He replied in that perfect cockney accent “who would it be if it ‘aint?”… more screaming and shrieking and crying on our end of the line.

He was cordial if confused about who the hell we were. He asked how the weather was in Carolina. I asked if he would come and be in our local Christmas parade. That’s all I remember. But god, the sheer determination of two adolescent girls still amazes me. We did it. We set our minds on talking to him and we did it.

Where is that girl? The girl with such determination? Such resolve. I guess she’s still in here somewhere. Still having various forms of hero worship. Occasionally brushing elbows with someone of some notoriety. I met Sam Shepard in a bar in West Virginia and in trying to act  all nonchalant like I didn’t know who he was I asked him “don’t you work at Jiffy Lube?”.. he was confused, looking a little scared and amused and then was very polite when I told him I was kidding. But he left the bar pretty quickly after that. My attempt at seducing him away from Jessica Lange thwarted.  I wonder still if he remembers that interaction. I can be a real ass at times.  I once took a personality test with one of the many shrinks I’ve had in my lifetime and she told me I tested as the most introverted person she had ever tested in her entire career. Funny eh?

UPDATE: Thank god I’ve aged a little better than old Jack, looks like life wasn’t too good to the child star… rest his soul….

jack-wild

Oh dear god…… makes me forced to publish my joke about Hilary Clinton that I came up with during the earlier fracas:

Hilary: “I met a mother of 4 adopted children who had just been told she is HIV positive, she lost her job and is struggling to keep a roof over the heads of these 4 formerly abused small children…..” (translation: my compassion is better than your compassion and i’ve met lots more suffering people than you have)

Hilary, later in the discussion after Obama threw out his “I met an elderly crippled veteran who was living in a box outside of a Jack in the Box”.. story:

“Barack, you know I have visited countless Iraq War veterans in our hospitals here in the US.. The last hero I met was a young man from Lemming, West Virginia, a young man only18 years old who had proudly served in the military in Iraq but who sadly lost all his limbs in a roadside bombing…. this young hero had no arms, no legs… and still….. with patriotism swelling inside of him… he was STILL able to salute me as I stood at his bedside. A true hero to the end, Barack. This is the type of young man I am going to support with everything I have to give”

Banned Books Week is coming up and I plan to make a display featuring a stunning picture of Mrs. Palin front and center. Maybe a mock-up of one of the ALA “READ” posters, with Palin holding a copy of something super racy, say The Catcher in the Rye or something, with “DON’T READ” as the poster header….. I don’t care what my manager says. OK, maybe I do. But I’m gonna try it. This story from Time magazine is interesting. This paragraph in particular:

Stein says that as mayor, Palin continued to inject religious beliefs into her policy at times. “She asked the library how she could go about banning books,” he says, because some voters thought they had inappropriate language in them. “The librarian was aghast.” That woman, Mary Ellen Baker, couldn’t be reached for comment, but news reports from the time show that Palin had threatened to fire Baker for not giving “full support” to the mayor.

Apparently the library director in question resigned in 1999. I’d be interested in knowing what information Mayor Palin was given on the process for challenging a book. OK. That’s all you’ll hear from me about this media darling. I just thank John McCain for being the dumbass that he is. The GOP is further derailing itself with this one. And while I am sad and worried for the Gulf Coast enduring another hurricane season, I thank Gustav for interrupting their big clusterfuck up in Minnesota too.

UPDATE: As if anyone actually reads this crap. The SPEECH caused me much stress.
the SPEECH made me argue with people I usually agree with. the SPEECH made me want to get a gun and go crazy on that beauty queen’s ass. But of course, we will go on. And endure. And take more medication. And move to Mexico. They won’t win, but the winner won’t be a winner and we will all lose. But that is defeatist. And that makes me bad. So I will go away and never say another word. NOT.

UPDATE: An interesting website here: http://librariansagainstpalin.wordpress.com/about/

And here’s our favorite wingnut Michelle Malkin’s take on it all.  Hysterical Librarians…. love it….