11 March 2006
March 11, 2006
I'll stop being a Staff Sergeant. So what will I be then?
Here I am, finally escaped from a pile of wrapping paper and honey balls.
So I've decided that the two greatest movies, ever, are So I Married an Axe Murderer and Strange Brew.
Posted by Samantha at 17:30
Christmas sucks a big cock. The commercial part of the holiday annoys me to no end. I love doing nice things and giving gifts but the pressure drives me bananas. i can't wait til Sunday morning.
Posted by Samantha at 20:44
this post is brought to you by my addiction to googling and the fact that sometimes i'm too tired to think creative unique thoughts... and punctuate
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.~William Shakespeare, Macbeth
The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late. ~Charles Caleb Colton
You know you have a sleeping disorder when your filtered water pitcher has been empty for two weeks beacause it takes too much energy to "make water". ~random post in a sleep forum
I'm not asleep... but that doesn't mean I'm awake. ~Author Unknown
A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie
Sleepless; and soon the small birds' melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees,
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay,
And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth:
So do not let me wear tonight away:
Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth?
Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health! ~ William Wordsworth, To Sleep
I reached for sleep and drew it round me like a blanket muffling pain and thought together in the merciful dark --Mary Stewart English novelist, The Hollow Hills, 1973
Posted by Samantha at 19:12
Just got home from North Carolina last night. My best friend is home from Iraq, so I drove down for the holiday. I made it back in 9 hours. I'm shocked. To drive 600 miles on I95 on the day after Thanksgiving and not hit a single traffic jam is unheard of. Maybe I drove through a wormhole. Oh and strangers don't sppreciate it when you show them how to use the hands-free papertowel dispenser at the Delaware rest stop.
Posted by Samantha at 16:42
Howdy do neighbors. Yay beer. Woo, this dealing with life and stuff is a pisser. I'm lucky though. I get to make decisions every day. I'm not stuck. I have a wonderful, angel of a boyfriend, and happily insane family, and some fantastic friends. Not too many though. Just a couple. I'm not boasting, just counting my blaessings if you will. It's hard to focus when there are so many "real" things going on. I guess that's a good thing? I wish I were more creative writing inclined so I could wow and amaze, but alas, Samantha was not made for spinning tales of the open sea and such. She is much better suited to jokies and self deprecating humor. So Adieu, Auf Weidersen, good night.... for tonight, you dopes. i ain't going nowhere. duh.
Posted by Samantha at 20:56
Vegas was fun. Vegas is always fun. We ate, we drank, we looked at a lot of cars and trucks. I attended SEMA, an auto industry convention, with the boyfriend. My feet pretty much fell off.
There is a show on A&E, "Random 1". I teared up. It was amazing. Random 1
Posted by Samantha at 00:06
I don't know why i haven't had much to say lately. I'm very opinionated so this is out of character. Between compiling all the ingredients for a kick-ass resume, not knitting, not grocery shopping, and not sleeping enough, I find myself pretty drained every day. I'm very happy with the weather this week. Highs in the upper 60's, lows in the lower 50's, my favorite. Our president is still a silly, silly man. I found a few tv shows I like, and my livingroom television crapped out two days ago. Sound's fine, but the screen consists of one horizontal line, one pixel high of bright colors. I have a 13-inch in my bedroom, but my evil neighbor's bedroom is right under the cabinet so I try to exercise noise discipline after 9pm. I am going to Vegas in two weeks, yeeha! I had a great time the first time I went, so now I can skip the cheesy, it's my first time crap and really dig in. I don't gamble, but there's so much going on. I loooooove the theater. Also food and alcohol, so I'm set. And that's it. Check ya later.
Posted by Samantha at 13:10
Hey sportsfans. Been real busy trying to get things together for the big career change. I realized that I can't too much accomplished standing still. I'm still here, but you know how that damn real world can get in the way sometimes. I'm still here.
Posted by Samantha at 21:17
I saw a car yesterday afternoon with a wreath on the grill. An older Lincoln car. It wasn't an autumn wreath. It had a shiny gold bow and it was 3 inches off the ground. I've seen Christmas decorations lurking in the back of Target also. It's ridiculous.
Posted by Samantha at 16:34
I couldn't sign the damn eval anyway. There were administrative errors so I have to wait until tomorrow.
Posted by Samantha at 21:47
I really wanted to run her obscene existence off the road and into a building, maybe the street lamp. All I wanted to was go to battalion to sign my annual evaluation. I had to leave at 3pm and take Route 70, one of the deadliest roads in the state, due in large part to the disproportionate population of senior citizen communities. It's the major East-West road from Toms River to Camden. Unfortunately much of the road is only one lane in either direction, barring traffic circles (roundabouts, rotaries, etc.) and every damn traffic light. At nearly every intersection, the lane divides into 2 to seemingly let turning people turn and non-turning people continue on their way. Of course the lanes aren't exclusively one or the other. I don't know why one lane can't be marked as left or right turn only and the other as straight. Irrelevent at this point. New Jersey is a densely populated state with a shitty shitty mass transit "system", so everyone drives, and drive terribly they do. So, I'm trucking down the road and this car comes flying around from my right side on the one lane per direction road. I proceed to lay on the horn and become the recipient of the special one fingered salute and this "jerking off" gesture. You know, like a hand monacle moving. At this point I was shocked but I hadn'tyet seen the face of this lovely creature. Everytime we came to an intersection this genius would attempt to get in front of another person by flying into the right lane, shoulder or the "jug handle", cuz lord knows you can't turn left without going right in Jersey. So fuckface keeps weaving back and forth and after the third or fourth time of not getting anywhere I got in front finally just to try to get away. I've seen so many accidents here and at home across the river and i find getting as far as possible from the psychopath is the best strategy. So I pull past the car and the driver is: 1. female, and 2. older! When I say older I mean at least 60. Not decrepit but possibly having incontinence issues. I was floored. Speachless. A grown woman gave me the finger and a "jerk off". I've given the finger. More than a few times. I've also spewed plenty of obscenities. For some reason I found this woman so offensive and disgusting I wanted to scream. And run her off the road. I thought about writing down her plate number and calling 911 or the agressive driver phone number, but I don't know the driver hotline and I couldn't find a pen before she sped off. She continued to terrorize people as she wove and jumped in and out of traffic until she passed over the farthest rise. I thought for a moment that there might be some emergency she was trying to get to, but there was so much anger and violence contained in her driving there was no way that could be the case. What gives her the right to act as though she's the only one on the road? Why aren't there ever any goddamn cops around? And why do all the fucking idiots have to drive near me? I hope no one got hurt, but I also hope her car gets stolen.
Posted by Samantha at 21:07
my blood pressure was 153/103 at 8 this morning. I want to vent about everything going on with my medical board, but I know better than that. There are many things I don't know about when it comes to who's watching what. I don't hide my identity or my general location and occupation so I know it's in my best interest to wait on sharing and caring. Unfortunately that's the cause of my little hypertensive crisis from earlier today and it's pretty much the main thing going on right now. Such is life. I need to learn how to cope better.
Posted by Samantha at 21:09
For no particular reason I dreamt my teeth were falling out last night. Apparently this is a common symbol of communication issues or fearing how one appears to the public. I think it's because I have a few thousand dollars of dental artwork in my mouth and i think about it every now and again.
Posted by Samantha at 13:08
If a person feels she might be special, is she actually special or is she wishing herself to be special, unique, different...
Is it possible, truly, to see sounds and smell colors or is it hallucination? And while we're on the topic, if you tihnk you're crazy, does it mean you aren't, or does it mean you're just aware of the fact?
Posted by Samantha at 19:43
Have you ever been in a bathroom so disgusting that you debated if your hands would be cleaner if you didn't touch anything in there? I95 in Delaware, North and South. It only runs through the key state for 5 exots, so there's only one gas stop. It's the cheapest one from NYC to DC so I always stop there to fill up, but holy hepatitis batman. Also, for those of you "disabled veterans" like myself having the misfortune of traveling to Walter Reed on a Monday morning, take heed: There aren't even any illegal parking spots. I found myself debating whether to sit in front of the main entrance and offer a ride to the car of any departing patients, but someone left after my 45th patrol around the lower level of the parking garage. Oh and if you're deficient on your "ghetto cruising" quota, please take a ride with me. Anywhere. I can find the most decrepit community in any town, anywhere. I get the adventure bug every now and again. On my way home this afternoon I decided to get on Route 1 instead of the good ole' thruway because I am tired of drive through food. Well I didn't find any food, but i did take a lovely tour of south eastern Baltimore. Understand that I'm in now way paranoid or scared. I'm not a thug or anything, but a neighborhood is a neighborhood. I grew up in the Bronx in a lower middle class urban area. Be that as it may, I also decided to venture forth sans map like a dope. I followed route 1 until I lost it and then just stayed in a North/Northeasterly direction until I ran into 695. Then I went to Panera Bread and felt better. Then I wasn't paying attention and got back onto 95 SOUTH for 5 minutes. So it technically took me 7 hours to get back to Middlesex County. Fuck it. It's not like gas is over $3 a gallon or anything.
Posted by Samantha at 21:35
Jacques Le Moyne, Plate XIX
(DOD) US military personnel, US citizen civilian employees of the Department of Defense, and the dependents of both categories who travel in connection with the death of an immediate family member. It also applies to designated escorts for dependents of deceased military members. Furthermore, the term is used to designate the personal property shipment of a deceased member.
I've been on death detail before. It's a humbling experience. Sometimes when you go to another location for a training exercise or when you deploy, you end up bringing your dress uniform with you so you can ride in the back of a C-10 with a casket.We just got a guy in from Germany this morning whose wife passed away. He flew with her. His leave form and travel orders have "Blue Bark" emblazoned on them. Every time he has to turn in either of these documents people will know why he's here. Reminds me of the mourning veils widows wear.
Posted by Samantha at 12:26
Lots of people fucked up. There are some serious issues. Racial, economic, micro and macro. Let's dust orselves off and take it like the big men and women that we are. Help yourself and others. HELP YOURSELF. HELP OTHERS. I have a big bag of clothes on its way somewhere. There is a time for redemption and reckoning. Now is the time for rescue and relief. The rest of it will come.
Posted by Samantha at 19:14
Desparate online personal ad (if the truth was told)
My name is Mary, I'm 32 years old and I am an elementary school teacher. I went to school to be a chemist and when I was working on my Master's thesis I blew one of my professors because he said he'd hook me up, but then his wife found out and I left before the end of the semester. I am very clingy, and I do put out on the first date. I think my ideal date would be dinner at my house. Well, when I say my house, I mean my basement sublet. I call it a studio, but seriously, it's like 300 square feet, and my 3 cats pretty much rulw the roost. So anyway, dinner. I'm a great cook. Of course, there's always cat hair in everything, but they're white, so you know, you can pick them out. So while we have dinner I'll get you tipsy on Franzia wine and then we can move down to the rug and make out for a while. The kitties get a little jealous because we don't get too many visitors, but I'll just corral them intot he bathroom and turn the music up to drown out the wailing cat noises. Did I mention they're all female and in heat? Isn't that adorable? You do like Yanni right? I want you to make sweet passionate love to my ass and mouth and then right when you feel it building up inside, I'm going to start crying, not because i was abused or anything, just that I'm selfish and insecure and the attention has to be on me. I'd love it if you'd stay the night. I know you have to get back home, but I love you now, and you're my boyfriend. Oh, and I love to dance.
Posted by Samantha at 08:17
And by that I mean i have no time whatsoever lately. I spent the majority of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday in an automobile. This makes for a very cranky Samantha. I drove to D.C. again on Friday to get my head and vagina examined by medical professionals. i left my apartment at 7am, got to the hospital around 1130am, left the hospital at 430pm, got back to my house around 9pm, left my house at 10pm to go to the boyfriend's house, and got there around 11pm. The day at the hospital deserves it's own post. On Saturday we drove to Arlington, Massachusetts to visit with friends and go on a casino/booze cruise. Another 5 hours of my life I can never have back. I hate I-95. Anyway, the cruise was fun. I was waiting for it to become the Poseidon Adventure, what with the friggin swells, the damn boat was rolling all over the place. It made for a cheap buzz. I like the water so fuck everyone else. We got on the road around 1pm Sunday and didn't get back to the greater NYC area until 7pm. I was back in my truck at 530am Monday morning to go to work. From 6am Friday to 6am Monday I was in a vehicle for nearly 24 hours. Of course gas is like 40 dollars a damn gallon as well. And for my pick-em-up truck that's pretty bad news.
Posted by Samantha at 14:42
I feel like I'm sneaking out of the asylum door that one of the orderlies left open. I'm all tip-toey hoping no one notices. I mean it was their decision in the first place, but still. I can't wait till I'm actually out for real and then I can be candid and share without fear of repercussion.
--In other news, James Brown's "Super Bad" is totally one of my favorite songs. Just because.
Posted by Samantha at 19:36
i really can't seem to get over myself sometimes. I've put on a rather good lot of weight over the past year. i'm inherently lazy, and with the amount of stress i've managed to put on myself in recent months, it's really no wonder. looking at old pictures brings it home even more. i have these miny breakdowns, the quietest anxiety attack you ever did see. i get terribly insecure and it eats at me and i feel guilty for feeling bad about myself and the boyfriend tries to be supportive and caring and i beat myself up, how endearing. i can't forget about overreacting and reading into everything. deep down i know that sometimes people are socializing and can't talk to me whenever i desire but it still sends my dramatic imagination into outer space about my out of shape fat self. Never mind the whole changing caree path thing. I'm trying to remind myself that there was a time i savored change like the intial incline of a rollercoaster. I get to pick my method of bacon bringing for the next long while, where other folks are bogged down in mediocrity. the source of the anxiety is said bacon. I have no savings to speak of. I probab;y have a negative net worth. But now I'm on the phone with my bunny and he's being his sweet self and I feel like a minor league loon who needs to get a grip. Gotta love that rollercoaster.
Posted by Samantha at 22:11
Posted by Samantha at 22:44
Happy Birthday Monica. She's 28 today. She's a medic, like me. She's here.
The Mujahedin el-Khalq (MKO or MEK) main base is at Camp Ashraf, Iraq, about 100 kilometers west of the Iranian border and 60 kilometers north of Baghdad. The People's Mujahadeen, also known by its Persian name Mujahedeen-e Khalq (MEK), has been classified by Washington as a terrorist organization. Washington announced on 22 April 2003 that it had reached a ceasefire with the MEK. The next day MEK officials said the agreement allowed the MEK to keep its weapons and carry on its activities in Iran from Camp Ashraf. But June 2003 the US Military Police took control of Camp Ashraf and the MEK was consolidated and all weapons secured by MPs. As of September 2003 the 4,000 MEK members in the former Mujahedeen base were consolidated, detained, disarmed and were being screened for any past terrorist acts.
The 530th MP Battalion, maintained the MEK Detention Facility at Camp Ashraf.
According to the U.S. military, it does not hold any Iranian detainees but Iraqis accused of serious crimes such as murder and rape.
She's on my short list of for real best friends and all around favorite people. I don't have any pictures of her online or i'd share. She rocks.
Posted by Samantha at 19:04
I can finally share what I've been working on for the past 2 months. The boyfriend turned a grand 25 years old on Friday.
His sister, her best friend, and I orchestrated a surprise party for him. He hasn't been the extra special birthday boy in quite some time so we decided to throw him a fete because he deserves it and he rocks.
It was quite the undertaking as he and I are on the phone constantly and I'm with him every weekend. He was totally surprised though, so yay us.
He really likes poker and gambling, etc. so we made out own casino theme. Of course he and the boys played cards for a while. This is what happens when you mix Jack Daniels and poker.
Happy Birthday Hunny Bunny
Posted by Samantha at 17:27
I was jonesing for dinner and decided to drive straight to food from work, a direction i hadn't taken yet. Of course I got off the wrong exit and drove in a large circle for 30 minutes. Magically I decided to make a left and there was my yummy restaurant. I felt very psychic that moment, thank you.
Posted by Samantha at 19:56
Back to work. woohoo. At least I don't have to venture down the NJ turnpike, or the devil's asshole, anymore for at least a few more weeks.So now I'm back and i have no idea what my timeline is. I might have two more months or 6 more months. So I have to gather myself together and make neat piles before I hit the skids. There's nothing real entertaining about any of this, just need to get it out. I have so much to do. I have to find a new job, get my finances together, get rid of some minor debts, blah blah blah. maybe after i get a full night's sleep I'll be funnier.
Posted by Samantha at 07:34
I am so goddamn tired. We spent a three day weekend in Carlisle, Pannsylvania at a huge truck show. Drank a lot of beer, ate hot wings, looked at cool trucks. It took 4 hours to get there Friday morning and almost 7 to get home on Sunday. The New Jersey Turnpike is a funnel for retarded people (no offense to retarded people) to go from New York to the rest of the country. I left Long Island at 4am and made it to Philly in less than 90 minutes, a personal best, but I encountered the most ridiculous people at a rest stop. There is no room for rude behavior at 5am. All I wanted to do was pull into a parking spot before i peed myself and this group of people stood directly in front of my truck having a conversation. I even rolled my window down and politely asked if i could get into the spot and received the reply of, "Just a second."!!! GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY BEFORE I PEE ON YOU, is what i should have said in response, but I just glared at him, because I was very tired. I got down to D.C. around 8:30-ish and got poked in the ears, eyes, median cubital vein, and got to pee in a cup. Lucky me. One thing I did not et, however, was answers. Some of my labs weren't beck yet, so I have to wait two weeks. Oh well. i have pics from the weekend and the drive, but mine eyes are weary, so till the morrow.
Posted by Samantha at 18:57
Well, it looks like I may have some answers come Monday afternoon regarding my timeline for ceasing employment with my namesake Uncle. I have to go to D.C. again for more poking and then an appointment with the doctor. I have so much time and so little to do!*
Posted by Samantha at 20:32
One of the buildings on post (one of the many) is going to be emptied out to accomadate another activity and I'm helping the soon to be previous occupant clean up. There are these two gnarly looking metal cabinets with 4(?) flip-up glass doors. They have to be at least 40-50 years old, probably all lead painted. The entire place'll be gutted so I asked H. if I could load them up in the pick-em-up truck for "someone who could use them". I'm determined to find a use for them. I'll repaint them. I have a decent bookcase, so maybe i could do Army and baseball memorabilia or something. I don't want to get lectured by a certain someone on how i already have no room. I'm well aware. I want them anyway. So there. (loving you)
--Ooh, I knitted last night. It only tok me 3 hours to cast-on and knit-stitch ten rows. I fancy myself to be pretty smart, but I am one of the most uncoordinated fuckers I know. So now I'm making shit. With my own fangers. Who wants a scarf?
Posted by Samantha at 16:01
I think I've certified myself as a dork. I totally love Google Earth. I mapped addresses for at least 2 hours yesterday. It's the coolest goddamn thing. You can look at certain areas in 3D as well. It makes me nauseous when it zooms in to a new location though.
There are an alarming amount of Virgin Mary statues in dog houses. Trust me, they're definitely dog houses. I stared at it long and hard.
SO Penn Station was evacuated and I'm subject to search on any public transportation in my fair city. I'm more surprised it took nearly four years.
Bomb Scare Empties NYC's Penn Station
Posted by Samantha at 09:34
I need a hobby. I also need money, energy, and central air conditioning. I'm thinking about knitting. I was never good at it as a child. My grandma taught me how to sew, embroider, cross-stitch and hook, but knitting always escaped me. not that i was any good at any of those either, but I was profoundly bad at knitting. Anyone out there knit? If so, do you enjoy it? Any tips are welcome.
Posted by Samantha at 12:42
This can't possibly be a priority. I'm fucking mystified. Pepole are dying, starving, killing, exposing CIA agents who may or may not have been covert operatives blah blah blah, bombing buildings, planes, tubes, and tube stations, raping, kidnapping, and so on, but this is going to solve everything. I think the pod people or the Scientologists or maybe the goddamn lizard men have finally gotten into our brains. My fucking head hurts.
Panel Backs Extension of Daylight-Saving Time
WASHINGTON (July 19) - A joint Senate-House committee working out the details of a broad U.S. energy bill voted on Tuesday to expand U.S. daylight-saving time by two months to help reduce energy consumption.
Negotiators from both chambers are racing against the clock to put a final energy package on President Bush's desk by a self-imposed deadline of Aug. 1.
Among the conflicts to be resolved is the cost of energy production tax breaks, which totaled $8 billion in the House bill and $16 billion in the Senate bill, and legal protection for oil refiners that manufactured a fuel additive suspected of being a carcinogen.
On Tuesday, the negotiators from the Senate and House agreed to move the start of daylight-saving time in the United States one month earlier to the first Sunday in March. The end of daylight time would be delayed one month to the last Sunday in November.
Daylight-saving time occurs each spring when clocks are turned forward by one hour. U.S. clocks go back one hour to standard time in the fall.
Supporters claim extending daylight-saving time would save about 100,000 barrels of oil a day because offices and stores would be open while it was still light outside and therefore use less energy.
Democratic Sen. Jeff Bingaman will try to amend the plan before lawmakers finish the bill by shortening the period that daylight-saving time would be extended. A Bingaman aide pointed out that farmers are opposed to the extra two months because they will have to start their workday in the dark.
Separately, Senate Democrats plan to offer an amendment to the final energy bill to cut U.S. oil consumption by 1 million barrels a day in a decade.
The Senate approved such a plan in its version of energy legislation, while the House rejected it in its energy bill.
House lawmakers with automakers in their districts are against the proposal, fearing it is a backdoor way to require U.S. minivans, sport utility vehicles and pickup trucks to improve their fuel efficiency.
However, some lawmakers believe it makes sense to tighten the mileage requirements of new vehicles because gasoline demand accounts for about 40 percent of total U.S. oil use.
The Senate's plan would not mandate any specific action to reduce oil consumption, and leaves it up to the president to figure out how to save the oil.
One of the major issues that still has to be worked out is whether to give oil companies that make the water-polluting gasoline additive MTBE protection from certain lawsuits.
The House put the liability waiver in its energy bill, while the Senate strongly opposes the lawsuit protection. Republican Joe Barton of Texas, who chairs the House-Senate committee working on the energy bill, is trying to reach a compromise deal on the issue.
Barton has proposed creating a trust fund to help pay for the cleanup, estimated to be in the billions of dollars.
MTBE producers would pay a "significant amount" of the trust fund, said one industry lobbyist negotiating the deal, who declined to elaborate. One sticking point to a deal is some MTBE producers, presumably the smaller companies, may have to pay more into the fund than their expected liability, the lobbyist said.
Posted by Samantha at 19:52
I saw "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" yesterday. I got a kick out the fact that I saw it a movie theater in East Hampton, NY. A movie about greedy little kids that get spoiled. In the Hamptons. Heh heh. Anyway, it was interesting. And by interesting I mean odd. Like an acid trip. I know that the original movie did not do the book any justice, but that is my vision of the movie, so it was different. I was actually kind of disappointed with the effects. It was so cgi'd. The Oompa Loompa is one guy that they multiplied. That's a whoel topic in itself. The Oompa Loompa songs were not what we all knew them to be. It was darker, and I enjoyed Burton's translation of the book. Johnny Depp played an insane Wonka. Where Gene Wilder's Wonka was crazyand clever at the same time, Depp's portrayal was absolute madness. The kids were evil little bastards too. Augustus, Violet, Veruca, and Mike had no redeeming qualities whatsoever, and the actors that played them were very entertaining. All in all I liked it but I know a lot of people are going to be bothered by the departure from the first movie, which was a departure from the book in the first place.
Oh, and I got really drunk all weekend and got about a gazillion mosquito bites on my feet.
Posted by Samantha at 10:26
I wouldn't be who I am today were it not for my experiences. I'm definitely the sum of my parts. And thankfully I've found loving, positive people and relationships who have been my "therapists" and I theirs. The bonds I share with my dad and sister and my best friend and boyfriend are the reasons behind my breaking the cycle of toxic relationships and people. There are plenty of people who have had life deal them a much shittier deck than me, and I'm thankful that I'm okay. ::smile::
Posted by Samantha at 22:43
I'm bent for finding this amusing
My mother's boyfriend(?) ::wretch:: Bob died on Saturday. Apparently he's had a few heart attacks and strokes over the past year and the last one got him good. I told my dad and aunt (her sister) that I think he asked the nurse to do him in so he wouldn't have to go back. He was in his 70's. My mom is 50. They've lived together for 13 years I think. She had to get the fuck away from us. I guess two trips to rehab wasn't far enough, so she decided to shack up with Bob. Bob lived 3 blocks away. Classy. My dad never divorced her because she has some degenerative disk thing and has to get surgery all the time. I'm pretty sure she'll keep on for a whiel though, as I've heard pain killers and vodka preserve your organs better than formaldehyde. So all this time she and Bob have been yucking it up and my dad chose not to divorce her so she could have his medical coverage. So Bob kicked it. I wouldn't have known this happened if Hurricane Dennis hadn't visited. My aunt and uncle live on the central Gulf Coast of Florida so I emailed her Sunday to see if they were okay. We hadn't spoken in 6 months because I didn' visit her at my uncle's house when she was up to visit because mother was supposed to be there. So she emails me back about Bob and we were ont he phone for a good 2 hours last night. My mother is an extremely unpleasant person. Apparently when her father died a few years ago, she took "her" money and put it in an account under ole boy's name so my dad couldn't use it on court for child support. And oh by the way, she led the hospital to believe she was Bob's wife so she could make decisions regarding DNR's, treatment, etc. What a doll. Um, oh yeah, he left her his house on Eastchester Bay and around $250K in insurance policies, allegedly. So then I hear she was at the funeral home last night or whenever and my other aunt is there and she tells her all this and asks her not to tell Jean (Florida) because she's cool with my dad and she doesn't want him to know. Just so ya's understand, everyone's cool with my dad. My mother's mother liked my dad better than her own daughter. i reassured her that she wouldn't have to tell him, because I was going to as soon as we finished our conversation. We spoke for a while longer and then I got my dad on the horn and pretty much commanded him to call his lawyer. He won't though, as he's a puss and pities her. He met her when they were 22 years old. She had a lovely infant daughter named Samantha who was about 6 months old. Eric knew Samantha's biological "father" as well, not that it mattered, as Neil's involvement with Dena's pregnancy consisted of him kindly suggesting she get an abortion or he was hitting the skids. So they married when Samantha was 3 or so and he went to the courthouse to let them know he was my father and could they correct my birth certificate. That's a Bronx adoption for you. Seven years later they made my doll of a sister. Seven years, 2 trips to rehab and alot of tears after that Elvis left the building. Soooo, i hope she got what she wanted. She's alone in a big house with some money. I bet my dad she wouldn't make it five years.
Posted by Samantha at 11:53
-From Dirty Jokes and Beer, "101 Big Dick Jokes"
My dick is so big, there's still snow on it in the summertime.
My dick is so big, I went to The Viper Room and my dick got right in. I had to stand and argue with the doorman.
My dick is so big, I have to call it Mr. Dick in front of company.
My dick is so big, it won't return Spielberg's calls.
My dick is so big, it graduated a year ahead of me from high school.
My dick has an elevator and a lobby.
My dick has better credit than I do.
My dick is so big, clowns climb out of it when I cum.
My dick is so big, it was overthrown by a military coup. It's now known as the Democratic Republic of My Dick.
My dick is so big, it has casters.
My dick is so big, I'm already fucking a girl tomorrow.
My dick is so big, ships use it to find their way into the harbor.
My dick is so big, there was once a movie called Godzilla vs. My Dick.
My dick is so big, it lives next door.
My dick is so big, I entered it in a big-dick contest and it came in first, second, and third.
My dick is so big, it votes.
My dick is a better dresser than I am.
My dick is so big, it has a three-picture deal.
My dick is so big that the head of it has only seen my balls in pictures.
My dick is so big, Hank Aaron used it to hit his 750th home run.
My dick runs the 440 in 15 seconds
My dick is the Walrus, koo koo ka choo.
No matter where I go, my dick always gets there first.
My dick takes longer lunches than I do.
My dick contributed fifty thousand dollars to the Democratic National Committee.
My dick was once the ambassador to China.
My dick is so big, it's gone condo.
My dick hit .270 in the minors before it hurt its knee.
My dick was almost drafted by the Cleveland Browns, but Art Modell didn't want a bigger dick than him on the team.
My dick is so big, I use the Eiffel Tower as a French tickler.
It's so big, when it rains the head of my dick doesn't get wet.
My dick is so big, I could wear it as a tie if I wasn't so afraid of getting a hard-on and killing myself.
My dick is so big, I have to use an elastic zipper.
My dick is so big, it has feet.
My dick is so big, a homeless family lives underneath it.
My dick is so big, it takes four fat women and a team of Clydesdales to jack me off.
My dick is so big, my mother was in labor for three extra days.
My dick is so big, they use the bullet train to test my condoms.
My dick is so big, it has investors.
My dick is so big, it seats six.
My dick is so big, I use a hula hoop as a cock ring.
My dick is so big, we use it at parties as a limbo pole.
My dick is so big, King Kong is going to crawl up it in the next remake.
My dick is so big, it has an opening act.
My dick is so big I can fuck an elevator shaft.
My dick is so big, it has its own Wheaties box.
My dick is so big, I have to cook it breakfast in the mornings.
My dick is so big, the city had to carve a hole in the middle of it so cars could get through.
My dick is so big, every time I get hard I cause a solar eclipse.
My dick is so big, it only plays arenas.
If you cut my dick in two, you can tell how old I am.
My dick was once set on fire for a Dino DiLaurentis movie.
My dick is so big, it needs an airplane warning light.
My dick is so big, Trump owns it.
My dick is so big that we're all a part of it, and it's all a part of us.
My dick is so big, I can never sit in the front row.
My dick is so big, that it has its own dick. And even my dick's dick is bigger than your dick.
My dick is so big, you can't blow me without a ladder.
My dick is so big, it only does one show a night.
My dick is so big, you can ski down it.
My dick is so big, it has an elbow.
My dick is so big, I have to check it as luggage when I fly.
My dick is so big, it has a personal trainer.
My dick is so big, that right now it's in the other room fixing us drinks.
My dick is so big, it has a retractable dome.
My dick is so big, it has stairs up the center like the Statue of Liberty.
My dick is so big, there's a sneaker named "Air My Dick"
My dick is so big, I'm it's bitch.
My dick is so big, it's against the law to fuck me without protective headgear.
My dick is so big, I could fuck a tuba.
My dick is so big, Stephen Hawking has a theory about it.
My dick is so big, it has its own gravity.
NASA once launched a space probe to search for the tip of my dick.
My dick is so big, it's impossible to see all of it without a satellite.
The inside of my dick contains billions and billions of stars.
My dick is so big, it has a spine.
My dick is so big, it has a basement.
My dick is so big, movie theaters now serve popcorn in small, medium, large, and My Dick.
My dick is more muscular than I am.
My dick is so big it has cable.
My dick is so big, it violates seventeen zoning laws.
My dick is so big, it has its own page in the Sierra Club calendar.
My dick is so big, it has a fifty-yard line.
My dick is so big, I was once in Ohio and got a blow job in Tennessee.
My dick is so big, Las Vegas casinos fly it into town for free.
My dick is so big, I can braid it.
My dick is so big, that when it's Eastern Standard Time at the tip, it's Central Mountain Time at my balls.
My dick is so big, I painted the foreskin red, white, and blue and used it as a flag.
My dick is so big, I can sit on it.
My dick is so big, it can chew gum.
My dick is so big, it only tips with hundreds.
My dick is so big, the Carnegie Deli named a sandwich after it. Actually, two sandwiches.
My dick is so big, the city was going to build a statue of it but they ran out of cement.
My dick is so big, Michael Jackson wants to build an amusement park on it.
My dick is so big, when I get hard my eyebrows get pulled down to my neck.
My dick is so big, you're standing on it.
My dick is so big, it only comes into work when it feels like it.
My dick is so big, it plays golf with the president.
My dick is so big, it charges money for its autograph.
My dick is so big, it has an agent. My dick's people will call your people. Let's have lunch with my dick.
My dick is so big, it's right behind you.
Posted by Samantha at 09:49
I am the blahest blah that ever blahed right now. I kinda feel like I'm almost not here, like a hologram. It's been raining for a few days also. woohoo. The suffering and tragedy will always continue and pass. And as grey and down as I've ever felt, the thought of my last moment consisting of swing from a closet rod doesn't appeal to me in the slightest, but it did for someone and I hope he's at peace with himself if, in fact we really do continue on in a collective memory. I knew him casually.
Posted by Samantha at 23:18
I am a Yankee fan. I AM A YANKEE FAN. Born and bred, don't like the Sox purely for the sake of rivalry. I do however, enjoy a good story, especially a well-written baseball story. It's 6 pages long, but if you are an old school fan and cared anything about last year's AL Championship, it's a good read.
The Red Sox's Bloodiest Day
Posted by Samantha at 21:55
I need a holiday for the holiday, my desk is in a state of total disarray. If you know me for real, you know this is driving me bananas. Also, why doesn't Angelina Jolie adopt a baby from Compton instead of Africa and Cambodia? Color me an Isolationist, but for real.
I am a Sirius satellite radio subscriber. Love it. I was listening the other day and heard a promo for a new program. "Raw Dog Comedy", the harsher of the two comedy stations, was looking into a weekly live comedy show in studio and wanted a test audience. I signed up knowing I'd never get a phone call.
A Night of Stand-up
I got the call Monday evening from a nice corporate sounding gentleman who asked if I could make it Tuesday at 6pm with a guest and so began the Tuesday journey into Manhattan. I was especially excited because I'm not just a Stand-up comedy fan, but a huge fan of Jim Breuer, who happens to have his own show on Raw Dog. I've spoken to him a few times on the phone, not that we're pisans or anything, but I was enthusiastic nevertheless. I take the 90 minute train ride from the depths of Central Jersey and the boyfriend does the same from beautiful Nassau County, or "Up Island" as Buffy and Chad out in the hamptons would call it. After meeting up at Penn Station, speed walking 15 blocks, and going through security, we were presented with an outstanding show. I can't remember all the names, but they were really funny. One guy, Richard (I have no short term memory whatsoever) was hilarious. There were a few other comedians hanging around that I recognized and we got to bullshit with them for a few minutes. That wrapped up around 8pm, and we were famished, so we walked a few blocks up and ate at "Bar Americain", Bobbly Flay's new place. Now folks, understand that I am not a Manhattanite. I was/am a blue collar Catholic raised mutt Caucasian from the Bronx. I do love the "city", but below 14th street more often than mid-town. Not much for the "suits". Anyways, we were there, so fuck it. The food was fucking awesome. How's that for a review? We had a smattering of things and it was all outstanding. And I got to see the boyfriend during the week, so yay for me. Of course I didn't get home till 130am, but it'll be okay. I got my wakey-wake pills to keep me wide-eyed.
-Also, if you don't know about the world-wide revolution, go check it out . Now.
Totally blew the roof off last night and unloaded on the defenseless boyfriend. He's been working to make some extra dough lately, which I have no problem with. He worked late Friday, came home, changed and we ran out the door. We saw Lewis Black perform at the North Fork Theatre in Westbury. Good stuff. I'm a huge stand up fan and Lew is one of my favorites. It took me 3 hours to drive 60 miles which was also a blast. Anyway, after the show we grabbed a few beers. Saturday rolls around and he gets up at 7am and works until 6pm. Comes home, showers, and we proceed to go to dinner and a bar with some friends for a birthday. Home around 2am, he gets up again Sunday morning, works until 3 or so and comes home. The two of us with another couple, go to the Mexican restaurant down the street (his fav) and chow down. We also drank two carafes of Margarita. Get home, rabbit hump all over the house, and he promptly falls asleep. In restrospect it's actually amusing. At the time, however, I wasn't amused. I had spent the day doing laundry and tring to find other nice things to do for him, and when he got home he apologized for not being around too much. Totally cool though, because he's working. Apparently I got my feelings hurt when we finished "fooling around" and he fell asleep on me. I finished the laundry and tried to wake him up a few times to no avail. I was so annoyed that when he did get up 2 hours later to take his contacts out, I lit into him and immediately started crying. I wonder if I'm gettingm y period this week.
Posted by Samantha at 17:51
Hey blog-lovers, thank you for the support although I feel like a self-conscious attention hungry dope now. I love you guys. Me: "Wah, poor me, no one comments." Ew. Blech. But I do yearn for the interaction. Am I the only one who stares at the keyboard sometimes and thinks,"I can't think of a goddamned thing to say that's interesting."? That's dumb, but I do it all the time. "You like me, you really like me." Ew, but yay at the same time.
Posted by Samantha at 18:33
There are these surreal days when I find myself in an altered mood. Not pensive or melancholy, not brimming with ecstasy. Calm, peaceful. An antidpressant haze without the pill. A still lake. A desert valley. And I'm afraid if I speak I'll startle myself.
On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound
I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la ...
After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead
You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la ...
After nine days I let the horse run free
'Cause the desert had turned to sea
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
there was sand and hills and rings
The ocean is a desert with it's life underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground
But the humans will give no love
You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la ...
Posted by Samantha at 21:58
Saturday was a resounding success. When I get a hold of the footage, you will all be privy to the madness. Our father's got along great. All six of us got soused on a combo of Italian wine, beefeaters Gin and tonics, and Budlight. Dinner was awesome. We finished around 8 o'clock and we all decided to find something to do.
I'm a major fan of stand-up and we wanted something where we could drink more and hang so we went here . Talk about a fucking good time. Our dad's are very "New York City" so the comedian's ragged on them the entire time. Six comedians and a two drink minimum for $15. Not too shabby. When the evening came to a close, my dad and sister left for Grand Central to hop on their train to Outer Mongolia (Putnam County), and we ventured to Penn Station to catch ours . Of course, there were a few punk asses in our car who decided to provoke Mike and his dad, almost ending up in a tussle, but Mike's sis and I were having none of that and neither were the conductors, so crisis resolved. Good times.
Posted by Samantha at 18:49
I called shoes.com this morning and had the lovely customer service representative delete my order for these and a pair of Sauconys and Etnies so I could overnight the sandals. Ground shipping is free, but I have to have these by Saturday or the fabric of time will rip. I have managed to orchestrate a dinner for Father's Day with my dad, my sister, Mike's dad, and Mike's sister. Mike's mom died almost two years ago and my mom is not, shall we say, "with it". Anyway, we've been together a year this month (how gay am I) and our pops have not hung out. They're both humorous functional alcoholics who enjoy cigars so I decided that a meeting is overdue. We're going here for dinner because my dad and I always go here for every occasion we can justify with dinner and wine, and it's in the neighborhood where we all grew up, so I wanted to go to a different place. So I'm predictably becoming increasingly neurotic about the whole situation and I have to have those shoes.
On a separate matter, Cingular Wireless is a cleveland steamer loving, hypocritical whore-mongering soulless machine. More on that later.
Posted by Samantha at 11:23
Today is the Army and American flag's 230 birthday. Of course our high ranking officials were out in their dressy glory, and units cut cakes to "celebrate".
I participated in a ceremony as well. The Army flag has 175 battle streamers from the major actions we've participated in since the colonies. We go through this whole thing where we attach each group of streamers to the flag as the narrator summarizes each war or conflict and salute. When she got to WWII, a vet stood up and saluted as the clip was fastened. He remained standing for Korea and a few men joined him. Then Vietnam. A few stood up a few sat back down. Saluted. Grenada. Desert Storm. And last, Kosovo. Of course next year a few more will be added unfortunately. I wasn't expecting the older man to stand up and render courtesy. In the 95 degree heat I also wasn't expecting him to remain standing for the time he did. Very presumptuous of me. I teared up and let them stream down my face as I attached the Vietnam streamers. It always feels surreal to me to witness and take part in these events. All opinions and political feelings aside, It's humbling to be a part of something so much bigger than oneself. I'll miss it.
The U.S. Army Birthday and Flag Day
Posted by Samantha at 19:45
Another goddamn sunburn. It was breezy and in the 70's at the car show. Right on the bay. After i threw up in a goodie bag because I'm a part-time lush and slept for an hour in the bed of Mike's truck we had a lovely day. That motherfucking sun was lurking behind some cheery cumulus clouds as I munched on french fries. Lo and behold, about 6 hours after we got home I burst into flames once again. This time I was wearing a tank-top so I got my shoulders real good. Nothing like wearing a starched uniform when it's 90 degrees and your skin is on fire. I thin kI need a gin and tonic so's I can get myself nice and dehydrated.
Posted by Samantha at 18:02
I have very lucid dreams. The neurologist said this was common amongst broken-headed folk such as myself, but mine are fucking outrageous. I often dream of past events with a variety of alternate outcomes. I use to have a recurring dream that I was in high school with one class to go, but I was 27 years old. I'd wake up freaking out and then get annoyed for thinking it was real. My favorite dreams have cameos of old friends and family. The other people never have faces, but I always know who they are. I've been dreaming of my boyfriend's mother alot lately. She succumbed to cancer two years ago and I never met her, but I feel like I know her. I always wake from these smiling. And confused. On more than one occassion I've had to make a phone call and ask if an event actually occurred the way I'm recalling it. Early REM latency is the one aspect of Narcolepsy I actually enjoy. Who knew a neurological disorder could be so entertaining?
Posted by Samantha at 15:48
I'm hot and I feel like I can't think. I've spent this week cleaning my apartment. To actually accomplish that I need to leave the puter off so I don't lose 5 hours surfing. mike's working overtime tomorrow, so I'll probably take advantage of that and spin a yarn for you's guys while I relax in the splendor of central air conditioning. Until then, it's Friday and the sun is out. Take advantage.
Posted by Samantha at 13:02
Less than one week ago the high was in the lower 60's. Today it was in the mid 90's. I have a 10th degree sunburn because my Nordic anscestry provides me with zero melanin and my profoundly heavy air conditioner is in the bed of my truck down stairs and across the street. Every window in the house is open and it feels like I'm at the DMV. Although, the lightning and thunder are very nice. And as unfortunate as the humidity level feels, it smells great. Nothing like living on the second floor with all the windows open, sitting in your underwear.
Posted by Samantha at 18:24
He's a Kiowa (recon helicopter) crew chief in an AirCavalry Squadron
How are you Samantha? I sincerely hope you are fine. I am currently in Tall Afar. My unit finally settled down here after a whirlwind tour of the country. It looks like we are going to be here for the remainder of the tour. How are things in USAREC? You are still recruiting, correct? Rumor has it that you guys are having a hard time. Sorry.... bad joke. Well, I think it is fair to say that it is definitely not going to get any easier on recruiters any time soon. I am not going to tell you about my experiences or close encounters because at this point it just doesn't matter. But I will tell you this. If I were a cat I would have five lives left as you read this. I hope you find yourself in high spirits and great health. If I have never mentioned it before I truly wish you the best in all you do and I am proud of who you are. I know that you will never settle for less than that which reflects you. I know all this may sound weird but just bare with me. I'm just trying to get some things off my chest....just in case. Okay, enough of that. I have to fly so I'll write to you later -
Posted by Samantha at 10:54
I have a friend, Harry*. Harry and I dated for a few months in 2002, but we realized that we were much better suited as friends and have remained good friends since. He is a down right good human being. Honest, sincere, and very simple.
He's very good with money, but not so much with women. Twice divorced, all he's ever wanted was a wife and child that he could love and take care of. His first wife was a young love, and after a couple years they parted ways amicably. Just wasn't in the cards. Harry joined the Army, flew to Saudi Arabia for 8 months and served his country proudly.
When Harry returned to Puerto Rico, he met Jane. Jane was beautiful, intelligent, and had a young boy who needed a dad. Harry fell in love with both of them as they were exactly what he was looking for, and because he knew his squiggly little epididymides (I checked- that's definitely the plural) had quite a hard time getting the boys to the egg. Harry and Jane dated and married within a few months. At this point Harry had decided to stay in the Army to give his family a better life. In doing this, he re-enlisted to go to Germany, which rocks, because he had always wanted to be stationed there, and now he could share this experience with Jane and baby. Sadly, Jane had other ideas. Jane-baby-daddy was not as absent as Harry was led to believe. In fact, Jane and Papa were in the midst of a custody battle. Jane would have lost custody because she had no job and wasn't a stable provider, but now she was married to a soldier! The day after the judge awarded custody was the last time Harry saw her. It was also the last time Harry saw half his bank account.
Fast-forward 7 years to Alabama, September 2004. Harry, happily teaching at the ammunition school, meets Mary, a nurse from Tennessee. Mary is amazing, Mary is perfect, Mary HAS A 4 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER. Mary is divorced. Harry called me around Christmas to tell me how happy he was and that he was thinking of asking Mary to marry him, as he was going back to Germany in June 2005. I advised Harry that I was not the expert, but I would at least wait until after the holiday to avoid holiday relationship meltdown. I never discouraged him. I told him that I didn't think 3 months was long enough to gauge the next 50 years, but again, I am not Harry. Of course, true to form, he was married cubed by the middle of January. Marital bliss became Utopia in April when harry found out Operation Conception was a resounding success! Could this be it? When I congratulated him, I knew he had done it this time.
To recap, Harry and Mary wed in January. Harry, Mary and daughter were due to fly to Germany mid July. Harry was required to attend a school in Florida from May through the second week of June. While Harry was in Florida, an old friend from Germany happened to be in Miami. They had lunch. When I say that Harry is an upstanding person, I am not exaggerating. Helps old ladies across the street and everything. They had lunch. Anyway, a week after the lunch visit, Mary turns around and accuses Harry of cheating. She also proceeds to tell him that she's going to get an abortion and she signed papers promising her ex-husband that she wouldn't move out of a 100 mile radius until their daughter turns 18. Refer to the previous paragraph to realize how utterly fucked that is. She also wants Harry to allot money to her because she is married to him and he needs to support her.
This is the phone call I received.
Harry's decided to file for divorce and will allot her money if she will keep the baby. He said he's going to try to get custody once the baby is born.
Posted by Samantha at 19:26
I don't want to have an ugly soul, and when I feel anger and hatred, that's what I am. Ugly. And sad. Just like the things that make me feel that way.I find it so hard to accept that the people who spread lies and hatred could possibly believe in their causes. How can you look in the mirror? That's how naive I am. I've never been able to accept that there are bad, rotten people, truly deep down dead inside. How is that possible? It saddens and disgusts me to tears.
Posted by Samantha at 15:35
I try not to use superlatives. It cheapens the meaning of my feelings.
I hate this person .
I don't hate Muslims. I don't hate Fidel Castro. I don't hate the guy who cut me off in traffic.
But this little cocksucker has got me so fucking irritated, I want to send him a letter bomb. We all know i'm a free fucking thinker. I've seen a few other "projects" of his before. Everytime he puts one up he gets verbally pummelled, he submits an apology, disappears and then he pops back up like a fucking weed. Fuck free speech. Cops and soldiers are scum according to him. I'm sure he's be quick to call a cop if someone beat the piss out of him. Fucking piece of shit.
I may know someone who may know something if anyone would want to know anything. Maybe send him a love letter or whisper sweet nothings.
Posted by Samantha at 20:54
Um, yeah, so I got a ticket for urinating in public once. Classy gal that I am, I was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras in '99 and the fascists chardge you to use public bathrooms, and I REALLY had to go. At this point most of lowere Louisiana had seen my luscious breasts anyway, so my modesty was out the door. It doesn't help that I'm a medic often attached to platoons with 30 to 40 guys. So I wobbled my drunk ass into an "alley" and proceeded to take the most relieving piss of the decade. Unfortunately said alley was in fact an entryway to an apartment and an amused police officer was standing behind me when I finished. He almost ticketed me for littering (tissue), but I think he was too amused. He said I was the only girl that night to get caught peeing. I had to pay $65 but it was worth not having it run down my leg. It was also worth the numerous strangers I made out with. And I still refuse to pay to use the bathroom.
Posted by Samantha at 15:07
why bother putting fresh flowers on the sink if the toliet is stained and the bathroom smells like pee
Yuck. We went to D.C. for a doctor appointment yesterday, so that means I got to experience the glorious rest stops on I95 from NJ to lower Maryland. Nasty, nasty, nasty. Worse patrons than Walmart. I'd rather piss on the shoulder than in those potties, but I really don't want another ticket.
Posted by Samantha at 12:13
I moved into my apartment in September. It's a two-family house on a "residential street". I live in an urban area and I love it. There's always salsa and merengue playing, there are lots of kids, and it's accessible to all of the major highways. I took the apartment because it was very cheap, closer to the boyfriend, and I have a dog. The owner, who happens to live in the house next door, is a nice gentleman in his late fifties and my downstairs neighbor is a single woman, also in her fifties. (Of course, I'm now realizing why she lives alone. She's a fucking wretch who has no concept of human interaction.) When I moved in we had a few conversations with them about our lifestyles and it seemed like it would be a dream come fucking true. My dog is wonderful. He's not aggressive at all, but he does enjoy barking. He doesn't bark at night, but during the day with traffic and whatnot, of course. For the past 2 months, the whore has been either leaving me notes taped to my door or telling the owner that he's disturbing her. I leave for work at 7am and I'm home by 6:30pm on average. She is a secretary at a school, so I'm assuming she leaves around 8 and is home around 4. Are you seriously fucking telling me that between 4 and 6 my dog is torturing you? I asked old boy and he said it happens when she's pulling up the driveway. Imagine that. A dog barking at a car in his driveway. So multiply this by 60 days or so. She likes to slam her door in my face also. So I get home from work yesterday and they're just finishing up a conversation. Yippee. He asks me for the hundreth time if I can find somewhere for my dog for a while. NO. I got him from the spca and I'm not putting him anywhere. He's the best dog ever. So then he goes into this whole thing about how they've known each other for a million years and she's been renting from him for ten or so and that she's his priority tenant because I'm not going to be there forever and he made an exception by accepting the dog in the first place and he can't keep getting complaints from her and not do anything. So I asked him why he doesn't see that this is the most ridiculous bullshit ever, and he couldn't answer that question. I either have to find a situation for my dog or hit the skids. I looked in my lease, and there is a part about the terms of the agreement being entirely dependent on his determination about what is a bother and so on. So I've been looking for another arrangement for a few weeks anyway, but nobody wants to rent to you if you have a dog in New Jersey. Or the rents are outrageous. There's an apartment by the boyfriend, but it would be 90 FUCKING MILES! ONE WAY! I don't think I have it in me to do that 5 days a week. I'd be traveling through New York City every day to and from work. I'm not giving up my dog. He was at the shelter for 2 years before I got there. This blows.
Posted by Samantha at 09:38
I was going to write insightful ponderings about this woman I see at the train station every morning, but my neighbor is such a whore cocksucking son of a mother fuck that I can't think straight. I'm moving as soon as possible. What a bitch. I wish my dog would bite her, but I don't want my dog to touch her because she's an awful human being.
Posted by Samantha at 20:19
I don't claim to lean lef tor right, politically speaking. I'm not a believer in labels when it comes to these things, so I do make a solid effort to look both ways. Having said that, I really don't know what to make of The Huffington Post . I'm all about free speech, but I've always agreed with the opinion that having a microphone in front of your face as a result of celebrity does not automatically entitle you to presenting the convoluted ramblings that escape your embattled psyche to the rest of the world as expert thought. Leave that to us, please. --Stepping off soap box-- Um, so yeah, as I was saying, my personal experience with famous people has helped me to the conclusion that 90% have no concept of the life of the common human. So where, pray tell, do you, Mr/Ms. famous for whatever reason, get the notion that I can relate to anything you say or do? I'm pretty sure that it's been many moons since you did a few loads of laundry at the laundromat, or paid a cell phone bill yourself, or got into an arguement with the evil wretch that hates your dog. It's just another fine example of the better-offs trying to feel "common" by researching trends and trying to "be down". Go shit in your hat.
Posted by Samantha at 11:24
Monmouth Message News Brief- Chaplain Dies in Kuwait
I was tasked to be a part of the rifle team to honor the chaplain with three volleys of 7 and Taps. I've never been tasked with this before because it's normally left to males- a tradition that I hold no issue with, as it's always been an infantry type event. Anyway, I was honored and the eight of us practiced at length for the past two days to sound and look good.
I spend a lot of time here at my desk in my bedroom and at work contemplating current events and constructively criticizing our silly government, but taking part in these events reminds me of the love affair I had with the Army until recently. There's so much pride and tradition, and there are many of us who try to hold onto the romance way passed the deadline. If I could participate in funeral honors, color guards and flag details all the time I'd probably still be as naive about the real deal as I was 4 years ago. In the past two weeks 2 Sergeants Major have retired and our company had a change of command, so I've done a lot of standing still and handing bouquets to wives. I always enjoy the songs and honors. I'm a nostalgic old fart. I think I might be my grandpa reincarnated sometimes.
I'm having a very difficult time dedicating am emtry to the past ten years. It's hard to face demons, as well as the fact that I demand total candor in my blog unless it's intentional and there are certain parts of the story that don't coincide with "Sam" of now. I'm such a fucking coward.
It's sad. It reminds me of running into an old boyfriend and trying to spark the flame and realizing that you're holding onto a ghost
Posted by Samantha at 20:41
bliss, however long it lasts, can never be more than a small bitty thing you put in some corner and take out and roll around in your hand every so often to smile at, like a shiny pebble. It's untarnished and perfect, so there's no point in ruining it with mediocrity and insecurities. the inconceivable opportunities that create smiles and ecstasy are puffball dandelions that you still pick out of the grass at a backyard party and stop, if only for a split second, and smile, maybe sigh. you go through your day-to-day, up and down up and down. And it's deserved, and it's real and lasting, and it isn't stagnant or dreary and you're happy with the complexities and drama because it's like an onion and that's also good. so your little pebble exists within the churning ocean waves and the water and the salt and the sun are your blanket and when the light hits just right, like it always does, that seemingly insignificant moment shines bright for that eternal split second, because that's what it was there for the whole time, and there is nothing that can ever be wrong with that.
Posted by Samantha at 13:52
I need to sit and focus and tell you about my decade of combat boots. I said I would for the beef bringers . I always wanted to lay it all out there and put it nice piles anyway, but linear thought is not my forte, mes amis. I definitely will do it. Maybe tomorrow. How shitty is the fucking weather today?! I walk 6 blocks to the train from my palace and about 2 miles to my job from the train, and it managed to drizzle the whole fucking time. Joy. I want to update my list o' blogs I'm digging as well. It'll happen.
Posted by Samantha at 18:41
Very well, where should I begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims, like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. A sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.
My childhood was typical.
Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. If I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds.
Pretty standard, really.
Posted by Samantha at 19:33
The more blogs I read, the more I want to read. Other than those closest to my heart in real life, there have never been too many people i've related to. I want to thank anyone I've ever commented to on their blog for making me feel less alone in my random neurotic ramblings. Anti (John?) , the detox (Angelina?) , tanky, paxgitmo, true, little spanish eddie (James?) , and those are just from today. I'll html it later, but more importantly, now, here's to you.
Posted by Samantha at 21:25
The setting sun reminds me of how much it needs the grass to validate itself. I notice the reds above the rest as the sunlight dips behind the clouds and also the horizon. I had to keep looking so of course I found green, but the blues soften in dusk, as blues tend to. The water reflects silver from the sky and clouds that play against the window I look through, quite literally. I changed into myself on the way home like I used to on the Bx 8 when I didn't want roll a blunt in my uniform after school. I fit in and stand out. Notice me but not really. Sense my mystery but not my nature. I've always enjoyed the train ride home.
Posted by Samantha at 20:10
I love music. Good music doesn't pull you to it, good music comes into you, like it was always there, a track in your life's movie. When I left for a desert vacation a lifetime ago, I needed to bring my music with me, so I burned 25 cd's of my "favorite" songs from a collection of about 700 cd's at the time. A good song stops time.
Posted by Samantha at 20:23
So I'm trying not to smirk, but it's nice to win the war of insanity, let me tell you. I'm in a bit of a holding pattern, but that's ok. I will bear witness, trust me. A few more months of mediocrity and then prepare for the deluge. Or perhaps not quite so spectacular. Either way, dawn awaits.
Posted by Samantha at 22:05
I had a banging sandwich today. Elsie's Subs, 74 Monmouth Street, Red Bank, NJ 07701. A "hot shot". Salami, pepperoni, cappicola, provolone, lettuce, tomato, onion, salt, pepper, hot peppers, oil and vinegar on a hero. That was the highlight of my day. I am a wild son of a bitch.
Posted by Samantha at 21:58
I've observed in the later part of my three decades here, that I am fortunate to have experienced grief. Damn skippy.
Grief depression ecstasy indifference desolation bliss fury
The pivot points of my life are based on emotional breakthroughs. I lost one of my very best friends and went on a three year bender. I fell madly in love and temporarily lost my mind. I gave up control finally and quieted my mind. I often joke that people who don't experience loss, don't have conflicts, those are the ones in the clock tower with the pump-action. In that proud ignorance I held myself to an unrealistic and false level of enlightenment. I live at a heightened level of stress, praising myself for being so witty and cynical, so well informed, and all the while I haven't the slightest clue of true strife. Living every day like it's me against the idiots and I'm holding it all together and then I hit a speedbump. Now I have REAL LIFE RIGHT HERE IN MY FUCKING FACE. It's going to be alright, but I'm such an overreactor. I'm torturing Mike with so many irrational thoughts and anxiety, I'm annoying myself. I hate not being the boss of me.
On the hand, maybe I just need to refocus my lens. Hello world.
Posted by Samantha at 18:59
I find myself identifying with songs in ways that don't coincide with the lyrics. U2 "Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own" is that song for me right now. I was a long time fan and then it faded when the political undertones became less subtle, but this song is just perfectly haunting and melancholy for my mood.
I'm going through a thing right now. I've been in the Army, active duty, since November 9, 1996. I was in the Reserve before that from November 22, 1994. I was 17. I went from Catholic School in the Bronx to renting my own apartment, married in Hinesville, Georgia in less than 2 years. I've been to a few handfuls of countries. Fucked, drank, and sang all over the world.
I've always been unique. Always a little drowsy. I've fallen asleep walking, talking, eating, driving, and of course, fucking. I have extremely vivid dreams. I lurch awake sometimes, confused. I have to ask my sister if we had a particular conversation because I'd swear it happened.
I went to the doctor. I've put on a bit of weight this year. I had a little depressed period. I thought some blood work would tell me what was awry.
"You should get a sleep study to see if you have apnea."
"Practice better sleep hygiene." "Stop being so lazy." "Drink more coffee. "
"Go get a sleep study and a slep latency test."
Holy fuck you have narcolepsy.
"OK, here's what we're gonna do. You can't drive for at least the next month because now we know you might nod off and here's some medication that makes you feel like you want to puke all day. Have fun. And, oh by the way, you can't stay in the military because alertness is mildly important."
The neat thing, however, is the concept of a fresh start. I have to try to remember what I wanted to do/ be 10 years ago.
Of course the boyfriend has been exceptional. He's a miracle. Outstanding in the sack as well. Ridiculous, isn't it?
Posted by Samantha at 22:02
This day is new. I'm the same as I was yesterday, and yet different because now I'm defined by a label. My doctor (one of the few wonderful military doctors) validated my instincts. I've always had waking issues, as opposed to sleeping issues. I got to stay at a great hospital a few weeks ago and now I am narcoleptic.
Holy shit right?
Is, Hun, am I your first? Please say yes. :)
The timing was fucking impeccable. I'm not allowed to drive (although I am), and I'm awaiting the verdict on my employment status. They'll take care of me, so I'm not too worried, however my malicious, devil's harem of a command couldn't give a shit, the fuckers.
I'm so very melodramatic. However, the boyfriend- amazing. Absogoddamlutely afuckingmazing. Now all I have to worry about is paying my bills. Good times.
Posted by Samantha at 23:52
I was reading the New York Postthis afternoon and this was brought to my attention in the style section. I don't even know how to explain the rash of giggling that began. Haute indeed.
Also, I try to eat with health in mind so I frequent s few local organic groceries. I've noticed an alarming trend of the direct relation of "trendy macrobiotic/vegan/ raw foodist" to the increasing girth of their vehicle. I thought all the wackadoo greenies were supposed to be environmentally conscious as well. I guess you can maintain your social status only if you ride in an BMW X5 at the same time. I'm dabbling in the veg world myself but I'm not ridding myself of leather shoes anytime soon. Call me a heathen.
Posted by Samantha at 17:38
I have no fewer than three drafts waiting to be published and I've yet to click that little button because my job has me so damn frazzled I feel like i can barely complete a sentence. Hmm.., do you guys know this amusing asshole ? He's a jerkoff, but pretty funny at times.
OMFG, am I the only Food Network crack head? Love it, love it, love it.
Jackie, thank you for the "post something" kick in the rear. Although this isn't my a game by any stretch. My evil, devil's whore of a supervisor is at some circle jerk excuse for a training conference this weekend, so I'll most likely not have a nervous breakdown Saturday and actually set up a decent post.
Have you ever been openly criticized before?- in public by a superior who thought he was doing you a service? Fucking smug, self righteous, faux enlightened cock sucker. I know I'm hot-headed, you asshole. And defensive. Who the hell wants to hear about their tendency to cut people off in front of the people you cut off?
I'm smarter, so therefore I have talking priority. Trust me, it'll be a benefit to all of us.
Nah, just fucking around.
I am smarter than the cock sucker in charge, thank god.
Posted by Samantha at 00:08
For anyone who has lived in San Antonio, there is a great grocery store chain by the name of HEB. Talk about a food experience. There's a magnificent wine/liquor selection, all kinds of fresh prepared dishes, and it's all clean and shiny, very much unlike New Jersey. I lived in San Antonio for about 5 months in 2003, and visiting this utopia was one of my favorite after-class activities. That and going to Starbucks at 8 am on Sundays in my pajamas.
Life was very simple. Press my uniform, show up to formation on time, study while half asleep, and drink as much as I impossibly could hold down.
This was all pre-awesomest boyfriend and super-dog, but damn it was easy. I wish I had savored it a little more, took a few more pictures. I don't want to be "there" again- in the mindset , that is. It was definitely a transition time for me emotionally. It was a memorable experience for sure. I'd have my first gin-tonic on my 26th birthday on the Riverwalk, float down the Guadalupe River in a drunken fog, witness a man fall two stories and mostly walk away(?). I wouldn't trade that shit for anything.
Posted by Samantha at 19:22
Hello there. Been sooooo busy with hating work, haven't felt very expressive. However, I have made some fascinating observations. There is a movie theater in my 'hood. I live in an "urban area" if you will. Said movie theater is a multiplex, the Amboy Multiplex Cinemas, to be exact. I drive by it twice a day, on my way to and from the fantasy that is my job. I've noticed on numerous occasions that they have definitely made an error in the selection of the "guy who spells the shit out" on the billboard. The most recent submission was "Hicth". Nice. I need photographic proof.
Posted by Samantha at 11:57
Hello there, bloggety blogsters. I'm back from the pool of congestion I was drowning in but a few painfully long days ago. Hating my job more than ever, of course. I hate sales, all the guys I work with are pompous jackasses. I didn't know one person could blow quite so much smoke up his own ass. Oh my fucking god.I think my fake enthusiasm was convincing. Pthtbb.
--oh yeah, btw, Hitler and I are not "dawgs" or anything, frightningly insane people fascinate me and I've always wanted to meet one.
Posted by Samantha at 22:15
So El Poocho and Sammi the wunder-kat are getting along better by the day, but I tihnk we may have had a set back this evening. Sammi's very affectionate, as is Bear, so when they were rubbing heads I said "aww". I decided to put Sammi on the floor to see what would happen. I should have known better. It was horrifying. Bear pinned her to the floor lovingly and engaged himself in his feline gynecologic studies. I had to lift him off to alleviate the kitty crying. Oddly enough he wasn't roughhousing like he usually does. I was witness to interspecies pet porn. Now he's asleep. Pervert.
Posted by Samantha at 23:27
What is the most re-goddamn-diculous thing you've done or said for "love"? I was thinking about this the other day. I've been the biggest human doormat known to the civilized world because I thought if I proved my love than it would be reciprocated.
5. Didn't cut my hair for 3 years becuase he liked it that way.
4. Sold his dime bags from my locker because my school had an honor code and didn't search.
3. I flew to Phoenix- on my dime. Got closure out of it and Phoenix is pretty awesome.
2. I almost moved to Japan for Phoenix guy.
1. I paid for a trip for two to New Orleans and the angel cheated on me while we were there.
Here's your lesson for the day:
Don't cry over married guys. He's not going to pick you. And if he was, he would have already.
... The best part of my reflection session was that I realized that I haven't had to be anything but myself since I met Mike. It's the greatest feeling in the world.
Posted by Samantha at 19:33
I decided to clean the top of my cupboards this evening. Sounds like a thrill a minute, you say? That's what I do to feel productive after a day at the eighth ring of hell (work). A word to the wise- if you rent an apartment and enjoy putting things on top of your cupboards/ kitchen cabinets, check the cleanliness situation first. Fucking eww. Whoever lived here before me and my menagerie must have cooked with lard every night and never ventilated. I had to scrub with a scotch pad and degreaser. And then the cat decided that was the best time to walk through it, but I think she regretted that when I pushed her into the sink. If I ever decide to install the software for my kick-ass digital camera I may post picutres of the nastiness.
Posted by Samantha at 23:01
Monty Python, anyone?
I fucking hate my job.
I want to tell you a story that has nothing to do with either of the first 2 lines.
I was reading Harley Writer's blog a moment ago and it reminded me of a glaring aspect of Samantha. I am reaeaeaeaelllllyyyy narcoleptic. Not funny, Deuce Bigelow bowling bullshit, rather swerving across the New Jersey Turnpike, "Holy Fuck" narcoleptic. I haven't been
" "diagnosed" " (rock quotes-Dane Cook), but believe me scouts, I'm fucking narcoleptic.
10. Sitting at a red light with both feet on the brake
9. Sitting at said red light and rear-ending an ugly Hummer
8. During mediocre sex a long time ago
7. On the listening end of a conversation
6. Standing up during a class
5. On the speaking end of a conversation
4. While eating
3. During many movies
2. Leaning against a wall
And the number 1 is
Crossing a street.
So I try to sleep according to my body's needs, but that varies from 3 to 10 hours any given night. Good times. Did you know Methylphenidate (Ritalin!) is a treatment for freaks who fall asleep? Did you also know it turns you into Lizzy Borden? None of that shit, thank you very much. One fucking genius physician told me to "drink more coffee". No fuckin-shit chief. I can tell you a dozen different locations in the Tri-State Area where I've slept in my car. I've had at least three people knock on my window and proceed to tell me they had wonderd if I was dead. Ah the eternal optimist. "Tap on the window. Look at her mouth hanging open. I think she's been murdered." Apparently, shithead, you didn't see the drool.
Posted by Samantha at 22:44
Posted by Samantha at 22:05
What do you think of my colors? The 70's shag rug theme wasn't quite my stee-lo, know what I'm sayin', dog?
Pretty muted blues and grays, calm and peaceful, much like myself...
...maybe not so much.
I'm a bit of an over thinker. My extraordinarily intelligent father says I'm clumsy because I'm always thinking two steps ahead of my feet, and I think that can be applied to my entire life. I'm very frenetic, overcritical of myself and others, and I'm always talking. It's really quite a phenomenon. If I wasn't so damn vivacious and sparkley, it would be irritating.
Posted by Samantha at 21:07
What is "How Samantha feels when she wakes up for work, Alex"?
I have 282 days left until I can breathe slightly easier. I am going to take an oathe of not signing contractual employment agreements unless it's a really really good deal. Argh.
Posted by Samantha at 19:02
I wanted to make a post about resolutions, but that's pretty dumb. I want to make a few, but I know there's absolutely no point.
"Don't take criticism so personally."
--Well I know that's one's down the tubes. If you know me beyond webspace, you'd already know I'm an overemotional jackass when I get upset.
"Lose x-amount pounds."
--Please. If it's going to happen, it will, end of story.
When I think of more, I'll be back. Off to the coal mines.
Posted by Samantha at 05:47