shit or get off the pot

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.

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.

Go Yankees.

Oh my god, it's the fucking Apocalypse.

The fabric of existence is ripping. I can hear it.

For fuck's sake.

I couldn't sign the damn eval anyway. There were administrative errors so I have to wait until tomorrow.

i make myself sad

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.

healthy as a 40 year old man who drinks

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.

Sorry for having absentee blogger syndrome. The boyfriend had shoulder surgery this week and I've been tending to him. Be back in a few.

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.

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?

chronicles from the 95th interstate

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.

Military word of the day

Jacques Le Moyne, Plate XIX

"Blue Bark"

(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.

So you want that nose medium, or medium-well?

Hi. I'm a moron. Ocean and sand make sun more intense. And now you know.

My two cents, for what it's worth

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.

New Orleans

One of my favorite places in the whole world. Still is. My thoughts are with those people suffering right now. That's all I want to say.

my favorite

truth in advertising

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.

very life-dense

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.

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.

just a reminder that we're always the center of our own universe

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.