Stupid fucking monthly pre-arrival of hormonal rage - I hate you.
3 a.m. and I'm all alone
Try to call but I doubt you're home
Not much has changed here on my end
Sure would be good to see you again
I know we had our fights
Nothing since has felt that right
Lived my life from day to day
If I don't think too much everything is okay
I miss holding your hand, miss going on walks
Miss being your man
I miss watching you sleep,
Guess I just miss you.. with me
I still drive that same ol' car
Still work at that run down bar
Still hang out with that same group of guys
And on Saturday nights, still go to that dive
Been two months since I had a drink
Damn good for me, don't you think
Oh, its been a year now since you've gone
Oh I've tried my best, I cant move on
Cause' I miss holding your hand.
Miss going on walks, miss being your man
I miss watching you sleep
Guess I just miss you with me
If you give me a second chance
I'll never let you go
Swallowed all my pride and now I gotta let you know
Cause' I miss holding your hand.
Miss going on walks, miss being your man
I miss watching you sleep
Guess I just miss you with me
~~Miss You, Randy Rogers
Jeezohpete - I hate feeling this way. Stupid, idiotic, unreasonable emotions. In the name of Midol, I command thee to leave my body.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Stupid fucking monthly pre-arrival of hormonal rage - I hate you.
Posted by Kimberly at 11:52 AM
Monday, September 28, 2009
From time to time I have severe bouts and equal parts of sadness and loneliness. Mostly I chalk it up to the arrival of my "monthly friend" - sorry fellas, but it is a huge part of many women's life. Self medicating (vodka) usually worsens symptoms so this "little happy" appeared in my email in-box today:
Always remember: You are beautiful. You have a wonderful personality that draws people to you even if it is the first time meeting you. You have an energy that makes people feel good about themselves. You are a good writer. You are intelligent and can tackle any project thrown your way. You are loyal. Your employer values you. You are a great homemaker. You have talents that many people only wish they had. You are clean...and that's next to Godliness:) You are forgiving. You are a good daughter, friend, employee and family member. You love dogs and that automatically makes you a good person even if you had nothing else going for you. You are good with kids. You are good at house sitting.
You are good at tons of other things, but my hand is getting tired and I have to work.
Ahhh...it is the little things.
Posted by Kimberly at 9:21 PM
Sunday, September 27, 2009
In a society where we're told the sky's the limit & everything is attainable - because everyone can live the American Dream even though it brings about overinflated expectations -- I give you most everything I want:
A four/three day work week (four on & three off).
A never ending pantry of Hunts Chocolate Pudding Snack Packs.
Dogs that never get sick or die.
Sundays under the covers.
A do-over for my junior year of high school.
A BMW 3-series.
Champagne & chocolate for breakfast.
A man who loves me.
Perfect red lips.
A Hermes Birkin bag.
An engagement ring that trumps any other.
Expensive, 3 hour dinners every week.
To trust everyone.
To never be let down by a man again.
Contention with my past.
A closer walk with God.
To be told I am beautiful & believe it.
A nose job.
To be fought for.
To never be left behind.
A man who I love.
Flowers for no reason.
To find hidden love notes - every day.
& to eat all of those chocolate pudding snacks and never gain an ounce.
Posted by Kimberly at 8:09 AM
Friday, September 25, 2009
Last night before drifting off to dream my fingers stopped changing the channels & it just happened to land on TLC and this was on. Call me selfish or even narrow minded but enough is enough. For one, how can someone support 18 kids? For two, who would want too? A co-worker of mine has four kids and their tax return is around $10,000 annually. Doing simple math you would figure these 18 crumb snatchers would net a return of $40,000; easily an annual salary for anyone. I understand we live in a free country and can breed as we please. I also understand biblical scripture encouraging us all to be to "fruitful and multiply" and no I am not mocking or being blashpemous of the Holy Bible. I suppose my orchard is barren or either has really long winters because I have chosen not to be fruitful up to this point. Can you imagine giving birth to 18 children? It almost makes me gag with repulsion. Aren't we over populated now? Can't they adopt children that nobody else wants? Each Duggar child/teen/tween has their own chore list, basically, the parents - Jim Bob & Stephanie - have an entire staff of worker bees to meet their every need. Have you ever noticed that families with many children are either very religious oriented, poor or live in trailers? What is the connection here?
Andrew Dice Clay - remember him? Famous for making sweet little nursery rhymes into something a little more sinister:
There was an old lady
Who lived in a shoe
She had so many kids
Her uterus fell out
Maybe it is the Duggars calling to be an extra value meal size family and minister to all in need - For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. ~~ Matthew 18:20
To each their own and in the Duggars case its 18 and counting and in mine it has to be suppression of raging hormones.
Posted by Kimberly at 8:17 AM
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
In my quest for the perfect body also known as the one I had in high school I sought advice from a fellow wordsmith. The advice given was this:
Stop stuffing your face. Cut your calorie intake to almost nothing.
Food is the enemy just look at what it has done to you.
Set a new goal every 3 days.
"Do something" for two hours every day. Note: doing something is meant to be done at the gym.
Not harsh, to the point and there was no pain in hearing said advice. So many others will tell you that its not healthy to, in short, not eat. Half times two = eat half as much and exercise twice as much than usual.
Then I asked to be motivated. The motivation given was this:
"I'd never fuck a fat chick".
Pretty harsh, to the point and I felt a sting. I thought "Disect the words and handle this". Any food item that was in my mouth, in my hand, in my desk drawer or in my pocket went directly to the bottom of the garbage can. Sure some of you ladies are saying "what a prick" or "men are filled with such douche baggery" maybe so but the person was honest at best. Some of you men say you like meatier gals and that any "pooty-poo" is good "pooty-poo" pudgy or not. I want no thoughts while I am underneath, on top of or having someone directly behind me thinking other than how good I feel, how much they love me or how awesome my boobs look. I want nothing to do with fat content entering anyone's mind when I'm circling the pleasure zone.
I find myself couple watching more than ever these days. The diversity of the human species is amazing: dumpy, perfect posture, short, tall, fat, skinny, long hair, red hair, no hair, buck teeth, no teeth, big boobs, fake boobs, Asian, Italian, trailer trash, freckled, dimpled, fair, dark, toned and tanned. In my observance I find it a rarity to behold a chubby man with an "above average" woman but see really chubby women with "above average" men. I define above average as - nice hair/good hair, handsome/attractive, not overweight, in shape, well dressed, well spoken. Why the role reversal here? Especially during the days of arm candy and trophy wives? Typically a woman says "as long as he treats me good, nothing else matters". I work with ALOT of men so I see and hear daily the barrage of cat calls, filthy gestures made with their manly members and the seductive lure of stepping into the supply closet for a little taboo favor swapping which says to me "I have fatty at home but will slap the ass of the hottie at work"...no harm, no foul, right?
I would never say about a man "I'd like to hit that or smoke that pole" unless the smoking hit involved Nikki Sixx (Heff, not one word). Men and women are wired so differently with so much competition. Ugh, let me put my game face on.
Posted by Kimberly at 11:06 AM
Monday, September 21, 2009
Posted by Kimberly at 6:00 AM
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Why can't you switch the blade on the guy in shades?
I suck at making coffee.
Drinking hot coffee without adding sugar makes me feel like a grown-up.
During the years of 1988 - 1991 I wore only GUESS jeans and GUESS t-shirts. My parents were seperated & my dad never paid child support. My mother brought home in pay from her job $164 a week. The price of a pair of GUESS jeans at that time were $50 and the t-shirts were $20. I have no idea of how she did it but my shit looked good. Thanks mom for not letting me be the odd kid out.
Last night at dinner I observed an older couple - late 40's early 50's. Man had a dirty biker moustache, lots of hair combed directly back but was frizzy, tanned, lots of jewelry including pinky rings. Woman had long bleach blonde hair pulled into a high pony tail with bad bangs, she also wore lots of jewelry - a ring on every finger including her thumbs. She had a huge rack & not the type you want to motorboat. Seriously, their images mirrored each other. They both ate like they had just gotten out of prison. Elbows on the table & kethcup on their steak. As I watched them I wondered if I would fall victim of not letting go of a way I looked at a certain age?
Posted by Kimberly at 8:56 AM
Friday, September 18, 2009
Posted by Kimberly at 9:16 AM
Thursday, September 17, 2009
That's right - a trucker & his pet monkey - BJ McKay and his best friend Bear.
My dad is a trucker (I know, how did I come to have so much proper etiquette & grace sans the potty mouth of course? All I can say is miracles do happen.) I use to ride along with my dad when he would make short "runs" and there was always some racket coming from the CB radio. One of my favorite terms used was Kojak with a Kodak.
"Come on back Go Yonder".
"Better back that bucket of bolts down. There is a Kojak with a Kodak on the overpass". Don't go feeding the bears".
Posted by Kimberly at 9:39 AM
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
What exactly is it that I want & what am I willing to pay to get it?
Posted by Kimberly at 8:15 PM
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
On a daily basis I probably take 30-50 phone calls. We do things the "old school" way - we actually write down messages & deliver them to the appropriate party. While answering the phone, taking and delivering messages is part of my job & I should be glad to have one I still so get so rattled and unnerved when people leave messages that begin or end like this:
"Good Morning Happy Thrills Condom Farm"
"I am looking for Hans Trojan"
"Who is calling"
"Gooey Panties with the Today Sponge"
"Was he expecting your call"
"One moment please"
"I'm sorry Mr. Trojan is not available. May I take your #"
"Yes, I am leaving for Pigsknuckle, Arkansas for the National Spermicidal Conference, so I will have to leave my WORK cell phone # 251-555-5555. I will be on the road from 9-5 if he can't reach me via my WORK cell, he can call my PERSONAL cell and that # is 251-444-4444. If he can't reach me on either of those, here is my work VM, he can try me there. I check those messages daily OR you can just give him a message for me"
Reason for rant: Who gives a shit whether it is your cell phone #, home # or your office # - I/We/The entire world doesn't need the details of what number you are giving and your office is in the same city as mine mine, I don't need you to rattle off the fucking area code. Please don't take away unecessary seconds of my life that I will never get back. If he wasn't expecting your call or doesn't recongize your name chances are you'll never get a return call so we do not need the 411 of who, what, when or why.
Thanks for calling.
Posted by Kimberly at 2:34 PM
I know what you all are thinking - he has no dimples. You are correct but look at that crooked smile, the white hat, those hard working hands - I've been known to make concessions from time to time for a cowboy.
So when the world won't turn the way you wish it would,
And the dreams don't come alive as often as they should,
Remember that there's someone there whose heart is always true,
I'll always be the man in love with you.
The Man In Love With You ~~ George Strait
Probably wasn't written for me but a girl can dream.
Posted by Kimberly at 6:15 AM
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I feel confident I will die alone.
This was a new secret posted on Post Secret today & it has saddened me to no end:
I can't believe I'm a blawger. Buh-lawger.
Sometimes I go more than two days without calling my mom. When this happens I feel sorry for her because I am her only child.
I wonder if Dolly Parton is as genuine a person, positive and perky as she seems to be and if she looks as good outta her clothes as she does in them.
When I see people standing at an intersection asking for handouts, I never make eye contact. After I drive away I wonder if a dollar from me would have been the one that saved them. In all reality probably not but I still wonder.
Posted by Kimberly at 6:19 PM
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Just in case you don't know who these two outlaws are - Bo & Luke Duke is their name. Bo was always the front runner in terms of the "hottie" but since I have a penchant for the lesser known - I'd test Luke's water first.
Posted by Kimberly at 10:45 AM
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Some time ago I kicked at the air about this.
Here is a follow up to it:
Two weeks ago myself, my mother, my granddaddy & grandmother were eating lunch. A good friend of mine appears and says "Are y'all having a family party without me?". I said "where did you come from?". Friend says "I've been here the entire time. I saw you when you came in." I said "well, I didn't even see you." My grandmother says "It was probably because you were too busy feeding your face". Lucky for me my friend deflected the negativity before the Goodyear blimp comments started and says to my grandmother "that is what I came here for & I enjoyed every bite."
Before these two instances another "set" of grandparents once told me "You should wear more make-up. We just want you to be pretty and thin".
Some people might wonder what triggered their poor eating habits and poor body image issues - I've never had to wonder.
Posted by Kimberly at 1:33 PM
Monday, September 7, 2009
Posted by Kimberly at 7:18 AM
Thursday, September 3, 2009
I have a slight headache not due to over an indulgence of adult beverages. I had a hot dog for last night's dinner.
There comes a time in everyone's life - some may call it a crossroad, a turning point, an awakening, a brush with death - when important and timely decisions have to be made. Have to be, not should be. Those decisions include but are not limited to weight loss, putting down the bottle, giving up the blue eye shadow, picking up slack in your relationships, career changes and so on. Basically anything that is slowing killing the branches of your tree and you have to cut off the bad ones before it rots the entire thing. (I've always thought ROT was a raunchy word). So comes the question "when is enough, enough?". What has propelled you to make the leap, the one thing that freed your feet from the bucket of cement? Was it an ultimatium? Too many fingers pointed in your face? Bad news from the doctor? The fact that you had to dip yourself into oil and jump off of your bed into your pants just to get them on?
What kept you in the same place never moving forward and just steeping in misery and only having thoughts of what could be? Not knowing what waited beyond the door you wanted to walk out? Tied to tightly to the bedpost?
“I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor” ~~ Oliver Wendell Holmes
Posted by Kimberly at 8:35 AM
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
She says she hates to sleep alone, but she'll do it to night
She wants to grab her telephone, but she knows it ain't right
So if he won't call, she'll survive, and if he don't care, she'll get by
Climb into bed, bury her head, and cry
From the beginning he was all anyone could have been
They were delirious with love; they were certain to win
Now he's breaking plans more and more, and he's leaving notes on her door
Took a trip out of town, couldn't turn this one down;
He said, "I guess I should have told you before."
She says she feels like she's addicted to a real bad thing,
Always sitting, waiting, wondering if the phone will ring,
She knows she bounces like a yo-yo when he pulls her string,
It hurts to feel like such a fool.
She wants to tell him not to call or come a round again,
He doesn't need her now at all the way that she needs him.
She's on the edge about to fall from leaning out and in,
And she don't know which way to move.
She wants to be fair; she couldn't say he was ever unkind,
But if she could bear to walk away, she thinks he wouldn't mind
'Cause he just keeps himself so apart and there's no one else in her heart,
So she's taking a dive from an emotional high and coming down hard.
She's determined to try, but she'll still give in when he gives her a call.
She'll ask herself why, but in the end it won't matter at all.
Sure, she could sit at home, stay inside and sleep alone with her pride
And as she walks out that door, she feels as weak as before with nothing to hide.
Men, guys, dudes even dirty rocker boys (except the ones who read my blog, of course) are all the same. Selfish, prickish by nature, lying always thinking of themselves and not the other, not caring who they hurt or at what cost.
It might just be the time to "taste the rainbow".
Posted by Kimberly at 8:29 AM
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Because I am wordless and have nothing in my life worthwhile to blog about, I figured I'd do a post do-over. So for you reading pleasure I chose a post from
one day and one year ago (366 days)...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Not too long ago I wrote a short essay on my choice of not having kids. This morning everything I wrote in that short essay came to fruition. As I was sitting in a restaurant ordering breakfast a couple next to me had not one, two or three kids but four. There should be some type of cap of the amount of children one should have especially if they choose to make them "door steps". The smallest child probably 3 years old, cotton top blonde, wore a white t-shirt with a red stain down the front and shoeless was sitting in between mom and dad. As their breakfast order arrived, the child stood up in his seat and exclaimed "pancake!". Then he proceeded to sit on the table while mom just watched. He also threw a fork to the other side of the restaurant. The he attempted to throw the salt shaker - the older sister took the shaker before he could make the double play. Mom nor dad did not get up and retrieve the fork or make an apology to the couple sitting at the table it landed under. The kid continued to shriek as he ate his pancake. The other smallest child was crying because his pancake didn't look right...
Behind me, sat another small child in a high chair. A two year old boy with a horrific "bowl" haircut, that in my opinion just screams "brat" in a overall "onesy" with his name, Ben, embroidered on the front. This particular child was making sounds like the mermaid, Madison, from the movie Splash as she tried to say her name in her native language, "eeeyyyyeeeeeeeek, eeeyyyeeeeeeeek". Maybe the windows didn't shatter but my eardrums burst. An older child at the table was instructed to take Ben outside because he needed to walk (like he was a puppy or something). So she does and in doing so she takes Ben from chair and he cries and flails around in her arms because he wants to be let down. Then outside, stands right in front of the window where I am sitting, holding Ben so he can waive at his mother. Ben's overalls should have read - Damien.
Need I say more?
Posted by Kimberly at 7:37 AM