The Odd Wife

Saturday, April 30, 2005

The Funeral

Today is the funeral for my grandfather. It's going to be a hard day.

My eclectic family will be in attendance in all their confrontational glory. And I woke up looking like the corpse - face pale, eyes swollen and ringed in dark circles, lips white, hair knotted...this infection/abcess is sure a lot of fun! Even better, I have the sort of relatives who will whisper behind my back things like "She looks like she's been drinking..."

I'm one hot shower later, posting this with wet hair and wearing a towel. I guess it's time to move on.

I ventured into the world last night to find something to wear to the funeral. We went to Marshalls and TJ Maxx, two discount clothing outlets. Let me once again reaffirm my belief in these places.

Sure, they're messy and have mile long lines and piss-poor customer service. But I score big everytime I go. Last night I walked out with a seriously sexy wrap dress that exposes major cleavage, two crushed silk floral flirty skirts that should have been over $300 each and sold for $11.99 each. EH scored a designer label dress shirt, a pair of slacks that fit as if they were tailored for him and a tie by his favorite store (Tommy Bahama).

It's not just about money...even though we're always broke. For me, it's the thrill of the treasure hunt. It's patiently pawing through miles of racks of clothes strewn sloppily on an overstuffed rack to find that one special item. Sometimes it's a two piece DKNY suit that I find in just my size for 5% of the regulare retail price. Sometimes it's the sweet chocolate Ferragamo pumps I pick up for $10 or the Kate Spade handbag I dig out for $5. I love the hunt.

Guess I better go make an effort. I feel like shit and I am dreading the day. But I need to say goodbye to Grampa. I loved him very much.

Tomorrow he would have been 94. Today, we put him in the ground beside his wife.

Posted by Red :: 10:30 AM :: |

Friday, April 29, 2005

Blog-a-thon Question #2 from Ed

2. How did you get into Paganism?

This doesn't bother me to be asked, Ed, so no worries! In fact, you might be sorry you asked.

I was raised in a very New Age way. My mother had issues with organized religion (and later so did I for my own reasons)and she taught me more about choices and natural laws and forces of nature. I was always confused about my spiritual path and I think Mom was too. We never had a name or definition for it. We didn't understand it ourselves. I looked into different religions for answers and found I objected to them all. I began to think I was atheist, but I still had some sense that there was a higher power. EH was raised in a very Christian family and I tried to commit to Christianity for him. I went through bible study and found myself disagreeing with almost everything. I was apalled. I was pissed off the day I sat through a sermon holding a friend's hand while the pastor preached about how an adulterous husband made a sinner of his wife too (her husband had just left her.) Our daugher was christened and for me, that was the final straw. The pastor held my darling baby girl up in front of the congregation and spoke of how she was born in sin and would be washed clean. My perfect, angelic child? How dare he. My mother almost walked out of the church.

I stopped going.

I had a few instinctive tendencies which made me consider paganism. I found Lady Bridget many years ago and we met at a bookstore cafe. I explained to her what felt right and wrong to me and she felt I should learn more about Wicca. Lady Bridget is a High Priestess of a local coven of "witches". I studied under Lady Bridget for about a year formally and she taught me many incredible things. Even more wonderful, the spiritual lessons she divulged fit with what I felt was right to me. I learned meditation, divination, history, rituals, spellwork and healing. I don't walk around wearing crystals, chanting and turning folks into toads, but I know my way around a pentagram and can make some herbal remedies that have cured friends' ailments. I prefer the term pagan to witch because witchcraft, or Wicca is too trendy today and I don't want to be a part of a "trend". I truly believe it is the most beautiful religion and you'd be shocked at how much of Christianity is based on the pagan religion. It is, after all, the oldest religion. Every Christian holiday is a remixed version of a Pagan holiday. That fact alone makes me question Christianity.

I have great respect for all religions. I firmly believe there is some truth in them all and that they inspire people to a better life. But for me, this is a fit.

I believe in a higher power that is both male/female and good/evil. There must be balance in everything. I do not worship the devil - the devil is a Christian concept. Where we recognize that you must have balance, Christians separated the good and bad and gave the bad a name - "devil".

I follow the paths of the moon. I find magic all around me. I have eased pain through meditation. I truly have amazed people by whipping up a brew that cured some awful pain they had, but I recently had a wicked experience with that and will probably hesitate before trying it again. (Story for another time, but let's just say the Witches Law of 3x3 is nothing to sneeze at.)

I prefer to practice solitary, as for me it is a very private and intimate thing. I do not interact with covens, although I do sometimes attend gatherings for Sabbats. There is a church in my area that is used by multiple organizations for different faiths and they host wonderful gatherings. My favorite is The Witches Ball held at Halloween, of course.

No matter what religion you follow, there is something there to be respectful of. For you, it might be the power of prayer, while for me it could be meditation and harnessing energies in nature. Either way, we know amazing things can happen. I've seen and learned things that confirm my beliefs more than any sermon ever could.

This is not to say I agree with everything Pagan either. I am not a dramatic witch. I do not usually reveal this fact to people until they have known me for a very long time. I do not believe I can fly on a broom. The faith I follow is not entirely different from the Shamanistic practices of the American Indians.

So, am I a good witch or a bad witch? (I would say a little of both!)

Posted by Red :: 11:27 PM :: |
Blog-a-thon Question #1 From Ed

Ed asked...

1. What is your favourite song that you sing along to on the radio?

Odd answer:

I have a million of them. I am completely entertained by the sound of my own voice. For a solid answer, I'd have to go with Wild by Poe. That song is so incredibly sexy. It makes me feel...well, wild. This is a serious sex song, if I ever heard one.

If you're not familiar with it, the lyrics won't do it justice. You have to hear the sensuous, breathy way she sings it.

Posted by Red :: 11:06 PM :: |
The Unexpected Day Off

I didn't expect to miss work today.

I didn't expect to wake up with a fever, a swollen right cheek and a numb face. I didn't expect an abcess tooth. I didn't expect EH to have to miss work today either, although I did expect SG to be off of school.

I did expect to reach my asshole dentist. I didn't expect him to close him office for the day and not respond to 3 emergency pages. Or, maybe I did. He's been flakey...always rescheduling my appointments. I don't think he has time to be a dentist. He has way too much to do and patients seem to interfere with his personal time.

I didn't expect to get desperate enough to go to my online insurance provider directory and hunt up a new dentist. I didn't expect the very first name I called to be incredibly attentive, caring and helpful even though I wasn't even their patient. I didn't expect her to call an endodontist on his day off and I certainly didn't expect that endodontist to call me back within 3 minutes to check on me.

I didn't expect to be referred straight to an oral surgeon who was equally incredible and asked me to come straight over. I didn't expect to be put on antibiotics and Vicodin. I didn't expect to be scheduled for surgery for a week from today to cut five teeth out of my mouth - 4 wisdom teeth, two of which are abcess and one broken tooth in the back of my mouth.

Being a serious dentist-phobe, I didn't expect to be so overwhelmingly charmed by a dentist, an endodontist and an oral surgeon. I didn't expect to schedule the procedure with minimal fear and a sense of comfort believing I'm in good hands with a surgeon I've known for all of 8 minutes.

I didn't expect my crummy insurance to cover much of it, but it did. I may not have expected the expense, but it's about 1/3 of what I probably should be paying.

I didn't expect to be so postive about it. I'm more excited about firing my unresponsive and often unavailable dentist to become an eager patient of the new dentist. I feel like I found a treasure rather than like I am going to have my mouth hacked to pieces. And c'mon, you guys know I'm not the "look on the bright side" kinda girl.

Of course, that could be the Vicodin talking...

Posted by Red :: 5:42 PM :: |

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Sensuality vs. Sexuality

Is anyone else watching the Bravo series Forty Deuce?

Forty Deuce features a burlesque show featuring sensuous performances by very talented female dancers. It's sexy, but not in the stripper way. The dancers are incredibly talented without the over-the-top posturing you might expect of a burlesque dancer.

Personally, I am addicted to the costumes they wear. I love them. I want them. I crave them.

The show is so-so at best. Anxiety-ridden Ivan Kane is driving himself to a nervous breakdown opening a new Forty Deuce club in Vegas. His dancers are drama-stricken beauties whose daily problems range from irresponsibility, immigration Visa problems, twisted ankles, personal demons and boyfriends. It's the brief glimpses of performances and (again) the wardrobe that I watch weekly for.

There's a fine line between sensuality and sexuality. I'd eagerly sit through Forty Deuce performances where I would turn my nose up at a strip club. It's a funny thing...I'm known by now for being a woman of high sex drive. I'm experimental and open-minded, but I have my own standards. You want to know why I don't write much erotica here? I can't. I'm just not the kind of girl comfortable using some of the words that would befit a truly erotic tale. Even my version of "sexy talk" is incredibly mild filled more with breathless whispers and sighs than with dirty words.

I see myself more as sensual than as sexual. While I love to entertain some of the very dirtiest fantasies in my mind, even they are more 9 1/2 Weeks than Debbie Does Dallas - filled with darkened candle-lit rooms, sheer white draperies blowing wildly in gale force winds and slicked bodies arched in mutual ecstasy. I don't imagine conversations featuring words like "cock", "dick" or "pussy". I cringe even typing them and believe me, baby, I am far from shy. I just find them distasteful in my view of erotic. They don't offend me, they just don't suit me either.

But, speaking of things that suit me, here are my choices for fun evening wear. Feel free to buy them all for me, Sugar Daddies.

003 004 005 006 007

Posted by Red :: 11:15 PM :: |

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Your Little Darling Need a Serious Spanking, Inga! I ever going to be unpopular with this post.

My 9 year old rarely gets in trouble. EH and I are both very loving, cuddly and playful with her - but we are also extremely strict. Our daughter is not permitted to be disrespectful or to not follow directions. We expect her to behave. We expect please and thank you. She is welcome to disagree or challenge an order she dissagrees with (and she will sometimes win) as long as it is done calmly and respectfully. On the same token, she has been taught that she should NOT follow any directions from strangers. Only her parents, teachers, family and professional figures of authority. But, she is to remain respectful.

Not to brag too much, but we have no behavior problems with our sweet girl and we are constantly complimented on her demeanor. She's a pleasure to be around.

Frankly, I am apalled at the lack of parenting I see around me. I've seen co-workers bring children into our office and ignore them while they run around, screaming and throwing paper all over like tiny tasmanian devils. I've seen my best friends son rudely interrupt her and speak to her in a condescending tone in front of other adults and she responds by allowing him - and even encouraging - this behavior.

And, I've just seen the now infamous video of the 5 year old girl who was handcuffed at school. If you haven't viewed this gem or read the story, you can get it here.

I'd heard the video and knew it was controversial. The mom already had a lawyer on the case (and fired him once she became a "celebrity") and has already launched a major campaign to earn a living on this incident.

I watched both videos and have my own opinion. Inga Akins (mom), your child is a brat who clearly lacks any discipline or self control and rather than earning money from A Current Affair by selling the video, you should be ashamed of yourself and seeking counseling for yourself as a parent and your violent offspring.

And...your kid deserved the cuffs.

There was ONE and only ONE mistake I saw in the video. The officers cuffed her during the 3 minutes this child finally sat calmly down. They should have waited 5 minutes for her to launch into another freakish violent temper tantrum and then hogtied your the angel and thrown her into the squad car until it suited "mom" to get her ass down to the school. (Note: Mom had been called twice and even told that the police would be called and she said she couldn't get free from work. NEWSFLASH, Inga, when your child is in serious trouble - you GO TO THEM.

The child ripped things off walls, threw things, destroyed other children's art, the teacher's belongings and several times she tried to hit the assistant principal and the teacher who were trying to calm her. She balled her fists and even climbed on a table to try to punch the assistant principal in the face. The teachers had to move the entire class out of the room and disrupt the lesson for their own safety.

A victim of police brutality??? No. The only thing this child is a victim of is piss-poor parenting from a mom who couldn't be fucking bothered to leave work to come to her child's school during a seriously violent and destructive fit that required police intervention...(the same mom who suddenly has plenty of time to take off work to travel to be on TV shows and file lawsuits and sell the video of her brat behaving like a pint-sized criminal).

Parenting is a full time job, folks. The video shows a child who has no respect for authority, no self control and violent tendencies resulting from - lack of parenting.

I think the real travesty here is the fact that Ms. Akins is profitting from the event. Her child wasn't harmed - she was RESTRAINED. And she damn well needed to be!

I know the bleeding hearts are just going to have a field day with this...

I love children. If this video had depicted a different scene, I might have been outraged too. But 3 minutes into the 28 minute video and I wanted to spank that brat myself.

Give me a break.

And it get's worse. Now Reverend Al Sharpton has gotten involved and they are calling this racially motivated. What??? If so, then when the little black girl punched her white assistant principal - was that a hate crime???

Reading this article pissed me off even more. A quote from this article: Former educators in attendance suggested that the unruly child could have been given a toy or something else to distract her or given another activity to work on.

Are you fucking kidding me? The little wretch destroys a classroom, violently lashes out at her teacher and assistant principal and they think she should have been given A TOY????

In the video, the AP is constantly speaking calmly and almost pleadingly to the girl. "You need to sit down please. You may not act this way.", etc. I would have used the special "mommy" voice that stops my child in her tracks.

Listen, if I had been in this AP's situation - it would have gone mighty differently.

First, I would have raised my voice to it's loudest and meanest shout and given the child a direct and LOUD command to "SIT DOWN IN THAT CHAIR RIGHT NOW AND DO NOT MOVE!" Sometimes, when normal tones aren't working - you need to get their attention and startle them.

Second, when Mom was called - I would have told her in no uncertain terms that her daughter was having a violent and destructive outburst and that unless Mom or an authorized relative arrived in the next 30 minutes to get this child, I was calling the police in to restrain her. No if's, and's or buts.

People are acting like this is such an "outrage" and it disgusts me. Why? Because she was 5? What if she had been 15? Then, in post-Columbine America, it would have been allowable? If she was white this would have been okay?


Posted by Red :: 9:21 PM :: |
And just like that...

It wasn't that the sex was fantastic (it was). It was the "skin time", that sense of reconnecting. My mind is still in after-glow mode long after the last faint throes of passion have faded from my body.

All day today, working - and I can't wait to see him. I just want to hug him, to touch him, to kiss him. I want to snuggle against him and feel him wrap his arms around me. I feel so safe and secure and protected in his arms. I'm convinced that nothing bad can happen to me if I am in his arms.

And it took so little...

I understand, at times like this, why it's called "making love". That brief time we spent naked and pressed together sharing lovely sensations just seems to bring our hearts back together again. Suddenly I'm watching the clock, thinking about seeing him, remembering the feel of his skin, his rough cheek, his hands...and I'm sated still.

I love my husband.

Posted by Red :: 5:57 PM :: |
Who Me? Complain?

You must have me confused with some other wife. Because this wife is basking in the after glow.

It was the sensuous, fast lovemaking that comes from full arousal. The kind that brings both of us to rapid bliss. First me, doing that thing I like so much, then him only a few breaths later. Mmmmmmm.

I swear by all that is sacred if that man had a good job (or won the lottery) my life would be perfect at this moment.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there is a warm, naked, sleeping sated man upstairs just waiting to be curled up with.

Good night, dear friends. I've celebrated Hump Day a bit early today.

Posted by Red :: 12:25 AM :: |

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

He Didn't Understand

EH didn't understand the things I tried to say to him and I was really unhappy to discover that last night, while he surfed the web for hours while I slept on the couch beside him, not one search was into a job.

So, the arguing began.

Instead of telling him how hard things were when there's no income from his job and no sex life, he heard "you're a lousy lover" and "you're a lousy provider".

The hardest part is that he doesn't understand that the things I need from him are things that can not be forced. If they are not given willingly, they are meaningless. I don't want him to make efforts to have sex with me. I want it to be natural. And it's not.

I slept finally, around 2 am, after hours of tears and arguing. And arguing about arguing. It was a fitful sleep with so many nightmares. Demons, monsters, death, being lost...every horrible fear stalked me in my sleep.

When the alarm went off, he didn't touch me. He slipped from bed and went about his day. Not a word to me. On the long drive to my office, he may have said 3 things to me. It was cold and sad.

He didn't understand. And I don't know where we go from here because I can't make him be a lover and provider and I can't let it be okay for him to dump the responsibility solely on me and simultaneously ignore me in the bedroom.

He doesn't understand.

Posted by Red :: 7:41 AM :: |

Monday, April 25, 2005

Sitting, Wishing, Waiting

When I am particularly exhausted I seem to enter this state of mind where my emotions are very close to the surface and yet I am numb at the same time. So even though I cried the first time I shared with a co-worker that my grandfather had pass away this past Friday, I was numb to the stress of the day.

I arrived at the summer camp offices at 3:16 am. At that ungodly hour, there were 5 parents in front of me in line. And it was cold. Damned cold. I still cannot believe I camped on a sidewalk through the night in the cold and then went straight to work and there were no U2 tickets involved. Summer camp??? Are you serious???

But yes, serious they were. This year was orderly and well-mannered and it was still a bargain for a summer of child care. I'm almost willing to forgive having to endure 4 hours of parents loudly discussing little league baseball as if it were the very meaning of our existence.

Last night, I asked EH if we could talk. There were some things on my mind and I had sat on them for a few days, trying to determine the best way to broach them without a fight.

I had come to see that although we have made great progress in the recovery of our marriage from last year, the problems that caused much of the rift were still present for me. EH is still not doing much to support the family while I work my ass off and our sex life is still practically non-existant. I spoke carefully, expressing my concerns and trying not to make it sound like an attack, but EH went on the defense just the same.

There's just no easy way to suggest that your husband get a real job, but it's critical. I work so hard, such long hours and he earns what some high school kids earn during the summer. I have to admit, I feel a small bit of resentment towards EH every time I am paying a 'final notice' bill or counting nickels to buy dinner or skipping lunch because we're broke. It's not fair. I earn a decent living, I should be able to afford to eat lunch! I shouldn't stay awake at night figuring out which bill I can let slide past the due date to be able to put gas in my car. I'm far from materialistic, but I'm only looking to have basic needs met. Keep the diamonds, I just want to buy new clothes for our daughter, get a professional hair cut now and then and maybe be able to buy all the groceries we need instead of figuring out how far I can stretch 3 lbs of ground beef.

And the sex...gone again! I hate being the person who counts how many days between sexual encounters, but when it becomes ridiculous, you just can't help it. I was irritated when we went 4 weeks with no sex this past March. I'm annoyed that when we finally got back to it we were only managing once a week. And now, we're at a week and one day and I have to admit my dreams are beginning to revolve around sex. This morning I managed to catch 20 minutes of sleep and dreamt my vibrator had been chewed up by the dog and would not stop buzzing even without the batteries in it.

Don't get me wrong, my husband is fabulous. He always looks to ensure I am comfortable, he sacrifices himself to be kind and loving to me. He never criticizes me or gets nasty with me. He's tender, gentle, loving and kind.

And I am madly, madly in love with him...but that love isn't putting food on the table and it's damned sure not getting me off sexually.

And, dear reader, those are 2 of the 3 things that caused me to grow apart from EH last year in frustration. The third was his work hours.

Is history doomed to repeat itself?

Posted by Red :: 7:13 PM :: |
How I Spent My Lunch Hour...

...sharing things with you, of course. Too tired to think otherwise.

Yet another sign of the apocolypse. (And for God's sake, don't drink the water!)

You know the drinking has become a problem when you wake up to this.

Don't tell me X-Men aren't real.

Ohhhhh...they're going to have the funny Nazis.

Posted by Red :: 12:55 PM :: |

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Let the Madness Begin...

As quickly as one week ends, an insane week is beginning.

I'm about to turn in to bed early. I'll have to wake up and get myself to the local summer camp office at 3 am to enroll my daughter in their summer program. In my urban area, getting a child into summer camp is something like finding affordable housing in Manhattan. Last year, I missed out entirely, but a friend who arrived at 4 am was the last person signed up. Enrollment begins at 8 am and since I have to go straight to work, I need to be among the first to enroll. After, I'll head off for a grueling long day followed by a work event I am obligated to attend.

I plan to be grouchy tomorrow.

The first rumbles of bickering over my grandfather's estate has begun. He left 3 daughters, including my mother and one is already threatening to sue the other. The funeral should be fabulous, don't you think?

Pity me...

Posted by Red :: 8:36 PM :: |
The Odd Wife Makeover

Nothing picks you up quite like a makeover, so I set out to play today and gave The Odd Wife blog a thorough primping.

Love it? Hate it?

I'd love to know what you long as it's postive.
If you don't like it - fake it, baby.

Posted by Red :: 7:45 PM :: |
After Midnight Silliness

Why it's dangerous to use the bathrooms in Texas.
They're shooting you for washing your hands now...

Another sign that the apocolypse is near...
Dr. Peter Venkman, “ . . . fire and brimstone, cats and dogs living together – mass hysteria!”

A driving hazard they don't warn you about in Driver's Ed
When will this madness stop?

It's all fun and games until a monkey gets drunk
How did they not see this one coming???

STOP the presses!
This is some seriously in-depth reporting...

This bastard should be shot...

Sure, this is a great idea...
But who will nag you to pick up your socks, boys???

There's a big difference between loving wild animals and loving wild animals...

Thank God we solved this mystery!
1. I am amused that men never tire of measuring and 2. I have newfound respect for Italians.

Bob Marley is rolling in his grave

Posted by Red :: 12:16 AM :: |

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Thank God I'm 32

My home has been overrun with prepubescent girls and all I can think of is how I would never go back to that age.

SG has 2 friends spending the night tonight for her first real slumber party. The 2 girls are from different schools and had never, of course they have bonded tight leaving SG as the Odd Child out. So far, SG is oblivius to it because she's the kind of kid who isn't concerned with those things...but she's bound to have a conflict.

At the moment, Cheerleading Friend and School Friend are sneaking around, whispering to each other while SG is contentedly watching a movie. Not jsut any movie. Cheerleading Friend's parents have some super secret connection that somehow magically produces DVDs of movies that are just now in theaters. We currently have Robots and Because of Winn-Dixie for the night.

I'm such a fool. I had the girls arrive at noon. It's been and is going to be a long, long day. My normally quiet home is overrun with giggly, laughing, screeching, running, jumping, twirling short people.

I spent my afternoon in professional negotiations with Mr. Opportunity. So far, so good. We'll see if he balks at the sum of money I suggested. If he doesn't...well, there could be some serious life changes.

I have growing frustration with EH's lack of career motivation. I keep trying to remind him that we have a family to support and that I can't do it alone, but so far - there's been no changes. I'm honestly not sure how much more I can take...financially or emotionally! I love him so much, but I need a partner to help support this family of ours!

Posted by Red :: 5:38 PM :: |

Friday, April 22, 2005


It was a crummy day all around. I didn't sleep well and everything that could go wrong with my files at work did go wrong.

I wasn't much looking forward to the weekend either. I have a rather full plate and I am not expecting any rest this weekend.

And then, it all went really wrong.

I didn't get home until after 8 pm. There was a business card stuck in my front door from my aunt. No note. No message. I had that "Oh no..." moment. I rushed inside to grab the cell phone I had left home by mistake and there was a message from my aunt. "Call me, it's important".

And I knew...

My grandfather passed away today. Next Sunday, he would have been 94 years old. He was the most important person in my life for many reasons.

My grandfather has suffered from Alzheimers for the past 10 years. He was moved to a nursing home far away in 1997 and after a few very disturbing attempts, I stopped communicating with him. He didn't know me. When we did try to talk, the dementia was painful. Once, he talked dirty to me. You just don't forget that. I wanted to remember my "Pop pop" and gradually I stopped trying to speak with him.

As a child, he was a 2nd father to me. Him and my grandmother cared for me every day after school and all summer long. I traveled with them. Most of my young years was spent in their care.

My grandfather gave me the two greatest gifts of my life.

First, he taught me to read. More than that, he taught me to love reading. Every day he sat with me on a porch swing and read the comics with me. In kindergarten, I was discovered to have a 5th grade reading level. To this day I devour books with an nearly obsessive hunger. To me, this is a miraculous gift to pass on.

Second, he paid for my daughter's college education. Our state has a prepaid college fund that allows you to make monthly payments to pay for a full 4 year college education at any state university. He bought and paid for this (in full) just after my grandmother's death. It has always been a comfort to EH and I to know that her college education is secure and I know how valuable this will be in her life. She was tested and found to have an IQ of 155 (genius level) and this education will most likely be critical to her future success. What greater gift coulld he give to me?

The funeral will be next Saturday, locally. A small graveside service as he is laid to rest beside my grandmother.

My aunt told me to think of something to say and I wanted to write it tonight, while it's still fresh. Forgive the sappiness, but I'm going to post it here just the same.

I still don’t know quite how to react to death. In my life, I have only lost three people that I was very close to…in 1996, my grandmother was the first, this past August, my son and now my grandfather. It’s hard to really know what to say today. In some ways, I have slowly lost my grandfather over the last 8 years as his mind deteriorated before his body.

I’m ashamed that I didn’t keep in better contact with my grandfather. There were times that I tried and afterwards found it very painful or upsetting. He either didn’t know me or said wildly inappropriate things that I couldn’t understand. I have tremendous appreciation for my aunt, Bonnie, for her strength and love in watching over him. I can not even imagine how difficult it was. I think that on some level, my lack of communication with my grandfather was a selfish attempt for me to remember him as he always was to me. Pop-pop.

My grandparents played the role of 2nd Mom and Dad to me during my childhood. Gramma picked me up every day from pre-school and brought me home where I entertained myself playing with boxes, Pop-Pop’s typewriter or the funny shaped pool table until Pop-pop came home. He would sit on the porch swing with me and read the comics with me. By kindergarten, I was reading at a 5th grade level because of my Pop-Pop.

I went on vacations with them…Pittsburgh, Virginia, Kansas, Disney World… I remember pieces of every one of them. I remember the stories they would tell. I have scores of memories ranging from trivial to meaningful. The Christmas’s with Pop-pop’s trains. The way he would let me build entire cities in the garage from empty boxes. The novels I would bang out on his typewriter. Pop-pop never yelled at me (that was Gramma’s job). He was the grampa who took the time to encourage me in whatever I dreamed up. He taught me about orange trees, grapefruit trees and tangerines. He showed me how to make apple sauce from scratch. He bought me this stuffed animal, I don’t remember where, but I remember seeing it, asking for it and him giving it to me. I remember this vividly because I named the dog “Harold” in his honor. He was my extra Dad, my favorite grandfather, my Easter bunny, my Santa Claus and my teacher.

Long before Alzheimer’s was a part of his life, my grandfather would get confused with me. He would frequently refer to my mother or one of my aunts as my “sister” or to Gramma as my “Mom”. It never bothered me. He simply thought of me as a daughter.

My grandfather loved my grandmother deeply and there is a part of me that feels a sort of peace that he is finally with her again. He was never really the same after she passed away 9 years ago. As much as I will and have missed him, I think he missed her even more.

My grandfather gave me the two greatest gifts you can give to a person. First, as I said, he taught me to read – but more than that, he taught me to love it. Even as a child, I would pour through books in an almost obsessive way. I still do. To this day, there is never a day that I am not reading a book. The second gift he gave me was from him and Gramma – my daughter’s college education, pre paid for through the Florida prepaid college fund. Those two gifts have and will always be eternal land constant reminders of how incredibly important he was in my life. “Harold” had been passed down to my daughter, (SG), when she spied him and fell in love. When I heard my grandfather had passed away, SG gave him back to me voluntarily as another memory of my grandfather to keep and treasure. I have “Harold” back now and I am grateful, but the other gifts from my grandfather will live on forever…

Posted by Red :: 11:12 PM :: |

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

What is romance?

Why is it so hard to find? Why does it require so much effort to keep alive? Why do some people seem to dedicate a lifetime to searching for it? How does it make and break so many marriages?

What is this thing...romance?

Among other things, defines romance as an ardent emotional attachment or involvement between people.

Is romance diffent for men and women? Some would say yes.

Can it be properly expressed in a love letter?

Posted by Red :: 11:02 PM :: |
It was a day...

I returned to work today...willingly! It was the equivalent of a half day because of our company meeting which was held in the picnic area of a local scenic park near the ocean. I was rewarded with a $50 bill for my smart-ass t-shirt (they had asked us to wear t-shirts with bumper sticker type slogans and I 'invented' one related to our work that had a double entendre). My boss (the company owner) is always so encouraging of my sense of humor, eccentricities and my approach to things and it feels wonderful to be so accepted.

The opportunity I alluded to recently continues to develop in interesting and exciting ways.

SG fainted today. When she and EH arrived to collect me from the office she looked pale and tired. I asked if she felt sick and she said 'yes' and I began to rush her towards the ladies room (knowing she could vomit at any moment) and just outside the restroom door she went down like a ton of bricks. I was so frightened. She came out of it quickly and a Coke seemed to restore her vitality and energy. Low blood sugar?

As much as I would love to chat - I did get the DSL for late night work, and it's time to get to it.


Posted by Red :: 9:17 PM :: |
It's The '60's for a Day

Today is April 20. For numerous reasons--none of which by the way are true--420 is the universal numeral for pot smokers. Across this land red-eyed gazers are drifting into Blockbuster rental stores, finding out the copy of "Half Baked" is already out, and then later discovering that they had never returned it when they rented it 6 months ago.

Posted by The Even Husband :: 8:30 PM :: |
On-Line,and more important, In-Line

As My Odd One mentioned we are back, rambling amidst the ether, here at home. It has been a trepadacious week for her, causing some serious anxiety on her end for the better part of a week. We have hashed out a load of trauma this past year and this is a rather significant move for us. It may sound lame to some but this is a big step from my perspective.

I abused this tool and as a result almost had my life as I knew it vanquished--and all because of my actions. I missed having the internet here, but it paled when compared to the thought of losing her. I've been watching her closely this week and have really enjoyed the great smile she has and the shine in her eyes. Missing out on a lifetime of that would be the real loss.

Posted by The Even Husband :: 8:21 PM :: |

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

A Message From Home...

My home, to be specific. Yep, DSL is restored in my household.

I'm as excited as I am apprehensive. I'll have much more opportunity to work late (from home), post more, manage more and work on some side projects.

It's back to work tomorrow after a couple days of R&R. I'm ready for it, today I found myself getting restless already. I very nearly went into work and had to curb my instincts. I managed to spend the day vegg-ing out with moves (Spanglish, Meet The Fockers, Closer) and cleaning up my hard drive.

Since I successfully did nothing - there's not much to say. So, in lieu of a wordy post, I give you some random images from my day...

100_0279 This would be my pouty labrador, Dutch. Dutch craves constant and unwavering attention and affection. Dutch also forgets that he weighs 90 lbs and thinks he is a tiny lap dog who can just hop on your lap.

100_0278 This is my super-snotty cat, Sasha. Sasha is also the fattest cat I have ever seen. It's her bitchy attitude that I adore...

100_0280 This is a picture hanging close to me as I write this - one of my favorites. Our living room decor is this bizarre theme: Tiki Martini Lounge. Somehow it works, mainly because we insist on it. We're still slowly adding to it.

100_0281 This is our magnetic message board (of course, it's a martini). And that would be EH's grocery list - doesn't he have the handwriting of a serial killer?

100_0284 One wall of our living room. I have no idea what color we painted the walls, but I love it. It's a sort of khaki meets dijon mustard color. At least one of the pictures shown in this picture was painted by me. I'm not talented, I just like to paint and I believe if you paint, you should display it (even if it's total crap).

100_0285 The top of our entertainment assortment of tiki statues, a ukelele, photos, candles and whatnot...

Just a glimpse. Nothing more. It's bedtime and an extraordinarily handsome man just went to take a shower...I plan to join him.

Good night!

Posted by Red :: 10:14 PM :: |

Monday, April 18, 2005

Random Thoughts on a Monday

I liked having a day off today. After countless hours and stress at the office, it felt wonderful to take a day off to just be still.

I did a favor for a friend today. And got one in return.

Someone who drove me insane at work was fired today.

The backs of my knees are sunburned a bit. I spent the late afternoon lying on the sand of Fort Lauderdale beach on my straw mat pouring through the new James Patterson novel.

I finished the novel in 3 hours.

I have 3 new throw pillows for my couch. This may seem really unimportant, but they perfectly match the blue rug that was previously out of place and tie the color in throughout the room.

I indulged in a Coca-Cola slurpee today…my favorite.

My home phone line was installed today. Once my modem arrives (this week) I will have DSL in my home again. I had previously turned it off after EH’s misdeeds online. I am nervous about having it again.

My mother called twice over the weekend. I didn’t answer or call her back. Prior to her calls, something EH and I saw on TV sparked a thought as I recognized my childhood in a drama we watched and it was not a good one.

Some random memories from my childhood…living alone with my very young mother in a tiny apartment with no electricity and eating cold cereal for breakfast, my mother being attacked in front of me by a woman and me (at age 4) not understanding why and trying to care for her scratches, my mother and I in her tiny car in a parking lot and a woman hurling herself onto the car and pummeling the glass with her fists screaming at us (my mother was having an affair with her husband), a man calling my home and telling my mother she would no longer have a daughter if she didn’t stop seeing my (future) step-dad, a kidnapping attempt when I was 12 by a man who later raped, murdered and beheaded another local girl, my father’s arrest for drug trafficking when I was 13, the big money in my household during the 80’s and my mother telling me quality was better than quantity as she encouraged me to designer labels and cosmetics, my stepfather’s quiet and subdued alcoholism.

There are 9 candles lit and flickering in my living room. I love candles.

I always wondered about the sort of person who sat at the patio tables of a Starbucks on a Monday morning at 10:30 am. Today I was one of them.

Posted by Red :: 12:36 PM :: |

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Spring Cleaning for the Soul

The weekend was spent spring cleaning. From top to bottom, we dusted, vacuumed, picked up, rearranged and washed. We’re not finished, but our usually cluttered home has been transformed into a rather pleasant place to be.

Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could do the same to our souls?

We’d toss out the bad, the ugly and the unwanted. We’d polish and shine the beautiful moments we’ve stored in our hearts. We’d rearrange the cluttered thoughts into something organized and tidy. And, like my house, we’d be renewed.

During our cleaning, I would occasionally find an object that I was not sure what to do with. I’d consider where it might be best stored or displayed for several moments before placing it to the side for a bit while I cleaned on. Eventually, the solution would come to me and the object would be placed in its new home.

I find that I approach my life in this same manner. When I am confronted with a situation that I do not know how to handle, I hold it nearby and study it, contemplate it and test it out in different ways. I must solve the puzzle before I can put it away. And, thus, I am still turning the events of last year around and around to find their place in my life.

I’ve tried to hide them away in dark corners, only to stumble across them when I least expect to. I’ve tried to display them in the open and found that the daily sight of them only caused more stress.

And still, I look for their final resting place.

EH cleaned side by side with me throughout the weekend. At different points, I would study him. His broad, strong shoulders. His muscular arms. His perfectly chiseled features. His pale aqua eyes beneath a fringe of thick, dark lashes. Each glance filled me with those little butterflies. I am married to a remarkably handsome man. I am married to a man who I find infinitely more attractive than any other man alive..

Beyond looks, I am married to a man who loves me. A man who rubbed my feet and fixed me dinner on Friday night when I worked until after 9 pm. A man who patiently folded and hung laundry. A man who let me nap Sunday while he worked on. A man who seems to always have my best interests at heart.

It should be perfect. I love him. And one day, I hope to be able to finally lay the past year deep in the storage area of my soul. I expect to run across the hurt and doubt from time to time, but I hope each time will be a bit less painful.

I remain eternally grateful that what happened seems to have saved our marriage as much as it hurt it...

Posted by Red :: 9:24 PM :: |

Friday, April 15, 2005

Happy Rubber Eraser Day! (What did you get me???)

3No, it's not a truly is Rubber Eraser Day, a fine holiday, if you ask me. I scanned through the e-cards available for this special occasion and noted that the holiday seems to encompass more than just pencil and paper mistakes.

And...we all make mistakes, right? defines mistake as follows:

1. An error or fault resulting from defective judgment, deficient knowledge, or carelessness.
2. A misconception or misunderstanding.

I've made plenty of mistakes and I am sure there are plenty still to be made. I don't regret mistakes that are true mistakes (meaning there was no intention) because these trials and errors are a part of basic learning. We are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over until we finally learn from them and choose another course of action.

I'm going to stay in my marriage. I'm going to work to make it good and strong and happy. What happened last year can never be erased, but it can be learned from.

And I have learned...

I've made mistakes too. I realized last night that I've been trying very hard to restore my marriage to how it was before it was "broken". Because my heart told me that was what I was supposed to do...something is broken, you fix it back to how it was.

But how it "was" wasn't very good, was it?

I need to work on understanding that the path to getting over this won't lead me back to where I've been, but rather to someplace new. Yes, my husband was unfaithful. And that is a truth that must become part of the path. It can not be undone, it must be accepted and incorporated into my beliefs.

While I wish I could erase it, that it would be gone forever from my memory, my heart...

...but then, what would I have learned?

It's an ongoing effort. Maybe I am weak. Maybe our vows meant more to me. Maybe I believed in him so strongly that his mistake has shattered my concepts of 'us'. It doesn't matter. I keep moving - sometimes I even move forward.

Posted by Red :: 7:42 AM :: |

Thursday, April 14, 2005

I am what I am...

"I am what I am", says Popeye. And so do I. I am what I am.

I know who and what I am. It's not all good. It's not all bad. I take pride in the good and...sometimes I take pride in the bad as well.

I am a type A personality.

I am a woman who has CSB: Compulsive Sexual Behavior Disorder. I substitute sex for power. I feel in control and powerful through sex.

I am a redhead. Most of the time. I'm naturally auburn, but I've been bright red since I was 19. My hair falls past my shoulders and is very curly. This picture looks a bit like my hair - but mine is a deeper shade of red.

I am curvy. I like my curves. I have an hourglass figure and I am dieting religiously to enhance it a bit more.

I have a wicked temper.

I have no self-control.

I am impulsive.

I hold grudges. Possibly forever.

I am a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend, an enemy, a lover...

I am extremely girly. Pink. Sparkley. I am quick to use feminine wiles to emphasize or further a cause - from the way I let hair fall over my face, to the way I narrow my eyes or shift my hip. I flirt with men and women. It's not about them, it's about me and how I feel.

If you watch me closely, for a long period of time, my maneuvers are easy to spot.

I am a social drinker. I love a cocktail and listening to music.

I sing along to the the top of my lungs.

If I were single, I am fairly sure I would be a whore.

I am lazy when it comes to housework. I hate cleaning.

I have vivid dreams.

I meditate.

I love the gym and yoga.

I love to snorkel.

I love rainy days.

I am afraid of snakes.

I do not accept rejection well.

I study people and their ways until I can understand what their tones and body languages represent. It's a bit like mind reading to me because I sense what they mean even when they say something different. I do this subconsciously. I have at least one friend who thinks I am dangerous because he suspects I use mind control on people. To a small extent, he's right, but not in the way he thinks. It's about reading people and responding in ways including tone, touch, non-verbal communications...etc. I sometimes get in trouble for this...

I read tarot cards. Not often because it drains my energy and leaves me tired and cranky.

I have repeatedly been told by people that I should do phone sex. Apparently I have a voice for it.

I've experimented sexually.

I am always reading. I am never without a book.

I have hundreds of favorite songs. I am certain every one of them is about me.

I am a workaholic.

I lack self-esteem and I am a very harsh critic of myself. In my eyes, I will never be good enough, sexy enough, pretty enough, smart enough, strong enough...

I am pagan. My friends call me a witch, but I disagree with that term.

I am possessive of lovers and friends. I do not like to share.

I like to be the center of attention.

I miss carbs.

I miss my mother.

I miss Christina Marchese.

I want to travel. I love traveling.

I always believe I will win the lottery. And I am genuinely surprised when I don't.

I watched far too many movies and read too many books growing up and therefore, believe life is supposed to be like that. Music should swell when you kiss, there are heros and villains. Montages play in your head when you are sad.

I am a sucker for bad boys. Mmmmm. In a big, big way.

I am easy to misunderstand because I hide. I portray different things to different people. I firmly believe that there is no one who truly knows me...EH is the closest, but even he knows only a piece.

Who are you?

Posted by Red :: 7:57 AM :: |

I am restoring my DSL home connection. My work load, plus some side opportunities has made this necessary. I decided to clean up my computer system to get ready for the changes.

Did you know computers like to save screen shots, images, etc?

So, of course I found a screen shot from one year ago. It was the inbox page of EH's secret email account. It had 37 emails from the woman he was cheating with. It's only a screen shot. There's no way to open the emails. But there was at least one email every single day for the entire month of April. Subjects like "That was AWESOME!" and "As you asked" and so on and so on... There was also a screen shot of an email from her "That photo shows a beautiful body! Tell the wife thanks for me?"


And there I was. Right back to the anger. I wondered if the 37 emails counted as 37 betrayals...?

I will acknowledge that more and more time seems to pass between my bouts of confusion and anger. But it's amazing how you stumble upon things that throw you right back to those feelings of hurt, anger, confusion.

And once again I wonder...what kind of future do you build on broken promises and destroyed trust?

"I can never forgive you for this," I told EH that night, "I've tried, I'm trying...but it's just still there."

"I know."

"I might never forgive you."

"I know and I understand."

"I might never trust you again."

"I know. That's killing me, but I know. It kills me when I see you leaf through my spiral notebook or glance in my backpack. I know why you're doing it and it kills me."

How romantic, isn't it, this lovely marriage we have? Sure, we're soul mates. Sure, we gaze into each others eyes and whisper sweet promises. Sure, we hold hands, kiss, make love and laugh much of the time.

Are we stronger? That's an interesting question. I used to think 'yes', but now I wonder...we were strong enough to survive this (so far), but EH knows that if he even comes close to crossing that line again I will divorce him with no questions asked and not give him an opportunity to defend or explain his actions. Over. Finito! Period. Done. Is that stronger? Am I stronger? I think I am - but am I stronger to fix things or stronger to walk away?

Are we smarter? Will I spot the danger signs faster? The long nights he spent online. The distance between us. The lies. The nights he had to work late. Does he know better how to hide these things?

Are we better?

Are we ever going to get past it for good? The answer to that is no. This is now an etched part of our history that will not go away or change. It is forever. It will never be entirely forgotten. It may never be forgiven.

How far have we really come?

One year ago today, he was talking to her. One year ago today I was sure he'd never do such a thing. One year ago today, we were unhappy - only he never spoke up and when I did, he insisted we 'couldn't fix it until we knew what the problem was'.

What a crock of shit. The problem was that he was a liar and a cheat.

And I love him. Still.

I won't promise forever. I've learned that lesson. There is no forever. He's here now and I'm not looking ahead to see if he'll be there tomorrow.

Posted by Red :: 7:48 AM :: |

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Cheaters Suck

Below is a news story that caught my eye. And inspired a rant.

So....not only is the wife a two-timing tramp, but now her sleazy ways cost her husband his life.

You make a vow to someone and then, for whatever reason, can't uphold your promises. But, you're too cowardly to say so to the person you made those promises, you lie, cheat, steal, betray, deceive until someone gets seriously hurt - either emotionally or physically. Usually the hurt someone is the same person who loved you, picked up your dirty laundry, cared for your children, took care of you when you were sick, listened to your worries, fears,, naturally you want to just destroy any happiness they might feel.

Yep...people who cheat on their spouses are really wonderful people.

Man beaten to death after catching wife's lover living in closet

By COLIN FLY, Associated Press

April 13, 2005, 8:38 AM EDT

NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- A man was beaten to death after catching his wife's lover living in a closet in their home, police said Tuesday.

Rafael DeJesus Rocha-Perez, 35, was charged with homicide in the slaying of 44-year-old Jeffrey A. Freeman over the weekend.

"From time to time, you come across a case with very unique -- even bizarre -- circumstances," police spokesman Don Aaron said. "This one probably rates right up there with them."

Freeman's wife had allowed Rocha-Perez to live in a closet of the Freemans' four-bedroom home for about a month without her husband's knowledge, police said. On Sunday, her husband heard Rocha-Perez snoring and discovered him, authorities said.

Freeman ordered his wife to get the man out of the house while he went for a walk, authorities said. Martha Freeman told authorities that when her husband returned, Rocha-Perez confronted him with a shotgun, forced him into a bathroom and bludgeoned him.

The Freemans were co-owners of a company that does background checks for apartment rental and job applicants.

Copyright © 2005, South Florida Sun-Sentinel

Posted by Red :: 7:26 PM :: |

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Those Urges...

I want it.

I want it badly. My entire body yearn for it. I know the answer to my needs is only down the hallway and that makes me ache with raw longing.

I want to pull that metal tab and release the sweetness. I want to take it in my hands and hold it to my mouth while the sticky, sweet nectar flows down my throat.

I want to swallow it in needy gulps and lick my lips after, making sure not one drop was wasted.

This low-carb diet thing sucks. I want a fucking can of Pepsi. I won't go get it. I've been doing awesome on watching what I eat/drink (not counting alcohol, mind you)

But I want it...I want it bad...

Posted by Red :: 1:10 PM :: |
Odd Mojo Rising

4Forget what I said...the mojo is back!


Last night, our daughter in the tub upstairs, splashing and talking to herself while EH and I snuggled on the couch watching TV and kissing and touching like two high school kids keeping an ear out for the parents to discover us.

After, our daughter sleeps and we watch a movie - Manhood, starring Nestor Carbonell, John Ritter, Janeane Garofalo. The movie is a little dark, but I keep pointing out that Nestor Carbonell kissed me once (November 2003. True story!) and EH kisses me...better. He makes room for me to lie on the couch with him. He's lightly caressing and stroking.

Soon, it heats up. Clothes are peeled off, soft moans and groans. It doesn't take long, but the intensity is impressive and I am very satisfied. My biggest smile is back.

...and just in time. In two weeks it will be Fleet Week. 10,000 sailors on shore leave in my neighborhood of trendy bars and dance spots. Time for the 4th annual Girl's Night Out event.

Posted by Red :: 8:06 AM :: |

Monday, April 11, 2005


6It's a true Monday. Complete with musings of the past weekend, hectic work schedule and the tinge of sunburn making the waist of my pants sting a bit.

I finally managed to get to the beach Saturday morning, though EH did his best to cling to sleep. The air was warm with a tropical breeze, the water was crystal clear and the sand was silky soft. It was lovely.

Saturday night was an illicit rendezvous with a dear friend in need of a favor. Not as tawdry as I made it sound, and EH knows the scoop. Interesting anyway. Dear friend was a perfect gentlemen, despite staring down my cleavage whenever he thought I wasn't looking, and after a few drinks, even when I was looking. It doesn't bother me. I know I have breasts. I rather like them. I display them in low cut or snug fitted tops and flattering bras or corsets. Look away, boys!

Later that night, I worked on getting my mojo back with EH. Not a total victory, but a definite improvement.

Sunday found us doing a bit of housework. I cut EH's hair. Shampooed, massaged the scalp, rinse, cut and style into the look I call "aging rock star". For the rest of the day, I just marveled in what a super-sexy husband I have.

Closer to good.

Next week, I take a major step in moving forward. I restore DSL connection to our home. It's become necessary due to work and many, many, MANY other opportunities that are presenting themselves to me - but I can't deny I feel a bit of fear. I'm looking at it as an opportunity in itself. I'm a smart girl...if EH misbehaves this time then he can pack up and leave. Second chances are worth considering, but a third chance...? Forget it.

Posted by Red :: 7:48 AM :: |

Friday, April 08, 2005

BANG BANG! Knock a little louder, sugar!

If opportunity was knocking the other day, now it is banging on my door. A huge prospective life change is seemingly within grasp and the first evidence of it being serious was delivered by email today. I'll have to prove once again that I can become an overnight expert on a software program, but it's going to be worth...well, everything.

It's another late night following a hard day. They swear I'm doing a great job and my volume is way above the others...

But now it's time to go have a weekend. Even if it involves some work too...

It's a new moon and with it, hopefully, some changes. The partial eclipse of the sun tonight was a goodbye of sorts to least, that's what my pagan soul whispers to me.

Posted by Red :: 8:01 PM :: |
"Check Out The Jugs On My Little Princess!"

Yes, my appearance on the blog has been less than sporadic. I've been in writing mode lately which means I have been mentally preoccupied. I get that way during writing bursts. Unlike some writers who get blocked and stare at a blank screen once my fingers are engaged the head swells with ideas and I get consumed.

So, about that title...
At work I have the radio going all day and on one show this week the subject of teenage sexuality came up and how much our country continues to sexualize our children at younger and younger ages. During the discourse I was amazed to hear some information regarding not how teens are consumed by sexuality but how adults--specifically their parents--are becoming the source of this mentality. The host mentioned that there is a trend in this country to reinvigorate the practice of celebrating the old "Sweet Sixteen" party for girls. In and of itself, not so bad.

What has me stunned however was this nugget: There are parents who, as a gift to their little darlings, are bringing their daughters to a plastic surgeon to give them enhancements as a birthday gift. I stared at the radio in disbelief. The Odd One and I are no prudes, but I was convinced that this was something taking place in isolated enclaves. Nope. My boss was nearby and I pointed at the radio and told him what I just heard. He placidly informed me that in his upperclass township this is a practice that has been taking place for quite some time. Then his son told me that when he was in school there were always girls who would be out of school for a week and then would return with a brand new balcony to show off to their classmates.

As a father of a nine year old I am stunned. We always talk with apprehension of the day our gal starts dating and how I'll be greeting her dates at the door like Michael Keaton in "Mr. Mom", chainsaw a-blazin. I cannot conceive a dad signing off on having his little girl proportioned like a Hooter's waitress. It used to be fathers would be proud of their sons on the football field, now they are bragging because their daughter nailed the quarterback??? What am I missing?

There is a radio spot out right now for the new Hummer that I identify with completely. A date shows up at the house and while he waits for the girl her father takes him in the garage to show off the truck, pointing out all the features, how it can traverse any terrain, and how large the bed is. He then informs the youth that there is more than enough room to fit his body in the back as the dad drives to any place he chooses. "Now what time will my daughter be home?" is the closing line. More succinct is my favorite line from the film "Clueless". As Cher is about to leave with her date her dad says curtly, "I have a gun, and a shovel. I doubt seriously anyone would miss you."

We plan on arming our daughter with things to help her navigate the psycho-sexual minefield: little things like self-esteem, knowledge, priorities, higher goals, and the like. How some parents are instead preparing their girls with the tools to acheive a cameo on a "Girls Gone Wild" video escapes me.

Posted by The Even Husband :: 7:19 PM :: |

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Lost Mojo! Reward if Found!

aIn The Spy Who Shagged Me, Austin Powers chases Dr. Evil to reaquire his stolen mojo. Towards the end, Felicity Shagwell, comforts Austin by telling him he had it all along.

I've lost my mojo too. Maybe it's the heart medication. Maybe it's stress. Maybe it's working too hard.

I understand that it's within me. I'm just trying to find a way to release it again. My brain says yes!. My body says sure! But the two are not connecting, thus...problem.

I can. I will. But right now, I'm not enjoying. WTF? There is no sensation. Flick a tongue over a tightly erect nipple and my brain says Woohoo! and my body says Ho hum...(yawn)

Regular readers, you know I am nothing short of sex-crazy. So now imagine me minus the's amazing I haven't freaked out more than this commentary of concern.

There's more weird stuff afoot than just a lost mojo...last night, something odd happened.

In the kitchen, puttering about with EH, I made a remark and he lightly smacked my ass. I asked him to do it again and harder and he did (reluctantly!). I asked for him to do it harder and again, he did. We've never been spankers. EH deplores even simulated violence against the woman he loves and it's never made sense to me...but...

That sting. The sharp crack of his hand against my skin. I fucking loved it. I wanted more. I wanted him to do it until he left furious red marks. I wanted that pain. I wanted to feel that sting again and again. I wanted all his strength behind it. I wanted it to hurt. What was that??? I don't understand it myself. EH will go along if I want it - but he'll never really enjoy it. He's just more interested in pleasing me than depriving me. On the other hand, I am seriously baffled by my own reaction to it. Where did that come from???

I miss being a sex-starved slut. I miss ravaging my husband. I miss him laughingly trying to fend me off. So, if you've seen my mojo lying about, will you please send it to me? I miss it.

I mentioned to EH that perhaps I should look into a libido increasing medication and he turned pale.

"You??? Honey, that scares me..."


"Just give me some warning, okay?"

"What? What do you mean?"

" - a few days to rest up, bulk up on vitamins, Powerade drinks, etc..."


"Babe, it'd be like taking a Ferrari off the blocks..."

I liked that. I want to be that girl again.

Posted by Red :: 7:54 AM :: |

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Don't Mess With Florida

Florida eyes allowing residents to open fire whenever they see threat

MIAMI (AFP) - Florida's legislature has approved a bill that would give residents the right to open fire against anyone they perceive as a threat in public, instead of having to try to avoid a conflict as under prevailing law.

Outraged opponents say the law will encourage Floridians to open fire first and ask questions later, fostering a sort of statewide Wild West shootout mentality. Supporters argue that criminals will think twice if they believe they are likely to be promptly shot when they assault someone.

Republican Governor Jeb Bush, who has said he plans to sign the bill, says it is "a good, commonsense, anti-crime issue."

Current state law allows residents to "shoot to kill if their property, such as their home or car, is invaded by an unknown assailant."

But it also states that if a resident is confronted or threatened in a public place, he or she must first try to avoid the confrontation or flee before taking any violent step in self defense against an assailant.

The bill, supported by the influential National Rifle Association, was approved by both houses of the Republican-run legislature on Tuesday.

(Ed. Note: My father taught me to shoot as a child by throwing Christmas light bulbs into the lake in his backyard and making me shoot until I sank them all...and to this day my aim is excellent...)

Posted by Red :: 5:53 PM :: |
I'm not that innocent...

bI've always been aware of a less than admirable trait that I possess. I call this character flaw my "firestarter" quality.

When there's gasoline soaked danger surrounding me, I light a match. When there's friction between two forces, I put a little pressure on to get the sparks flying and see what ignites. I turn up the heat. I have no idea why I do this, but I do it without thinking. Even more odd is that after the blaze I can look back and see the sheer brilliance in some of my moves. Almost as if subconsciously I knew the plan all along. Am I some kind of pawn of fate?

I tell you this because yesterday, I lit a match. I'm not sure what possessed me or where I am going with this, but I put the stick to the flint and struck.

In other news...I spoke to Mr. Opportunity last night and we had a very pleasant conversation about the business he is building. We're sort of feeling each other out to determine where this could head and I have no real expectations yet. We'll speak again on Thursday.

In bed, falling asleep, whispering in the dark to EH. Pleading with him to understand that physical passion in this relationship is what keeps me together and safe with him. Lack of it for extended periods of time is a huge danger sign. It's not something I can live without sanely. I hope he heard me. I really hope he heard me. I've been in this place before...I know where this path leads. He said he understood and that we needed some quality time together. I asked when and he said 'hopefully soon'.

I was really hoping he'd have a more solid response than that. "Soon" always seems like some distant promise, doesn't it?

Gasoline everywhere and me, a pyromaniac, with a book of matches left unattended...

Posted by Red :: 10:46 AM :: |

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Opportunity Knocks...

Opportunity knocked today...

Prior to my current job, I worked for my best friend's husband as his assistant for a national software company that services the mortgage industry. I loved my job and was loved by all levels of management. When they restructured, they tried to create positions to keep me on, even offering to relocate me to California - but it never quite worked out.

Today, an interesting email came my way. A new company is building offices across my state and a northern COLD state and is interested in hiring me as a full time trainer to travel to each center and train the staff. He would relocate me to an area very near where EH and I were hoping to move soon AND my salary would likely triple...

And I'd work from home again.


I responded to the businessman who reached me care of former bosses and we began a dialogue. My initial response seems to have really excited him and I'm intrigued! Building businesses from the ground up is a specialty of mine...I've done it 4 times and each one has been successful...(unfortunately I built other people's businesses and underpriced the hell out of myself).

It will be interesting to see where this leads.

Rocky homefront with EH and I...too much work, stress and lack of time to be intimate is taking a toll. It'll be interesting to see where THAT leads too...

Send me some positive vibes, darlings - will you???


Posted by Red :: 7:25 AM :: |

Monday, April 04, 2005

Soulshine Lyrics

When you can't find the light,
That got you through the cloudy days,
When the stars ain't shinin' bright,
You feel like you've lost you're way,
When those candle lights of home,
Burn so very far away,
Well you got to let your soul shine,
Just like my daddy used to say.

He used to say soulshine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Hey now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometime,
Got to let your soul shine, shine till the break of day.

I grew up thinkin' that I had it made,
Gonna make it on my own.
Life can take the strongest man,
Make him feel so alone.
Now and then I feel a cold wind,
Blowin' through my achin' bones,
I think back to what my daddy said,
He said "Boy, in the darkness before the dawn:"

Let your soul shine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Yeah now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta let your soul shine, shine till the break of day.

Sometimes a man can feel this emptiness,
Like a woman has robbed him of his very soul.
A woman too, God knows, she can feel like this.
And when your world seems cold, you got to let your spirit take

Let your soul shine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Lord now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta let your soul shine, shine till the break of day.

Oh, it's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Yeah now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometimes,
Gotta let your soul shine, shine till the break of

Posted by Red :: 8:06 AM :: |
Mad Science and Slow Dances

2So, the weekend wasn’t exactly how I planned, but it was still enjoyable in it’s own way…

There are men in my life who look at me and find me appealing. I always seem to be having fun, I’m loving and affectionate and always ready for sex…usually.

What they don’t see is that it takes a strong man to handle me. I’m not high maintenance, but I do tend to drain a man’s patience and energy with my quirks. Sometimes, I’m just too strange for them.

Saturday morning was an example. After a sexy wake-up with EH, I got it in my head to rush his sample to our microscope to check out his…erm, “little swimmers”. My own kind of science experiment. EH thought I was insane, but went along to please me. It was so cool to look through the lens and actually see little sperm moving about. I felt horrible as their movements slowed and I realized they were dying. EH was speechless as I cheered them on, calling encouragements to them. There’s something really powerful about seeing the origin of life so close to you. It was fun, but I have to admit that it also made me sad. I wondered about each and every little sperm I saw. What kind of child would it have made? Even as I tell myself and everyone else that I am content with our one daughter, it hurts a little too. I have had my heart set on a large family since I was about 6 years old. If I had the means and the ability, I’d want dozens of children. If I had the means, I would even look to adoption.

We spent Saturday night out dancing with S&M. We went to no less than 5 places. One of them was The Poorhouse, a favorite of mine. They do rock, blues and jazz. This night had a 2 man band playing and I wish I had gotten their name. They were fantastic. The lead singer has a sort of Kid Rock quality to him as he sang. He sang “Soul Shine” and it just held the entire place in a trance. I snuggled close to EH for a dance and let the words just wash over me…

“Soul shine…it’s better than sunshine, better than moonshine, and damned sure better than rain…”

Sunday night, I took a test again. Nada. I fucking hate that lonely pink line in the control panel sometimes. I was so sure this time might have been...

Posted by Red :: 7:57 AM :: |

Friday, April 01, 2005


Guilt has gotten the better of me. I'm such a wimp. Instead of revelling in the success of my little fib, I'm racked with guilt and feeling awful. I have to set the record straight right now so I can get on with my day.

The TGIF post was my April Fool's Day joke. I totally expected an outpouring of "No way!" instead of all this wonderful support and love. The emails were as loving as the comments and I honestly couldn't stand it anymore.

If I disappointed you, sorry. EH and I will not be starring in our own reality series anytime soon. I actually did get one email several weeks back suggesting some sort of article, but it wanted quite a bit of personal information to discuss it and I already have a stalker, so one more wasn't needed. It was deleted.

The busy work stuff was true. I'm swamped, but boistered by tremendous support and appreciation from my co-workers and boss/bosses/supervisors. The outfit description I am wearing today was accurate, minus the labels. I am wearing Ferragamo pumps, but I've owned them for years. The outfit's still super cute, but it's Merona, not DKNY. I'm too much of a bargain shopper to shell out for a label unless I discover it 'like new' in a bargain sale. Even when I have the cash, I'm less fashionable than a treasure hunter. My Ferragamo pumps came with original $300+ price tag in a little consignment shop for $9.95. I adore them 10x more because I 'discovered' them.

Don't be mad. We're still poor. :) But we're still in love! EH keeps beaming at me and saying proudly, "My wife!" as if re-confirming it. I don't know what that's all about, but it's working wonders on me.

The breast cancer post below is NOT a joke of any kind and I would deeply appreciate it if you would contribute by commenting there and spreading the word.


Posted by Red :: 6:13 PM :: |
Please comment...

Hi guys,

Please take 30 seconds to do this. Do it for me, for your wife, mother, best friend, sister, etc. Please. I am the daughter of a breast cancer survivor and the granddaughter of a breast cancer victim. I am the niece of cancer survivors. I fully expect to experience it myself someday.

This blog is the story of a man's love and loss of his wife to breast cancer one year ago today. The entire story is told in posts from beginning to end. I have tears pouring down my face. There is a comment-athon at this blog to raise money for breast cancer and I beg you to comment there and help the cause. Not only comment, but please, please share the link on your own blog and spread the word.

Odd Wife

Posted by Red :: 2:34 PM :: |
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