Thursday, March 29, 2007

but my computer decided to commit suicide off my bathroom counter...


Why did I have the computer in the bathroom?



fine, I was playing a game while on the potty. It's really not my
fault the damn thing was so addictive I took it in the bathroom with

Oh know you say "potty" too...

Changing the subject.....I know I haven't posted for awhile, and to the
two of you that still read...I'm very sorry. I'm just trying to figure
out a balance to work, life, a man, and my sanity. I'll get a hang of
it soon...I think...

Observations from the Edge
Tuesday, March 20, 2007

As I was visiting the corner office the day before last, the writing on
the wall started to speak to me.

In fact it said, "Seat Covers for Your Protection". "Quantity 1000".

I had just used the last one.

As I am sitting there contemplating this, it occurs to me that if I am
using the last seat cover, then nine hundred and ninety nine other
behinds had graced this particular throne...

Somehow a flimsy piece of tissue paper hardly seems adequate.

My coworkers look at me funny as I take my roll of aluminum foil to the
restroom now...

But who will have the last laugh really? Ohhhh, I think you know!

The Academy
Thursday, March 15, 2007

I didn’t really want to be here. Here being this run down building that looked like someone had locked the doors at a days end, shoving the keys in his jacket pocket, his mind already on dinner as he drove away, never remembering to return.

We pulled up in front of the faded brick gymnasium. The walnut colored covered walkway that led from the gym to the chapel acting the umbrella to weeds and grass that snuck through the concrete path. I watched fascinated as nuns garbed in full habit walked to the buildings in the distance. The black of their robes making them seem to float, lending a sense of surreal to an already imaginative canvas.

Somewhere behind us the bustle of life as I knew it droned on unknowingly. The roar of traffic, muffled and subdued behind trees and overgrowth, lent a soundtrack that was echoed gleefully by crickets and the cackle of birds. This was a place that spoke to me in hushed voices. It was neither here nor there, neither heaven nor earth. At thirteen, “between” was a state of being I knew all to well.

“Come on Kara.” My mother climbed out of our tan station wagon, the leather seats squeaking as she hurried to meet the caretaker waiting at the edge of the building. I scrambled out my side, relishing the slam of the door as it whipped my mothers head back to me. I watched her face tighten on words of chastisement. Swallowing them, she sighed, shaking her head as she walked away from me, leaving me to follow, or not.

These little things, the slamming of doors, my heavy sighs, moments of soaring happiness followed yapping at its heels by crushing sadness; they confused even me. I didn’t know where the churlishness of my tongue came from or how to stop words that seemed to fly from my mouth with wings of their own. I wondered briefly how I could enjoy watching her struggle to bite back her words; yet hate myself for it at the same time.

Pushing out my own sigh, I hunched my shoulders forward in such a way that my dishwater blond hair swung forward to obscure my eyes. I followed my mother into the building at a snails pace, discount barrel sneakers shuffling along below me, creating puffs of dirt clouds as I went.

The moment I stepped inside, the dim lighting settled about my shoulders like a cloak. My hair fell away from my eyes as I lifted my chin to watch the dust from a thousand days of forgetfulness float into the sporadic beams of sunlight like small fairies in a glen. The slam of doors echoed down quiet corridors, startling me with their imagined boom. Shouts of boys long turned to men tumbled down from the rafters, winging past me in swooshes of sound. I could smell the pages from school books gone and moldered and hear the clatter and bustle of a school going about its day to day.

I stood frozen in the entrance way of the old Catholic boy’s school. My stomach deep and quivering as a feeling of anticipation climbed with tickling talons up my spine, settling with nervous jitters at the back of my throat.

The world I had known had been thrust aside with gleeful abandon. I watched helpless as the past reached out for me with hands gnarled and smelling of mothballs and tobacco. I lifted a quivering hand in response, palm up, taking hold of something I didn’t understand, didn’t need to. Something that had waited years for someone like me, a person caught in-between…just like it.

****To Be Continued****

Was It Good For You??
Wednesday, March 07, 2007

My days of trembling in dread and fear are over...
I asked for it and boy I got it. However, I think the bruises are only superficial and I kinda like the spanking anyways.

So head on over to Ask and You Shall Recieve to see my little slice of ass chewing! I promise to be here waiting when you get back...writing my novel about doing laundry...

It's Official...I Am NOT A Virgin!
Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Yes, I have found a man.

He’s mine. I've bought and paid for him with coupons out of the lonely hearts club flyer. Mama said coupon clipping would save me a lot of money sooner or later… I can stop going to get milk when I have a jug already in the fridge, just so I can ogle the cute clerk.



Actually,…..O.K., I can stop…but really, will I???.

Let’s see, what can we call my guy? I’m up for suggestions because throwing down his real name would be tantamount to waving a red flag in the face of the bull we call fate. In fact writing this down in the blogverse is giving me the heebie jeebies of impending doom.

Did you hear that? I believe it was the earth’s core cracking…


Here are some details.

We met online…yes, I know...lame. However, it was NOT at a dating site. The first time we met was for a drink and he showed up with flowers….FLOWERS. I was with Kendell’s father for two years, gave birth to his son, and got flowers ONCE.
I’ve been with….you know who...for a month and have gotten flowers TWICE. I don’t know about you, but the math works better for me with this guy.

We have gone out to eat, played putt putt golf, I’ve been cooked for, I have cooked for, and we have watched much American Idol together. Only thing left is to rob a convenience store together and call each other “Ma” and “Pa”….personally, I prefer “Daddy”…as in, "Spank me again Daddy" hehe.

We have been dating a month come this Friday where we are celebrating by doing things to each others bodies that are illegal in at least 50 states.

What? I’ll have you know that painting someone up as a traffic cone is highly frowned upon by your local deputy sheriff!

He’s great with Kendell, going as far as playing Xbox with him for over an hour, something I consider akin to having my fingernails ripped out at the roots with dirty pliers by an evil looking man with boogers hanging from his nose. He can’t wait for Kendell’s baseball season and is already planning on taking him fishing.

He sends me a “good morning” text EVERY morning.

He’s affectionate, soft spoken, hard working, and he had me at “I don’t live with my mother and I have my own car and a job”….

Hmmmmm, what can I say? He’s lucky I didn’t run in the opposite direction screaming “It’s a pod person, no man in their 30’s is this normal!!”

They Call Him Doctor Love
Friday, March 02, 2007

I love my son’s new pediatrician. Love, love, love him!

Uh…that is…in a strictly non usage of rubber gloves way, of course.

Hmmm, not that I would use rubber gloves during normal fluid swapping.

Eek…not that I'm swapping fluid of any sort!…



What was I saying??

Oh Yeah…
We recently switched to a smaller practice when the one we had been using since Kendell's birth decided Medical World Domination was on their ten year plan.

In contrast, our new doctor is kind, remembers our names, doesn't shake us upside down for spare change, and most importantly, thorough. However, I had yet to experience the other doctors in this new practice....until recently. (dum da dum dum dummmmmmmm.) (You can just feel the foreshadowing can’t ya!)

His white hair, just a bit long, looked like the soft wings of a dove. His smile was welcoming and jolly. When he talked, he sucked you in like a not so bright child with their tongue stuck to a frozen flag pole. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, intently listening to the advice he dished out like chocolate covered cherries. He had my attention, 100%.

I was making mental notes and thinking how nice this doctor is, how he seemed to be so interested in Kendell’s welfare, so interested that he was just as intently looking back at me…
Wait…that’s not my eyes he’s looking in.
In fact, he wasn't looking anywhere close to my eyes.
“What in the hell is he looking at?” I asked myself. “Is he cross eyed? Oh no…NO WAY!”
His eyes were locked onto my modest cleavage like a scud missile with its target in sight. I could almost see the countdown to impact clicking away in his brain.

As he turned away to look at the charts, I seized the break in his visual caresses to tuck the fabric of my V-neck t-shirt INTO my cleavage.
Yes, I tucked it IN. What? You expect rocket science??? I was desperate!

He turns back and begins to speak to the girls again, when it dawns on him that I have sent them away for their own protection. His eyes painstakingly crawl up my torso till they reach my eyes, exhausted by the effort; he seems slightly disorientated but manages to finish talking about my sons tummy aches.

I exit, stage left, as soon as I can escape the grandfatherly Lothario; hightailing my ass, Kendell, and the girls, back home to my non cleavage invading domicile.

It wasn't till I got home that I realized that Doctor Love forgot to even bother to check Kendell’s tummy….

Note to self…wear same top when being pulled over for speeding…
...and job interviews
...and first dates
...court appearances
...Fuck!...I'm never taking this shirt off!

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  • Name:Kara
  • Location: Tacoma, Washington, United States
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