boobs again?

* I dare you to tell me to walk through fire *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I went to the movies the other day to see Ghosts of Girlfriends Past. Excellent movie. I laughed. I cried. Mostly I remembered why I have a *fuck love* philosophy. I have also determined that I am Connor Mead's female equivalent. I totally agreed with all his rules & ended up chuckling through most of the movie as I recalled performing some of those very same moves, with exactly the same results.

After the movie neither of us wanted to use the theatre restrooms, so we traipsed giddily across the plaza the use the mall facilities. Along the way we discussed the hitches in our choices of relationships through the ways. She actually asked me what I look for in a guy for a relationship. Yeah hello...
me = ass backwards in guy world
Don't we all know this already??

*somehow* this turns into talking about my boobs. I wonder, is there ever a conversation where my boobs don't play a prominent role? Um no. Oh yes, I remember how we got on the subject of my lovely bodice, I caught my dear special friend checking herself out in the reflections of the store front windows. Huh. Anyway, the moment I call her out on it she retorts, "yeah, well you're in love with your boobs." Approxamitely 7 pairs of teenage boys eyes land directly on my chest .02 seconds after she delivered that line. Have I mentioned she has impeccable timing?

And yes of course, now that she mentions it, I do check out my own boobs, and yes I love them.

smiling alone

I walked downtown tonight. I stood on the plaza as the band beat their tunes into the evening. I watched across the street as the fireworks from the ball game illuminated the night sky. I felt the coarsing notes of music combined with the booming fireworks. I stood alone. And I smiled.

nonsense

I dreamed a dream
I was floating in the sea
bobbing for apples
In an ocean of only pears

I dreamed a dream
I was walking in the dark
I tried to reach you
a scream stopped me short

Is there nothing but ridiculous dreams and darkness? A "you" that doesn't exist yet traipses through the clouds wafting into my head, tripping on reality.

tmi from me to you

Random conversation, because you know you wanna read this.

April & I are waiting for our friend Belinda to join us at Deer Park tonight. Apparently we are growing. Sweet!

So as we're waiting... we're talking. About a certain someone. I don't have a someone to talk about, but she's talking. And bites her lip seductively. And bats her eyelashes dreamily.

Did I mention we are the only two females, beside the bartender Caitlyn, and there are several HOTT guys sitting around?

"Please don't bite your lip and bat your eyes at me. Guys are looking."
She laughs. I laugh. She pauses giggling long enough to say, "not all is lost."
"Yeah. I know."
.... she stares blankly ...
"Some guys are turned on by that"
"I can't believe I'm a part of your shenanigans."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While choosing what to wear out tonight, I grabbed a black halter top that I haven't worn since last fall. It's dressy. Silky.
*Flashy*
I normally wear a strapless bra with it. There's simply no way to wear a regular bra and let's face it, for the prior 10 years, my girls have been way too big to go without some support. On a whim I tried it on without a bra... It worked! And it looked so DAYUM good. Except for one wee tiny little thing....

The fuzzies. I have waxed my armpits but I jumped the gun and I did it sooner than the recommended 21 days of growth so not EVERY lil hair has been pulled. I can probably count 10 under each arm. I told April this and she squinted her eyes with tears.

I also mentioned that I'm wearing my chicken suit.

Let's clarify this one.
*sigh*
I have some chubby issues. On the days that I want to feel, well, not chubby & jiggly, I wear a tummy tamer that goes from knee to pretty much bra line. It sucks everything into place, as much as possible that is. My daughter once saw me putting it on & she declared it looked like a chicken suit. Thus it was so.

Before I can finish telling her that I'm wearing my chicken suit, she says, "Yeah, I know."
.... I paused perplexed ...
"You know?"
"Yeah. I can tell."
The conversation ensued as I attempted to determine if it was really doing it's job, holding my jigglies down, lifting my bottom, slimming my hips and sides....

No. It changes my attitude. Apparently I'm more open, flirty, aggressively friendly when I'm donning the chicken suit. All this equals to ... it inflates my ego.
At least that's what I'm thinking that she's getting at.
NOPE. Not quite.
See, the secret is, I don't do any ... uh ... extra-curricular activities ... because really, who wants to peel off a chicken suit to get naked? Thus I can flirt & not have to worry about going too far because I always reel myself back in knowing that I don't want to reveal my secret (as I have just done here, only without the actual visual).

I love how she knows me. Now excuse me. I must go re-apply my eye make-up. We laughed so hard we cried. She cried. I cried. It happens.

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Daydream Believer by the Monkeys comes on the satellite radio. My mom used to sing this song to me because of the line "Cheer up, sleepy Jean. Oh, what can it mean. To a daydream believer.." because my middle name is Jean. April just made the song oh so special. She sang to me something about "Triana's weirdness" in the song lyrics.

As I'm writing this, she confesses that she never knew the words to that song. She always thought it was "cheer up sweepy be jean" ... OMFG I cannot stop laughing. She finishes it with "hey the world is different when you're half deaf."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Hurley hands us each a pack of peanuts. I rip mine open. She slips hers over by her purse and says she'll save hers for the ride home. John says we'll have elephant breath. I didn't get it, then suddenly lost it laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We started discussing the karaoke night ahead of us. Neither of us sing. Me because it's just not a pleasant experience for my fellow patrons. Her because of stage fright. John says he has a karaoke system at his house that we can practice at. He also says he has lots of duets so she'll need someone to practice with, as he nods towards me. Hey! That'll work! April always says I act manly! :)

On that note, I'm going to slowly sip my Killians and try to catch my breath. Oh, and I still have to check to see if I have eyeliner & mascara trailing wearily down my red cheeks that are now sore from non-stop laughter.

subliminal

« Feel me trembling, feel me fuckin shake »
(maybe one day I'll be enough)
* til then, I'll live vicariously *
> comfy in my stone prison <
{ my weakness is my fear }

Funny how through the years certain songs remind you of people who have whisped through your life, good or bad... Sometimes it's so completely random that it makes absolutely no sense to me. Here are a few of mine: [the one time in my life I'm going to err on the side obscurity, I'm only posting song titles, and probably going to abbreviate some names or even use nicknames, but I may throw in a few links to relevant posts]
Congratulations ... J. Lake
Mary Jane's Last Dance ... Wing Seeker
It's Not Over ... UPIC
Spiderweb ... Kristy
Opiate ... Curt
Last Kiss ... Jason C
Crazy Bitch ... Jason Hobbs
Stop and Stare ... Thom F
Chicken Hunting ... Josh Ogg
Friends ... Jay
Tennessee ... CD
Time of Your Life ... Pamy
Lips of an Angel ... N. Stanley
The Boy is Mine ... Kaci
Hot & Cold ... Mikel
Fishing in the Dark ... Ed
This Kiss ... The Barn Cat *** I feel compelled to explain this ... I was 17, madly in love, my boyfriend turns to me as the songs is playing, holding my hand, looks into my deep blue eyes and tells me this song reminds him of me. I momentarily became overwhelmed by him, which he completely reversed as he followed it up with, "it's full of big words that I don't understand." Great. I remind him of Faith Hill not because I'm beautiful or the kissing lyrics makes him think of me, he's tripped up over:
"It's a feeling like this
It's centrifugal motion
It's perpetual bliss
It's that pivotal moment
It's (ah) subliminal"

I'm so exciting.

et cetera

What an interesting weekend! For starters, Friday I had my 10yr old daughter wax my arm pips. Yep, I did it. She loved it. Who doesn't want to rip hair from your mother's armpits?? Bingo!

After that I spent the night sippin beer around the fire in the back yard to kill the fact that my sensitive parts just had every hair ripped out by a gleeful child.

Of course, kids were in bed. Almost. My 9 year old son startled the hell outta me by screaming at the top of his lungs for no apparent reason. I ran into the room, no child smuglers... He pants tearfully that he's scared. Um hello, of what?! The only child of mine that hasn't ever been scared of the dark is now screaming banshee style. I reassured him that I am, in fact, wayyyy scarier than ANYthing that he could possibly imagine. It worked. He went straight to sleep.

Saturday:
Chinese for lunch
Headwaters Park with the kidlets
Again with the beer at the campfire along with some tasty 'mallows & chocolate perfectly smamwiched between goodnessy grahams.

Sunday:
Bailey's 2nd bday... catch up with Sandy after being separated for a year. Still the same story. My kids stayed the night with her kids. I went back home & guess what I did?!?!

If you guessed beer & fire, you win! Grab a cookie!!

Monday:
Didn't go to work!! YES! Love the holiday!! Slepttttttt in... Till nearly Noon, just cuz I could do that. Eventually managed to rescue my rugrats from the Slider residence and deliver them to the mistake that devoured my life for all too long. Then guess what?

CLOSE! But a lil different this time. Bree Olsen anyone? Yes please. Partied Super Star style with the one and only lovely and a select few of our friends. Gave up the beer for the night, replaced it with 151.

I did take a time out for dinner at Biaggi's with April ... my early dinner feast! Shhhh, don't tell but I actually convinced her to come back to the party, woot woot! She played the wonderful role of delivering drunks to their homes :)

Ahhhh... all this partying and I haven't even made it to my big day of dread. Ooops, I mean my big day of FUN! [Because after oh, say 25, we just all love turning one year after the other]

do your thing

is it Monday? Feels like it.

Today I wore a cute white & silver striped sweater to work. While at my desk being Super Triana and doing a million things at once, I added a packet of raspberry peach flavoring to my bottle of water, typed a note into the insurance screen, grabbed my bottle of now RED water and shook it.

Do you see where this is going? …. white sweater … red drink … shaking …

Yep, you probably guessed it. I went from Super Triana to Wonder Triana in .02 seconds. I didn’t twist the cap in my haste to type my note in when the insurance rep came back on, then inadvertently grabbed the bottle & shook.

Amazingly, I didn’t do the up and down shake which would have plastered the red liquid into my shirt. Instead I did the wrist twist and merely covered my boss’s reports with burst of red liquid splashed across like a kindergartner in art class.

I don’t know why they keep me here. Comic relief? Probably.

Last week on my way to the coffee station for some hot water to add to my mocha mix, my boss stopped me to chit-chat as I walked past her office. I get fidgety, because that is what I do… When I get fidgety, I do odd things. For instance…

You remember back when you were a kid (or maybe still are) when it was entertaining to suction cup a mug to your face by inhaling the oxygen from the cup? Know what I’m talking about?

Don’t do that with a mug full of mocha powder. The sudden vacuum followed by the release causes the powder to … well … *poof* everywhere. My boss nearly died laughing. I had mocha powder in a ring around my mouth & down the front of my blouse where it wafted as I stood there in disbelief & horror. I was blowing chocolate snot out of my nose until the next day. Not good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night April & I ventured to Switta Thai to eat dinner. I wore a tank top because the weather was B-E-A-utiful. I forewarned her that I’m going to wax my arm “pips” and therefore have a tiny bit of growth going on. She disgustedly ask me why I wore a tank top w/hairy arm pits. Well, I’ve done worse, and it wasn’t even noticeable until I pointed it out.

Later we decided we wanted to shoot some pool. As we’re getting out of her van she stops short & exclaims to me, “How are you going to play pool with hairy arm pits?!” Well you know, I thought I’d just braid it & tuck it under my bra straps. HELLO! Not to mention the fact that she just asked me that, loudly, in a crowded parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night while relaxing at Deer Park after April had left for the night, a random middle aged man, walks by, glances at me, stops & says, “have you done any more episodes of your tv show?” Uhhhh, excuse me? I flustered a bit. He steps a bit more toward me saying, “You were on that local channel … you and another dark haired girl that was sitting here earlier. Are you working on another one?"

Shiiiiiiit.... that was months ago, and he recognized me? Gravy train!