Sunday, April 30, 2006

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate dieting? Generally I hate depriving myself of anything and now I have to deprive myself of hot sex for the sake of morals and all.

No. It's not that. It's just so sleazy. The whole on again, off again bullshit with Stairmaster has been about sex. It's how and why we met and it can never be anything else. There can't be a relationship built on sex. Unless the people in the relationship are one dimensional, which I know that I am not. I don't know about The Stairmaster. Perhaps he is one dimensional. I don't know anymore. I don't want to care anymore. I never cared for him so much, but I cared about him. Whatever. Now he's made me his dirty little secret and I'm not having it. He said he wouldn't ever let her know and I told him that whoever she is, it would be a big mistake to come see me. He thought that was funny at first, but I let him know that if she ever comes looking for me, she'll be getting a big surprise. I didn't start this, but if she comes around I'll end it. He finally seemed to get it. He just kept saying she'll never know.

Like I'm gonna fucking trust him.

Yesterday when I got out of the shower he was in the bathroom. Scared the shit out of me. He said he was waiting for me to get dressed and go so he could bring his crew in to continue with the work. I told him I gave away all his tools on Craigslist, but he didn't believe me. He was trying really hard to keep his eyes at my eye level. He didn't. I just put my hands on my hips and told him to get an eyeful because it was the last time. He just rolled his eyes. Sometimes I wish I could become a man just for a little while so that I could kick another man's ass. But only if I could switch back to being a girl before I had to pee.

The really fucked up part is that my place just keeps looking better and better.

Where are all my new escrows? Where are all my ready, willing, and able clients who are desperate to get into a house this minute? Where are all my sweet, reasonable, rational, loyal clients? Where?

I'm insane. It's okay to ignore me.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 10:34 PM
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Friday, April 28, 2006

Stairmaster just left. He came over to take more measurements and finish filling up the holes. He was acting kind of weird, avoiding eye contact and stuff. I went up and held his hand and he kissed me. We made out a little bit and then I tried to pull him into my bedroom and he wouldn't go. I asked him what was wrong and he just said "I can't". I asked him why and he said he'd promised that he would behave. I asked him who he made this promise to and he said his girlfriend.

What a pig.

We had a huge fight. I don't know what to do now. My place is only half done. I should know better than to sleep with the worker. I asked him who he was dating and he said no one. I asked him about that and he just said "I lied". That's it? That's your explanation. Then he just put his head down and he said "I really wanted to fuck you". Yeah, well you sure did.

Who's going to finish my place now? I'm so upset I could scream. I called Ben and he just said "Make it quick, I'm enroute to Trauma". I said I was just calling to say hi. He said hi and hung up.

I hate my life. Just kidding. I hate my sex life. I'd say that I hate my love life, but I don't have one. I should get one. I should get a love life.

I hate dieting. I hate The Stairmaster. And who the fuck is this girlfriend and why is she letting him come to my house at 9pm to "fill holes"?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 11:55 PM
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Thursday, April 27, 2006

Stairmaster came over last night to fill up the little nail holes in the moulding. At first it was nice, me making dinner, him doing his work. Then the conversation turned and we were flirting.

When he went to leave he gave me a hug and I looked up at him and he kissed me. I knew he wasn't leaving so I pulled him into my room and we had mad crazy sex. It was so great. It was exactly what we both needed. It's not just that he's good, it's that he's so attentive to my needs. He does everything I want him to without even asking. It's like we have sex sign language. If he's doing something that's not really comfortable I just pull away from him ever so slightly and he shifts. He knows when I'm responding, too. This is a big mistake most guys make. When they realize that a girl is responding they always kick it into high gear. It's like they figure faster and harder is always better. Big mistake. They need to just keep the pace. We have double the nerve endings they do. The rougher the better is not something most girls would say.

So I don't know what this means. I don't know if it will ever happen again. I know he's not the one because my dad told me and I think that if your dad comes back from the grave to tell you to not get heart set on someone, you better just listen. I know he's just a funboy, but oh boy is he fun.

What's wrong with me? Where are all my new clients? Where is my life?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 11:45 AM
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Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Work, work, work. It does the body and the soul good. I hate dieting. It's just the word "die" with a typographical error at the end.

I found out some interesting gossip about Henry Rollins today. Actually, it's about his family. Yes, it would seem he has some kind of connection somewhere. Apparently, my fiance is partly Russian Jew. I so had a feeling. One of my friends is kind of a Henry lookalike, if Henry had a skinny, hairy little brother. He's a Russian Jew, too. And I find out they're from the same area of Russia. Weird.

I came across the info so randomly. The guy shows pictures of the old town in Russia and he talks about Hank's great grandfather and where his great grandmother used to live. He reports they all got out just in time and emigrated to Wisconsin. The guy says 5000 Jews were killed in one day and they are all buried in a massive grave that's now become a greenbelt. How horrible. I knew Hank's dad was from Wisconsin and had taught at the U in Madison. I don't know anything else about him except that he was in the military and wrote some obscure scientific stuff. My friend said she came across some research Hank's mom had written during her days with the NAACP. Okay, that's all I got. It's such random gossip, but I had to blog it.

The market has finally taken the turn everyone's been waiting for and my boss is all over me. We've felt the pinch, but we're still number one in the office. I'm actually number ten and I'm above a lot of the big hitters. Isn't that kind of crazy? I don't really care about any of that crap. I wouldn't have found out about it if my boss hadn't told me. She so competitive and I so don't care. Just give me the cash and I'll be on my way.

I have no closings for May. That means I'll have to kick twice the ass for June. My boss is all over my ass with "Why do you think you're not doing as well as before? What could you be doing better?" It almost makes me not want to meet my goals because then she'll expect me to surpass them all the time. She's just a perfectionist and a micromanager to the extreme. I swear, if she got to Heaven she'd be counseling the The Powers That Be with how to make it even more blissful and everlasting.

I am listening to Henry right now. I couldn't stand going to the loft. Brigid and her man are so in love and it kind of makes me sick. It's hard for me to watch Ben and Cait and Brigid and her man and Mr. and Mrs. Steve. Everyone seems paired up. Then little Miss Do Little called to tell me that she's single, too. She wanted to offer me support and solidarity. It was heartfelt, but for someone in Kindergarten to be offering support and solidarity to a girl with a Ph.D. in Failed Relationships and Eternal Aloneliness, it was just absurd really.

Stairmaster has been working on my place here and I want to tie him to my bed and have my way with him, but I've been strong. I've been strong against the temptation of the juicy kisses and caressing hands. I've squeezed my eyes shut and wished away all carnal thoughts of tongue and skin. He's coming back tomorrow to start painting. You should all see my mouldings and baseboards. This place is getting the attention it deserves. I haven't told him yet, but I'm having him paint the cabinets and walls in the kitchen, too. I hope he's cool with that.

I hope he doesn't make bedroom eyes at me. Pray for me brothers and sisters, that I remain strong in the face of temptation. Pray for my poor sensual soul that it will not succumb to the entrapments of the flesh. God, I just want to rumple the sheets with him. But the afterglow is always such a drag. We always have a great time taking each other's breath away and then as soon as we get it back we use it argue and spit bitterness on each other. No, thanks.

I still have so much weight to lose and so much money to earn before I'll be worthy of the love they say I deserve. Who will be my one and only? Who will be my everyday guy? Who will be my allnight man? I don't know. That's why I'm Henry Rollins' fiancee. We're getting married just as soon as he stops touring for good. As if. Hank's ashes will go on tour as The Spoken Word From Beyond The Grave. He'll tour the afterlife with Joe Cole and The Ramones. Joe Strummer and D. Boone will play, too.

Okay, I have to go now. I'm kind of in a bitchy mood. I miss my friends. I miss having some time to myself. I haven't read a book in months. I'm very tired. I wish I had a whole weekend to myself to just relax and read.

I'm an ungrateful idiot. Forgive me.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 9:06 PM
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Wednesday, April 19, 2006

I have something to confess. Since I've joined this new team and received my first commission check I've been spending money like it's nothing. I bought myself some jewelry, some new clothes, a lot of new shoes and purses. I've paid everyone back and am knocking down the bills, but that's not the same.

I've been shopping. I'm not just talking about shopping, I'm talking SHOPPING shopping. I bought new towels, new linens, a new camera, a DVD player, an iPod, bras and panties, new sunglasses, and pillows for the house.

Stairmaster is coming over this weekend to paint and put up moulding and baseboards. I'm having the sofas recovered and new vinyl put down in the kitchen and bathroom. Then I'm done. Done and done.

Here's what I've discovered. Shopping is kind of boring. I didn't know it was. Yes, I did. I mean I knew, but I had forgotten because it had been so long. When you have a project and you're shopping for the project, that's fun. Like when I was shopping for Ben's loft. That was a blast.

I already knew what to tell Stairmaster to get because I'd been thinking about redoing the house for so long. I knew exactly what I wanted. Shopping just to spend time and money is lame and boring. It's lonesome, too. I tried to get Rhonda to go and she said she wasn't packing up Mr. Baby just to go waste time and money with me. Rude, but true.

There's nothing I need. Nothing. I have it all. And yes, to the holier than thou assholes who've emailed, I have sent money to the WM3 and will continue to do so not that it's any of your fucking business.

Anyway, shopping is boring. I don't know how all those dumb girls do it. Guys do it, too. I have to find a financial planner. Someone who takes on special cases like me.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:44 PM
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Wednesday, April 12, 2006

My niece is here again. She's so sweet. I hate her grandmother. She's the devil. As a reward for being so kind in the face of evil, I bought us both tickets to see Rollins play the Henry Miller gig in Big Sur. I'm flying up Saturday afternoon, we'll see the show, and then I'll fly back to do open house first thing Sunday morning. It should be stellar.

We were watching him on DVR last night. She's so funny. Oh, Auntie. Henry is so funny. He's so smart. He's so cool. He's so handsome for an older guy. Older guy? Well, technically. So then, what does that make me?

Hello? Yes, I'd like more information on your Botox therapy. How much? Will you suck my toes while you're at it?

Stairmaster will be doing a fabulous makeover on el apartamento while I'm doing showings and open houses on the weekends. It'll be great. Every day I'll come home and stuff will be done. He's going to paint, put up molding, change out the front door, put a security screen on, and finally, finally put up my shelves. Bliss can be bought, kids. Happiness is within reach if you have the cash.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 9:33 PM
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Tuesday, April 04, 2006

My niece is on her way down here. She insists on visiting her grandmother. I always try to put a stop to this kind of madness, but it just brings up that whole free will and empirical knowledge thing.

My house is such a mess. It's not just a mess. It's actual filth. I bought a new computer. Shag wrote down for me what to buy and I did. I've been adding my entire music collectio to my iTunes library. The old dinosaur laptop is sitting in the middle of the living room. I wish I could just throw it in the recycling bin. Is that allowed? I have no idea what to do with it. I'm listening to Henry and cleaning my disgusting hovel.

I have three active escrows, but nothing new. I'm not worried. I refuse to get worried about anything. I just want to get my house clean and myself clean and I just realized I have no food in the house for the niece. I so wish we had better delivery out here in the LBC. I've started using Vons.com and Papa John's all the time. I have to knock off the Papa John's or Homeland Security will come busting in my door.

Speaking of, apparently it's official: Homeland Security is full of child molesting rapists. What a bunch of useless motherfuckers. Oh, let me stop. Let me just go clean my disgusting house.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 8:06 PM
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Sunday, April 02, 2006

My sister came down to visit the dead. She and her husband had to attend a funeral so they figured they might as well go see that thing that gave birth to me. It was a bloodbath. They had breakfast with my other sister and her husband and then they came by my open house and I bought them dinner after.

Apparently the thing was in a car accident that's left her pretty bad off. Too bad her mouth still works. My niece will be coming down on Tuesday to help take care of her. Of course after she takes care of the thing, I'll have to help her wash the stench off her soul.

I can't get my iTunes to work and I'm too ashamed to call anyone for help.

I miss Ben.

I hate dieting.

I can't wait to go to France this summer.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 9:35 PM
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Saturday, April 01, 2006

I just got done setting up my new computer. I have no idea what to do with the old one. I'll call Shag and see if there's anything he can do with it. The whole night I was setting up this new computer and transferring all the files from the old one and the laptop onto this new one. It was a drag, but I'm happy with this new setup.

The whole time I was doing it I was on the phone with Shug and Eng and Bibi. Shug is in Boston visiting. They are all so hilarious. Eng's on the phone with me telling me what an overprotective mother Bibi is and then next Bibi's on the line complaining about how Eng is such a player. Then Shug gets on there to talk about all the great food he's had since he's been in Beantown. They're all nuts.

I've just been warned that The Center of the Known Universe is relocating to Santa Cruz. I'm not sure if it will be a generally positive impact or not. For now I will only say that I'm bracing myself for the collision.

Last night I went with some of The Crew to the ImprovOlympics on Hollywood. It was a pretty good show. We walked down to the Coffee Bean and passed the Chinese on the way. There was a premier for something called ATI. I have no idea what or who and I really don't care. I can't. I don't have time to give a crap.

One of Sandee's girls is having a birthday tomorrow. There's no way I can go. I have showings all day. I refuse to buy kids toys anymore. I've just kind of hit a wall with it, morally. She needs new shoes. Would it be wrong to give a child a prepaid Visa card? I hope not.

I'm tired. I still need to lose a million bazillion pounds before I go to Paris. I'm looking forward to it. Paris, of coure. Not the dieting. Never the dieting. How can ano's stand it? It really must be a mental illness.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:09 AM
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