ONE BRICK SHY

  *** It's been a long week.

  *** Burnt Hair, Fried Ass and Baked Cat. An Atlanta Summer

Dear Diary:

May 30th:

Just moved to the South...Now Georgia is a state that knows howto live!! Beautiful sunny days and warm balmy evenings. What a place!Watched the sunset from the lake lying on a blanket. It wasbeautiful. I've finally found my home. I love it here!

June 14th:

Really heating up. Got to 100 today. Not a problem. Live in an air-conditioned home, drive an air-conditioned car. What a pleasure to see the sun on the water everyday like this. I'm turning into a sun worshipper.

June 30th:

Had the backyard landscaped with western plants today. Lots of cactusand rocks. What a breeze to maintain. No more mowing lawn for me. Another scorcher today, but I love it here.

July 10th:

The temperature hasn't been below 100 all week. How do people get usedto this kind of heat? At least it's kind of windy though. But gettingused to the heat and humidity is taking longer that I expected.

July 15th:

Fell asleep by the pool. (Got 3rd degree burns over 60% of my body.)Missed 3 days of work. What a dumb thing to do. I learned my lessonthough. Got to respect the ol' sun in a climate like this.

July 20th:

I missed Morgan (our cat) sneaking into the car when I left for workthis morning. By the time I got to the hot car for lunch, Morgan haddied and swollen up to the size of a shopping bag and stank up the $2,000leather upholstery. I told the kids that she ran away. The car now
smells like Kibbles and shits. I learned my lesson though. No more petsin this heat.

July 25th:

The wind sucks. It feels like a giant freaking blow dryer!! And it'shot as hell. The home air-conditioner is on the fritz and the A/Crepairman charged $200 just to stop by and tell me he needed to order parts.

July 30th:
Been sleeping outside by the pool for 3 nights now. $1,500 in damnhouse payments and we can't even go inside. Why did I ever come here?

August 4th:

It's 105 degrees. Finally got the air-conditioner fixed today. It cost $500 and gets the temperature down to 85, but this freaking humidity makes the house feel like it's about 95. Stupid repairman pissed in my pool. I hate this stupid city.

August 8th:

If another wise ass cracks, "Hot enough for you today?", I'm going to strangle him. Damn heat. By the time I get to work the radiator isboiling over, my clothes are soaking wet, and I smell like baked cat!!

August 9th:

Tried to run some errands after work. Wore shorts and sat on the black leather seats in the ol' car. I thought my ass was on fire. I lost two layers of flesh and all the hair on the back of my legs and ass!Now my car smells like burnt hair, fried ass, and baked cat!!

August 10th:

The weather report might as well be a damn recording. Hot and sunny.Hot and sunny. Hot and sunny. It's been too hot to do anything for 2 damn months and the weatherman says it might really warm up next week!! Doesn't it ever rain in this damn desert?? Water rationing will be next, so might as well watch $1700 worth of cactus just dry up and blow into the damn pool. Even the cactus can't live in this damn heat.

August 13th:

Welcome to HELL!!! Temperature got to 105 today. Forgot to crack the window and blew the damn windshield out of the car. The installer cameto fix it and said, "Hot enough for you today?" My wife had to spend the $1500house payment to bail me out of jail. Freaking South. What kind of asick demented idiot would want to live here?

  *** HNT - Welcome Back!

This is a special HNT.

A gift came to us in the most unexpected of places. Adam at Lone Sloan Delirius took one of the pictures that my son drew when he was 13 and, not only doctored it up a bit, but the guys signed well wishes on it as well.

Then they did a blog post for him.

You can just imagine how happy we were to see such genuine love and support from people we admire so much. Thanks to all of the folks at Lone Sloan Delirius for everything you've done. It means the world to us.


On another note, my sister has moved here. Dyan and I haven't lived near each other since she was little so we are looking forward to working and playing together. We actually started this blog together 3 years ago, but things got hectic and she disappeared for a while. I'm so glad she's back!

She's a hot and sexy chica.


Wonder where she gets it from? Heh.


Happy HNT!
Happy Birthday Os!

Labels: HNT

  *** My Pussy Fell Off Her Tree

Ok. This is an old post from my Myspace account. I posted it about a month and a half ago.

Is there something WRONG with that? I know this is completely stupid but I'm sitting here, at my computer watching my cat chew on a hair thingy that I just tossed at her. She chased it, then proceeded to jump on this cat tree do-hickie we have for her and then fall off of it into the vertical blinds. Silly pussy...And now she's staring at me...she knows i'm talking about her...shhh.....

Anyways...I came across this today...The best way to your heart is through your head, and someone in your life who is very intriguing understands that. Be open to this person's attempts at probing conversations; nosy questions are not attempts to 'dig up dirt' on you -- they are part of an effort to understand what makes you tick. It's okay to trust this person's motives. You are building some very long-lasting relationships right now.

This is complete and total BULL POOPIE! Yeah. If I haven't already told you, I'm gonna tell you again. I thought that I was in a pretty stable relationship. Although the way it was started, I knew karma was gonna bite me in the ass. Hard. And it did. But I'm going to whine and vent to make myself feel better and to let you all know that John Gatti is..and yes I'm going to admit it, AN ASSHOLE. People WARNED me about this guy, but did I listen? Of course not! Because I was "in lurv" (as Aislinn so eloquently puts it.)

Things are going just peachy (well, not really but you know what I mean.) I finally get my ass off of his couch and find myself a job (after being laid off from a really good one). He tells me that I should get one at the cute, quaint, collier-family run convience store down the road because everyone will just "love me because they love him!" *gag* So I do this. About three days into my new job, a girl who I thought was my friend (also known as, "Prissy Krissy") starts hanging around. Ok. She's 17! Now it's cool if she's there once in a while, but not every fucking night. I try to think nothing of it because my head has been filled with so much fear and bullshit, I don't dare bring it up. Night one? Krissy. Night two? Krissy. Night three, four, five, six and lucky number seven? You guessed it...Krissy. This goes on for about a week or so. Then my bestest buddy, Erin comes to town. Granted she's already seen through Johnny's oh so fine fasique (is that right?) and looks right towards his layer of bullshit. She KNOWS something's not right...and Johnny KNOWS that she KNOWS something's not right. So Erin and I are basically forbidden to hang out with them.

Lemme set the scene for you.

Date: Feb 10, 2007

Time: 10:30 AM

Place: My room, Cordova TN

Plot: Trying to get Johnny to just wish my a happy birthday. Wasn't asking for a phone call...just a text saying "happy birthday"And here we go.

Usually his dumb ass is up and about by AT LEAST 8:30. I send him a text at about 9ish just saying hi, love you, all that fun stuff. I get nothing back. Send him another one at about 9:30ish asking if he was around. Nothing. Last one was sent at about 10ish, I forget what it said but the response I finally got back was...."God dammit! I'm sick of this shit! Why can't you just let me sleep! I can't take this any more! It's over!" So I go over there. We fight. Well really, he yells at me about how fucked up everything is and when I try to get in my two cents worth, he kicks me out. All while Erin is standing outside listening to him yell at me.

Woohoo! Oh, I'm sorry...I was supposed to be upset...Hang on...*tear* Much better.

Anyways...To make a long story short because I'm starting to get tired...

He fills my head with MORE bullshit. Telling me that I never really cared, loved him, blah blah blah....That i should PROVE i loved him, cared, blah blah blah...So I tried. I really did. Those of you who know me really well know that I try my HARDEST in relationships. Then he started going on and on and on about how I was the last thing in this world he loved and if he couldn't have me back he'd kill himself.

Finally yesterday he sends me a text saying that he wants to try again. Ok Johnny. Whatever. He calls me up. We talk and I keep hearing this strange beep in the background. He claimed he never heard it. So he comes over to my place for a bit. And as soon as he walks in the door he gives me a warm, "loving" hug and tells me "I'm not saying marry me now, I'm just saying you don't have to be alone". Hang on. Someone bring me a bucket so I can hurl. Please. So we cuddle up on the couch and I think everything's just wonderful again. WRONG! The ENTIRE two weeks we went back and forth, he'd been seeing you know who! Krissy! Since the day we broke up he's been seeing her and LYING to my face about it. And now...he's LAUGHING about it.

I hope she fucks him over. He needs to burn in Hell for all I care. He broke my heart and I hope she breaks his. He needs a reality check.

Back to the little blurb I came across...It says "Trust someone's motives" Yeah. Right. Tell that to someone who didn't get fucked in the ass by someone else's motives.

Have a great day all! :)

Well...There you have it.

  *** WHO MISSED ME!?

I missed me...wait...no I didn't. Oh crap. I guess I did. I'm finally here. In Atlanta. A transplant from Home of the Blues...dismal seapage...Memphis, Tennessee. Yes, boys and girls, I'm here to stay. Finally back in touch with my wonderful sister, Trish, my goofy-ass brother, David, and my awesome nieces and nephews. Now, the first item on my agenda has been executed and that was getting a job (kudos to Dave). So now....it's Trisha's job to find me a hot man :)

The taxt of keeping my arrival from my niece went flawlessly. I told Trish a few days ago not to tell her that I was coming because I knew she'd totally freak out. Low and behold, she did. It was great. Heh heh. Trish had this great plan. She told Chey that they were going to chuch seeing as how it was Easter Sunday, but that they had to stop by Dave's first. I'm walking out to my car when they pull up, so I just stop in the driveway and stare at them. Chey gets out and starts squinting at me and looks at Trish. "Who is that?" She asked. I was like, "You know who I am!" Chey freaks out. Eyes bug out, jaw hits the pavement. Yeah. Plan worked perfectly. Thank you Trish! Ladies and Germs, this woman ROCKS!

  *** Ritualism

There is something that I find comforting in the ritualism of my religion. I am not a practicing Catholic, but then I have come to the firm conclusion that you do not have to practice Catholicism for it to practice you. It is the ritualism I'm sure that draws me back again and again. I cannot be the only person who feels this way. Comforted by the ritual itself. I have been going back to Church intermittently. Guardedly. Some part of me that disagrees with all that I have learned within those walls, anti-gay, anti-choice, misogynistic messages delivered by pompous men who I don't believe hear the word of God anymore.

And yet, I find myself wandering down the Nave, staring at the altar, at the pristine statuettes, white alabaster Jesus, Mary's head bent in eternal, servile supplication. Genuflect, make the sign of the cross... In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Whispered under breath. The clatter as the kneeling bar comes down, double genuflection, fingers wrapped and head bowed. I remember when I was little peeking over my fingers at people's faces as the prayed. I always wondered what they were praying for. Some faces pinched tight, others sitting quietly, their eyes closed, lost in their own world. I was pretty sure that I was supposed to be praying for world peace and the end of hunger for those starving children in China that my mother mentioned every time I couldn't finish my dinner, but a little secret between Jesus and I was that I was usually praying to get a Barbie Townhouse or a Sit-And-Spin, some connection in my mind between Jesus and Santa Claus that had formed when I was young and stayed with me long after I knew there was no Santa Claus, a sad revelation because I had come to believe that Santa was far more reliable than Jesus when it came to answering my prayers.

This year past has been a trying one for me. My son's motorcycle accident has led me back once more to the altar. I do understand that I am not there to pray. I am there for the comfort of the ritual. I don't find faith in the ritual, I don't feel one inch closer to God, I don't think God can hear me any louder inside those hallowed walls than S/He could on any busy street corner. But the ritual is comforting. In a time when everything seems so out of control, so overwhelming, there is comfort in knowing what to do. Now you sit, now you kneel, now you turn to your neighbor, Peace be with you. The responses come by rote. No twists, no turns, no surprises. The Catholic version of mantra, Our Father, who art in heaven... It's a relief to know what comes next.

My last visit to church I went into the restroom, locked the stall door and cried. Huge sobs that shook my body. I wondered why I felt the need to hide in a stall and cry. Perhaps to avoid any offers of solice? It's my pain. I own it. I want it. I don't want others praying about it. Don't try to comfort me.

I left, no confession, no Eucharist, only a single genuflection on the way out. I walked back to my car wiping tears and clotted mascara from my face. I went home and undressed, I let the hot water of the shower wash over me in another ritualistic cleansing. Then I lay naked on the bed, feeling the weariness finally catch up to me. I slept deeply. I had developed a habit in High School of stripping, showering and masturbating after church. It was not an act of defiance, not something I felt I needed to feel contrition for. It was some type of self comfort that seemed to follow, in a natural way, the feeling of serenity that I got from the ritual of church. A continuation of the ritual comfort. I never felt guilty about it though I knew that I was supposed to. And so I slept, the whole afternoon, and into the night, rising only to use the bathroom and turn on the TV, letting the sound of the announcers voice to lull me back to sleep. I felt safe. Tended to. At Peace.


There have been times since my son's accident that I have had to turn back to my Church for assistance. It's a wrenching thing to do when you are so conflicted. I found myself many times during those first weeks once again at the bargaining table with Jesus, I promise I won't do this or that anymore, I'll be a better person, I'll come to Church every Sunday, just please, please, dear God, make him better. Pushing back the results of my last bargaining with God, which left me with nothing but bitterness, I was ready to try again. I had lost other loved ones in the past year and I was feeling sure that I had sacrificed quite a bit. That should give me a leg up right? I mean, the more you sacrifice the more you are entitled or did I just misunderstand the whole Binding of Isaac thing?

We are celebrating his birthday now. One which came very close to not happening this year and I am deeply effected by visions of what I could be doing on his birthday - a direct comparison to my brother's birthday the year after his death. This time we were lucky. And we are fully enjoying every moment of celebration.