Sunday, January 9, 2011

Tangential...

Tangential...

Main Entry: parenthetic
Part of Speech: adjective
Definition: digressive
Synonyms: departing, detouring, differing, discursive, excursive, parenthetical, rambling, tangential

It seems like my mind has been all over the place this week...

I turned on the Sunday morning news and found out that somehow I had missed all the tragedy this weekend. I had gotten so burned out on the "new guys taking over the congress"... the one side of the aisle getting theirs from the other side. I am not a bit expert. I have not read the multithousand page bill that makes up the health care bill, but I must admit that I have always been of the belief that this country needs public health care. And I am sure that the current laws will need some (or a lot of) fixing. But I am of the definite opinion that we were finally going in the right direction when we got this far. It was disheartening to hear all the talk about repeal. I got sick of it. Every time I hear that fucking word "Obamacare" I want to kick the television over. I turned off the news.

And now, this morning I realized I have missed out on some kind of "big news". And strangely as I watch... some reporter tried to explain this act, this senseless act of murder to some kind of rage or protest because Congresswoman Giffords had supported the health care bill. It makes me sick all over again.

meh... so often the events and the manner that the media spins these events seem to conspire to make me flinch and look away and try to not think about it. It all makes me want to put my head in the sand.

Deep breath... and another one... lets look away... think of cheese.

Once a month Master gives me permission to attend a group of writers that meet. I am not totally in love with the group, but it is something to do outside of the house. They seem to have too much of their own agenda, too much drama with other peoples. But this month it totally disintegrated into two hours of back stabbing gossip about people I don't even know. And even when we do talk about writing, it is not about the kind of writing I am interested in. Exercises, poetry forms... it is less about what you are writing than about writing in general. I want to talk about what I am doing. I really need to find a different group.

Makes me wish Master was more open to having strangers come to our house. It would rock to have something here with a group of carefully selected writers. Wish I did not live on the periphery of this metro area.

Man... I am in a whiny mood. Speaking of bitchy... and cheese.

My darling, and totally perfect, and never does anything wrong ever Master... cough, cough, chokes on words. Smacks self up aside the head... has to move the vehicle he said he was going to dispose of years ago (I am forbidden to utter the word Volvo aloud in his presence.) ...from its parking space on the street to the somewhere on the lawn. The city finally is cracking down on derelict vehicles in our neighborhood. We really need to move to a trailer park... or out into the country where we can have our very own personal back field to park the dead cars on.

So right in the middle of writing this... at 6 fucking thirty in the morning I was directed to "put on some clothes, pretty girl. I am going to need your help." So in the dark and cold (at least it wasn't pissing down rain... just the normal everyday drizzle)... we were pushing dead little dirty white car and then towing and pulling and pushing that nasty little car to a new parking place on the lawn. And now, looking back... 6 fucking thirty in the morning is the ideal time if you think about it. We had the entire dead end street we live on blocked off. Any other time or day of the week we would have had to deal with traffic. I just hope we didn't wake up too many of our neighbors with him yelling at me to "go forward! STOP!" "what???" "PUT IT IN REVERSE!!!!" "what????"... Like I said earlier, we really need to move out to the country.

To give me credit, Master said I did good. I didn't ask questions. I didn't winge or complain or balk or whine. I was a good helper.

And totally cool cheese...

Master said yes to going to a local, kinky dress up event next weekend. I am all a'twitter. Not only to I get to wear some of those shiny, sexy, totally inappropriate things in my closet, but I get to dress him up too. Yum... I already ordered the leather vest from Amazon... and a pair of hand cuffs. Yes, definitely all a'twitter.

And other tangential shit...

The absolutely delightful television series "Firefly" that was doomed to be canceled by Fox after only thirteen episodes was airing nonstop on Ovation television all day yesterday. Master actually dusted off his guitar and spent some time figuring out the cords for the "Ballad of Serenity."



Cool song... cooler show. Shame it had to die so young. 

And there is something so sexy about Master playing the guitar.  Yum...

Well I have not been writing as much as I would like... too much time blogging... so you guys take care.

xantu, Master's pretty girl...

4 comments:

  1. Living in the country is nice because you can push the car around whenever you "want to" lol, and put it pretty much wherever you want. But unfortunately, no writing groups good or bad.

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  2. W bought the middle kid a dodge dart. What self respecting 17 y o boy would drive around in one of those? So the boy bought himself a Volkswagen GTI. The kid is now 23 and there the dart sits....Pick a trailer park we both like and we can have the writers group meetings in my trailer ;-).

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  3. Blogging's not writing?

    I wanna be in your writing group - um, but I think I'll pass on living in the trailer park.

    Nice post. The political situation is a mess, isn't it, and the shooting are scary.

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  4. Looking forward to hearing about your outing... nothing like a new pair of handcuffs to break in.

    Mick

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