5 Things.
I have been tagged by my gear head mama goddess. I sigh a bit of relief because I was just going to skip out tonight and use the excuse that gingerbread cookie crumbs got underneath my space bar as well as the letter J (I wouldn’t be lying but truth be told I can still type, it’s just crunchy).
5 Things about me.
I was a cheerleader in high school. Yup. The dancing, kicking kind. Yeah, I know. But the redeeming thing is I got kicked off. After my sister’s wedding reception, I tagged along with my big brothers and sisters (I was about 17 at the time) to The Cherry Lounge to play some pool and sneak some more drinks. Just so happens my 23 year old gym teacher from high school was at the Cherry Lounge a bit sloshed. Him and I hung out a bit, and he got a bit more drunk then he started asking me to try and fix him up with a friend of the family who was also at the bar (there was a group of about 10 from the wedding all in this dark, smokey, cherry-paneled bar). He spilled his guts about how hot he thought she was and about how bad he wanted he and begged me to fix them up. Who the hell knows what I said or did, I was 17 and on about 15 glasses of champagne. But I did refuse to hook them up. I was stubborn and to be honest didn’t really like my teacher all that much and loved the women he was getting a hard on over. So I left him alone and continued to sneak drinks and play pool. At some point I did remove my stockings and throw them across the room at my brother when he told me I was cut off and he then promptly removed me from the bar ad brought me home (only later to be found making out with a groomsman in the study at my parents house. He was about 28 or 29 years old and just got back from a hang-gliding world-record making trip in Nepal. He had a long curly mullet and bright blue eyes and I thought he was my dream weaver. Then my mom walked in on us while his tongue was in my mouth. Yeah, it was pretty wrong.) Anyway, my gym teacher obviously was feeling pretty lame about how he tried to get me to help him get laid so on Monday morning he went straight to the principal of the school and told him I was seen out at a bar, drinking. I guess I signed some contract that said I was not to drink while doing ’sports’. But the worst part was that he told the principal that I was drunk and HITTING ON HIM. Which was oh -such -a- lie. Such a lie. If I thought he was hot, I wouldn’t put it past me, but I didn’t. So I got kicked off. And the teacher, Mr. Dix, I swear that was his name, exuded some power he thought he had over me to cover up his slimey nature. Regardless, I am thankful for him. Now I get to say I get booted from the cheer team for being a lush.
I believe in ghosts, faeries, spirits, magic and all things that take time and faith to see. I believe the paradigm is shifting and I believe the future has so many possibilities and is expanding in ways that will allow for experiencing life in a way we can only dream about. I live for quantum mechanics. I don’t believe that me, you or the universe is separated. And I don’t mean I think we are all connected. I mean we are all One. 99.9% of every single one of is made up of EXACTLY the same matter, the same cells. There is .1% difference in each of us…that’s all. I believe that the only way to make someone better.nicer.more positive.less evil. is to be a better, nicer, more positive, less evil person myself and towards them.
My Man and I spent our honeymoon in the exact room that John Lennon and Yoko Ono celebrated their 2nd 2-week long “Bed In” (the first was in Amsterdam) and it was in that room they recorded “Give Peace A Chance.” How cool is that?
I am addicted to ABC.COM. I don’t have TV in my house (just DVD) yet at night I cuddle up with a glass of vino and my vaio and watch: Ugly Betty, Desperate Housewives and Lost like a junky gettin a fix. It’s pathetic. And what the heck are they doing not airing Lost until Feb.? I mean..seriously…that is just wrong.
I moved in on My Man after 3 months of dating him. He was in Florida over the holiday of 1997 and I was sick of living with my best friend and her husband and their very dysfunctional marriage and paying too much rent for our little 2-bedroom apartment in Hollywood so I cruised over to my lover’s house, on my bike because I didn’t even have a car, I was a real catch, let me tell you. I had on backpack full of clothes and stuff and his neighbor (who is now one of my best friends) helped me climb into his kitchen window and I moved my ass right on in. Took over few drawers. Put up some photos. How psycho is that? He wasn’t due back for 2 weeks. I called him to let him know that I now lived in his apartment, of course. I knew I loved him when he just laughed. Then got silent. Then said, “Are you serious?” And I said yeah. And he said cool. Cool. And that was that.
