A Good Sense of Distaste

Gardening and yard work have taken center stage in my little life as of recently. As much as I have always loved the idea of being a person who loves to weed, prune, care… I’m just not. I’m a sip-coffee-from-the-porch-watch-someone-else-do-it kind of girl. I don’t know, we’ll see. I’ve had gardens before and they always get over-run by weeds because quite honestly I can find 1000 other things to do besides weed… or care to weed. I hope that what I feel about this gardening time is different. I kind of have the sense that it might be and that this time I will really keep it to a sane level of overgrown produce. The verdict is still out. It may be my older more settled ways that make me stick to it wholeheartedly and the fact that I actually own this home. Again with the We’ll See’s…

Women are so horrible. I bitch about it but I have to include myself from time to time. My reaction to bitchy and mean women is to annihilate them with words and evil thoughts. Therefore continuing the cycle of the female on female hate fuck. That’s what it is, mostly. Women hate women that they want to be or that they perceive as something they are not… and then some women just HATE. Once you’ve been a super-sized evil cunt to me I can never see past that. So, you seal your fate with me in that instant. Because now I know how mean you can be and I can never let you in to find reasons to be that way again when I start to care. 

Once I volunteered to help clean for some extra cash with a friend who had a housecleaning business, I saw her clean one of her clients bathroom sinks with the toilet brush because she hated her. In complete shock I cleaned it after she left the bathroom. I have forever been repulsed by what I saw. In fact every time I think of this friend, whom I rarely see, I think of that. I would never dislike another human in this way. Instead, I would NOT work for that person and I would tell that person exactly how I felt about them. It’s comical that my honesty about things get’s ME into trouble. Makes me even seem like I have no compassion, which in fact I have an over abundance of. It’s just I’m not willing to waste time any longer pretending that I like people that I actually don’t. It’s a freer life when you just let go of those sorts. It’s good that I am like this because I cannot actually hide it when I don’t like people.

All that being said, I do relish the idea of making new female friends. It’s harder now at this age. I’m picky. I’ve been burned and most women are evil sacks of shit. They always want what YOU have even if what they have is just fine. It may seem conceited to say but It’s rare that I meet a woman that doesn’t try to be me in some way or another. I hate those sorts. Be yourself. That’s what I do. I’ve never met one person that I would want to be. Okay, maybe financially… but that’s it. I actually like me. More women need to like themselves and then maybe they could like each other.

Helmut Newton

She wasn’t evil, she was just defending her sister. I’d be pissed if some bitch dropped their house on my sister and then stole her shoes!

Everything in this photo (by Helmut Newton) I must have and be.

Can I be her for Halloween?

Why does he do this to me?

I saw him a few weeks ago on some late night program, he did this little Broadway number and I nearly burst right in half. I literally felt my uterus start to grow back. How can one human man look so deliciously fabulously delicious? I’ve said this many times and I’ll say it again- Everyone is very, very fortunate that Hugh and I have not yet met. Everyone: meaning his wife, children, my S and my children. He’d be in love with me instantly and everyone would be crying and miserable. If you ever hear of me heading to Australia for a vacation say your ‘Farewells’ because if I run into Hugh there will be no coming back.