Busted Lip

Most of us have scars, probably from a good fight, or maybe from an ass whooping you received as a child when your mother "mistakenly" broke a plate over your head because when she served you rice and beans, you held the plate upside down and the food stayed on the plate while upside down, you then looked at your mother, you shook the plate, the food held together all in one piece and plopped to the ground, you asked for a happy meal causing the scar, or you may have been attacked by a pit bull, because you played a little too rough and forgot it was a pit bull (that would be me, right side of top lip, the first example's name I am not allowed to mention but I don't know that back then Korea had McDonalds?) I have many scars, starting with my 3 children, the stretch marks fighting their way with each pregnancy to claim territory to the new world, they had no space, but space was made with time and due to limited space, I now have stretch marks on stretch marks, like an oddity out of the discovery medical channel. I have had nasal surgery for my snoring and deviated septum (can you believe I went through my life without knowing that I had more holes in my head, and they were going the wrong way, well I think they fixed that) I dig for ingrown hairs, leaving many many many scars, small but gosh so worth it. And other scars from cuts and burns I would rather not discuss today. Well my lip one, that one is special because I can say "I got a scar from a pit bull." Doesn't make me super human, Sasha was playing and really didn't bite me, more like scratched me. But it sounds adventurous. If that happened now, I may have made it on the news.
My whole point is that every time I see the scar on my lip, I think of a busted lip I got, and there is no scar, but will never ever forget. I was just wondering why I see one scar and remember a different moment. The pit bull didn't have anything to do with the PIP Lip. (PIP Lip being explained now)
How many of you have ever seen your other half go #2, #3, (Number 3 is one plus two, usually happening after bad chinese or taco bell) well I have not in all my years ever seen him do that. That being said, I know this is a subject he is not comfortable with, nor am I. But who reads this shit right (excuse the pun) I take pleasure in annoying my husband to the best that I can come up with at any given time of the day....SO whenever that deed was being done, I would often take it upon myself, in my aim-to-piss-you-off fashion (a family trait) to go up to the bathroom door and slide things under the door frame, sometimes notes "Done yet?", "How many more you got left in there?" (This one because when my son was little, he wanted privacy and I would wait outside, when I would ask him if he was finished he would say something like "No mom, I think there are 2 more left!!!" it really was cute) Well my other half didn't appreciate this intrusion and would ofter throw things at the door and I knew he would never get up to chase me, so I just continued to knock, pound, or just sit outside and have conversations at the most inoppurtune times. I would also squeeze my cheek to the floor to look and play with him, aiming at his toes. That was such a fun hobby for me. However, good things don't last, and this was quickly halted, immediately and never happened again. I decided one day, in my oh so smart ways to bug him by placing my lips into the crevice of the door opening and the wall, my forehead was smudged up with my cheeks and deep into the door, my hands on the door knob jiggling away and my lips just barely able to babble nonsense throught the very thin opening. Had my stupid ass been on the floor watching him, I would have seen him come up from the toilet, creep slowly up the door and pound on it with one good pop as hard as he could. I ran around that apartment like tim allen when he was walking on the fire rocks for mimi-siku in that movie Jungle 2 Jungle, I could cross those rocks. And when the savage warrior left the temple, I ran up to the mirror to find a very fine welt on my forhead, and my lips had a line from the top, just under my nose to the bottom just above the chin. There was a little piece of lip tissue that I yanked off and he looked at my like he wanted to laugh so hard, I dont think we spoke for hours, we both had our share of regrets for the day. Damaging my plumpy part on my lips I did have a scab for a week and the damage affected him too, my lips were not working and lip service was out of the question for a very long time, as long as it took for the scab to heal. I remember that still and just wanted to get it out of my system. I looked like a prostitue when I added enough foundation, having fun with it and puckering away, while dreaming of the lip injection they give out in hyde park. I thank you for your time and hope you have enjoyed this quick little story. Don't piss off people when they want to PIP (poop in peace) you get the pip lip reminding you never to do it again.

Found the little piece to fix my lap top

You may or may not know this. But I have 4 computers, of some sort. I have a desk top that Diego plays Club Penguin on for hours, and T uses to download music (although I have repeatedly told him not to for fear the secret service will break down my door and take him away) we also have a printer attached for coupons to print or Mileg's college stuff, when no one is on it and there is peace in the house, usually once a month at midnight after a venti white mocha with a quad shot of expresso, I use it to write my WIP (work in progress) Thats the desktop. Keep in mind that if mike d is on the loose and he sees the little red light telling him "Hey I am on!" he crawls under the desk (on the other side of the shredder, out of the view of desk top user) and MacGruber's his way to shut the whole system off, he will also flip the switch on the verizon box a couple times a day shutting off all internet and cable connection, pulling the plug on everything. Ay mikey!!! : ( Then we have 2 netbooks, one that broken, we didn't even know how to turn it on anymore, Tito just pawned it for $30 probably to a very savvy hindu child who will fix it and sell it for $200, because my child is business savvy like that, and my netbook, which I am on right now, that I added a Roxy sticker to, like a tattoo, now it has character (sometimes too much character and decides it doesnt want to speak to me or allow me to do any thing and just shuts down, prissy bitch!) its not as good as a real laptop but will have to do. Then, last but not least is the mack daddy laptop my daddy got me, a twinkle in his eyes, believing this would transform me into Danielle Steel, and I adore it. It is about as technologically updated as a Motorola beeper, but I cherish it because my daddy got it for me to write (needless to say, when he gave me this gift, my writing went on hiatus for about 18 months, because that is how life is) This beast of a lap top sits on my nightstand and waits to be used, wanting my fingers to caress its keyboard as if it were a scandalous soccer virgin waiting to be taken by Yoann Gourcuff (google him and let the drooling commence) taken ravenously in the goalie net tent thing that the guys who need to save the ball dive into, (I am sure it has a name, I don't readily know it, so my description should be enough, google that too, I would but I am busy blogging this) anyways the laptop wants some action.
Here is the history of the laptop: my other half (he would prefer I refrain mentioning him so there) has no concept of organization, or picking up after himself (I havent had to wash his socks in a month, but I am not wearing them, so I could care less, let his feet stink) he takes ownership of nothing, (Ex. we sit on the sofa and there is an empty box from Fex Ex on the night stand, sitting there for a week, I left it there to see if he would do something, the box is empty, no contents, just sitting there, we are reading the Sunday paper and I look over at the box and him, unable to put my coupons in order, and I ask him if its trash, he doesnt look up from the paper and simply says yes, so I ask "Why can't you just throw it away", his response "Why did I get married?" Let the smelly feet osctracize him from the general public, I threw out the box, thought of the socks and the urge to bop him on the head with the remote diminished) he picks up what he wants, when he wants. (see laundry wars) since August this lap top has been on lock down. I had all of the cords and for some reason, we had to purchase a small cord to connect the lap top to the cord (don't ask me why I dont know) the damn piece of plastic cost ninety dollars, a fortune to me, I lost the little cord in August and put the lap top and cord (the long one) in my night stand, I finally bump into the cord (the small mediator) in January and dance for joy, only to find that my lap top is now in the closet and the long cord is missing, I hide the small cord in the pencil box by the desk top and go about my business, in Febuary we found the long cord while cleaning up, I dance in joy again and run to the pencil box only to find that there is no small cord , FUCK!!!!, back to the nightstand, since Febuary my lap top has been sitting there and weeping for attention. Today as I was putting away my other half's visor, I open HIS drawer and guess what, found the little cord, I quickly put it in my bra, knowing that I would never lose it, no one goes in there, I blame the entire cord mystery on the other half, he should study to be an attorney because I had no case, I couldnt prove that I found it in his drawer and well the eyes rolling just told me enough, I didn't get pissed, no, I was thrilled I found all 3 pieces (aside from that, mike d and diego took a bath together and mike d in his curiousity decided once again that it would be fun to spray the toilet, sink and floor with water, knowing my other half would do something to piss me off and still in my mind the discovery in his drawer, with my little cord thingy in my bra, I cleaned the entire bathroom, floor and all with his t shirts, hey I was standing in a puddle I needed to do something, and his clothes were piled up ready to be washed, would it really make a difference to clean the corners and the baseboards before throwing it all in the washing machine, I think not!!!!) so I win. Another tactic under my belt. There is a great significance with my laptop, I have four manuscripts in there, completely untouched and unfinished that I have had to only dream about them because of the missing cords fiasco. One manuscript dissappeared one day I have the original but opened another to work on and the most recent version jumped off the laptop and committed techno suicide, and I will probably never see it again (Oh Luna, I will find you one day) , since then I started another manuscript on the desktop from the original I emailed myself. I have a bad case of ADD, I dont focus well and change what I am doing constantly as I get bored far easier than I would like to admit. I did have the Hula Girl, a USB saver that was pink with a green skirt and wirey hair, that held all my work, but that was a waste of money because mike d climbed the table, took it from it's safe place and stepped on it or fed it to Juno using it as a torture tactic, losing all of my beloved stories. Now that I have twenty thousand words on my Luna story, this new found cord has put me in quite the dilemma, I can write about Luna, Marissa, the princess story or my poems. These characters I write about often talk to me, often come into my mind as visions, and I have to run and write, going into type rage trying to remember and account for every little detail. That being said do you have any idea how many characters will be battling it out in my head, they just won't shut up, the voices demand my attention, although I am thrilled to find the cords, I am terrified as to what will happen when my charcters find out that they are back, and Luna poor Luna was originally on there, and now I have revised and editted and she is going to go into Sybil mode when she finds out there are 2 ways her life went, oh I hope they are gentle and they dont go UFC all in my head. God speed Bita, God be with you. (and also with you) (***don't those two last lines have to always go together) Lets see how this all plays out, will keep you posted.

The dream one

Dreams are merely wishes, not always coming true

Sometimes you dream to change the past, regrets you can't undo

You may take paths that lead you to that thing you want the most

The wish, the dream, is closer now, succeeded it, almost

But something crossed into your way, an unexpected fate

That dream has fallen further, out of reach, setting in hate

If I could go back into time, and rethink all my steps

I'd clearly walk the other way, away from that regret

Instead I'm walking aimlessly, and I go at it alone

All by myself, fear guiding me, and certainty unknown

To drown away my sorrows, the penalties I'll pay

Heavy drinking, heavy doubts, driving everything away

My dreams have become nightmares of how it should have been

Of what my life was meant to be, how I was meant to live

And so I wake up lonely, feeling helpless and afraid

The fucking up is priceless, there's a lifetime to be paid

Drive me to the edge of darkness, to death, I have no fear

Drive me to the end of wishing, take me far from here

Another day

Bedroom done, hey one room down!
As soon as I was finished making the bed all pretty, I watched Mike D crawl under the just-done bed. that would be the ending to the clean room. I am just sitting to write this and my mother in law walks through the door. (Here we go) She sits with me and my invisble laptop (this also happens when I talk on the phone, like they are not fucking there, do you not see the phone in my hand, do you not see me typing into a maniac text-rage) I continue to wonder what to blog about and have to stop, I put the laptop down and go to the boys room, to pick up the legos, hot wheels, and numerous other items that are a hazard to my feet. She puts on Korean channels, no worries I never knew what was happening on the tv show anyways, that is why God created TIVO, or Fios invented it, whoever. Mike and Diego help me pick up, I slowly back away hoping not to create a disturbance and have them stop what they are doing to follow me, and I move to the kitchen. I decided to make yellow rice and chicken, I am in no way a chef. Just one packet of Vigo yellow rice, one can of chicken (looks like tuna on steroids, but it's really chicken) and one can of whole kernal corn, and throw it all together in a pot, let it boil and simmer 20 minutes, ther's the recipe. She looks at my prison food and decides the boys would prefer hot dogs. So we boil 4 hot dogs and she sits and waits. Oh joy, I now have company. They boys picked up all their toys, I can hear the angels playing harps in the background. Mike D runs by and goes back under the covers, she ooh and aahs waiting and preparing me for a visit to the hospital, as she always waits for him to fall and draw blood, I lean over and watch the bed give birth to my two year old, I did that 3 times, not impressed. She serves the hot dogs and she calls out Diego to come eat, we now must wash the hot dog as he refuses to eat ketchup and she insisted, its too spicy he calls out to us, I knew better but am all about trying new things. (anything outside his rice and water, rice and butter, rice and tofu, and Cocoa Puffs fetish) My mother in law sits and is trying to get Mike D to try a hot dog, she is seducing the processed slab of meat, gliding it in her mouth and taking it out when he looks away, the entire act is obscene and once again diminishes my appetite. Really I should be lots skinnier. Mike D then takes one teeny bite and spits it out even faster, DENIED. We pick up the mess on the floor, and notice Juno has already taken car of that. He actually took care of all the hot dogs that were on the yellow ikea kid's bowl. With that she goes to the boys room, and I hear a loud " My Gauuud" Mike D has just flipped the plastic orange basket ball with all the just-picked-up toys, all of the toys are back on the floor. Mike D screams around in circles and hands me the remote control, bored with Blue's Clues. I look up from the laptop and my dear amazing-me-everyday mother in law has a handful of my rice and chicken in her hands, she scooped it right out of the pot. No shit, no bowl, no silverware. And I will keep that to myself so that my overgrown child and husband who get home at eleven will eat, no use in all of us starving.

There isn't much to think about, my house is in shambles, the kids don't listen and the dog ate another pair of my pajama pants, the ones with the skulls, (*tear*) mike d is on a sugar rush, but I dont know that he actually had sugar, but he is acting like a wild child. For the moment he is ok, laying on the sofa watching DJ Lance Rock, and its a good moment right now. There is a smell in the air, possibly trash tetris in the making. Juno has now decided that he will drink water from the leaky faucet in the shower, and when he leaves, there is a trail of doggie prints all over the house. I just bought the Magic Eraser mop, ready to try it. And as I battle the everyday war of me vs the house, I always hope that I will accomplish what I set out to do so I can write a scene or start plotting. That time never comes. I dont know that I should continue to battle, maybe just let the mess keep itself company. The dog just threw up something green, pretty sure its karma from eating my pajamas. Why cant they listen, why do they wait for Linda Blair to take hold of my soul and then run around to pick up everything I have been begging them to do. Havent they learned from the past. Ready to blow, lets see, just needed to vent. If you are ready this, let me know I am not alone. I mean I see that little clicker go up, but cant imagine who is reading this. Say hello. Introduce yourself.

Left

As the time passes by
Memories are so clear
Your voice is now fading
My thoughts hold you dear
The days are so lonesome
I'm falling apart
I still smell your body
But you've left with my heart
I just want to hold you
I feel empty inside
You left with no warning
No last kiss good bye
So I lie in this prison
My body's my own cell
For I've lost you to heaven
And you've left me in hell

Me and the Moon

This morning when I woke up

I opened up my eyes

I searched to touch you softly

But you're gone, to my surprise

I can't seem to remember

What made you leave so soon

I know I waited for you

By the window with the moon

I smell you on my pillow

But there lies an empty space

I sit up in a frenzy

With these thoughts I can't erase

Guilt begins to gather

And I'm quickening my breath

Our last moments together

Moments I try to forget

Rewinding all the words

I can never take them back

I said it all in anger

And you said them to me back

Solitude surrounds me

The darkness brings more tears

It seems like it was yesterday

But it's almost been a year

The days keep getting longer

Life has lost it's glow

I hope you come to find me

Before I'm gone out of control

When I close my eyes I see you

In my dreams we're not apart

Every night I'm lying with you

I wake up and then it starts

A daily living nightmare

I'm confined to day by day

I've tried to put it in the past

But it just won't go away

You haunt me while I'm sleeping

You're voice is in my head

Our pictures loom among me

Your presence is what's dead

The only way to calm me

Is to bring you back to me

I know this isn't like me

But I have nowhere else to be

I sometimes crack a bottle

I sometimes smoke alone

But lately it's a little pill

As I'm waiting by the phone

It voids out the reality

All the things I've learned to hate

Because really since you left me

I just sit and contemplate

I've lost touch with my family

I think they think I moved

I know they try to reach me

But this pain, they cannot soothe

So I let them leave a message

And I let it go to hell

I'm sure they're thinking of me

Do you think of me as well

Now I'm sitting by the window

I am with my friend, the moon

I can see her searching for you

Hoping you'll be back real soon

I glance off to the bottle

By my bed, it understands

It's helping me get through this

Stretching out to hold my hand

I could go to sleep forever

You would never leave my side

This time I'll try with twenty pills

Would it count as suicide

Crossing over to my dreamland

Hope you're waiting there for me

The only way to bring us back

The way that we should be

The decisions I must now make

To live alone or die with you

Tears start to emerge

I wonder if I'll make it through