A funny thing happened to me on the way to Dreamland

Archive from old MySpace Blog
Current mood: amused
Category: Romance and Relationships

This blog contains graphic scenes of adults of opposite gender sharing a bed together, Reader discretion is advised.

So yeah, bedtime. Last night to be exact. Watching a little classic Trek on DVD, chilling out, zoning out, Molly's out.

Not too long ago, we got a nice new King sized bed. It's great. I love it. Molly Loves it. Not only is a King long enough that my feet don't hang off the bottom, but it gives us room to roll over without smacking each other in the head.

So I'm finishing up Wink of an Eye, Molly's sawing logs next to me...

Molly doesn't normally snore, but I guess she's suffering from a bit of allergy issue, and just, at this point, having a bit of a fitful sleep. She's tossing a bit, rolling over, snoring on and off, and even mumbling.

So, it's about 11:45, I'm relaxing, Kirk's kissing the girl, and the pillow shifts next to me. An abrupt stop in the snoring, that slight stir before someone rolls over again, an arm pops out from under the pillow, and a body rolls over.

Well...

Almost over.

I glance to my right, and discover that Molly has actually stopped mid roll-over. At least I guess that's what she did. Maybe. I don't rightly know what she was doing. But there she was, still tucked in the fetal position, face down in the pillow, knees tucked under her, ass in the air.

I've never seen a person attempt to sleep in this position. I tried to imitate the position later, and without my full weight on my elbows, I couldn't even stay up. Not to mention trying to breathe with my face buried in the pillow. I just don't get it.

But there she was, laying there -- if you can call it laying -- for a full 45 seconds, before she tossed again, into a more typical sleeping position. And I went back to watching Spock repair the entire Enterprise in 12 seconds due to the enhancing properties of the Scallosian water.

12:10, and I've decided not to watch The Empath, in favour of seeing what's on HBO. "Why'd you wake me up?" What?!?

"What?"

"Why'd you wake me up?"

"I didn't."

"No, you woke me up."

"No really, I didn't. You've been tossing and turning, snoring, and just before you were sleeping with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air."

"What?"

"Yeah, you were asleep, face down in your pillow, with you ass sticking up in the air. But I didn't wake you up."

"Uhh... you didn't wake me up?"

It's 10:00 a.m. this morning, Jenni's on vacation, and I'm doing her work, as well as my own, as well as my usual volume of email conversations. "Did you wake me up in the middle of the night last night?"

"No, but you woke up, and asked me if I woke you up, and I told you I didn't but you were sleeping with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air."

"That did happen?"

"Yup. Face down, ass up."

"Maybe I was having a dream and getting laid."

"Maybe so."

Maybe so.

To Protect and Serve, and share a laugh

Archived MySpace blog

OK, so I've been tagged, and should be writing another blog... but I wanted to tell this little story first. So... tough; my blog, you read what I type. OK, no, I will get back to being tagged later. But, for now, let me tell you about last night.

So, Molly and I are coming home from Brian's Birthday party. Kudos to Brian and moreover Jack, for putting together such an amazing party. But, as happens, the night wore on, and it was time for us to make the trek back from Norwalk to Branford.

We decide to drive up Rte. 1 for a while, instead of getting straight on the highway, in hopes of finding Dunkin Donuts on our way... and, about a mile up, in the sleepy town of Westport, we do.

Two coffees now on board, back onto Rt. 1. About a quarter mile up, on the right, in a gas station that seems to have been closed for hours, I spy one of Westport's Finest. No worries. Just going a half mile to the highway entrance, it's late, doing nothing wrong.

"That's odd." "What's that?" "The lights on the top of his car... he doesn't seem to have any." "Oh I've seen that. Some of..." "I think they're on the sides." "Makes sense. Whalen is making... oh, he's following us." "Why?" "No reason, I'm sure. Just gotta earn his donut."

Turn right toward the highway, 5-0 still following. I've known he's there for the last 1/2 mile or so, no way I've stepped over 40. Lights: red and blues. Pull over. Grab my license, and reg and insurance card from the glove box. Window down. See the usual swagger up, and the mag-lite.

"Mornin' Officer." "Morning. You got a taillight out. Just have to harass you for it." 'Harass.' Yes he said 'Harass'. "Oh." Kinda sighed, kinda laughed. Wow they really have nothing to do in Westport at 1 in the morning. "I'll get that fixed tomorrow." "Been drinking tonight?" Molly gives a no; I tell him "had a beer and hour or so." "Got any warrants?" "Nah... I work for the State's Attorney's office; couldn't let that happen." "OK, I just gotta run these [license and reg], and you're all set."

"He pulled me over for a taillight. Wow, these have nothing to do out here. Told you... just gotta earn his..."

"OK, you're all set. This is a written warning; just gotta prove to my boss that I did something tonight" "OK, is this the kind I have to bring to DMV?" "No, I didn't check off 'defective equipment'. I just need something to give to my Sergeant. Just throw it away. You can just toss it out the window when I turn around." Ummm... so you can pull me over again for littering?" "Nah... I'm turning right around as soon as I'm back in my car." "OK. Have a good night." "Hey," Molly interjects, "did you see this?" The mag-lite shines back in the car. "This", as she reaches for my air freshener. It's a picture of this Officer Friendly looking cop, with the words 'Police Are My Favorite People' "That's great. Where'd you get that?" "Some little shop in Newport. Horribly... it's donut scented." "That's great. I have to get one."

In the town of Westport, busted taillights are considered especially heinous. At 1 in the morning, these cases are handles by the men and women of the Special Taillight Unit. These are their stories.

Oh yeah... I love this day

Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: apathetic
Category: Romance and Relationships

Valentine's Day... and we arraign the wife beaters from the weekend past.

But today they come in together, arm-in-arm.

Even the Judicial system isn't free from the hypocrisy of the damned holiday.

They beat each other. Kicking, shoving, slapping; 5 and 6 times before this one... that their records even show. More than likely, its 3 times a week.

On Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and even Monday, they hated each other... enough to swing, enough to throw dishes... in front of the children... and the foster children... and their children from other daddies... enough even to call the cops. To scream, and yell, and threaten.

And today they file in... bruises hidden behind bad make-up, misplaced scarves... band-aids cover skin broken by knuckles... arm-in-fucking-arm, because today their in love. Today its Valentine's Day, the day that past transgressions against love or forgiven in favour of discount shop cards, over-priced chocolates, or maybe -- just maybe -- a rose from the guy with a van on the Boulevard.

Today their hypocrisy knows no bounds.

Or am I wrong?

Is today truly about forgiving the year because somebody shelled out the big bucks on Russell Stovers?

I don't know.

Answer that one after I hit you on the head with a frying pan.

All I wanted for Christmas

Archived MySpace blog
Current mood: happy
Category: Blogging

I got exactly what I wanted this Christmas.

I spent this Christmas up at my sister's this year. Christmas eve with the family; wake up Christmas morning... 6 a.m., because the youngest (3 1/2 months) wanted to eat. But the oldest of my sister's 3, at 2 1/2, really started Christmas morning at 8:30. Normally I'm not a morning person, but with the kids there (and a cup of coffee in hand) I was OK with it this once.

So, I'm sipping coffee, and watching the kids eye the mountain of gifts from Santa... not to mention the equally large stack from Mommy, Poppy, Nana, and Uncle Ian... and on my lap is Chubba-Wubba.

OK, my sister did not name her second-born "Chubba-Wubba", but all those children have a multitude of nicknames. Kayden Ivy Turner is affectionately known as Chubba-Wubba, and that unto itself is a fantastic thing. Kayden was born September 18, 2004, about 5 months premature. A so-called micro-preemie at 1 lb. 10 oz., its absolutely fantastic that she could at this point suit the nickname Chubba-Wubba.

So I spent Christmas morning with Kayden on my lap, smiling as she always ALWAYS does, helping her unwrap her gifts, and my gifts, and watching her chew the envelope of my card, and marvel at the Christmas wonder that is new socks. It was just great to see that little one ripping Christmas wrap... and just that much better knowing that last year she was still in the hospital this time of year.

So that was my Christmas. That was all I wanted for Christmas. Granted, I got a good amount of really nice gifts, too. But when it comes down to it, Kayden on my lap this year was worth far more to me than any material gift could be.

Granted, there was one down note to this Christmas... a slight sadness. One person was definitely missing from my Christmas this year, one I've spent countless holidays with. But this year, one important person in my life was absent for this Christmukkah season. It was unfamiliar not to have her here. And she was missed.

random thoughts of the drive home (with 11 hour delay)

I will try to keep this honest and shut off the filter called sobriety. So, I will now attempt to make this post in vino veritas after the fact.

I think at this point I'm going to say that, contrary to the opinions of those who knew him before me, Charlie isn't actually a douchebag. He's kinda growing on me as a person. But that doesn't change the fact that as a KJ, he sort of sucks. I don't see any reason to tolerate that anymore.

Which brings me to "Buddy Bar-Owner"... The longer I know him, the more I think he kinda is a douchebag. He's maybe more like the friend that you know is a bad person. I had a friend like that a while back, he was a great friend, but really not a good person. The fact that my buddy owns a bar is no longer a reason to go to a bad bar. If he had a shred of integrity, and could keep to a promise, maybe. But then again, I wouldn't be going to see him at his bar at that point, I'd be going to work, or going to see Firecracker at work.

So, we made a good choice. Open Mic was a better scene. Cool to see Old-Friend-Bassist-Dude. Cool to see Firecracker's "brother". The rest seemed cool people, and although I hadn't known then for years, I felt pretty welcomed. Maybe next time I'll make the attempt to sing. Might check out Friday's show.

Have to admit, the competition for Firecracker's attention was a little thick. Maybe I'm only bothered by it because I was one of the competitors. Its sad that there are scores of guys who'd like nothing more than to have her to themselves, but at the same time are just the wrong guys. And so they are the endless stream of big brothers and Stanford Blatches, who but for the wrong time and place...

Human self image is such a strange thing. Why is it that we only see ourselves as being good enough, good looking enough, worthy of a certain level of person, and really understand our wants and value at a time when it no longer matters. Its funny how no one is out of your league when your no longer playing. But I have the feeling that if you were to come out of retirement, all the old insecurities would just come rushing back.

OK, I lied. There was another part from the random stream of thoughts as I drove that I think I'll have to cut. Another time perhaps, but not here right now. Sorry, I guess "indeed my hypocrisy knows no bounds."

Currently listening :
Nobody's Home
By Avril Lavigne
Release date: 15 November, 2004