At what point is infidelity infantile?
At what point do we just do it to do it in ways in which the other who’s really supposed to be the one but I mean other in that you are not me but only a small extension of me like a prosthetic arm or leg that fits over top of healthy happy regular flesh covered arm and leg?
At what point does it all merge and mingle and become a modern day roman coliseum of us together but apart a relationship oracule of mass entertainment, we sit, they sit, the others who we choose who we keep around “bread crumb throwing” as you’d say, at what point does it become mass entertainment? Or, at the very least entertainment in and of or in and above ourselves our each otherness?
Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s insecurity, maybe we’re just essentially two beings that when we get together we have in inordinate and unmatched ability to make each other feel like shit…

Maybe we’re just tearing each other up into little pieces, little morsels of food, and maybe the others, maybe all the emails and all the chat sessions and all the websites are the means, the instruments in the breaking apart and up and shredding of everything we could’ve been.

Maybe we’re each taking these morsels of each other, placing them peaking out of our molars, knowing they’re there, kinda sticky and stuck in between teeth.
Or, maybe we’re just bored. Maybe it’s the eating corn chips and drinking beer and watching random episodes together, random porn apart.

I feel nothing.

I feel pissed.

Nothing nothing nothing pissed pissed pissed.

The slew and containment and confinement of emotions make me necessarily inaudible. And that pisses me off more than all the freakin causes of pissiness. Frankly.

MOLLY JOURNAL ENTRY #3

She's not happy. She's sitting on my bed giving me the "i've never done it before but i am so upset i may just pee on your pillow" death stare.

"i can't help it," i say in my little you're upsetting me and imparting terrible catholic guilt that i'm already pre-disposed to upon me

"yes you can. no one would even see me"
"molly, it's a CHURCH. you can't come"
"i'm a child of God too you know. Remember in the new testament, Jesus talked to the puppies in a circle. People were bringing little puppies to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little puppies come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little puppy will never enter it." And he took the puppies in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.""
"molly, if you think that after 15 years of catholic education and having my head filled with more bible passages than i'm filled with vowels, that i can't out-wit you in biblical discourse, you are sadly mistaken. and it was CHILDREN not puppies."
"it was puppies. why do they have to have a graduation in a church anyway. if it was in the school i could come"
"you can't come"
"technically she's my sister too"
"she's you're aunt. technically i didn't begat you so really, she's nothing"
[HUGE intake of breath] "SAY YOU'RE SORRY. THAT WAS JUST MEAN"
"ok, you're right i'm sorry, now take your little chew chicken chomper and in your crate"
"i'm not happy"
"i know. come here and cuddle for a little bit. i bet mama hurd will have mashed potatoooooooes for you"
[head cock] "with gravy?
"is there any other way?
[eyes wide, bum wagging]
"hummmmmm.....ok then..."

Annie's Grad...

She is growing up...

sniffers.

It was raining from the first
And I was dying there of thirst
So I came in here
And your long-time curse hurts
But what's worse
Is this pain in here
I can't stay in here
Ain't it clear that--
I just can't fit
Yes, I believe it's time for us to quit
When we meet again
Introduced as friends
Please don't let on that you knew me when
I was hungry and it was your world.

bob dylan (clearly)

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.

Miss Piggy

i just want to know, WHY Patricia is in the life jacket when clearly the kiddie pool cannot be any more than 2 feet of water.

She was always a nervous child, and although not overly protective (I once ate a plant bulb, climbed a Christmas tree and broken more bones than I can count, and my Mother was fiiiiiiiiiinnnnnne through it ALL) I don't know what would possess my Mother to not only place Patricia in the life jacket BUT take a picture to memoralize such an odd occasion.

We were cute as lil buttons.

the only and sole decent picture i have ever taken in my entire life.

she's a keeper. indeed.

t-bone wisdom...

(and i implore gob for more...i love this)...

Do the the things you like best, do only those things, and now that you know what a shitpile looks like, don't step in so many.

Molly entry #2

"You're crying? What the hell?" Molly says from her happy spot on top of my right shoulder.
"Shut up Parrot"
"I like it up here"
"You're not a parrot. Stop being weird"
"But this way I can hear you real good, and smell your breath and chew on your ears"
"Stoooooop I HATE when you eat my ears"
"hummmmmmm...You're listening to Liz Phair. That's your sad depressing I hate myself and hate my life music. I know how this goes. Next you'll be putting on the Leanord Cohen DVD, pulling out your notebooks, and writing words in between your tears"
"You're a Parrot"
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
"[sigh]"
"Come here my little human jello-pop. Let me lick your tears. Stop crying, you always look like Carrie the next day....Come here, I'll let you snuggle me for as long as you want."

Puggle snuggles. What is there in this place to possibly be sad about? With a Molly, even the largest most depressing moments are snuggably better.

A woman watches her body uneasily, as though it were an unreliable ally in the battle for love.

Leonard Cohen

sometimes i think
we could've could've could've
lived beside the ocean
beyond our past
i really think
we could've could've could've
gone on like this
still dreaming of your
mouth
empty and hollow with all
the pain you took away
i really really think
we could've could've could've
been two stars scuttling
across the dusk
leaving behind
everything we've ever known
and done to each other
i'm certain we could've could've could've
found ourselves
swimming past the darkness
clutching to the back-less backs
of each other snuggling
for warmth against an ontario sky.

Back by Popular Demand...

Molly's Journal, Entry #2


"Ssssssspsssssssh wake up" Morning puppy breath envelopes me.
"Mollllllly go back to sleep."
"I can't. I'm restless."
"It's like 5am, we didn't go to bed until like 2am because YOU wanted to watch Star Wars."
"NOoooooooo we didn't go to bed until 2am because you were frenching COI all night"
"That's not true! And where did you learn that?? Who taught you that?"
"Hanker"
"Who the hell is Hanker?"
"The bull mastiff puppy at daycare"
"He's cute"
"He IS cute."
"Ok, go back to bed. And why are you talking in that ridiculous accent?"
"I'm practicing my Freud analysis voice for the puppy puppet show"
"I thought you were doing Oklahoma?"
"We are but there's too many puppies so we added a Freud and a mailman. We already have a truck"
"I see. Go back to bed"
"I'd rather sit on your head and bite your hair for a bit"
"BACK TO BED"
"ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGRRRRRROOOOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLLLLL....I'm gonna go read then"
"Fine. Wake me up in a half hour"

Pitter patter of Molly feet, crunch crunch crunching and the inevitable sound of pee on laminate. Whine whine whine cry cry cry elbow nibbling.

"What??" I say
"I'm reading Beck's Integral Spiral Dynamics and I think this could really help you at work, and perhaps in your relationship with COI." Molly says
"Where did you find that?"
"In your postmodernist critical theory, which I may point out is a bit of a conflicting term in my mind. I don't know if it's an oxymoron or a hyperbole. I haven't figured it out yet. So anyway...Spiral Dynamics Integral, or SDi for short, concerns itself with the deep complexity codes that shape our many worlds. The model describes and makes sense of the enormous complexity of human existence, and then shows how to craft elegant, systemic problem-solutions that meet people and address situations where they are."
"Molly, you need to take this energy, intellectual or otherwise, place it somewhere in your heart, close to the little murmur, and hold it in and safe until I take you to Daycare. Because I cannot discuss this now. And frankly, GOB will be around this weekend and she'll discuss this with you...but I am not doing it now."
"I love you, and you're ignoring me. You learned this from COI"
"Did I learn that when my tongue was supposedly down his throat during the lightsaber battle?"
"You're mocking me"
"I am. Come bite my hair and snuggle"

Puppy jump snuggle. Ahhhhhhhhh...

The strangest thing...

I go to pick up the little banana split from doggie daycare yesterday. She's all cute and fuzzy and sleepy, gets real close to me ear and whispers...

"You gotta go back there," She says, in between nose nudges and licking, her little pug eyes peering past the puppy enclosure, a look on her face I've never seen before, and one which I've concluded is loathing.
"Go back where?" i say
"To the back,the grooming area. It's the strangest thing i've ever ever seen, and it's going to give me nightmares. So i need you to see it and tell me it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen, and um, i'll also need to sleep on your head tonight. I feel uncomfortable." Says Molly
"Ok" I say.

I go back. To the grooming area. And there, is a bright almost florescent pink if not fuscia dog. It looks kinda Bichon Frisce-ish (sp?) and it is BRIGHT freakin pink. The whole dog, save for some weird reverse raccoonige around his eyes.

Molly leans over, licking my ear so no one can hear, and says,

"Seeeeeeee....I told you!"
"You're right. It is the most ridiculous thing,"

Now Barb and I, my ethics sound board for things of this nature, spoke at length today. She is convinced it's dog abuse. I don't know that I would go that far, it definately however, falls under the "there is so much i don't understand about people, and reading all the jung and freud i can get my eyes on won't help me with this one" it's just WACKY. I don't understand it.

And frankly, if a 4 pound puggle, cute as she is, is mocking you, making fun of you, and teasing you relentlessly, well I can't help but think fuschia is probably not a good look, and probably going to create a dog that struggles a bit with their self esteem and a lot with their ability to feel attractive. It's gonna give the dog a terrible, insane complex.

That's all I'm saying.

Molly agrees. Oh my, she just swore. She's livid about this whole thing.

there is however...

redemption.

in the form of star wars, cheap merlot, unsalted popcorn, a sleepy puppy and your fingers on my feet silently.

we certainly can't get any worse now can we?

and honestly...

some sort of platonic man-less lesbian-ness is lookin pretty darn good.

For GOB, I am soberly beggin ya (we can keep ears, the judge, and jasper):

It was really, the Slushie Machine Story, the DENIAL of the existence of the dust of angel wings AND BEER, and posting of pictures clearly outlining said denial, the repeated denial, the hang over, and hang hang hang over, and the picture of other women pawing that really did it.

So. Ya did it. You win.

I'm bitter, and ready to give in to the undying and unconditional doesn't screw me over and doesn't lie to me like a high school kid and doesn't intentionally fry her brain and wreck her body love of the puppy.

She's warm in bed too.