everything falls apart …

It’s all in a complete mess.  There’s no stability, no excuse.  No center.

I try to do the right things.  Try to move on.  I don’t understand why she gets to behave as she does.  Gets to do whatever she pleases.  It’s completely untoward.  God only knows what else she is doing …

Is she trying to reactivate the little social group that got her into trouble in the first place and ruined things for me?  Does she really think that it’s going to all just be fine, fine, fine?  It was bad enough with EXT sending stupid update emails to my husband – but there was really nothing that we could do about that.  I hadn’t decided what to do about his mother’s birthday card.  None of this makes any sense to anyone but me.

He’s not allowed to talk to me.  I’m a huge threat.

So what on earth is going on with emailing my husband.  Who does this?  Are the rules just changed somehow.  I just want to write a stupid email or something:

“Dear Clueless Wad of Denial - 

Things are good with me.  Had a birthday.  Yeah, the Denise lot’s actually slowly improving … although one thing that hasn’t changed is that I still talk to my husband all the time, every day … about every little thing.

The All Knowing, All Seeing, 

Not Really.

PS.  What’s in your wallet?

PPS.  If your mail is still being screened, my husband actually comes with baggage; and thusly cannot be an object of nostalgia for anyone …”

Now wouldn’t that be lover-ley? {evil smile}

Barton Springs, finally.

This entry has nothing to do with the pool in Austin.

‘Tomorrow’s Not Today’

I played open mic yesterday. At Ruta Maya.

It’s a BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL that I did this.

I haven’t been making a lot of other things happen. But the fact that I did this – on the anniversary of “DG-day” – is HUGE.

Practice makes Perfect!

PG-13, mild language post

at the humidor

I’m at the humidor writing my second review, and I just saw a poster. I am going to finish my review -but I didn’t want to make non-review related comments on the review.

The poster was for the John Lennon thing at the coffee shop which I frequent. I was in the bathroom after having spooked this poor woman out by peeking out of the stall at her because I thought that she sounded like Christina (hopefully she didn’t think that I was stalking her). Well when I was done I washed my hands. What was once my “ex-whatever’s” band name is now “His Band Leader and the Band Names”

They used to just be the “Band Names”, I think. It’s pretty amusing to me. Not the usual sinking feeling of “oh crap … I don’t have a gig!”

Now the curly dude in the cap that does computer all the time is having a secret conversation with Mike. Mysteriouser and mysteriouser …