2.9.2002 :::

Pedantic. Why won't that fucking word leave me alone tonight?? Sorta strange, really.
Jett Superior laid this on you 2:16:49 AM :: scoop it ::

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Today Maxim brought home a clear plastic box with big, fat cinnamon rolls neatly lined up inside. Lots of times, after romancin' one another, we like to share a little treat in bed. He had already consumed one today, and was going on and on about how good they were. While he turned to the stove to stir the chickpea soup I had on, I pinched a bit of one off to sample it.

I took a bite, chewed once, chewed once more thoughtfully and immediately burst into an unexpected wash of hot, miserable tears.

He turned to look at me, and in the voice that he reserves for the children when petting them, said, "Baby, what's wrong?"

He knew it was nothing physical, because when I am hurt I cry out in pain quickly, but then get very silent and focused on ridding myself of the pain of injury. I don't cry over physical ills or woes.

"This cinnamon roll," I choked out, "It tastes just like my memaw's....." and that was as far as I could get before another small hiccuping sob took over and he folded me in his arms, placing one hand on the back of my head. We stood like that for several minutes, me shaking and crying quietly, him pressing his lips to my forehead, until I could compose myself. Then I explained to him what troubled me so.

It was not that the cinnamon roll reminded me of my grandmother's lovingly-prepared rolls, and at the same time it was. Since my grandmother died I have not been able to find a cinnamon roll or a coconut cake to rival hers. It's been like a closet pursuit of mine, a magic chalice that I quietly took some comfort in because it was unattainable. But now here's this cinnamon roll and it tastes exactly like the ones she so painstakingly prepared for her family. Just how many times have I declared, "There's not a person walking that can make a coconut cake like my grandmomma could, or a batch of cinnamon rolls, either."? And now here's this fucking store-bought roll that tastes every bit like she had a hand in it and I am swiftly and strangely crushed.

I am a total loon. Somehow this is revealing, but it is too disquieting a prospect for me to journey into Self-Discovery Land over this right now.

I fear becoming elderly a great deal (we'll delve further into that one later) but I have never for one minute in my life feared death. This has been especially true since my teen years. I guess the fact that she is waiting over on the other side for me lends to this lack of cowardice. If I die, then I'll get to be with her. I'll get to lie my head in her lap and feel her hand on my head, caressing it.

Sometimes I feel like she is so close, but so unreachable.....like she is just concealed behind some thin membrane, some tenative and stretchy part of our world and if I could just find that spot I would be able to reach through and touch her once again, feel her soft but firm hand in mine, smell the easy, floral essence she carried with her. Part of me takes pause every so often and I am agonized, knowing that she is present and I can't see her physically manifested. I want to just have her for an afternoon and pamper her the way she did everyone else, with that unfailing strength of character and grace of manner. I want to sit and have coffee and hold her hand and hear her laugh. I want to know her opinion on the world in general and me in particular. I want to ask her how she put up with my grandfather's shit all those years; did she really and truly love him, or was she his wife of over fifty years because that's the way they did it in her day? I want to know how she could have eight children and thirty-eight grandchildren and still manage to know us, to know us as individuals and make each of us feel special. Especially me.

I think she was probably knew me better than anyone in my lifetime has known me thus far, and that includes my own mother.

Maybe I am taken by this whole cinnamon roll matter because someone has taken away a bit of the magic that was my memaw. Some mere mortal can do something to the same degree that she did it while she was here (I hesitate to say 'alive', because she is every bit as alive to me now as she was then....now she's just unattainable) and that is a shock to the system. It lends to those brief moments of doubt when a little voice at the back of my noggin says fucked-up, grody shit like, "What percentage of it is real and what percentage of it is myth? Have you deified her unjustly?"

I haven't, and I know I haven't, but my brain is really great at playing the asides for me, the groovy dog-and-pony tricks with me.

I've missed her for so many years now; you'd think the missing would eat itself up, but it hasn't. I just want to be with her again. She understood me like no one else did, and she never even had to tell me that. Like the adage goes, "Those who speak don't know. Those who know don't speak." I've just always known without her speaking it. It's part of her magic, and I am fortunate to have been her grandchild.

Jett Superior laid this on you 1:28:20 AM :: scoop it ::

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2.8.2002 :::

I feel, in all honesty, that I must retract my last post.

This is because that I have found an honest need in my home, and it requires addressing.

Lovely readers, the unthinkable has happened. Upon opening the frig this afternoon, I found that I am slap out of Mountain Dew (proudly manufactured and distributed by PepsiCo). I think it would be just the oh-so-nicest of gestures toward my family if my meager but generous readership were to assure that this never was to happen again. We all know how my family suffers if I am not caffeinated enough.

I have provided a handy, simple way for you to donate to this most worthy of causes. Kindly click on the nice button below and donate to this most worthy of causes! Keep America Free! Make Babies Smile! Make Me Tweak Daily!

I thank you, and so does my innocent family.

Jett Superior laid this on you 2:26:37 PM :: scoop it ::

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2.7.2002 :::

Because my phone line has been iced-over and sporadic this week, I am just now getting around to posting this. Which, coincidentally, compounds my fury. Angry and impotent. Funfunfun.

I prolly can't add anything to the argument. This, this (<--I especially adore the fact that, like me, she uses the word fucktard as a noun AND an adjective) and this spoke it quite well, and very close to my own point of view.

Here's the breakdown, if you don't have the stomach to go and read it yourself:
Wil Wheaton, whom I have previously mentioned for his repulsive antics, has suggested to his readers that they might like to donate money toward a nice Valentine's Day shagfest 'for his wife' (uh, pardon me, young Wheaton, won't you be going out with her??) since he spends so much time away from her, working on his website 'for his fans'.

Let me briefly touch on my own personal objections to this:
~ Could young Wheaton not use his celebrity for a better cause than garnering donations for a fancy night on the town? Blogathon, perhaps?
~ Why is he special because he's broke? Do like the rest of us do, monkeyboy, and make a nice dinner at home if yer strapped for cash....
~ Wheaton gives nothing, and I mean nothing back to the blog community. Ever see him linking any 'commoner's' blogs? Ever see him comment ON them? He auto-responds a gross percentage of his e-mails, fer Chrissakes!
~ This is NOT the same as putting an innocuous button somewhere on your site to defray costs. This is guilt for neglecting family in favor of site.
~ The same people who are clamoring to give their last five bucks are the ones who rarely (if at all) donate to a worthy and respectable cause. *pardon me while I vomit* I'd bank on that one.
~ Valentine's Day is about YOU doing something special for YOUR beloved....NOT finding a way for others to foot the bill. Lemme tell you something...if *I* am the one paying, *I* better byGod be the one getting the fine piece of ass at the end of the evening.
~ The lovely Ms. Wheaton has previously asked her spouse not to involve her or her sons in any great degree with/on his site. She has also requested that he throttle back on the site some. Past activity on his site plainly shows that he has ignored both of these simple requests. If *he* doesn't value his wife (and by virtually ignoring her requests he evidences this), then why the fuck should his readership??

My own lovely Maxim Superior, who normally doesn't give two shits about the weblogging end of the internet, peeked in on wil's site to get the skinny for himself after I sketched it all out. His pacifist tendencies flew out of the window and he sent Young Wheaton an e-mail. It said something along the lines of, "Hey, dickface, after you rake in the cash from the saps, why don't you multiply it by three and send it on along to me. The money you are collecting for one fucking meal could probably feed my humble family of five for a fucking MONTH."

Well said, Mr. Superior. I just knew you had it in ya.

50,000 monkeys at 50,000 typewriters can be wrong. They certainly are this time.

Jett Superior laid this on you 5:20:04 PM :: scoop it ::

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2.6.2002 :::

Okay, I signed up for Blogger Insider and all I got was this lousy t-shirt my first COUPLING was with nerdboymikey. You can see my questions and his answers over at his place. Here are his questions and my answers; don't forget, mikey loathes caps!

1. my standard question for women... what are you wearing right now?

My blue suede shoes. NOOO, really, it's pretty cold out today so I am presently wearing a long, bulky sweater and thick, floppy socks. My regular readers may know that that's it, but you won't, so I'll tell you: just those two (three, if you count the socks individually) things, and that's it.

2. the Amazing Jett Girl, Jett Superior... how'd you get those monikers?

I was a really active child, always on the move, always ready to 'take off', so my parents would say things like, "There goes our little jet-girl again!" But it didn't sound so Ward and June when they said it, I swear. My mom said she should have made my middle name "Go" rather than elizAbeth. The second 't' on the name came from a friend of mine in high school whose own nick ended in two t's. The 'amazing' came from a party stunt performed back in the early nineties. The 'superior' is from my own over-inflated ego and from meeting up with my online partner in crime, Dirk Belligerent. I saw HIS name on ICQ one night and immediately fell in love with it. About the same time, I was starting my blog and needed a word to fill the 'last name' block. Kind of anti-climactic, really.

3. when i eat a kit kat bar, i always chew off the top wafer first, then the chocolate on the sides of the remaining two wafers, then i split those, and eat 'em separately... do you have any specific, strange eating habits like that?

Has anyone ever suggested that you seek help for your food issues? The only two things that come to mind are
a) when I eat anything sweet it must be accompanied by a glass of skim milk and
b) whenever I eat pizza I have to have a small cup of marinara to dip the crusts in.

4. ok, so you say you've got big hoots... when you're out and about, do men more often talk to them or to your face?

I can count the times on one hand that men (and to be honest, one woman) have just blatantly looked at my chest and spoken solely to it. More common is the 'flick-to-breastesses' maneuver, i.e. make eye contact while talking, flick eyes rapidly down to breasts and then up again, facetalking-flick-facetalking-flick-flick. This makes me laugh every time, the whole gross show of 'subtlety'.

5. what aspect of your personality is most child-like?

My sense of mirth. I laugh often (don't confuse that with manically and at inappropriate times, snoogums) and it is really unencumbered laughter. Sometimes I find it hard to stop.

6. are you a moaner, screamer, or mostly quiet?

Depends on several variables, but mostly I am very vocal. I mean, it only makes sense. I write and I sing, so words and sounds are intrinsic to who I am. Why should it be any different when I am horizontal or *otherwise*?

7. did you automatically assume i was talking about sex?

Of course I did. My potty mouth came with a matching potty brain.

8. i was.

I know, fool, you're of the male persuasion!

9. do people in general automatically assume that, since you live in Hellabama, that you're a hick?

A good percentage do....but I take no offense, because ultimately I believe this makes them more hick-like than me by default. Besides, I am one of those fiercely proud-to-be-a-Southerner types. The South has its' own great rhythm and a richness that's like no other place I've ever been. I've come to know, also, that the simplest of folks have a wealth of common sense, and common sense does it for me every bit as much as heady intellect does.

10. do you prefer taking pictures or having your picture taken? or dya always have a mirror handy, so you can do both?

I don't mind having my photo taken, but I KNOW what I look like. I prefer to capture the world I see around me. Every person with a camera in hand has a different perspective on things. Pictures that you take can often be more telling than the ones you pose for.

11. what's your secret weapon when it comes to getting out of trouble?

Depends on who I'm in trouble with. Blatant honesty has always done the trick for me. Barring that, sheer intimidation works really fucking well, you know?

12. do you remember the name of the first boy you kissed?

Yes. To my way of thinking, there is something lacking in a person who cannot remember the name of their first smooch-victim. His name was (ironically enough) Mikey. He kissed me, but I definitely kissed back.

13. last question, and i know you love music, so... ok, so you're anticipating a night of wild, dab nasty sex, and you want to burn a CD of fuck music. ya got 15 songs, list 'em:

(In no particular order)
'Dirty Boots' ~ Sonic Youth
"The Scratch" ~ 7 Year Bitch
'These Arms Of Mine' ~ Otis Redding
'Your Body Is A Wonderland' ~ John Mayer
'tbd' ~ Live
'In A Lonely Place' ~ Bush
'One Time Too Many' ~ P.J. Harvey
"You Belong To Me" ~ Bob Dylan
"Come On In My Kitchen" ~ Robert Johnson
"Sweet Lover Hangover" ~ Love And Rockets
"To Love Somebody" ~ Nina Simone
"Supernova Goes Pop" ~ Powerman 5000
"I Wish..." ~ Drain STH
"You Knocked Me Out" ~ Linda Perry (featuring Grace Slick)
"Witness" ~ Sarah McLachlan

I hate having to narrow the music down; there would have been about fifteen more....

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:42:13 AM :: scoop it ::

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Ahhhhh, fer tha luvva Pete!

Jett Superior laid this on you 12:43:01 AM :: scoop it ::

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2.5.2002 :::

So there are some tubtints hanging around the bathtub and Mathias and I got to playing around with the color spectrum.

We started with a red tablet, but it was rather diluted and seemed more pink than actual red.

So then we decided that a yellow tablet was in order, fancying a niiiice orange bath. It came out peach. Quite a lovely shade of peach to my way of thinking, but peach didn't meet Mathias' exacting three-year-old standards. We added another red. Uhhh, no.

We chucked in another yellow and had the MOST BEAUTIFUL shade of orange you could ever hope to see.

That's when it all broke down. Ya see, I got greeeedy, my brothers and sisters, and chucked in a blue. Just one eensy blue. Which led to a bath that was not quite black, but a-l-m-o-s-t.

It was, in all truth, the color 'sable'. I liked it in a wicked, shameless sort of way.


Jett Superior laid this on you 11:53:20 PM :: scoop it ::

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I received today what I think may be my all-time favorite search referral from Google:

did romans eat tomatos

And I am number THREE, can you dig it?

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:33:02 PM :: scoop it ::

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JettSuperior: *beth no here*
Unxmaal
: where's bef?
JettSuperior: *she booted up and walked away*
Unxmaal
: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Unxmaal: : cries :
JettSuperior: *I am her wild-eyed alter ego*
Unxmaal
: @_@
Unxmaal: ok, pretend you're beth, and
go read my page
JettSuperior: She told me if a guy named eric comes by to offer to be his love slave for a nickel.
Unxmaal
: hmmm
JettSuperior: So, you got a nickel?
Unxmaal
: well, my name's eric
Unxmaal: and i have a nickel
Unxmaal: coool!
JettSuperior: works for me!

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:20:50 PM :: scoop it ::

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It's sleeting the big nasty out there and that makes me thankful that I am in here, listening to the crackle as the ice/snow/wind concoction hits the porch, the sidewalk, the streets.

Thank you God, that I don't have to sleep out there tonight. Thank You that I have a roof and four walls to hold the heat in, and that the sound of the weather is a soothing backdrop rather than an unwelcome intruder coating my face and the back of my neck with its icy fury.

Thank You that right now all of my loved ones are accounted for and safe.

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:15:25 PM :: scoop it ::

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2.4.2002 :::

I Googlewhacked on my second try.

Neener-neener.

Jett Superior laid this on you 10:26:48 PM :: scoop it ::

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NO SHAME: (because there is no shame-free way to do it...)

Nominate me, Potsie...

For something, anything at all. I thought about using the word 'fuck' in every single post at least twice so that I could secure 'Biggest Potty Mouth', but I damn near do that anyhow, so maybe a little creative cursing is in order.

I don't care anything about the prizes, I am just a glory-hungry Dirty BitchTM.

/shameless plea for recognition in some area of something

Jett Superior laid this on you 7:25:45 PM :: scoop it ::

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Geocaching is the fucking FIRE. Part of my income tax refund is now earmarked for a handheld GPS unit. I can smell the impending obsession now.

Jett Superior laid this on you 6:44:22 PM :: scoop it ::

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I pushed blogstickerstm over the 1K stickers mark. I am wicked-vicious-rad like that. You can see my submissions here.

Try it, pal....it's highly addictive.

Jett Superior laid this on you 6:32:17 PM :: scoop it ::

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Lest I forget, Using Bees To Effect Vengeance.

I was cosmically drawn to him, I swear. I typed the phrase 'raison d'etre' in a pending entry this morning then I fell across his site to find, while simultaneously being taken in by the content (interested....eegads!), that he had the same phrase nestled there. CoInkOrDink? I think not.

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:47:39 AM :: scoop it ::

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A reader directed me on over to toasterovenhead.

*SWOON*

I wish I knew who that reader was (I only got a vague aol e-mail addy...). I would like to send him a picture of my boobs (they're very nice boobs) because that site made me laugh so mothereffing HARD.

Jett Superior laid this on you 11:38:57 AM :: scoop it ::

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Smile, toots....it's gonna be a great day!!

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