Yellow Dog/Bleeding Heart

It's LYLE THE PARTY GOAT!!! Also the only goat to ever grace the hallowed halls of the University.  The Pony Pasture! It was worth falling asleep drunk in Muller's bed in the barn-house just to be able to wake up and see this beautiful sight in the morning. That's Polly - the coolest Cobb in the pasture - and her baby, Veronica with Amy (?) and Tom - the Bart Simpson of horses who used to chase me and try to bite my ass! Rev - the pony that tried to kill me! Yes he did ! Shut up Muller! I still keep his shoe over my front door to remind me of my narrow escape from death. Am I correct that this is Rev too? I think it is, but I don't remember. The only time Muller and I have EVER exchanged harsh words was when trying to load a pony in the trailer and Muller got mad when I let go in order to keep from amputating my right arm. I don't remember which horse, but I know it was a looooong and silent ride home in the truck that day. It was also the LAST h...

Muller, Good Dog and me at the pony pasture late 80s It's official: I have become alarmingly withdrawn from social contact. Not really a good place for an ex-agoraphobic to be, but at least this time my withdrawal is due to actual choice, rather than fucked up devastating biological disorder. This school stuff has truly taken over my life! Ack! But I am already digressing ... Today my best friend in the whole world called me at work to check on me and see if I was okay. It'll take a bit of background to understand why this was such a significant gesture. Muller and I have been buds since we were 16 year old punk rockers hanging out at underground clubs. I don't even remember how we met. I could have been during a then frequent spray painting expedition - hell, it might even have been the very night my little crew almost got arrested for spray painting an actual breathing, though passed out, bum. We might have met during an also frequent late night foray into an abandoned ...

I like Aerosmith. There. I said it. Should I be embarrassed about this? Or should I be more embarrassed by the fact that before this weekend I could not have named a single Aerosmith song? Okay, that is not entirely true because I was familiar with Walk This Way - but only because of Run-DMC (Da Kings of Queens - hollah Muller!) And I guess somewhere amidst the pop culture databases in my mind I recognised that Dude Looks Like a Lady was sung by the only man with lips larger than Jagger. But that was really the extent of it. While I am shaming myself, I may as well admit that I can still only name two Led Zeppelin songs: Stairway to Heaven (duh) and D'Yer Maker . I only know the latter because one of the cooks in the restaurant I worked in throughout college sang it ALL THE TIME. As far as naming the members of this seminal band ... well, aside from Robert Plant I can't. I even just cheated and googled just to make sure Plant was actually a member. I guess I just missed the...

The other afternoon a younger co-worker told me goodbye. "Goodbye," I replied, and then, in my mind I heard the phrase, "Be a good girl!" At first I wasn't sure where that came from, but it triggered the memory that my mother always added that phrase after telling me goodbye. "Bye! Be a good girl," she would call as I went out the door to kindergarten. The same phrase followed me even into adulthood. I guess my mom felt it was important for me to be a "good girl" and she programmed that into me from day one. My mom meant well, but there were repercussions. I tried so hard to be a good girl that I never made waves. Even during those years when I had pink hair and spent my days sleeping and my nights at punk rock gigs I still did my very best to be a good girl. I was such a good girl that I married because it was the "right" thing to do and stayed in an unhappy marriage for almost a decade. I try very hard not to program unhealthy not...

Okay, so I have one week left until this semester is over, after which I am taking a three month break. Trust me, I have had a lot to say - just no time to say it. That will all change next week when I begin to post my many catch-up posts. Until then, please read this article about a friend of mine and his family. I admire the hell out of these people and his wife has become my hero .

Life's been keeping me busy. It's almost Christmas and my brain is still stuck somewhere back around November 3rd. Seriously. But, since I promised Muller a picture here's a quick post. Zombie Morning: Pre makeup or hair "biggening." Just sleepy nearsighted me. Full on Zombie: You can't see my Bride of Frankenstein forehead beehive, or my yellow/green decayed fake teeth, but trust me. They were there. As were ornate Mexican silver earrings that were severely tarnished to an almost black. Damn I do good rotting flesh! I was an awesome Zombie! I still can't believe I got beat out by a friggin' clown. Sigh.