Pillow Book

I'm ready for the new year! The last one I had was less than satisfactory. My resolution this year is not going to be 'to loose weight.' It very well could be, but it's not. I have already lost about 15 pounds in the past month or so. At this rate I'll be a sickly flat-chested waif by summer. It would be pointless to resolve to do something that I have already begun to do. And none of that 'to be a better person' garbage! I am already being the best that I am capable of-all things considered. I have two goals for this year, one is to not date anyone exclusively. I have not gone longer than 6 months without a boyfriend or husband since I was 17. I'd like to break the cycle. Maybe get into a new routine that involves healthy relationships and time for Irish to do what ever the hell she wants. And if that means that I don't get "laid" as BoxRocker so eloquently put it, then so be it. Sid Vicious described sex as "boring, ugly, hippie shit." I do not agree entirely, but I do not disagree. Goal number two: I will visit a state that I have not been to already. Which leaves me with about 46 choices. Top of the list would be Louisiana, Pennsylvania, maybe New York. I plan to wait until Angelbaby is on holiday with her father for the week. I'm just going to get on a bus with a backpack and a smile and figure everything out when I get there. It could be disaster and I will not complain. Because I will have been anywhere but here. Happy New Year from me to you.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 08:45 PM | Permalink

I must be mad. Yes, I'm quite sure of it. Mad. As in Crazy. My eccentricity allows me a lot of leeway. But I miss the drummer and that is madness. I think partly it was sparked by a book I got for Christmas. Henry and June by Anais Nin. The extent that I relate to this Anais woman is infuriating to me. I do not respect her, I don't even like her, but I am like her. While I have never known lust for another woman (despite what you may have heard about my Christmas Party kissing shenanigans), I do know how suffocating it is to be married to someone you adore but simply does not stimulate your intellect. To think, if only I had taken a lover I may still be happily married today. Not that I am fool enough to actually believe that. But I do believe in the love that she shared with her lover Henry. The Love. The love that is nothing. It goes nowhere. It's only purpose is to exist and nothing more. It knocks the breath out of you quicker than a hard fall. It's a poetic love and it is my favorite one. It was the love I shared with the drummer for years before we ever dated. And I miss it. I never cheated on anyone with him. We went years without even speaking. But when things got bad, in the back of my mind I knew my drummer loved me and I loved him. I won't speak to him. The phone bill is still in my name and I won't even call him to settle it. I just don't believe in beating a dead horse. Or speaking to a man who may or may not have ever loved me at all. I'm going stir crazy. I'm afraid I won't be kissing anyone in Birmingham on the New Years. DJ Geisha and I have just nailed down plans for a road trip to Huntsville. I don't remember the name of that band that's playing and I honestly don't even care. I just want to breathe again. Song of the Day: It's a Sin, PSB

Posted by Irish Geisha at 06:39 PM | Permalink

Took Angelbaby to see the Lemony Snicket movie today. Every Christmas Santa Clause brings Angelbaby at least one book. This year it was "Book the First" in A Series of Unfortunate Events. This being our first non-picture book, I was a little worried that she wouldn't give it a chance. I was wrong. So far we are on chapter 3 and she is enchanted. As we were walking into the theater today I asked Angelbaby if she thought seeing the movie would ruin the book for us. My child genius said "No, probably there's more stuff in the book mommy." I love that kid. So, the movie. The best metaphor for life I have seen in a long time. I would even go so far as to describe it as transcendent. I can't recomend it enough. Maybe I'm just infantile, but some of the concepts these children learn I am still striving for in my own life. Plus, the imagery was brilliant. Hideously beautiful if such a paradox can exist. I guess you could say I liked it and I look forward to reading the story to Angelbaby.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:12 PM | Permalink

I have labeled this picture WTF! It has been on my blog as a draft post for almost a week. I did advise Liesl I would be posting it with a dissertation explaining the wrongness there of, however I don't think that will be necessary. The picture was taken at the afore mentioned Christmas party from the loo.( See the shower curtain rod?) Also pictured is a "Prozac" promotional clock. And a cable connection. A CABLE CONNECTION IN THE BATHROOM. What's that all about? The only place a television would fit in this water closet is in the bathtub. And how much Prozac do you have to consume to get the free clock? And that's all I have to say about that.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:05 PM | Permalink

Last night was the circle of friends 5th annual Christmas Party. Held at the home of Liesl and her new hubby. I have not attended the event the past couple of years. Not because I wasn't invited but mostly because my exhusband either hosts the party or shows up with his barely legal, punk-rock wanna be, flavor of the month. To recap-after two beers Irish becomes an ass. So, it has just been best that I stayed away. He was not able to attend this year and so.... I won't admit to every drink I consumed, but there was: wine, tequila shots, and at one point there was a beer for each hand. Cheers! I don't think I pissed anyone off. I hope I didn't. I did threaten to kill someone but it was all in good fun and he ended up dryhumping my leg in the dining room later that evening. Some band (Always the Runner) was crashing in the apartment downstairs after their gig at Cave9. Liesl couldn't convince them to play for us but they did accept the invite to crash the party. I must say they were a delightful bunch of cuties from Louisiana. I hope they go far. Back to my drunken stupor. Like I was saying, who needs mistletoe? I kissed on the mouth and/or licked the cheek of at least half of the ladies and gents at the party. Then we moved the party to the Plaza. More people to kiss and still no mistletoe in sight! I heard that someone in "the circle" was concerned that I might be trying to make a love connection. Just to set the record straight, I don't have time for men who are already taken. I do however have time to flirt with whom ever flirts with me. And that is how I ended up tongue kissing the doorman at the Plaza. (For some reason he wasn't actually working the door last night.) I am proud to say I did go home alone. Not that I wouldn't like to have someone special to sleep beside me. I'm just enjoying my freedom for a while.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:46 PM | Permalink

Couldn't bring myself to finish that lame ass list. I'm not going to delete it though. It just serves as a reminder that when I said "I'm just a girl." I was not being humble. I totally stole this pic from Andrew's site before he took it down. I'm fairly sure it was taken in front of the Thomas family home. Maybe Liesl or Tori can verify that. Enjoy.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:55 PM | Permalink

Since the season of hell has arrived I can't seem to think of anything positive to write about. I thought I'd just do "the list" since most of the blogs I've read have at least one post of this nature. I don't think I can make it to 100 but I'll try.
My first name is 9 letters long.
My birth certificate lists 3 middle names.
I have a kid.
A girl.
I wanted a girl.
I have a dork fetish.
The last book I read was White Oleander.
The last CD I listened to was Billie Holiday.
I like Tori Amos but not Kate Bush.
I hate dogs.
But not cute dogs.
I have a cat named Speckle.
He's black and white.
I wreck every car I own at least once.
I have reddish brown hair.
It's natural.
Yes, I can prove it.
I have one tattoo.
My nose and ears are pierced.
I like the smell of tornado weather.
I have been fat and thin several times each.
I have an unhealthy relationship with food.
I love it!
I will win the lottery!
Wal-mart is the anti-Christ.
Cosmopolitan Martini is my drink.
But I will drink Woodchuck if it's available.
13 is my lucky number
I hate having curly hair.
Strangers often say they have seen me before.
I have never traveled out of the south.
The four states that touch Alabama to be exact.
I am a pack rat.
I collect perfume bottles.
And tiny buddas.
I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ...
I do not attend church.
Elvis is Dead.
Nietzsche is also dead.
I prefer glasses to contacts.
I don't need either.
I've met LPD but I've never heard their music.
I'm not ashamed to say I like pop music.
And synth pop.
And J-pop.
Sugar does not belong in grits.
It goes in Iced Tea Super Action Kevin!
Favorite Song Today: Something Big-Jim O'Rourke
Favorite Song Yesterday: Flow-Transister
I fantasize about meeting Quentin Tarantino.
I guess 50 will have to do for now. Maybe next time I'll try one of those A-Z lists.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:32 PM | Permalink

First HemisphereDancer gets a .com. Then Super A. Kevin. I feel so primary.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 11:35 PM | Permalink

I am happy to report that I have forgiven NHP for the whole I need a man comment. After all he is a man, and why wouldn't he take that opinion. Besides, men do come in handy from time to time and as soon as I'm over the bitterness from the last man I had, I'll be sure to get the new & improved irish spring scented replacement. The end of last week. Friday NHP, Tori, and I went to two art openings. The first was a joke! It was held at the "Art and Wine Something or Other Crappy Gallery." The place was a closet. An over-ambitious closet. Once we crawled through the doorway to Narnia, we were greeted by the White Witch- a middle aged blonde from Amsterdam. She was probably beautiful once upon a time. Her handshake was like holding a cold jellyfish. It was her job apparently to inform visitors that the artist could not make it tonight. Her whole being translated into English as plain ol' creepy. When we explained that we knew the artist and really just came to support her, I half expected Ms. Amsterdam to offer up some Turkish delight just to keep us there. What I saw of Christina Roy's paintings was fabulous but we couldn't get out of that hole fast enough. The second art stop was at Naked Art for the Kitsch-mas ornaments. Everything was definitely titled correctly as kitsch. I do love that sort of thing. I just didn't see anything I couldn't live without. After Naked Art we went to NHP's apartment for some refreshments. They decided to go out to the High Note another one of Birmingham's fine establishments that I can live without. Instead I opted for a short visit with Monkfisher. I stayed just long enough to gaze at the incredible view of the city from his livingroom window and rummage through all his stuff rendering him a nervous wreck. ( I like to test people's boundaries.) Saturday I spent every last dime I had on Christmas gifts for angelbaby. Got a flat tire on the way home. I'm seeing a pattern here with my car. Broken windshield, expired tag, 2 tickets, flat tire. Is there such a thing as car karma? I haven't hit anyone lately. Yes, I said LATELY. After that, I wasn't in the mood to go out so I went to bed early. And now it's Tuesday. Gilmore Girls, the only TV show I watch religiously, was a rerun. I'm starting to get a little stressed about bills. Geez I hate the Christmas. I wish those bible beating republicans in office would recognize how pagan Christmas really is and declare December 25th a national unholiday! Or something a little less kitsch.

Posted by Irish Geisha at 09:06 PM | Permalink

I've never been much of a music Nazi. I like what I like and to each his own. But if I was to DJ my day- so to speak it would have surely started off with Leonard Cohen. I got 2 tickets from Birmingham on my way to work. #1 ticket-expired tag #2 ticket-no proof of insurance.(my card was expired as well) Unfortunately there wasn't any Cohen in the car today, only Lust for Life from the Trainspotting soundtrack to mock me. When I got to work our new compressor was too loud for me to hear my favorite morning show. I missed the "un-Vulcan-believable" game. Instead I had Nora Jones stuck in my head singing about "...I've got to see you again..." This was brought on by a daydream of The Hot Guy that works in my building. It would never work between us, he's too pretty. And no Cohen. By lunch time I wasn't in such a bad mood anymore so I sang along with Tori Amos on the way to the bank. Bachelorette. I returned only to find that the radio station had been changed and I was being bludgeoned by the sound of Luka World. The half brit half Alabamian who isn't good at being either. Her accent belongs to a pirate if you ask me, "me lovelies." After listening to a 30 min conversation about nothing between Luka and some half wit suck-up "Oh Luka, my wife loves your show" I had had enough. That wench has probably never even heard of Leonard Cohen. I told the guys that I loved them truly but heads would roll if we didn't change the station. They gladly complied. We listened to some young'un- Tom Waits wanna be, which wasn't half bad. Then someone who was obviously holding out put in the new (sort of) Jeff Buckley. RIP. Wait just a minute, is that Cohen I hear? Why no, tis Jeff Buckley singing Halleluhah. Close enough! And for the ride home? "Don't throw your faith in others away, because we have ended this way..."

Posted by Irish Geisha at 08:52 PM | Permalink