puppy 

I love my tommyboy 

when archie and jughead drink too much rumpleminze-it looks like this. 

what is on the inside  

someone has been drinking all day, and someone wet himself and got put outside...can you guess who id who? 

sunshine and tommy 

lazy afternoon in the Gita household 

This is my boyfriend taking a nap with the love of my life... 

Meet Tommyboy...6 pounds of puppy love 

sweetness 

am I a fool? In the strictest sense, yes-we all are...but I am talking situationally here.

Spanky,you, in your efforts to be protective are leaning towards patronizing.I don't think Killer cares enough to take advantage of me. If I throw him some vagina-fine. If I all I do is get drunk and make an ass of myself-so be it. I have been aquainted with him for a year now-and nothing has happened...we have drank until we couldn't see,shouted politics, made some people uncomfortable,made each other uncomfortable, parked his car and stared at the sky-and nothing. One night before I left for Italy we were silly drunk in a parking lot across from work...I asked him to kiss me and moved in closer...he shook me off and went to his car.

I am the one with the problem.

If I don't contact him,he doesn't contact me.

I just enjoy him somehow. Probably the same way someone enjoys another person defecating on their chest-It is messy, it stinks, but there is a pleasure you can get from nowhere else.

maybe if I were single I wouldn't care for him. Maybe if my boyfriend pleased me more often I wouldn't care either...but something about feeling that heat, accidently finding someone aroused under their slacks,imagining them inside you, their skin in your mouth...the fanstasy of not knowing.

I crave passion.

Passion for me is a heroin sundae with a crack covered cherry.

cherry...huh.

He describes you as a serpent. I am standing in the doorway watching as you sit there,backlit and casting shadows on the while. I am pulled from the doorway and escorted home.

He is sitting at a corner booth facing the door when I walk in. The table is shaped in a U and is low to the floor and I feel like I am entering midscene in some d-list mafia flick.As I approach, I hear as he turns to the poor hump next to him and says "she speaks five languages", which besides being inaccurate, isn't really all that important.I make note of it by saying "I don't really care, I wouldn't expect you to either.Now I am at the table and I feel 50 feet tall and we are just smiling.

5 languages...I wish.
I just want to know YOUR tongue.

he stumbles out of the broken down cadillac into the three ring circus of the city...Memphis is cold and untouchable and I stare into his eyes and they smile. He fumbles in his pockets and pulls out the shimmering white powder which glints and gleams in street lights, tail lights of passing cars...he pulls out a set of keys and generously helps himself to nose full of winter-I turn to him and say

"sniff that off my tits and let's fuck til dawn"

and so it was...

cut to scene...I'm sitting in a dive bar with my hand in his lap. This is bad folks, not only because I am married, but because I have no intentions on finishing him off. He is an odd choice and I find that exciting.The bartender brings us jager and I feel like a vampire,laughing. I want him.

1/29/66

Last night was odd...how do I explain it or where do I start?? Everything started out normal...Spanky came to the Mistress at the pub and we had a beer...we went to the Buccaneer and we saw Killer at a table. Now,Killer and I, if you have read my blog-are horrible together. There is a definite chemistry between us-and remember, chemistry can lead to a bomb...Killer and I in the same room is like a moltov cocktail-literally...we drink,argue about our non-relationship, flirt relentlessly,argue some more...its kinda like a scene from "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe" or possibly a really bad outtake from "Barfly". Last night was no different...Except for the fact Spanky's virgin eyes were there.

we walk out of the bar and he starts screaming at me.I am quite drunk and now I am scared.
I have him take me to the nearest safe spot and I jump out at a stop sign.He is begging me not to go and promising me that he won't hurt me- but vodka or no vodka-my instinct to flee is strong...I travel alone,I HAVE to trust my gut...

What Spanky doesn't understand (attn spanky) is that getting drunk and flirting with a redneck is as close to exciting as I get these days...I am living a pretty conventional life...man,house,work,school...we are still in the bar business-so think less roses and more rumpleminze...

apologies to all...including Killer-and his beer soaked slacks and ego

a lady, sometimes



always

fishing for something... 

some people live their whole lives under water... 

and some people, in a moment, drown

feeling a bit schizo theses days 

A palace walk
In between
The lines lay ,
Truth,
yet defined
By the tongue
Slowed,and tasted

Riddles
He carries
A soft,but heavy load
The mind,
Still,
A prison
Closelykept,
Reticent, Solipsistic,
Unlocked.

He speaks
Syntax,Con-Text
Only words
"ephemeral"
As fingers
Brush the lips and remain,
In an act of Possession

Flawed ,
Free,
Standing there
Her watching
Him Leave
another building
Abandoned
Conversation
read In between The lines lay,
Truth undefined, D
is-solved in the night
Riddles
...and the body has its own...

I feel this heat...visceral,sexual..."Ho fame ragazzi,ti giuro"...Can't rid myself of certain...urges...He's out there, I can feel it...worn slacks,pull over jacket, cookie cutter car and life...no one you would notice..."Ma la voglia, la voglia e piu grande di me"...we haven't really connected in months, but in these weeks he has woven himself into my dreams...square jaw, soft lips..."forse sogno di lui perche ci siamo incontrati un anno fa"...maybe it is the smell of fall as it dies into winter, he smells like that in my memory...light beer and dark cordials...he smells of not remembering...

There was an ice storm here last year...the dirty city closed down under a clean blanket of white-and stood still. I curled up at home, emptied bottles of red wine and listened for him in the music and the melting snow...a whisper.

I knew then as I do now, the feelings were one sided.

I was to him a girl sometimes a woman...a liberal, a comedian, a jew...a traveler,a loudmouth,a bartender...many an archetype, stererotype...but hardly anything special...

he enjoyed the beer, the banter-but nothing special...I would be, like all other women to a him, a port in the storm and a notch in his belt...

but I still want him...wish I had the guts to indulge in him, just once...

His office is near where I live now...I could slip in during lunch under the cool veil of winter-and end it...one taste would, I assume, transform him from object obsession to a man like any other-with hairy places and odd smells...nothing new or undiscovered...nothing I haven't had before...

morality is a curse and monogamy is wrath

Hey Killer,

so you are going to be 40...in what...2 months?January the what???13?21?Hmmmm...what do you want for your birthday? Do you have a private office or do you share

>who was that guy with you last night? and why does heknow you so well???also that mississippi state girl seemed fond of you...I can only imagine why...There is a CD I play while bartending-I bought last year with some Kudzu tip money-(obviously not your tipmoney-cuz all the money you tipped the whole time I worked there wouldn't equal a CD)-anyways, it remindsme of you...considering we met around this time last year...the smells,the weather...i know you won't come to my bar...but I work saturday day downtown...and sunday day...I'm staying downtown and may go out for a few...can you take onefor the team and join me for a little banter-even if it is one at my bar and back to your niche bar

-MG

greece...5 years ago I Island hopped with a friend and did all those stupid things an american girl would do in Greece...I would sell a kidney for another shot at a sunset on santorini...oia.

man...I am going to be working with the same c-list crew I was working with a week ago-so I, the recovering marxist,will be firing someone.

So I was having one of those nights where I felt I was the last person on earth...Fighting with my boyfriend, disinterested in the bar scene, too tired to work on my research project and having recently broken off relations with my jacuzzi tub-I had nothing to do but turn on and tune in to the endless flow of disenfranchised ads and souls we call cyberspace...There was a pop up ad for eharmony, ya know that web site that claims to unite the lonely...I figured what the hell.for a week I didn't get a hit, because of my "unique" personality, and then-a flood. see I said that looks werent important...so I began getting all the profiles for people that chose not to share their photos...so here I am, a personal clearing house for those with low self-esteem, a last ditch resort for asexual humpbacks in memphis...

...so I sit the servers down and I,the most-supportive-of-the-plight-of -the-worker manager,writes up my staff...and it should have stopped there...but no,this is memphis,where common sense was fucked out of the gene pool (if ever present)sometime around the civil war...I mean, "The War of Northern Aggression"...so my servers decided to tell me that I needed to staff differently (which I told them was true, the obvious change being swapping them out for a more competent duo)and a laundry list of things that really had nothing to do with them,me or the price of a pint of guinness...wow. So what does the Mistress do? She sucks it up, acts professional, and slowly-quietly-deliberately- plots to take over the world...

so I work in a restaurant...that should automatically tell you two things about me: I drink and I have a reason to drink. For those of you who aren't familiar with the industry, let me cultivate you a bit...it is an industry that accepts strays...bring us your hedonistic,self serving, transient, immaculate, working mothers, working girls,drag queens and drag asses...and I, somewhere in the middle,lover of food,good wine, great conversation...individual liberties...travel...lover of love, passion and all its instabilities...that said...I work in a restaurant...and last night I almost lost my mind...I never wanted to manage, but it was the natural progression of things...oh, and entering a management was what I call the "the Golden handcuffs" to make 2 grand a month talking to people and dropping drinks, I had take the keys-which means responsibility-accountability.Last night, me, non power hungry, trying to keep the boh vs foh peace, had to write up my whole front of the house...I had my constitutional law midterm the following morning so I couldnt send them home and wait tables myself until 4am...to be continued