Merde!

I now have no home *and* no job Around 3pm today they told us that the company sponsoring this project was pulling the plug on it. Not enough business for us to clean up.

I don't feel too bad, though. It was all supposed to be over last Friday so at least I got a couple of more days pay out of it.

Time to mail out some more resumes.....

The Best Of (Part III)

I wrote this one night at about 4:00am when I was feeling particularly nostalgic about 'All The Boys I've Loved Before' (well, if not loved, at least dallied with.) Although I've been known to jokingly refer to the current men in my life as my 'she-harem', I really do think of all of them, past and present, as something of a rogues' gallery.

There are several rather unsavory definitions of the word rogue in Websters but the one I mean when I talk about the men in my life is: "A mischievous person; a scamp." That sums them all up; each one a scamp in his own way. Some of them in jeans, others in Armani.

I never would have thought of myself as boy crazy, but I have come to realize how much I love their smell and feel; how much I love having them in my life. Many women fantasize about celebrities, not me, no mere celebrity could even come close to making me feel the way I do whenever I think of the men who I have crossed (and am currently crossing) paths with.

I should put this behind an LJ-cut but I'm feeling too lazy tonight.

****************************
Tonight I’d like to tip my hat to the men who have passed through my life. There have been a few more then I’d care to admit to my mother but probably not as many as some of my friends might think.

There were the ones who I wanted but didn’t return my interest, there were the ones who wanted me but didn’t capture mine. There were the men who treated me like a big sister and the ones who made me their whore. I’ve got to mention the one who kissed me in the stairwell when I was in high school; the same one who broke my heart in college. He was sweet then and I bet he’s still as sweet.

Some of them came through my life with the whiff of destiny about them, we were fated to be together. Others were like pirates who snuck in before I even knew they were there. Some made me beg and others came crawling on their hands and knees. (A crumb of affection can be the most powerful magnet in the world.)

There was the man who told me at our 20th High School Reunion how he used to watch me run across the courtyard of our high school because he liked the way my (generous) breasts bounced. It’s funny what people will confess after a few drinks.

One day I met a man who was a baby, complete id, and we became babies together and I bound my feet and married him. When the nightmare began to leave fresh blood in my tears, I escaped, the shame of my failure like a scarlet letter on my insides.

A strange angel touched me. He kissed my scarred dream and helped me make her beautiful.

This is my bright and shining gallery of rogues. I carry a thousand tiny torches for them in a million different ways. Each of them has left a microscopic tattoo that I will bear forever.