Laura Laura Bo Bora Banana Fanna Fo Fora

Heavy Bison Benchpressing

Yes... I've been watching Brat Camp with the kids... more just as a cautionary tale...

I've also provided myself with my own "Spirit Name"

I'm off to meet with Jenny Craig on Saturday... seeing that I haven't been this HEAVY since 1999.

doh!

Sharing is for suckers

I’ve always been a selfish girl. Super selfish, like… deep down dog dirty selfish. Richard even has a tattoo on his shoulder for me that says “hummingbird” because hummingbirds are as crazy selfish as I am.

When I was a kid, my parents used to be horrified when they’d start singing “Happy Birthday” at Farrell’s… they knew it would only be a matter of seconds before I would burst into big gulping sobs because the party wasn’t about meeeeeeeeeee….

The only occasion that could elicit a more primally negative response from my inner core than a Farrell’s celebration-not-for-me is when I see the volunteers here at the hospital bringing their “flower” cart my way… and they pass me by! Seriously, I find myself fighting down the urge to jump up and knock over the cart so NOBODY gets the flowers versus trying to decide if it would really look that obvious if I went online and sent flowers to MYSELF.

If only Richard were as big of a pushover as my Mom was back in the day… I’d SO be rocking a lovely arrangement of posies in the next 2 to 4 hours to outshine the one that just rolled past my door.

Check out the grown up girl...

I was reading through some of my old stuff and was shocked to see how many times I wrote out the eff word... and I was shocked to realize how much it bothered me.

Everything is going much much better and I've even been trying on the whole "grown up" thing for size.

So I went back through and pulled out the eff words and threw in an asterisk if they were really what I was feeling at the time.

Its so weird to be older like this and less dependant on my old salty friend eff.

"Strange days indeed. Most peculiar, mama."

The Talk, Part 2

(People can be so gross... I have to re-post these because the comments got "spammed")

Originally posted: 10:02 am November 20th, 2003

So after I recovered from his explanation of what really happens – I went into the basic description of what “having sex” really is. I tried to not be too graphic because, well... I was also trying not to vomit. Anyway, of course, he ask “so, do you and Dad do that stuff” and I said yes... the poor kid blushed (while I dry heaved).

So then he started asking questions – “what’s that funny feeling I get?” I explained what an orgasm was (for men and for women) then he said he thought teenagers must be having sex ALL the time (I choked).

We talked about being responsible about sex and how a girl gets pregnant, then he started on the tough stuff... “so Mom, on Will and Grace, how come Jack is different? Why do they call him gay?” oh dude...

so I explained about Jack and about what gay men do... seriously, he put his head in his hands and started laughing – totally embarrassed – and said “I did NOT want to know that”… of course then he asked if girls could be gay too... so we went there also. He wanted to know what they use since they don’t have a “weiner” and yes... I explained what they do, not too graphically but among other things, he does know what a strap on is now... lordy.

so then we talked about respecting other people and the choices they make. He asked about AIDS and I explained that too... then he asked if gay people “have a hard time in life” and I talked to him about Matthew Sheppard and he was totally shocked. So we talked about how its like how funny people are about skin color and he mellowed out (he was so surprised that someone would hurt a person for that reason).

THEN he asked me what it meant to be a “boob man” and I explained about how different people like different body parts, he asked what his Dad was and I laughed and asked him if he remembered Daddy’s favorite song - pause - “you mean ‘Baby Got Back’”? I laughed and said yes, so he said “so you mean Dad likes your BUTT?!!” I almost fell out of my chair. So I explained the song (which they put in Shrek by the way) and he asked me what an “anaconda” was, and died laughing when I told him.

Somehow that lead us back to “porn” (which was the lead question for the conversation) and I explained what it was and he was pretty disgusted by it (thank god), so we’re talking about it and all of the sudden he blurts out “well then... what SHARK PORN???!” all indignant and shit (he got it from a Friends episode where Monica catches Chandler whacking off and he switches the channel really quick to some Learning Channel thing about sharks and she assumes that Chandler is getting off on sharks so she rents a video about it and while he’s watching it in shock trying to figure out what the hell she’s doing she asks him “does this make you want to thrash around?” – it was hilarious).

So we closed the conversation by clarifying that Chandler was not into sharks as sex objects.

He was so relieved about “knowing everything” but said “Emma is TOO young to know this stuff” and “boy I’m glad you told me this stuff Mom, I think Dad would have passed out!”

Whew... gotta love that boy.

Since then, we’ve caught him choking the pope twice – so his Dad talked him into closing the door when he’s having some quiet time alone.

I'm so not looking forward to Emma's turn.

The Talk, Part 1

(People can be so gross... I have to re-post these because the comments got "spammed")

Originally posted: 01:00 pm November 17th, 2003

So a year ago today, we’d all just gotten home from our day, I’m watching TV and folding clothes – Emma is doing her homework and Alex is kickin’ it and playing his gameboy... we were watching Friends and they were talking about sex as usual and all of the sudden he busts out with “Mom... what’s porn?”

Oh.

My.

God.

I knew this was it... it was time. Although I’d been preparing for a year, I still didn’t want to believe it... but I’d taken the advice of a friend who’s been there and she said “just wait for him to start asking questions” and I knew by the way he looked that he was good to go.

So, I shooed Emma away and we sat down... after many disclaimers “do you really want to do this now... do you want Dad here... are you sure you’re going to want to know this stuff...” (yes – no – yes) I launched into what “porn” was...

I said “Honey, porn is when people record themselves having sex” and he very seriously said “ohhhhh... okay, yes... sex... I get it, I know about that” (I started shaking) and said “oh, you know all about sex? Why don’t you tell me what you know...”

This was when he got nervous and reluctant to talk about it so I reminded him that we’d already covered quite a bit of territory (the single handed workout)... so then I asked him to tell me what “sex” was... here’s his explanation, word for word:

Sex is when two people go into a room – they shut the door and turn off the lights –

THEN [big dramatic pause] they start kissing –

THEN WOOSH!!! all of their clothes come off –

THEN they get into bed

so he takes another big pause and I’m listing to this and thinking “ohmygodohmygodohmygod he already knows!”

and he finishes with:

THEN they fall asleep but the next morning when they wake up, they have NO memory of what happened the night before but they are TOTALLY in love

Dude... I almost had a stroke trying not to laugh. This was the funniest thing I had EVER heard (until later on in the convo, believe it or not) at any rate, words cannot express how much I love this kid... needless to say I blew his mind when I explained what actually happens...

I’ll write more soon... we covered everything you could imagine, even sexual shark appreciation.

Props

I just want to give a big shout out to the person who got here by searching on Ask Jeeves for “mexican bora sex”.

How fun for them to instead find my ramblings about traffic woes, children and the wonders of being zaftig.

That'll teach 'em.

Smooth Criminal

My biggest, deepest, darkest shame was laid open for anyone driving down Beard Road this Saturday to see… I, Laura Beth Duarte, have been driving without a license for since 1993.

WHAAAAATTTTT you say?

How could one a hefty as I travel so stealthily throughout Northern California’s highways without pause? Well… it wasn’t that easy. I always looked over my shoulder and never went above 55, even when they raised the speed limit. Plus, the few times I was stopped, my fear of incarceration caused me to shit myself in a very tearful way that usually got me just a warning.

Not this weekend. This weekend I committed the dreaded triple threat of vehicular f*ck up. I was on my way to work while having a wicked fight with RD on the phone and as I was driving down Main Street with its fifty million stop signs, I concentrated more on telling him where to stick it than on the two wee stop signs I glided blissfully through.

This did not impress the police officer parked on Main and Pueblo. As I was screamed into the phone, it finally dawned on me there were lights flashing behind me. Somehow I just new I was entering brand spanking new territory. How did I know this? Wellllll… not only was I driving without a license but RD was leaving for the DMV that morning with the paperwork necessary to get the tags for both vehicles. That paperwork included my proof of insurance.

So lets recap, what did Mrs. Duarte NOT have on her person when pulled over by one Napa’s finest?

1. Her license.  The photo on the one she does have is hilarious since it is conspicuously missing several chins.
2. Her proof of insurance. Although Mrs. Duarte was insured, she was informed it does not count if you do not have that little “proof of” paper.
3. Her vehicle registration. What did not help is that it was 6 months overdue since Mrs. Duarte is obviously more afraid of anything DMV than she is of a dentist wielding drills and those mouth-holder-opener things.

What can I say? The guy came and got what little stuff I had as I did my best to smile politely without throwing up. He disappeared into his car for 27 minutes while I sat quietly sipping my Starbucks and watching all the neighbors come out of their houses to gape at the big big lady in her craptastic van being made to wait for 20 years by the cop.

I knew the jig was up when another police car rolled up as Mr. Take-No-Shit came and asked me to step out of the van. At this point, every single Cops episode I’ve ever seen flashed across my mind. Running was out of the question since I was on crutches, but punching him did cross my mind as the Red Rage of Menses clouded my thoughts while he informed me the van was being impounded.

Very calmly, I asked him if I could clean out our stuff and he said I could after he checked the van for drugs or weapons. I laughed at this. It took him another 10 minutes to root through the van before allowing me to collect the mountains of stuff the kids managed to store by their seats. His face dropped when I opened up the back and pulled out my wheel chair, and he proceeded to ask me about 20 times if he could give me a ride somewhere - I said no every time. Finally, I told him very quietly “look dude, this is my mess and I have to take care of it, I don’t want you to give me a ride so stop asking me”.

At this point, my phone rang and it was RD. I couldn’t speak so I handed the phone to the cop and he talked to RD for a while, I even heard him tell RD what street we were on and then he paused and said “I don’t get the impression that she’s going to wait for you though”.

After roughly 100 years, I finally had everything I could carry so I handed him the key and clomped off as gracefully as I could with 3 bags full of crap balanced on a Big Mama wheelchair. I made it about ½ a mile before RD got to me and ran over with a look that said “stop messing around and get your crippled ass in the car” so I did.

What is the moral of the story? RD got the tags this morning and had them sign off on the ticket. I still have to marshal up the courage to take my ass down to the courthouse to wrangle some way to get my license out of hock - and then I have the fabulous joy of attending my court date at the end of February. Although they’re supposed to keep the van for 30 days, since it’s the only vehicle we own that I can drive, we have to call in for a “phone hearing” and get it out early (after we pay whatever giganticus fee they want us to pay).

As for me, I’m not getting behind another wheel until I’m legally allowed to do so... somehow jail just doesn’t hold the zesty appeal one thinks it would.

What about the writing? The truth it seems…

Everyone looks back at the start of a new year… it can be fun, insightful, depressing or just lame.

For me, I started looking forward to looking back right around October.  To say last year was tough is such a simple statement.

One thing I miss more than anything though is that “spark” that used to push me to write my stories every week or even just daily babbling.

Its been missing for quite a while (which is obvious since I hardly post).  There were so many things that I lost or that got rerouted when I blew up my brain… my writing has been the hardest one because I used to have such energy when it came to expressing myself and now every word, every sentence is work… tough work.

With the list of other things I’ve decided to tackle this year, I’ve made a promise to myself and to you sweet internet, that I won’t allow myself to be intimidated by the memories of where I’ve been and even if I am, I’ll write about it.

(jeesh… SEE!!!! This barfy little post took me a half hour to write!!!)

Keeping it real…

Last Saturday I was sitting on the couch with Alex was at my feet, bundled up in his robe.  We were watching 9-year-old Emma bounce off the walls in her usual way. During "Mucha Lucha", a commercial came on for the Hover Disc and all of the sudden Emma went completely bugshit, blathering on about how she HAS to have the Hover Disc and if she could JUST have the Hover Disc and ONLY the Hover Disc for Christmas… her life would be complete.

As I sat dazed, wondering what the hell has gotten into her - my 11-year-old son looked up at me and said “Mom, you should be well aware that my expectations for Christmas are definitely higher”.

I’m still a little bit stunned.

Ascending...

Somehow, I’ve found a mix of several medications that actually seems to be working.  Richard has been in shock to see me return to most of the things I did before I got sick.  This has been the first real breakthrough I’ve had… one of those meds is an anxiety medication that keeps me from wanting to jump off a cliff all the live long day.

Its good to finally be able to say I’m doing better.  At one point it was something I thought I would never be able to say.