Plop, plop. Fizz, fizz.

oh, what a relief it is. bullshit. there IS no relief. at least not tonight. i can't sleep, so i may as well write to all of you people. all 2 of you. the rest are weirdos with a sick, guilty pleasure to read my blog. tonight, i can't seem to get it together. i keep getting out of bed to read, or to take more miscellaneous pills, of which the supply is dwindling down to nothing, and none of them seem to have much effect on me anymore anyway. i need a refresher, my own shit, now that i have a necessary evil we call health insurance, which we use primarily for drugs and birth control. for christmas this year, i asked santa for lunesta and xanax.

i'm not a religious person, but tonight i prayed. totally against my will, gritting my teeth, clenching my fists, struggling with the words- prayed. there are just some things i feel i need in my life now, like peace and joy. and goodwill towards men. whatever. i prayed for peace, joy, the ocean, a house on the water so i could hear the waves crash over and over again, every day and night. i picture myself in this house, with a large, wrap around porch, where i wear my long, warm robe and hold a hot cup of coffee in my hands, looking out into the endless sea, and reflecting upon my successful life, hopefully before my parents die. and right now i'm in the middle of community college and a job that owns me. no equity in my house due to the shitty economy. no light at the end of the tunnel- yet. it took a while for those pictures of obama to kick in, the ones that say "hope." i get it now. we all need some fucking hope, and really, he is, at this point, our only hope at getting our shit straight. our only hope, like that guy in star wars. who was that guy? jaba the hut? no- he wasn't the hope. he was the giant glob of phlegm that wanted to molest princess leah. right? anyway, you know what i mean. got hope? does anyone know where yoda is now? wwyd? or dwwy?

look. what i wouldn't give to get on a damn plane right now and fly to some tropical destination. no plans. no return ticket. just a nice hotel with massages and room service. lobster. a sip of champagne. and soft slippers. ocean view. warm, humid breezes. mmmmmm...... i ask for an island calendar every christmas so i can look at each month's picture and dream about being there. the best one was a hammock over the white sand, shaded in between two palm trees, right next to the water. i'm lying on that hammock and smiling, in peace, and happy. my daughter is bringing me margueritas and gutting the fish that she caught in the ocean with a spear. how talented she is! like tarzan. without all the monkeys. and that blonde whore. yes, a hammock and the ocean. too much to ask? i know! i'll write the tom cruise fan club and ask how he did it in that movie "cocktail." what was the name of that bar? i don't know, but it was pretty gay. oh, "cocktails and dreams". all the dicks in "cheers" had cocktails and dreams- look where it got them. fat with more cocktails. i bet tom cruise never got fat- jumping up and down off of oprah's couch all the time. so maybe it worked for him.

well, i'm glad i had a chance to lift your spirits tonight, or today. check back in for another good dose of optimism. you'll need it to start the day, for christ's sake! i love you guys...