hollywood farm girl

I've partied with the farmers, I've partied with the famous. I think the farmers are more fun. I'm trying to braid my Hollywood reality with my real life reality, with my childhood reality, which was thisclose to a Romanian Orphan's childhood, with some Mommy Dearest thrown in for good measure. * these are my words, my thoughts: tammy lynn etheridge. not melissa's, not joe's, not sally's. and i own the copyrights of the photos on this site.

My Photo
Name: Tammy, midwestern girl/Mom
Location: where the emaciated folk dwell, California for now, United States

I am a poet, a wife, a mother, a baker, a philosopher, a lesbian.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

checking oscar.

nail polish.
check.

breast pump.
check.

pump accessories (baggies, plastic parts, scissors, marker, pump vest, etc).
check.

black dress.
check.

$1.2 million in diamond jewelry.
holy shit, check on that one.

heels.
check.

clutch.
check.

positive affirmations.
check.

girdle/spanx
check.

Honey.
check.

breathing.
have to work on that one.


the ocean is like a mirror today, the water is lacadasical in its tumbling towards shore. the waves bump into each other and wrestle to the sand, like a group of puppies on the grass. i truly do believe that life is what i make it. the life at my fingertips is simply a reflection of the life within my mind, within my intentions.

the winning, the losing... none of that will matter within a hundred years. so it doesn't really matter to me now. i hope that is okay. i think some people would rather have me ROOTING ROOTING GO GO GO WIN WIN WIN!!!!

but i don't care as much as i think i should.... life goes on. regardless of tomorrow night's outcome, fridays will still be chicken finger night in our house, you know? and my pride for Honey goes beyond any statue that might sit upon our mantle, next to my softball trophies and her two record players.


breathe in.
breathe out.
breathe in.
breathe out.
breathe in.
breathe out.

check.