Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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In All Honesty...

I am in a very strange place... Every now and again, like fault lines, the cracks in reality widen a little and what lies beneath scares the shit outta me. When you don't have all the too busy in life to fill your days... you know, like a job or a husband that's around.. you tend to think about shit way too much..

My computer is broken.. Repairs will be hundreds of dollars so I haven't been online much lately. Which is nice.. don't have anything to say. Or maybe I have so much to say it will explode all over the monitor like a can of soda pop when shaken too much.

The Surge is home again. Then he leaves in a few days. It's tough to get used to someone, then they go.. Right when you adjust to them being home again, they're leaving. Fucking rollercoaster of this married life I lead. In all honesty I don't know what the fuck I'm typing.. Just relaying random thoughts as they flap through my brain. How is everyone? Somebody tell me a story.

Reader Comments (26)

Shall we get a little fund going and buy Monica a new computer? LOL :)
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterJen
I could tell a story but it's just too depressing. I don't think you need that right now. Besides it will be really depressing because I'm pmsing. UGH!

I wish you could come down with the boys this weekend to do AP, Baltimore and then Charlottesville, Monica. I'll be in Charlottesville with Sofia. She's quite excited about getting to see her daddy and the band play again.

I have other issues going on which has made me not have much to say. Just don't want to bring anyone down, be a complainer or spew my story and be judged at this moment.

You're not alone right now. I am in a strange place as well these days.....bit more stranger than you may be. :(
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterFiabug
Here's a true story that I hope will give you a bit of a laugh. I'm a lawyer with this one file that's tough, I called the client yesterday to see what he wants to do. His girlfriend won't tell me where he is, finally I get it out of her that he's in the hospital. The rest goes like this:
"he broke it"
"he broke IT?"
"we were doing it last night and his dick cracked"
"oh, umm, is he ok?"
"it's fractured, he has to have surgery"
"well, that happens, have him call me when he can".
(I found it best to pretend that I field 8-10 broken dick calls a day so she wouldn't feel worse).
I hope he's going to be ok, but in the meantime I'm also hoping I can play the broken dick sympathy angle a little bit anyway, it may be the best thing that could have happened....
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commentercheerup
When I was 4 or 5, I couldn't walk on a pier just because of those "fault lines," or in my case, the spaces between the slats where you could see down into the dark MOVING water below. I don't know if it was a depth perception thing, but I was deathly afraid that my 5 year-old frame would slip between the boards and into the murky depths. And that was after seeing that there was NO way I could even fit an edge of my PF Flyers into the cracks. It didn't matter. I felt that way, and no amount of my Dad saying otherwise could shake that feeling.

But I did. And you will.

As for your downed computer, if I recall correctly, there was a not-too distant time in the past when you were "The Girl Who" had a blog, but not a computer, so maybe this will be your version of Unplugged...

I do have a funny cab ride story that I'll try to send later!

June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterWry Bri
Oh fuggedaboutit... I can't beat a cracked dick.

No, really. Storywise or otherwise... you just can't.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterWry Bri
Broken dicks are actually more common than one might think. I remember hearing a story about how often it actually happens and I tried to research it,but no luck. Anyway that totally sucks for your client.
As for funny friends and I were doing some volunteer work a couple of weekends ago and we all got poison ivy....not really funny, actually it sucks. I never knew how terrible poison ivy can actually be....did you know that the oils last up to 5 years and it takes over 3 weeks to get rid of. Both my friends had to go to the Dr. to get prescriptions of steroids....SUCKS.
Now a really funny story. I was out on my lunch break today....I work just outside DC in MD. I was waiting at a stop light listening to music and a guy 2 lanes over from me is talking to me, but I couldn't hear him becuase he of my music. Once I realize he was trying to say something I turned down my radio and he was like "You are a real distraction!" I thought he said "You look really distracted!" So I gave him a confused look and he was like "That is a good thing". He then went on to talk to me about my car and ask me if I like it and what not. It was pretty funny and I guess kinda flattering. Okay so it is only sorta funny!
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commentermap
Damn it, I came here for a story, not the other way around. Maybe I'll come back with one...Enjoy your time with the Surge, no matter how short it is.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterHeather B.
Oh Monica
everyday I worry about you...checking to see if you have written anything and when there is nothing there I get a little bit anxious. Funny how I feel so close to your life but you have absolutely no fucking idea who I am. So let me introduce myself. I am Kathleen and I live in a Winona, Ontario, Canada ( about 40 minutes from Toronto). I am 36 and am married and have 2 kids that drive me crazy. My daughter will be 4 tomorrow and my son will be 6 in August. I work part time serving at EastSide Marios and make ok money for the most part. My life looks pretty ideal although sometimes I wonder. I wonder if I am a good enough mother, if I love my husband enough ( some days it feels like I don't anymore) and sometimes I wonder if I am going slowly insane.
It is hard when everyone looking in is envious and when you are looking out are envious. I know that I should be incredibly happy with my life, that I have beautiful, intelligent kids, that I live in a beautiful house, drive the standard family mobile (minivan) and have an incredibly supportive husband who loves me to no end. Yet at times I just feel like sitting in a corner and crying. Just so sad sometimes.
Life is hard...
Anyway that is my life in a nutshell...said a few things that I barely admit to myself but that's ok.I am very pleased to meet you Monica.
your new friend
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterkat
That it's possible to fracture a penis is certainly a revelation but I'd still really like to hear your taxi story Wry Bri, as I'm sure many others would too.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterNiedlchen
Well, technically you really can't *fracture* a penis, 'cause there ain't no bones in the damn thing, but it does make for funny conversation.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterchrissy
Boredom. No pain, no loss, no “what-if’s”, no psychosis, no sad stories, but only boredom. Bored to tears? No. Past that. To cry would bring relief, an understanding of what was, but is no longer. To feel would bring acceptance, but there is nothing to feel. I bleed to know life, to cause relief through pain. Pain, you let me down. Where are my little daily victories that used to come to me, bring me to life, offer up laughter and light? I can’t talk, the words won’t find meaning any longer, I offer nothing, and I have nothing to give. I see, sight takes life, life takes love, love takes care, care takes time, and time takes my life. Release the shackles of commitment, of what I am to do, of who I am to become.

'To die, to sleep ... To sleep, perchance to dream.
Ay there's the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause...'
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterBored linguist
The actual frequency of penile fracture is estimated an annual frequency of 0.33 to 1.36 per 100,000 inhabitants (compliments of the U.S. National Library of Medicine, it's all in knowing where to go for the information you seek). Further, fracturing a penis refers to rupturing the erectile tissue. It only happens to an erect penis and quite literally makes a "cracking", "snapping" or "popping" sound (sorry rice crispies). In an erect state, it really is like a "fracture". I am not a penis owner myself, but even the thought of this gives me the shivers.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterLucia's Dreamer
That gives new meaning to limp dick....
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterFiabug
Kat - I loved you how you introduced yourself. I think we all (or maybe just, me too) feel like sitting in a corner and crying some days. Thanks for sharing.
And Monica - thanks for keeping up the posts, even though it may feel like it's not worth the effort some days. Amazing how this little blog is a staple of so many strangers' daily routines.
And for my non-story. I'm currently vacationing with my family at the beach near the Florida/Alabama border - that's right, it's the Redneck Riviera. I'm from Texas, so I'm used to some crazy Southern lingo - but yesterday I heard a classic. A guy outside his ice cream shop saw us walking by and yelled out, "Ladies, come in! Y'all deserve to treat y'allsselves to some ice cream." Y'allselves. Of course!
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commenteremily
Here;s a tale...

Last night I was feeling those unemployment, personal estrangement blues, and decided to...

Cut what's left of my hair.

I'm balding on top, Larry Fine (3 Stooges) on the sides and back.

My sister, who moved in with me to help me survive financially, and who's mental health has improved drastically since being around the dogs, got me a beard trimmer for my birthday.

I don't have a beard.

Anyways, I was enjoying a couple vodka and grapefruit juices, and feeling a little gamey, so what better time to break out the old beard trimmer?

15 minutes later, hair is everywhere, and I have big fuckin' chemotherapy divets in my once, curly mane.

Now I look as bad as I feel.

Bad hair boy

PS. I'll send $20 to the fix the computer fund. Just tell me where and who to make the check out to? Even though it's 4 six-pack's of 16oz Old German cans, I'll make the sacrifice for the greater good.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterJoe
I've been concentrating, trying to think of a cute story from my observations walking in my pretty ci-tay (San Francisco), but I'm thinking too hard so nothing will come.
I will tell Monica why I enjoy her blog so much, other than the fact that she has such a nice way with words. When I was seventeen, I fell in love... with a bass player. It was, well, intense. I have always kind of wondered what my life would have been like if we had stayed together and he kept on his path with his music. It seems sometimes like Monica is living the life that I might have lived. Oh my gosh, it's 'Sliding Doors'

June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterKaren
I know this is none of my business, but if you're not working anymore, why can't you just go with him?
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterAnother Monica
I've talked to my client (quite happy on meds now); surgery successful; he ruptured numerous blood vessels and required over 50 stiches inside and a true guy, he seemed quite pleased with himself....I'm in for the computer fund.
June 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commentercracked dick update
What I'm going to tell you happened to me some years ago, when I was in college. (Sorry for my ital-english! :)
I was sharing an apartment with 3 other girls, one of which was never there, she came to stay 2 or 3 nights once a month or even less often, so that day I was very pleased to hear her voice coming from the stairs, happy to be able to spend some time together.
I was lying on the couch with my boyfriend, half-asleep, when she arrived. We weren't making out, just resting a bit. My friend was at the door of the livingroom and the only thing she could see from there was my hand waving hello from the back of the couch, and my boyfriend's legs.
So, thinking that the situation from her point of view could seem a bit "funny", I screamed out loud the following sentence, my hand waving hello: "Sorry if I can't come up, but I'm actually going down on him at the moment". This was supposed to be funny...
After a very long and unexpected silence, she said:
"Serena, here with me are my mother and my father... they just came by to say hello to you..."
It was quite hard to "recover" from the shock and to meet them after that... I still hope they didn't hear anything (illusion!), but the fact that I waited more than half an hour to join them in the kitchen didn't help to make them think I was only joking... :)

This is my first post, but I'm reading your blog from months. I really love your writing, and I feel for you in this difficult moment... I really hope you will find a publisher for your book... I'm one of those girls who would not be able to stop reading it until is finished... You rock! Baci dall'Italia
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterSerena from Italy
I'm in New York. Let's play. Cameras can come, but don't have to. Today feels like a soup day. Let me know if you'd like to meet, in a cafe somewhere with decent people-watching. Or... frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity.
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterStephanieKlein
Can't you make some money by putting some ad banners on this blog? I'd happily put up with that, if it would help....
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterjls
Speaking of penis's, and what not, here's a story. Happened in nursing school. We were doing our clinicals in the hospital and learning to do proper charting on our patients, so we had to write in the nursing notes an entry on our patient. My friend Linda was diligently writing her nursing note, and a few others of us were having a conversation about our favorite candy, chocolate, and what nuts we liked in our candy bars. It was time to turn our charting over to our instructor and she read Linda's note and said "Linda are you sure you did your best job"" and Linda proudly said yes thinking she had kicked ass on all of us. She had charted on a guy who had resolving pneumonia and was saying "pt. has dry nonproductive cough" But the teacher read it out loud to the class "pt. has dry non-productive nuts" Holy shit we died laughing. She is still my friend today and I still give her shit for that now.
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered Commentermama
yay! story time. Let me see, let me see.

Oh, one time at band camp. Oh wait, can't tell that story.

June 7, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterLiz
Haa haa on the nursing story Monica's mama. My favorite nursing school story happened when we were learning how to insert a catheter. Working on a dummy was Ryan and myself. Ryan is a younger, cool dude. Instructor shows and explains. Next up is Ryan. He begins the process and at some point teacher tells us that occasionally when cathing a man, he might get an erection from the "handling". So she tells us that we would stop, ignore it and come back in a few minutes. Ryan must have been daydreaming because now is his turn. He begins and the instructor asks him what he's going to say to this man who now has an erection. As he holds the dummy's fake penis in his hand "I'd say.... I see you have an erection." I started giggling and couldn't stop. Teacher says "What? You'd say that? What would you actually say to HIM" and he repeats that over... "I see you have an erection"....
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterTabatha
Put up a PayPal button, woman! You deserve it!!
June 7, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterEmily
So, I guess I have a story. A funny one, but at my expense. I was watching a parade with my now-husband and the group in front of us consisted of a pack of stunt motorcycle policemen. They were doing all kinds of formations, etc. and each motocycle had a big letter on the front of the bike. I was watching and reading the letters and then got concerned and looked around to see if anyone else was seeing what I was seeing. My husband could see that I was having some sort of issue and asked me what was wrong. I said, "They spelled it wrong." He asked me what was spelled wrong. I said, "The letters. Do you think they thought we wouldn't notice?" He asked me what I thought they were trying to spell. I said, "Indiana Police. But they just put an "S" at they end - do you think the "C" and the "E" couldn't make it? Or do you think it is some kind of special fraternal order of police spelling?" He started to laugh - I think beer even came out his nose. I was confused as to why all of this was so funny. Couldn't he see these poor policemen were riding around all spelled wrong? He said, "Babe, they are from Indianapolis." Oh. I see.
June 8, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterElizabeth

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