Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Turn the page (punk girl grows and grows)

Okay its a snowy day in America and Its my birthday.  I could wax poetically about what its like to be another year older, but I wont  Its not like I'm a 100 years old but I am older.  I got myself a new Franz Ferdinand ring tone for my phone yeah me.  I'm doing everything I would normally do except that we are off for the week for midwinter break so I'm taking more naps because we all know Punk girls need their rest. Its my 46th birthday but my 18 year old son Say's when he gets up Happy Birthday, hows it feel to be old.  I mean your almost 50.  I bit back the feisty retort and said, It feels pretty good and I meant it.   Except for the aches and pains that come with age and my chosen profession (no I'm not a wrestler) I feel good about where I am now and am looking forward to keeping moving forward. 
I took time to peruse the Netflix and saw they had episodes of felicity and firefly.  I have become engrossed in watching them.  I relate more to Megan on felicity without the anger issues and the money, than I do felicity.  I just love Joss whedon productions because he did a great job with Buffy and Angel.  It had its sappy moments but In large part it was a good show.  It was nice to chill and enjoy the fun of the shows again.
Any who Punk girl has gotten older and thinks the fun is just starting but do they make clubs for people who get  tired early and now have arthritis in places that used to rock?=) 
Keep the faith and live large And if your near a place to party do so on me.   
Marta

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Punk Girls and Mamahood

Okay. clearly im past being sick and crazy in the last blog... lets move on.




What happens when a punk girl meets boy? a Beautiful boy, with dreamy eyes and gorgeous curly hair and skin like satin.  She hugs him and kisses him and calls him son.  What happens when a punk girl becomes punk mama and has a son.  
Well it was scary.  What does she know about becoming a mother?  Not a bunch, but just like any other mom she gets it as she goes along.  I thought being a mom meant not being (punk girl) any more.  It just meant that  that (punk girl) changed a little.  I still listened to my music and loved my clothes but I also had a son who I was introducing to life.  I gave him the cure and Mozart, P funk and the all stars, and the Dead Kennedy's.   I watched him love hip hop, and hard rock and EMO and goth, and finally develop his own style.  Much more like mom than I would have imagined.  I guess the point of this is that, we adapt when we become parents we give them the best we can and hope for the best.   Ive been in love with this boy for 18 years on Feb 3rd, we made it together and I wish the best for him.  I give him the world.
Now my readers.  (if I still have any)  Its okay to be who you are despite the fact that some family will say oh its time to grow up leave that (punk) stuff behind.  You can't leave what  you are behind its what makes you a person and its what you give to everyone you touch including children if that's whats in your picture.  Good luck and happy parent days for those of you with children.  p.s (I love you N happy bday tomorrow. love PUNK MaMa)

Friday, January 20, 2012

What happens to punk girls when they get nasty sick and have to take care of other nasty sick creatures.

Okay a punk girl in her teens and tweens often does not have to care for other sick folks and may not take care of herself or actually be ill.  But Oh my godlessness what happens when the body gives out and you get dunt dunt daaaaaah  the virus from hell, the flu and pneumonia all at once.  OOps forgot she also has two kids in their tweens and teens who are also oh don't say it.   I said don't say it   shut up you crazy broad.  (they are sick) the teen at the same time as I am.  Oh yeah lets bring me up to speed Ive been away.   I got married, had kids, got edjamakated, learned to spell (whatever) and got a job that (I LOVE) with autistic kids .  then got the freepin pneumonia, flu, virus from hello.   okay I don't sleep for more that ten or twenty minutes every two to three hours when the violent throbbing breast jugulating lung separating  love that song (American boy) happy new year oh excuse me is deliriousness  year of the dragon rocks go dragons.  wait I'm hallucinating again I was sick and the little girl is sick and now she is at camp cause she stayed home and got better and then I got that tickle and son had the tickle then we had temps of 102 and 104 and the Dr. said your sick (I'm like Duh) learn that in medical school.  Mean punk girl rears her ugly and I mean ugly head (cant comb hair head hurts looks like straw and dust bunny hairs)  okay sick teen boys are so gross, If I wasn't afraid he would cut me in my sleep (I would tell you) okay in a week I will tell you anonomously don't tell anybody.  Okay teen sick boys with pneumonia are droolee and gross (no more said)  Punk girl goes to the dark side okay watch out I'm getting a lighter and I'm setting teen boys room on fire and burning his clothes and maybe even him (run away sick teen boy run away)  Punk girl grown mom is now having a twitchy eyed (look out)  I'm sick  you should be afraid.  I gotta take a nap I'm so tired of coughing the new way to get a sick six pack. well zip it up honey, punk girls gotta clean the house so when tween comes home from camp she will not be reinfected by teen boy and psycho momma.    The end comes,  When punk girls have children and they are loved we take our punk hair which we are working because we are to sick to comb our hair so the spike is totally rocked.  Punk girl gets pissy pulls up her doc martens and staggers the house sweeping and wiping and dish washing and spraying antibac spray.  then she retires to the couch where she has slept for a week and then she sleeps and the world say (its about damn time) keep her off facebook to.
love Marta

Okay folks dont be hating the blogger she was demento

Im so sorry please forgive me now lets get ready to rumble im writing again....
marta

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Alternative Day Singin a Sing Song Days

What happens when in the act of living every day life, you realize that you have lost something? You spend 1/2 the day looking for your keys, by the way, they're in your pocket.

Under the bed, ooh shiny, found your glasses. Yeah, my Punk eyes is old bifocally. Okay, I found stuff, but I didn't find what I lost. Perhaps I should rephrase that. Who I lost. With a sense of desperation, I searched for CDs but most are packed, as we are moving. Where is mahharet? Where is the edgy wild thing? I love her. I miss her. Where did she go? Is she coming back?

I looked at pictures of Peter Murphy and Iggy Pop and Peter Gabriel, and I realized that somewhere along the line we looked old, but I forgot my self and became mom, taxi driver, top & bottom chef and a third world washer woman. Out of desperation I begged Comcast Music Choice to feed my soul, and after unlocking the TV MA lock, I blasted the music that fed my soul. Butthole Surfers, the Pumpkins, Bowie and for a beautiful moment "Red Rain" fed the desert of my soul.