black hawk down

whilest i'm blogging about purple mascara and smooth pink sheets, shit continues to happen.
just because YOU don't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there.
i already knew that.
did you??????????????????

livin' la vida low key

my mom and i always seem to get along better when there's nobody else around. she came into town friday night, and we had a downright good time all the way until she left this morning.
shopped our guts out, ate junk food (which is currently rotting my guts out (TMI, sorry))and stayed up late. she didn't have to worry about bossing me around in front of other people, and i didn't have to figure out how i was gonna let her bossiness roll off my shoulders. all in all, it was some good mother daughter bonding.
i got a purpley dress for my cousin's wedding--very cute...and still have the rest of today and tomorrow to find the mascara to go with it!
looks like my friend from oklahoma isn't coming down afterall. seems she's having some sort of endless back spasm situation that requires heavy doses of narcotics...that and four kids--she needs narcotics. there goes my nose piercing, and studded choker. (i did, however, find a leatheresque mini-skirt in my closet as i was going through it this morning)
i already took two trashbags full of clothes and shoes to the mission (ashamedly, you can't even see a dent when you look into my closet, though) did 2 loads of laundry--put the pink sheets back on the bed, read a magazine, sang a song, and still have several good hours of daylight ahead of me.
looks like i'll put in some quality time at the park this afternoon...what i'm really looking forward to, though, is seafood alfredo for dinner. i have the wine ready to go~

moulin rouge

alright, alright, alright already.
i will find purple mascara this weekend. i promise.
my partner in crime will be in town from oklahoma, and we usually go galavanting around--last time she ended up with two new tats. this time we will be more reserved, and shop for spikey necklaces, tight leather skirts, and PURPLE MASCARA.
gitchey gitchey yaya dada...

research?

http://homepage.mac.com/nikkienikks/iblog/C294808266/E910814554/Media/cnn.html

rare 'n ready to go

fully equipped with 192 minutes of sleep, i am energized.
in two days i'll be singing right along with alice cooper...begining the summer of me.
what a difference a day makes.
24 little hours...

free bird

the best thing for the bird, is to let him fly
broken wings or not
as an eagle
he will soar
no matter what
my role
is to let him

knowledge

I know how to make chicken soup, and left some in the fridge
bottom shelf
i know that i didn't sleep as well last night
and that laughter is good medicine
i don't know everything you do about the things you know about
but i know some other things that you don't
and i'll teach 'em to ya
so then you'll know, too

simple things i like

watching my garden grow
the smell of lilacs, spring rain, and brand new babies
knowing the answer
a good hair day
sun rise, set, and shine
my soft pink sheets
coming home to someone
big macs
first nation peppermint tea
the song "jessie's girl"
sex in the city shoes
a good deep breath
the sound of windchimes tinkling (typing tinkling makes me giggle)
laughing outloud
saying cal-poly san luis obispo

burroughs

busy today, but this came across my desk...all things i already know, but sometimes forget--


The lesson which life repeats and constantly enforces is to "look under foot" You are always nearer the divine and true sources of your power than you think. The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are ('s a common theme, no?) do not despise your own place and hour. Every place is under the stars, and every place is the center of the world.

vistas

i just got a book called the 1,ooo places to see before you die.
i've been to 14.
looks like i'm gonna be extremely busy for the next 60 years or so.

i hit a snag...
had a trip planned but had to take an unavoidable detour.
disappointed at the fault of no one (i'm always confused as to whether or not that's one word or two)

friday night, i spent some time with a friend i hardly ever get to see anymore. she was the first person i met when i moved here almost 13 (i can't believe it's been that long) years ago. people say we look like sisters. i don't see it.
she's a very churchy person, now. great mom. great eyes, beautiful smile. she can make five bucks into 500 quicker than anyone i know. she was talking about this past year, and how hard she's been praying to God for guidance---i know you aren't very religious, she said. like guidance from God has never occurred to me? i am not YOUR religion, i replied...but sat there a little stung. i think she was trying to be polite, saying ..well you are very spiritual, as if that was some consolation prize.
two things i don't get.
i guess i do get them, i just think people are more openminded than they really are. why do you have to be a religion, anyway? everyone thinks they're the only ones getting in.
what's more, why does my ego care what anyone thinks? she is my friend afterall, and one of my best ones, really. it's not like any of my friends really think the same way i do...

watched the mavericks lose. assrangers win. my betrothed was on the mound.
i got a bunch of stuff together for this trip that I'm taking to Honduras.(more on that later)
i ate sushi.
i worked like crazy in my yard. mowing. trimming. and in between, i caught some rays. i'm worried that my pervert neighbor is gonna let his part of the fence rot, and then i'm gonna require some sort of proper bathing suit in my own backyard. last year, i dug up the grass, and mixed some dirt with the red clay that we have here, and made a little garden patch. well, a month ago, i bought the tomatoes, peppers and basil. finally got those in the ground. i was so excited, that i went out there first thing this morning just to check on em...i think they're already growing!

what i'm not saying here, is that i'm tired. worn out. just plain ole don't wanna do anything else alone. yes, it's a great world, and you don't need another person to complete you, but fuck. i've heard all my jokes over and over again. i've seen me in every outfit i own. i even went five miles at the park tonight. that usually helps. not today. today is just a bumpy day. (i'm stealing this from someone i read earlier) i know that tomorrow is another day, but that's not comfort to me this minute. it's a beautiful night. i'm gonna go sit in my beautifully manicured back yard, count stars and contemplate my navel.
i'll probably have the solution to world peace by morning

Ram Dass

The next message you need is right where you are.

bubble bubble toil and trouble

i'm trying to embrace this. having a tough time.

HOW THE FUCK DID I GET FOOD POISONING????

i eat nuts and drink profriggingtein shakes!(soy at that)i think it may have been the tuna, actually. i know that i am not posessed and that it is food poisoning. i don't like it. it had better get the hell outta my system pronto. i am not asking it anymore. now i am demanding this...this...whatever it is, leave now. and take a different mode than it has been accustomed.

poison leave me now. let me sleep.
here's where i'm still working out the rough edges. i could meditate this away. it will relax me enough to sleep soundly. i can muster the strength to type, but not sit my ass on the floor and make myself better. ok. i can do this. i WILL do this. i'm doing it.
i'm so sleepy. thank God for coca-cola and crushed ice. and for babies and sunny days. i have to go. i think john denver is trying to come back to earth in my body.

the legend of pollyanna

i'd like to give you a brief history of me.

i was born a poor black child. well, i wasn't black, i didn't see people's color then, but we were poor. and i had a ridiculous name, and my mother thought she was jewish, so i was an outcast. smarter than 98 percent of my class through elementary school, i was inquisitive and my only little boyfriend was in 6th grade. jeff ferguson. he was a smoking dirtbike rider. i broke up with him because we didn't even hold hands...i didn't return the stick pin he got me, though.

i smoked and drank from the time i was 12.

my mother was not EVER nominated as mom of the year. she had a strong right hook, and i believed her when she told me she'd cut my tongue out if i didn't stop crying. once she threw away all my toys--i think i was five. she left me bumped and bruised and in need of stitches...i could go on about that, but will just say that it went on throughout my childhood, until we had a fistfight my senior year in high school. the man i call my dad, is not my biological father, but is the father figure i have always known. i love him, in spite of the fact he was such a wimpy yellow belly, knew my mom's m.o. but did nothing to stop it. i paid every one of his bills in 2003, because he was too depressed to work, and i stayed pissed off at the person i called a fucking bitch piece of shit... for 35 years. now she's just my mom. and he's just my dad.

attended temple as a child, couldn't learn hebrew so didn't make a bat mitzvah, and drove myself to catholic church (like my friends) when i got my license. i now align with no organized religion. have always believed in God.

in high school, i was known as the slut. the girls hated me. and the boys chased me even though they had girlfriends. the slut moniker was not true. i didn't even put out. the first guy i had sex with, my boyfriend, artie villano, dumped me immediately after our session. i already bought his fucking christmas present.

i wanted to be popular. i never was.

my brother is five years younger than me, i remember the day we brought him home. i have treasured him his whole life. thankfully my mom spared him her hand. he was an extraordinary geek. i beat asses all over the country on his behalf. to say that i am proud of the man he has become would be a gross understatement.

i have lived in michigan, new jersey and texas. travelled to other cities, states, and countries.

i used to make lists of people i hated. not in a colombine sort of way. but just a list to look at, so that i could actively loathe people.

got a worthless liberal arts degree in college, drank to my heart's content, and actually learned a vast number of things. i went on to be a cop. stayed at that department for a while, but then quit because i didn't know how to be passive. became a squeaky wheel. not very political. i learned some incredibly important things on that job. and i was good at it. was very angry when i left. had dreams about the job for years.

bartended, worked on an oil pipeline, baby sat, cleaned houses, worked for a tree trimming business, sold diamonds, dresses, vitamins and medical equipment. waited tables, sold plasma, and ended up as a teacher. and i'm good at it, but i want to do something else.

back then, i carried a chip. carried it in my arms, on my shoulders, even dragged it behind me. it weakened my back for the better part of 35 years. i always felt like i had something to prove. like i had to produce proof that i was worthy of anything. attention, affection, time, money...i talked like a sailor...and continued to smoke and drink.
never married and no kids that i know of. nobody ever asked.

have always struggled with my weight, and built its reserve to 220 several years ago. lost that and the man who enabled that life. still no bikinis.

one day, i got virul pneumonia. i had no insurance and a 105.5 temp. i thought i was going to die. i didn't know what i had. didn't know if it was cancer or aids. all i knew was that i had no strength to fight. so i didn't. the doctor pumped copious amounts of i.v. vitamins into my body. my mom came home and took care of me. she helped me shower and dried my hair. for two weeks i slept in a chair because i couldn't breathe.

the next few years i went through an epiphanous stretch. i learned about my body. lungs. oxygen. water. pysche. soma. about the system that so many take for granted. the finely (or sometimes not so finely) tuned machine that we inhabit here in this lifetime.

i remembered my academy driving instructor's instructions. i began looking at the big picture.

everyday became only a grain in my hour glass.

i read books about everything.

i learn.

patience.

silence.

giving.

forgiving.

my first grade teacher, mrs linton,'s lesson...the golden rule

began to understand.

i try everyday.

all the rest of what i learned and continue to discover is for another time and blogspace. don't think for a minute that you are the only one who has ever had their heart broken, been blinded with rage, or wished a mortifying death upon a person. don't think you are the only one to have inflicted pain, or cast hate. in as much as you are not the only one to have felt that raging negativity, i am not the only one to learn to embrace joy. to make the best of the seemingly bad. the world is my oyster. and yours too. i have proof if you need it. but you don't. you have your own. you've just forgotten it.

my blog about you

you're tall. not as skinny as before, but it suits you just fine.
I like you, in spite of the fact that you don't really like baseball(matter o' fact, i wore that ranger t-shirt the other day)
i know how you feel about post roast, and i'll make it for you-that's just the kind of girl i am.
don't get a big head, but i know how smart you are.
don't feel dumb, but you have no idea what you're talking about; my good can kick your hate's ass.
it's gonna be cold, but you're gonna have fun-i'll make ya laugh.
you make me laugh.
i knew you didn't die.
you should give your sister a break.
my karma CAN overcome curses, but i won't take any souveniers, anyway.
i can't wait to see you in your fancy prom suit. are you getting me a corsage?
i think you should grow your hair. i wanna see how close to napoleon you look, you liger.
for whatever the worth--i wrote this, in its entirety, naked.

no ifs ands or buts about it

I rule.

not to be confused with JaRule, whose music I do not listen to.
or follow the rules, which I will not comment on at this juncture.
or slide rule, which makes me giggle just to say outloud.

shiny happy people

I love Lucky Charms. Not silver or gold ones, the cereal...you know--the magical cereal with sweet surprises (I really like Apple Jacks, too)...there is absolutely no purpose in that announcement. No hidden agenda. No punch line. Not even a story...today's title however, I ran across while perusing other blogs. Now I can't get the f*ing tune out of my head. In college, I drank and smoked to REM...S.H.P. does not count. Radio Free Europe--now THAT counts!
I went to see the assRangers get spanked this weekend. Scored some decent seats, not from my intended, the seats were just as good though. Just behind the opposing on deck circle. Around the 6th inning or so, in between at bats, up on the Jumbotron, some guy and some chick were just standing around. Before you know it, in flashing letters, a profession of love and a marriage proposal appeared. She was shocked, and he knelt with the ring box in hand, hoping that she didn't humiliate him in front of 45,000 people. She did not. I was elated. A conversation ensued. Seems that the opinion in the seats was somewhat divided. Would I like to be proposed to in front of 45K people???? HELL YES! The more witnesses I have, the easier it will be to convince others who have wagered against it. Not only that, I think it takes an extra large set of cahones to profess love in front of all those people on a Saturday night. It would be better than actually getting asked to couple skate (which, as you may have guessed, never happened to me)Most of the men in the surrounding seating area, weren't all that keyed up about it, though. They wanted to do it in private? Such a personal moment should not be in front of so many others? WHATEVER. One guy was in from Chicago...gonna propose to his girl pretty soon , but cannot do it like that at Wrigley because they have no jumbotron. (cop out)
(...On a side note, I saw 3 people in my surrounding area donning the choking yankmee t-shirt...why do assRangers care???)
I think, so as not to turn blue waiting for my proposal, I'll just pay the thirty bucks on my birthday and get my face plastered on the Jumbotron that way..

PS...I was within 6ft of Johnny Damon. He's hot in a long haired baseball sort of way!!