Ah HA!

"President George W. Bush ordered flags at all federal facilities lowered to half-staff -- the midpoint on the display pole -- on June 6 until July 5, 30 days after former President Ronald Reagan's death."

Well THAT explains it. I've seriously thought everyone has lost their minds for a while there.

BY JOYCE JILLSON

FOR RELEASE: WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30, 2004

We're headed for the full moon in Capricorn on Friday, which will bring an emotional release from all this tension. For now, try not to blow your top at anyone -- this is all petty stuff masquerading as something terribly important. For that reason, it's best not to make any decisions in the heat of the moment. Everything looks different later.

"If only tonight we could sleep
In a bed made of flowers
If only tonight we could fall
In a deathless spell

"If only tonight we could slide
Into deep black water
And breathe
And breathe...

Then an angel would come
With burning eyes like stars
And bury us deep
In his velvet arms

And the rain would cry
As our faces slipped away
And the rain would cry

Don't let it end..."

the cure, If Only Tonight We Could Sleep

Your little bloggie is losing her mind.
Hormones? Love? Paranoia?
Who knows.

Times like these are difficult being a mother. I would like nothing more than to lock down my entire existence and tell the whole world to fuck off until I can take part in humanity without feeling like some small thing that anyone does is going to emotionally destroy me, or at least mutilate me. I am raw, exposed, and fearful.

So I sit here and wait.

It's only a matter of time.

I smiled at people all day. I'm sick of it.

Might this have something to do with the X repeatedly calling me again? He's called, what....4 times today already? At least 3 last night. We stayed up till 2 am the other day, talking...it seemed to totally help and it seemed like he was finally going to be a normal human I can talk to....oh how I misjudged that.

(long pause)

I decide to call him. Leave him a message on his machine and remind him about how he's not supposed to be calling, we just talked about this....how his calling and crying makes me feel bad, and that's shitty of him to do; hasn't he hurt me enough? So I call, since I know he's at work, and I hear Neil Diamond crooning,

"Hello again, hello
Just called to say hello
I couldn't sleep at all tonight
And I know it's late
But I couldn't wait

Hello, my friend, hello
Just called to let you know
I think about you every night
When I'm here alone
And you're there at home
Hello..."

...At which point I burst into tears and tell him that was particularly painful, thanks, and please stop calling me before I have a nervous breakdown.

Fuckin A.

I've got a hankerin' for a nervous breakdown. You know, where they lock you up and pump you full of drugs and you can just chill for a while.
Of course, if I do that I won't be able to accomplish the things I DO want to do. And it occurs to me that I've been so excited to meet the Man of my Dreams that I haven't yet bothered to be afraid. Until tonight. And I realize I am really freaked out. Not like in a "I Doubt Him" way. Like, a "Whoa, This Is Happening Very Quickly And I'm Having A Difficult Time Understanding That My Usual Suck Ass Life Is Suddenly Blessed."

Like that.

Lord Of The Rings references

"Mine's a tale that can't be told, my freedom I hold dear.
How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air...
T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.
But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her, her, her....yeah."

Led Zepplin, Ramble On

~~~~as if you needed any more reason to love Led Zepplin!~~~~

bumper sticker update

I saw one today that said, "I would rather be on the back of the worm."
I can't tell you what that means. But it's a very interesting image.

translation:
warning- crack monkey at wheel! use caution passing!

your bloggerette will figure out this linky thing....sooner or later.....

leos 'scope

You've got that look in your eye, Leo -- that slightly demented, fervently giddy expression I see in you every now and then. Judging from previous experience, I surmise you're about to either launch a brave quest to the frontiers of your understanding or else hurl yourself into a sticky abyss where all the demons adore you. You realize there's a difference, right? One is scary fun and the other is glamorous torment. Please go to your room, take a hundred deep, slow breaths, and meditate about what you should do next to prove how much you love yourself.

Another bizarre thing my son said to me yesterday....he asks me if I believe in love at first sight. I think of viewing Mr. Wonderfuls profile on Lavalife and smile, and say, "Yes, I do." To which my son responds, "Yep, you're my mom then."

Uhhhh....ok.

children are good for amusement

Last night my son is playing the video game Oddworld, and he keeps making one little guy back up into the other one and fart. The one behind him goes, "Whew!" and backs up. My son is in absolute hysterics laughing about it, and looks up at me, slaps his leg and says, "Oooooh! It's a CLASSIC!!!"

imminent true love

Yah, I know all my friends and family think it's nuts. But 40 years from now I will throw a grand party. It will have a decidedly "I Told You So" theme. And I shall run around and sing, "Nah nah nah nah boo boo".

informal announcement

Your little bloggerette is going to run off to the beach and marry Mr. Wonderful. All posts in the next month could be discombobulated with packing. Well, that should be nothing new I suppose. The discombobulation. Aw shit. Rambling already....

Headaches seem to be a serotonin imbalance, not some figment of my imagination. Well, that's good to know, I think...

Pondering my headaches- of which I've had for about a month now? Hard to recall...
I think I'm creating them as an invalid excuse to not have to think about so much shit.
I have too much shit to think about.
I'm really tired of processing. I also think if I hurried up I could be through it and not think about it anymore.
You know, they started right after I quit going to my shrink.
Methinks it's time to go back.

I love and approve of myself. I see myself and what I do with eyes of love. I am safe.

.....positive affirmations for headaches, according to Louise Hay.

gentle epiphany

Mr. Wonderful is out with his friends. Yours Truly is having a mini nervous breakdown over it, having flashbacks to the X and all the fucking traumatic bullshit that entailed. So. Mr. Wonderful has been calling me off and on all night, from 400+ miles away, just to be sweet...to talk...to say hi, love you, that sort of thing. Well, as the night progresses I get more and more freaked out about it, kind of superimposing the X over the current situation. Like, alcohol= evil bastard, right? No? I mean, I can go out and drink with my friends and totally get loopy and still be responsible. Can other people do this? I am sure they can, however my experience with responsible drinkers seems to be mighty limited.

So the last time he calls I break down in tears, despite trying not to. I don't want to be a killjoy I tell him, and I'm embarrassing myself by freaking out. He tells me I have nothing to be ashamed of, that the bastards I've dated have fucked me up, and that all he wants is to fix me.

He is speaking, and I hear him, but it's like I hear him with ears I didn't know I had. I hear him in a place inside I've never heard anyone before. Not in a psychic way. It's like...an inner sanctuary I allow no one to tread, this is holy ground, private, sacred inner space that none are allowed to trespass. I realize in a split second that no one is allowed there because no one can be trusted there. And it's not that he's IN there, but I can HEAR him from there. My own inner sanctuary where I have always hidden when things get rough. And this is what I hear him say:

"Honey, you're like a wounded bird, you're the most beautiful bird I've ever seen and your wings are broken, and all I want is to repair them, to help you, to heal you, because I can see how beautiful you are and my greatest wish is to set you free..."

And if you can imagine me sitting in a small fortress...and the walls suddenly all fall down, with a deafening thunderous noise....and I'm knelt on the ground, crying and defenseless while the dust settles, and there is my Prince Charming, my very own Prince Charming, whose very existence I hadn't dreamed of believing in....but there he is. Standing over me. Finally.

I cannot possibly describe how that makes me feel.

My son got Pop Rocks at the grocery store, so we're eating them. Dude, I forgot how fun they are. I need to keep these around for future attitude adjustments.

attitude adjustment

Now your bloggerette is putting away laundry, with 'fro, blaring Barry White. Sing it Barry baby...

"It feels so good
You lying here next to me
Oh, what a groove
You have no idea how it feels
My hands just won’t keep still
I love you, baby
Oh, I love you, I love you, I love you
I just wanna hold you
Run my fingers through your hair
Ooh
Outta sight
Uh-huh, right there, you like it like that
Closer
Come here, closer, close
Oh, baby
Oh, baby

Give it up, ain’t no use
I can't help myself if I’d wanted to
I’m hung up, no doubt
I’m so in love with you, for me there’s no way out

‘Cause deeper and deeper
In love with you I’m falling
Sweeter and sweeter
Your tender words of love keeps calling

Eager and eager, yeah
To feel your lips upon my face
Please her and please her
Any time or any place..."

Oooooooohhhhhh.......Barry makes everything ok....

By the way, after being out in the rain all day, driving with the window down, my hair is a freaking hysterical mess. I decided to just GO WITH THAT when I got home and tipped my head over and messed it up some more. I have now got a serious 'fro kickin.
I seem to have this screw y'all attitude going. Now my hair clearly agrees.

the moment is rain

In case the preceding blog did not warn you, yours truly is a little cranky today. Reasons various. So I decide to adjust my craptacular attitude by driving through the pouring rain with the window down and my arm out. Yah, people looked at me like I was a jackass...mmmmm...the cop looked at me like he couldn't decide if he should follow me and find the drugs I had most assuredly consumed....but to hell with them all. I was free, I was liberated, I was really really wet. (~grin~) The rain felt sweet while stopped at a light, then I sped up and it started to sting, but the air felt soft by comparison...and I looked around and felt how the trees just sing in the rain, how my lungs feel fabulously humidified, how clean the street was, how the sun was shining through little patches of clouds now and then...and craptacular mood solved.
Nothing like being in the moment.

just one lost soul swimming in a fish bowl

Ok. I have noticed a lot of you people have those little fish bowls on your desks. You know, the beta with the plant roots hanging down, or the goldfish by itself....
Are you all sadistic, or just really clueless about how a fish might feel about it's hideous entrapment? How fun can it be to swim in a circle with barely enough room to actually move your fins, just going around in a crappy circle, no change in your environment, day after day until you die?
Would you like to know? Ok, imagine you're stuck in your cubicle. You can never leave. People will occasionally throw some food in there, but it's never what you want. They don't talk to you though. You can't speak to them. Just day night day night day night in your cubicle. Forever. Until you die.
Ok. So, I'm walking by one such beta bowl today and I swear to God the thing asked me to put it out of it's misery.
I didn't.
But I want you all to know if you are owners of tiny fish bowls, this bloggerette would like to very personally kick you. No. I mean HARD.

In the process of going through some old boxes of stuff, I ran across some prose regarding my rape/sex issues of yore. Which is not to say I don't still have issues, but nothing like I used to.

Here:

"Maybe you've got something I want, " she sang and I thought
Yah....
Why is it I get so distraught, "IT", you know, oh
Why does it bother me so?
Suddenly defensive and silent
shut tight into my shell
feeling like hell
Misunderstood and alone, abused and forsaken
How can I find the words to tell you?
Perhaps I don't need to...share my pains
I don't want to burden you or slip back into it
Slickened abyss, effigy of emotion
Screaming spiral, now I know there's more work to do
More to release
So much more to say
Teeth marks on my tongue

"It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart.
Just trying hard to mend
the pieces of my broken heart.
And I spent so many nights
just feeling sorry for myself.
I used to cry
but now I hold my head up high.
And you see me, somebody new.
I'm not that chained up little person
still in love with you.
And so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to be free
but now I'm saving all my lovin'
for someone who's lovin' me."

Donna Summer, I Will Survive


(insert this bloggerette doing some hard core disco boogie)

I've been wondering what to do about the X and his parents sending me e-mail. I like them well enough despite his dads insane Southern Baptist bullshit, but this morning I get an e-mail from his dad....urging me to sign the petition to ban gay marriage.
I stared in horror at this e-mail for a few minutes while it sunk in that I can now let him go. This is a sign, as I see it. Look, these people are insane, how much more do you need to let go?
Then I had to question whether or not I should respond to it, like, "Dude! Don't EVER send me that shit again! Are you nuts?" But then I realize this will not alter his belief system at all, so I quietly hit Block Sender and let that be the end of that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Everyone's a voyeur, they're watching me
watch them, watch me right now..."
Modest Mouse, Paper Thin Walls

Materialistic knowledge can only provide a type of happiness that is dependent upon physical conditions. It cannot provide happiness that springs from inner development.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

some jobs just suck

You can just tell some jobs suck. As I was sitting in my truck the other day I saw the parking meter chick walk up. I knew it was her before I saw the electronic ticket-spitter-outer in her hand. She just looked wretchedly miserable, like every ounce of joy had been sucked out of her by some evil parasitic creature attached to the back of her neck.
Then she walks up to this parking meter and cocks her head sideways, and taps the thing a few times. She waits, with her hand on one hip and taps the thing some more. I stare at her, realizing she is WAITING for the meter to expire so she can write the ticket. And tapping the meter in the hopes that may somehow speed it up. I think this is bizarrely OCD and take her picture.

She's like the karmic police of parking, but it brings her no joy.
What a suckass job.

I keep hearing these commercials on the radio for the gas station "CitiStop". The commercials give me the creeps, like CitiStop is taking over the world and if you can't find one in ten minutes, you're lost. Today I saw the billboard....

and felt like Big Brother was watching me from the billboard while subconsciously intoning, "you love CitiStop, gotta find a CitiStop, don't you love CitiStop?" and Darth Vader breathing in the background.
Seriously. You guys are scaring me.

love for my crazy neighbors

karma's a bitch

Man, I wanna play with the Hubble, too.

I heard a commercial on the radio last week, where a bunch of teenage boys (one assumes) are coming over to another boys house, and his mom keeps telling them he's not there, but they can come in and wait if they want. They all ask, "Can I grab a Coke?" and the mom answers sure....
The end of the commercial says,
"A house full of coke is a house full of friends!"
and I laughed so hard I damn near spit on my windshield.
Indeed!

is there any wonder why I love you?

I think I'd rather be staring at clouds all day...

love the happy dog

letting go of the past is harder than it seems~ "get over it" are easy words hard to employ~ moving forward feels like an uphill battle (not merely a struggle) slaying my own inner demons littering the path.....
what the hell are all these demons doing here? I sit here amazed at the mess I've created/left for myself to clean. I feel daunted and hopeful, both.

I feel ramble-y and pissed off, happy and secure in my future, unsure of how to get from point A to point B. I'm amazed the point A seemed sufficient a few mere months ago and now point A blows total ass. Ah, time. How funny you are.
Yadda yadda yadda.
What is my point?
This:
After having formally let go of the X and driving this weekend to see Mr. Wonderful, I saw this:


And it struck me that the sun was now on my back and the road was clear before me.
And this feeling is wonderful and somewhat alien.
And I must have more of it.
It's not just time to clean house.
It's time to clean life.

watching the storms roll in.....

savoring sweet freedom

"And when you softly call my name
It's like listenin' to that squeaky chalk sound
And when you look at me that special way
It's hard for me to keep my lunch down
And when you askin' me what I'm thinkin', honey, usually I'm thinkin'
How I'd really like to tie your head completely up in duct tape
So I wouldn't have to listen to you asking me those stupid questions
Over and over again...."

Weird Al, So Sick Of You

happiness

"I've got big balls
I've got big balls
And they're such big balls
Dirty big balls
And he's got big balls
And she's got big balls
But we've got the biggest balls of them all....."

-AC/DC, Big Balls

dude. somebody did that on purpose.

Today is the X's birthday. TO be nice, I was going to have lunch with him. I really didn't want to see him at all. Then last night I have this dream about beating up his Ho, and I'm thinking about it as I'm driving to work. I'm thinking how maybe I would feel better if I finally confronted her. I never have, for fear I may beat her to death. So I'm pondering what I would say to her when I come around the corner and see him and her getting out of her car, and laughing and smiling like they always are together.
~snap!~
My rage is all consuming, and instant. Oooooooooh, so he wants to go out to lunch, apparently right after he's done hanging out with her. Not a fucking chance in the world. I come around the corner and he pulls out behind me, and I try to lose him in traffic but he finally catches up, damn it. I roll down the window and stare straight ahead. He asks whats up, are we going to lunch? I say, no I don't think so (coldly). He asks why I won't look at him and I burst into tears and tell him I'm sick of him hurting me, that I don't want him to hurt me anymore. I tell him I saw him hanging out with her, and what the fuck is his fucking problem? He says it was nothing and gives me some excuse about it. I tell him to save it, his reasons are completely irrelevant. He asks again if we're going to lunch. No, I say, I am not hungry. He asks if I want to come over to go swimming later. I tell him I'll call him at 3.
I decide to come home and write him a letter:

~sigh~

I'm not sure where to start.

After I saw you today, I drove away and thought about what we said to each other, and how I feel. I feel hurt. I always feel hurt. And even though we broke up months ago, I'm still being hurt. It never goes away, it's always a fresh wound.
This has got to stop.
I think I know why it still bothers me (you hanging out with XXXXXX). The girl is a two faced back stabbing self centered ego driven two bit whore, and yet you seem to think she makes an acceptable friend. Well, at least when your other friends aren't around. And I wonder, what is wrong with you? Why the hell would you want a shitty person like her for a friend? She ruined our relationship, then turned around and started fucking someone else, nearly in FRONT of you, and lied to you about it. And still you hang out with her. Yes, I know she isn't a close friend, but she deserves nothing more than a bullet to her skull. Yet when I see the two of you together, you are always smiling and laughing. I find that very interesting. VERY interesting.
You say you only hang out with her because you have no other friends. Perhaps your friends don't call you very often for a reason, and perhaps you need to fix that reason. And making new friends isn't hard- you got XXXXXX easily enough, right? You use the "I have no other friends" excuse, but don't try to make new friends. And when you and I were together, that excuse wasn't valid, yet you spent all your fucking time with her. SO. Logic tells me there is much more there than meets the eye. Perhaps you are lying to yourself about the reasons you hang out with her, but there is still a lie in there somewhere. That much I know.

Ok, so your intentions for hanging out with her bother me. It makes me question your morals, values, and integrity.

What upsets me far more than that is the effect it has on me, and the fact that you are absolutely aware of the effect it has on me, and the fact that this does not deter you in the slightest.
My feelings don't matter to you. They never really have.
No, no, I can hear you disagreeing! Let me clarify: my feelings only matter to you when they inconvenience you in some way. Otherwise, you seem oblivious.
It's ridiculous. All I ever asked was that you stop hanging out with her. All your debatable reasons aside, you are incapable of doing the one thing I asked for from you. You wanted to know if there was any way you could ever make it up to me and I said yes, you could show me you can treat me with respect and honor by refusing to be her friend.
You can't.
Or you won't.
Either way, I can clearly see that my feelings now mean no more to you than they ever did. And therefore, my continuing to care about you is pure folly on my part.
So, after driving away today I realize I can't be your friend. Maybe someday, when you learn how to BE my friend. But right now you aren't. I think I'm doing us both a favor by drawing this line. I am not going to LET you hurt me anymore, and you needn't feel responsible for my feelings (though I'm not sure you do now anyway).
Regardless of it all, I love you. I always will.

I guess I'll see you around.

After lunch, I'm going to drive back to his house to deliver it in person. Yah, on his birthday. I'm not doing it to be cruel to him. I'm doing it to be good to me.
It's about fucking time.

wtf

More dreams about The Hussy-
this one I am at home with the X (past tense)(hey, that puts a whole meaning on past tense, doesn't it? nyuck nyuck). At any rate, I don't know what is going on but she is at our house and I make her leave. A little while later she shows back up, all dressed up and smiling at my door. I open the door and see her jackass mug smiling at me and say, "Bitch, you've got some serious balls" and proceed to beat the living crap out of her. Last I remember I had thrown her off a two story flight of stairs and can hear the satisfying thud and crunch as she hit the ground. Then I hear her crying, and it makes me feel bad. I go to check on her, but my motivations aren't good, seeing as how I'm thinking if she was dead she wouldn't be crying....

First, let me state I do think she is a waste of vital organs.
Second, I don't think she has any balls. I think she really is just that stupid.
Third, I don't know why I'm still dreaming about this shit and I find it disturbing to do so.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's odd, lately, when I talk to the X. I used to be concerned with his feelings and I'm getting to the point now where I just don't care. Like, before I wouldn't say things that would hurt his feelings, even if they were true. Now his feelings aren't as important. Sure, one could say it is a normal response given all that's happened. That's not what I'm talking about though. What blows me away is the amazing LACK of empathy I now possess for him. I can muster it up quickly if needed, but it's not just a given like it used to be.
Hmm.

I think it's a good thing.

on superstition:

"Depend on the rabbit's foot if you will, but remember: it didn't work for the rabbit."

-R.E. Shay

thanks to http://parody.organique.com/

I feel like hell. Like total shit munching pissed off hell.
What is my problem?

my name is mud

decompressing....

I just walked in the door and loudly sang this song:

(to the tune of Joy To The World)

"Work, work, work, can suck my butt!
And work can suck my butt!
And work, work, work,
can suck, suck, suck,
And work, work, work, work,work
can suck,suck,suck my butt
and work, and work can suck my butt!!!"

"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity."
- Albert Einstein

subconcious venting

This morning I dreamed I was at some big party, with the X and all our our/his friends. Everyone was talking about The Hussy, and how she was coming, and how they couldn't wait, and how I should just get over it. I started packing. As I'm stuffing everything I own into bags, I'm yelling at them, telling them how obvious it was that they cared nothing about me, that she's a stupid fucking moron and I can't believe they would pick her company over mine, but FINE if that's' the way it is... And I grabbed all my bags and loudly announce,
"Fuck y'all. Fuck all y'all!" and storm out the door.

(side note: As I'm stalking away, it must be noted I had on some wicked awesome skirt and superfly high heels. Apparently my vanity is taking care of these things while I'm asleep. If I'm going to make a grand exit, at least I looked damn good while doing it.)

The X follows me and is, of course, drunk. He's smiling and laughing like I'm being soooo silly, and he thinks it's cute. Like, "Awww, come on, I just fucked a skank, don't be so touchy..." He keeps trying to kiss me and I SHOVE him away, while bawling and telling him I really loved this town, and now I'll have to leave, thanks very much you worthless sack of shit.

I wake. The first thing that registers is that someone is in bed with me, and I nearly freak out, then have a moment where I really hope it is Mr. Wonderful and we're together, then realize it is actually my son (I know, I know, confuse a 7 year old with Mr. Wonderfuls 6 foot tall hunkliness? A girl can dream...)
At any rate, I snap awake and ask him how long he's been there. I usually wake at the slightest sound he makes, and so this startles me. Also I ask him if I pushed him in my sleep, because I'm thinking if he just crawled into bed while I was shoving X away in the dream....I likely pushed him when he tried to cuddle up. He says yes, I did push him. I apologize and tell him about my dream, and cry while I'm doing it. He cuddles up (so sweet he is) and tells me I should dream about The Simpsons instead.
(laughing)
Indeed.

Dude. You so totally rule.

bumper sticker update:

Error 661

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The server refuses to accept the request without a defined content length on the precondition given in one or more of the request header fields evaluated to false when it was tested on the server and refusing to process a request because the request entity is larger than the server is willing or able to process or refusing to service the request because the request URI is longer than the server is willing to interpret, as well as refusing to service the request because the entity of the request is in a format not supported by the requested resource for the requested method, causing the server to encounter an unexpected condition that prevented it from fulfilling the request since the server does not support the functionality required to fulfill the request while acting as a gateway or proxy receiving an invalid response from the upstream server it accessed in attempting to fulfill the request which temporarily overloaded and timed out the server waiting for a gateway that the server does not support, or refuses to support, the HTTP protocol version that was used in the request message.

Grrrrr....I am cranky indeed. Snarly, even. Disgruntled. Pissy. Irritated. Frustrated. Days like this I think I would do the world a favor and keep myself indoors.
It's nothing, really. I have job angst. I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm feeling claustrophobic and smothered by it.
MUST BREATHE!
BREATHE!
And as always, when I reach this point, I know something has got to give.
Ahh, growing pains.

I am so short tempered when I'm tired. You'd think I stayed up till 4 am thinking about shit. Oh wait, I did.

never ceases to amuse me

http://members.aon.at/pcnet/lachen/stfu.htm

I don't know why the latter part of my blog is all in italics but it's annoying the shit outta me.
Just know this is not by choice.

I love you

"The bells are pealing
And they're revealing
The simple key to happiness
It isn't evil
It isn't good
It's only what the people miss

The bells explain what they've been lacking all along
They were disorganized and that was what was wrong
(No) And now they know
(No) The way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound...."

They Might Be Giants, The Bells Are Ringing

Kutadanta accused the Buddha: "I am told that you teach the law of life and the way, yet you tear down religion. Your followers despise rituals and abandon sacrifices. But reverence for the gods can only be shown through sacrifices. The very nature of religion is that of worship and sacrifice."

The Buddha replied: "Greater than the massacring of bullocks is the sacrifice of self. He who offers up his evil desires will see the uselessness of slaughtering animals at the altar. Blood has no power to cleanse, but the giving up of harmful actions will make the heart whole. Better than worshiping gods is following the ways of goodness."

-Digha Nikaya
From "Buddha Speaks," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2000.

Mr. Wonderful is visiting friends. They're out, having fun, hanging out. He called a little while ago.
I could fucking kick myself. Seriously.
Instead of being happy for him, I am tearful. Why? I don't want to be needy. WTF is my problem? I wonder if maybe I am totally spoiled by getting to talk to him for hours every night.
I was telling him about a dream I had and how it made me sad and he laughed.
He laughed.

(insert image of me reconstructing walls at lightning speed)

I don't think he heard me, or if he did perhaps he misunderstood what I was saying. He's not the type to laugh at my sorrow. It was really loud in the club/bar/wherever they were and....
It occurs to me I've been sitting here waiting to see if he would call. And while I know in my heart of hearts everything is ok and wonderful, I think maybe it's just giving me flashbacks to the X, and all the nights of sitting up waiting....
I don't want to project this shit onto Mr. Wonderful. I really didn't want to get involved with anyone till I had this shit worked out in my head.
I had just gotten the hang of being alone. But would I rather be? Would I sacrifice love for the ease of solitude?
No.
Yet at the same time I know he will call later. He said he would. Unlike X, he actually will. And so I will wait. But I really want to take my phone, walk out on the deck, and fucking chuck it as far into the trees as I possibly can. I don't want to sit here and wait, I don't want to sit here and think about it, I don't want to sit here......although I think maybe calling X and reaming him the fuck out in the middle of the night would be gratifying... but would it? (rolling eyes) Not really. What would I yell at him? "Damn you for treating me like shit and me letting you get away with it because I need you to cocreate this drama for me for my own masochistic personal growth?"
~scowling~
It occurs to me that I am not a forgiving person. I am an understanding person. I don't forgive people for the ways they hurt me, I merely understand why they do it.

(long pause)

I've been so emotional lately. I don't know why. Perhaps a multitude of reasons. I feel like I'm having a trauma yard sale, and hauling shit outta my subconscious and heaping it in the yard where I can see it by the light of day (and so can everyone else). All the shit with the X has been slowly venting out, seeping out... I wonder how long that is going to take. Then all the shit I've been discussing with my shrink, then the talk my mom and I had about my dad trying to commit suicide while I was there...
I think about that one a lot. The man has so lost his ability to feel joy in life he wants to die. This is my masculine role model. And having a child, it fucking kills me. I can't imagine how I could possibly think of trying to kill myself while my son was here alone with me, knowing he could come in and find my dead body and be alone with my corpse not knowing what to do
(bawling)
What the fuck is THAT? What the fuck could make a person want to do that??? And it makes me feel so fucking abandoned, so...orphaned in some way, like my dad cared so little about me...part of me wants to smack him, part of me just feels pity...
and part of me wants to just find a dark mountaintop and stand on top of it and scream at the fucking sky until I can purge this bleeding darkness out of my heart.

(sitting here listening to "Birthday" by the Sugarcubes over and over again, with some demented feeling of coming to terms with the unrealistic halcyon visions of childhood I've had)

Oh, I am the phoenix. I always rise from the flames. Times like this make me nervously wonder how much more fire there is to go through, though.

I feel this is a lot of why I am so emotional about Mr. Wonderful. Somehow I trust him in a way I never have trusted a man before. And while this is the most wonderful feeling I have ever had, it is at the same time the most painful. I am defenseless. I have never been this way before. I am hopeful and terrified.

(deep breath)

He manages to step into a role no man has ever done, not in my life. And now knowing what I know about my dad, I finally understand WHY. Let a man take care of me? Protect me? Surely you jest. Not even possible. I won't let them.
But now?

(pause)

"And being alone is the, is the best way to be,
when I'm by myself it's the best way to be,
when I'm all alone it's the best way to be,
when I'm by myself nobody else can say goodbye...

everything is temporary anyway...."

Edie Brickell, Circle of Friends


So....tonight I feel like a needy bitch. I guess I am. And maybe, just maybe, that's ok.

letting go

On New Years Eve, my friends had brought the X and I a bottle of champagne. We didn't drink it that night, nor any night thereafter before we broke up. We when we were packing, I took it with me, but he and I agreed we would still drink it together on some nice occasion.
Well, I came to the conclusion that I don't need to ponder what that occasion may be, nor look for it anymore. I invited my friend Beth over today and we sat on by the pool and drank that bottle of champagne.
Letting go feels pretty good.




"The black throated wind whispering sin,
And it speaks of a life that passes like dew
It forced me to see
That you've done better by me
Better by me than I've done by you..."

Grateful Dead, Black Throated Wind

I wonder how trusting I am of people. Then I realize I look both ways before crossing a one way street, and I have my answer.

Redundant award of the day:

proof that Kitty loves us:

Today Kitty brought us a present. Although I found it a revolting present, I thanked her profusely and gave her lots of love for providing us with sustenance (although we won't eat it).
Kitty love.

Winner in the "Things That Are Blatantly Apparent" category:

runner up in the "Things That Are Blatantly Apparent" category:

my kind of crazy....

Theres a house nearby that almost always has a chalkboard in the front yard, with some phrase or another written on it. This one says, "she'll sleep on a Brazilian pillow soon." I don't have the faintest idea WHO they're referring to, but it usually says things about "She" or "Her".
I love these eccentric people and I can't wait to have my own house so that I may emulate them. Blogging is fun, but having a chalkboard in the front yard would be great too. It's not that I'm such an opinionated bitch. I just like to shake things up a little. It's good for you.

http://www.usatoday.com/life/graphics/raycharles/flash.htm

Aw drat. I can't get it to work right. Just copy it and go give props to The Man.
Ray, we'll miss you baby.

NC dumb ass fee

I realize this morning that my insurance has expired, due to the fact that I haven't given them any money. They are being so unreasonable. (ahem) Well, anyway I run in to go pay it with great haste and find out I have to pay the great state of North Carolina a $50 fine for having a lapse in insurance, or as I like to see it, a $50 dumb ass fee for being forgetful.
Being in love can be dangerous and expensive. Watch out people. And if you can't, well, at least watch out for me. I'll be the dumbass driving next to you with the dopey grin and no insurance.

humans are vain little monkeys

So I see this woman today who has had her hair done. She's dyed most of the gray out and had different colored layers put in and highlights, the whole bit, to make it look more natural, I suppose. Well, since chicks dig it when you notice their hair, I say to her, "Hey, nice 'do!" And she looks at me and smiles sincerely and says, "You know, you're the third person to say that to me! I haven't had anything done...I guess it just looks different today." I am rolling inwardly, knowing she's trying to pull off the act that her hair normally looks like that, and yet I totally understand her vanity and need for it, so I say, "Wow, yah, I guess it just looks extra spiffy today! Huh!" like I'm a blithering bloody idiot who can't see that she's obviously dyed her hair. She smiles. I smile. Although my smile is aimed at the fact that we humans are funny little vain monkeys, AND that I totally support her decision to live in happy vain monkey denial.

kitty is back!

There's this cat that comes to visit. I don't know whose cat it is but she seems to have adopted us. I LOVE this kitty. I worship the ground her little furry feet pad across.
So last weekend we went to the beach and I haven't seen Kitty since. We were worried perhaps something happened to her.
Anyway, she shows back up this morning and I'm freaking estatic.
KITTY!

Hey you! You, on the scaffolding! You are making my pretty little town way cooler by the second! I worship you and your mighty skills! YOU RULE!

"Who cares to define what chemistry this is?
Who cares with your lips on mine, how ignorant bliss is?
So long as you kiss me and the world around us shatters,
How little it matters how little we know...."

Frank Sinatra, (How Little It Matters) How Little We Know

I've been using the word awesome an awful lot lately. I've been thinking I may need to get thee to a thesaurus to expand on some adjectives and quit overusing that one so much. But first I decide to look up awesome, or more specifically, awe:

1)A mixed emotion of reverence, respect, dread, and wonder inspired by authority, genius, great beauty, sublimity, or might.

2)An overwhelming feeling of wonder or admiration.

And after giving this some consideration, I have come to the conclusion there is no other word that can possibly fill it's place.

It's just awesome.

reading about Reagan....

Eight servicement carried the casket to a hearse and a 45-minute motorcade brought it to Point Mugu, where hundreds of civilians and sailors in white waited under clearing blue skies to watch the jet depart for Andrews Air Force Base near Washington.

Along the way, the motorcade passed a row of firefighters saluting beneath an American flag suspended from ladders, and a well-wisher holding a sign that read "This is Reagan Country."

Crowds watched from overpasses as the procession headed along U.S. 101. Traffic on the opposite side of the freeway came to a halt and some drivers got out and stood with hands over their hearts. A big-rig driver sounded his horn as the hearse passed. "Thanks," said a sign posted on the route.

Harvesters in farm fields around the base climbed off tractors, removed hats from their heads and put them over their hearts. A little boy stood at attention and saluted from the tailgate of a pickup truck by an onion field. "Rest Well, President Reagan," said a sign.



I cut this out and copied it as an example of the stuff that makes me cry. When I read things like this it makes me so proud to be human.
I don't care how I feel about Reagan. This is about peoples reactions to his passing. It's just beautiful.

why I love him:

"You make me feel like the first monkey ever to wield a flaming stick. Geez, what a happy monkey..."

Seriously, I know the rest of you may find that a bizarre thing to say, but this guy SO TOTALLY GETS ME. I read that and thought, "I know exactly what you mean."
>insert wild crazy happy monkey sounds here<
Like I just discovered banana paradise. And chocolate. And now we can melt chocolate over the bananas using the flaming stick you're wielding.
Life is awesome.

Leo's horoscope according to the Almighty Rob Bresney:

"I don't know if you're the type of person who enjoys trance-dancing half-undressed till 4 a.m. at bacchanalian parties, then prowling the early morning streets barking at the moon and singing songs from Broadway musicals with loony companions until you end up playing strip poker outside an all-night diner as the sun comes up. But if you are that type of person, this will be a perfect week to indulge your inclinations. If you're not, please find an equivalent adventure that you're comfortable with. 'Tis the season to be rowdy."



Does this guy know me or what? Erica you need to get your ass back in town. I told you it was time for debauchery! Now I have proof. Like I needed it.
MWAA HAA HAA HAA

That's what I'm talking about:

I saw a bumper sticker yesterday (missed the photo op, gotta quit driving so fast) referring to the "We Still Pray" bumper sticker movement (see archived blogs).
This bumper sticker said, "We Still Pray" and under that, "In Private".

Thanks to the guy who owns that bumper sticker. Someone GETS it. I salute you.

bumper sticker update:

Awwww, is someone cranky?

vile mood part II, roots discovered, mood relinquished

Damn it, I blogged all this last night but it disappeared into the ethers. At any rate....

I did some thinking last night about the X and his step mom and what she said...and I realize that I was really angry and hurt that she would suggest he and I should get back together. Does she want to torture me? Is she a sadist? Does she not understand that he was horrible to me and Mr. Wonderful is the best thing thats ever happened to me? What? Oh. No, I guess she doesn't know that. And therefore her comments to me are not meant to be cruel and therefore I should yank my head out of my ass and fuggedaboudit.
Why doesn't she know these things? Because I don't tell her. Why don't I tell her? Well, that's where it gets complicated. I tell myself it's because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by insulting X to his family, or insulting X to his face, by telling his moody pouty ass that we're never going to be together....I feel guilty saying these things. But as I am prone to do, I am misplacing the guilt. This whole thing never would have happened by MY doing. He did this, not me. I don't need to wear his guilt. Nor do I need to sugar coat it for him or his family. I love them, and I love myself. So I am actually doing a disservice to us all by being a pansy little wuss who is afraid to tell them I am madly in love with someone else and they all just need to deal with that. I know they want me as a daughter in law. But it's not going to happen. So now I will ponder how to inform them of this reality without being cruel (at least in my eyes).
More to come, I am sure.

you know it's love when....

you're doing dishes and totally rocking out to the lite rock music station.

"Since your mind is not physical,
No one else can destroy it.
But because of its attachments to the body,
It is harmed by physical suffering."

-Bodhicharyavatara


There's a whole new take on stress I hadn't really thought about. Also makes me reconsider migraines in a new light.

Vile mood

Today work brings me to the place my X's dad (and now step mom) works. I go up to x's step mom, and ask to see the wedding pictures. It's sweet, I ooh and ahhh over them, the ladies nearby all act like old hens and we chat about the whole affair, get teary eyed at the pictures, it's all very cute. One of the women is a lady I used to talk to a lot, who knows I used to date the grooms son. She sees X in the pictures and says, "Ooh, so that's your boyfriend!" all happily. I feel like someone has just filled with stomach with radioactive sludge. I decide to not comment and just smile instead, realizing that to correct her will involve what I believe would be a major faux pas- talking about what a whore he is and why we broke up while looking at wedding pictures with a very smiley glowing newlywed nearby- and that I would be referring to her recently acquired stepson. (cringe) So I grin and bear it, while she and another lady talk about how cute we are together, blah blah blah. They finally go away, and X's step mom and I talk for a little while about the wedding, and then SHE starts in about how cute he and I look together and how it's obvious to see us together that we really love each other. "Yes," I tell her, "sometimes love just isn't enough." Silence. She asks how things are going between us, and I tell her the truth. She doesn't really care for it, but politely smiles anyway. She tells me she is really hopeful that X will manage to get it together in time for things to work out before I get too attached to Mr. Wonderful. I realize there is nothing I can say that would be in good taste. I decide to just wait until she sees an engagement ring and let her figure it out for herself. I'm sick of fucking explaining it, I'm sick of fucking talk about it, he was an inappreciative drunk who fucked some whore he works with and that's that.
AN hour later I realize I am in one wickedly foul fucking mood.
I realize it is likely the unreasonable expectations of his family pissing me the fuck off but regardless I'm going to stick my ass into a hot bath and not come out until I feel better.
I realized on the way home I really wanted to repeatedly ram into the car ahead of me in traffic. The girl behind me kept tailgating me because she was too busy yakking on her cell phone to pay attention. I kept slamming on the brakes for fun, just to watch her eyes get big and her head jerk forward each time she got too close.
This will not do.
This is not who I am, nor do I need to give any more energy to a fucked up situation that has sucked way too much of my vital forces as it is. Far more than it ever deserved.
Bath.
(insert me singing, "I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair (and his family too)")

"I'm so tired, of playing
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other girls to play
For I've been a temptress too long

Just. .

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be a woman
I just wanna be a woman

From this time, unchained
We're all looking at a different picture
Thru this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over, and give us some room

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be a woman
I just wanna be a woman

So don't you stop being a man
Just take a little look from our side when you can
Sow a little tenderness
No matter if you cry

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be be a woman
Its all I wanna be is all woman

For this is the beginning of forever and ever

Its time to move over... ..."

Portishead, Glory Box

The wanderer Bhaggava accused the Buddha of saying that the universe was caused merely by chance. The Buddha replied:

"I have heard others of your sect, Bhaggava, say that when I awoke and found the truth, which was beautiful, I remained in that bliss and then regarded the universe as ugly and meaningless in comparison.

"But I never taught that, Bhaggava. This is what I do say: 'Whenever one awakes and finds the beautiful, then one knows indeed what beauty is.'"

-Majjhima Nikaya

mmmmmm......ocean-y

things that shouldn't need a sign but apparently do:

Ok, this one I don't even know where to begin or end. Suffice to say it's just freaking hilarious.
Well, maybe not to the person with the sign...

blogging from the beach

Your little bloggerette took off to the beach to be with Mr. Wonderful. Now I am stuck with the realization I don't really want to go back.
Huh.
This realization is forcing me to ponder the state of my life and question things. I am a very independent bitch and am frankly shocked I would feel this way. The warning alarms go off and I wonder if I am falling into old codependent patterns (I don't believe this is the case), or if I am so caught up in smooshy shooshy goo goo land that my head has somehow slipped up my butt, or maybe I am so totally in love with Mr. Fell From Heaven that anything else seems bland by comparison. No, no, I shant be dismissing my duties at all, nor running off to the beach to live happily after ever.
But I want to.
I want to.
I don't wanna leave.

"Somehow I find myself far out of line
from the ones I had drawn
Wasn't the best of paths, you could attest to that,
but I'm keeping on.
Would our paths cross if every great loss
had turned out our gain?
Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us
was paid in vain?

There was no pot of gold, hardly a rainbow
lighting my way
But I will be true to the red, black and blues
that colored those days.

I owe my soul to each fork in the road,
each misleading sign.
'Cause even in solitude, no bitter attitude
can dissolve my sweetest find

Thanksgiving for every wrong move that made it right"

Poi Dog Pondering, Thanksgiving

zen moments in traffic

Although you can barely see it, I wanted to share this moment with you. I was driving in the rain when I stopped at a stoplight. I looked ahead to see this schoolbus, with one childs hand reaching out the window, very still, feeling the rain.

Speaking of death and marriage (what? we weren't?)....
I've been driving past this place for years, and always thought it would be a beautiful setting for a wedding. Then I realized it was a cemetery.

I've been sitting here rereading some old blogs, and one about the X turned Heroin Addict struck me. I was relating how I knew he would self destruct and I couldn't be with him anymore due to the pain of the FEAR of him self destructing. I got to thinking about how many relationships have had this theme, and the most recent....and then to my dad who was, unbeknownst to me, suicidal. Then I put two and two together and HOLY SHIT.
The things our tender young minds absorb is unreal. And the way our unconscious chooses to work them out is phenomenal.

Bumper sticker in the "I just don't get it" category

The United States Of Mickey Mouse? Mickey Mouse loves the U.S.? Disneyland? What the hell is that? Someone explain this logic to me, please.

bumper sticker update

X retrospect

how can I possibly explain the million layers I have inside~ to make you see me, to see me for who I am~ you never had the vision, I never realized you were blind~ I didn't really see you after staring into the sun~ how could I have known anything at all before hidsight came to kick my ass?~ we danced for years without touching, kissed for years without tasting~ I never knew what I was missing but I knew there was a loss~ and now you're floating free in space while I watch you from the ground~ the earth feels warm beneath my feet, a sweetness never tasted until now~ I'm so aware of the connection yet aware of the severance, how can that be?~ the freedom from your inner agony comes lightly yet bleeds in me~ it bleeds in me~ it bleeds in me~ it bleeds in me

Can it be? Do you really understand me? Would you like to sit here with me and count the stars inside our minds?

My mom and grandma came to visit this weekend. It was cool. And on Saturday my mom and I got in a discussion about all the things I've been discussing with my shrink.
When I got the story about me being a kid and walking in on my dad laying in bed and he tells me he's going to die, she totally shocks me by saying, "I think I know what day that was." I stare at her, wondering how the hell could she possibly know that, since she was at work. She said she had found out my dad was still drinking, despite strict orders from his doctor to quit. His doctor had prescribed Valium to help, but since my dad was in fact still drinking my mom took the Valium and hid it. "Why I didn't just throw it away I don't know," she said. My dad, on the other hand, swears to this day he wasn't drinking at all then, but my mom said she was finding bottles of liquor stashed in weird places all over the house all of a sudden....and let's face it, on massive amounts of Valium what the hell would he remember anyway? I've taken the stuff (had quite an appetite for it at 16- that was an addiction that sucked to break!) and I know how it makes you feel. So anyway, my mom said one day my dad called her at work and told her she better come home right away, because he found the Valium and was taking a ton of it and wouldn't be alive by the time she got home if she didn't hurry. She tried to stall him. Well, he lived, and she wanted to kill him when he did. Who could blame her?
She tells me all this and I stare at her, slack jawed. All I can say is, "I had no idea!" She tells me after they divorced he called her one time and asked if he could borrow $500 to go down to the Kentucky Derby. She said she didn't have it, so sorry, so he didn't go. He told her later he was glad she didn't, because he planned on going down there and killing himself. All I can do is stare at my mom, and I blurt out, "My dad is a whiny bitch!!! Oh my God!" I mean, I always thought he was the stoic one! And as this fact sinks in the lightbulbs start going off in my head. I look at my mom and say, "All these years! Do you even know how many carbon copies of dad I have dated?!" I've had so many depressed suicidal substance abusing boyfriends....and all this time I was dating the image of my own dad that I somehow absorbed as a small child, without ever knowing it.

I am completely blown away.

Not just by the realization that I now I know why I've always had this masochistic attraction to guys like that, but also by the fact that my dad tried to kill himself was he was home alone with me! What a total fucking asshole! What a complete pussy!
I wondered why my mom didn't tell me all these years. But now I think I see why. My image of my own dad has just crumbled. Now I'm left standing here feeling the belated pain of being abandoned 25 years ago. My mom didn't tell me to try to save my dads reputation in my eyes. I don't know, it seems somehow I always knew, even if I wasn't consciously aware of it. But what pains me the most is I always wanted to believe my dad could do no wrong, that all the stories he told me about my mom were true, that she did him wrong and he was innocent. I always wanted to believe my dad was a pillar of strength. Now I'm left with the realization that that was always just a dream, and my dad will never be, nor has ever been the man I wished he could be.

I'm heartbroken.

I've always envied people who had great fathers (Mr. Wonderful are you listening?). And I'm now aware of why I suddenly feel like a scared little kid the last few days. And a strong powerful woman at the same time. I'm terrified at being alone in the big bad world, and yet...I'm bigger and stronger than my own dad could ever be.
That's some heavy shit.

There are a lot of stinky hippies and anarchists.
I would like to state what I think is obvious, but may not be to The Stinky People:

Hygiene is not to be confused with politics. If you would like to make a statement about society and it's values, use words. It works better than stench.

I saw a jalopy of a car while driving today, and written across the back windshield was the words, "This vehicle not intended for dating plumage."
This blog would like to apologize for not having my camera with me.
I'm terribly sorry.

"I am extraordinary, if you'd ever get to know me...I am extraordinary, I'm just your ordinary average everyday sane psycho super goddess..."

Liz Phair, "Extraordinary"

"We are not compelled to meditate by some outside agent, by other people, or by God. Rather, just as we are responsible for our own suffering, so are we solely responsible for our own cure. We have created the situation in which we find ourselves, and it is up to us to create the circumstances for our release."

-Lama Thubten Yeshe, "Wisdom Energy"

This morning I am pondering how to conquer my fear of love (or, more accurately, my fear of heartbreak) and this arrived in my inbox.
Last night I was talking to Mr. Wonderful after the wedding and all and I was emotionally distraught and just generally paranoid. He asked if there was anything he could do that would help me trust him. I told him I couldn't think of anything...because the problem exists in my head, and it is a battle I shall have to wage myself.
"...It is up to us to create the circumstances for our release."
Indeed.
Now it seems I need to put a face on this faceless dark danger in my own mind.
Then, vanquish it.
Living in fear is simply not an option. Not anymore. Nor was it ever- but the time has come to slaughter this beast.
Stay tuned.