The K Chronicles

New Beginnings

2007-12-29T00:38:00.000-08:00

The K Chronicles: New Beginnings

(The idea for the new format was blatantly borrowed from Jiaying…)

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the apartment building were the shouts of my cursing and screaming as I broke one kitchen appliance after another. Not only did my sink lose water pressure, but I dropped a baking sheet onto the heating coil of my oven and chipped it. At that point there was only one gift I was hoping for Santa to bring me… a husky, bare-chested angel in the form of a man. (Did I mention that I had watched It’s a Wonderful Life four times that week?)

Just before midnight I sat down to watch another not-so-cheery holiday flick- Christmas Eve with George Raft. I believe I’m probably the only person under the age of 75 that’s watched it and actually enjoyed it.

All my ill thoughts quickly flew out the window when I saw Justice hiding under the Christmas Tree- her favorite place to lie in wait for my bare feet to enter her line of sight. Since it was after midnight I told her that Santa had already come and put gifts in her stocking so we could open them up. I’m pretty sure she liked them as she dug immediately into the pile to play.

As for me, it was quite a blue Christmas… a warm blue blanket with dolphins… a blue silky scarf with dolphins… a blue sweater to match my eyes, the color of dolphins… and from my mom the blue necklace I’d been hoping for ever since my birthday.

Just in case I didn’t feel spoiled enough, there were a few other gifts to open. Cute little ornaments for Justice and me… a pink watch with dolphins on it (also good for my ego as I have to take out quite a few links for it to fit!)… and a Canon Power Shot A720! Anyone that knows me is aware of my huge, bulky camera that I carry around. Now, I have a travel sized one so I can get all those candid shots of my friends without them realizing it until after!

At this point I should mention that I made a big purchase for myself last week. I drove up to Raleigh and, with the advice of a car-savvy friend, bought a 2007 Mustang Sports Coup- V6, 4.0 liter engine, 210 horsepower. (See? I’m not just a silly girl driving a hot Mustang!) After many days of indecision I’ve finally settled on a name- Mustang Charlie! The ride home from Raleigh was nerve-racking: Charlie made the drive in just under 3 hours instead of the normal 3½.

Happy Birthday to ME!

2007-09-10T13:31:00.000-07:00

10 September 1979

Your date of conception was on or about 18 December 1978 which was a Monday.

You were born on a Monday under the astrological sign Virgo.

Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 1/28/1979 and ending 2/15/1980.You were born in the Chinese Year of the Goat.

Your Native American Zodiac sign is Bear; your plant is Violets.

You were born in the Egyptian month of Hathys, the third month of the season of Poret (Emergence - Fertile soil).

As of 9/10/2007 4:03:57 PM EDT
You are 28 years old.
You are 336 months old.
You are 1,461 weeks old.
You are 10,227 days old.
You are 245,464 hours old.
You are 14,727,843 minutes old.
You are 883,670,637 seconds old.
Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 4.0027397260274 years old. (You're still chasing cats!)

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Ryan Phillippe
Charles Kuralt
Randy Johnson
Roger Maris
Arnold Palmer

Top songs of 1979
My Sharona The Knack
Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? Rod Stewart
Hot Stuff Donna Summer
Bad Girls Donna Summer
Escape Rupert Holmes
I Will Survive Gloria Gaynor
Ring My Bell Anita Ward
Too Much Heaven BeeGees

There are 366 days till your next birthday on which your cake will have 29 candles. Those 29 candles produce 29 BTUs,or 7,308 calories of heat (that's only 7.3080 food Calories!) . You can boil 3.31 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1979 there were approximately 3.1 million births in the US. In 1979 the US population was approximately 203,302,031 people, 57.4 persons per square mile. In the US a new person is born approximately every 8 seconds. In the US one person dies approximately every 12 seconds.

Your birthstone is Sapphire The Mystical properties of Sapphire:
Though not meant to replace traditional medical treatment, Sapphire is used for clear thinking.
Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. Agate, Moonstone, Lapis Lazuli

Your birth tree is:
Weeping Willow, the Melancholy
Beautiful but full of melancholy, attractive, very empathic, loves anything beautiful and tasteful, loves to travel, dreamer, restless, capricious, honest, can be influenced but is not easy to live with, demanding, good intuition, suffers in love but finds sometimes an anchoring partner.

The moon's phase on the day you wereborn was waning gibbous.

When did... my attitude start to suck?

2007-07-30T14:50:00.001-07:00

Maybe it’s just me- I’ve been told I’m an inflexible hardass that refuses to bend to something I believe is inappropriate. Or, maybe I’m hanging around the wrong people, shopping at the wrong places!

Still, I’d like to know when did…

…it become common to forget the name of someone you’re in a conversation with or thinking of asking out? (And yet the Starbucks Baristas use it three times within five minutes!)

…cops stop identifying themselves to young women while blinding them with a flashlight?

…it become couth to talk to a woman about your “peter”?

…those people that sell hand lotion in the mall kiosks begin to accost people with their product and grumble at them as they walk away?

…a $50 donation and pan of ziti to a local organization [in need of aid] not merit a thank you note?

…pseudo-non-conformists get the right to make fun of me because I didn’t jump on the Yankees bandwagon?

…husbands stop offering to carry the flat of bottled water for their wives?

…Bed, Bath, & Beyond allow their male employees to ask out female customers?

…relatives start to backstab you when you least expect it and crush every hope you had to make it through life in one piece?

... horny 15 year olds get to hang out in your favorite bar after hours simply becuase he can play a wicked violin?

…bill collectors decide to call at 9, 10, & 11pm asking for Christopher Walters, even though I’m obviously not him, as I’ve told them the 10th time this month?!

…Wal-Mart cashiers get the privilege to tell me my attitude sucks because I want to return a coffeemaker that doesn’t work?

Charleston's 9

2007-06-24T15:12:00.000-07:00

"I'm going to find a way to honor those guys every single day. I will find a way. You need to find a way. Even if it means changing my car to No. 9, I don't care, I will find a way," Chief Rusty Thomas.

For nearly a week now I’ve been trying to think of something to write about Charleston’s 9 heroes. It’s just been too overwhelming and too heartbreaking. Even to think about trying to form the words causes tears to form in my eyes and a huge lump to settle into my throat.

I have re-learned an important, valuable lesson- there is nothing in this world more comforting, gratifying, or refreshing than the brotherhood of firemen. For three days my new city was permeated with firefighters from all over the country. FDNY sent their Emerald Society Pipes and Drums Corp. My local haunt, Tommy Condon’s Irish Pub, was completely overtaken all three nights by no less than 300-500 of our country’s heroes- talk about a fire hazard! I met men, every bit a hero as my dad, from Dallas, Los Angeles, Grand Rapids, Seattle, Orlando, and, of course, New York.

I was reminded of how much I appreciated and loved growing up the daughter and niece of firemen. I’ve never felt safer, more at home than I did this weekend among my large, extended family. In the end, I could never explain what it is that I feel in my heart. I think it was best said by Captain Jamie Green when he said, “The whole way back from the scene, I thought, ‘I couldn’t do it anymore… But after seeing this [the service], I couldn’t do anything else.” I too, couldn’t imagine being anything else than the being apart of a family of heroes.

It's All About ME!

2007-03-03T13:28:00.000-08:00

I remember events in my life by the relationships (or non-relationships) I had at any given time. My sister might say to me, “Hey, remember that time at the rest area where you changed in the car and I told that mean looking group of motorcycle guys?” Instead of thinking (to myself) “Oh, yeah! That was on our first neo-family trip to Lake George!” I think “Oh! That was during the downslide of the brutal, messy courtship that was *Name withheld b/c I really don't care anymore*.”

The one thing I’ve learned throughout my collection of various involvements with men is how to be alone with myself. Not to endure it, suffer through it or wait it out until someone hacked through the briar patch in front of my castle and rescued me, but to learn to get along with myself and love parts of being alone, like:

Going to the movies alone: I’m not such a romantic but I still want to be taken over by a movie. I want to weep, yearn, burn with longing. In the dark. By myself so only I know.

Sunday afternoon at Barnes & Noble: I need to get lost in the aisles and not worry if a friend is impatiently waiting. I have to be able to buy hardback books without feeling guilty and the latest Scrapbooking Monthly magazine without justifying my obsession of all things crafty.

Microwavable meals on the couch: I know I’m supposed to value myself enough to set the table when I’m all alone, light candles and use cloth napkins, but I love eating Chef Boyardee’s Spaghetti-O’s while I watch Gray’s Anatomy and plan a McDreamy love affair I don’t really want.

Finding hole-in-the-wall bars: Nothing screams liberation like confidently strutting into a crowded bar, grabbing a stool in the corner, paying for your own drink and whipping out a crossword… sans company.

On the other hand, there are some things I hate doing by myself and always will:

Walking into a party alone: I still get that “what do I do with my arms” kind of feeling. “Why would anyone want to talk to me?” I wonder and sidle along the edge of the room until I can make an unobtrusive exit.

Cooking for one: Is a chore. I’d rather stand alone in the kitchen and laugh and drink wine while I whip up a fabulous gourmet meal guaranteed to win me a dining companion a few nights out of the week.

Reading the Sunday paper: I want to open the travel section and reach over and grab someone’s wrist and say, “We have to go to Easter Island right now!” and hear him (or her…) say, “Absolutely.” Even if we only go there in our minds.

Bedding down for the night: There’s no better feeling than slipping into freshly washed, smooth sheets and cuddling up next to someone that makes you feel safe and secure simply by putting his arms around you and nuzzling your hair.

Yes, there are sometimes when I want to put on a Pretenders CD and play “I’ll Stand By You” until my eyes swell shut from crying. But I’m lucky enough to have I’ll-be-there-till-the-end friends, and married couples who scoop me up in their loving aura and take me to restaurants and coffee shops and invite me for lunch dates and Thanksgiving dinner and insist we go traveling together. Who reassure me that I’m funny, sassy, and sexy and far too good for any one man to handle. Because they *HEART* me.

Cinder Child: Redux

2007-02-01T14:26:00.000-08:00

As always at this time of year I reprint what, in my opinion, is the most meaningful piece I've written. My dad never got to hear it and I can't help but wonder how he'd feel knowing he was the source of so much pent-up emotion.

It is but a wisp or a leak of a shadow,
A thin trendil of smoke from the cinders that I blow,
A sooty black finger painting deftly upon high,
A blaming gesture at Sun for denying it Sky,
And in its rage it hisses and crackles and yearns;
The red, ruddy glow of hunger returns.

In the space of a second, a tongue lashes out;
Then three score more are dancing about.
The fire spirit screams and rips at the earth,
Turning on the wood that had given it birth.
This hiss now a roar, rumbles through the tress,
Brown curling edges lacing green leaves.

The glow now a beacon, white flames burning bright,
Great bodies crashing down through searching light.
The finger now a serpent, writhing back to its home.
Back to the Earth to be left on its own.

Now the angry child sits spent and weary,
A fading flame within a blackened clearing,
The fiery tantrum had worn itself down,
And the flame flickers out with hardly a sound.

In memory of the bravest dad I've ever known.

Breaking an Angel

2007-01-30T15:48:00.000-08:00

To the man in the moon: Yes, I am beautiful and yours and whisper sweet thoughts when I’m silent with doubt. There’s a fear in me that I’ve never discovered and never charted, but I’m too wary and my walls are up too high for me to let you too close. But we could paint resilience and blindness on each other’s eyelids for a lifetime and still know, and still break with the knowing. The truth: the magnitude of your aura chokes me. It is too vast , and too innocent, too uncorrupted. Pure. I’m not used to purity. Nobody’s ever come to me outwardly whole, unbroken, and begging naively to be hurt and it scares me. There’s a commitment that comes with tainting purity.

Introduction: A new character. A man. Seemingly marvelous. Strokes my mind with his palm and coos to it until it is complacent, pliable. He speaks attention. Long lazy nights of talking in bed and intimacy in places forbidden. He is clean sheets and fluffy towels. He is my discovering the South at night. Scene upon woven scene into a detailed story tale all trimmed in a green disguise and slipped into freshly shined boots. He speaks attention- attention, a language I already understand and speak fluently. And crave! And how!I change when he’s around. I look at him and remember what it feels to be comfortably intimate with someone. He likes to play with my hair, softly, cat-like, pawing at my long red strands as if he’s stroking gold. He likes to push it out of my eyes, enjoys the excuse to touch me, and I, teasing, tilt my head for the sole purpose of surreptitiously making eyes at him underneath my hair.

But yet… so unfamiliar am I with such depths… I push and push until there’s nothing left and I plunge into the life with the one I’m most comfortable with: myself.

You could romance me, to be sure. Wine me, dine me, walk a step behind me so it’s clear who leads this dance. I’ll only seduce you over the edge. Like a lamb being led. Not to slaughter… to ecstasy. And when you’re pleading for salvation, I’ll kiss the corner of your mouth and whisper in the moments before your fall: leave me before you hate me.

Trust me, this won't hurt a bit...

2006-01-26T22:14:00.000-08:00

I’ve been thinking a lot…
(I know, "uh oh", right?)
This may be one of my most intense posts, even if it might possibly be long winded.
(Make with the coping; you'll appreciate the skill later in life.)

Life is really just a treasure map.
At least, that’s the way I’ve been trying to look at it.

There aren't too many ways it can end for me.
There’s not a terrible lot of ways you can deal with a neurotic madcap.
I'll go down somewhere along the way
or I'll make it to the Old Madcaps Home on Retirement Island.
Whatever.
That happens to everyone.

What matters is how we perceive things and how we (or how we don't, as the case may be) accept them.

I have never, ever expected to make it through this life with no scars.
I wouldn't even want that. A person with no scars can never really be complete.
We're multifaceted creatures. We need all ranges of emotions.

Someone once told me something that became very meaningful to me. In a way, it was the best thing she ever did for me, because it changed my perceptions, and helped me through a rough spot in my life.

I said to her: "I'm sorry I'm this way... I never used to be so... messed up..."
She looked into my eyes (back when she used to do that) and she told me:
"Don't be sorry. Your scars make you beautiful."

There are different kinds of trauma and scarring. The only thing you can hope for in life is honesty. I don't mind the heartbreaks. I don't mind the pain. I don't even mind the trauma, so long as it's honest. The only times I’ve ever been really and totally destroyed, is when I’ve discovered, after the fact, that I had been living my life under falsehoods. Thinking a situation was something it was not, and basing my choices, reactions, and life on a foundation of someone else’s lies.

That is a wicked thing.

If you're honest, I can never be disappointed in you. Because you tried. And you made it right by being honest. I will always respect that… No, lies up front, with the coming clean later on when it’s too late most certainly does not count as honesty.

Back to the point:
What stories will we have to tell when we're old? What tales of our life?
I would much rather be able to tell the story of "we did that crazy thing way back when and thought there might be a chance we’d end up in jail by the end of the night but it the most amazing night of our lives" than the story of "yeah, we chickened out and kept asking ourselves what if".

I have never lived the life of a coward, and I don't plan to start. Ever.

I would rather die with a scar on my heart shaped like you.
Than to die with a hole in my heart shaped like you.

When I look back on my life from afar someday, I'd rather think that we had something wonderful and wild, imperfect and brilliant that ended in the biggest heartbreak ever, than to think that we ran from the thunder like scared sheep and missed out on every opportunity, every joy, every moment, every kiss and every pleasure because we fear pain.

In the long run, when I look back on my life, that would be my regret.
I wouldn't regret a broken heart. I would regret that I let the chance for it pass me by.

You move me. You inspire me.
You make me laugh.
You even make me feel special.
I won’t throw that away out of fear.
I won’t throw that away even with a promised certainty of getting hurt in the future.

I choose life and love and possibilities.
I choose you.
I choose to have what we can while we can, and if you leave a massive sized scar plastered over my heart...
then it will be a beautiful scar.

K~R~I~S~T~I~N

2005-12-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

K	Kinky
R	Respectable
I	Irresistible
S	Strange
T	Tasty
I	Industrious
N	Nutty

Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com

Smitten

2005-10-04T02:15:00.000-07:00

Those three words I never said together
Before I made them in my mouth
Chewed them soft like sugar cane
Polished them with my tongue
Gave them to you imperfectly
And I swore I’d never get them lost
Is it how I can’t find sleep?
Or get fed?
Or close my eyes without your image on my lids?
This thing I said…
Is it how my heart grows at the sight of you?
Then, baby…
Yes.
I think, perhaps, I do.

No Pink Elephants Here...

2005-09-22T07:55:00.000-07:00

If failure flies in the face of my master plan (see below) I can always start a career as a Pink-Pleather-Bustier-Wearing-Fairy! Somehow, I don't think that getup would like quite as pleasing on me...

**Kudos to Janet for keeping cool and snapping this picture!

The Slap of Now

2005-09-13T07:58:00.000-07:00

In the end each of us has only one story to tell. Yet despite having lived that story, most people have neither the courage nor any idea of how to tell it. I haven't lived this long so that when I finally have to talk about my life, I’ll be inclined to lie. Decades from now I’ll be an old woman with a head full of memories fragile as eggs. They (the memories) will shout, loud and demanding,

“Remember me!”

They’ll scream, roar and bellow,

“Tell the truth! Are you sure about that? Or are you making up a more convenient past just to make yourself feel better??”

It’s too easy to turn your best profile to history’s mirror. But history doesn’t give a damn. In the end, you’re the only one who does.

Here I am in all my haughty, 26 year old arrogance. I talk like I’m old. Like I don’t expect anything better to happen because I’ve lived too long and seen too much to have any more hope. In reality, I’m far luckier than most people. I don’t think life is very friendly, but I know we can command hope. You can turn it on and off like a spigot; shooting away at full blast if you choose.

And yet…

Another birthday past…
Another year gone…
Another lap around the sun
365 repetitions of SSDD…

The only change is a few more laugh lines, a lot more bitterness and an ever-slowing metabolism. I have, in no way this past year, moved forward in life, increased my marketability, or enhanced the value of my existence. I’m exactly the same person I was at 25 as I am now at 26. It’s definitely time for a major upheaval… some dairy-air fire-lighting… a strategy of mutual purpose and sacrifice.

Too many people spend their lives focused on insuring a good place in their next life, instead of embracing the one they have. Doesn’t that just smack of laziness?

If your life sucks, you fix it. You don’t fall on your knees (see previous post!) and wish for someone to make it better next time around.

Surely, if you’re as old as I am, you’d have enough experience and enough confidence in yourself to act, if not with perfect results, than at least with perfect resolve.

My Comprehensive Insurance Policy: When I screw this up, as I’m almost fated to do, I’ll smash the mirror that mocks me and continue to fill up my nest of memories.

How Far is Heaven?

2005-09-05T22:39:00.000-07:00

When you’re on Cloud 9 it can be pretty easy to forget what it’s like back on earth. But once the silver lining is breached, you can come down fast and hard. It’ll hurt and sting and make you so miserable that you think there’s nothing left to feel anymore. Then you dust yourself off and, once again, start the slow ascent to that extraordinary place somewhere beyond reality.

Just don’t forget to take your head out of the clouds once in awhile or you’ll end up on your knees again.

Stupid Dumb Duh

2005-08-21T07:37:00.000-07:00

In all my technological illiteracy- I somehow caused my computer to crash and am too senseless to fix it, even with the help of The Geeks at Dell. (This is as per The Geeks at Dell, who refuse to deal with me anymore!) I've lost nearly everything, including my email addresses. For those of you with enough free time on your hands to actually read this: email me at bocephus@hvc.rr.com so I can start my address book anew!

Techno Me

2005-08-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

If ever I need a good laugh, I'll watch this a couple times!

Raging Adulthood

2005-07-28T05:12:00.000-07:00

Isolated? Isn't that what they said in the 60's? Just another reminder that we're grown-ups now.

When did that happen? And how are we supposed to get rid of it?

Wicked

2005-07-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

Kiss me too fiercely
Hold me too tight
I need help believing
You're with me tonight
My wildest dreams
Could not foresee
Lying beside you
With you wanting me

Just for this moment
As long as you're mine
I've lost all resistance
And crossed some borderline
And if it turns out
It's over too fast
I'll make ev'ry last moment last
As long as you're mine
I'll wake up my body
And make up for lost time

Just for this moment
As long as you're mine
Come be how you want to
And see how bright we shine
Borrow the moonlight
Until it is through
And know I'll be here holding you
As long as you're mine

Let's Get It Started!

2005-07-11T11:47:00.000-07:00

After 3-5 excruciatingly anxious business days, the stork; or perhaps I should say the canary in the form of a bright yellow DHL truck, delivered my new baby! What fun!

...and I spent the rest of the afternoon shooting...

...anything...

...that came within appropriate distance...

...of my lens!

There's a Tear in My Beer

2005-07-06T10:37:00.000-07:00

Walk a Little slower, Daddy said a little child so small. I'm following in your footsteps and I don't want to fall.
Sometimes your steps are very fast, sometimes they're hard to see; So walk a little slower Daddy, for you are leading me.
Someday when I'm all grown up, you’re what I want to be. Then I will have a little child who'll want to follow me.
And I would want to lead just right, and know that I was true; So, walk a little slower, Daddy, for I must follow you!!

Missing my dad today.

Not for any particular reason other than it's a day like any other. I've got the proverbial 'soft spot' for all things familial lately and I've been soaking my memories in lots of Johnny Cash and an old IAFF (firefighters’ union) tee-shirt.

I try to concentrate on all the things I was lucky enough to share and receive from him (great taste in doo-wop, ginger-red hair, & a savvy attitude that rears up at the most unexpected times) but I can't help grieving for all the things I lost.

I’m old enough to be on my own, but young enough to miss being “Daddy’s Girl.” My most comforting thought is that I have something that can never be taken away- an angel watching over me.

Then again, he’s probably watching me wondering why he didn’t take my grandfather’s advice and lock me in my room till I was 35.

Cure for the Unimaginative

2005-06-29T20:53:00.000-07:00

It’s fairly obvious that my Lego Skills suck. Not that I was deprived as a kid- I just had to go to friends houses to play with all those cool, popular toys like Lite Brite, Barbie’s Dream House, Slotcars, Moonbeamers… and yes, Legos.

Instead, I had Play-Doh, a GI Joe “Scarlett” figurine, Care Bears, Jem & the Hologram dolls and my favorite- the Lincoln Logs Frontier 114 Piece Frontier Building Set.

So who can blame me for the unimaginative Home & Garden Display I created? Pictured above on the right. The cool-ass, ingenious model airplane was done by someone who wanted to upshow me with his uncanny ability to find just the right Lego.

Now, give me some of my old toys and I can create a three-story Lincoln Log mansion, complete with Play-Doh furniture all suited to fit Scarlett, Aja, Jerrica and Jem with an addition for my Funshine and Love-A-Lot Bears.

On the National Wire...

2005-06-29T05:12:00.000-07:00

I don't know which is scarier- the threat of a shark attack or the an STD

The most liberating thing I've read today...

Just for kicks, let's make up some news!

If Bush needs help withdrawing, he might want to call Clinton up for advice.

The Games are coming to NY! Psych...

This is news????

Confessions

2005-06-28T06:00:00.000-07:00

The good news:
He’s 6’3” with thick, curly, chestnut brown hair… deep blue eyes complete with little crinkles in the corners… the most engaging smile in the room to melt your heart, at the moment intended for you and the absurd joke you made…by far, the most fascinating male in the whole county, possibly the state… with the presence of a waking volcano that would render even Angelina Jolie dizzy…

The bad news:
He’s your best-friend-since-second-grade’s little brother.

The little monster that chased you around the house trying to kiss you when he was three.

The clown that let you dress him in makeup and a pink skirt when he was six.

The naïve boy you persuaded to take the blame for the spilt soda on his mom’s baby grand piano when he was ten.

The immature pest you ignored in the halls of the high school because he was a lowly freshman.

The scrawny kid you snickered at for joining the wrestling team when he was fifteen.

The sort of endearing, potential stud you ran into at a party when he was eighteen and still not fully matured.

That was then, this is now and the thought of this full-blown hunk chasing you around to smack his lips on yours doesn’t gross you out quite as much and the only trouble you want to get him in is the kind you get in together. And if you’re doing anything over his body, it involves much more saliva than required for snickering.

So, you flirt a bit… reminisce about the old times… repeat over and over you can’t believe how he’s grown…feel the hackles on the back of your neck raise up not from the crooked little smile he gives every time you gush over his new found biceps, but from the deadly glare your best friend is giving you from across the room. Oops. Snagged.

Maybe I’m the one that belongs on Montel… Drooling of a kid I’ve known since birth, wishing his big sister wasn’t your best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world, hoping that maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and realize it was all just a dream and, in reality, he’s the same skinny, mop-headed brat I used to lock in the basement so I could get privacy.

If the world didn’t suck, we’d all fall off. So, while I pick my jaw up the floor, and my dignity slowly resurfaces, I promise to keep my new eye-candy at arms length and look, but never touch.

Men In Coats

2005-06-20T04:37:00.000-07:00

Need a good laugh today?

Throw 'em back in white makeup and put 'em on the streets of Paris and they just turn back into mimes though. Better to keep them in coats. They seem much less pedophilic that way.

Dunk-A-Dork

2005-06-16T04:59:00.000-07:00

Spent over an hour dunking my friends as part of my evil plan for soul accumulation!

Just more proof that I have way too much time on my hands!

Bringer of Sweetness and Light

2005-06-14T16:40:00.000-07:00

After a full day of hostile emotions threatening to liquefy my brain, I've found a constructive outlet for my bitterness and animosity.

My Evil Plan: Soul Accumulation
My Underlying Drive: Sadistic Pleasure

First, I must expose The Chosen One. This will cause the world to sign up for life insurance policies, overwhelmed by my arrival. Who is this demon straight out of hell? Where did she come from? And why does she look so damn good in spiked leather and corsets?

Next, I must seize control of the Moon (ooh, tides!). This will all be done from The Island of Mu, a mysterious place of unrivaled dark glory. Upon seeing this, the world will fall into catatonic trances, as countless hordes of winged monkeys hasten to obey my every bidding.

Finally, I will tauntingly wave my opening of the seven seals, bringing about rivers that run red with blood. My name shall become synonymous with sheer dementedness, and no man will ever again dare interrupt my sentences, spill their beer on me, or take my words out of context. Everyone will bow before my mystical abilities, and the world will have no choice but to erect a gigantic statue of me riding a dolphin.

Enter maniacal cackling.

If you only knew...

2005-06-12T20:54:00.000-07:00

The day our worlds collided everything changed. Until they were the same again.

It makes me cry whenever I see your face. I’m miserable to feel your sadness. Your words touch me in places you’ll never know again.

I grieve for what almost was and never could have been, even though it seems it all worked itself out for one extraordinary two year old.

Now I know why you refused and why you keep me at a distance. No more maybes, or one days, or for nows…

Gently Into That Good Night

2005-06-09T02:10:00.000-07:00

In memory of Detective Marty J. Michetti, Jr.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

A jade curtain of willow fronds parts world of green earth from that of blue pond A grey curtain of morning mist separates turquoise waters from blue sky a more slender veil is at the portal hiding the
paradise of the immortal.

Tribute...

2005-05-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, T.J.
Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional.

Garrulous Gender Critics

2005-05-27T12:36:00.000-07:00

I found out some disturbing information. A man… A male friend that I once considered (and quickly rejected based on his history with women) having a ‘thing’ with, told me secrets about someone. Someone whose animosity towards me is the butt of many a joke. Someone who’s a person eminently comfortable in all-male milieus. Hint, hint, wink, wink…

What damaging info that I could use to bolster my status with those most influential. Images of special perks bestowed upon me flew through my head.

And I was decidedly disgusted. Not only with what had assaulted my senses with offensive visuals, but with my first malicious impulse. So, thanks, M. Thanks ever so much for the inside information. So gracious and obliging of you but I don’t really need to know the gynecological facts behind my Arch Enemy’s career, thank you very much.

A woman living off the response of men in the world is like a staked goat- she’s open prey to any wolf that happens by.

The emperor had no clothes, but that made it easier to see he had a big dick.

Distantly In Love

2005-05-17T04:35:00.000-07:00

I floated away, high amongst lofty anticipations
Leaving him in a field of finality
Plucking lachrymal beads from my cheeks
And throwing pockets of air
To one unseen

Not knowing the seal of his last good-bye
He waved
And faded into the past, a mere mortal
Defeated by a God

So high, feeling so low
The desperation never shared
Me, a traitor in the midst of paradise
Temptations offered
Fruition denied
Therapy for my body, a dermal remedy
Toxic for my soul, roasting away my ruined heart

A Greek Tragedy

2005-05-12T05:32:00.000-07:00

It's tragic that today could be the end of a new beginning. Possibly even the end of something special.

Cinderella

2005-05-11T05:03:00.000-07:00

Sent that girl away a night ago
And don't she know it's been ashes

Sent that girl away a night ago
And don't she know how it aches

Heart of mine
Throat of smoke

I sent a girl away and it's been Hell opened up
Working on my skin till it be bone

Bitter Suite

2005-05-09T06:31:00.000-07:00

I woke up the other day,
{this is months after the business with X}
and realized that some essential pattern of my emotional life had shifted.
I used to be into what Janet and I called sequential monogamy: I had a series of men I was happy with for awhile, before they peeled off their masks and revealed themselves to be an assortment of werewolves, zombies, and bloodsuckers.

The arc of my relationships had always been the same:
A small bump of ecstasy followed by a long grim slide into boredom and despair.
Still…
It was a life.

And it was not that different from the (romantic) lives of a lot of people I knew. We were all having trouble for a time…
…putting together anything resembling an extended, committed tie.

Connect? That's what lonely people do.

AGGHHH!
Let’s be completely truthful:

Most people, at that time in their lives, have trouble putting together a coherent sentence!

I'm like the Statue of Liberty. no one wants to pay for the upkeep, but everybody wants to say they've been there. Priscilla Davis

Daddy Dearest

2005-05-08T13:00:00.000-07:00

I never realized as a child how huge my father was. To me, he was just my father and I didn’t have any real perspective. But whenever anyone came to my house, they would say, “Who’s that man?” They’d be staggered by the sheer presence of him. I’d say “that’s my father” like it was no big deal, but I think being intimate with male physical power and prowess at that age inured me to it somehow, so I was never intimidated or even that impressed by it later in life.

But… that’s my perception at 25 when I can no longer look up at him or be enveloped by his powerful embrace and I still cry when Shep and the Limelights come on the radio.

All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Costa Rica

2005-05-04T03:02:00.000-07:00

-Peligroso! Despacio!
-Bartering is always a good option when you’re pulled over for speeding
-God, damn right, it’s a beautiful day!
-I like it when they have heads so I can suck on them
-Never doubt the Radster
-I speak horse
-Belgian kisses are best when served scratchy
-I hate Justin
-I don’t know where I’m a-gonna go when the volcano blows
-I love the smell of burning garbage
-Watch out for falling coconuts
-Even large men in speedos can be sexy
-4 hour car rides can be entertaining with the right person
-There’s always room for empanadas
-When having a profound religious talk, make sure there’s a bowlful of arroz con camarones nearby
-Belligerent drunks need love too
-You can eat anything off a stick if you’re drunk enough
-You'll always have more fun wearing a 'feel me' shirt
-When looking for girl action, hang with M
-Entering areas of high volcanic activity may result in death
-Los Lagos should be viewed only at night
-Costa Rica really sucks… especially the view
-Just follow the road of good intentions
-Be weary of crickets in the bath tub
-Hola, Luna! Hola, Dangir!
-Be on the lookout for Nazi children
-M, E, and A give great pillowtalk
-Don’t drink the Guaro!
-Redheads really have orange hair
-Always let the Queen grab your ass
-Do not enter sketchy sodas
-Always be ready for a Tico hookup!
-Pura Vida!

What I was writing about a year ago

2005-04-18T03:02:00.000-07:00

So, after the wedding, I was sure of several things: First, that I’d fallen in love with the most amazingly fantastic man that has ever lived, bar none. We had bonded at an elemental level to a degree that I had always thought couldn’t exist; it was wonderful and spooky at the same time. The feelings I have for insert name here are those described by centuries of poets from every culture, decades of songwriters, millennia of artists. Inadvertently, we’d stumbled across that… thing that most people search their entire lives for.
Second, close on the heels of number one, was that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this man. And I desperately wanted “the rest of my life” to start that very day. That’s understandable. Of course, this realization led directly to the third epiphany: that was not going to happen.
Present Day- In another sense, it was all fated to happen and it all happened the way it was fated. The most important thing was getting through that moment and the one after that... knowing that I'd loved even though I lost.
I recall a sense of cluttered, chaotic lives, and that we somehow misplaced each other. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

Just Won't Quit

2005-04-03T09:20:00.000-07:00

And I never really sleep anymore And I always get those dangerous dreams And I never get a minute of peace And I gotta wonder what it means And I gotta wonder what it means Maybe it's nothing and I'm under the weather Maybe it's just one of those bugs going round Maybe I'm under a spell and it's magic Maybe there's a witch doctor with an office in town Is this a blessing? Or is it a curse? Does it get any better? Can it get any worse? Will it go on forever? Is it over tonight? Does it come with the darkness? Does it bring out the light? Is it richer than diamonds?Or just a little cheaper than spit? I don't know what it is but it just won't quit

Walk and Talk Like Angels

2005-03-31T02:54:00.000-08:00

With a room by the sea
And a voice in the sand
Telling me your truth
And telling me your view
In how you see the world
Spinning, spinning round
And what is love and what is death
The fears you have to put to rest
And so you walk
Like angels talk
With a smile in the sun
And a face in the sand
Sitting on a swing
Unfolding bits of string
The face is innocence
But the words are something more
It’s in the voice
It’s in the sound
It’s in the way the world is round
Like angels talk