My thoughts are like dominoes...

I was sipping my perfect Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte while on my way home this evening when a collection of thoughts were unleashed in my mind. A combination of things began my passionate thought process and made me want to write tonight. I haven't written for a while, but my thoughts have been such a constant, forceful hemorrhage swelling to the point that I can't sleep at night.

It was idiotic of me to go to the mall over Labor Day weekend. Bath and Body Works was having an outrageous sale and I bought some gifts for my husband that he won't see for another 7 months due to his current residence in the swirling sandy land. Harmony and I pushed through the crowds and waited patiently in long lines and managed to accumulate a couple of heavy bags to take home.

Before we even reached the glass doors of the mall, I saw the rain pouring down outside. It never fails to rain when I am leaving the mall in this town. Being Labor Day and all, I had parked the car over the river and through the woods away. Harmony and I had a nice sloshing wet journey ahead of us. It's a good thing I come from Seattle and I love the rain like I do. It just doesn't get to me like it does to some other people. I even think it is blasphemy to use an umbrella. It's against my religion.

So Harmony and I make our way through the rain towards the car. It didn't take long before my pants were soaked up to my knees and the rest of me resembled a drowned rat. Still, I didn't mind and we were in no hurry. But we should have been... The bag that held my many Bath and Body Works bottles became soggy and every bottle fell into the middle of the parking lot and rolled around, spreading like a burst bag of marbles. I could have felt embarrassed as Harmony and I scrambled to pick up our yummy, smelly goods from the wading pool parking lot while several hoopties full of disgruntled black people glared at us. Instead, I felt good. Logic found me and told me that I should laugh at myself, so I did all the way to the car as the other larger paper bag was now weighed down and about to tear open.

We were in the car and not a spot on us was dry and the feeling of the soaking wet clothes against my skin reminded me of so many times I had been soaked like this back home in Seattle. I used to have to walk to school in the rain and my clothes would stay wet all day long while I sat in school. All these memories made me crave Starbucks like a junkie craves cocaine. Lucky for us, there was a drive-through Starbucks on the way home.

When we pulled up, there was a sign announcing the seasonal special Pumpkin Spice Latte. I knew what I was going to get. And when I got it in my hands, the first thing I did was smell it. They topped it off with a few shakes of Nutmeg that greeted my nose and again, I was lost in memories and a freeway of ideas and thoughts. It tasted perfect, and just then I knew that hypothetically, if I knew I was going to gain 300lbs if I drank another latte, I would have to take the latte anyway.

I LOVE Fall with a passion that compares to sexual bliss. If I had to use a season to describe myself, I would BE Fall. (If that makes no sense to anyone but myself, I am okay with that.) The latte was the catalyst for my Fall tangent. I started to think about the cold nights of my life that I have spent wrapped up in comfy sweaters and thick socks, nuzzling into my husband and a warm beverage to save my bony hands from freezing. I remember taking walks outside in this season all bundled up, with the wind blowing through my hair and in the trees. When it rushes through the trees, it makes the most amazing sound and causes the leaves to fall as if they were giant snow flakes. Just writing about it makes me want to be there now.

My parents used to take me out to the country in the Fall and we would cut our pumpkins off the vine in a pumpkin patch. I like the green veiny and oddly shaped ones as apposed to the annoyingly symmetrical round buttery orange ones. But that was a long time ago. Before I moved here, I made a point to take my daughter to the same pumpkin patch I used to go to as a child. I take even more pleasure in going now, pulling my daughter in a red waggon through the pumpkin patch and dwarfing her with my huge hideous pumpkin selections. I always pick a small one to bake and eat. It's my own tradition.

I LOVE FALL. I love the colors, the smells, the food, the holidays within the season. Don't think I would forget to mention the clothes! I love the coats and scarves and boots that come out just before the season, during the waning days of summer. I love the Fall with all of my soul. Which brings me to a possible direction change in life that I have been thinking about.

My dear husband called me the other day from Afghanistan. He mentioned his intent to re-enlist with the military to become a recruiter. They are offering him a bonus and this career choice would make it less likely that he will get deployed again for at least a couple years. It was a difficult idea for me to accept for the first five minutes. I still have a bad taste in my mouth from those lying sack of shit recruiters that signed him up when he went back in. In general, I lament those people that sell their souls to get people to join the military and will do just about anything necessary to get their precious commission. I don't want my husband to be one of those guys. But the figure he gave me for the bonus they are offering in combination with the possibility of getting the FUCK out of this horrible military town I currently reside in makes my mouth water and the wheels in my head spin.

There is never a guarantee when you deal with the military. Until my husband actually signs the paperwork, I can't get to excited. But if it works out the way I hope, we will be able to request a few places we might want to relocate to. There is no guarantee for that, either. But....... The state of Maine is breathtaking in the Fall!

I am currently obsessed with the idea of moving to Maine. It would be next year before any of this would be possible. And I'm sure that my husband has his share of places he wants to go too. But even the smallest possibility makes my heart skip. I was looking at pictures of places in Maine last night online and almost cried because of how beautiful it is there. And that is where I have had another revelation...

I no longer want to go back to Washington. I love it there. I have family and friends there, it's beautiful there, I know my way around and the culture and class are unbeatable. There is never a shortage of things to do... But I never thought I would feel this way. For the longest time, I have held on to the Northwest, thinking my heart was there. But I am realizing now how possible it is to fall in love with a new place. I thought I wanted to settle down and retire back at home in Washington. I think I have been limiting myself. I also think that all this time away from both home and from my husband has liberated me slightly. It has made me less afraid of moving somewhere new. I know I will survive no matter what. Especially after living here!

All the thoughts about moving have made me think of where I want to go and not just physically, but with life in general. I have really felt like this last year has been really stagnant. I haven't had much adventure or excitement. There have been a lot of difficult things to deal with, the hardest being the absence of my husband. He has always balanced me out and brought stability to my life. So I have been left with a lot to desire and have been day-dreaming lately about the life I want.

Most importantly, I want my husband in my life. I want to be more in touch with nature. I want to have the wilderness as my playground, be it the mountains, forests or sea. (In Main there is all of those things) I want to live comfortably. I do not want an enormous house or the most expensive vehicle and all of the finest things. I want to have the time for hiking, fishing, hunting, kayaking, rock climbing, snowboarding and a rewarding career. I don't want my career to be about making obscene amounts of money. I want it to be rewarding on a personal level. I want a dog, a jeep and some property in the woods. I want the wind back in my hair and the chill back in my bones.

I feel like I have been asleep for the last 8 months. Just waiting for my life to change, waiting to feel passionate about something, anything again. It won't happen overnight, but there is a clarity that I am beginning to have. I am really starting to get a sense of who I am and the kind of person I want to be. I have more to write on this subject, as my thoughts are like a free flowing stream lately...

Finished Products from Seattle Trip

This shoot was done by Kenya Karver. It was a lovely experience working with her on her "Birds of Paradise" project. The make-up was done by Christine of Schock Makeup. It took over three hours to construct this look and the only clothing involved was the strategically placed feather pasties. Even the eyelashes are made of feathers. It was a fun shoot.

This shoot was done by Barry Druxman. He is a very talented, but strange fellow. The make-up was done by Kay Mathews.

This shoot was incredible. The Photographer was miss Vivian Hsu. The dress was designed by my childhood friend Katie of Papusza Cotoure. Her inspiration was a canary. She will be moving to New York in the fall to further persue her clothing design dreams. I have a feeling that she will go very far. Make-up was done beautifully by Robert of Robert Makes Faces. He was a delight to meet and work with. The shoot took place on the rooftop of a downtown Seattle building. In one of the shots, I was on the very edge of the top of that building with the wind blowing. One wrong move and I would have fallen over the side and met my death. You wouldn't know it from my expression though!

This shoot was done by one of the nicest photographers I have ever met. Michael Moe conducted this shoot in the Jamestown part of Seattle in the evening after the sun went down. He likes to shoot in an editorial style. Make-up was done beautifully by Dawn Tunnell and I put the wardrobe together myself. I love the outcome.

I am going back to Seattle for the month of October and have four more photo shoots planned so far. Should be a fun trip!

The Clothes She Wears

I LOVE clothes. I guess that means that I LOVE shopping too. But forget about the money aspect for right now, and let's focus on the clothes...

It's not uncommon for little girls to play dress-up just like I did. Sometimes I would have a friend over and we would combine our stash of cool clothes and play dress-up and make-believe for hours. Unbeknownst to our mothers, their clothes were often snuck away from their proper spaces in their closets to join the fun. I think I should mention some of my favorite and most memorable pieces of that time.

At age five, I owned a bright red dress with white lace and a hoop in the bottom hem. My father hated that dress because every time I sat down, I would sit on the hoop on accident and it would cause the dress to fly up and reveal the matching red panties with perfect matching white lace. I think this is why my Grandmother bought that dress in the first place. Another memorable one is the Thundercats snow boots I coveted so much because they changed from white to blue when you stepped in the snow. Remembering these earliest practices with clothes, I can assume that it was the beginning of my love affair with clothes.

During that same time that I was a little girl, I had the coolest Grandmother in the world (as mentioned in the preceding post) This Grandmother loved spoiling me almost as much as I loved clothes. She would not only just buy clothes for me, but she would make them as she loved to sew. I was exposed to what I believe to be 75% of the fabric stores in Washington State at that young and impressionable age.

Fast forward to teenager times...

What a crazy time. This is when clothes seem to become ten times as important, and not because you like them, but because other people have to like them. I never was popular despite my efforts. So one day, I quit trying to afford those expensive designer clothes that all the cool kids were wearing, and I began to really artistically express myself with clothes. I enjoyed re-creating my look all the time, despite the stares of peers in the school hallways. Another important factor of clothing yourself at such a time is the attention factor. At this time, clothes become more and more revealing as the girls become aware that it's not just other girls that pay attention to their clothes anymore.

Noteworthy clothes of this time include a red, plaid schoolgirl skirt with two zippers up the front of each thigh and nicely paired with thigh-high stockings and tall, black heels. YIKES! I was a hottie in that outfit, but at this age, I now know better than to go anywhere but my bedroom in such an outfit. (I do still have it for that purpose, he he) I'm also remembering a pair of blue velvet shoes, leopard print pants and some various other club clothes that I would not be seen in at this time in my life.

Sometime around age 16, things changed again. I had snagged the love of my life and my now husband. It was still important to look sexy and beautiful, but not like the way I looked when I actually snagged him. (daisy dukes and a cleavage bearing tank top) So my clothes became more mature with items like pinstripe slacks and jackets and blouses. I think this is when I started paying attention to pretty underwear now that I was wearing more conservative clothing.

So far, I have neglected to mention my love for all things vintage. I discovered around this time, a passion for vintage clothes and some of my first purchases were a pair of men's golfing knickers that fit me perfectly. This is when I began my collection of hole in the wall vintage clothing stores all over Seattle and the surrounding suburbs.

Also at age 16, clothes became more sentimental to me. My husband and I shared much of our time at his army barracks room. I loved sharing this time with him, as well as I loved sharing his clothes. He had a certain pair of martial arts pants and top that I coveted as pajamas and a white sweatshirt that I had bought for him, and ended up wearing myself. When we first met he had a black hat with red, orange and yellow flames going up the sides that I paired with my super tight, leopard print pants I mentioned before.

I was inspired to write this blog all about the clothes I have worn, when I was going through all of my clothes before I left to come on this trip home to Washington. As I went through our closet and the various other tricky places I have found to put out clothes, I was thinking about how old some of them are. I was thinking of how some of them marked the times when Michael and I were first dating. I have clothes I wore when I was pregnant and after I had Harmony. I have clothes I wore in Jr. High. I still have the martial arts uniform and I still wear it for pajamas.

My eyes skipped around the closet and rested on Michael's clothes. I thought about how little his clothes have changed throughout all the time I have known him. His clothes have simply grown with him. He has a sharp, polished look, as well as a casual jeans and shirt look. That's pretty much it. (Outside of his Army uniforms) My eyes rested for a second on his Army dress uniform. He has two now. But the first one he has had longer than he has known me. He also has shirts a couple of shirts from when we first started dating that he doesn't wear even when he's home.

Up until a few months ago, I even had kept almost everything Harmony had ever worn in her entire almost four years of life. Now, I just have a small box in her closet of her baby clothes that I can occasionally open and go through. When I do that, I pick up each outfit and think of how cute and small she was. I even remember who bought most of those for her...

I LOVE clothes. I love them because they allow you to transform. What we wear reflects who we are and how we feel. It makes statements. I love how clothes mark a time and style in history and how you can re-live that time by putting them on again. I love the colors and tones and how certain fabrics feel on my skin. I love how there are clothes for every occasion. And OF CORSE, therein lies my love affair with accessories, shoes and make-up. But those are for another story, another time.

Grandmother's Wind

Today I found myself at Hillcrest Cemetary to visit the grave of my Grandmother. The Jeep I am driving is old and doesn't have a radio, so I drove in silence. I made my way past Earthworks Park where I spent many days of my youth playing amongst the mounds of earth that were built into the ground at that park. I drove on up taking note in how so many of the homes in the neighborhood had changed and how everything got smaller because I grew up.

I parked the Jeep and left my darling where she lay asleep in her seat as I predicted she would be and walked a few steps to the headstone marked in my maiden name and adorned with engraved roses. There lay my grandmother, under the grass and earth that I sat atop. She has been there for going on 13 years.

My hands swept the headstone of dried grass and earthly debris left from the tidy landscaping. And as I felt the cold stone, I recalled a time many years before her death when I sat at this same spot with cousins of mine, sweeping the gravestone that read only the name of my grandfather as my grandmother stood above us. It was his birthday. I began to weep.

Only a few words would escape my lips, as I knew that my Grandmother was there with me, inside of me and all around me. She was circling me like the cool wind was. She flew with the invisible wind and brushed the trees. The cemetary at that moment felt more alive to me than the death it enclosed. The leaves rustled in the wind of my Grandmother and reminded me of the pages of my life's history book turning. There I was in those pages, recalling far away memories . She would know my thoughts and feelings better than I could find words aloud for them.

I took my time there with her. But I didn't stay too long. I knew she would not want to be wept for, rather embraced in my knowing of her eternal peace. So I placed my fingers to my lips and then placed them back down to that cold stone before I departed that moment. I sealed it with my kiss.

VIVID

Moments ago, I sat in my window with my eyes closed listening to the thunder that called to me. Lightning cracked and I smile a little. I saw it's neon electric pulse even with my eyes closed. I sat there reminded of a simple southern night I spent with my love about nine months ago.

We were driving on a back road just outside of the army base along many miles of gun ranges. The rain spattered the windshield, complicating the night's visibility. Thunder domineered our ears like only Mother Nature's authority can. We stopped at the traffic sign and just then, the sky spit a lightning bolt down hard several feet from us. Our faces were lit for that drawn second as what looked like millions of fireflies bursting so close, tugged our eyes wide open.

My love and I exchanged mutual awe as we cautiously sailed on, the car feeling like a ship on rolling waves in Poseidon's soup pot. As we urged forward, the target man outlines on the gun ranges seemed to be running the other way each time they were illuminated by the lightning. I couldn't help but wish we were out there together, faces and palms turned up in embrace to this most natural phenomenon.

The stormed hurled itself all around us. It grew and thrusted and pulsed until we couldn't tell if we were breathing with it, or if our breath was captured by it.

As our destination drew near, my love and I grew woeful. It was as if the car took over and urged us to park there in that muddy gun range before we halted there. We sat for so long just watching as the sound of the rain eroding the glass was much too beautiful a language to ignore.

I remember everything about this night on that road in that storm. I still seem to feel the sticky humidity on my face and the sweet smell of sweat and rain and the dirt on our shoes. My love and I kissed there. He left saliva on my bottom lip and it felt cold when he withdrew. I shivered in the warmth that was wrapped around me.I could have sat in that spot under the storm even if I knew I would surely perish there in the End of Days. If it was the Apocalypse, it would have been embraced. I would give my soul to go back and reside in lost time there with my love...

Upcoming Trip Home and My Plans...

So I'm going home to Washington in a few weeks. I haven't been home since October of last year to watch my cousin who is really like my sister, have a baby. Woah. I can only hope that this next trip will be as exciting and wonderful. I miss Washington so damn much lately. For a while, I felt like I had settled in here and was doing okay. I made a life here for myself. It helped take away my yearnings for home. But I can't seem to shake them lately.

I have a growing list of things I plan to do when I get home. I will have a month to do them.

Michelle's bachelorette party

Michelle's wedding

Go to a couple of my old dance classes

Spend time with family and friends

4th of July at lake with Dad and Belinda

Go hiking in the woods all over the place

Visit Grandma's grave

Get a haircut from Tara (can't find a stylist I trust here)

Go shopping at Red light, Panache, Nordstroms, All my favorite thrift stores, Twice Sold Tales, Pike Place Market, China town, and all my other little favorite places.

Attend the Mediteranian Fantasy Festival

Take a Ferry Ride

Take a train to Portland

Visit Macro Tech

Eat at the British Pantry, Charlie's, The Honey Hole, Bimbo's Bitchin Burrito Kitchen, Kolbeh, Marakesh, Fucking Denny's!!!

Go to the park off Broadway street on Capitol Hill to play in the fountain

Go visit the teachers at my old high school

Do art/draw comics with Joel

More to come...

ZITS!!! BOOBIES!!!

PIMPLES! PUSS POCKS! CHICKEN POCK WANNA-BE'S! ACNE! BLEMISHES! BABY BOILS! BUMPS!

My young nephew Andrew once asked me why I had mosquito bites on my face in front of several people. I didn't know what to say. I was horrified. All I know is that I took great pleasure in asking him that same question when he reached a pubesent age.

About a year ago, I decided to call my imperfections "Beauty Blossoms." I thought that would help me feel better about my erupting face. But NAY! I still get them and I do NOT feel better about the very unbeautiful "Beauty Blossoms" blooming on my chin, cheeks and forhead!

I've tried everything! Expensive creams and cleansers, cheap ones, prescribed ones, microdermabrasion, (ouch) facials, changing my birth control, changing my diet, changing my make-up, changing my pillow covers...

Where and when does the maddness stop? It hurts my face! It chases away my confidence and always shows up at the worst time. I'm getting scars!

BOOBIES!!! MELONS! MOUNTAINS! TWINS! TA TA'S! TITTIES! THE GIRLS! (In my case, pancakes) While I am talking about my body, I would like to add that I am so mixed up about boobs. For the longest time I thought they were too small and for the past two weeks I completely changed my mind and decided that I had very cute small boobs and that I was going to be bold and wear a tanktop with no bra out. I usually NEVER go anywear with out my Victoria's Secret Super Padded Bra of OOOHHH and AHHHHHH. But I did it. And I felt fine. I survived. I even felt very pretty in a small-boobed, elegant sort of way. But then today I saw a bunch of pictures of some very beautiful women with huge breasts. And I wondered if I am as confident about my tiny tits as I was last week.

Those are my two major body insecurities. There are more, but I don't want to keep going. If I shout anymore at this late hour about zits, tits and other obscenitites, my neighbors are going to think I'm the crazy lady downstairs with terrets syndrome.

Rewind to a couple days ago when I was sitting on my couch watching Oprah. She did a show where she interviewed three celebrities over the age of 50. And the only thing I took away from that show was when all the women agreed that everything they thought was wrong with their body when they were 20, they are nostalgic for it now. Just process that for a second...

Does that make you feel better or worse? Does it make you realize that your body is wonderful and fine as it is now, or do you feel like you know it sucks now and it's not getting any better?

Damn Oprah and her shows that make you think and cry and otherwise be a woman.

Cold Schnitzel...

Here I am again awake at two am in a disasterous state. Tonight it's a messy updo, half a pack of cigarettes (that I keep trying to quit) some sketchy chicken schnitzel turned cold finger food and another dead-end to my Bunny slipper project. This is essentially what happens to you when the other half of your marriage is in Afghanistan trying not to step on landmines and you are suffering from symptoms of husband withdrawl and worry.

The hairstyle of the night is different, the food of choice is different and the project is different, but tonight is pretty much the same night I have been having this last several months that Michael has been deployed. (pulling out another cigarette)

Oh, I guess I am making it out to be worse than it is. I haven't blogged much in the last month and I have a lot of blanks in the mad-lib of life to fill in. I was very blessed to have my husband home for his leave for two weeks. Thanks to military discount, we afforded a short cruise to the Bahamas to celebrate our anniversary. Side Note: It feels like the two years of marriage lacks credit when you consider that the relationship started seven moons ago. I got accustomed to his presence in my life during this short time. It was so easy because it was right. Right where he should be.

I have made a life for myself here in this state. Made friends and a semi-schedual. The schedual thing is impressive for me. I was getting in the swing of things here. I began to stretch my limbs accross the entire bed, my clothes took up the majority of space in our closet and the house was clean for a change. I woke up at all hours of the night and early morning to answer phone calls from Afghanistan whenever I was lucky enough to get them. I cooked what I wanted to eat and watched what I wanted to on television. I took naps whenever I wanted. I took up more hobbies that I had time for, called more old friends and wrote more letters. I even started this blog while he was away in an attempt to fill my life and his void.

And then he came home...

I got news of a fallen soldier. It wasn't my soldier, but one who worked so close to mine that they breathed the same Afghan air, sat in the same humvee seats and shot at the same targets. But it was days until I found out that my soldier would come home to explain to the fallen soldier's wife and family the details of his death.

So it was Michael's assignment to go to the hometown of that soldier friend. And I drove so fast I might as well have grown wings and flew to be with him. He said it was the hardest thing he had ever had to do for the army. And after the orders were fullfilled, he was free to begin his leave as previously planned.

Before his friend's death, we were both imagining the day we would see each other again for the first time. Fantasies of laughter and tears and catching up were what got us both through our days. But the first time we saw each other after he left was not like we were imagining. It was sad under the circumstances, but we embraced it with heavy hearts just the same.

And so I returned to my duties as wife and rarely returned phone calls, cooked his favorite meals, laundered and folded his clothes and took up much less room in the bed, barely breathing under the weight of his arms and body smotheringly close. I forgot about television shows and gave up possesion of the remote control. I gave up on a clean house in favor of spending quality time with him. I was exaughsted from trying not to miss a moment and I was so happy.

The mourning came when I had to take him back to the airport and bid him one of many farewells. I know there will be so many more. Crying child in hand, we walked out to the car and drove away and back to this unstable exhistance. Back to staying up late in front of a heartless computer screen and sleeping in past noon for lack of better things to do. (lighting another cigarette)

I know that this is just a moment in time and like all moments, it will pass. I will find comfort in my routine without him. But for now, I am allowing myself to feel this moment because it is real. The reality of knowing that I won't see his face or touch his skin for another year. That I am married to a voice on a delayed and crackled phone line.

I cling to the hope that this experience will make me stronger and more resiliant...

I bought a guitar...

I bought a guitar recently and I am in love with her. I named her Leona after my grandmother. Then I did a photo shoot with her. I am taking guitar lessons and they are proving to be a rewarding way to fill my time. I love music. Always have. I am so glad that I am making myself part of it.

Just Something About a Man in Uniform...

I was a bad girl when I was growing up. At one point, I had this boyfriend that I was seeing that my parents forbid me from ever seeing again. Low and behold, I did what stupid, young and very bad girls do, and I saw him anyway.

A short time after I had my own kid, my mother began to tell me about the conversations between her and my father about that boyfriend. My old man was the type that went off the deep end about EVERYTHING. So, to console him, she said to my pops, "Don't worry about him, John, she will figure it out."

Then one night, I was fifteen years old and I was at my favorite Friday hang-out spot. It was a roller-skating rink of all places! I turned around and faced a face I had never seen, but knew I would see again. We both just looked at each other and that was it!

Weeks later, I found myself in that roller-rink parking lot with my old, much hated boyfriend near by. And he was watching me make out with the most beautiful man I had ever rested my eyes on. Also watching while I was blissfully unaware, was my very angry father.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see my father's face, mangled with rage. I just said, "Hi dad, this is Ben." Well, Ben is not who I was kissing. I don't think it really matters what his name was because his face was burned into my father's memory. I got into the truck and met my mother's eyes. She said nothing, while my father fumed.

When my parents found that "Ben" was in the army and was older than I by three and a half years, that was the last straw. I was not to see him again.

But my mother was all the wiser. She carries a Coast Gaurd photo to this day in her wallet and claims it as her favorite picture of my old man. She told me that the night she saw me kissing "Ben", she told my father "That's the one you have to worry about, John."

Seems that Mom and I both know that there is just something about a man in uniform. What I couldn't have guessed at that time, was that guy I now see as a boy, would grow up to be my Army man. And my father likes him very much...

The little engine that could...

Tonight is a reminder of many nights I've lived before. No amount of company can comfort me. No one else will do. I want to talk to the one person I can't and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Even more maddening, is that I know he is out there wanting me too.

I knew there would be nights like this. I also knew that above anything else, these nights make my heart ache the worst. I can deal with sleeping and eating alone. I can deal with car problems, cleaning the house, paying the bills, lugging the groceries in and the trash out, taking the kid to the doctor and disciplining, parenting all alone. I can deflect the sexual harassment and turn down the tempting. I can think outside the box and try to think like my husband would. I can keep up with the in laws and stay away from outlaws. I can, I can, and I can. And I do, and I do it all by myself. I do it all alone.

Then there are nights like these. When I don't care about what I can, and I can, and I can because I think if I don't talk to that man, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

But I have to take it.

Everyday I take it.

All day I take it.

And it feels like the army shoves it up my ass.

And they can, and they can, and they can.

A favorite song...

Artist:
The hush sound
Song:
You Are The Moon
Album:
Like Vines

shadows all around you as you surface from the dark
emerging from the gentle grip of night's unfolding arms
darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
the subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone

you don't see what you possess,
a beauty calm and clear
it floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
all the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas
the shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

i will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact
so precise and so pristine,
a perfect pane of glass
i will set the mirror up
to face the blackened sky
you will see your beauty every morning that you rise

The Girl Scout Cookie Grin

Another poem I wrote sometime in February...



It is once again
That evil time of year
When the little grade school girlies
Grin from ear to ear

They stand armed and ready
Outside every retail store
Or sometimes behind soccer mommies’ mini vans
Grabbing all people’s money
With their cute, greedy little hands

Well I’m on to all of them!
I’ve figured them out.
With their tiny dimples, their uniforms and braids
They make people feel ashamed
As they walk by trying to avoid their gaze
These little girls are masters of their trades!
I’d even venture to say
That it is their intention
To ruin people’s New Year’s resolutions
And if it were up to me
I’d make it against the constitution

Oh these little demon girls are smart
I’ll give you an example, to start
Written on each box of cookies
It says, “Girls Scouts, courage, confidence, character.”
And these girls have all those for sure

The cookies come in colorful boxes
With many a variety
They say if you buy them it will even build a better community
So despite the terrible cost
It can be difficult not to buy just one box

And that’s when they have you!
Because you can’t hardly wait
To tear open the box of
Green, purple, orange, yellow or blue
This is the moment
You realize the Girl Scout’s true hue
Because you pull out those cookies
To find only a maddening few!

But your money was already spent
And there are those damn cookies in your hands
Making you forget about Lent

So you open your mouth
And in one bite, they all go in
And upon eating them
You close your eyes
And smile the Girl Scout cookie grin

But just like that box of cookies
The moment was short
Leaving your stomach still empty
As you march to the ATM with a snort
Then, back out into the cold wind you trudge
Looking for more of those Girl Scouts
With the cookies of fudge
And when you find them again
They are smarter yet, this time you see
Because they’ve banded together
And it’s more like two or three!
All smiling the Girl Scout Cookie Grin
And laughing with adorable glee
They even do it in unison
As they stash away all of your money

To make matters worse
Once they’ve got you addicted
All of those Girl Scouts disappear
Making you wonder if they ever existed

So for a whole year
You are left to crave those delicious, expensive cookies
Until the cycle begins again
So once more
You will experience the fix
Of the Girl Scout Cookie Grin

Eve in the Garden of Temptation

I wrote this poem shortly before Michael left...

Now is my moment
To be candid and open
Revealing the feelings
I feel in silent moments

I am shaking and scared
To read the 2 cents I have to spare
So please, all beware
It’s of temptation I speak
If you care

It is difficult at least
To share this very piece
For it is a battle I am constantly fighting
And when I thought I’d conquered
It somehow comes back to find me
No peace, won’t cease to release me

Sometimes I feel like Adam’s sweet Eve
In a sparkling garden of eternity
Juicy temptation fruit hanging by tree
Awaiting only one chance to deceive me
Promising bounty, beauty and sheer ecstasy
It even sneaks up innocently
It preys on me

My Adam is a soldier, always away training
And as I go on with this reality
It really pains me
Furthermore, I know that soon
My dear Adam will be leaving
With the rest of his weary platoon
And I will be amidst my teary monsoon

And all the bliss slips away
And all I seem to remember
Are the bitter memories from my marital garden
Married more now to a voice on the phone
Eve’s Adam she’d once known
She knows now, more and more

As Adam and the memory of his love
Drift slowly away
Temptation finds its way
Comes back again to play
While poor Eve moves on
With the damn day to day
And toils to keep her guilty thoughts at bay

Temptation comes in many a disguise
Unknowingly, innocent or even armed with lies
A man friend that listens
Becomes overcome by his visions
One day makes a decision
To extend the heart of his forbidden fruit
Oh the truth, I won’t dilute

For Eve is truly of God’s creation
Made of bone and flesh and mind
That craves stimulation
And DAMIT!
Once in a while
Pure unadulterated elation

I’ll continue because there is more
Eve knows that she is beautiful
And sometimes enjoys it
When their eyes, they stare at her
And she is aware as those eyes linger
From her long hair, her figure to the floor

I have said this before
But temptation comes in many a form
The lonely will find the lonely
Just as God’s children are weak-
Indulgently, morally and consciously torn

The more I read this
The more that I am forlorn
Because I know that
From even the heavenly beauty
Of the Garden of Eternity
That all evil and temptation
Was by Eve’s decision born

It is easier I believe
To blame these feelings of temptation on her
It was EVE! It was SHE!
But alas, IT WAS ME

You’d think by now
After unleashing all these truths
I’d feel free
But not yet-
Because it is my responsibility
To pay all credit to Eve directly

For she was the first to be seduced
By the promises of forbidden fruits

And in those moments
When the fruits of temptation she tasted
Became the very rotting beauty
She carelessly wasted

She couldn’t have guessed
That her story would someday save me
From temptation’s evil stray
And furthermore remind me
That the unrelenting, tempting eyes that stare
Really only make me feel more naked
Than poor Eve was that fateful day
And in my marital garden
I will happily stay.

Ohhhh. So Spicy!

Have you ever been listening to the radio and happened apon one of those radio commercials for Male Sexual Performance Enhancement Pills? In case you haven't I'll give you a little into into the way such a thing would play out.

A woman is speaking in one of those saucy porno voices. And she purrs..."Do you have a problem with Premature Ejaculation?" And the commercial goes on growing more and more hideous each second it is on the air.

Well take that woman's voice, (I do a great impression by the way) and imagine the rest of this blog being read in that very slippery-seductive tone...

I am SPICY tonight! I have been awakened again by inspiration. I have new artistic adventures in the wake and they have put me n this devilish mood. Stevie Ray Vaughn's electric guitar is churning over and over again, overflowing through my computer speakers. I've got a Corona to share the night with along with my occasional Camel allowance. In the house even! I'm so naughty! The smoke curls out of my lips as I reminisce (I had to check the spelling of that on Dictionary.com) about past precious jewels. And I think of what is to come.

Lord help my husband if he were here now. We'd go to bed and stay for a loooooong time...

I am not vain.

"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequet. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that others won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us, it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconciously give other people permission to do the same. And as we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." -Marianne Williamson

It's Raining Today...

Outside it pours down like the tears inside me. Today I am down. The rain reminds me of Seattle. The color of the sky is that hazy, dismal gray that I miss so much. To some, it might sound silly to miss something that sounds so horrid. Especially because Seattle is like that starting in September and hardly letting up until June the next year. But that's just it. I grew up that way. I got used to it and it shaped me as a person. I appreciate those rainy days because they are a great excuse to be a homebody. Curling up in bed with a book and warm blankets, smelling the steamy tea beside you is what I yearn for after days in a row of sun and blue skies. I even sleep better when I can hear the rain smacking the pavement outside at night. It actually makes me tired no matter what time of day it is. Today is no exception.

But today I cannot blame only the rain for my lazy drooping eyes and dark circles. My dear daughter is sick. I can't figure out what's worse, freaking out about it and rushing her to the doctor at the slightest cough, or keeping my cool and waiting the cold out only to find that you really do need to take her to the doctor and then feeling guilty once you realize how sick she really is. Temp was 102.3 last night, she's coughing so much, neither of us caught any ZZZZZZ's and there's green goop coming from her nose and her eyes. Did I forget to mention the puking? It's days like this when I really wish Michael was here to help me with all of this. He would want to be here for his little girl. He would hold her in his big arms as she sleeps. I really wanted him to be around to clean up the corn dog and strawberry smoothie puke from all over our car the othernight too. She always gets sick when he is gone.

So out the door and to the doctor at 7:00 this mourning in the beautiful rain. We didn't even make it out of the doctor's office before I was pouring all that medicine down her gullet. She sleeps now, coughing less than before. She is so damn beautiful when she sleeps.

Photographs taken by me.