« December 2003 | Main | February 2004 »
I've found this through my visitor stats and have now seen it on others' blogs. I, however am still not sure how it works or what but.....Looking into it. By the way...does anyone know how I can get this damn link in the columns? I have a feeling it has something to do with redesigning my page.
sigh....
Nevermind. I got it. I was on the right track but evidently pasted the link in the wrong area. But it's fixed now.
I AM BACK FOLKS!!! Not that I really disappeared but my lovely computer is back. I love it. I love it. I love it. So, as I said Tim had to replace the motherboard and the hard drive. AND he installed a CDwriter as well. If nothing else, I'm ecstatic that I can actually move along the keyboard at my normal speed without the computer eating letters or freezing. I'm ecstatic that the pages load faster than a snail's crawl. CAN WE SAY HOORAH?!
And ladies and gentleman for this momentous occassion I would like to offer the following link as a celebratory gift. Be prepared that this site is too funny and can be best described as third grade humor. I was watching a few taped episodes of Unscrewed and was given this questionable site: PoopReport.com.
Emmaline, my Valentine is sick. She has bronchitis and tonsillitis. Does it sound familiar? The family that lives together gets sick together. I thought she would only have a cold when she got a slight cough at the beginning of this week. BUT last night she sounded like a 1000 lb male sea lion marking his territory. The cough was horrendous. And her tonsils, which are normally gigantic looked like inspiration for Roald Dahl's peach in James and the Giant Peach. My poor baby.
You would never know she's sick the way she was running around the Medical Center waiting to be seen in urgent care. She's such a nutter. Drama queen as she is, when she's sick....OH MY GOD!!! She is a riot.
I'm tired of the weather here. It has been alternating between 60-70 degrees and 30-40 degrees. It just can't be good for the body. The change in atmospheric moisture....no wonder bronchitis has hit this household hard this year. Today is a rainy, chilly day.
I got my hair cut today. Where it was at the middle of my back, the longest layer now ends at the nape of my neck. I haven't had it this short since Em was a toddler. It's an odd feeling. AND for the first time in my life, I got my hair thinned. I'm not too sure of that (too late now, huh?). For those who know me in person which is not many, I have ALOT of hair. Very thick and curly. So it become a mane when it grows out. The weight of my hair will pull out the curl and I will have a frizzed head. BUT....the hair is short. It's not a bad cut. I'll just have to grow accustomed to it.
The PC will be back in my little hands by the end of the week. Tim said that not only had my hard drive failed but he has to replace my motherboard also. Parts and labor will cost me a total of $130 which is not bad considering that I once took a tower (the one I'm using presently) to CompUSA and they fucked me for about $100 to look at and screwed it up worse than it originally was. SO...YAY! for Tim.
I also found out that I won a little contest put out by Free Spirit Publishing. The question in this month's newsletter was what do you do to re-inspire you to achieve your goals. I replied that journaling was my tool. It helps remind me of who I really am and what I want. Explained that Em had picked up the habit. Also mentioned that I was keeping an online journal and that the comments from others helped inspire me also. Well, they liked my entry and I get a book about setting goals and taking steps to achieve them. Yay! Free Spirit is an awesome company. My daughter's gifted teacher introduced me to it a couple of years ago.
Had a couple of online notes from some fabulous people. Few other good things happened today but nothing overwhelming fantastic to write about. Watching Amelie now.
I've been watching your world from afar,
I've been trying to be where you are,
And I've been secretly falling apart,
I see,
To me you're strange and you're beautiful.
You'd be so perfect with me, but you just can't see,
you turn every head, but you don't see me.
Chorus
I'll put a spell on you,
you fall asleep
I'll put a spell on you,
and when i wake you, I'll be the first thing you see.
and you'll realise that you love me.
yeah...yeah
sometimes the last thing you want comes in first,
sometimes the first thing you want never comes,
I know the waiting is all you can do,
sometimes,
(Chorus X2)
yeah...yeah...yeah
yeah
Take a look at my body
Look at my hands
There's so much here that I don't understand
Your face say these promises
Whispered like prayers
I don't need them
Because I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable
Well, content loves the silence
It thrives in the dark
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart
They say that promises sweeten the blow
But I don't need them, no
I don't need them
I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable
I'm the slow dying flower
In the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour anduntouchable
Oh, I need the darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
I need a lullaby
A kiss good night
Angel sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
I'm the slow dying flower
In the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour anduntouchable
Do you remember the way that you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness I loved and adored
Your face saying promised whispered like prayers
I don't need them
Oh, I need the darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
I need a lullaby
A kiss good night
Angel sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
Well is it dark enough
Can you see me
Do you want me
Can you reach me
Oh, I'm leaving
You better shut your mouth
And hold your breath
And kiss me now
And catch your death
Oh, I mean this
Oh, I mean this
On Tuesday, Tim will be looking at my computer. YAY!!! He said that he's going to try to save my hard drive...if at all possible. If not, new hard drive and such. I AM SO VERY HAPPY!!! I've had to wait until tax money came back (which it did) and so I will be up and running at my normal speed. I'll have my Photoshop back and my Publisher and my... my... my... other stuff.
YAY!!! YAY!!!
Thank you, Ivette for this little site. Vagabond is only 37% evil (sorry, Ivette) BUT lo and behold....the Medical Center Clinic is 93% evil. What can I say? Honestly, what can I say?! hehehehe
This is not a new story unfortunately but as much attention that can be brought to it, the better. Children especially girls are being sold as sex slaves in impoverished countries like Cambodia. Dateline did a special on it tonight and I don't know what to say. I've read and seen things about this horrendous trade but it still makes me ill each and every time. What is as disgusting as the Cambodians enslaving and selling their own children...girls as young as five years old...in brothels are the Americans that travel abroad for these sex tours. It is sickening!! Our children have such advantages just being born American that children in Cambodia, Thailand, the Philippines, Afghanistan, Saudia Arabia and other countires do not have.
Thinking I should be a lesbian. Yes, I'm joking. But my reasoning is that men and women tend to have difficulties communicating. And yes, I know I'm lump summing there. Forgive me that. I know there are exceptions and I know that it depends really on how assertive each person is. But...let's just go along with my crazy "what the hell you talkin bout" tangent for a moment.
Why is it so difficult for two people to talk to each other honestly? Women do it with each other. We talk frankly about our bodies, partners, children, sex, feelings, jobs, and everything else we get going on. And although men have a different language with each other, I think they still have frank conversations with each other about anything and everything. So, what's the problem with a man and a woman?
I have good open conversations with men but sometimes something happens somewhere in there when I'm not looking. Either I get a vibe from him that he's thinking entirely too much about what's going on here or that he thinks I'm thinking entirely too much about the depth of our "thing." And perhaps because there's the added tension of animal instinct to partner up, we suddenly become timid and fearful of expressing ourselves. EVEN IF there's no actual attraction, stunned and stupified, we stop being real.
Perhaps it's my fault. I'll accept blame. I mean I do have a tendency to be too open, too touchy-feely, too dedicated to people. So, could be my fault. I flirt when I don't know it. I listen because I really want to know what a person is saying. I embrace the person I'm with. I guess it's like sex or a love affair for those moments that a conversation lasts. The attention, the give and take, the satisfaction. So, perhaps it's my fault when things go all wonky.
It's happened before. I've been given the "just friends" talk when I didn't expect it. I wasn't even attracted to the guy other than friendship. It confused me when it happened.
And when I am attracted to someone? God, that's just a pain in the ass. The signals don't work or something is not going the right way.
IT'S TOO DAMN HARD TO BE FRIENDS WITH MEN!!! I didn't think so but perhaps I was naive and I'm continuously getting bit in the ass for that.
I don't think I have problems being friends with men. I don't think I have difficulty talking to them. I don't see myself as trying to be one way or another in a conversation other than Naomi. Honesty, frankness, humor, intelligence, and a brevy of other things to keep a chat going. SO WHAT THE HELL IS THE PROBLEM?!
I know I'm not the only one going through this. I KNOW other people are stuck trying to figure out why he or she is acting all fucked up suddenly. Or why words and emotions are hard to get out. I mean, hell!
I know I'm not making any sense. It's something I'll have to talk about to Carrie. I can completely unload to her.
I wish I had my good computer up and running along with my scanner. I want to share some of my artwork...don't get excited, I'm not good. HOWEVER, a couple of friends have decided that my little doodles are good enough for me to do some henna tattooing on their bodies. We're going to plan a night in the next couple of weeks with wine, dinner, and mehndi.
I'm excited. I think it should be fun. I was thinking if I do a decent job with it, there is some money in henna especially in a beach town like Pcola. BUT...I'm just thinking.
Thought I'd share with you. Enjoy....
Spirit Vision Henna Tattoo
History of Henna Tattoo
Rupal Pinto Mehndi
Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step. -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
A minister of nonviolence. A practioneer of peace. A leader of people. A hero of civil rights.
If any of Dr. King's words should ring true in your life, perhaps the above should be those. He challenged society's norms and laws which embraced bigotry, violence, and inequality. In his actions and words, he took steps to produce better relations between cultures, men, and politicians. And despite his short time on earth, he laid a foundation for other people and future generations.
Symbolically, Dr. King was a step for the civil rights. He saw the oppression of the past and the violence of the present, and he anticipated the promise of the future. He took one step and a country was changed.
Whether you and I have causes that are as culturally, governmentally, and economically influential or that are emotionally private; we need to take the first step. Decide within ourselves to break bonds that keep us down. May our bonds be fear, poverty, illness, relationship, abuse; one step is all that needs to be taken. A step seen as a single entity upon itself. And when that step has been conquered, move on to the next step. And so on and so on until you've reached that landing at the top.
When I lived in Memphis, Carrie and I visited The Lorraine Motel where Dr. King was assassinated. If you visit, be prepared for an emotionally charged tour with graphic photos. There was a moving sculpture in the lobby. It depicts hundreds of black men, women, and children walking along a moutainous path towards the top. You see groups of people moving steadily along towards the dream Dr. King spoke of in I Have A Dream. But if you look at each person as an individual, you see someone who had to decide that enough was enough. Within their souls they questioned the immorality of segregation along with the fear of opposing it. And they had to decide to make a change.
When I first saw the sculpture, I never knew of the quote above. But sitting here writing this, I can recall the artwork very well with those words in mind. And I applaud in joy at those people at the very bottom of the mountain. They took one step. That's all that is needed for a change. One step to start you on a journey towards a better life and a freed spirit. And the first step is the hardest. It's done in fear and anxiety but also in strength and unknown courage. It's done with a drive that is inexplicable because one knows how difficult the walk will be with missteps, loose footings, and sometimes no rest. And despite all the hurdles...and probably because of the hurdles...they still took the first step.
Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.
My lungs hurt from the old man cough that I've got. Ears are cloggy. Nose alternates between running like Niagra Falls and being a green olive stuffed with a pimento. Throat is still swollen. Ears are plugged. Neck and shoulders intensely ache and need a good rub.
My companions are amoxicillin, benzonatate (wonderful little gel caps that are a cough suppressant) Vicks (or generic thereof), Halls, and Kleenex, and a heating pad.
I want to be mothered. Someone to come and make me some chicken soup or a nice wedding soup (yum, wedding soup with meatballs, spinach, noodles, spices....) Stroke my forehead until I fall asleep. All those little lovelies. mmmmmmm
Hold me close and hold me fast
the magic spell you cast
this is la vie en rose
when you kiss me heaven sighs
and tho I close my eyes
I see La vie en rose.
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
a world where roses bloom
and when you speak, angels sing from above
everyday words seem to turn into love songs
give your heart and soul to me
and life will always be La vie en rose.
Wasting time as usual on the internet. Love clicking on a link in a friend's site and finding myself in another . And from there I found something I think I will be hopping to on a regular basis.
With a few exceptions, most women have been programmed from their girlhood days of Disney movies like Cinderella to their young womanhood days of prom and winterfests. And because of this indiscernible, very Pavlovian induction into society, we women tend to have this car accident, rubbernecking response to wedding dresses. Even some of the strongest feminists tend to wither at the thought of their wedding day and THE dress. Sort of sets the women's movement back 50 years, doesn't it?!
And with the launchpad help of Beancounter Daydreams I have discovered The Ugliest Wedding Dress of the Day. Whitney's humor is laughing out loud-man, I was thinking the same thing.
Enjoy, people.
Well, I was doing well with the work week. I was almost there with a 40hr week...then I got sick again. I started feeling tired...more tired than I should have felt...yesterday. I thought it was because of a mood change, calming down from the upswing. But this morning I woke up with yet another swollen throat. I had two different headaches. How is that possible, you ask? Well, I had a sinus headache which is along my cheek and in my nasal cavity. AND I had a migraine which is always in my right eye, above the brow and going into the right top portion of my skull. Also have that cough that radiates from a scratchy itchy swollen throat. AND...the horrendous nausea that causes me to vomit on an empty stomach...aren't I just a beauty queen? hehehe
I'm home sick feeling like crap for two reasons: 1) my body is being mutinous and 2) i'm out of work today and I have to take Monday off because my daughter is out of school which reduces my paycheck again by 16 hours.
Will some rich person adopt me? Does anyone want to be my sugar daddy?
Anyone? Hello?
...it's suddenly very quiet in here.
I have an absent-minded fascination with pockets. Like other people, I'm not aware of my hands sliding into the front pockets of my pants, jean skirt, or hooded sweater. I don't realize until I'm suddenly wide awake conscious of my fingers hooked into the corners of my back pockets. But I love pockets.
When I was a child, my father would yell at me when he would find me walking around with my hands in my pockets. To this day, I still don't understand why I had to listen to his five minute rant about my incessant need to have my hands in my pocket. And when I was young, I was terribly self-conscious of trying to keep from hiding my hands in the warmth of those sewn heavens.
Angry fists can be restrained by pockets. A thin layer of material reminding me to calm down, think about my next moment...lessen the claw tight in my pocket, in my heart. Winter days bitterly biting my skin. My face is freezing and my toes are shivering, but my hands have burrowed down in the pockets of my coat like the groundhog hiding from Jack Frost. Memories of being three walking beside my grandfather and trying to share his pockets.
To people close enough to see me in my weakest moments, I've described my wounded self like this. I'm walking along carrying something in my pocket. Something I don't even know I have. Something that I don't even know what it is. But it's something extremely important in the existence of my life. I'm walking along, going about my life when suddenly I discover it's gone. Perhaps there's a hole in my pocket. Perhaps it just climbed its way to the rim of my pocket as things do and it fell out. But now it's gone. And I'm frantic. I can't go on without placing it back in my pocket. But what is it? Where did it fall out? When did I lose it? I've walked 1000s of steps and it could be anywhere along the way. And I still don't know what it is. And I can't go on until it's back in my pocket and I've grown unconscious of it again. It will be when it's safely in pocket that I will be ok.
Perhaps that's the fascination. Or perhaps it's likening pockets to this mini womb where I'm safe and warm and shielded against the scary unknown.
Or perhaps a pocket is just a pocket.
I read my horoscope on a sporadic regular basis which means I read it but it's not a daily thing. And just for information sake, I'm a Scorpio which I've been told is an awesome thing because Scorpios are the dominant sign of astrology...whether it's true in Vedic astrology or not, I'm not sure.
I don't like to say that any one thing in life is true when it comes to people's spirituality because honestly, spritituality is a very personal thing. No two are alike. It's impossible because spirituality is a unique relationship with whatever omnipotent deity is believed to be in power. And well, despite what skeptics say astrology falls into the realms of religion and spirituality.
Having said that...and I think there may have been an organized point somewhere in there...there is a similar thread that runs through all of us. It's this need for equilibrium in life, death, creation, God. We all want a sense of peace and understanding in ourselves and why things happen. So, we seek out religion to help explore and express that innate spirituality. Whether you subscribe to fundamental Christianity, Hasidic Judaism, Vedic astrology, The I Ching, some form of animism, Freudian psychology or the scraps of paper stuffed in a fortune cookie with Saturday's Chinese takeout; there are nuggets of wisdom to be dug out and applied to daily life. And what skeptics of any religion will always dismiss as coincidence, those nuggets seem to come at the most opportune moments.
So...I want to share my daily horoscope from Yahoo Astrology dated today.
Do not automatically think that beauty always has to be defined by old-fashioned standards, Naomi. It is time to set your own definition. There is no need to squeeze yourself into some socially constructed mold that doesn't resonate with who you truly are. Your job is not to try and make sure that everyone loves you. There is only one person you need to satisfy, and that is yourself.
Readers of Planetthoughtful know about The Mirror Project already. Murray's an avid photographer (and pretty good with a camera, if I must say so) and his entry about this site caught my eye. Visitors are invited to submit photos, self-portraits in an essence, with the underlying theme that a reflective surface be used. The project has spanned approximately five years and includes literally 1000s of pictures. You can start at the beginning, pick a random shot, or do a search. And yes, Murray has a couple in there. So, borrowing from Murray (thank you, sir) I'm going to reintroduce it to the familiars and initiate the novices.
Behold....The Mirror Project
I went to bed at 5 am Sunday morning. I'm up late again tonight. The late nights are becoming more frequent. Not terribly depressed. Not extremely agitated. Sort of flowing between one emotion and another. I see Michelle, my therapist at 7pm tonight (it is Monday now, right?)
I'm pretty sure the fight with my mother was a catalyst for this last period of change. That and the ever ominous presence of poorhood. I'm feeling up so I'm going to just enjoy it.
I'm hoping I can make it through this week of work without missing a day. I'd say wish me luck but I don't believe in luck. Let's just say, I will make it through a 5-day workweek and if it doesn't happen, we'll take it from there.
Sort of forcing this entry because I don't want people to worry that I've disappeared. I do want to share what's going on in my head and heart but honestly, it gets tiring talking to myself...and frankly, journaling is pretty much talking to myself. So, "I'm fine. I'm not suicidal. I'm lonely. I'm sad. I'm happy. I'm angry....sigh, I'm Naomi."
frustration at my unsurmountables
aggravation at my misdirection
palpitations at my stresses
lack of motivation at my dilemmas
(from 082103)
Peel away my fat.
Tear down my walls.
Rinse off the blahness.
Dig away the layers.
Uncover the mounds.
…And I am nothing.
(from 091503)
Upon waking from my cruel slumber, I discovered the world had not changed.
My self-induced coma had not erased the injustices among men.
I had done more harm to my psyche by withdrawing from the physical realm.
Dreams of perfection had clouded my mind’s eye and had only produced disappointment.
The inner sanctum of my self commanded me to attention.
Realize the world is not fair, it shouted. And make order of its chaos.
And who was I to argue?
(from 103003)
I don't know what is missing inside of me that everyone else seems to have. There must be this gene that determines if a person will be a functioning adult who contributes fathoms to society and I was just out of luck when it was passed out. Yes, it sounds like I'm whining...but godamnit, it's all I've got right now.
How frustrating it is to fail every day. Yes, I'm remembering my resolution. Don't you think I hear my own words echoing inside of me? Don't you think I know that I should take those to heart? Why the fuck do you think I'm complaining? How much does a person take before she actually lies down and says, "Ok, big massive steamroller called life.....run me over!!!"
Sleeping is so easy right now. WAY TOO EASY. I woke up yesterday, took Em to school, went back home, and fell asleep. That was about 7:30 am. I didn't wake up until 4:30 pm. So much nicer to sleep.
In dreams, I fight for myself. In dreams, I have the love of people I desperately want. In dreams, I function.
But in reality....forget it.
I'm angry, depressed, paranoid, lonely, ugly, late, apathetic, quiet, sullen, reclusive, weepy, unforgiving, jealous, lost...non-functioning.
I hate when people say that I was doing so well. YEAH, SO WHAT?! That was then...this is now. Don't you think that if I could have held onto that moment, I sure the fuck wouldn't have?! HELLO?! And do they think that I actually say, "Hmmm. What do I feel like today? Happy or sad? Gregarious or withdrawn?" Like I'm picking out a wardrobe or something from the menu.
I'm going to say it again....I wish I had debilitating physical disease. Would you dare say to me, "Get the fuck up, you cripple! There's nothing wrong with your spine." I dare any one of you to say it to Superman! I FUCKING DARE YOU!!!! No, not my life. I get this stupid asinine idiotic disease. AND YES!!! I'M GOING TO FUCKING WHINE ABOUT IT!!!!
I mean what has working hard done for me? Where has it gotten me? Same place that whining would have. No money. Fat ugly body. No support. Butt load of bills. AND I'M STILL NOT FIXED!!!! So, fuck it. FUCK IT ALL!!!!
I'm tired. I really am. I hate everyone. I hate everything. I hate God. I hate me. I'm tired. I feel like destroying what little I have just to finish the job completely. I'm tired of this dragging it out shit. We're kinder to our pets in their debilitating illnesses. We know when to let them go. We put them out of their misery. BUT ME?! NO, LET'S REALLY STICK IT TO NAOMI!
Let me ask one question: What did I do in this world that deserved this much punishment? Perhaps a previous life. Perhaps I was as evil as the infamous evil that destroyed thousands of lives.
God, I hate you so much yet I ask for your help every moment of my life. Spirituality is a crutch. Love is a crutch. Emotions are crutches. I want to feel nothing. I want to simply not be. And what makes me angry is that it won't happen.
Damn!
I talked to my sister tonight. I adore my sister tremendously and in my relationships with my family members the bond between Jenn and I is the best thing I've got. I love my brother too but we're not as close as my sis and I are.
I am the oldest of us, three and very early in life I was held responsible for my younger siblings. My parents left us alone at night when we were little and I had no time to be afraid of the dark when I was caring for a sister three years younger and a brother four years younger than me. I was responsible for their good behavior and punished for their bad. Things like that tend to make a child feel overly-responsible for everyone and everything.
Now as adults, I feel I've not stepped up to bat for Jenn. She's married with two boys and she works hard in life. And when she struggles, I feel I should come to the rescue as a big sister. That I should be there to support her in her daily life. Yet, she spends more time listening to my problems, my emotions, my needs. I feel we've switched places and I feel unsettled about it.
When we were small and on my parents' regular times out, we were so frightened of being home alone. We would lay there in the bed trying to keep our hands and feet from dangling over the side in case the Boogie Man was under there. I would comfort her by singing as many songs as I could until we fell asleep.
I know relationships are two way streets. Give and take on both sides. I just feel responsible for my sister and brother. I want to make sure they are safe and happy and content.
Shoes on the glossy floor click slowly and thoughtfully, her steps meaningful and worried. She regrets this walk with self-loathing. Yesterday was tiring from the celebration. But today…
The news of his happiness weighed her down. Her body was heavy with sorrow.
How did I manipulate myself? click click How did I weaken? click…click Was I deaf to my own shouting?
She stops before the guilt-laden door. Behind the smooth wood and shiny brass knobs, he sits. She feels the heated smile that fills his face, and she moans.
“I’m going to release this,” she whispers cowardly.
“It will end,” she encourages herself.
Her shaking hand stretches out; and with forced determination, she opens the door.
(from 103003)
Every day I try to convince myself of that. If I hit rock bottom, at least I have solid ground to stand on. There's a reason for everything. What I want and what I need are two entirely different things.
sigh...
That last one is far too difficult to convince myself of because what I want is really not grand things. If you've ever studied psychology or just ever been interested in learning, you'll remember a key theory: Maslow's hierarchy of needs.
Abraham Maslow said that man's needs were broken down into five different levels on a pyramid. From the foundation and going up, we have physiological, safety, love, esteem, and self-actualization. Each level's needs have to be satisfied in order for a person to healthily move to the next level. If not, then the person's development is retarded; and well, he or she is stuck trying to fulfill that's level's needs.
I'm stuck at the moment at the basic level because some of my fundamental needs aren't being met sufficiently. And because I'm trying to move on and be a parent to my child and provide for her needs, things are just really fucked up in me.
Therapist, friends, family, and even little ol' me are trying to tell Naomi that she needs to find happiness and participate in life. Get out there and take part in the things she loves whether it's writing, dating, or kite-flying. But she can't! How can love, esteem and self-actualization be addressed when I can't even friggin keep groceries in my house, keep my utilities paid for, get my damn abscessed tooth pulled, pay for daycare, work consistently, get my tags renewed and a whole host of other shit I'm failing at?!
I have a religious co-worker who worked in a shelter in Las Vegas years ago. She made a point a few months ago. Basically, she said that there was no sense in trying to convert a person to Christianity and teach him about God's love when his stomach is rumbling, his clothes are tattered, and his bed is a concrete stoop.
My mother is right. I'm no fucking good! I'm failing at providing the simplest of needs and so why should I feel good about myself. Why should I feel entitled to love, happiness or anything of joy?
BUT THERE'S NOWHERE TO GO BUT UP!!!!
I saw Toby sing this one with only an acoustic guitar on a daytime talkshow and thought it absolutely splendid. Had me all wishy-washy on how we should see the world, dontcha think?!
I Love This Bar by Toby Keith
We got winners,
We got losers,
Chain-smokers and boozers,
We got yuppies,
We got bikers,
We got thirsty hitch-hikers,
And the girls next store dress-up like movie stars.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
We got cowboys,
We got truckers,
Broken-hearted fools and suckers,
And we got hustlers,
We got fighters,
Early-birds and all-nighters,
And the veterans talk about their battle scars.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
I love this bar,
It's my kind of place,
Just walkin through the front door,
Puts a big smile on my face,
It ain't too far,
Come as your are.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
I've seen short skirts,
We've got high-techs,
Blue-collared boys and rednecks,
And we got lovers,
Lots of lookers,
I've even seen dancing girls and hookers.
And we like to drink our beer from a mason jar.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar. (Yes I do)
Toby: I like my truck.
Crowd: I like my truck.
Toby: And I like my girlfriend.
Crowd: I like my girlfriend.
Toby: I like to take her out to dinner, I like a movie now and then.
But I love this bar,
It's my kind of place,
Just toein around the dance floor,
Puts a big smile on my face,
No cover charge,
Come as you are.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I love this bar.
Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, Hmmm, I just love this old bar.
I have a mind full of thoughts and can't seem to grab any of them to express. Ever want someone to just be silent with? Whenever you have those moments when the thoughts and feelings are overflowing and overwhelming that you find yourself spinning around trying to take them all in and all you want is that someone who looks at you with silent strong understanding? When you feel you are about to scream out in tongues but when you open your mouth, your tongue falls heavy in your mouth; but that someone nods at you with empathic frustration?
I want that someone.
Ok...I freely admit that I have a relationship with computers that resemble borderline personality disorder. I had this beautiful rant about computers, timed pressure with my singing of Billy Joel's Pressure and Queen/David Bowie's Under Pressure, the public library's computer lab with its sexually ambiguous guy, freezing hands and witch's tits (don't ask me, it's gone) and so much more when suddenly the things go wonky. The damn computer froze and the way things are set up here, you just can't bring up the task list and end the corrupting fiends. NO!! You have to log off. SO, now I'm exhausted and frankly....too pissed to try and recover what was said. DAMN YOU, COMPUTER GODS!!!
I don't know how Edna St. Vincent Millay did it. She had a book of her poetry almost complete when she lost the manuscript in a fire. She recovered it all from her memory and set it to paper intact. Not me...no way.
Thus the Glenn Close Fatal Attraction relationship with computers. I rely so much on my computer and when it's down, I get this sick panicky feeling in my stomach and throat. I hate my damn need for my computer. I hate it but I need it so. I know I'm not the only one who suffers like this.
You sit there reading this and KNOW that feeling. When you've worked so hard on a page or a document. For the most part, you were saving. You were being good and diligent and saving frequently. But that last time you didn't and then BAM! The computer gods laugh at you. They test you like God did with Job and it's gone. All your work. Frozen computer. Failing drive. Lost document. Accidental erase. Are you going to curse them or beg and plead?! I forget to breathe. I cuss. I drop my head with resignation on the desk and sob.
My heart, full of fire,
charged forward upset with desire
to know a difference;
to see a change;
from this misery and path of pain.
I left unknowingly
this old worn path,
to follow blindly
this strange wrath.
So wrought with happiness and loving peace,
how quickly my footsteps felt at ease.
I hurried onward towards my call
every moment tearing down my wall,
that I had built to protect my soul;
but now felt like a heavy woe.
Instinctively I knew I'd reach
my goal, my life, my eternal me.
The bridge between the end and here
was rough and long but I knew no fear.
It was fear that had kept me from this
straight and simple path.
And that had led me down
a self destructive track.
But with every solid footstep
that drew me near and near,
I gladly forgot the hate that
every day I'd hear.
No more screaming lies
thrown happily at my face.
No more wounding pain
to eagerly embrace.
At the end was true love
that I no longer deny.
At the end, my soul renewed is
my savior, God on High.
(from 012101)
Rowing against the winds,
my boat of emotions are heavy to manuever.
My arms struggle with the oars of logic and reason;
pushing the waters of intuition away.
My speed, though cumbersome to maintain,
is constant as I break through the currents of life.
Always upstream I seem to be moving,
never considering the downward flow easier.
I know that if my small craft I call my body, my boat,
should venture the easy stream down then
I shall find myself falling fast over thunderous falls.
So push and pull I go,
moving upstream towards safety and solidness
...and God.
(from 041601)
I just spent an hour copying my comments from my AOL journal here. What a pain in the booty! But that will be the last of that place. Just need to close the AOL account all together and be rid of it. Can I get an AMEN?!
New beautiful man in picture today. Completely unexpected and what’s even more lovely is that he will be regular eye candy. Steph has a new co-worker at the clinic café and he is nice-looking. And from the small amount of conversation I’ve had with him so far, he’s fun. BUT downside…he’s only 22. Yikes! So, eye candy it is. Maybe a little banter but that is all. So sad…so very sad. I like my men older than that. As my daughter likes to say, “You like to date guys who are olllllld. Ancient…like 30!”
Hold on folks, let me lift my sagging boobs and put a heating pad on my arthritic hip before I continue.
And now the weekend has come which means I will be without computer for TWO DAYS. I’m planning on scheduling time at the library’s computers but after your hour is up and someone is waiting, you’re booted off. I hate being timed. It puts a crimp in my style. And then you have to actually leave…and go home…without a computer.
It looks like I’ll be without computer for a while because I have NO FRIGGIN MONEY to pay for repairs. I’m afraid of just buying a hard drive and replacing it myself because well, it scares me. And I can’t even do that because have I mentioned I have NO FRIGGIN MONEY?! So, it looks like tax return time will help pay for repairs…that’s if the government doesn’t decide this is the year they are going to get serious about those student loans I owe money on and seize my federal tax return. I hate being poor. We could get into the “You’re so poor jokes…” but I’ll spare us all from that one.
Let’s see…hmmm, what else? Oh, I’ve forgotten the highly erotic dreams that have been plaguing me this last week. Those are beautiful and love them except when I actually have to wake up. Waking up feeling…ahem…aroused is not a good way to start the day. And then carrying that feeling throughout the day with no sign of release…with another person, mind you…is frustrating as hell. If I could just find a fuck buddy, I would be sooooo happy. I promised myself to not have sex until I could get that commitment relationship but hell, this abstinence thing is KILLING ME! But, I’m waiting…chewing the insides of my cheeks raw…but waiting.
By the way, have I mentioned that I’ve had a shift in emotion today? Woke up depressed. Oh, fucking great! Then spent the day in an ok mood. Nothing too terribly bad but still can sense a feeling of loss coming on. I think the money problems are a big play today. That and other issues which I just don’t want to delve into right now.
So many things on my mind. So many things. If you want juicy details, you’re not going to get squat….unless….no, never mind. Hmmm.
I want a steak.
Recent Comments