Just a drive-by this time...

Having recently gone down LiVEwiRe's Memory Lane, I found another tidbit to add. This was a report for an English class a number of years ago (1998 I think) when I went back to school as an adult for the first time. This is just a paper from that time; a simple drive-by as opposed to another full walk. Most of you will be able to identify with the point.

Do We Covet What We See?

She is the epitome of content. She has the ability to block out the world without even trying. Although my cat Tahiti has been with me for the past eleven and a half years, I suppose I've never given her catnaps much thought. Until today. As I sit here watching her, she seems so relaxed, yet so completely in control. Her back curves slightly, forming a gentle arch that seems to come naturally. All four paws lay stretched out before her, displaying tufts of white fur that peek out from between her toes like tiny feather dusters. The warm gold-green glow of her eyes is now masked by leaden eyelids. Deep, slow breathing is the only noticeable activity from the couch cushion on which she is draped.

When I returned home from work at the veterinary clinic earlier today, I knew I needed to unwind. I had to find a way to mentally escape the day I had just endured. My day had been flooded with demanding clients, ill patients, inept co-workers, and a fiercely impatient boss. It was the kind of day that supported the slogan, "Calgon, take me away." So there I sat, enveloped in comfortable gray sweats, trying to relax, but failing miserably. Grasping the remote control, I surfed the television stations; no luck. Stretching out on the loveseat, I began to read the latest novel I had purchased; no luck. Deciding that perhaps a nap would help, I repositioned myself on the loveseat and gave it a try. Once again, no luck.

My mind wandered, recapping the day's events, and I noticed the stress building in my shoulders, neck and jaws: all of the ingredients to make the perfect tension headache. As I lay there wondering what else I could possibly do to cleanse myself of this day, my focus turned to Tahiti. Her sense of peace echoed that of only the most devoted Tibetan monks. If only I could experience that level of tranquility, even for a brief moment. I found myself watching her with an almost wistful gaze. What would it be like to obtain that sense of equanimity? How can one banish all of their cares? Who could be so totally serene while being fully reliant on another?

I began to think if what life may be like if I lived it Tahiti-style.

To begin with, I would take full advantage of the absence of alarm clocks, ignoring the sunrise and disregarding the sunset, waking and sleeping when I felt so inclined.

Luscious meals of the highest quality would always be provided in my own personal dish at practical intervals. Sumptuous morsels of tuna, salmon, and turkey would be mine for the taking. No more grocery lists, meal preparation, or post-meal cleanup; I'd only need to show up for victuals and nosh accordingly. This could even provide an opportunity for proper meal structure, possibly leading to a more fit physical being. How wonderful!

Money would no longer be of any consequences. All of my material needs such as food, shelter, health care, entertainment, and exercise activity would be appointed to my person, whom I'm sure would supply me with the best of everything. No more loan payments, rent checks, car insurance, or investments to be concerned with. What a new feeling that would be!

Never again would I be faced with the dilemma of what to wear. My permanent outfit would always be in style regardless of the season or the latest trends.

With great joy, the realization hit me with the force of a wrecking ball demolishing a frail, intricate ice sculpture. I would no longer have to participate in the often self-defeating competition we call employment. The thought was almost overwhelming. Gone would be the insatiable, perfectionist employer that is unyielding to the basic requests and feelings of his employees, Gone would be the unending task of attempting to train new employees that are no brighter than a brittle twig in winter. The chore of educating clients who have absolutely no intention of putting to use the suggestions and information I have worked so hard to compile would be on its way to extinction.

In my journeys, I'd never be at a loss for words. For any dealings with others, I'd always have the responses: meowing, chattering, purring, growling, hissing and spitting. It's a universal language after all, which brings me to the flawless unspoken language. With a flick of my tail or the unsheathing of claws, my point could always be made clearly and concisely.

A feeling of independence could surround my daily rituals. The comfort of knowing I was lovingly cared for and needn't concern myself with life's little inconviences would be a welcome change. A change that could grant freedom. A change I would welcome.

So as I lay here pondering my newly invented fantasy, I began to notice that my recipe for a tension headache has been put on the back burner. As I watched Tahiti, I also watched the built up anger, stress, and frustration of the day dissipate. It gave me a wonderful feeling of freedom: freedom from the frustration and anxiety of daily living. Finally, I had found the relaxation I have so frequently sought, but was never able to find. And to think, this sense of peace was found by closely watching a friend that I have known for years. She is beautiful. She is wise. She is the epitome of content.


Final mention; Tahiti passed away unexpectedly in January due to severe complications of ketoacidosis related to Diabetes that had been diagnosed only days before. She was 17 1/2.

Memories of a young LiVEwiRe

So it has come to be that I spent most of my day doing two things I'd not planned on. The first was being home; this due to an ill-fated collision with a cut-away wall in my house. The wall won and I have a temporary orthopedic device. (What I need is a crash helmet.) The second was going through boxes that I've had packed away in my attic for quite a few years. Good thing PMS is not lurking or I'd be in BIG trouble... along with everyone else around me by default. So many things I'd forgotten about. Things that I remember but have no idea who gave them to me. Cards I read containing inside jokes long gone from memory. Memories of people; relationships. All parts of me, packed in a corner of an attic, yearning to be remembered again yet silently moldering without recollection.

This is a bit of a trip down LiVEwiRE lane... feel free to come along and I'll tell you about a few of the things I've rediscovered.

Much to my chagrin, I found grade school pictures. Ugh. Was I ever that small? And who on earth thought glasses with each lens the size of a saucer would be a good look on anyone?! I look back at the group photo of my class and can remember most of their names and little things about each of them. With a little more time I'm sure I'll remember all of the names. For some reason this is important to me. I wonder where they all are now. Not just that I wonder, but I really have the desire to know.

Then there were various greeting cards. Several of them were from when I was rather young. Let me tell you right now, greeting cards from the 1970s were ugly. All yellow and orange and brown. Who puts brown on greeting cards... come on?! Funniest thing about it was the price; 40 cents, 50 cents and a top price of 65 cents. And these were nice cards; ugly, but good quality. With these cards, I saw two items of great significance. The first was my grandfather's name signed on a card. He's been gone for 14 years yet seeing his name made me miss him so much. The other thing that caught my eye was that my grandparents (maternal; same as the grandfather I just spoke of) had signed their last name to a card - as in Grandma and Grandpa XXXXXXXXX. I truly never recall seeing that before. After my parents divorced I had limited contact with the other side of the family. 'Limited' is being generous and it didn't last long at all. Just so odd to think back to a time when there was even a need to designate which grandparents a card was from. Even trying to, I can't think of it; at all.

Jumping to age 18, I was in art school and met a guy through a mutual acquaintance and we dated briefly. To this day I think of him. His name was Robert Jackson and he was the first guy to ever write me a poem. We were quite a pair; he was tall and rather muscular while I had purple hair, he was as rich, dark brown as I was a pale, milky white. Today I found his poem: Green eyes, pretty smile, warm heart - very lovely woman. I feel wanted by her warm heart already. Reminds me of home, but how do we describe home? To Robert, home is where I find the warmth; the joy of life. Throughout my life I feel the heart of home sweet like wine; but she is wine. (signed) Pen & Paper Wow. How sweet was that really? I omitted the last line because it included my name although I don't think it changed the sentiment. Not necessarily award winning in certain circles, but it had meaning to me. It would be years until a guy would write me a poem again. This year, in fact.

Another gem was finding a couple of cards and gifts from 2 of my former roommates. About 8 years ago I lived in a great old house (lots of wood, pocket doors, built-ins and leaded glass) with 2 guys, one of which owned the house. I think I lived with them for a year and a half then after that we all 'broke up' and each went on our own way. They were two of the best guys I've ever known yet we managed to lose touch. Looking at the gifts they'd given me I realized just how well they knew me; right down to the dark, sarcasm-laden cards that went with them. I can still remember the smell of the wooden cupboards.

I didn't plan on going through these boxes today and now that I have, there is nothing I can do to change it. Some of the things were great to see. Some of them led to more questions. Yet others make me think of what could have been, what was and shouldn't have been, and what was/wasn't that I never knew about either way.

Damn I hate free time.

Just a quick 'Eeewwwww'

Look before you leap; or in this case...sit.

This is going to be a bit gross but I don't care... I have to say it.


Girls... this one is directed at you. Boys... here's the truth about some of the girls...

I had to go to the mall briefly today and as fate and my bladder would have it, I had to pee. So off I go to the ladies room at JC Penney happy that there was not a line ahead of me. Well, it didn't matter that there wasn't a line, I spent just as much time getting to my target location as if there had been. Here's what I found:

• Stall #1: No functioning fixture. Apparently the toilet was malfunctioning and was not able to flush since about 1989. This did not, however, stop hoardes of women from using it anyway. Now, getting personal here, if I see a toilet that has been used and not flushed, I do not feel compelled to step in and use the same one. Unless I am delusional and think I have 'magic pee' that will get everything working again. And yet it would seem that numerous women felt it sensible to sit on this festering filth and add to the offerings.
• I told you this was gross...
• Stall #2: Out of Order... complete with sign made of torn cardboard and magic marker.
• Stall #4: The Handicapped Accessible (which I usually do not use) stall was not such a good option as the floor was soaked (with what I have no idea) and I could see that without going in. Back to...
• Stall #3: By this time I have to pee so damn bad that I'm about to use the sink but opt for the trash can instead. Again I reconsider and go for the stall. Upon entering this dark, cave-like structure, I sense a general feeling of normalcy which then triggers a sense of soon-to-be relief for my anxiously awaiting bladder. Sheer delight fills me as the button on my jeans slips through. The funny thing about women's bladders is that as soon as they 'think' they can pee... they want to. There is no telling them to wait once you pass through a stall door. One hand carefully deposits my purse onto the appropriate hook as the other urges my zipper further down. As I reach to place the protective seat covering down, I see it. Pee. On the damned seat! Ok, I suppose that the theory many women have is that instead of sitting on the seat, they 'hover'. This is gross. I'm not a rocket scientist but I've found a way to remedy the situation of coming into contact with a toilet seat. It's called putting down copius amounts of paper or one of those little sanitary paper ring things. Christ. You know... for you 'hoverers' out there that don't want to sit on the seat, what makes you think I welcome the thought of sitting on your urine?! You can still use the paper if you hover to catch those little pee drops that inevitably make their way to the seat. Or here's another idea... wipe the seat. Again... if you think 'ewww, pee...', it's your pee, idiot! If you don't want to touch it, why should I want to?
• In the end, things all worked out and the boycuts remained dry... thankfully! It was kind of questionable there for a bit.

Yes, I know that may have been a bit more than you cared to know about the fascinating goings on behind the ladies room door, but I had to vent. And for all the guys that are tired of getting bitched at for leaving a pee drop on the seat... go ahead... ask her if she's a hoverer. I dare you. If she is, she's most likely done her fair share of peeing on the seat. After all, at least guys have the sense to look where they are aiming.

Completely unrelated (thank goodness), check out what Carpy did with his Googlisms! Such a wonderfully creative job... you should really check it out!

Survey says...

I found this original on Steve's blog and got such a laugh from it that I decided to do one for myself. Of course I won't use my real name here but the Googlisms for my blog name are just as interesting. I've only done about 1/2 of them for the sake of saving everyone from great bouts of boredom; so here we go...

livewire is kosher; like a pickle, baby.
livewire is simple - only some of the time.
livewire is not useful to me - well, you're not so useful either.
livewire is one of the best. Haven't I been saying this all along?
livewire is a scheme that seeks to encourage young australians between the ages of 18. I'm encouraging young Australians? Males? Heehee...
livewire is looking for - everything, she has a bad memory.
livewire is on its way out the door - possibly...
livewire is het startpunt voor jonge ondernemers. Should I be offended?
livewire is a fly in a pair of men's pants. (Woohoo!)
livewire is buggy. Now that is just stating the obvious!
livewire is one of several servers; oh and how I serve...
livewire is the on - but she is looking for the 'low' and 'high' settings.
livewire is a well. That could be taken in several ways; I'll pass.
livewire is a standard component of the enterprise server 2 - see, I come standard... no extra charges apply!
livewire is pulling these answers out of her ass.
livewire is informal - yep, pretty much. No pomp. No circumstance. No pretention. No clue.
livewire is an image - of utter and divine lovliness!
livewire is constantly evolving and is an invaluable service for touring musicians - yeah, it's called the 'ego boost'... [grumble, grumble, grumble...]
livewire is script driven - where's my new cue card? ['Scott!' a la Frau in Austin Powers]
livewire is thankful for - just about everything... even the bad things.
livewire is tightly integrated with pcb wizard 3. Tightly integrated with a wizard? All Riiiight!!!
livewire is a storycolexion - ok, sure, whatever...
livewire is a must... as I've been telling you... join in, join in the cult. You'll love it here; join in.
livewire is a technology only for the blogospherically priveleged. Or the delirious...
livewire is the official publication of the guildford area mental health forum. Livewire? Mental Health? DUH!!! Apparently someone felt the need to put that in writing...
livewire is a premier vendor of sun microsystems hardware with a focus on rapid response to your needs. There is nothing rapid about me. And what about MY needs?
livewire is always on the brink
livewire is also home to schools of jumbo yellow perch. Little known fact... I keep schools of them in my bra.
livewire is a great way to keep up to date on product releases - if you want the knowledge about 18 months too late.
livewire is a global shell initiative. Dude! I'm global! [Sings a bit of old ZZ Top... 'We're bad... we're nationwide'!]
livewire is revolutionary in its convenience. At first I thought it said 'incontinence', now it's not as funny.
livewire is part of singapores it2000 masterplan to deploy a nation wide information infrastructure - I am SO going global.... Muuuuhuhuhhahahahahaha!
livewire is one of the best resources i know of for network integration or phenomenal fresh salsa.
livewire is fully inserted into the unit - Oh, how I wish for that to be true. You have no idea.
livewire is a non. Yep, I'll go along with that.... I'm a non...
livewire is for 18 and over, please. No admittance without parent, guardian, or cash in hand.
livewire is managing the hosting. Well, you're screwed then.
livewire rocks!
livewire is essentially a partnership scheme it needs to work with all these sectors to be sustainable. I am self-sustaining you bastards!
livewire is an active partnership between the voluntary sector. Who am I actively partnering with? {gleam in eye}
livewire is diversified - I can put both my left foot and right foot in my mouth. That's diverse, isn't it?
livewire is a tool - yeah, crank me baby.
livewire is tired of providing a battle ground for dueling neurotransmitters.
livewire is described in the cyberpunk rulebook - go to page 82... you'll see!
livewire is owned by virtual valley inc. They only think they own me. I let them think that... part of my charity work.
livewire is here - don't be alarmed, but livewire is everywhere.
livewire is a uk... what? Visitor? Resident? Affiliate? Outcast? Threat? What?!?!?!?!
livewire is not responsible for the privacy practices of other sites - I'm barely responsible for my own privacy practices! What do you people want from me?!
livewire is committed to raising awareness - yes, but you could have accurately stopped the sentence at 'committed'.
livewire is a professional; only on the days I get paid. Otherwise it's a free-for-all in this noggin'.
livewire is running 4 rock n pop workshops each week. If it would have said 'Pop-Rock' workshops I would have totally believed it! [Step one, pour 4 packets into mouth...]
livewire is a 32bit threaded text based comm program for os/2 2 - what?! Threaded text sound a bit shady to me...
livewire is pleased to have formally established this relationship with buck. yes, Buck Owens... formery of Hee Haw fame. I knew the truth would come out some day...
livewire is also playing an increasing role in interactive tv development through hypertv - Hyper, yes - often. Interactive? Hell Yeah!!! Just pleeeease let me select the channels..... pleeeease!
livewire is a scheme to help young people aged 16 never apply for a drivers license so as not to add to the number of assholes on the road. Man, I gotta work harder on this one.!
livewire is distributed throughout the region. Distribute me baby... plenty to go around - no need to get grabby. Well, unless its right there, no - over, over, almost... yeah! Right there! =)
livewire is progressing and next week she will be walking upright.
livewire is seen on at&t broadband’s channel 24 in the west michigan cablesystem. Good lord... look away man, look away!

So I'm sure these aren't nearly as good as Steve's answers, but hey, mine seldom are... But this was fun and silly and I kind of enjoyed filling in the blank. Some of the ones for my real name were better but I don't really want that on here, so we got some odd 'livewire' ones.

You should really try this, even if for your own enjoyment and laughter.

Timmy & Johnny

I assure you, I've been trying to hold back...

I've just failed miserably.

Yes folks, it's 6 weeks until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is released and I am bursting at the seams with excitement. (This would be a good time to check out the link I have so lovingly provided, including the flash site... lots of fun toys on there.)

We know that when Timmy and Johnny team up there will be lots of quirks, peculiar affectations, unsettling scenarios and this time, a pale, creepy recluse clad in a deep red velvet coat and top hat. I know it's odd to admit but WOW... this is one children's book character that has an effect on me like no other... I'm only hoping that my local IMAX runs this as it is being released concurrently; IMAX and standard theaters. After seeing a 40 foot tall Burton-esque Wonka portrayed by the king of quirk himself, Johnny Depp, I'd best hope I don't slide off my seat during the show. Ahem...

Anyway... Factory Tours begin soon... while you're here, take a peek at the site address; have you seen any others starting like that with a '2' before the dot?

One helpful hint... when you watch the clip, turn your sound down if you don't want the song stuck in your head all damn day. Just fair warning...

It was the sunshine...

Today I did so much yet so little... what an odd day...

First, it was fabulously warm and sunny. I found myself wishing I'd worn capris to run errands as opposed to my jeans; especially when I learned that the air conditioner in my car has obviously died and gone to the big scrapyard in the sky.

Went to pick up my sexy-hot-nerdy-metro-mama black specs today. I've been waiting for sooo long to get them! Too bad the idiots 'forgot' to order the astigmatism correction for my left eye. Here's to another 7 days or so. How fucking brilliant are these people? Did they assume I wanted only partial vision?...

Especially considering that I told them I was leaving for vacation on Saturday, May 28th! But that's ok, my vacation has been cancelled as well. Eight days with nothing to do but, well, nothing actually. Other than burn up PTO time at work for a vacation I'm not taking. And pick up my specs. Again.

I did manage to get my car's gas tank filled for $1.99/gallon which is certainly a bargain prior to the holiday prices that are looming as I type.

Also used a nifty little program (for the first time), speakers and mic to talk with a far away friend! It was a bit odd at first talking to my computer and actually having it answer but I really enjoyed being able to utilize that little setup. We email often, and I'd never trade that, but being able to talk (of course for free) like that was wonderful. Really wonderful.

My mother is coming over tomorrow. Great. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, but this will place the dreaded triad in my very own space. Three generations of female LiVEwiRes all in the same house. At the same time. One unemployed, one unsettled, one out of touch and all three obstinate. Hey... anyone wanna come over and join in the festivities? Anyone? Help?

Got the chance today to get to some of the blogs that I've been missing due to some other circumstances. Everyone is so unique yet there is that one thing that unifies every single one. Not sure what it really is, but I'm glad it's there as I love reading all the posts and getting to know people through them.

Speaking of blogs. In case it crosses your mind to do so... please do not throw questions at me. I may panic. I understand the fun of it, and enjoy reading your responses, but if I get put on the spot I will not be mature. I will pout. Then I will answer them anyway and secretly hate you for sending them to me. I might even find a way to rip off your own arm and beat you with it. It will not be pretty. Have a goofy question you want me to answer? No problem; I can handle that. Just that getting hit with an unsolicited barrage of questions makes me edgy. No idea why, I'm just weird like that I suppose. That makes me sound like such a killjoy, which I'm not. Just hoping to avoid a possible awkward moment.

It's almost midnight and I still have tons of clothes and bags and miscellaneous crap strewn over my bed. Several hours ago I decided I'd do some summer closet organizing and get rid of things I no longer use. Pile for the garbage, pile for donation, pile that I somehow think I'll wear again but never will, pile to... well, you get the idea. Yeah. There are three choices here. I can (a) sleep on/in it (don't think I won't), (b) push it on the floor and have to start over tomorrow, or (c) just suck it up and finish it tonight. Well, I think I'll go for (c) and get it out of my way.

For as odd as this day was, I liked it. I had sunshine, Benny, and a good friend to talk to...
~

Things that go 'mew' in the night

He's back home!!!

My little furry man is back home! I worked late tonight and on my way out of the car at home, I heard this pathetic little 'mew'. Several times actually... just didn't see any cat to go with it. In the dark, he came from behind my garage, walked behind my car, and tip-toed over to the door. He was emmitting little sonar like 'mews', rubbing up against me and doing some odd sort of kitty jig.

Upon first inspection, he appears alright save for the fact that he is thinner and lighter. Considering that he is one hell of a hunter, I'd say he was trapped in a garage or shed and didn't eat or drink for 5 days; he was a hoover when I gave him his food. I'm letting him relax and feel something normal for tonight then I'll thoroughly inspect him tomorrow. With his history of illness I can't be too careful. An interrogation may follow...

I didn't think I'd be writing this post, that's why I wrote the other one... to start coming to terms with the fact that he may have been gone. Tomorrow is another day and we'll see what happens, but for tonight, I know where my little Benny is. Playing the role of 'King' right where he should be.


Again, thank you all for your comments. It is good to know that others have faced similar situations and lived to tell or just that they simply want to show their concern.

>^^<

A Hunter in the sky?..

First, I want to say thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. The reassurance helped me realize that although people suck at times, there are others that don't live their life that way. The particular person I posted about lived up to a stereotype but even though it was upsetting, I do believe (somewhere in me) that people can be equally as good. The worst part was feeling a fool... but I thank every one of you who commented. It helped more than you may realize.

So, I was actually holding off on posting until my frame of mind improved. Uh... that may be a while, so here we go...

Once upon a time, oh about 2 years ago, a cute little kitty (maybe 6 months old) came wandering over to me. He was cute and silly and would literally post guard around my rabbit's outdoor home in the summer like a whiskered sentry. If an animal (or leaf) came into the yard, he'd chase it away from her and go sit near her again. Oh his 'off' hours, he'd crawl through the flowering shrubs and sing loudly, pushing his face into the blooms as if serenading the pollen deep inside. I knew he lived next door and one day, the neighbors up and moved... leaving him behind. Well, the course was set and we became 'each others'. I named him Benny Orion... Benny (after a goofy radio show mall guard character, which fit well with his guarding of my rabbit) and Orion for the hunter... as he proved to be the mightiest of hunters. Off to the vet for a check up, testing and neutering and he was the picture of health. For a while. Then he got sick. Kind of sluggish at first, then raspy sounding. Well, it appeared to be an upper respiratory thing and he started antibiotics. Well, there were a few better days but then the bottom fell out. He had a temperature of 106F (keeping in mind that 108F = brain damage) that refused to break. I was up through many nights replacing ice packs and encouraging him to eat and drink. Nothing was working and after further testing, I learned he had Feline Leukemia. I had been a vet tech for 4 years and was able to do various treatments at home that most others wouldn't be able to do. This went on for weeks and after an appointment was made to put him to sleep, the doctor and I decided to try one last thing. We put him on high dose steroids and it saved his life. He had a few relapses, but was doing quite well. At his most recent check up, the doctor was amazed at his progress and retested him for the leukemia. It was gone! That is such a rare occurance! The vet explained that he had been practicing for 20 years and had heard of it but never saw it. My little Benny was one for the record books! As the weather got nicer, Benny wanted to go out. I'm not a fan of having cats roam outside but that was his 'thing'. I tried everything I could to tame the so-called beast in him and he remained the worst cat I've ever known. I threatened to kill him daily with my bare hands. Hands which he bit and ultimately scarred during what he considered a play session. His teeth were insanely sharp, yet he never clawed at me. Most things in my house have been somewhat damaged due to his ability to propel himself like a cannon ball. Something was always a little odd up in that orange and white head of his, but for as much of a pain in the ass I found him to be, he made me love him all the more. Even while threatening him with death. The fact that he beat such odds amazed me and I figure it was out of sheer stubbornness. That attitude was what also led to him becoming an indoor/outdoor cat. He was trashing everything and becoming unhappy at times... I could see the gears in his head indicating it. So the in/out thing worked like a dream for quite a while - best of both worlds. Until last Friday when I went to go see that band. He wanted in and I told him he could wait for the short amount of time I'd be gone and I'd let him in then. When I got home, he wasn't around. I kept checking and calling him, but he was nowhere to be found. I wasn't happy, but I figured that he'd be here waiting for breakfast bright and early. That was Friday... it is now Tuesday night. Still no Benny. I keep looking out the window, thinking I'll see him trotting up the sidewalk, but I don't. He may be locked in someones garden shed, hurt, or even dead. There is no way for me to know. But I am feeling the most intense guilt because if only I would have let him stay on the patio when I left then maybe he would be alright. My actions may have been the cause of whatever has befallen him. My chest is tight and I am fighting off tears constantly. I want my little pain in the ass back. I'm not sure if anyone has really bothered to read this in it's entirety, but I think I had to write it to get it out of my head, come to terms with the facts I know and perhaps to even say goodbye to him.
>^^<

Born-again Virgin

Ok, so here's an update for you...

Remember the guy I told you about meeting the other night? Well, I took the chance and went to the bar where his band was playing! Actually, the band was really good and he has a great voice. I was considering not going but then I figured I should just go and maybe, just maybe, I 'd have a good time. Stranger things have happened you know...

My lesson for the night? Men are fucking pigs! Although hopefully not in the literal sense.

(And I'll take this moment to apologize to the porcine species... that's not fair to them.)

I can't even look!

Okay, so I have this weird thing that has been currently bugging me... today it is the avian species.

For quite some time I have been unable to directly look at or acknowledge things that really bother me on a certain level. (I would take the time to explain what some of these things are, but it will make me sound cold, when in fact I feel this way because I kind of go into 'feeling overload'. It is the exact opposite but I'll feel the need to defend my thoughts and that is a crummy place to be in, so I shall refrain.) There are days that it comes upon me suddenly and other days where I can sense it's presence miles away. Today was one of those days.

Long ago I learned to turn my head and not look anywhere near an animal that had been hit near the road. Not because I can't stand the blood, but because I'm afraid I'll see it move. A stiff wind teamed with a flouncy squirrel tail has incited near heart attack conditions on more than one occasion for me in the past. Yes, in this instance I startle easily. My fear of this stems from several bad experiences in seeing a wounded roadside animal that was just hit. Trust me when I say that the images will haunt me forever. I've always loved animals, but some of this is based (in addition) on my contempt for humans as some of the things I saw were done out of carelessness and worse, some on purpose.

Sometimes, you can't turn your head though. This morning on my way to work, I saw 2 wild ducks hit on the road. One male, one female - easily noted by their feather patterns and colors; sweet little couple out for a morning stroll. They were directly across from a farm with a pond and it is known that they have tons of geese and ducks, domestic and wild. Anyway, they could not have been more than 3 feet apart from one another and they were directly in the path of the cars tires. Is it so hard to stop or slow down? I'm figuring there was no attempt to swerve either due to their positioning. My eyes caught sight of it before I could reroute them and avoid it. It was a windy morning. I'm not sure if feathers moved but I'd prefer to think of it as a direct result of the wind if they did. People are selfish idiots. Now the second incident involved a rather pretty yet unfortunate bird that met it's demise by flying into my patio window. I managed to miss it when I got home from work, but I saw it shortly thereafter. Again, with the wind, I didn't know if the feathery movement was voluntary or weather related. I managed to just grasp for the poor thing and found that it was in fact dead. Talk about a sigh of relief...

If you don't understand why this is so traumatizing for me, maybe you can try this. Imagine the scenario of the little bird I just told you about. Now when you pick it up, imagine that you are met with a weak squawking, lolling head, horribly bent wing, and partial paralization. Now imagine the terror it must be feeling in addition to pain. Now... what do you do? Do you leave it to suffer or do you bring death swiftly. And if so, how? Are you guaranteed it'll work? You are last thing it will know. Lots of considerations. Too many for me - which is why it overloads me and I try not to look. No, it doesn't change the fact of what has occured, but it may save me quite a bit of anxiety. There is a line in a movie (Kill Me Later) where Selma Blair, hard-edged as she may be at times, thinks back to why she is like she is... says she always wanted to peel the worms off the sidewalk to save them. I can identify. After peeling off so many worms it gets to you. It is overload and your remaining sanity may hinge upon avoidance of one the things you held most dear.

Besides, doesn't it bother you? The way I talked about the blatant disregard with the ducks? What about the responsibility and final kindness for the bird? Doesn't part of this ring true of how we interact with other humans?!? Can you really count on your fellow humans to treat you with much more respect than they would of these avian creatures? Just think about it; I'm not really looking for an answer to that. I think what upsets me the most is that I don't see so much of a line between the bird/human opportunity here. The potential for it stares us in the face every day with stories on abuse and neglect, yet for some reason most people tend to think it is completely unrelated. It is linked though, with patterns of behavior and acceptance of things that should be acceptable in no circle of life. These things remind me how fragile everything is and it can be a painful glimpse sometimes. I suppose that is what I'm getting now.

I'm stopping now as I had no idea I'd go on this long. This bothered me more than I'd even realized. Hmmm... I'm off to patrol the sidewalks.... even if it kills me in the end.

Its a miracle!!!!

Mark your calendars kiddies... I was extra nice today. My cousin was fighting with her man and she wanted to go to the bar for a few drinks. At 3 in the afternoon. We used to be close, but we've drifted apart in the past few years having it culminate in a screaming match (complete with death threats) involving police and many other family members ducking for cover. But I won't bore you with that. She called today and I went, as if nothing had happened. Granted, I had reservations, but her pain superseded all that had happened in the past. In the end? No idea... things are currently unresolved, but I tried my best to just simply be there for her. I hope I succeeded.

During this little outing, her man showed up and they went outside for a bit. Next thing I knew, a nice 'boy' came walking over and began talking to me. He said he could see that something was going on and he wanted to make sure everything was alright because I looked so sad. I explained that my sadness had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my cousin (which I thought was quite apparent since my tear stained cousin was the one that left briefly with the crabby boy). Anyway, we talked for a few minutes and I thanked him for his concern. Within 20 minutes he was back, making sure I was 'ok'. We introduced ourselves and just chatted for a bit. I learned that he is the drummer/singer in a local band (I've really been out of the loop) and happens to be doing a show at the same bar on Friday. I kindly told him I had to work the next day and he promptly gave me his Saturday schedule as well. I must be really, really dense. He leaves. He returns. In no way was he 'pawing' at me, but I did notice some lingering touches that I played off as a gentlemanly gesture (ie: a touch on the back as I passed in front of him, etc.). I did notice, though, that he kept looking at me. Eventually, he just looked me square in the eye and said, "My God, you're beautiful!"

Now, I don't say this to toot my own horn - far, far from it. I say this because I'm so used to avoiding and downplaying signals that this guy actually had to be that straightforward for me to realize that he was interested. Part of me wants to go for a bit this weekend, just to see. But I still can't get over my own inability to hone in on these signals when it pertains to me...

Is it fuzzy in here or is it just me?

A few posts back, I wrote about some side effects I was having after taking only 5 doses of a new drug. When I realized the problems I was having were directly related to the drug, I stopped taking it. That was how long ago? Ten or 12 days? So I've been off the meds for that long and for some reason I would have sworn that I could still feel a little bit of the effects. Anyway, I knew I needed to start them again (at a very low dose) and took 1/2 tablet last night, figuring I would quarter my daily intake. {{~ BUZZ ~}} Wrong answer!!!

Three guesses as to who got kicked in the ass by the stuff yet again!!! It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, but I could feel all the same things... limbs like slack, wobbly rubber bands, slight difficulty with speech, a really, really mellow yet happy-go-lucky attitude, and lest we forget the fuzzy tongue. Holy shit. I mean, it was like having a few drinks... so not entirely a bad thing. This does tell me that it must not have been cleared out of my system and that adding this 1/2 tablet, it 'reactivated' the entire process. This med could be such a good thing for me (I had no worries!) but I have to find a balance here; I still need to function after all. My theory is that I can just lick said tablet twice daily and that should be just about enough for a dose. Or sleep with it under my pillow. I mean come on... I work in pharmaceuticals... there should be SOME form of solidarity here between the me and the meds... sheesh!

I think my vacation is no longer. It is not official yet, but I'm about 90% sure. On the bright side... if I take enough meds, I won't care! =)

Off to the library tomorrow to find a new book... it is so wonderful knowing that by this time tomorrow, I'll be introduced to new people and places via my upcoming literary selection. I have no idea what I'll find there, but 24 hours from now my life will be changed, yet again, by another's words and imagination. Wonder what it'll be this time...

Is it ok to breathe again?

Whew.......

It has been one hell of a week. Somehow I found myself tightly nestled in the jaws of a twisted depression and I think it is finally lifting.

[Oh please, please, please... I swear I'll be good. Ok, I'll TRY to be good. Alright, I'll try not to be bad? Is that better? Slightly more realistic? Just no more of this shit for a while...]

It is not often that depression alone grips me. Being bipolar I happen to have mixed episodes which are comprised of both mania and a small amount of depression at the same time. Yeah, not real comfortable in the ol' skull I can tell ya'. Often I just go for mania, but this time, I got depression. Straight up. Neat. Whatever you want to call it... here's a pointer. Avoid it. Nuff said. So I'm just happy that it appears to be leaving.

So enough of all that... work sucks, vacation is still not planned and I'm supposed to be leaving in 2 1/2 weeks, and I'm getting an unfamiliar urge to shop. In another 150 pages or so, maybe less, I'll be scoping out a new book. That is so exciting for me. I think that probably ups my nerd quotient, eh? Ooh, and the fact that I go to the eye doctor tomorrow and officially order my nerdy black marbelized frames... when I get those, true book-nerddom can begin...

Life is getting good again....

Oh... just to prove that life is getting better... I found, at a local store, Starbuck's Mint Mocha Frappuccinos... haven't tasted them yet; I've got them chilling but I am simply salivating in anticipation... and I won a gift certificate to a local department store, and (unrelated) a close parking space for a month at work! Yay me!

Between Finding Focus

That is precisely where I am .

My nights have been avoidance; my days have been spent soaking in an invisible azure tinted with rotting black. It seeps deep into my core, or perhaps that is where it emanates from. So hard to say anymore.

I am the antichrist with a little less charm, I am the scared little girl lost and crying. The losses register, the words still sting. Melancholy abounds, entwined with the desire to be comforted, yet I keep my feet moving away. Away. From you. I make it my punishment.

If I could separate from myself, I would. Just for a while. Until the words come to be right again. Until I could believe in them again. I believe more in mine than I do in yours and that isn't saying much right now. For either of us.

When I am crawling out of my skin in an ethereal molt, staring over the precipice, I hope that I would be able to recognize my salvation and reach out to it. Or perhaps, by some form of unseen justice, it will reach out for me.


I am tired of fighting. But I'm too stubborn not to. Unfortunately my fight is sometimes with myself, not just you.
*

I think it was on Tuesdays.

That's when I became a book nerd.

So I had this strange little thing happen to me tonight at work. (Yes, the drugs are still using my receptor sites as stomping grounds, but it is easing up the slightest bit, for which I am grateful.) Anyway... I'm delivering the overnight IVs to our ICU department via our IV cart... similar to the Soul Train, but not quite as flashy... and I wasn't dancing. So I turn the corner from the main hall into the 'Employees Only' surgery hallway and it hit me. The smell. I don't know where it came from, or what right it had to be there, but it was over whelming...

All of a sudden I was back in second grade. I was in Library Class. Yes, back in the dark ages we honestly had a class for Library. I could actually smell the musty residue, the aging paper, and the worn, sometimes crumbling cloth bindings. Mr. McCoy, our librarian was sitting on a tall chair in his monochromatic ensemble du jour instructing us to select our books for the coming week. We'd scatter and I'd invariably end up in the far left corner alcove where the Nancy Drew books were shelved. I don't think I ever read a Nancy Drew book the whole way through. My attraction to that section was for two reasons. First, I could see everything else that was going on yet felt as if I were hidden away, left to browse the same books I did every week, actually. Second, it was the Nancy Drew section... need I say more?! Ok, yeah, I probably do... I used to watch the Hardy Boys on television and it starred one astonishingly cute boy... Shaun Cassidy. In the shows and books, they apparently teamed up for some underage detective work on occasion. That bit of knowledge was all I needed... I was sure that if I perused those pages every chance I had, that eventually a picture of this glorious boy in white polyester pants with feathered hair would manifest. It never did, but I never gave up on the thought that it might. That may have ended my career in optimism... But every Tuesday I sat, curled up on the floor, flipping through pages I knew I'd never read. Pages that had seen dozens of chubby little chocolate smudged fingers, found their way to and from school without ever leaving the safe confines of a bookbag, and were no doubt used to smack the boy you liked in the back of the head while riding the bus home. Books that you never thought to ruin or deface. Books that you knew would be there the next week; and the next. Mr. McCoy would call us all back to the center of the room after a short time and we would tell about the book we'd chosen. Each week, we all gravitated toward our favorites but Mr. McCoy never appeared to mind. He'd listen with great fascination as we'd excitedly tell the tale of the 'new' book we'd chosen, when in fact, it was the same as the one we'd opted for only three weeks prior. He knew this, but he never let on. He let us go on thinking that we were fooling him once again: every week, this charade played out. In the past, I have wondered what became of him. Did he maintain his patient yet encouraging approach to reading? Did he ever dress and match to more than a monochromatic palette? And most importantly, did he ever think that he might be the reason for me being the book nerd that I am today?

So that's what I smelled. Seriously... when I turned the corner into the surgery hall. I smelled books, my second grade library, all of it. Odd thing to smell in a hospital if you ask me, but it stopped me in my tracks. What a lovely thing to smell and what a magnificent memory to have surface. Thank you Mr. McCoy, wherever you are!

Izth Yuwr Thunng Thuzzy Thoo?

Some people spend their time on Sundays becoming one with sports or yard work. Not this LiVEwiRE... no, I opted for package D. That would be the package marked 'D' for Drug Side Effects. Holy shit and then some! Here's a quick rundown; feel free to laugh at my expense.

Friday night I started a new med... seemed fairly harmless. Ok through Saturday and into Sunday. The second half of Sunday was finding me a little uncoordinated... well, more than usual. Tried to drive to get Chinese take-out and found that someone had mysteriously replaced my power brakes with the non-power variety; you know, the ones you have to stand on to get the car to stop? Without warning, my car would rocket to ridiculously high speeds (such as 25MPH), leaving me to draw on my lightning fast reflexes (that are not there on a good day) to avoid crashing into fast moving objects that were darting out in front of me. These being mailboxes and traffic signs. I also believe that Sunday afternoon marked a new path in our relationship with the sun... no amount of protective eyewear was able to withstand the endless barage of these powerful rays leaving my retinas to whimper as the searing began. The remainder of the day went as such until I finally gave in and simply went to bed thinking it was just an 'off' afternoon.

Enter Monday morning. I can't see. Well, I can see, but it's constantly shifting and my ability to focus has gone. I'm quite sure that if I look in the mirror my tongue will be fuzzy and my lips will be vibrating visibly. My limbs are on strike and have each come to their own conclusion on how best to handle the matter; however, I'd like for them to come to an accord for a few moments... just long enough for me to pee as I've been sucking up water like a sponge. Uncoordinated barely covers it. This was one time in my life that I was glad to be a girl and that I had to sit to pee. Otherwise, there would be a lovely pattern of urine all over my wall, floor, fixtures, etc. It took a bit to figure it all out (oh yes, I'm a genius) but these are all side effects from my new med. I look and sound like I'm drunk. So here's the major drawback....

I had to go to work. I had to swallow my pride and have someone drive me there and pick me up. I hate having to depend on someone and I do not do it well. While at work, I walked like half of my body was aleep and talked like half my brain was asleep. During the few times where I passed visitors in the hospital, I said 'hi' (as I always do), but this time, this time was different. I felt like I looked and sounded like a crack hallucination combination of a second-rate drunken court jester and Neil Young. This is not a feeling I wish to emulate... ever.

So here I am, I made it home; still slurring and struggling like hell to see this monitor. I would hope that I'd wake up tomorrow and feel better, but I'm not counting on it. I'm not taking a defeatist attitude - this drug simply has a long half-life. What does this mean to me? It means that I have approximately 65 hours from my last dose until the drug is 1/2 way out of my system. Well how much more fun can a girl hope for? Anyone wanna come over and taunt me? Maybe spin me in circles? Show me optical illusions? And I get to go to work tomorrow, too - but driving is all up to me.

Moral of the story: Pay close attention to your meds. Even if you are given a 'normal' dose remember that you may react differently. Most importantly... don't ask anyone to feel your tongue just because it feels fuzzy to you.

Alas, the spell has been broken...

So many things of little or no importance, each trying to be the first one to play bumper cars with the neurotransmitter that will carry it's impulse to my fingertips and utter it's selected words first. Pushy little buggers, eh?

There is something that has come to my attention. Well, it didn't actually come to my attention, I suppose I formed it based on a passing thought of another person, but it really made me think. What is it that we have here in Blogdom? We find people that interest, amuse, and connect with us. But is it true that those people can only be found in another hemisphere?! Cuz' from where I'm sitting - that appears to be the case. Perhaps what I'm wondering is this - if I like 'talking' to these people overseas, does that mean that fun people are only from other countries, etc? If that's the case... there has to be others in my part of the US, right? Then where in the hell are they?! I think this is the part that bothers me... if they are here, why don't I find them? Could it be that I am not the open-minded person I thought I was? Do I put up barriers before even getting to know a person? Barriers that otherwise wouldn't be there in other situations, oh, say, like in Blogdom... I find it fascinating, though. What is the main difference? Obviously, there is no personal contact, yet people tend to tell quite a bit, so there is a high level of honesty. I use the word honesty loosely because given the option, most people would rather lie to your face than risk 4 seconds of feeling awkward. If someone is a liar, they will do it in whatever form is available: I'm giving the benefit of the doubt here... go with it.

I suppose I'm just wondering what makes me think so highly of those I haven't met. There are a few people in particular that I could link here, but I won't because that's really not my call to make. Just in reference to the fact that you are cool individuals, you know? And if I did that, and you commented and said how much I sucked... we'd be in a bit of a quandry. Not so much a quandry perhaps, but a 'restraining order' type of situation. I'd close that gap in Blogdom soooo fast.... oh, um, oops... Ahem. I'm just kidding (for the most part)....::::heehee:::::

Honestly, I'd be interested in your thoughts and comments on this issue. At one point in time, I thought I knew the answer. Then if you can tell me how to download these folks from an email, that'd sure be great! =)

Ok, so I'm adding this about 30 minutes after I posted the above piece...
Check out the music link in the sidebar for LimbLifter (yes, I giggle when I say it, too). They have a really cool site and full length songs on there in 'map' format (just look). They have an interesting sound and for those of you that follow music... Ryan (singer) used to be with Age of Electric. Check it out... it's fun to look at, at least. Next... Matt Good is 6 feet tall. Who knew?!?! Truthfully, I couldn't care less, I just always thought he was 5'8" or something. It doesn't matter one shitting bit, but it surprised me - interesting factoid, I suppose. The link between Limblifter :::giggle::: and Matt Good is that they have been working together on some music. One made me think of the other. Time to up the meds.....

Rarity

So it is the weekend and I have just had the most wonderful day:

• I've finished reading my book (No matter that I'm traumatized due to a sort of separation anxiety already.)
• I have 2 new CDs on order
• I've organized some bill paying stuff
• All television was avoided
• A new book has been ordered
• Spent time chatting with a great person
• The most wonderful part of the day; however, revolved around the fact that I had some time alone. It was quiet, until I filled the house with sounds carefully chosen by me and me alone. Total control...

If this would be a movie, I'd close my eyes, tip my face skyward and elegantly spin and spin with my arms stretched out at my sides - drinking in the moment. Needless to say, my vertigo and general gracelessness prevent that scenario from occurring. Either way, it was a pretty great day just for that one reason. For that, I am so grateful that I had to write a post. Dorky, perhaps, but it made me happy. Silence and privacy are very important to me and are not within my reach 99.3% of the time; so to me, this is big.

I hear the banjos...

There is a reason that inbreeding is bad. It was summed up today for me while at work. I don't know for sure that the irritating masses of humans I encountered today were in fact inbred, but it sure would explain alot. With that in mind, here is what I'd like to know:

• How do you think you have the right to bitch about elevators not working, explaining that you've hit the button several times, when you have in fact pressed the button for a light switch? Do you not see the light turning on and off?
• Since when is it acceptable to prepare food (in a hospital, no less) while wiping your nose on your hand?
• Does someone really need to remind you to put out your cigarette before walking into said hospital?
• In order to send pain meds to a patient, we need an actual order. Yes, shocking I know. Do other healthcare facilities just dole out narcotics willy-nilly for unknown patients because the nurses say 'but the patient is due for it'? What patient? What meds? What dose... strength?
• Is it hard to grasp the concept of not walking directly under a LifeFlight helicopter as it is landing? Um, really...

This is why inbreeding is bad. It is the only thing I can think of that would make people behave like such fools. Now, I love to have music while I work... I just wasn't planning on it being the banjos from Deliverance.

Hollow Bones

Ok, so here's a new twist... I've decided to write something. Well, I mean something different. I've written a paragraph or two here and there and recently, a form of poetry, but this is going past all that. Every now and then, I get the idea for something and it will not let me go until I put it down in writing. I am currently being bullied by a character in a book I am reading and have used this character in a very general way for this... whatever this is that I am writing. I hope you enjoy it...


Slowly, with a dull, steady ache in her head, she began to come to. The cool damp earth beneath her had conformed to her every curve providing a customized fit. The smell of the soil infiltrated her nostrils and registered with a high level of fear, along with some sort of unsure comfort; a kind of safety intertwined with the fear. Her vision seemed unstable and was made markedly worse, along with the aching in her head, with every subtle movement of her head, neck, and shoulders.

She gritted her teeth and held down the nausea: she had to overcome it and take in the view of her surroundings, no matter what they might be. As she tightly closed her eyes to gather her remaining strength and determination, she found she could hear nothing; just her own rapid, unsteady breathing, ferociously bucking heartbeat and blood coursing through miles of veins, resonating in her ears, echoing. Enough strength had been gathered and she gingerly opened her eyes, not quite sure what to expect. With some amount of hesitation, she fully lifted her lids and there, between finding focus, lingered a fear that what she may look upon could be worse than what she had imagined.

Strangely, it wasn't. It seemed to be a room of sorts, yet not a room at all. With lack of adequate light, it appeared to be a roundish room maybe 20 feet in diameter. From what she could tell, it was solidly constructed with thick, ancient beams and chiseled quarry stone. For some reason, she couldn't see any sort of ceiling, save for a few of the tiniest holes of light. At first, she assumed it was a reflection, but of what? There really didn't seems to be enough light anywhere to catch a reflection, just an ambient light of sorts; soft, indirect, blending into the shadows and with no visible source. This mysterious ambient glow did, however, provide her with her first glimpse of herself.

A wave of horror, shame, and disgust overwhelmed her, providing escape for a thin, pitiful whine. She was sure she could hear the blood coursing louder and more violently in her ears. It appeared as if some child of giant proportion had chosen her as her plaything, a rag doll, then having found her expendable, cast her aside cruelly. Her legs splayed out in front, lolling gracelessly, torso ever so slightly tensed and twisted. Her clothes, though, may have been the thing that bothered her the most. They were wrinkled, torn, and soil laden, yet that was not so alarming. The fact that they appeared to have been put on wrong was what bothered her. She could see her pants, buttoned and pulled up properly, yet the zipper remained halfway undone. That made her painfully aware of the fact that although her underwear were present and accounted for, they were only up as far as the tops of her thighs - pants pulled up to cover that fact. Her shirt had been missing a few buttons but nothing worse than that really. More evidence of strange occurrences filled her head; the latest being the state of her bra. She could only see a certain amount from this prone position yet she could feel something was wrong. All else aside, the look of puzzlement on her face would surely have proved to be quite amusing. She determined that her bra actually felt to be tied together in the back yet her breasts were so carefully nestled in their respective cups. She felt stripped and hastily put back together.

Then the realization hit her like a landslide: her hands had been bound. It simply never occurred to her that she never tried to move her hands - she had been trying so hard to assess the key points of her lousy situation. Fear and panic replaced uncertainly and doubt. She writhed and wailed and she pulled at the restraints. Surprisingly, she found that her tethers were quite loose. They seemed to have been applied in the same manner as her clothing.

Before her renegade wail completed it's echo she was certain she'd heard something, and it seemed close. She tried to stand and opted to avoid that maneuver for a moment; closer to the ground was the way to go for now, too much instability with standing. She could now see that the ceiling she sought to identify earlier was a good 100 feet above her. She could have been in a turret - or a well. There was really no way to tell. Although there was a faint light, every now and then bright yet indistinct spheres of light appeared yet none of them managed to infiltrate the opposite side of this round cell. The harder she stared into the pitch black, the blacker it became. It gave her the feeling that she was not alone. Could it be her captor had been watching her this entire time planning a sort of cat and mouse game? She couldn't rush headlong into the darkness to see what was beyond and she couldn't just sit here like an idiot. Carefully, she looked around for something to throw into the darkness. She swore she'd heard something earlier so maybe she could flush it out; or maybe she'd die trying.

"Please...", came the voice from the darkness.

Shocked and terrified she almost dropped to the ground - heart beating painfully hard yet unable to speak at all.

"Please... you are ok. I am sorry."

To her, that sounded like an admission of guilt. "Sorry?" Quietly at first, then louder after anger helped her to find her voice. "Sorry?! What?!?! That's the best you've got.... sorry?!"
Her anger stoked a fire inside and gave her strength to stand without toppling. "Where am I? Why am I here? Show yourself, damn you!!"

From the dark- simply a gasp then, "No, I can't."

As frenzied and ready to pounce as she felt, she could tell there was something about this voice; something very different. Oddly, she felt no threat. There was a rustling sound from the darkness and as one of the mysterious spheres wandered by, she caught only a glimpse of a single being. No arsenal. No cohorts. Her adrenalin was still pumping in a frenzied fashion yet she managed to calm herself enough to try to find rational judgment.

She found the courage to call out, into the unseen, "Who are you then? I am here for you to see yet you would remain cloaked in darkness, hidden from me." Enough time had gone by for her to realize she was not getting an answer. "How did I get here? Where is here? What happened? Please... tell me." She felt like if she chose the wrong words her chances at learning the truth would slip away.

"I do not have all of the answers you seek, for that I am so very sorry.", came the reply.

"Even so... please come closer, perhaps we can speak. Who are you?" She had to keep him talking, it was really the only hope of learning what in the hell had happened.

With slight disgrace in tone, he said "I wish to stay here... in the dark. There is comfort in this darkness, for both of us, I assure you."

Her heart was heavy. She couldn't understand why he'd deny her this single, simple comfort after what she'd apparently been through, yet he did. Almost as if summoned by fate, several of the light spheres calmly circled the air between them, in the space that separated she by the dusty light and he by the enveloping darkness. For a brief moment those two spaces became one and dropped all veils of separation then all too soon resumed it's previous delineation. But it was long enough for her to see. And more than long enough for him to hope that she hadn't. The still shadowy face fearfully peering back at her was so unlike her own yet held more emotion at that moment than any countenance she'd ever laid eyes on. What should have been common sense as she knew it not so long ago dictated that she must have interpreted something incorrectly yet every cell in her body knew what she'd seen to be true. The image before her was of a man, yet not a man at all. He gave the impression of being of medium build and was clad only in modest trousers. He maintained a slight cower that resonated with a fear, punctuated with arms crossed protectively in front of him. His eyes shone with a golden glow that seemed to come from within, carrying with it a deep uncertainty and a haze of sadness. The same eyes that immediately earned her trust, although she could not say exactly why. She just felt it. Her next observation would have to draw heavily on that trust. The thick, full, rich brown hair appeared different than at first glance. At first, it looked shaggy and messy, hanging forward over his eyes and down over his shoulders. In a moment, the pieces began to fit together like a Dali puzzle. She saw that his hair flowed wildly forming a bulky mass behind him: she remembered the rustling she'd hear earlier. My God... wings. He must've read the shock on her face for his expression was now an identical reflection. With the exception that she could see a fierce, pointed beak, avian tongue poised to speak.

His voice flooded the small space, "Wait! You are safe with me!"

Although not afraid, she was utterly confused, "But how can you...You're a....This can't be... You can't be real."

At that, he stepped directly into the faint light, rustling and repositioning those glorious wings. He seemed almost flustered and reached out with very human arms, no longer crossed in from of him or hidden under the heft of the wings.

Sheer surprise caught her off guard and she was stumbling backward, losing footing. With a gentle loft of air, she found herself avoiding crashing into the harsh wall and instead being cradled by an immense wing that allowed her to regain her footing.

He began to speak, "We are both here, you and I, by the will of another. I am not the one to fear." For a moment, his unblinking gaze shifted, as if somewhat uncomfortable. "When you were left here, you were thrown in bare. For two days my wings protected you from the cold and provided what modesty they could. Scant provisions were tossed in after those first two days, along with your garments. Although you hadn't fully come to, I was able to coax you to take some water. I... I tried to clothe you, to replace some of the dignity they tried to strip you of..." He broke her gaze fully and completely, unsure of how learning of his actions would affect her. Would she fear him? Blame him? Or would she recoil in disgust as had so many others...

Her mind reeled - it was beginning to make sense. The rustling sounds, the loosened tethers, the haphazardly placed clothing. He was the reason... She knew there was a good chance she'd be dead if it weren't for him. The look on his face broke her heart.

She reached her hand to his face and slowly turned it toward hers encouraging their eyes to meet. Neither of them were able to look away yet neither could speak as neither had words befitting that moment.

After some time, her hand trailed to where his feathers met his skin just below his beak. His ebony pupils still commanding her gaze managed to allow her to utter a soft "thank you", while a tear of gratitude escaped her. In a fluid motion a silken feather wiped away her tear with a barely audible, "you're welcome".

Although grateful, she wanted to be gone from that place more, "Think we can get out of here?", she asked.

"I can help you, yes. But I cannot leave...", he said quietly.

No Shame

And when you hear the howl, will it drive you to your knees? Or will it lift you to soar to new heights you've only ever thought of in dreams.

Can you withstand the strain of sound, the fluidity of it as it courses through your veins? Or will you simply succumb to the idea of what you had hoped it to be?

When you taste it, will you let yourself go and admit with every fiber of your being that it is the one true thing you've waited a lifetime for? Or will the fear of that vulnerability render you incapable of reaction and truth?

Will the sight of it cause in you the purest of rapture, the most heartrending fear, and a love that would make most turn their head in unabashed shame? Or will you wall off that part of you for fear of baring your soul.

When the senses interpret such things, it is difficult to deny them. They are basic and have an urgency all their own; a slow sort of urgency that carefully feels its way along every component and cavity of your body and soul. You'd like to think it is you taking in the senses when in fact, the senses are devouring you - utterly, completely.

So when the music stops, when the howl can no longer be heard, where do you stand? Have you fully given in to what you want and need? Or do you wait patiently and listen for the next howl...

It's a Damn Shame the Sun Don't Shine Underground...

I'd typically not say 'sun don't shine' in that manner but it's a song lyric, so consider this my disclaimer and get over it.

Bunch of little things:

My family is the most sneakily manipulative group of people I've ever known. Damn them. They have this guilt thing down pat! Sometimes they just make me want to go take a shower when I'm done talking to them; kind of cleanse myself of the idiocy. Families are weird.

Work is a madhouse. If you are reading this from a madhouse, get over it. Changes and circles, and equipment breakdowns, and human breakdowns... then I see my schedule has been altered. Here are my shifts at any given time, any day of the week with no pattern whatsoever.... 7a - 3:30p, 8:30a - 5p, and 1:30p - 10p. So if that wasn't enough to get you tangled in your drawers coming and going... I come in to find yet a FOURTH shift of 8a - 12p on my schedule. Um... no. Simple. I promptly took a Klonopin and marched in there and firmly said I didn't agree, never signed up for it and wouldn't do it. Amazingly, it was not a problem and the situation is fixed. Three cheers for facing the problem; even if while drugged slightly!

My cat brought me a mouse and brought it to me bedside the other morning at 6:30a. She's not exactly a mouser and just let it mill about 1/2 in shock. Right... so I grabbed a sock (poor little thing) because I was not about to risk being mauled (ahem) and infected with the Hanta Virus (soooo prominent in Ohio). So the sock was closest and I wrapped it up in there like a little mousey-burrito and tried to get dressed (with one hand) enough to walk to the patio to let it go while not squeezing the remaining life out of it. My x-ray vision doesn't work that early, so I could not confirm any internal injuries. I pet it and touched it's little feet, it squeaked; good enough for me. Cute little bugger... just not in my bedroom, if you please.

Weather is gradually warming up and 95% of the visible ice and snow on Lake Erie has melted! [enter backflip here] Today was warm and sunny and I had my windows down in the car with the music blasting - singing, of course, off key! How wonderful that felt! WooHoo! There is something liberating about that. Unless of course the music is up too loud and you don't hear the sirens of the police officer behind you trying to pull you over. Eh, the police force for the county I work in just dropped from something like 33 to 12 - seriously. I think I'll be safe... they need more revenue than I can provide. Sun makes me so happy. And silly. I love it!

Checked out a few new blogs lately, really enjoying seeing what these people are about. Or at least enjoying it for what it's worth. I'm always grateful for the time people take to maintain their blogs. No matter the topic, it still gives me an idea of a new person and things that may be totally foreign to me. Then there's the joy of spotting the ones that are like a clone of you...{spooky music}

So I'm off to read my book, which is just a trip, by the way... hopefully I'll put it down of my own accord tonight instead of waking up with part of a page plastered to my cornea. We'll see.

Nothing Less, Nothing More

Well boys and girls, this little ol' LiVEwiRe is getting a little out of control. Or maybe it's actually IN control, difficult to determine...

Ok, we're beginning the part of the game where I say things and you act remotely interested and make fabulous comments about my insightful and never-ending wisdom... ::::cough::::

I have been so fired up lately that it is getting difficult to contain. By fired up, I mean pretty much every thing you can think of that fits that phrase. My temper has remained at a fairly normal level (for me) yet the speed with which I go from calm to 'foot-up-your-ass' has dramatically and frighteningly (only if you are on the receiving end) increased. I've been known to have others tread lightly when around me at times due to the fact that they don't know what to expect and I think I'm heading into one of those times. My gears appear stripped and lodged to one single setting. In another sense, I've been mouthing off in another way. Um, I've been 'slightly' forward about certain lewd and lascivious thoughts and ideas that have been entering my mind. And it is just getting worse. Or better, depending who you are. ; ) Every word flows out with the utmost of passion, and it's exactly what I am thinking and feeling. Then of course, I second guess myself. The filter between my brain and mouth is on the fritz and the filters between my brain and nether regions are obviously enjoying this deliciously seductive encounter. :::sigh:::

Tomorrow is back to work for me as I've just had 2 days off. I hope I can control these outbursts. Or not. It has the potential to be a very good day considering my mood or a rather scary day considering my mood... oh the sinful possibilities! Care to place a bet?!

Please... step away from the keyboard...

So life is grand and I'm livin' la vida loca. Or something like that...

Spent a few days in a bit of a funk and decided I really didn't like it there. Honestly - it sucked. I've been having some wonderful conversations, reading an imaginative (albeit snot and saliva laden) book, learning new things and above all, listening to some incredible music. And speaking of music, check out the music link on the sidebar; it'll only take a minute. These may sound like simple things, and they are, but they are good things. Things I crave.

I can't help but wonder where this feeling fits in, though.... I keep thinking that I'd like to hop nude into a tub of paint or better yet, have someone paint directly on me then roll around on a canvas. Suppose I should consider acrylics as opposed to oils for this venture. And a very large canvas. I think it's just about a part of me that I've been pushing down that really wants to express itself. Yeah, I know... the mentally unstable exhibitionist side...lol. Your spirit can get tamped down without you even realizing it and I think this is a way that my mind is telling me to take notice. All of the little things I mentioned above seem to have gathered together to remind me that I do indeed have a lively, saucy side.

I've been apologizing for things I haven't done and quite frankly, even if I have done some of them... who cares? It's not like it's the downfall of civilization as we know it! I'm having fun and hope that I can share a little of that fun with those I come into contact with.

So now I'm getting back into true LiVEwiRe mode... now where are those paint brushes...

Will the Redhead in the Back Row Please Shut the Hell Up?!

Perhaps it is the time of season - warm weather is approaching, green is slowly appearing, the days are growing longer... Ok, well, I'd like to be able to link it to that, but I'd be in some serious denial. The problem I'm referring to is the one where no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to keep my big mouth shut...

Maybe I can blame planetary alignment. I've been getting myself into situations that I'd rather avoid and consequently being left out of some situations that I'd rather get into. (Does that even make a little sense?) My foot seems to be rather intimately drawn to my mouth lately. It's kind of funny in a dark, emotionally twisted sort of way... the people I don't mean to offend are ultimately the ones I offend. Or frighten away. Then, the ones I wouldn't mind offending, seem to line up for more. Perhaps I can blame it on the tide... yeah, the tide.

From moment to moment, I seem to lose more of my filter. At times, it's like I have absolutely NO internal monologue! Did my urgency of speech suddenly revert back to what it was when I was 4 or 5?! Oh sure, it's 'cute' when a kid says something untamed but at the age of 34, I fear it comes across more along the lines of 'disturbing'. I know... clowns! I'll blame clowns... hate the menacing bastards anyway...

Don't misunderstand, I'm all for saying what is on your mind, even at the risk of (gasp) not fitting in. This is different, though, in the way that I suspect I'm pushing people away a little bit and I can't seem to catch it as I'm doing it. Or better yet, before I do it. It's always that damned hindsight that is so keen, isn't it? It's just difficult to see someone recoil (even tactfully) and knowing that had you been more mindful of your own actions, things might not be this way. Then again, maybe it would - hard to say, really. Either way, it is really bothering me.

I've got it... I'll blame Dubya. (We have a winner folks!)

I've got to find the place where I took the wrong turn. I've always been pretty much left of center, rather outgoing and outspoken. Combine that with a vivid imagination, bipolar disorder, and having a lot to say about nothing in particular and the stamina with which to carry it out and it is a form of mayhem all it's own. But it is my mayhem, and I like it. Usually. I'm just not sure what triggered my lack of filter lately. I'm confident that I'll figure it out but I'd like to do it before I hurt anyone else's feeling, piss more people off, acquire a creepy fan-base, or generally offend someone else with comments taken out of context.

Of course, I can't be too quiet... no one would recognize me! =)

I'm an idiot...

For any nice positive thing that anyone may have ever said about me - just take it back now. I am a total fucking idiot. "Why?", you ask? Oh there are many reasons. I simply can't seem to control myself. Perhaps this is why I shouldn't drink. Or put myself within range of other humans for that matter. I hurt them and I hurt me. I don't mean to, it just happens.

And let me just vent about one thing for a moment. Indulge me, ok? I went to my friend's boyfriend's house and we had a bonfire, beer, and visiting friends and neighbors. One of the neighbors mistook my friendliness and mannerisms as way more than that and ended up hitting on me with the proverbial 'sledgehammer'. Shit. Apparently everyone there knew of his intentions by the time I was ready to leave - he had been telling everyone that I was 'really something special' and that he'd 'do me'. Lovely; that's really special. I thought he was fun up until that point - then I immediately dropped all contact. When I left, he gave me the 'secret' 1985 handshake that tells you that someone wants you without actually using the words. Ew. If you aren't sure what that is, ask someone. And promise me you'll never do it. Anyway, I just met the guy. Furthermore, he's married! Let me just take this moment to say that there is only one married guy that I know of that I feel any kind of attraction to, and it is purely cerebral. Nothing more. This fucker ended up making me feel like a bit of a whore. That was not my intention nor do I plan on editing my personality in the future to avoid such lowlife. What a penis. I hate the fact that I let it bother me so much. There is a certain portion of my stomach that is churning at the moment and it has 'beer' and 'stupid married guy' written all over it. I actually feel filthy.

These are beer-fueled words but they are true words. I do not lead people on with unrealistic expectations. I have not done anything wrong. Yet some inbred excuse for a man has decided that he can club me over the head, drag me to his cave, and make me his own for a night. Fuck him. And fuck every guy out there that has the same pathetic mentality. Thanks asshole, for ruining what started out as a fun evening. You have just succeeded in adding another layer to the wall that I keep around me.

He is the reason I am reluctant to let my guard down. Bastard. I need a shower...

Oh the horror!

Has Blogger been pissing you off, too? I'm incredibly frustrated by this. When I had the time to post yesterday, it denied me. How DARE it! Argh!

Anyway... I made it through my first two lectures! I had about a 2 minute time frame where I was trying to nestle into the role comfortably. After that it was smooth sailing. I had the ability to talk about something important to me and, well, I can talk the bark off a tree anyway... it was a good combination. The students (both day and night classes) had so many questions, and I actually felt helpful! It was a good experience.

Which brings me to the next thing... she wants me to do this at least once per quarter! Oh, 'she' is Mrs. V - my fabulous former instructor. Everything was made official, the students all had to evaluate me and Mrs. V really is convinced I should teach. She told me that she knows her current students well enough and they were absolutely hanging on my every word. Wow. Kind of cool, kind of weird. According to her I have a 'presence'. It's all very flattering (so that means I don't really know what to make of it) but I'm just glad it helped them and gave them things to consider for getting out into the world of pharmacy along with a realistic depiction of it. After all, I am not the kind to blow sunshine up anyone's ass.

I'm reading a new book. I love to read - I have nerd tendencies (proudly). The one thing I can say about this book is that I have never known an author (or any individual) to be so enthralled by bodily secretions, especially those from the nose and mouth. Serious, serious focus on that. But one character in particular has captured my interest, pity, and my sympathy... so there is no turning back. I'm willing to trudge through 710 pages of mucus-filled musings for this one character. Something tells me it'll be well worth it.

Off for a glimpse into Snotfest 2005. Oh, I mean, I'm going to read for a while... good night. =)

It's been ages!

Hey all you cool cats out there in BlogLand....

Yes, I know I'm an ass (see above)... no need to point out the obvious. Been sick and busy - how fun is THAT? Jealous, eh?

So tomorrow I have to give my 'talks' or 'lectures' or whatever you want to call them. Good thing is that they are at least 18 years of age and I doubt I can be sued if I swear like a sailor in front of them. I won't try to offend - I'll be on my best behavior! Come to think of it, that's really not too good... Oh well. I'm over it. I have nothing prepared... past the part where I tell them my name, title, and that I am not in any way representing my employer. I feel more comfortable this way, though... and for me it is soooo much less pressure. Honestly, I know I can keep their interest. If all else fails, I'll flash them or something. I'm pretty excited about it.

So we got another winter storm... um... ARE WE DONE YET? This really sucks. Every year I talk about moving to a more constant, mild climate and every Spring I sit here bitching because I didn't. Anyone living in a fabulously mild climate care to tell me where it is so I can move there, too?

Well, off to work in the dungeon... at least I'm in the IV room tonight. I love being in there... plus I get to have my music on and sing way off key becuase the vent system is quite loud in there. Oh, well I hope it's as loud as I think it is... otherwise I've been belting out off key lyrics for a couple of years and no one has bothered to tell me.

If you see a headline reading, "Guest lecturer arrested for indecent exposure... gets asked back for second lecture"... that would be me! =)