I'll take "Reasons You Wear Vinyl Underpants" for $500 please, Alex...

WooHoo! It's the Daily Double!... Spank me Alex, er... or is it 'hit me'?...

Brace yourself... I, Miss Gloom & Doom of late, was in a good mood today.

{murmur, mumble mumble, murmur...}

So anyway, there I was just minding my own business when this jovial Korean man began fondling my breast. I swear. I do not lie about breast fondling. He must have had a thing for symmetry because next thing I know... his fickle digits found their way to the left one! As if the right one wasn't enough... hmmmpf! Then the blonde chick gets in on the action; watching, taking notes. If this wasn't my annual gyn appointment, the note taking would have really made me uncomfortable, let me tell you! Heh, sorry. Anyway, most of the reason I'm in such a good mood is that the appointment is over for another year. {Male readers - it is the equivalent of 'turn your head and cough' with an added 10 minutes of various violation. And someone hanging around to watch and take notes.} Eh, at least his hands were warm.

Upon leaving the aforementioned sex den, I found that someone had turned the thermostat up by about 10 degrees and it was now officially hot as piss. No really, I think it was in the mid 90s which would be near the official temperature of... Oh forget it. Anyway, I was having some time to myself and just felt so elated to be done with the appointment that I opted to slip in a mix CD (although I only listened to 3 songs the whole time. Over. And over...), crank the bitch up, and set off along a more scenic, relaxed route. Cold beverage nestled close, AC on, windows part way down and me not just singing, but car dancing as well folks. I had fun with nearby cars, too. Well, more their drivers than the cars themselves. I love singing to people. They want to disappear, but I think it's funny to see their reaction, they are trapped after all. One song I mainly listened to was called Hammer In My Hand by Grady (headed by Gordie(Grady) Johnson of Big Sugar); this took up the majority of my musical efforts. It is rough, gritty and soulful and an absolute dream to a motorist serenader such as myself. You can download that song free off the site... at least check it out and it might inspire you to do a little serenading yourself. I can't decide whether it's a bit sad that I'm this easily and oddly amused or funny as hell. Either way, I had a great time.

Here's something that you wouldn't think would put anyone in mind of a good mood, but hey... this is me we're talking about and I see things a bit differently sometimes. Well, within 12 hours of each other (if that), I learned of the death of two friends. One was my friend's mother Florence. She was very old (96) and led a magnificent life. Her husband was an instructor at the Pratt Institute and for a while she led what I call the Martha Stewart lifestyle (pre incarceration), complete with culture and afternoon tea. The second death was my friend Tony who was in his very early 40s. He was in a motorcycle accident a couple of weeks ago and never fully came out of the coma. His name to all his biker friends was Psycho, and well, it's not a total lie. We'd sit and drink and talk about hockey and have a blast. He was all about enjoying things, which he did until his last moments. The reason this makes me smile is not that they're dead, but that they actually lived! They did what made them happy and although they were opposites, in that one respect they had a sort of parallel going on. I smiled knowing that they both, in their own ways, are an inspiration. Dying is the easy part... knowing how to live and having the courage to do it really takes balls. Hats off to you both.

Just a last thought; thanks to everyone who left me a comment on the last post and to those the emailed me. Some of you made me laugh like hell when I thought I couldn't and some of you made me think of things I needed to face. Thanks to every one of you... and look! It worked! I'm better today - cured, healed! Well, it was either that or the breast fondling...
~.

I'm all surrounded...

...by the things I thought I'd put away.

There's a pile in the closet; that's where I threw some yesterdays. I thought I heard them say "come out with your hands up - so we can blow you away." And then I walked out the door, to get blown wide open, by the things I put away. I'm all surrounded... (Ian Thornley)


I feel as if I'm snarling, raw, and lashing out from some intangible corner I've found myself backed into, making a sort of futile attempt to rescue the parts of me that were abandoned and left to drift long, long ago. Overall, not an easy thing to do.

At times, I yearn for an understanding word, a knowing, comforting look. Yet I manage to sabotage that. Either in reality or in my head, which is basically the same thing. If a hand reaches for me in friendship, love, anything... I am just as apt to pounce and draw blood as I am to accept it; even moreso, actually. I make my doubts and fears their doubts and fears. At least in my eyes.

I don't know how to fix this. I'm reaching the point in several areas of my life where I've started lashing out and making people undeserving victims of my own dark, uncertain feelings. People I'd never want to hurt. But I can feel it. I push as far as I can and push so hard that they most often get pushed right out of my life. I've learned that in my own twisted little way, it is a coping mechanism, albeit a poor one. If I push them enough, they'll say "That LiVEwIRe is such a bitch; I don't need this...". And they are right. And I've succeeded in hurting them as a safety precaution... if I offend them, they'll leave and in turn, will not have the opportunity to hurt me. Nor I them. I feel that I am actually bestowing a kindness on them by using this 'gentle' method. Saving us both from impending doom. In the end, I'm forcing what I fear.

How fucked is this? I know, I'm not giving them the chance to be who they are, I am judging them on no pertinent basis, I am an idiot. I know all of this. And believe it or not, I am an intelligent, caring person that would do absolutely anything for you. Somewhere along the line, some wires got crossed and I don't have any rewiring skills tucked away anywhere. Or the wiring is obsolete... not sure.

So here I sit, morphing into this fearful, exposed nerve. I show my gratitude to others by resenting the fact that they are showing me the love and kindness I so want; just waiting for the slightest sign (which is in all actuality 'nothing') to slip on the mask of a snarling beast. I've gotten rather good at this with years of practice. Most often I don't see it coming until the weight of it falls completely. No one else sees it coming either. I'm so ashamed of this behavior that I've found a way to hide it until the last possible moment. Then it's all done for anyway.

I am tired of possessing the ability to be so hurtful, even though I know I do it to prevent hurting or being hurt... yes, I know that doesn't make sense. Somewhere though, I must be convinced that it does. I have truthfully come to believe that my harsh control is the equivalent of compassion. This is a small part of me that is typically hidden and rarely surfaces but I feel it looming and it scares the hell out of me.

The last few weeks have been trying in this arena, to say the least. If my chest doesn't either explode or implode from the pressure, I'll be amazed. This is just not the 'me' I usually am. I am usually justifiably happy or sad, I love and cry, I swear at poor drivers and really follow my own lead. I can find something to laugh about just about anywhere and my smile is mere nanoseconds from erupting at any given moment.

But this overwhelming feeling... it's too much. It's become some sort of pathetic self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts and it is exacting too high a toll. I'm tired of being scared and punishing others as a result from my gloomy little corner.

This isn't me. It's a part of me, of that there's no doubt, but it is taking over. That's not what I'd refer to as a 'life'. It's got to stop, soon; somehow.

Let's Boogie!

Let go of that squirrel's nuts!

I've just got to... I'm terribly, terribly weak...

Three little weeks until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory opens. I have lovingly and thoughtfully provided the link to the new theatrical trailer; however, you will actually be required to click on the one that says... come on, say it with me... theatrical trailer - very nice! It's 2.5 minutes of Tim Burton's skewed and idiosyncratic view of this classic and Johnny Depp's velvet enshrouded eccentricities brought together with some pretty kick ass color saturation techniques.

Lots of sarcasm and disdain where the kiddies are concerned... what could be better?! Although I will admit that the actor that plays Charlie (Freddie Highmore) has more talent in his prepubescent little finger than many other popular actors house in their entire being. That's just my opinion.

We all know I'm interested mainly due to a particularly pallid gent with a top hat. Burton is wonderful, but I'd be lying if I denied my true attraction to the film.

Now... off to make a paper chain.... {skips off singing: Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka...}

Never Say Never

Isn't that what they always say?

So it wasn't long ago that I said I didn't want to be 'tagged' by anyone because I'd feel the pressure to succumb and participate. Well, I've been tagged by a wonderful girl we all know as Justrose and am therefore making an exception. She is a caring, introspective, funloving woman that I am happy to have the chance to get to know. Her remarkable ability to write posts to make you laugh as well as reflect on more important things is able to be seen right around the corner here, at Anonymous Rowhouse. She is worth getting to know. Listen carefully; she can teach you alot. Oh, and as a friendly gesture... bring her some chocolate when you drop by! As for me - homework time...

A Lifetime

10 years ago: I was working at Sea World of Ohio, loving life. I was one of a limited group that worked year round and therefore got to participate in things most employees never did. Yes, I pet Shamu. Yes, I got snorted on by a walrus. I forged relationships with sea lions during lunch breaks and spent time in dolphin training sessions.

5 years ago: That was the heyday of my bar hopping days. Too many drinks, lots of stupid actions, tons of foggy laughter. Self-medicating at it's best.

1 year ago: Basically, the same thing as I am now; yet somehow different. It seems like it was a lifetime ago. I seemed happier then.

Yesterday: Finding out I needed a gold filling. Perhaps this will branch to encompass a new career as a pirate.

Today: I spent a ridiculously enormous amount of time grinning like the village idiot. I got a sort of surprise call from a friend and it meant alot. Maybe more than they know; hence the stupified look of a village idiot. =)

Tomorrow: Preparing to work for the next 5 days, 'playing' on here a bit, and hopefully conveying a few well-deserved thank yous.

5 snacks I enjoy: Salsa! Oh, with lightly salted chips, I suppose. Frozen grapes/watermelon, cheese (preferably smoked gouda), crunchy granola bars and iced Frappuccinos! Is that 5?

5 songs I know all the words to: The Messenger (The Tea Party), Diggin' a Hole (Big Sugar), Easy Comes (Thornley), Prime Time Deliverance (Matthew Good Band), One Day All This Could Be Yours (Oceansize).

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: Count it...lol. Nah, not sure I can count that high. Even though we don't get along that well, I'd give my family whatever amount they needed, invest, donate anonymously, plan a trip/bash for a group of people I like... perhaps some are reading this, then, I'd travel the world... every single nook and cranny that has ever interested me. I'd see it all. With the investment earnings I'd buy a Democrat for the White House.

5 locations I'd like to run away to: This is all based on pictures, failed plans and dreams; nowhere I've ever been but places I'd want to be nonetheless. Bermuda, Hermanus, Prague, Madagascar, Ireland/UK. If my plan above works, this should be no problem! =)

5 bad habits I have: Sheesh, only 5? Procrastination, ideas of infallibility mirrored by a theme of self-condemnation, disorganization, emotional lability.

5 things I like doing: Reading, writing, imagining, listening to music, finding fun in the silliest of things and actually not being too 'adult' to laugh about it.

5 things I would never wear: Hot pants (consider yourselves all very fortunate), stillettos (I'd kill myself - kind of takes away from the intended idea), patchouli (ick - smells like potting soil), real fur (gross), super low rise pants (various reasons). I wanted to add 'my heart on my sleeve', but I have a habit of doing it, then yanking it away, then wearing it there... so I couldn't actually say it.

5 T.V. shows I like: House (love it!), Will & Grace, and the rest is all medical docu-drama or something else on the Discovery channel IF I watch anything...

5 movies I like: Kill Me Later, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Very Bad Things, Edward Scissorhands, and Heartbreakers.

5 famous people I'd like to meet: Einstein, Walter Cronkite, Oscar Wilde, Woody Allen and Bugs Bunny. Shut up, I know he's a cartoon. heh heh...

5 biggest joys at the moment: A couple of newly forged friendships and just friends in general (I'm counting that as one thing), my freedom (I do try to remember this daily), having Benny home, my silly sense of humor, oh, and almost losing my shorts yesterday!

5 favorite toys: Oh, could I ever take this in a totally different direction...ahem. As a kid? Then it included a Lite-Brite, drawing paper and books. Now? It includes the internet, books, music and writing paper. Not much of a difference? Wow; I am a nerd.


5 people to tag: I know who I want to see answer these, but I'm not going to ask them. If you're asking, 'I wonder if she means me?'... I probably do. I would like to see some folks take a shot at this though because it really makes you think about different things... not your top 3 favorite pickles, or your old high school locker combination, etc...


So that's all for my homework tonight.... =)

Arrrggh Mateys!!!

Today I learned that it is my destiny (or is that density...) to become a pirate. Ok, so not a real pirate perhaps, but I will have my own share of gold...

Yes, I too often wonder what in the hell I'm talking about. Here's the scoop. Lost a filling, went to the dentist to get it replaced, easy right? Heh... "easy"; funny concept. I learned that because of the fact that I grind my teeth so intensely and have, well, basically since I've had teeth, that I pulverized the once cozy filling and cracked the back of the same tooth.

Here's a few fun facts:

• I did this within a month; that's when I had my cleaning and exam - a month ago.
• I am wearing through enamel and into the dentin which means that one day I'm going to look like one of those little old tribal elders in National Geographic that sits on a log gnawing on bone, hide and rock. Nice.
• Due to the incredible force my jaws are capable of exerting I can no longer utilize the fillings most humans use. I must use gold. That's right, the 'big Au' itself. After my dental insurance pays, I'll still owe between $350 and $400. For one single filling.
• I may never again be able to have regular fillings and therefore have to look forward to the possibility of getting mugged for the inner workings of my teeth. Hoo-friggin-rah!

This really is kind of laughable. I don't spend that amount of money on myself for much of anything let alone one single filling. I asked my dentist if he could just melt down an old ring I have and cram it in there. He was not amused. The way I see it, I have a plan to take care of this expense and any related future expenses. Since I have jaws that are able to produce somewhere over 78 million ppsi, I'm slipping coal in there tonight... I should wake up with diamonds if my calculations are correct. I didn't tell him this idea either. Sheesh, I'm getting crunk teeth and he's not amused? Pffft...

Here's another little fun thought... I was joking with a friend about my activity du jour having something to do with sauntering naked through the streets. (Note to self: never, ever say things like that, even in jest...) On my way out to the mailbox, my shorts almost fell. And I mean almost fell off. As I walked closer to the road, I could feel them sort of sliding down but I didn't really do anything about it. No, I'm not stupid... common sense would dictate that one would select that as the opportune moment to pull them up. I suppose I didn't realize how big they were on me since I've lost weight until they almost ensnared my unsuspecting feet! I think I was simply in awe that some article of clothing had made it over my curvy hips and (not-quite-as) ample behind without any assistance!!! So there was surprise, shock, and a damn fine recovery... caught 'em just before I was about to share the goods with the world. Alarmed viewers would've been forced to poke out their mind's eye.

One final thing... I got a present today! Yay! It was completely unexpected. A friend that I used to work with sent me "a little care package" as she called it. She sent me several gifts from her vacation in Mexico (tee, tote, bracelet), a makeup bag filled with Lancome and Chanel makeup (perhaps she's trying to give me a hint?), several items for my house and a couple other 'girly' things. There's tons of stuff and I'm the only one who really cares to know what it all is, but you get the idea. It's kind of funny really, I put up such a fuss if someone wants to give me/buy me something or even if they just want to do something nice for me. Somehow this silly blonde friend has managed to find a way to fly under the radar. Maybe she knows that this method is easier than fighting with me over the topic! Know what? It made me feel so special today and I only protested a few times (to no one in particular) about the gift so that must mean that I was actually willing to accept it! I'm so grateful that she is my friend and that she seems to have this way of knowing when I need a little pick-me-up the most. If you've read this far, go do something nice for a friend. Or a stranger for that matter. There is always a reason for someone to be deserving.

The post that shouldn't be...

For some reason I got an overwhelming urge to write this, so I am. It's not planned and I have no idea what will be said, but if I don't address this, I'll suffer some form of emotional anguish and I'm just not up for that today.

I heard today that it is Father's Day. Since my grandfather passed away in 1991, that has meant nothing to me. I miss him and don't need a day to remind me of it. I thank the powers that be for him and that he was always there for me, in his quiet, stubborn eastern European way. For as much as I loved him and still miss him, I've never dreamed of him, which really bothers me.

That being said. I hate Father's Day. It reminds me of things that should remain long forgotten. Things that are wrong on so many levels yet are a part of my shaky foundation. The few memories I have of my father are not good. Actually, that is an understatement. They are things that never should have been. Then there are the things that I witnessed, yet was too young to know what they meant. There was no way for me to categorize it into a memory so there is a part of me that has those moments floating in a jar of formaldehyde somewhere inside; I can see them, yet can't really get to them. And other than for morbid curiosity, I don't want to get to them.

He is the reason that, for my entire life, I have hated Rocky & Bullwinkle, doors that don't lock, having someone sneak up behind me and grab me, being held too tightly, guns that aren't in my hand, and orange vinyl chairs. He is also the reason that as a little girl I moved well over 20 times. For the record, I'm up to 39 times now. I think I still keep running.

After I was 4 1/2, I never saw him again. About 7 years ago I got a letter from him. Out of nowhere. I panicked and never responded. After twenty-odd years of avoidance he'd found me. In the process I learned that he'd also had me trailed for years, obtaining info, pictures, and odd bits here and there. I never once knew this. I was being followed by a friend of my fathers that lived in the general vicinity and never once knew. He sounded like a guy that wanted to learn about his child, even though I found it a bit unsettling. Most importantly, he sounded just like a normal guy. Not at all what I had remembered, although that was a long time ago. He had a new life and wanted me to share in it. He wrote again and I ignored it out of fear and uncertainty. I was so confused. And I learned I have a half-sister and half-brother. But I'm an only child...

Then I received a letter that he committed suicide, just as his mother had years before. I spoke to the woman that was about to be my stepmother... they were to marry a few years ago in October and he'd killed himself in June. We talked on the phone briefly and exchanged a letter. He and I shared so many personality traits; the ups and downs, the open and giving side, the scared introverted side, incredible stubbornness and a deep vulnerability - all shown within a few moments of one another. I finally learned where that part of me came from.

My entire life I grew up hating the things he had done and not missing him in the least. I could do that because there was nothing for me to attach it to. Until I got the letters. Especially the final letter. I spent so much time trying to protect myself from what could have happened based on what had happened in the past. In a way, that is wise. On the other hand, I am fully responsible for obliterating the possibility of ever having known my father and have only myself to blame for that. I think I still try to protect myself in that manner to this day. You'd think I'd have learned from this that you can't always protect yourself and sometimes you sever all possibilities in taking that route. It's hard though, to separate what I felt as a child and what I feel as an adult now.

The things he did were wretched and I'll never really forgive it so to speak. Not because I'm heartless or want to make myself feel extended pain, but because it's what I felt as a child, the opinions I formed are based on the level of a young girl. I'd equate it to trying to take the eggs out of a baked cake. That forgiveness may be elusive but I think I feel some understanding, or at least the willingness to try to understand. Either way, the real opportunity has passed. Once again, any information I get will be someone else's interpretation of the man he was. I am no further ahead and any answers are all supposition and result in further query anyway. Even in death, nothing is final, is it?

I guess it's true when they say dead men tall no tales. Happy Father's Day William. I just can't bring myself to call you 'dad'... not even after all this time.

Breathe

From the moment I heard this song, it has really grabbed me by the proverbial balls and nailed me to the wall. The lyrics are powerful and just so damn truthful. I have taken the liberty of italicizing my favorite lines. I've no idea why because you probably don't care much... but just check it out. If you aren't familiar with the song, here's a link to Anna Nalick's site. Follow down the body on the right side and it will let you select which player you want to use to hear the song. I've found it easier with WMP although I can't get the video to work, only the audio directly below.

I know nothing of this artist other than this song had me literally sobbing this morning in bed.

Anna Nalick - Breathe (2am)

2am and she calls me cause I'm still awake
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake
I don't love him and winter just wasn't my season.
Yea we walk through the doors so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize
Hypocrites you're all here for the very same reason.

Cause you can't jump the track
We're like cars on a cable
and life's like an hourglass glued to the table,
No one can find the rewind button girl
so just cradle your head in your hands.
And breathe, just breathe, whoa breathe just breathe

May he turned 21 on the base of Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist
Ain't been sober since maybe October of last year
Here in town you can tell he's been down for while
But my God it's so beautiful when the boy smiles
Wanna hold him but maybe I'll just sing about it

Cause you can't jump the track
We're like cars on a cable
and life's like an hourglass glued to the table,
No one can find the rewind button boys
so cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe, whoa breath just breathe

There's a light at each end of this tunnel you shout
Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made
You'll just make them again if you'll only try turnin' around

2am and I'm still awake writing this song
If i get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me
threaten' the life it belongs to.
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary screamin' out aloud
And I know that you'll use them however you want to.

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass glued to the table,
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand...yeah breath Just breathe, oh breathe.

Intervention - STAT!

I'm trying to identify the defining moment but I'm not sure if there was just one. I'm beginning to think that this feeling has been sidling closer and closer, unbeknownst to me, until the day came not so long ago when I felt a heavy, unsettling pall cast a shadow across my path. It hasn't lifted since. Conversely, it has bought other shadowy friends.

The moment I'm trying to define is when exactly I stopped liking my job. There are huge changes going on but I don't think that is the reason for my discontent. This is a bit of a twist on the typical job gripe and I would be grateful for any light you could shed. It's a tough one because I work in a hospital and I am a Certified Pharmacy Technician. This is a position with great responsibility and my uncertainty toward it cannot be taken lightly. Little more than two months ago I was giving several 'talks' to the current students at the school I attended for my CPhT education. I was bouncing off the walls with excitement explaining what I did as part of my job. Honestly, I think that my enthusiasm and willingness to so openly display my responsibilities was the beginning of the end. I had to personally scrutinize every aspect of it.

Even though I knew it before, it made me take notice of how people's lives were being placed in my hands on a daily basis, especially making IVs and TPNs for the most ill patients. My Pharmacists trust what I do and my accuracy is highly regarded; but I feel like it isn't enough. What if my accuracy fails one day and something I do contributes to a set back - or worse. When I go on rounds and see these patients, especially the elderly, pediatric or long term ones, I feel so inadequate. I see a void called vulnerability in their eyes. I put on my happy smile and continue but cannot help realizing that I am helping to fill that void. The only problem is, will it be enough? They smile weakly, I return with a kind and warm smile. They see me with the meds and IVs and they know that even though it might be a hassle, or painful, or nauseating, the meds will help and I can see that in their eyes. It's hope. Goddamned hope! Right there on my med cart. But the problem is that I can't see it like that anymore. To me, that hope is at the far end of a tunnel and pulling away fast. But I can't let anyone see that so I feel like a hypocrite. I feel like it's either lie to them or lie to myself. I suppose I'm choosing to lie to myself.

Let's flash back, oh... 14 years or so. I worked in a hospital in Pittsburgh, PA as a temp filling in for someone in the lab. I fell into this job and had none of the qualifications they were looking for. Other than a pulse. After a 10 minute conversation with the head Pathologist, he wanted me there (I must've been a real charmer!) and so I stayed for several months. So there I was, a recent art school grad looking for related work ending up in the lab of a teaching hospital for the University of Pittsburgh (Pitt). Out on rounds one day I heard the most plaintive, desperate little sound. I could hear it growing louder and louder but there were no nurses near so I approached the door where the the sound was emanating from. Here was a confused, frightened, most likely sedated little old lady crying out that she didn't want to die. Over and over and over, just rocking gently. She quieted down and I almost had a thorough meltdown. I'd never felt so helpless regarding another human being. Being the foolish 19 or 20 year old that I was at the time, I went to the shop, bought a beautiful blank card and took it back to the lab with me. I searched for her name and wrote her a card. It was nothing brilliant - I didn't know her, but I sure knew she didn't want to die. I'm sure it was just a line or two but it was just to convey a simple thought that tucked away in her fear and illness, someone cared about her. Even though it was just me and I didn't know her, I couldn't let her think she was alone. I quietly placed the card at her bedside table on my next round without anyone seeing. Although I did whisper something to her; she is the only one, other than me, that knows what it was. I hope on some level she understood. [And so began my on-again off-again career in the medical field.]

Back to present day. I am feeling that same kind of helpless feeling again. Maybe the gods mock me and wonder when I'll finally catch on, perhaps it's general stress creeping up, or it could be that someone like me is exactly what the patients need... someone to view them as people; not account numbers, the '10am rounds', room 212-1, or any number of non-entity kinds of indentifiers. I take what I do seriously and how I do it even moreso. Something is shifting though, and I am feeling that helplessness again and that triggers distancing. But I can't do my job like that and I really don't know what to do about it all. If anyone has bothered to read this saga, I would like to hear any suggestions or input you may be able to provide. I obviously need some help with this one.

Yawn...

Has anyone seen my sensibility?....

I really wanted to post something today but I am exhausted. I mean, post something more than this...

Arguing with everyone. Alot. Perhaps if I sleep more I'll argue less.

Making really inappropriate (often sexual) comments. The looks I get after one of those comments is similar (I'd suppose) to the looks an amish girl would get after flashing her boobs. Perhaps if I sleep more I'll 'comment' less.

Loving you, hating you, tolerating you.... lying about it either way. Perhaps if I sleep more I'll lie less.

All options and stimuli seem to lead to the same thing. Shitty decisions and apathy. Perhaps if I...

Hell with it.... I'm shutting this thing off and getting some sleep.

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...