Swimmin' hole

Hello friends.

Things have been crazy and jumbled. Busy. It's summer! I think I am one of those free spirits. Compulsive free spirits, but a free one at that. I have these raging lists in my head for the rest of the summer. Things like, having a fried chicken picnic with B. Swimming, even though I am not a great swimmer. I am, a fabulous dog paddler. I am just that fancy. I have been writing a list of places I want to go. I am saving money, but I am spending at the same time. I am switching the boys to their own baby beds. Which is tough. Those fellers are my babes. A sense of wonderful security. I am in control of my allergies. I am working on to have a handle of my emotions. Appreciating my Daddy and Mama. Missing the time I could have spent with, well, anyone. Stepping in and out of the shadows, and trying to facilitate myself into better situations. Praying for God's goodness. Understanding the lessons. Learning to play golf. AT LEAST TO CONNECT WITH THE BALL. I am cooking. A lot. And, I think I'm pretty good at at. Reading. I mean, really reading. Reading things that don't ultimately interest me. I just long for self-improvement. I have been listening to more classic rock, so there I am. Living without air conditioning in the car. Thankful it's not my home. We would just have to abandon the place, or at least leave a sign on the door: GONE FISHIN'......

B is doing his best to push me, at least this is the discussion before church yesterday. I had already been up since the crack of dawn and since church has a late service at 11:45, this is the one we sashayed into. We were all talky, excited, and silly. Then B asks me questions. Let's get this right. B doesn't just ask questions. B asks questions with such intensity because he is living to understand. It's pure genius, downright maniacal. B told me that the reason he pushed me so hard is because he knows that I have a lot in me, and would love to hear about all of it! that made me smile, and I feel loved! He wants me to get to the root of things, and really discuss things. I don't have to agree with him, which is nice. I just have to form my own opinion, and stand rooted in my belief. What a nice feature on a friend. He just wants to get it. Other than his other observation with me is that you can be close to me and be like a mushroom. Take a lot of shit and be left in the dark. This only happens because once I am done with something mentally, I have literally washed my hands of it, and put it out of my head. I try not to be too stinky on him. Ya know, wear skirts. Keep him focused. Until we are back in the closet in the bedroom together and being questioned like a silly house cat.

Back on some kind of subject. I saw this show about a lobster. Well, the show wasn't about the lobster, but I made this lobster the star of the show. And it only took 28 minutes. It was so and so's show, and she had already made her way back to California or wherever. Her buddies had stayed behind and had a drunken night in Mexico. Which is great and fine. One of the buddies steals the lobster out of the tank. Takes it to the beach. Runs with this lobster. In his hands. Running and lobster holding doesn't sound like a great comedy team. It makes me think of running with scissors, and heavy death metal. The buddy, with the lobster, ends up at the shore and is laughing like drunk buddies do, trying to set this thing free. Buddy, throws Mr. Man lobster like a rock. Buddy, satisfied with his efforts in saving the lobsters, probably killed this thing. 28 minutes to find this out. To find out this helpless lobster, that would have been more than satisfied to live his life to the fullest, providing that whole circle of life thing..... Being boiled alive and eaten. This was his God given right. Who am I to ramble on about lobsters? Really nobody, but I even screamed at the TV - TAKE THE RUBBER BANDS OFF!!! If Mr. Man Lobster did survive, do you think he had one of his buddies, to snip him free? No, because he's a sea creature, and they don't know anything but survival. If there hasn't been a lesson in all this, please don't let drunk buddies throw purpose driven lobsters back into the wild.......

The sun is shining, so why the clouds?

Dearest, here it is. The middle of the day. Most of my house sitting/birdwatching/dog sitting/injecting cats with insulin tour of duty is almost over. I am relieved. I'm tired. I'm ready. I live in and out of hat boxes, and I have for the past 12 years. Before I had my dogs and step brothers, there I was. Like a hobo. Wanna go dance all night and sleep in the car until work begins? Sure. Listen, I wanna drink margaritas (I mean, not get drunk) and watch the sun come up, then go to work, you wanna? Oh yes. You comin' home tonight? No, I got a ghost to bust. These are real life answers in times in my life. Now, all I want to do is raise chickens and not live 40 minutes away from my boyfriend. My newest revelation is that I need 4 new pillows and a case of water to be satisfied. I am all shaky until I fulfill this want. Make that, compulsion. I have to fulfill these compulsions until I feel better. That's why it's a compulsion. Duh.

My parent's rental house was burglarized again today. This has happened twice, and no, I do not live in Compton. Not there's anything wrong with that, but my sense of security is shaky. WTF? Oh well, I sit with my revolver in my living room ready to go. Tiger wears a funny vest. Champ just lays outside in the sun. Like an albino raisin in the sun......

Gah, I miss my friends, and so ready for good things to flourish. My desert is not as vast as others right now but I'm just burned out. I feel myself putting on my socks and shoes, and right as I go to play; I gotta finish something "important."

I hope we get to talk soon. I'm still eating clean even though my body craves refined sugar like a junkie. I'm working through some things, and all I can do is keep going.

My excuse.

Maybe I'm melancholy. Maybe I miss my tan. Maybe I miss things that never were mine. I miss not being able to do this all the time. I want more geniune experiences. It's okay to let your gaurd down, just remember it's a house made of sand. I lost all of our pictures. You barely have a few. We never got off our rears and had them printed out. How will everyone know our life is going so well? The pictures tell a lot of the story. Since I seem to be at a loss for words. I miss you. Broken chains, broken glass. It's all the same. New beginnings are just around the corner and just as I have a fresh cup of coffee, a new person to this world is opening her eyes. My muscles do ache and since we cant go exercise, it's hard to not to feel lazy. I know it cant ever be the same, so I hope for more. I hope for something better. I long for something better. I heard that we couldn't be equals because we were not similar. The good news is though, B and I can possibly build our house within 10 years. I think when we move it will be a confusing time. It's important to have the right sea legs for this. So far, I find us in a planning period.



Does this mean I am packing a cooler full of ice and strapping Champ into his car seat so we can track down those little albino squirrels living in Illinois? Maybe soon, but not today. I am dealing with massive confusion, questioning if I really am seeing gremlins in place of inanimate objects, and not feeding the oscillating fan after midnight. Just trying here, cause that's all I can really do. I decided early today that I would not be picking myself apart of becoming this scared little pigeon waiting in the wings. I need to pick up Daddy's father's day present. Gas up someone's renegade lawn mower. Attempt to put sentences together, and try not to flip out in the process. Really. This is where I am.



Secretly hoping my self tanner kicks in sooner rather than later, the smell is the stumbling block. I got rid of those clothes with all the holes in them. So what now? Fashion and I don't really mix, and lately I have been thinking that a towel would be an acceptable form of dress. It is summer after all, and I encourage us to soak up some sun.



B will be off next Tuesday with me, and I think I'm going to make fried chicken and have him drive us to a swimmin' hole. I just want to lay on a blanket all day. With him. Or you, if you can make it. Don't worry though, I will take my medicine to guard against Rockin' pneumonia and the boogey woogey blues.......

Live and let live!

Or, live and let die, move over Paul McCartney. Er, Axl Rose. Dang good James Bond movie....

Whatever your means of personal expression. Move over rover, we have become undefined. Some enjoy the absolute freedom of being undefined. Whether in your own person, realationship, hobby, whatever. If undefined is okay and not hurtful to others, then that's cool. Except the part of being undefined also brings responsibility and waves of hurt. Always. 2 people can have an undisclosed agreement between each other and because of our human natures, human feelings, and all that wonderful mess we always get hurt. So be careful in those uncharted waters! I realize we wake to each day not knowing if life is going to pull down our underpants in the middle of lunch in front of everybody.... Leaving us ashamed, hurt, and never wanting to wake again. This is not inspirational here, just talking things out. I wont say life wont ever hurt you, because it does. And like a good friend told me this week: WHY WONT ANYONE TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT THEY DO???!!!!???


This is an excellent question. No one ever believes they have done wrong. Or they don't want to know/believe they have done wrong. Maybe oblivion has great weather and it may be a more safe atmosphere...... Who knows?

Do you want to do acrobatics? All I know is to focus on what you can change, even the alcoholics know that one...... I am sunburned. Terribly. In all the wake of this, this, discussion. I sit here with a burning chest.

If we keep wearing red and the bull constantly chases us, who is in the wrong?

Never accept bad behavior and never facilitate bad behavior. It saves a lot of time and energy. It's also freedom.......

Polyamorous

Such a big word meaning love. I knew a beutiful girl who described herself as such. I thought about her today as I ate a snickers bar and trying to convince myself I had made a good choice when it comes to my eating habits. As usual, I'm slacking. While counting my ridiculous calorie intake I thought, Whatever happened to that girl? As with all sterotypes, I thought; why would anyone sterotype HER? I also had a blazingly bright friendship with this girl and thought no differently about her. She came from a nice family. No abuse. Nothing had traumatized her into thinking she was something she wasnt. This is just as she was. Now many people didnt like her because of her lifestyle choice. I always told her that she had to make healthy choices for herself. Case closed. My point? Just because she was living in a different lifestyle, this didnt mean I didnt respect her any less. This might sound bland, but this post has been cathartic to me.

Is honesty the best policy?

I'll be honest and to the point, without apology and without finger pointing. Tonight I am at my future home. Looking into the future is downright scary, since I don't have my dogs here. Yet. The motley crew I call my beloved dogs, are giving me goober faces, middle fingers, and huge doe eyed looks. Honestly. I have learned many reflections of the truth, dressed up pigs who looked like the truth, and of course, out and out abandonment innocently described as "Brutal Truth." Brutal truth is the thing we all pretend we want to hear. When all in all, it hurts us to the core and then we mind bend it to make us feel remotely sane. Excuse me, but can I completely unearth everything that really might hurt you, and in the end is going to make me think differently about you? In that case, forget it. Brutal honesty is one of those things I think I can live without. I received a letter to my ex-husband, and with all my honesty showing.... I wanted to rip the envelope open and read it. It was from the state, so I assumed it regarded a ticket or something of that nature. This specific letter, being none of my business, I kept in my car. Overnight. Today, I thought about what to do with the letter. Read it? Trash it? Send it back?
Be mad about it for no reason? I don't know. I do know, that it sent a flood of information in my head. This morning, I sent the letter back. Unopened. And with a clear conscience. Almost relieved. Do I believe sharp shooters are hanging out in the cherry trees by the driveway? You better believe I do..... and I also danced with my mailman 2 weeks ago at Brandon's wedding, seeing that my mailman, Chuck, is Brandon's step dad. Oh, and I'm sure he knows unlimited things about me, all due to the honesty of my mailbox. Chuck, being here nor there, may have bumped his head. You see, why did he leave that letter since he knows all kinds of sensitive information about me? There may have been a replacement mailman that day disguised as Chuck, and this person had no idea they were delivering a little piece of Jiminy Cricket right into my hot pink mailbox. (AND THAT SOUNDED FILTHY.) I can't fault that person pretending to be Chuck just for being honest, and doing their job. I just can't. Back to Eagle Eye in the trees, I continue with caution, that there were Crows about. Which sealed the deal with my conscience and my judgement, so carefully this morning I scribbled: RETURN TO SENDER

I kept my honesty intact. A small thing, and then I let the cat out of the bag to you. Telling on myself to satisfy that I had done the right thing? Maybe. More of, it's what I was going to do anyway....... then I listened to a ton of David Bowie.