Nothing else matters

What is it like to be a single mother? What is it like to be a son without a father?

Sitting in the midst of the night. The dishwasher running, the dryer humming. Tired from the long day of work, making dinner, doing dishes, cleaning the house or at least trying. Yet you find the strength to hold your son with his head pressed tightly to your chest.

You wrap your arms around him as securely as you can and rock him while he presses against you. His tears catching upon your shirt. The tears form the puddle of the river his heart is crying. Yet you can do nothing to mend the hole. You can do nothing to stop the hurt that is pulsing throughout him. All you can do is sit, stroke his hair, pat his back, and hold him tightly to your bosom.

You can do nothing but kiss his cheeks, his forehead and whisper how much you love him. You can do nothing while he longs for a father's touch.

These are the moments when your heart breaks. When your heart aches with every beat of his crying agony. This is the moment when nothing else matters.
This is the moment when friends, work, loves, when none of it matters.

This is the moment when you realize that you are all he has.

This is the moment you realize that everything you do is for him.

This is the moment when you realize that you have to give it all you have to make a way for him.

This is the moment when you realize you have to dig in even further and pull out every bit of determination, strength, endurance, courage, and will that you have and persevere on.
This is the moment when you realize you can' t look at what you don't have but grab a hold of what you do and make it better.

This is the moment where you realize that your petty wants for love, for affection, for a mate are so minor in the face of what you have to do.

In the face of what lies before you.

In the face of what you have rocking, steadily crying in your hands.

This is the moment

where you are

mom.

Standing in line, license in had. People around me. No one talks to me. No one smiles. There faces all vary in emotion. Some have hard lines of defiance, others sparkles and stars emit from there eyes whole others have the look of defeat. What's mine? The look of shame.Feeling lowly eyes diverted from every ones. I try to maintain composure but it simply comes across as cold. I'm not cold, just trying to preserve the last bit of dignity that remains.I hand the lady behind the thick glass my license. She writes my information upon a log. Is it the lamb's book of life or the devils book of advocates? To me the book of despair. The book of humiliation. The book of a chapter that should never have been written. Some epic novel that doesn't seem like it's my life but someone else’s.I sit, wiping the chair first. As if this will magically cleanse the degradation that has sat there before me. I wait. Head swirling. Unable to hold to any thought. Unable to grasp the emotion. There's none. My head erect, shoulders squared, back straight as I sit. Legs crossed, right over left, hands folded precise and direct. Nose tilted slightly up. Am I haughty? Prideful? No none of these things. None at all. I've been humbled through it all. But the actress in me covers for my shortcomings and falls. The actress in me...refuses to convey to this audience my chagrin. It refuses to convey to this audience the self-disgust, the self-reproof that is harbored behind its opaque window. Look in it invites and see the colors of honor. The colors of unreproach. But you will not find the tears. You will not find the loathing. You will not find the knees that are bent by the bedside holding on to the folds of a comforter, face buried in the side of the bed begging for the pain to stop unable to stand from the shock that has been delivered.You will not find the mouth covered by the hands as I sit in the restroom, the furthest place to be isolated, tears silently dripping upon the floor. Quiet so no one hears the heartache that has ripped me in to pieces.
What you will find is the strength, the determination and the unspeakable joy that can never be taken. What you will find is a zest for life and for human kind. What you will find is a part of love that never died. That will never wither. What you will find is honesty and respect. What you will find...is my character. Something that can never be destroyed.

corseted in red

bound by black

tighten the bindings behind my back

smooth and slow

thoughtful and distinct

plotted from pure carnal instinct

His thoughts dip me as if a dance

teasing my senses, this unknown man

Opening the locks

revealing the keys

to the hidden chambers

kept from all to see

Release the passion

the lust

the wiles

Bounded

blind

but unafraid

life's puppet to this charade

Walking through life

eyes closed tight

wearing the mask

of an emotionless plight

but touch me

hold me

and you will feel

the rushing of thoughts which are concealed

So tighten them tight

Bind them true

teach me to trust

open that part kept abstruse

No congratulations, but then again...None is needed.

Have you ever done something that felt so right, that felt so exhilarating only to have the very rug ripped from you?

Have you ever experienced an accomplishment and been so elated just to have it dashed?

If you have, I understand that emotion. That emotion that is so conflicting. The emotion guilt, elation, anger, happiness, confusion all rolled into one discombobulated mess.

This weekend our cast went to the ACT theater competition. We performed our play all I really needed to know I learned in Kindergarten. We performed through several blows against us that threatened to shake our focus.

We had a cast member to have her mother die, sending her to Oregon for a funeral and unable to compete.

A director who filled in for the missing cast member, memorizing the lines in one week and having one rehearsal with us, which happened to be the night before we left for the competition.

Once there we had a piano with a broken sustaining pedal that they finally found someone to come in and fix it.

Once it was fixed the piano crashed over.

We had the complete lack of sleep we all were working off of.

Take all this into consideration and it should have been a formula for disaster.

It indeed was not.

This group, this talented group rose to and above the occasion. We were even more determined to show that we belonged there. That we were there to win. That we...through it all...were going to let the playfulness and love for acting show through and infect each member of that audience.

We were there to give our craft the justice it deserved. The recognition that it merited.

And so we did. And so it was noted. We won best director. Best actor. Best cast ensemble. And we won Best in Show.

In addition we won the right to represent our state at the regional competition. What a fantastic honor.

All that and it brings me to home.

I arrive to my mom's to pick up my son. Is there a congratulations? No. Is there great job? no. Is there any appraisal or recognition? No. What was put forth was "and what's this going to get you? You have a child, a job your in training for, school...what purpose does this serve?"

What purpose does this serve? My children are taken care of. They are loved. They are cherished. I do my job and I do it well. I am in school and succeed at that too. Where did it say that when you have children you lose everything.

For as long as I can remember the arts was a waste of time. I felt silly for even sometimes wishing I could be an actor, or a writer, or that I dreamed of dancing when I was little. It was completely silly. So of course as an adult there would be no way that I would dare put forth from my lips...'you know...I enjoy acting. I enjoy writing.' as these are considered silly, frivolous talents. None of them warranting a second thought. Just a silly flight of fancy.

And when you have children...you can forget it. It's all over.

So, I started to do a few plays. I landed a few commercials. I got involved in a comedy troop. I tried stand up comedy yet, I kept it to myself. I did tell my family but none of them came. Ever. So it started that I wouldn't even tell them.

It's been a long process but I am finally reaching for my own. Finally coming into my own. Finally saying...to hell with the pretenses. To hell with the thoughts of others. To hell with what they think is the right thing for me. Because what is right for me...isn't always what's defined as correct. I know what works in my life and what doesn't. I am tired of living it someone else's way. It's mine for the taking and I plan on ceasing it.

I know my children and what responds best for them. I know the joy they have in their eyes when they have their accomplishments. So this life. This very life is mine, not anyone elses and I fully intend on making it whole despite the rhetoric.

But you know what...I've always been the one to if you say I can't...I say I will. If you say I won't...I say I did.

I will add this. I have been fortunate enough for a very few people to have been placed in my life that have been very encouraging.

They have all been in my life in different venues and capacities and all has been significant in helping me to reach independence. To reach where I am and where I am going.

So...thank you to each and everyone of you. Some know who you are, some will never know. But I thank you. I salute you.

WE WON! Yes WE WON! We wON the competition. We now compete at regionals!!!

I haven't posted in a bit. Life has gotten a bit hectic. So as is the life of a divorced single mom:) But if any of you have experienced that, or even if you haven't I am sure you can identify.

Life has thrown a few curve balls all at once. I mean does anything ever happen in steps? It probably does, we just don't ever see it until it all has pile up to a heap and then we wonder 'damn where did that come from?' So we come to what has been going on?



Let's start with business, hobbies, and then we'll get to personal; although, all of it is personal is it not?



So goes the cascade:



I am in training for a new position at work. Enjoying it greatly. Although it is a new experience I plan to tackle it like everything that has been thrown my way; with force, gusto, and triumph.



I have been house hunting. This is quite the new adventure. Did any of you realize all the work it went in to purchasing a house? You think shopping for the right bra, swimsuit, or that elusive pair of perfect jeans is difficult. Sheesh, the house is that times a trillion. Some things fit, others are off. It is really a search and find unfortunately what you have to search for is a needle in a haystack but the find is complete bliss and peacefulness. Not a bad trade off. Just difficult.



I successfully pulled a 'C' off in Economics. I don't know what small act of God I need to attribute that to, but it occurred. Miracles still do happen!



Our play is going to competition this weekend. It's been lined with it's ups and downs most assuredly. One of our cast members mother died. Yes, died, so she will be unable to perform. Our director has stepped into fill her spot and we are having our first rehearsal with her in the cast today. Tomorrow is the competition. No, pressure. No pressure at all. If you remember, shazzy, from previous blogs...she is who is filling the slot. So...if anyone could do it or at least have a fighting chance of succeeding it will be her. You know what we can do this. We are good darn it! We can do this!

The selfish part is I feel a bit of let down from my cast member. It's like okay...she's deceased. It's horrible, it is. But dive into what you were committed to and do it. For that moment be free, let the thoughts of all the shit in the world drop off your shoulders and just do it.
I realize that I have never dealt with the death of a parent, but I tend to delve into projects to stop emotions anyways. When my mother dies...I'll probably start to raise tigers in India or backpack across the world to make the pain stop.



This now brings us to personal. Yes...that elusive personal.

I have acquired a few new acquaintances since the last time I have blogged and some I'll even call friends.

Well I lied...I'll leave this portion closed :)

I'm bringing Sexy back

Well the unfolding of the drama in divorcee land continues....

I called the county jail again to see if the ex is still sitting there. I use to call every day, then every other day, then it dwindled to once a week. Sometimes if I was feeling particular confident I would even skip a week, but never more.

Now regarding this particular call lets back up....

I had checked just last week on the computer to see if he was still there (as I call and computer search) and had noticed his bond was changed. It was 30,000 and then read 0.00. Now I didn't know what that meant so I didn't know to ask about it.

So today when I called she told me...He was going to prison. Going to prison. Wow. I don't even know how I feel about that. I don't feel anything about it. I know there is something going on because my chest is a little tight but I don't consciously feel a bit of remorse.

I don't have any criminals in my family so this is a whole new area for me still.
I don't feel embarrassed about it anymore as I have come to terms with the fact that he does not define me and the actions and path he chose to take does not reflect me. I am my own woman now. the actions I choose to perform reflect me. I am not his other half any longer.

That's sounds so easy to say now and it looks so simple to understand but it wasn't long ago I struggled with that issue. I struggled hard to find what defined me. I struggled hard with holding my head held high knowing my husband was in jail.

So...what does this mean now. It means I have a little more time to breath. It means I can finally let my guard down for a little while and not hold my breath in fear every time I open the door to the house wondering if he is there.

It means I don't have to look around everywhere wondering if he is watching me.

It means I don't have to make a phone call every week and wait with my stomach in knots until the jail clerk tells me the answer.

It means an even bigger since of freedom. Not a facade of freedom. But the freedom that means you can sore with out fear.

On that note I will tell you that I am so elated. I feel as if I just won a lottery.

In turn though, I feel incredibly guilty for this feeling. Incredibly guilty that I feel this sense of elation at the downfall of another.

I am not glad that he is going to prison. I am not glad that anyone should choose that path and be held like a captive dog away from society because when they are let out they prey upon them like a savage beast. But selfishly I am glad because I no longer have to fear.

Bitter Sweet.

For the sweet. Guess who I spoke with last night...the infamous Mr. S.

Yes, Mister Sexy himself. It was lovely. The conversation was as if nothing had changed. It was an absolute delight.

So...does this mean that my creative mojo will come back? I hope so! It would be just in time for the play competition the 24th. Oh how I need my mojo. It was starting to wane.

How can one person have such a force over you? I have felt it before. A taboo force that drives you. Once many years ago. A taboo force that gave me confidence, strength.But that's another post.

On the C.L.: The Picture You Can?t Stop Talking About: Meet ?the Woman on p. 194?: glamour.com

On the C.L.: The Picture You Can?t Stop Talking About: Meet ?the Woman on p. 194?: glamour.com

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An old Journal

I was cleaning today and found one of several journals I had written in. I opened it up and came across a few freestyles I wrote. I immediately remembered the night they were written. I remember the tears that streamed down my face. I remembered the pain of my heart ripping into pieces and wondering if they would ever be able to be put back together. I remember thinking will the pain ever stop hurting. Will the nightmare ever end or would it always be that way.

Since this blog is about the thoughts of a divorced woman and what she experiences in the dark nights when no one is there to listen I thought what an insight on what it is like to live in the midst of hell. What it is like to live in the midst of a husband with a secret addiction and feel helpless because you want to believe with all your heart that he is not on anything the whole while everything else is telling you he is. What torment it is to wake up in the middle of the night to find he's left you again and all you want is for someone to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright. To know what agony to have absolutely no one to call because you have been isolated from the entire world and all you have are the children you are trying to protect and your own thoughts. The thoughts that wreak havoc on your sanity as each day passes that your there. So...with out further interruption...here are the few freestyles I came across that were written out of the deepest pain through tear flooded eyes:

Daddy's car

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope it's just the neighbor coming home

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope...just myself and the boys all alone.

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope it's just the hush of my son's cries

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope, it's just my son wishing there were no goodbyes.

Shh...can you hear that?

Nope it's just the sound of drums

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope, it's just the anger of (son's name here), the youngest son.

Shh...Can you hear that?

Nope, it's not daddy's car

Shh...can you hear that?

No, no, it's not Daddy.

His heart is still so very far.

A marriage slipping

Listening, waiting

quiet, hating

hurt, sadness

silence, madness

breaking, tearing, begging, pleading

confusion, quilt

despair, wilt

Weak, pain

lost, shame.

A happy family

(Older son's name here) is sad, sensitive, angry, stressed, emotional, ready to pop

(Younger son's name here) is angry, acting out, mad and inconsolably sad

Mom is worn out, crying, hurting, wanting it to stop

(Spouse's name here) is out there lost, wasting, lying, forgotten about being Dad.

Slipping

So Black.

So Black.

So BLACK!

I'm so alone. So alone. So ALONE!

So Heavy. So heavy. So heavy.

Why? Why? Why?

So discarded and tossed aside.

The pain so intense inside. So much my lips feel numb. So much my cheeks are numb. Tears stream, can't stop.

Slipping. Slipping. Slipping.

So BLACK. so Black. so black.

I just have one more thing to say...

damn it sexy! You have blocked my creative mojo. I need it back please, if you can remember where you stashed it. I would like it back now.

I just got back from karate and kickboxing class. What's my skill? In karate I think I am alright. In kickboxing...I have no idea. I think I lag in comparison to the skilled fighters at our dojo. They had the grappling going on and sensei asked if I wanted to go. I chickened out. I told him 'I wouldn't even know what to do." They were good. I must admit there was a guy there tonight who was very skilled. I won't lie I he wasn't hard on the eyes either. But this is class...I'm learning here.

During the class they put one person in the middle. That person has to fight for so and so minutes against each person in the training class. So, there I am, pink wraps, boxing gloves and I come in on 'Big Teddy'. The guy is huge. Take a linebacker, shape em' up, and teach him to fight...That's 'Big Teddy'. All he has to do is lift his leg and his knee covers 1/4 of mine. And that's just what happened. I threw a kick which he blocked and a huge bruise is now magically forming on my thigh. Like pink hearts, yellow moons and purple horseshoes but there's nothing magically delicious about it. Did it hurt. Hell yes. I am not going to lie. Is it still hurting once again a resounding yes as I lay here with it aching. Will I do it again? You better believe it.

Someone else at our class was there and guess what scent wafted my way... mint and smoke. Now he is definately not hard on the eyes either, but this is class I told you guys. We are not going there! What is it with mint and smoke? Do you recall the blog of the priest? Well similar to that experience flashed through my eys the moment it crossed my scent. It has become an aphrodisiac more me. It is the strangest thing.

After I cam home I tucked my son in bed, took a shower and am ready to go to bed myself. I tried to call one of my friends but they didn't answer so...after several days I tried to call Sexy tonight. No answer. We'll see if he returns the call tomorrow. If not, I guess I know.

And here it is with the divorce. One of the hardest times I have is laying in bed by myself in those still moments. There is no one to tell how you did kickboxing today and have a bruise and your thigh is hurting like hell. There's no one to lean over to and tell about your sons accomplishments how in karate class he did a standing front flip over a bag. There's no one to lean over to and say 'I love you and I am so glad your in my life.' These are the toughest moments there are. These are the moments that if I had any tears left I am sure they would come. You can only fill the day and evening up with so many things before you have to stop and rest. Unfortunately that's when the mind stops and thinks.

I am comfortable with just me. I am confident in who I am but, I want some one to share this life with.

So...Any takers? Applications are now being accepted.

Revised and corrected edition of: "The Fantasy"

I felt in the mood for a little erotica. Have fun bloggers!

She enters the club. Not knowing quite what to expect, but knowing she's here to unlock something inside her. Something that keeps screaming to be unleashed. She casually sits at the bar and scans the room. Nothing unusual that sings out. An older gentleman across the bar, nursing a beer obviously avoiding going home to the nagging wife. A few guys across the bar as one smiles at her while he brings his crown and coke to his lips. . She watches the other girls as they walk about the club. Their shirts all cut low and hugging their bodies tightly. They wear slacks and dresses that show off their bait of bare thighs and breasts to their potential catches. Some have already succeeded and huddle with their prey at their tables wrapped in each others arms. Their lips heatedly connected. She sits their wondering 'what the hell am I here for?'

She forgoes the slacks or dresses as their a part or her required everyday bait and instead sits in her favorite blue jeans that she thinks hugs her apple bottomed ass in all the right places. Her shirt is lowered, but not to revealing as she is not yet ready to give up all of her ladiness and inhibitions. Not here. Not now. Not yet. But then why is it she's here?

She gazes across the crowded room to the dance floor where she hears the music pumping loudly through the air. Then she notices him. There in the midst of all the women swaying their bodies to the music... he's there. What she's seen in the midst of her fantasies as she sits at work. What she's heard screaming from inside her. Why she's here. Lust. Pure. Simple. Heated Lust.

He's athletically built, taller than she. His eyes penetrating and a smile that emits the utmost confidence. She watches as he glides his partner around the dance floor. Pulling her close to him and then spinning her out. He catches her right as she spins to pull her back to him. In complete control and rhythm he moves her to the music. An erotic scene danced between the two of them as the music pumps throughout their bodies. He places his hand on her hip as they sway. He moves her with such grace, with such ease.

So there at the bar she watches the scene unfolding. She bites her lip and grabs her drink a little tighter. Envious of the girl on the dance floor. Envious not of the girl herself but of the way he touches her. Envious of the look he gives her. Envious of the way he makes her look like she's the only one that matters at that very moment. She licks her lips while wishing she was that girl. Just for that moment.

The music ends and the man releases his partner. He walks to the bar right next to wear she sits. He leans in to the young female bartender who giggles as he places his order and the scent of him catches the lady sitting. The hint of his cologne filling through her pores as she imagines the sweet smell engulfing her body.

He takes the drink from the bartender and turns to her. He smiles, says 'hello' and all she can do is smile. How can she tell him she wants to feel his body wrapped completely around hers. How can she tell him his smell is driving her wild. How can she tell him she wants to feel his lips pressed to hers.

'Who are you here with' he asks her. She looks around. Is he talking to her? He asks again 'Who are you here with?' She replies 'no one' and he casually says 'well then, maybe I'll see you on the dance floor.' She accepts the invitation graciously 'sure, maybe.' and watches him disappear into the sea of people...

Later as she still sips her drink she spots him on the dance floor. He looks up to the bar and motions for her to join him. Hesitantly she gets up and moves out to the floor, mesmerized by his enticement.... I'll leave out the details here :)

Later...

...She steps into the room as her heart flutters in excitement. Her breast clearly seen through the pink, lace chemise. Her nipples hard with anticipation as she walks to the bed where he calmly lays propped up on the pillows reclining into the headboard. That smile. That lust emanating smile. Those eyes. Those penetrating eyes. He motions for her to come. She accepts the invitation and moves toward him.

She crawls onto the bed where he draws her toward him. He pulls her lips toward his and presses them softly to hers. His lips part hers and he descends his tongue across them. The passion presses his lips tighter, harder to hers. He places his hands gently upon her waist and pulls her up so she is on her knees before him. She hesitantly pauses as if she can not believe what he is doing. He places his hands upon her bottom and pulls her close to him. He stokes his tongue across her thighs as he presses her closer. She grabs the head board as his tongue slides between her. His tongue glides in arousing strokes as he holds her to him.

He slips inside of her to which She moans with pleasure as she feels the warmth of his tongue. The gentle licks. He places his mouth around her as he sucks in her pearl while swaying his tongue across, She holds the headboard tighter from the shear pleasure but he pushes her back all the while holding her closely between his lips. She leans back, her hips still arched forward and he takes her even harder into his mouth. His tongue moving fiercely. Her body tightens and she arches fiercely towards him as she surrenders in complete ecstasy.... He travels to her lips. Kissing her passionately, stopping along her thighs, hip, stomach, breast.

He pushes up towards her and kneeling, presses between her lips. She slips her legs from the bed to kneel between his legs. Her tongue wet as she tastes him between her lips. Her mouth pulses and pulls to and fro as the pressure of him tightens against her. She strokes him deep inside her mouth. Her tongue entwining around him. She glides his manhood from between her lips and slides her tongue below him. Taking his quiver into her mouth, her tongue slowly licks.... she glides her tongue back up his shaft and engulfs him deep into her again. The steady sucking makes her moan as she pulls him closer. Wanting to have even more of him within her. The thought makes her head rock even faster, taking him even harder, with even more intensity....

Okay...that's all folks. I can't tell the whole thing. Now that just wouldn't be right. Besides. Economics test is calling my name.

In class

Here comes my desk partner

There it goes again

the smell of smoke infused with mint...

Just a hint of smoke

Burst of mint

returns me instantly to the moment my pulse raced

my heart pounded

my body giving into completley carnal desires.

AHHHHH the smell of somke masked by mint. What an impossible torture

(written in class Monday and copied here)

People watching

Sitting at the Smoothies -n- things. People watching. The man across from me is balding. His skin is the color of mocha. He is obviously mixed. His hair a loose wave. His glasses, wire framed, gold. He sits very secure. Yet as you watch him you can tell he has a few insecurities with the opposite sex, for he sits next to a female. Her knees are slid in facing him on the yuppy cafe couch. She smiles as she speaks. The way she situates herself says I am interested but I am going to be cautious about getting to know you. He sits slightly leaned away yet with his knee closer to hers. This suggest I am interested also, but I am not quite letting you in yet. He shifts as he speaks. He fidgets with his napkin as he talks. He wipes the same spot repeatedly as to ensure no food has strayed to his goatee. His eyes sparkle when she leans forward and giggles. When she does he shifts towards her. When the giggling stops ans he is unsure he shifts back away. Interesting dynamic these two. Nope...they have not had sex yet. Still the unsure awkwardness. He still looks at her with that curious hunger when she looks away.

People watching. I love it.
Cutting this short I have to get to work.
I'll have to write later about the very confusing event that transpired. I am still trying to grasp my had around it. As soon as I do you all will be privy to the blog.

Craving

I'm not sure I like this one. This is the start of another, heck I don't even know what you call it. But I just don't think it flows well together. It's not finished. What do you think?

1) Trash it and start over

2) Keep it and finish

3) I don't care and why are you asking me?

A fragrant scent wafts through the room
Vanilla candles, rose potpourri fill the atmosphere as
Dimly lit streaks of fire flames dance upon the mirrors gaze.
Uncloaked figures entwine exposing their very being

The radiance caressing bare thighs
The luminance stroking exposed breast
Passion Burning through the mirrors reflection

Moans and whispers break the scents
As the two figures breathe in the air

‘Take me’ she pants as he pulls her close, lips parted
Inhaling her very essence. Enchanted by her pulchritudinous.

Their eyes close as his hands etch to her cheeks
His lips soft as he explores her mouth plump with desire.
She kisses back feeling the tenderness in his touch as his tongue caresses hers.
He pulls back gently and benevolently kisses her once.
His smile perfect and easy as she slowly opens her eyes.
She reaches up to him. Her hands wrap around him and she renders into him. She gasps for breath as her body recedes into the craving
She coils her leg around his thigh and presses into his manhood. Hunger rises to her core.

On my way

Testing the winds to see if I can fly. Soaring upon the breeze. Feeling the air as it takes me higher. Higher. Higher to heights I’ve only dreamed.

Inquiring into the ocean to see if I can swim. The mighty sea takes me further. Further. Further than I thought it could.

Aspiring to be all that I can

Conceiving what I could be

Vigilant to what will

Trying Invane

(typed last night and just cut to here this morning)

I miss being in your embrace. To try and keep that thought from my mind is like trying to keep a bee from its nectar. Futile.

To try and keep the thought of the way the touch of your hand upon my skin felt is like trying to keep a drunk away from a wine bottle. Impossible when he can remember the warm feel of it sliding down his throat as it encircles its way to his stomach.

Trying to keep the sound of your voice from echoing in my ear is like trying to keep a kitten from its mother. Preposterous as it remembers the warmth and delight that sound accompanied.

Trying to keep the taste of your lips out of my senses is like trying to keep a child from an ice-cream stand. Vain, when they can remember the way the ice-cream tantalized there taste buds as it slid past their lips.

Trying to keep me from wanting you is like trying to keep the Northern Geese from migrating. Useless when the desire is burned upon their consciousness.

Tell me why I have allowed myself to be reduced to this. Tell me why I’m biting my lip at the thought of you. Tell me why you pass through my thoughts. Tell me why I am sitting in black bra, panties, and necklace typing this about you.

It’s simple.

I miss you.

I want you.

Badly.

Ode to a little extra weight

An Ode to Thick Women.

ugly. thick. fat.

that's what you say.

to the woman who doesn't look like you

to the woman with a little more sway.

Who gave you the right to tell us we're ugly. I like the way my thighs curve. I like the way my tummy shakes when I giggle to hard and it rolls a little when I sit down. I like the way my boobs are uneven. I like the way way my butt is plump. I like the way my eyes look like a doe's . I like the way I have way to many freckles. I like the way my hair frizzes. I like the way my nose flares when I'm mad. I like the way my upper arms are a little thicker. i like the way my stretch marks remind me of the day I gave birth. I like the way they put a different texture to my skin. I like the way my scars shine white. I like the way my calves are thick. I like the way I have a broken vessel on my leg where I won a competition after blocking a shin kick and jabbing. You know what. I like me.

Who allowed you to define me?

What makes me unbecoming because we don't look alike?

Why can't you accept we are different and that's what makes us beautiful?

Eat a candy bar. It'll make you feel better.

Interjection: You know, I've been fat, chunky, thin, and inbetween. I've never been morbidly obese. So I won't claim to know what's that like. You know I have my own hangups but I really wish women could learn to appreciate one another. Maybe if we could learn to appreciate each other's differences we could learn to accept ourselves as beautiful, unique, and wonderful. It starts with you. Take the initiative. See something admiral in the girl you pass in the street. Find something exquisite in your coworker who you love to hate. In doing so you just may find something pulchritudinous in yourself .

Smiles. Laughter.

All to hide the pain

Ripped at the heart

Ripped at the seams

Another spot found again.



Happy Labor Day

this one won't be forgotten.









My Labor day:


Today is not so hot. I am very worn out.




My brother is down visiting for the week.




Yesterday he found another lump in his neck.




Happy Labor Day.




Not really.




But we had a great day regardless.




Life's not fair.




Life's just not fair.

Right now. Unrested

The hum of the air conditioner fills the air. The sound of a running aquarium filter plays in the background. The steady click of a a keypad.

The quiet breaths of two dogs breathing. Asleep. Dreaming. Maybe of bones. Maybe of fetch. Maybe of being able to speak.
Lights dim. The glare of a monitor. The soft white light bleeding out from under red lamp shades.

Feet resting on soft, plush, beige low shag carpet. Arms resting by side. Fingers nimble on the keys. Thighs sunk into a red couch covered by beige throws. The smell of fresh plants fills the air.

Mind unrested. Longing for sleep. Thoughts flutter across eyelids and dance into cognition. Heart slowed. Breathing calm. Sweet serenity almost in reach.

Okay...so you all know the Brian from my previous blogs of "What am I thinking about for 2-3 minutes." Well he is now sitting in front of me at a Starbucks and I am listening to him playing acoustical guitar and singing. He's wearing blue jeans, plaid orange and blue shirt, flip flops and a black Taylor hat. His fingers strumming the Taylor (guitar). He makes it come to life as he works with out effort, like a bee sucks the nectar from a flower and turns it into a sweet tantalizing honey. As does the lyrics rolling off his tongue like the honey melting in your mouth into a delectable taste that makes your tongue scream for mercy. Oww is he good. So good. A guitar in his hand is like a sword in Achilles palm. A very gift from the Gods that be, to tempt your soul and make you beg for mercy.

Frank is here. He hangs out at the guitar store. Frank is sporting a green jacket, brown polo, blue jeans and brown shoes. He is talking to shazzy about music. He has perfect pitch. If you are playing something he can tell you exactly which chord/note you need next. I find that amazing. Frank is very grounded. His humor is sometimes dry and sometimes I don't understand it, but I find him very fascinating and intriguing for that mix. He is so....reserved I find it interesting. He makes my brain tick because there is nothing 'fantasyish' if you will, about him. For that reason sometimes he confuses me. I enjoy the analytical ism he brings to the atmosphere. Something I would never bring. He is so clever. When he listens he actually hears what you say. He is quite interesting.
Now Shazzy is here too!!! I am so excited she is here. She absolutely makes my day. She is fancying a white/gray hippy floral print, plaid shorts, real leather tie up moccasins, and her black/brown arty glasses. Her lips sip upon pumpkin spice latte. She is also blogging at this moment on her new art decor Inspiron. Shit, even her laptop is more creative than mine!
I tell you she has such creative energy that flows it arouses my passion (not to mention the music invading me). She's like my muse. If you could find two people that just meshed so well and their strengths and weaknesses complimented each other, I think that would be her and I. She gives me strength when I am weak. She lifts me up when i am down. I know this is so sappy but she truly is the wind beneath my wings. I hope I somehow help her as much as she does me. I just love to be with her. Love ya girl!

Okay back to Brian. He has his eyes closed as he is feeling the rhythm of the music. His body keeping tune to the infectious purr of the guitar. The bass player pounding the beat into your core. Making the temptation within come to life as it strums upon your passion to awaken. The music begging for your spirit of freedom to release! Can I throw my bra now??? Oh sorry this is Starbucks.

Alright so I guess we know what everyone is wearing and doing. What am I wearing. God this blog has been reduced to what I'm wearing! Okay if I said nothing...then it would fit with my theme! But I am fetching a black fitted T-shirt, a ballet type wrap, dark Gray pin stripped Capris, snake skin kitten heel sandals, and a mound of black-white-and amber beads. Oh yes...so yuppish today.

A lesson finally learned.

I'm sitting in economics while the teacher rants on about supply and demand, aggregates and Long Runs. When all of a sudden a smell wafts my way. A smell that instantly sends me a tingled chill and a calmness all at once. It was the smell of smoke and mint emanating from the lips of my desk partner. At that moment I had to resist the urge to push his chair back, sit in his lap, and inhale the breath from his very lips. Yes, odd reaction. Very odd.

That was the first smell of the fling with Sexy. I had just brushed my teeth, he walked in. He kissed me hard and the light taste of smoke and the fresh burst of mint tingled my tongue with a mint numbing sensation. It was very erotic. It was like bad boy meets good girl and the infusion bursting into a chemical reaction.

Last night I watched Sunshine Cleaning. I recommend the movie. I enjoyed it. I was overwhelmed though by emotions.

Emotions.

I try to avoid chick flicks due to this very reason. Emotions. I spent a lot of time crying during the latter years with my husband/ex-husband and I have never wanted to cry again. Some days I think...there are no more tears left in me to cry. I have become so strong and impenetrable that I am over the crying. And then I am greatly humbled and reminded that there is still growing and healing in the emotions area.

I truly believe that destiny, fate, life, karma, God, whatever you want to call it is always teaching us. We have a lesson that we are always on at a given time and whenever we figure out that lesson we are then moved on to be taught a new lesson. This lesson could last minutes or years. Depending on when we finally get it. This knowledge came with watching Sunshine Cleaning. I identified with the characters in some shape or form. I then cried. Yes cried. Cried and cried till I felt...well purged. Cleansed. I think I finally got the grasp of my lesson. I finally learned that I don't have to fear abandonment, being myself, or the way I say or think things. I learned that just being me is good enough. I don't have to be anything more than who I am. That I am enough. That no matter if it feels painful at times, hard, and uncomfortable you still have to step out and embrace humanity and people. You still have to open yourself up and feel...lust, passion, love.

So many times the hurt and pain that we experience in life cause us to want to shut down. To not feel. To keep yourself closed and hidden from any type of relationship feeling. To even go so far as to shun love because it is just to scary to open up. And then if someone even tries to be nice to you or show you affection back you run. Run for the hills. Run for the border. Just run, not look back and completely write the people off.

Well...I finally learned. I finally learned the lesson. Don't run. Just open up and be yourself. If something happens it happens. If it doesn't it doesn't. You never know what someone is like or even what you are like until you try. If it messes up, you know what...you still tried. You gained something out of it whether it be what may not work for you, what did work for you, experience, knowledge, or even a friend.

I learned this with Sexy. You all were privy to the saga as it transpired and unfolded. From Beginning to now (I hope not the end. A friend at the very least). Here's how it went and what I learned:

I was very closed. No male got in my circle or past the guard I had put up. No one. They got just to the point I could keep them at bay and turn the emotions on and off at will. Nothing real. Then I met Sexy.

I was on a high already from the play, My confidence was soaring, and I was in that element where I was open to 'feelings' because I had been using them all night, week after week in the play. So just being open. Sexy had everything right. Everything that I wanted (Well everything that is to feed a purly carnal desire. Remember, there is no love here. Just a purely carnal lust. Someone for me to say I love would be something entirely special. Entirely rare, back to my story...) Courageous, spontaneous, friendly, open, confident, patient, caring, and he seemed a bit grounded. He was the perfect cocktail. The perfect aphrodisiac for me. My perfect poison and blend. He was my mixed brewed just for me.

I think sometimes life just has to kick you in the ass when you have been on the lesson so long and just are still not getting it. Then it has to 'help' out a little and put what you need to 'help' the process along. I swear...this lesson would have been still going on if it hadn't. I have avoided a lot of combos and cocktails. With this and that not being quite right. So life was feeling a bit of pity for me and helped me out putting me in the same place, at the right moment, in the right mindset, and with the right friend, with my irresistible cocktail. And then still I tried to leave in order to avoid anything I was feeling. I knew I was feeling a bit enamoured and tried to run. But upon leaving I talked with my friend in the car and came back. I just couldn't avoid it. I couldn't shake it.

So...I let my hair down. Let loose. Took a chance and was me. Quirkiness and all. Not really hiding anything. I even said what I thought when it wasn't pleasant instead of hiding it. It sometimes came out a little acidly but hey 'I'm learning here'. Normally I just hide if I'm angry and don't say anything not wanting the confrontation. But you know what. I didn't. I went right in there, no holds barred. I am not saying I did it right. I probably may have said more than I should have. And other things maybe I should have or shouldn't have done, but it all was worth it. I learned a lot in that short period of time.

You know what. I am glad Sexy is just the way he is. If he was any other way I would never have learned. I would never have been open enough to get it. I am glad that some days he didn't call.I am glad that some days he didn't answer. I am glad that he is decent and kind and that he just didn't drop me like a hot cake. I am glad that he put up with the changing tides! I am glad that he let me be me. I am glad that I did it all. I am glad that I was willing to be me. I am very glad. I wouldn't change a thing (except add more!). Him being the way he is; weaning me if you will...helped me to finally learn what life has been trying to teach me for years.

The lesson part. I learned that even though it is a little uncomfortable and frightening. That even though we don't know what we're doing all the time. Stepping out, taking a chance is worth it. I learned that I can be me, disagree and put it out there and you aren't always going to be rejected. There are people who still believe in friendship. There are still people who are good at heart. There are still people who believe in humanity. People are still worth being open and candied with. People are still worth our respect. It is still worth saying what you believe, what you feel, and what you think. Life is still worth it.

Thank you karma, life, destiny, fate, God, whatever it is you want to be called for letting Sexy be my irresistible cocktail. Thank you that I could just be me and learn that you aren't always dropped if you think a bit differently and take a chance.

Thank you Sexy for being who you are. I appreciate you.

Your friend,

Moondoggie.

It's Wednesday and I just deploritized on Sunday. Is that even a word...deploritized...I don't know but it is now! So...after my deploritization (oh yeah I'm going to do all kinds of things with this word. Some your momma would smack you for!) I was left with no hair. Well it has already started to grow back.

I went to put my little silky/nylon underwear on this morning and they were catching on these little tiny hairs. I thought it was so funny. So I had to switch to my cotton underwear and I will note those are doing well. No snagging or catching. I also just had to see what it felt like. If you rub down it feels really smooth. Almost like velvet. If you rub up it feels like right after a man shaves his face. That was weird.

Wow...only 3 days before regrowth. It sure didn't last long, but I will say there are no bumps. You can see where you have hair when I did it. It didn't look completely bare, except in some places.

I think this Friday I am going to apply it again and see it it takes off this little bit of hair. We'll see.

And a side note...I just read some reviews on this product. The smell of it was bad as all the reviews state, but I didn't have a lingering smell on my skin. Well..I can't really bend over and take a close up either, but if my friend ever stops being so weird...I'll give you an update! LOL! You guys new I had to add something like that in there...come on. This blog is not for the easily offended!

You know let's just discuss sexy for a minute shall we. He goes from answering all the time, to I think I hurt his feelings or offended him one when are little 'incident' I blogged about took place, to then he calls, doesn't, answers, doesn't, and definitely won't even email me back. Goodness this is annoying. I just want to know what's up. What is the deal. So... I am refusing to call anymore because this crap is annoying! Then I get a weak, softy, girly moment and want to hear his voice and see where we stand. Gosh...arrrr! This is not good. But...I haven't talked to him except for Saturday. Well. Catch you guys later.

So a few things.
First I just read Moonbloggies blog about the toot and swine flu. Hope he has an even speedier recovery. Get well soon little toot!

Second, about leg hair. I tell you what. I have been looking for a way to remove hair. ugh-ummm yes hair. Not on your legs. Not on your eyebrow but the hair we all know where it is. The options were as follows:

Option 1: Shaving
I have tried shaving the bikini line and no matter what I get these bumps that last for weeks. Even if I use the no bump cream I still get them. I tried standing in the shower in very warm water to loosen the pores. I've tried loading down on the shaving cream. On even conditioner. I even tried rubbing it after with alcohol (yes ow). I tried the aftershave like a guy uses. I mean nothing worked. If I shaved there were bumps. Then you got the whole growing hair back in. So I moved on...

Option 2: Electric bikini shaver
This worked and didn't work. These things take forever not to mention you get crick in your neck from bending over for 20 minutes. Then when you shave it, you still have this like 5'0clock shadow look going on. LOL! Sometimes I got it just right but then I would sometimes get little red splotches on my skin where the electric shaver irritated it. So...

Option 3: The electric hair clippers
That's right the electric hair clippers that the beauticians use. I tried this. It worked just like the electric bikini shaver except in a fraction of the time. And um...should I add here that if you got a little distracted you could wind up with a nick that...ow does not feel so good. And still the red splotches. Moving on...

Option 4: plucking
Yes I even tried plucking with tweezers. I was getting desperate during this feat. It wasn't as bad as you think. Mind over matter right. But this takes forever and I'm not going to lie...not the most enjoyable feeling ever! In some spots it down right hurt. Over this one really quickly...

Option 5: waxing.
Every now and then I get a bright idea and decide I am going to wax. Let me just say I'd rather pluck! I get the strip on and then when I start to rip off I remember...What the hell am I thinking. This shit hurts. It's always hurt and it's not going to get any better. It's kind of like when the pain of childbirth wears off and you think 'oh it wasn't so bad.' And then there you are with contractions and labor pains and sore boobs and you've got the nurse saying 'now push through the pain your doing great' and all you want to do is kick her right through the window and then you remember 'this shit hurts'...once again too late. So this was even quicker to move on from.

Option 6: deploritory cream (NAIR)
I don't know why I never thought of and tried this before now. On Sunday I tried this and it was awesome! No red bumps. No red splotches. I got the Nair for Sensitive skin and smeared it all over the place. I had started out to just do the bikini line but I thought...let's just see how well this stuff really works and just went wild putting it all over. I then sat on a towel on the toilet lid reading a book. I waited for 12 minutes, because I lost track of time reading the book. The bottle says do not leave on more than 10minutes.Whoops. I then got into the shower. I took a wash rag and started to wipe down on the sections that had the cream. A little ughh watching the hair on the rag, but it took it all off. This stuff worked great. I just did it on Sunday....so I'll let you know how it grows back in as time goes on. But as far as now this stuff is my new bikini hair remover! I love it!!!

On another note. I am in a bit of a funk. You know what. I think I am really actually wanting to finally have someone in my life. I want someone to care about. Not just someone to play around with but I think I really want to care about someone. Hmm...that's a twist of things. You know what my thoughts really are at this moment? Here they are. This is what is circling in my head exactly as they are. Not in any order. Not a great poem or expression but this is really how it is being thought in my head. Here it goes.

Sitting in the middle of the bed.
Awake.
Alone.
Can I call shazzy?
No it's too late.
Can I call sexy?
No, I don't know what is going on between us. I don't' want to be seen as desperate of 'hooked'
Can I call my Sensei?
Nope not an option
Can I call my brother's friend who's now my friend?
I don't know...maybe it's too late. It is 1am in the morning.
Can I call my mother?
No I she wouldn't understand this feeling. It's too 'emotional'.
I'm scared.
I had a bad dream
I'm alone
I want to be held
I want to be adored.
I want to be secure

I want to roll over and hear the sound of your breath.
I want to kiss your cheeks and know that you are real and here with me.
I want to lay on your chest and feel the warmth of your body next to mine.

I want to love you.
I want to know you.
I want to giggle with you.
I want to be...
yours.

Oh I Love where I work!

I went to lunch a moment ago and was engrossed in sea of blue! A sea of Air force Blues to be precise. A bunch of commissioned officers, all at the top of their fitness levels, dressed in blues and spit shined patent shoes. It turns out they are having their annual conference at the hotel across the street. Oh wow! Oh wow! Oh wow!

It also turns out I wear everything I think right on my face. If you look, you know. As I was passing through the sea of blue, I couldn't help but smile. I was like a kid in a candy shop wanting to taste all the candy but knowing if I put my hand in all the jars it may get popped. So you just smile and let your mouth water. This scenario seemed to be emanating off of me because a lot turned to me and just smiled too. Even a smile as they turned to watch as they walked by.

Yes, Life is good. Life is good in blue. LOL!

Some people conduct business in an office. Some people conduct business with a staff. And apparently some people also conduct business without clothes. Yes this is what happened to me this past weekend.

I have this person, let's call him 'Breezy' who is a general laborer. He has done various projects for me over the years such as painting, plumbing, lock installations, etc. In the past I have come home early and have seen his clothing folded in the floor of my kitchen. One evening in particular I came home from the dojo early and saw a streak run to my bathroom. As I walked back towards my bathroom I noticed his clothes folded in the kitchen floor. It did not cause me any concern as he spoke to me from behind the bathroom door. I just figured 'Breezy' was a little eccentric, not a big deal. Besides he comes at a really good price.

Well Breezy re plumbed my entire house. I just put up front the cost of the products and arranged to pay him labor later. This past weekend was later. I went to his shop to pay him. His shop is in a huge shed where he does all types of wood work and refinishing cars. I knocked on the shop door and waited for about a minute for him to answer the door. I walked inside and saw 2 cars being completed. On the other side was a woodworking table and saw and various other tools and machines. In the back on the corner was a painting area that had a dust free wrap around. I opened my red wallet to pay but discovered I had no more checks. I told him I had to go to the bank and I would be back with cash.

I went to the ATM, got the money and proceeded back to his shop. When I arrived the door was open and he was standing behind the wood working table working on a very beautiful jewelry cabinet. Breezy is a tall, thin, 44 year old. blond hair, blue eyed man. His hair is kept long and pulled back in a pony tail. He wears a 5 o'clock shadow all the time and he smokes Camel cigarettes. He has no signs of balding whatsoever. It was very hot in the shop as he doesn't turn on any AC and the large shop fan was not on. So there he stood, shirtless behind the table saw. I, always being the joker, said " what are you naked standing behind there". Well he laughs and steps out saying 'Well actually I have on underwear.' As he steps out breezy is sporting a black, shiny, silky pair of bikini underwear. I am talking yes...full out there, standing loud and proud in bikini underwear with his Lingham right there for the viewing. I didn't quite know what to do so...when in doubt...Laugh. And that is what I did. I stood there, laughing my butt off. I said 'well this is a new way to conduct business.'

He said 'well, it's hot as hell in here' and then he turned to get the receipt book. And there in front of my eyes was a bare ass walking to the back side of the shop. Not only did he have on black, shiny, silky bikini underwear on but these were thongs. Yes you heard me thongs. I exclaimed in complete shock 'Breezy, your wearing a thong that looks just like my Victoria Secret thongs! I'm not looking! I'm not looking!' I then started looking all over the shop. Anywhere that would try to distract my eyes from the thong wearing Breezy.

He then proceeded to explain to me about how thongs are more comfortable and how he got started wearing the thongs. he then patted on a chair next to the desk for me to come and sign the receipt book. I sat down, very uncomfortably in the chair to sign the receipt. He said 'oh I forgot' and then got up to get a pen. He called out 'stop looking' in to which I replied 'My goodness you get up and walk away in a thong and I can't help but stare at your ass. I am trying not to look my goodness!' I proceeded to spin around in the chair nervous as hell. Trying to find anywhere to stare besides at his ass as he is walking.

Well long story short nothing other than that happened. I signed the receipt book and we talked a bit about the inhibitions of clothes. He sat very calm and normal as I spun back and forth in the chair fidgeting quite a bit. yes, it was odd. Very, very odd. Why does stuff like this seem to happen to me? I am glad people feel comfortable with me, but this is taking it to an extreme.

Later that evening my teenage son had his friends over playing (some had spent the night) and one of them had their cousin there. I assumed he was maybe 16 or 17, not that he looked it, I just assumed it. Turns out he was 19 and 1/2. Don't forget the half. Like this is an important monument that says I am not a teenager I am an adult. To me...just a baby. Your 19, come on.

So anyways they are all in the living room playing video games. They do this till late in the night when I take them to Mellow Mushroom. Some go with us and then sleep over and others go home. The next day, Sunday they all come back including the 19 year old. They continue playing video games and one of the boys' sister knocks on the door and says they have to carry something to the car for the mom real quick. So...they all leave...because we all know teenagers travel in packs. Except this 19 1/2 year old named 'delusional'. Well he proceeds to come into the kitchen where I am making tacos and starts to talk to me. The conversation is how he is joining the Navy. Then it turns into "I am sorry if this is out of line but, how old are you". I proceeded to tell him not thinking anything of it because I am looking at him like he's a little boy. Then he continues with "I think your very beautiful..." and oh yes the 19 1/2 year old is hitting on me. I mean he is actually hitting me.

And that is what happened to me this weekend. Do things like this happen to any of you?

The wind blowing through my hair

Freedom whispering in my ear

Run

Run

The smell of the trees

The wildness filling my passages

Run
Run

The droplets of rain

independen upon my face

Run

Run

A hand

A touch

A saving grace

pace

pace

A kiss

A smile

wait

wait

Wild and Free

So Several days since last post. Just a little...I don't' know... aloof at the moment. Well...never that calm. But calm enough. Hmm...Bi-polar...noway just a little eccentric. I've had a lot on my mind and just couldn't seem to blog.

Not much has happened. My buddy is in the talking mood. Not quite like before though. It seems just a little off. Wonder if it's just me. I have come to the conclusion...I think he gets worked up really easy. He seriously needs to relax a little bit. I have just the right combination for the remedy. I mean...just trying to help (insert devilish grin here)

I learned my neighbor is the president of the (hope I get this right) BS&M club. That's the Bondage and sado masochism club. Why did he feel the need to tell me this? I don't know? Do I just look like someone who is on the guest list at all the BS&M clubs? Hmm...so I practice martial arts and my idea of a good time is going to the dojo where you get kicked and hit...I do enjoy the occasional bite...I liked it when my buddy smacked my rear end one night but nobody ever else would get away with that...noway once again...just a little eccentric.

Anyways...so he's standing there while I am trying to get to the dojo and telling me all about this club. How he's a complete dominant personality and people just gravitate towards him. That he 'owns' his wife (she enjoys this apparently) but she doesn't wear her collar out. Now I've met the wife. She seemed pretty dominant. I guess pop a collar on and it changes all that for ya.
Hmmm....Nope I'll bite your damn hand off if you try and put a collar on me. Oh and you wanna say you 'own me' I'll give you a 10 second head start and you better hope I can't catch you.
He then goes on to tell me a little more and what do I do. Well hell join in the conversation and then quickly make a break for it. Now I want to go to one of these meetings. Just to see what they do and what they all look like. Curiosity killed the cat. Maybe I should remember that.

My pastor called and asked why I haven't been in church. Now what really could I say to that. I could have offered up "well, I don't want to be a hypocrite. If I go I know I'll have to give up a few things I'm doing or that's exactly what I'll be. You know the premarital sex, the sliding my skirt up a little at the red light next to the truck to watch the trucker look at my thigh". So instead I said "Well I guess it's just a responsibility and discipline issue. I lack on both some days. I can't tell you I will go this Sunday because then I would have to because I'm a woman of my word. But I'll tell ya I'll give it my best shot. I wonder if that answer sufficed. I could feel him kind of cock his head through the phone. The same way a dog looks at you like he knows what your saying but he just can't believe your saying it. Yeah that same look. I could feel it grasping me through the phone. So much I had to get off the phone quick to escape repenting right then and there.

Well what's been on my mind lately?

I've been reading this book lately. It's called 'confessions of a pagan nun'. It's pretty good. It is a recount of this lady back in the 1700's. She was an apprentice to a druid and then became a practicing christian nun. It's pretty neat. I love her freedom though. She couldn't be contained either. Her passion and zest for all of life. For life itself. I wish we could all live like that.
You know...just another side note.
We have this IT (computer dept.)guy in the back at work. There is just something a little compelling about him. Remember the whole priest incident. Yeah so do I. Well that's got nothing to do with this I just wondered if you remembered?

Well...no he's more like the guy you marry and then get freaky with in bed. He's not the guy you just get all freaky with and then cut him loose. That's weird. How do you distinguish between marry you and get freaky with and get freaky with then cut loose? HMMM...so if I just had that thought I bet men have had that thought...I wonder which girl I am????Now that is food for thought.

You know. This is really getting out of hand. All these different men. I've never even noticed so many men before. Well I was married why would I? But even when I wasn't. Goodness gracious. They are everywhere. All shapes. All sizes. All education levels. All knowledgeable in something in someway shape or form. A lot already taken so their off limits. But wow so many. Why am I noticing them all. I know what it is...dare I say...no I don't want to....why is it getting so hectic??? Is my clock ticking? I think it is. I think my restless, wild heart wants to be rode. I don't want to be bridled. I'm much to free. I don't want to be tamed. I'm much to wild. But I want to have I got it...I don't want to be rode I want a companion. I don't want anyone to hold my reigns. I want a companion. Someone who loves this life as much as I do who will run next to me. Someone who if either one of us trip we help the other to get back up again. Someone to run this race with. Someone who can keep me paced so I am not running full open. I want a companion. I want someone when I look into their eyes my heart is content. When I feel there touch my body is quieted. I want a best friend.

I don't want to run alone anymore.