FAT Tuesday.

I promise. I will stop with the thinking I'm fat soon.
Boyfriends can be such dicks sometimes. Good thing he's gone.

Aaaaaanyhoooooo.

So, I'm on the bus today and it was sunny and I had my tunes goin' and I took a long look at the Lake on the way in.
Hadn't done that for quite some time. I was kind of hoping for that calm glassy thing it does every once in a while. But no.
Churny today. Not real CHOPPY per se, just restless. Waiting for something. New Moon in Pisces. That must be it.

I'm fighting a cold.
And by fighting I mean holding it down and bashing it's fucking skull on the curb until it's teeth rattle out of its head.

What?! I don't like being sick!

I Don't Know What I've Done, but I Did it.

Reminds me of the first time.
terrified
electrified
finally free to move.

And though this time it wasn't in person
it feels just as goddamned scary.

Once There Was A Girl

Who was a very good girl.
But When She was Bad, she was Horrid.

And that girl is here.
In her very big bed
with a cat half as big..
he needs to be on senior food.

And she waits for the day when she won't have to wait
when she arrives and it will already be there.

With her construction paper heart with the doilie flair
and her initials and no one else's. (Gliiter!)
A breath,
A sigh
and a look to the sky that grows lighter
as we pass into spring.
Her 31st year.
Nothing is as she seemed.
and next year again she'll be a bridesmaid.
Oh jesus god. Not that cliche.
But yes...hasn't it always been THAT cliche?
A starving artist sticking it to the man
But no, it turns out that was only a disguise
to hide the longing and the hope and the dream
of something normal.
And now she builds normal out of scraps of what she
thinks
might fit.

The Middle of the Bed

For as long as I've had a double bed, I've kept to one side.
Well, NO MORE!!!
I've decided to migrate to the middle.
This is no easy transition.
I have two pillows and only sleep on one.
What to do with the other one?
Sleep in the center of them favoring one or the other depending on what side of my body I choose.
I wake up on one side again.
So, last night I used my decorative pillows as
rails.
Safety rails in manner of hospital bed to keep me in
the
center.
The transition
is progressing
nicely.

People are Assholes

At least some.
Especially pieces of shit who don't own up to their responsibilities like normal human beings.

I've got a few people in mind in particular who as far as I'm concerned can go suck a bag of dicks.

A Lot Changes in a Year

I won't be posting tomorrow.
Tomorrow I'm observing a silence.
There will be no red.
No flowers.
No cards. (well, maybe one from my mom. She's good like that.)
No calories.

Tomorrow is like any other day.

I'd really like it to mark the last day of my mourning period and a launch in to focus elsewhere.

I really want my butterfly feeder back though.

Is There Actually a Point?

Maybe it's my own irrational response to loss. But, these days, as "F-U Day" draws nigh, I am driven to examine the sense of love and relationships. In the past 6 months I've seen 2 marriages dissolve (one after 25 years) and 2 perfectly good relationships come to a meaningless end. What's it all for? You meet someone, you fall in love, and right there you have relinquished control of the outcome of things. You are at the mercy of that person's whims to stay or go.

As I said, I'm aware of my own irrational fear and response to loss. But, I don't think I can handle another morning after a breakup with someone I loved. That emptiness just takes too long to fill up.

They say, it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Yeah, sure. I was in love. Yay! I've been in love. But it's GONE. I'd rather not have experienced all that. I'd be a lot more hopeful. I'd still trust.

I admire the courage of the next man who I let to come into my life. I also pity him.
But maybe that's the point. Maybe I'm meant ot be alone for a long time so that I grow a little of my heart back and get rid of some of the blackness that's creeped in.

Scientology is Truly A Malevolent Force...

I...this last thing I have just read... there are no words.
Just..

Here:
http://news.softpedia.com/news/Scientologist-John-Travolta-Recommends-Unnatural-Birth-Behavior-For-Katie-Holmes-10030.shtml

Tom Cruise is the Devil

Well, it was bound to happen... more Tom Cruise proving his unholy alliance with the forces of evil and corruption:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11204770/from/ET/

Cut and paste that little baby and then come back here.

Back? Good. Let's chat.

Katie looks dead inside. Look at her eyes. It's like she's looked into the Dead Lights and the only hope is a break-neck ride down a hill on the handlebars of an old Schwinn thereby recapturing her innocence...her essence...


I truly believe that he is an Incubus. And not the "wouldn't it be cool and kinda sexy" type of Incubus. An Evil LIfe-Force Sucking Bag of Hate ultimately destroying all whom he comes into contact.

I'm afraid. Very very afraid.

My Hair Has Been Cut...

Not short... but STYLED.
I've never really been one for styling as I've always been rather low-maintenance in the appearance department. Long hair, all one length. Occasionally some layers. Now, I've been layered, textured, thinned, ovalled, and everything else in between.

Metaphor?

Maybe.

A favorite passage from Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome. published in 1889.

“It was a glorious night. The moon had sunk, and left the quiet earth alone with the stars. It seemed as if, in the silence and the hush, while we her children slept, they were talking with her, their sister - conversing of mighty mysteries in voices too vast and deep for childish human ears to catch the sound.

They awe us, these strange stars, so cold, so clear. We are as children whose small feet have strayed into some dim-lit temple of the god they have been taught to worship but know not; and, standing where the echoing dome spans the long vista of the shadowy light, glance up, half hoping, half afraid to see some awful vision hovering there.

And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and, though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone.

Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night's heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very far away beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but the angels of God.”

The Universe is in League With Itself...

and conspiring to keep my on my own.

OK FINE. I GET IT. I'LL BE BY MYSELF.

Apparently, this means "by myself" in the most real sense of the phrase.
No hookups.
No dates.
No entanglements whatsoever.


Also, is it a bad sign when one actually starts to count on things going awry? For instance...one plans something, in the back of one's mind says..."This is going to fall through anyway, so don't get too attached to the idea." Because that's what ends up happening 9 times out of 10?

Growing up, I would always hope that dad would show up to my various concerts and programs when he promised he would. But, somewhere in the back of my head I knew that he wouldn't be there. And most of the time I was right. (Don't worry, I've since forgiven him is ill-planned parenting). Now, I find myself doing it with the men in my life. And most of the time I'm right. So. Is it the guys I choose? Me? Or do I have some psychic link to people?

You make the call.
I have a meeting.

I Feel as Though I Should Write...

Keeps my mind off
I'm gonna try and give up
the naughty things.


Not a haiku...a verse DRESSED UP as a Haiku....you know, when you dress up for Halloween as your favorite fictional character...but there's something just off about it? Like...black jeans instead of leather pants. And the shoes. Man, if you don't have the right shoes...fucking forget about it.

Hmm.

This Just In...

I've actually started growing a spine!

Enough is enough is enough.

I'm not taking the abuse any more. Guys can go scratch as far as
I'm concerned until someone comes along who can actually prove that he
is capable of thinking 5 minutes away from himself and accepts me for
who I am and recognizes my needs as a woman.

And The Lord Spake Saying

"That woe is Diet Orange Soda as it is NOT the same as Regular."
Spake he further:
"Woe to those who do not treat others with compassion and empathy and acknowledgement for they are truly without compassion, empathy and acknowledgement...or something."
The Lord did continue Spaking:
"Lo, it is February 1. Thou hast made it through the first month of this our 2006th. This is cause for joy and revelling and drinking heavily in my name. Screw whomever told thee that thou hadst a problem.
It is my fervent wish and newly Dogmatic Law that thou dost go forth and do Karaoke and spread the Truth and the Way and the Beer!
And a pox on anyone who should dare get in your way."


Swear to God. That's exactly what He said.