tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51076523839870469882024-02-18T22:01:13.463-06:00Reality Bubbles of Anonymous AAnonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-53751559455378735272012-01-16T16:53:00.002-06:002012-01-16T17:17:30.631-06:00A New Year, A New Dream, A New GoalIt's been a long time since I've written here. I've had a lot of things that required more time and attention than the time I spent writing, reading, or really anything else.<br />I've spent almost four years trying to gather myself, trying to re-realize who and what I am and what I'm capable of. It takes time, it's a process.<br />I have a wonderful job- I love my boss, and I like what I'm doing. It's taught me a lot, really, about things. It has restored some of the fight that I had in me. And it is teaching me about process. My sainted mom has been telling me since I was a child that I can't make everything happen overnight, that I need to be more patient, that I should respect that there is a process involved in everything. My motto this year is "Life is not an event, it is a process." I've been totally made and broken by living like it's an event- extreme highs and lows, a hallmark of my persona. I don't want that anymore, I haven't wanted that for a long time, and I think I've finally gotten it together well enough to have some real control over myself and the events that happen in the process of living.<br />Going to school isn't news- I've gone to school for years before establishing this blog, and have remained in school since. But now, I have a real concrete goal in mind: I'm going to get my business degree in economics and go to law school. It's a viable form for me to have peace with myself, have a career that I can enjoy and excel at, and it's a way that I can have the positive change that I want to have- become the change I want to see in the world. It's going to require a lot of discipline that I'm still restoring, but it'll be there. It's happening now, and it's process with a goal in mind.<br />The problem I've always have with creating goals is that they're so lofty that I already have it in the back of my mind that I can't actually achieve them, but even if I fail I would have gone farther than most. I look at that now and know that's absolutely effing ridiculous- what sense does it make to set yourself up to fail like that? Law school is a reach, but it's not so far that it's not possible.<br />I've also started dedicated real time to restoring my body now that I've restored a good portion of my soul. It feels good to work out and look in the mirror and see obvious positive changes. I liked being a head-turner. The problem I've had for a long time is that I felt so old in my soul and in my brain that my body also felt old and I felt that it was wasteful to spend time trying to restore something so old and worn. The reality is that I'm 26. I'm a long way from old, even if I feel like it, but I will never be old if I don't take care of the business of my health, which deteriorated in ways that should never occur in a body my age. So, I've started working on that before it's too late to save it.<br />My soul is another story. I've restored myself a great deal in the past four years, but I can honestly say, living in the South makes me feel far away from the Divine. I find no place to go for that connection. Here, people are dedicated to their churches and their bullshit rules and judgements, not God. I cannot, will not enter a church of any description here. I still have to figure out what to do about that. I don't necessarily need a church, but I do want to share that experience with someone else because nothing delights me more than sharing a great experience with someone. I love to watch another experience happiness- it brings me more joy than having it for myself.<br /><br />It's a process. It's a matter of learning and living.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-31277711478667928492011-09-25T19:47:00.002-05:002011-09-25T20:05:30.425-05:00Soul-BareIt's been a long time since I've written- I honestly don't know if anyone reads, but it definitely feels good just to put how I feel or what's going on in my life out there. I suppose the correct term is "therapeutic". Everyone needs something like that every once in a while. It seems so often that the things I do lose "soul'- things like planting flowers are not joyful activities but things on a to-do list that is too long for any one person to actually accomplish. I rarely do anything because it actually gives me emotional fulfillment but rather mental peace- it's another item off of an infinite checklist.<br />I'm back in school, which means that the commodity of time is at an all time premium price. I'm a business major now, which means I get to do things like accounting and economics- time intensive and requiring full mental faculties. It's hard work, it's a lot of driving (I live 43 miles from school), but it's happening finally that I'm moving on so that I may have better tools to make a better life. Hopefully it'll be a fuller but more peaceful life. I realize I'm still trying to get a real steady foundation built, and I can't wait for the day that I get to actually build a frame.<br />I'm trying really hard to learn how to balance life. Sometimes, it's so much more important to stop and take a moment to enjoy what's around you- professors don't necessarily understand that, but I'm really beginning to get it.<br />Life is work, but life is also joy in tiny, lovely things.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-31145889405698594892011-07-15T21:05:00.002-05:002011-07-15T21:15:32.007-05:00Someone Like YouGood news: I got accepted into the four year university today. Yay for patience and multiple submissions of paperwork.<br /><br />Good news #2: I got to play the piano for FIVE hours today. It's the beginning of squelching the withdrawals I've had while I was living to work.<br /><br />Good news #3: I don't have my hardware store job anymore. Thank God. I hate that place.<br /><br />I had other plans, but because of the rain, I didn't get to follow through with them- mainly painting on my house. It's okay, though. I did a little bit of laundry, some dishes....and then it occurred to me: I have time to do something I enjoy.<br />So I sat down at the piano....that was at four this afternoon. It's now nine. I didn't realize I'd been playing for so long until I got up to go to the bathroom and get another drink. If there was the possibility of me having any job in the world, I would love to be a music teacher. The problem? I can't perform in front of anyone, and I don't know a band instrument. Both of these things are required to get your degree as a music teacher. This really is a case of "having nothing to fear but fear itself"- fear is what makes me choke up and mess up the notes. It's not that I don't know the song I'm playing- it's that someone is watching me do it.<br />I've never been a limelight kind of person. I like to stay kinda shadowy, I suppose, and this is why, though I love to play, I've never had any desire to play in front of someone. What I would want to do as a music teacher is just set one kid on fire with sound and have a passion for it as strong as mine. There are few things in life that can bring me such solace or joy as the right song at the right moment.<br />So, life is looking pretty sweet from among my black and white keys with college on the horizon. I can't wait to get that done so that I can get a real job making some money that isn't minimum wage. Maybe after I get done with that I can take more piano lessons and get better. Maybe someday I'll go back to school to be a music teacher.<br />Maybe someday.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-70124075218622305352011-07-10T01:22:00.003-05:002011-07-10T01:38:02.562-05:00Good Things Part DuhThere are things in life that I very much enjoy. The Boyfriend, for example, is one of them. Trivia is another. Music and coffee drinks are two more. What's the best- combining all of them and adding a sprinkle of friends! This is the plan for tomorrow.<br />Even though it's due to illness, I got the weekend off, and I have to say, I remember why I love this so much. I've cleaned a little here and there (which is no small feat when you have vertigo), and I've done a lot of sleeping and reading.<br />I'm reading a very interesting book called A Clockwork Universe, which is about the British Royal Society (which was stuffy British men with microscopes and telescopes- but brilliant nontheless), and the dawn of science as we know it. Some of the key figures in this book are some of my most beloved scientists- Sir Isaac Newton, Tycho Brahe, Copernicus, and Galileo. Granted, they're not all British, but still had huge parts to play in the world of science. The one thing that these men never tried to disspell was that God was real- that came later- but instead had the profound idea of God the Mathematician. It had never occurred to me that in those times, suggesting that the universe was heliocentric made people feel as if they were further removed from God and therefore undermined humanity's place, hence the backlash against the idea. I suppose I take this for granted, as it has never bothered me that I'm not at the center of any universe, and quite frankly don't feel that my place is a threatening one.<br />I'm also reading a book called Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks, who is a world renowned neuroscientist and psychologist. Who knew that there are people that have seizures if they hear a G sharp? I didn't before this book. But there's more to it than that- there's the cardiologist that, after being struck by lightening, becomes an obsessed and gifted pianist- after 43 years of having little to no interest in music and no skill whatsoever. Or the woman that had seizures when she heard Neopolitan music. There's more- I haven't finished the book yet- but so far it's definitely one I'd recommend. I think after this I'm going to swipe my dad's copy of The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by the same author. He does great research on a fascinating and wonderous topic- the brain and all it's misfunctions.<br />It's books like these, and articles in newpapers and online, that make me a queen of bullshit trivia. I revel in this- granted, much of the information I garner from my sources has little to no practical use except in livening a conversation. But still, it pleases me, so I continue to spend time on it.<br />Regardless, both books are great reads and they come highly recommended.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-6553074922807665142011-07-09T01:04:00.002-05:002011-07-09T01:18:11.205-05:00Wading Through The Red Tape Paperwork of CollegeThere's something to be said for anyone who navigates through the mess of college. I'm not sure what it was like in decades past, but today it's fraught with absurd amounts of paperwork, long periods of waiting, and hopes and dreams that the postal service will work. There is no one to give you a clear path to getting things done- it's up to you to navigate the choppy and unnavigatable waters of four-year universities.<br />I think it's a preliminary test to keep stupid people out- if you can't make it through, you don't deserve to waste your time and money here. Well, okay, let's be honest, that's probably more of a dream. I know that the PC thing to say is that everyone deserves an education, but the truth of the matter is that they don't: you don't deserve something you don't want to work for.<br />I'm currently going through the mess of trying to get myself into a four-year university. Why? I'm tired of being poor, and I'm tired of doing meaningless jobs. Both reasons are equal in rank. I want to do something that matters, but I want that something to keep a roof over my head and food in my dogs' bellies without me having to cast a prayer out to the Universe that I'll have enough to pay the electric bill too.<br />So, the new goal: to get my bachelors in economics and finance. Why? Because it's interesting and practical- everyone's concerned about money (moreso now than ever), and everyone needs help. The dream part: I open up my own financial advising center someday specifically to help small businesses. I believe in the mom-and-pop sector strongly, and so many of these companies fail because of terribly money decisions and a complete lack of advertising. Eighty percent die within the first five years of opening. I want the small businesses of America to make a come-back: in doing so, we could conceivably save our economy.<br />What I have to do to get there: 1) get back into college, 2) bust it to get my four-year degree 3)get a job as a financial advisor 4) take the test to become certified three years after getting that job.<br />I'm still on step one, but I'm getting it together. It'll happen. Nothing is forever, and the current state of affairs is not immune to that. I'm working hard to change things around.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-79360652988672863562011-07-03T23:59:00.004-05:002011-07-04T00:06:55.394-05:00Speaking Words of Wisdom Let It Be (Fourth of July)It's hard to explain the feeling of being American these days.<br />It's tiring, it's a battle, it's glorious that I can say whatever the hell I want, it's infuriating that other people can say whatever the hell they want, it's fantastic that we are supposedly guaranteed so many things, frustrating when none of those guarantees pan out.<br /><br />I suppose it's all just a double edged sword. And, like it or not, Americans still very much live by the sword- proverbially or otherwise. We will never be a nation at peace, a nation at rest. Our arrogance is in fact our saving grace.<br /><br />I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm poor. And there's thousands of us- but there's no Lady Liberty to run to.<br /><br />What is to become of us all?Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-91146763571947474302011-06-19T18:27:00.002-05:002011-06-19T18:36:53.667-05:00It's Been a Minute, Huh?It's been a long time since I've been on this blog. I've been too busy (and too broke) for the internet.<br />I've been trying to get it together, and I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself. I have a home that I love very much. It's soooooo much better than the last place I lived. It's a work in progress...but it's exactly what I want. It's modest, but nice, and it's my space. My dogs have a big backyard, and I've got a big garden in the front, and a flowerbed.<br />I got cable for the first time in five years yesterday. It was kind of a moment of triumph that I'm making it enough to afford cable and internet again. It's been a long time.<br />I have a new man, too, that has really enhanced the living experience. He's a little older than me, very kind, and a great head on his shoulders. He's kinda a big deal, mostly because he's what I've been waiting for.<br />Life's more bearable now than it has been in a long time. I'm lucky. I keep making it through bad situations and winding up in a better place than I was before the bad situation. I'm grateful for it, too.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-41198390696047054872010-12-27T09:34:00.002-06:002010-12-27T09:42:29.956-06:00Another Year Comin' On...I wonder what this one will be like. It's got to be better than last year, right? Maybe absolutely wonderful things will happen. That'd be nice. I'd appreciate it- but then, who doesn't appreciate good stuff?<br />This year didn't start so good, and it's not looking like it's gonna end so hot either. But, hey, there were good parts, right? You can't forget the good parts. Like they say, "Don't squander time, for it's the stuff life is made of."<br /><br />Skittles was attacked Christmas Eve by a dog. She's got two very large holes in her throat now, but neither are in a life-threatening area. They're just huge and quite frankly gross to look into. I have to clean them three times a day, so looking isn't optional. Poor girl- she has no idea she's little with the heart of a lion.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-60135869298902912592010-12-25T15:59:00.002-06:002010-12-25T16:29:18.394-06:00Christmas StoriesThere's always the good moments and bad moments of every year that people always remember, and this year will be no exception for me. But I think this will be one of my favorite Christmases.<br />First, I got a text message this morning from a boy I know that went north for the holiday. Well, more correctly, it was a picture message of snow on huge old fir trees. The caption below said "It makes me think of you." It made me smile. Living in south Alabama, if you get a white Christmas, it's because someone dumped washing powders all over your yard....or toilet papered your house.<br />But last night was most special.<br /><br />There's a friend of mine who has two young boys. Her husband is ex-military and works at Sears. She just recently was able to find another job, and so they've fallen on some lean times. So lean in fact, they really weren't going to have a Christmas this year to speak of. So, I called up a friend of mine, Charlie, and we concocted a plan to "Christmas" them. We bought them a tree, two boxes of 100 light strings, 100 ornaments, a stand, and presents for her kids. The plan was to deliver it on Christmas Eve. Charlie got called away, and I got terribly sick, so I had her come to my house (and leave her kids in the car because I was burning up with fever and wanted to minimize exposure). First, I handed her the presents, and she thanked me profusely. I could feel the grin on my face when I told her "Wait a minute, there's more". And then I took her to the garage, where the tree and the lights and ornaments were. The look on her face was priceless. I helped her load it up, and her kids, sitting in the backseat, were like "Wow, she got us a Christmas tree! Thank you so much!" Some other friends had gotten her boys presents, too, and they were laying in the back as well. And so, I sent them on their way as "Christmased" as they could be. She texted me later and told me one of her boys said this was his favorite Christmas ever, and honestly, I couldn't have been more pleased. I was so glad to do it.<br />I went over to my parents a little later, and I told them what we had done. I had already told my dad earlier because my dad had questioned why there was another tree in the garage. His reply was this: "Okay, little Jude. You know, she found someone to do that to every year." I didn't know this, actually, as my Aunt Jude had died when I was nine- but I'm constantly told how much like her I am. And my father, being THE quintessential storyteller, launched into his favorite story about one such time that they'd done the very thing we had done.<br /><br /><br />This woman dropped off her four year old daughter at her grandparents house. They lived in a two room shack at the back of a man's property, and the man that owned it let them live there for free because they were so old and frail and it wasn't really the kind of place that you could actually rent out anyway. There was a single bulb in it, hanging from the ceiling, and two electric outlets. Because they were so poor, they could not afford to do anything for Christmas, and they told the little girl that there was no Santa and that they couldn't afford to do Christmas. Well, Jude would have none of this. She went and got the old folks and the little girl on Christmas Eve and brought them to the family dinner, and my grandmother (who was a hair dresser) kept them occupied by fixing the old lady's hair and the little girl's hair. My Aunt Jude gave the little girl a frilly red dress to wear. Daddy said she looked just like a little princess doll. And while they were diverted, my dad and Jude's husband Jimmy, took a tree, ornaments, lights, and a boatload of presents (including a tricycle) over to the house and set it all up. When they were done, Jude loaded them all up again, and brought them home. When they walked in, my dad plugged in the lights on the tree, and being as it was dark, that's all you could see. The little girl's eyes lighted up, and she looked up at her grandparents and said "See? I told you there was a Santa!"<br />One of the best Christmas stories ever.<br /><br />Jude did this every year for a family, apparently. I didn't know it, but it's nice to have yet something else that links her and I together. That story was one of the best presents I got.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-47513753402880662422010-12-13T19:18:00.002-06:002010-12-13T19:27:12.969-06:00It'll Eat YouSeriously, how do people have so much time on their hands to be soooo miserable? Better yet, how did I do it for so long? It's more than annoying to me when every little thing annoys someone else and they feel the need to tell EVERYONE about it. It's like, "really? You have NOTHING better to do with your time?"<br /><br />In beter news, I got an amp for Christmas- well, pre-Christmas anyway. Apparently my father couldn't contain himself. I'm excited- it's not anything like what I was looking for, but I'm still excited. And I'll never tell him that. But...I wanted a 2x12 guitar amp, or a 1x12 with a minimum of 50 watts. What I got was a 35 watt keyboard amp- no 12 involved. I'm grateful anyway. I'll just get a MIDI cord and hook my keyboard up to it (because a guitar at a very moderate level overloads it) and continue looking for a guitar amp. I'll just hide the new one when he comes over. He was so proud of himself, I didn't have the meanness in me to go "Dad...this isn't going to work." It will work, just not for what I had originally intended to buy an amp for.<br />In other news, my nephew is slated to arrive at my house January 3rd. I had no intentions of living with anyone ever again, but he is family and he's coming to work and go to school. I'm hoping this goes well- it'll be nice to split the bills. I'll have a lot more cash unharnessed for things I'd like to do with it- like save and spend some. :)Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-91653023157223431792010-12-03T20:12:00.003-06:002010-12-03T20:38:47.276-06:00Mmmm, The Rock n Roll SnakeI've spent amazing amounts of money on music lately- not amazing because it's a massive amount, because it certainly hasn't been that. It's amazing that I've gotten so much for so little, actually. I bought every Red Hot Chili Peppers album that has ever been PLUS 4 Widespread Panic CDs for 7 dollars at a yard sale. SEVEN DOLLARS. Fantastic! Then, on a whim I went to Barnes and Noble, and lo and behold, they've got a sale on CDs. I got a Coheed and Cambria CD for (strangely enough) 7 dollars. As I mentioned, I also went legal with iTunes, and I've gotten a good number of songs from there as well. Music, music, music. Everywhere in my life.<br />I've recently been looking at buying a new amp for my guitar, also. I think it's time to go back electric. I love my acoustic, but I think it's time for a little bit of a change. Plus, since the neck of an electric is slimmer, I can do more chords on an electric. God shorted me in the finger department- meaning that my index fingers need to be about an inch longer than they are so that I could do any chord on any guitar. Sadly, when I try to bar chords on an acoustic with a thick neck, it sounds more like...pain and suffering. Not like pretty pain and suffering- there is no blues in it- just the ineptitude of a short finger pain and suffering. I suppose lofty goals of playing everything I hear is to blame...ah, probably not.<br />I come alive with music. I feel it sneaking, writhing even, coming up my spine like some kind of snake. And I can't help but move, to smile, to scream sometimes, drive fast. Sometimes, I can feel the strings of a guitar waaaaaay down deep in my belly, like my soul resides there and every note resonates perfectly....It's so hard to explain something like this. I wonder if there's anyone else who ever feels this. Anyone's mood can be altered with notes and phrases of sound- but can they literally feel it the way I do? I don't know- no one's ever said so. I'm sure the "greats" do- I watch them on stage and I can see it. But, I'm not a "great"- I'm a normal, everyday girl that's so in love with sound that I wonder if there's any room in that part of me for anything else.<br />Another musical memory:<br /><br />I was 19 years old, getting divorced, back at home with my mother, working at a seafood restaurant, going to school, and struggling hard to keep it all together. The feeling of failure was huge, a magnificent beast that just wouldn't let go of my jugular. The air show had come to town (like it did every year), and I had watched the Blue Angels practice manuevers over my house, but it had done nothing for me. I was on my way to work and dreading every moment of it. "Change" by Blind Melon was in the deck, and I was holding on to the lyrics like a security blanket. As I came down the road, the Angels were coming toward me at high speed, and as the words came from Shannon Hoon "keep on dreaming boy cause when you stop dreamin it's time to die", the Angels broke their perfect formation, and two went to each side, and one went straight up into the sky- and I whooped and hollered like something crazy, and "the beast" let go, and I knew right then and there that I would be okay. Shannon Hoon and the Blue Angels said so.<br />And they were right.<br /><br />Sometimes it just takes Angels and a junkie to be okay.<br /><br />....And sometimes it's necessary to be bitten by a snake.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-7175035291372831292010-11-26T18:50:00.003-06:002010-11-26T19:06:35.170-06:00It's the Weekend....It's so nice to have the weekends off. So. Nice.<br />I can't say it enough- I'm loving my life. I knew the pendelum would swing the other way, eventually...nothing is forever, right?<br />I'm more "me" than I've been since I left Michigan. No apologies anymore. Not one. And no more prisoners. There's peace here. It comes from an unburdened heart and a peaceful soul. I surprise myself sometimes, because instead of being angry and "doom, doom, doom", like I have been for a while, I'm like "it's all gonna be okay. It'll be over soon", and I cheerfully smile and go along my way.<br />I've got so much good in my life, and it's no longer being overshadowed by a looming foreboding. I always knew that there was good, but it sometimes gets clouded by massive shitstorms, ya know?<br />I got a special hug today. My friend Amber is not much of a touchy person, EVER. She always looks uncomfortable when I hug her goodbye, but I do it anyway, because I love her, and in the event that I never make it home or something happens between that day and the next that I'm supposed to see her, I always make sure she'll know I cared about her. (Side note, I don't leave my parents without hugging and kissing both, and telling them that I love them- and no friend gets left without love, either). If there's going to be a last memory of me, I want it to be a loving one. Anyway, she texted me a few days ago, and it said "We've got a problem." And when I tried to call her back, no answer. No answer for three days, and I couldn't track anyone down that had talked to her. So, today after work, I drove to Headland to see about her. I knocked on the door, and she threw it open and said "You DO love me! You're the only one!" and hugged my neck ferociously. I laughed and said "of course I did. I didn't know if you were dead, in jail, crying in a corner, what. I came to see you. Now, why the hell don't you answer your phone?" Turns out, her boyfriend was trying to do something nice and did the laundry...and laundered her phone at the same time. But, she's safe. And she knows I love her. :)<br />I love all the women in my life. They're super amazing- I'm constantly in awe of them. I understand why men think we're magic because, hell, I am a woman, and I think we're pretty damn magical too. I meet new amazing women everyday, too. It's so awesome. It makes me giddy. I love my men, I do. And there's a great many of them that I wouldn't trade the world for- but there's something about women that can just make you say "whoa". I'm so glad I am one of them.<br />I'm grateful for my life and the people in it every day. Thanksgiving seems rather blase to me because I remember everyday that it doesn't have to be good, and by good fortune I have great people in my life, and my dogs, and a home. I have love, friendship, food, and a roof over my head- this is so much more than so many. I'm truly lucky and humbled by the favor of the Universe.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-90307902359725820652010-11-22T20:57:00.002-06:002010-11-22T21:04:45.004-06:00Rockin ItI recently went legal- that is, I started using iTunes. Why? Because limewire is under attack from the Feds. I'm not upset about it- I mean, I just bought a bunch of songs I like. I don't mind spending 99 cents- I do mind buying an entire album with one good song and fourteen fillers.<br />Oh, changes.<br />I'm still enjoying my job, still having a good time. I'm not getting ahead of myself. I'm more relaxed than I've been in a long time. I get to go out on the weekends now- and I don't have to listen to bitching. Single suits me sooo well. I get to have fun when I want to, I don't have anyone to clean up after or cook for besides myself. It's good stuff. And, I've got time to make new friends, which I've been doing in abundance lately. I may as well face the fact that I do have as much of a natural inclination to be social as I do to be alone. I love to be around people- when I actually want to be around them. Lol, go figure right?<br />I bought silk thigh high stockings today. Why? Because I've always wanted some. And it feels good to treat myself like that- even though I don't know when I'll ever wear them....but then, I do have a pencil skirt and red high heels. It may have to happen. I love flirting (and I've missed it sooo much), and there's nothing better for an ego than to walk into a place and watch everyone watch me. It's not insecurity, it's just a love of attention.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-71020472681736156272010-11-20T18:40:00.002-06:002010-11-20T19:14:14.712-06:00Swing Swing From The Tangles of My HeartI decided a while ago that I was going to live with dignity, clean up my act, and quit letting my more animalistic side have so much free reign in my life. Basically, it's been an exercise in being "civilized" and trying to be more restrained- you know, quit letting my mouth run away with me (what I fondly call "word puke"), quit letting my "drives" take over. Become cerebral.<br />What I've found is that this is harder said than done multiplied by eleventy billion. I am not good at not saying exactly what I think, I am not good at saying no to things that I want sooooo bad. But, I've done it. And I deserve a goddamn cookie.<br /><br />Here's why:<br />1. There's this man, you see, that has more than picqued my interests (if ya know what I mean :p). And, despite every fiber of my body screaming "you want it, have it", I listened to my brain, and I spoke my mind, carefully. I told him no- because I don't want to be a number and I deserve better than that. I want something more meaningful in my life than a good memory of what happened once upon a time.....and delayed gratification is one of the juiciest things in the world. :) See? Still managed to sneak a tease in there....<br />And he said "I don't want you to be a number either."<br />Gold star for me! And a gold star for him, too.<br /><br />2. While walking across the street in Abbeville, a really gross guy came walking up, wanting to know if I was married, and, hesitantly, instead of lying and being mean and giving him a lesson in pick-up etiquette, I said "no", and continued on my way. Then he said "then put your number in my phone", and held it out to me. And, instead of unleashing on him, I said "Um, no. Thank you and goodbye". Waaaaaaaaaaaay nicer than anything I would've done two months ago.<br /><br />Gold star!<br /><br />3. I have restrained myself from doing any illegal activities, buying CDs or movies, or clothes. I've put my money away for bills and savings. This isn't new- but I've been wanting all these things for so long.<br /> Gold star!<br /><br />And, as we all know, three gold stars means a cookie.<br /><br />I've made a new friend at work. Her name is Kat, and she's awesome. She's sooo pleasant, so nice, so much fun. I enjoy her company every single day because nine times out of ten, we're experiencing technical difficulties and we can't do anything but sit and wait. We mix very well and we're very comfortable with one another. She's one of the rare souls that I immediately liked and trusted. Apparently, we also favor physically, because most of the people that we work with think that we're sisters or cousins. She's got long brown curly hair like mine and we share skin tone, but that's about it. But people keep saying we favor in the face...and we don't see it. But whatever. Maybe she's a sister in soul. :) It is good to have a new friend.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-53971923823592795042010-11-17T20:12:00.002-06:002010-11-17T20:24:41.625-06:00It's Been a Long, Long Time....Life has changed so much recently, and all for the better. I moved into a nice three-bedroom, two bath house with a big fenced in back yard (perfect for the puppies). I started a brand-new job that I like, I live a little closer to my parents. I don't work on the weekends. Good stuff. Thank God. It needed to happen.<br />I'm always grateful for change, honestly. And I'm humbled by the Universe's gratitude- and my parents. If it hadn't been for them, this could've turned into an absolute nightmare. But it's all good.<br />I'm doing my best to become a better person, still. I'm trying really, really hard to become really even-tempered. Like, so chill that I'm almost comatose. And I'm living with some dignity. I have more self-respect for myself than I think I've ever had...probably because I'm making it all by myself.<br />There are few things I love more than coming home to an empty house and happy dogs. It's lovely. I don't have to cook or clean for anyone but me. Call me selfish, but I love it. I have friends that come over all the time, so I'm not alone if I don't want to be. My friend Nicole has started staying with me every Saturday night- which is soooo much fun. She comes over after work, we get ready, and we go out somewhere, sometimes a bar, sometimes just dinner. We go home to my house and fall asleep to a movie, and the next day we get up and go to my parents' house for breakfast. This weekend, she's coming over and we're making hair clips and going out. It'll be awesome. It's been sooo long since I've had a friendship like this- and I've missed it. My friend Amber is the coolest, though- she and I level in a really awesome way. I've missed her a lot- between work and working on my home, and Nicole coming over on Saturdays, I haven't seen her in two weeks. It's all gonna change this weekend- I'm gonna take her out to our favorite restaurant and treat her to some good quality chill time. Can't say I'm short on men these days either- but I'm maintaining a respectful distance. I'm having too much fun to get involved, and I'm sick of being involved anyway. It's time for a break, a respite from male bullshit. I'm enjoying life too much to be lonely.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-86261889792069747442010-10-20T19:23:00.002-05:002010-10-20T19:39:17.457-05:00Call My NamePerhaps the most powerful motivator in the world, next to the trappings of survival, is love. It may be love for love's sake, love of cake, love of power, love of torture, love of G.I. Joe, or anything else- but it makes people do things that they would never in their right mind do. Love drives people to madness. It turns otherwise normal people into veritable the veritable puddle jumpers of life. Sometimes, you will land in clear and calm water...other times, you're shit outta luck and it's every person for theirself.<br />I think I've well navigated every single one of the puddles that needed a warning label. I don't think I've left one unexplored. I've haphazardly jumped from one to another since before I had any business doing so, and I feel it's all just added up to a calamity. What happened? I can't really say...I'm still fuzzy on the details. I'm not sure that you can say, though, that I can boast so good a thing as to proclaim "it was all for love". I've haphazardly fallen into the majority of things that have happened to me. By making no choice, I still made a choice, and thus whatever befell me was just as much my own fault as it was no one's. Am I still mired in shit? Absolutely. But I've decided to make a decision about it instead of calmly taking it all in.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-21946429641232990742010-10-15T01:07:00.002-05:002010-10-15T01:34:24.406-05:00You're Pissed about WHAT?The French people are apparently hoppin' mad and have taken to the streets. Why? Because their government wants to change the retirement age to 62 (still three years before the average American, and something like 7 years before most people actually attempt retirement), and (gasp!) they want to change full-time work status...to 32 hours a week. Now, in America, once again, we aren't considered full-time or eligible for ANY benefits unless we're working 35 or more. But, worse still, we work even more than that if at all possible because we can't live otherwise. I'm not entirely sure what they're pissed about. That equals out to be only 4 days a week for an average 8 hour shift. And working two more years isn't going to kill you. From the American perspective- and especially from an American of the working poor socioeconomic class- this sounds like an absolute DREAM. The average British citizen thinks Americans are nuts because they don't take or are not allowed "holiday"- they get, on average, at least 6 a year, including a long term vacation. In Italy, they shut everything down in the afternoon, and every one gets a nap before they get up and go to eat their evening meal- mind you, they also got an hour for lunch, and the day doesn't start until 8 or so for the average city dweller. Europeans have faaaaaaaar more luxury time than any American that isn't filthy rich. I'm thinking they get a pretty sweet deal, but this is obviously not a shared viewpoint. I'd love it if life could work any of those ways. I mean, the only "holiday" most Americans get in a year is when they have a family emergency. We don't get to flit all over the place and have lots of fun. We're nose-to-the-grindstone. We are a 24 hour, 7 day a week nation, and we're tired. The French shouldn't bitch. They've got a really good deal. I wish Americans cared enough to get out and protest the ludicrous amounts of bullshit that happen on Capitol Hill every day.<br />A senator from Nevada had some shit to say about Dearborn, Michigan, and it's largely Muslim population. She speculated that, because of its large demographic of Muslims, that Sharia law is practiced there. First of all, why is she worried about Dearborn, Michigan? They're not her constituents. Second of all, Sharia law is most definitely NOT practiced in ANY part of Michigan. But- "she read some articles that made her think that it was happening, and she felt it necessary to address it because no law should be practiced other than American law". Really, lady, really? How about we protest stupid people being allowed to run for Congress? I mean, the only rules regarding running for a senator or representative position are that you are an American citizen and own a home in the area that you are trying to represent. Why don't we demand IQ tests, or even better, that they are rigorously tested to make sure they have a highly functional knowledge about economics? Why don't we demand that the electoral college, an archaic institution that has little to no value to a public that is so accessible such as ours become, be abolished and that the popular vote be the ruling voice? Why don't we protest that WE, the people, have no voice at all anymore?<br />Then there's places like Africa, when there are problems such as inaccessability to clean water, rampant epidemics of non-curable disease, female genital mutilation, and in fact, genocide. There's still race wars there- thousands of women in the Congo have been raped and killed just because they lived in the wrong village at the wrong time. The problems in Africa are so enormous that one can't possibly list them all.<br />I'm happy that the French believe they are entitled to things and are willing to take steps to get what they want. But, seriously, in light of everything else in the world, I'm not sure why this made the news. And I'm not sure why it is that they feel they're being cheated. Two more hours a week, and working two extra years seem like a drop in the bucket. Only if everyone else were so lucky that this was the worst that happened to them.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-78615796663482950572010-10-08T12:41:00.003-05:002010-10-08T12:50:12.247-05:00Free-domCool things happened, or will happen soon:<br />1. I got into my new house and started cleaning and painting it this week.<br />2. A customer of mine paid for lunch for my friend and me yesterday without me knowing it. He's a nice man anyway, but I just thought it was the sweetest thing ever.<br />3. I made some new friends.<br />4. I bought cheap gerbera daisies and violas. I'm intending to have an Alice-in-Wonderland garden so that I can justify singing "Oh the flowers....we could sit and talk with them for hours...in a world all my own" while I garden. (You know, from the Disney film!)<br />5. My oldest brother and my nephews are coming down this weekend to help me with cleaning up my house and laying the new floor.<br />6. My friend Nicole bought me a candle as a housewarming present, and according to her its so awesome she wishes it were hers. Can't wait to see it.<br />7. My landlord is going to PAY ME to paint the outside of the house. I'm excited for this.<br />8. I saw Kindal last week, whom I haven't seen in a few months. That was a happy moment.<br /><br />All in all, not bad huh? I'm kinda glad. I needed an upswing in life. :) And a sign...and I'm getting them. :)Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-38397869996856920072010-10-04T13:29:00.002-05:002010-10-04T13:40:54.620-05:00A Letter to DivinityDear God-Person,<br /> I'm never quite sure how to address you. You've got so many faces- atoms, flowers, rocks, etc. So, forgive me if I got it wrong. We're cool, though, so I'm sure you got this.<br /> I got a favor to ask. I'm floundering around again, trying to figure out what to do. This is very exhausting- kinda like treading water for long periods of time. I would like to do the right thing, even though I'm not entirely sure what the right thing is. I would like to be a better person, and once again, I'm not sure how to do that. I'm hyper aware of the dangers down here. Please, please, help me find some peace. I know that I'm being prepared for things down the road...but a respite from so much training would be lovely. Basically, my favor is to help me out here. I know signs are for the weak, and I'm okay with being weak and needing them. Just give me something to show me I'm doing the right thing. I'm never sure anymore.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-7634607819402173732010-10-04T01:57:00.002-05:002010-10-04T02:20:22.388-05:00Re-Sanctifying SundayToward the end of the movie "Diary of a Mad Black Woman", there's a 10 second shot (more or less) of a table loaded with Sunday dinner. It's apparent that it's Sunday dinner only because the shots before it were in a church. There's fried chicken, greens, corn bread....all kinds of good food. And it made me think of Sundays, well weekends in general, at my house when I was younger.<br />My grandmother was very much alive and well then, and she lived with my parents and I. My mother had gone back to work when I was nine and we were in Iowa, and from that time until we moved to Michigan when I was fourteen, she lived with us. She cooked breakfast in the morning- eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits from scratch, and gravy also from scratch. If we had left over mashed potatoes from the night before, she would make potato pancakes, and I swear that I could eat a baker's dozen of those even when I was nine. They were heavenly! For dinner, we'd have absolutely scrumptous soul food- fried chicken, black eyed peas, green beans, okra, squash, things of those nature, and always a pone of cornbread, and at least once a week a from-scratch peach cobbler.<br />When I was 11, we moved to north Alabama, the Motherland. My mother's entire family has lived there for generations untold, and my brothers and their families had chosen to live there as well (of all the places they had traveled, mind you). My house became a constant hustle and bustle of people- young nephews, sister-in-laws, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, my friends, long-time family friends, my paternal grandmother visited often...everyone. And the kitchen became even more important, and there was always something being cooked. As time went on, a number of these people actually came to live with us- my nephews became permanent fixtures. The oldest two and I shared a bed, the baby slept in a crib at the foot of that bed, and he was my responsibility mostly.<br />Saturday morning breakfast was my responsibility as well. As I had made sure my nephews were well-read at their young ages, they had a love of Dr. Seuss. So, green eggs and ham- which was usually bacon- was the menu for the kids (colored with food coloring of course), and then the adults got their requisite coffee, biscuits, gravy, and bacon. But Sundays...<br />That was always my mother and grandmother's doing. And it was a spread the likes of which I'm sure few families know. There was so much food that we'd still be eating it on Monday. There were so many people to feed, usually somewhere around 20 or 30! So, Mama and Granny made heaps of fried chicken, potatoes, okra, green beans, greens, and the corn bread was made in the biggest cast iron skillet we owned- coincidentally, it is also the biggest one made. Sometimes, there was fried fish, steaks, meatloafs...sometimes it was Cajun fair, the likes of which no one can explain because it's the best stuff you could ever put in your mouth.<br />I remember being so whole and complete then, and especially on Sunday nights. The weekends always brought so much work- this is when heavy duty cleaning was done, any repairs that weren't of an emergency nature, all the laundry and ironing was done, and there was entirely too many children to keep up with and to keep away from the stove. There was football in the backyard, or baseball, skateboards in the front, music blasting, so much laughter. Weekends were special- the time of total togetherness. But Sundays...they were special, sanctified.<br />I can't remember the last time I sat down to Sunday dinner....it's been years. And it's been well over a decade since we had togetherness like that. Madea reminded me of them. And I've decided that, upon starting my new job this coming November, that I will jump start the tradition. I'll have everyone I can over for Sunday dinner, ever single Sunday. I miss it. It was well worth all the effort, and it'll be worth the effort to have it again. I will re-sanctify an almost archaic tradition, especially in American society. We live in a country where time equals money, and time spent not working is money lost instead of enjoyment gained. It's time I gain something that can't be spent, but is invaluable. I'm taking back Sundays.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-51197707571054179052010-09-30T19:10:00.002-05:002010-09-30T19:45:22.630-05:00ChangingIf it seems to you that my life is forever in flux, you'd be right. Most people's lives are such, but few get to see such a balance of extremes. Things go from very good to very bad, and I try to catch up. When it's good, I prepare for the pendelum swing, and when it's bad I remember the good so as to combat it. Change is inevitable, and it's as constant as the seasons- we have little control or choice in the matter. The only alternative to change is stagnation, which is like death and devolution. So, I choose life and change.<br />Now, I do not pretend that I love all the changes that take place in my life, because I certainly do not. But, I accept them and hold to the belief that all things "come out in the wash", as the saying goes. One may not be able to choose all the things that happen in life, or even when it happens, but one can choose to celebrate instead of mourn. In midst of all the erractic things of life, this is one thing that you can have and hold for your own.<br /><br />You may mourn the death or celebrate the life<br />You can sit down and weep or stand and laugh at strife.<br /><br /><br /><br />I talked to a boy today that has an immense amount of talents and abilities at his disposal. He's in school, only a year away from graduating and becoming a substance abuse counselor. He wants to join the navy because he feels an immense pull for him to do so- who can argue with that? But he wants to quit school now and join. I urged him otherwise: go in the military if you want, but go in after finishing school so that you can be an officer. He told me he didn't want to be an officer because he didn't believe he had the skillset to be an officer. I became slightly exasperated- "what is it with people thinking everything should come so easily and naturally?" was the thought- and told him: "i'm sure Patton wasn't PATTON in the beginning. There's a learning process, even if you have the natural ability, just like with music." (He's a drummer, so this was very applicable to him.) He laughed and said I made sense (which I'm aware of). Let's see if my words were enough to encourage him to postpone going into the military at least long enough to get his degree. My other piece of advice was this:<br />"do what's going to cause you the least amount of regret. You will never regret having a degree but one day you might regret that you don't." I for one, think that he'd make a great officer- he's no Patton, but he could be someday (even though I'm very well aware that Patton was Army, not Navy). Why not dream when you can?<br />For me, it seems times of dreams are over. Reality has a firm grasp on me, and it only becomes more apparent every day. My mother had to have emergency surgery last week (thankfully, she's fine now). My father, honestly, can't handle a crisis. He is very much not in control of himself as a general rule, but when things get crazy, he flies to pieces. When I got to the hospital, he did calm down ever so slightly, but on the phone he sounded absolutely crazy. My mother is his "rock"- without her, my dad doesn't do well. My brothers, however, didn't even make it a point to call until days later- despite being made aware of the situation. It's very evident that I cannot entrust my parents to my brothers, and that, as they age, that their care will fall on me. While my parents are in relatively good health, despite the fact that they're nearing 70, it is inevitable that they're going to need help, especially my father. He worries me most of all. His mind seems to be slipping- he's so forgetful of everything, he's extremely volatile emotionally. My father, who has been engineering all his life, can no longer accurately make measurements, and this is most troubling of all. So, in looking down the highly possible realities of life down the road, I have decided that I will stay very near them. Staying here is, quite frankly, an awful prospect, but worse is the idea that my parents, who have remained my faithful cavalry my whole life, may need me and I will not be around to return their unfailing love and care. So, here I stay. And I begin the process of building a permanent life, instead of transient one, which is something I've never known in my entire 25 years. I'll do my best. I'm very thankful that while I was not blessed with being the most beautiful or the most athletic, I was blessed with immense personal strength and conviction and sense enough to know how to use what has been given to me. I feel that eminently it will be put to the test.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-89732684835752898232010-09-30T00:34:00.003-05:002010-09-30T00:39:43.237-05:00Life and Its ChoicesThe possibilities are endless. Humanity limits itself in such a way so that life isn't so huge and more manageable. For me, I do what I can deal with in my soul. I have the thought, "now, in ten years, how well is this going to sit with me?" In other words, I will not burden my soul with something that I don't think I can deal with in the far future.<br />As we grow older, we become limited by fear and a lack of resources- whether these are real resources or just the capacity to figure out a way to circumvent an obstacle is irrelevent. I understand the logic of this. But, as Spock in Star Trek learned, the logical decision is not always the best one to make. So what if there's only a 4% possibility of success? If it's the right thing to do, then that is what must be done.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-53469186768945083672010-09-17T17:55:00.002-05:002010-09-17T18:30:36.157-05:00Stir It UpTo You, "Beej"- I tried to tell you that shrimp dish sounded awful. I'm sorry it actually turned out that way, especially since it took so much time and effort. I can't comment on your blog for some reason. So, I'll comment on your blog...on my blog? Lol. It'll be all good.<br /><br />I just finished reading <em>Before the Legend: The Life of Bob Marley. </em>Marley has always been one of those iconic people in my life, someone that's so magnificent in a way that it becomes acceptable to know nothing about them but still find them to be amazing. I decided it was time to learn a little something about the man that wrote songs so good I attached memories and smells (yes, even smells, and not just that of ganja) to them. And there's nothing like reading about a man before he had anything at all, because it's what we do when we have nothing to lose that really exemplifies our character.<br />Nesta Marley (Bob's first name) was a truly remarkable man in so many ways- known for fabulous work ethic while being absolutely baked, the strong silent kind, the post-conventional thinker, and, quite frankly, a smooth seducer. I figured I would read all of these things- being a musician, and furthermore actually making it in the music business (and maybe even moreso, making it out of Jamaica) requires extraordinary amount of work and talent, and his songs are so seductive that it is hardly befitting for them to come from a man without the skills. Rita Marley, his wife, though, has an interesting story- I'd love to hear her side of things. Bob brought to Rita the various children (living proof) of his various affairs to live with them in their home- because he wanted all his children to live together. I wonder if he ever thought of how this would make her feel- and furthermore, did the other mothers ever actually agree to this? And how tortured was Rita to take these children of her husband that were not hers? I infer that she's a woman of saintly virtues- because, fantastic musician/lover or not, I would've done terrible incapacitating things to his penis in his sleep after he brought home the first child. If there's anything I learned from Greek stories and myths, it is that every hero has a flaw, and I found Bob's. But, I half expected it, so it wasn't as disheartening as learning that my beloved Gandhi regularly abused his wife when they were young.<br />I can accept the errors of my heroes because they did such great things otherwise, and we're human- so we're going to fail at something. I do not, however, have the same forgiving nature of those in the inner sanctum who haven't proven themselves, and especially not myself. I expect more from them and me than I will ever expect of anyone else....I suppose that's why I'm rarely impressed with anyone. But, at the same time, while I ruthlessly expect more, I easily forgive shortcomings (except my own) when someone has truly done all they can do (by my measure). It's because I believe we all have the capabilities of being Gandhis, Marleys, Claptons, Sabans, Ritas, Laylas, Chanels, etc, if we just try for it. It's like the old saying "I'd rather shoot for the star and miss by a mile than shoot for the stump and miss by an inch". That's how I live. Everyday. No exceptions.<br />But, I'm listening to Marley. If there was ever a sound of "not working", it is this one. This is the sound of "have a good time"- which is something I've forgotten how to do. It's time to go remember how. Now.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-84673784823204035942010-09-15T17:10:00.002-05:002010-09-15T17:28:00.406-05:00"What We Have "Chere" His..."a constant rate of poor judgement and failure. Albert Einstein once said that insanity is engaging in the same acts repeatedly and expecting a different outcome- by his standard, I am indeed insane. I certainly feel that way. Apparently I have no capacity for making good choices with men- and I'm sadder about that than I am the waste of time.<br />My father told me this morning that I need to get a life. He said "all you've done is work and go to school. Go get a life, get a <em>social </em>life. Go have some fun. Leave off school for a while." Nothing like having a father's blessing to be a slack ass for a few months, right? In response, I'm going out tonight with a friend that I've been promising time to for a long time now.<br />Then I come home to relax and pack up my stuff. I'm moving back in with my parents. I'm tired of these personal revolutions. Really, I am. I'm ready for life to quit putting me through the spin cycle. I've decided that, in an effort to derail this vicious spin cycle, I'm going to go monastic- meaning that I'm not going drink, smoke, or have any dealings with mankind. I'm going to try really hard to drop "fuck" from my vocabulary totally and meat as well. In short, I want a clean life with less hassles. I'm going to make an effort to do 10 minutes of meditation every day, because surely to God I can afford to give myself 10 minutes a day. I'm planning and dreaming and scheming...hoping that life will become better soon. Hoping that I'll learn the error of my ways even quicker.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5107652383987046988.post-18078290458803047292010-09-15T01:47:00.002-05:002010-09-15T01:53:07.148-05:00WHORES!They make my life better. Why and how? Because, despite what my mother always told me, trash will indeed bond with itself and take itself out. Fabulous, really, this trash.<br />So glad I use high quality bags, or else I may worry that I'd end up with trash on me. But, I do put forth the extra effort. That's what keeps the palace clean, you know- efforts and good bags.<br /><br />By the way, I'm trash free.Anonymous Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06439330011078900611noreply@blogger.com0