Flat out

Tis the season and I am flat out. With my journeys to Shreveport over the last three weeks, work and this holiday thing... shrug... can't keep up.

Go see Tracy or Neil. They are bursting with the spirit. I just don't have it in me yet. I am heading to lovely New Mexico for the holidays. My aunt has a house on the Colorado border. Hopefully I'll see a White Christmas and sing some Bing. Maybe learn to ski.

I will quit my complaining, pack my bags, and be on my merry way. I may put in a Poetry Thursday post or let you know if I learned to fry hushpuppies ( another story for another time)/

Happy Holidays; Hanukkah, Christmas, and Kwanza.

Ponce de Leon (Poetry Thursday)

Will you tell me a story Ponce de Leon?
Did you accomplish all you wanted?
I sought the world too
Our paths from there diverged

I moved on from the place where I first knew your name
Friends came with me for part of the way
In the middle of the journey
Curiosity had me questioning fundamentals

On San Francisco Street we saw the mourners
Gathered in one place moving in a haze
We sat among them, separate still
Anxious to move onward to the canyon

Stopping to reassess what I have garnered
Your old letters I sifted through
To hear about the places you have been
I held your hand trying to divine your thoughts

Questioning the concept of faith
I believe you searched for the wrong grail
Along with your lessons, I have found
Hope is the spring of rebirth

For Poetry Thursday, the assignment was to incorporate the streets names into a poetry journal of our travels. I decided one street would be my inspiration and another a landmark of where I had been.

Poetry Thursday -Cam's meme

1. The first poem I remember reading/hearing/reacting to was ...
Poem of the Road, Walt Whitman; Leave of Grass
2. I was forced to memorize (name of poem) in school and ...
Some Shakespearan Sonnet. Don't remember which one.
3. I read/don't read poetry because ...
I don't buy a lot of poetry books without a good reason. I like reading poetry, but I tend to read more fiction.
4. A poem I'm likely to think about when asked about a favorite poem is ...
Not sure I have a favorite poem. Whitman is my favorite poet but I?s have a hard time picking a favorite.
5. I write/don't write poetry, ...
I write poetry to expression to my feelings and thoughts. Prose doesn't always allow me that outlet.
6. My experience with reading poetry differs from my experience with reading other types of literature... I digest poems I've read more than I do prose.
7. I find poetry... Beautiful.
8. The last time I heard poetry ... Last summer in a Maine Poetry reading.
9. I think poetry is like ... songs taking flight.

Ontology

I am one
I am all

The sum of my experiences
All who have touched me
Have I touched
Simultaneously

Memories live
through the spheres of others
A line no longer intersects
Becoming parallel to those I used to know

Intertwined
celebration and transition
Life and Death
Both begin and continue
A journey of one step

I am one
I am all

For Mary Wineinger
1916-2006
Beloved Grandmother

The Darndest Things

Being a single non-parent, I love talking to parents on the phone. I hear phrases I would never hear otherwise, especially while a child is under going potty training.

Maria: Sloane! Did you just pee on the floor? You're sticky!
Sloane: No mama.

Aileen: Iris! Do not drink out of the toilet!

Maria: Sloane! Quit throwing the clean laundry in the air. Put the clothes down. I mean it. Now!
and in the next breath: Austin get down. You are not allowed to climb to the top of couch and jump off.

Aileen: I've got to go. Iris has to go to the bathroom and if I am not there it could get messy.

Most of the time the next sentence I hear is an apology from the parent saying he/she has to hang up. I am usually laughing too hard to reply, "Just put the receiver down. I'll hold. I need the laugh." I love listening to the potty training years most of all.

I was looking forward to hearing some of these parent - kid exchanges in person. The last of my miles were expiring at the end of the December. I HAD to use them, and I did, last weekend. I went back to Atlanta! Turns out, these exchanges only happen on the phone.

My other goal for this trip was to complete my holiday shopping for the kids. Having completed the mission early Saturday, the kids, Maria, and I went to see Happy Feet. We left the theater with both kids tapping their feet through the movie parking lot, in Borders, and up the walkway at their house. Needless to say; great movie.


Go Mumbles! You are my new hero.

Doo Doo

I got nothing this week to post except for the love of a dictionary. It's a slow week creatively.

This week's Poetry Thursday is to create a poem out of obvious lies; the sky waxes green when the moon rises. I would have thought creating obvious lies would have sent my juices soaring. Oh well.

On the way to work, I thought about no longer valid pop references such as Alex P. Keaton and the eternalness of other references like Spicoli. Sometimes I feel old.

A friend once advised such thoughts, like feeling old, were poisonous and my thinking those thoughts were a contradiction. Maybe he thought those thoughts were a contradiction because I had only just showed him the saliva chewed crackers in my mouth.

Hey, doesn't everyone like a little seefood?
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Poetry Thursday Poems to read this week:
Square Traveler
RenKat
Madd

Actually just hit the comments section. All the entries this week are excellent.

Dictionary

After having a conversation about writing with Tiff, I realized I had not seen my dictionary in awhile. I think I left one of my favorite writing tools at a former job. And while the internet dictionary suffices, it does not produce the same neurotic fix I need from holding the definitive grail.

I have a need with a bound dictionary around to look up words I know, peruse for words I don't, and investigate synonyms of words in the same alphabetical region. I have to come to believe only a hard copy of the dictionary can allay my word neurosis.

Yesterday, I left at lunch for the bookstore with the sole intention of picking up said dictionary and forgoing offers of lunch in the cafe. Once at Borders, I headed straight to the reference section, ignoring all the scrumptious temptations on display. Normally I am a Webster girl, but yesterday, I picked up the Oxford American Dictionary and Thesaurus. More than 200,000 definitions and 300,000 synonyms. How could I pass it up?

True, I could have purchased a bigger, badder dictionary, but I have a small desk at home. Having a colossal version wouldn't be practical.

Once back at work, I endured much teasing about my neurosis from coworkers:

"A dictionary! How exciting!"
"You know Michelle there is this thing called the internet. I hear they have a dictionary."

Yeah, well, no snubs to http://www.m-w.com/, but I need the feel of pages in my hand. I feel better. How could I go without for so long?

Artists Date - Poetry Thursday

For Poetry Thursday, the assignment was to take ourselves on an artist date as described by Julia Cameron in The Artist's Way. The date to take yourself someplace and let your artist self take over. On this date, we needed to take a poetry snapshot of where the date happened.

On my date, I took myself to a Barnes and Noble located in an outdoor mall where music plays for the patrons walking outside. While sitting drinking my chai, I had a hard time describing the place as poetry. I began asking myself questions to induce an answer. What do I love about being in this Barnes and Noble? Why do I come here to write?

Here is what I came up with:

Bookstore

Smell of autumn on my fingers is fading
Dragging me into hibernation
Moving me to ignore the world
until the sun can yet wake me again

The sun finds my mind
Illuminating my curiosity with Books
Old wisdom and young idealists
Bound in the pages, calling for a read

Winter is coming
The season is not a place holder
tiding you over til love breaks forth
In the season of birth, Spring

Music energizes my body
Move girl, move
This world is not for the sleepy
Find your rhythm and move

Find the words and the movement
The places calling for your attention
Enjoy them all the more
Reliving the experience in writing

If you haven't read The Artist's Way, I suggest it; a great book to jump start creative expression. I bought the book many years ago as a book on tape with a supplement that contained chapter exercises. I am going to dig the book up again.

Last Night

As I was driving home, I stared at the full moon rising over the eastern sky and contemplated the coming Winter, ballot questions, and football.

Since moving to the Boston area, I realized I have learned more about football than I have ever wanted. Why? Boston is a sports lovers' paradise. This town is drenched in sports tradition. You can't help but learn about hockey, football, basketball, and, my own life love, baseball at a college, high school, and primary school level. Sports is every where.

I was surprised to learn I admire Peyton Manning; one of the few quarterbacks in the NFL who can call his own plays- not something Brady does. I would never know the man's name if the Pats did not have a pre-game and post game in-depth analysis every week. (On Sunday, the Pats lost to the Colts, Manning's team, 27-20.)

The ballot questions for today's election?
Question 1: Should stores that sell food to be eaten elsewhere be allowed to sell wine? (Right now only liquor stores can sell any alcohol which will be consumed elsewhere.)

Question one has sparked much controversy and way too many ad campaigns for and against. What surprises me is neither side has offered up one fact or semi-truth to support their case.

My question, aside from my opinion, remained unanswered from the pundits: What are the socio-economic repercussions from answering yes or no?

Anyhow the moon was my solace and winter inevitable.

Poetry Thursday: Favorite Verses

Poetry Thursday's assignment this week is to put forth favorite verses.
My hero Walt Whitman wrote many I love:

Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine
From the first poem, One's Self I Sing, in Leaves of Grass

One's Self pulled me into Leaves of Grass. I remember traveling in my twenties with no particular purpose other than the journey. Walt calls those travels back for me.

Many songs also take me back in time to journeys of my life. Some physical. Some philosophical.

Four of us traveled to see my friend Aileen graduate from University of Colorado at Boulder. On the way we stopped to see the Grand Canyon and Vegas. I was the night driver. My experience is limited by moonlight in many cases. However, I made up lyrics to I Wanna Be Sedated while traveling along I70. Sang them while everyone else was asleep. (I am an only child. I know how to keep myself entertained.)

I have been listening to Elvis lately; Costello that is. Oliver's Army sticks with me more and more.

My mind goes sleep walking
While I am putting the world to right

For some reason I combine this verse with a Ramones' verse from Do you remember Rock n Roll Radio?

It's the end of the 70s
It's the end of the century

In my head I end up with:

My mind goes sleep walking
While I am putting the world to right
It's the end of the 70s
It's the end of the century

The Run

Wordsmiths Unlimited puts forth a challenge each month to write a story based on a picture. (My challenge is to get the picture to post. I'll fight with Blogger later.) Go check the incredible stories posted this month.

The Run

"No, you run through first."

"But I thought of this place."

"Yeah, means you go first."

"We'll go together."

"Yeah, ok."

Even though we had an agreement and counted to three, I ran first; full out. My legs extended as far they could go, as quickly as they could go. I ran to the end of the chapel and ducked through the doorway. I turned to see Sam midway through the building. His legs, shorter than mine, were moving at a slower pace.

Seeing him behind me, I pushed through the small opening between the double doors leading back out to the open field. I laid down on the broken steps outside. Part of the field was encroaching on the steps, pushing up through the broken stones. From the where I lay between the top step and the next step down, the field stretched before me, then the trees an acre or so beyond, and peaking through the trees was the sun.

The old church was enclosed by natural boundaries. A river was at the left. The field and forest started at the right and merged at front. From the back, where we came was a trail through a wood leading back to our houses.

All the kids came here to play. The fields were overgrown and uncared for like the church. What lay beyond the trees was Indian country. Our folks promised any child a sound lashing who ventured into the forest.

Sam emerged a second later. I expected him to lie next to me, but he didn't. I could feel Sam standing behind me and hear his breathing, labored. I turned to look at him. Sam's face was pale and sweaty.

"Are you ok?"

No answer.

I stood up and moved Sam into a sitting position. Studying his face I realized Sam was afraid. Sam was never afraid and seeing him so, I felt the beginning of fear creep up my spine.

I tried to ask him questions about what he saw, but Sam wouldn't answer. His face grew paler even though his breathing became less shallow. Then I saw it, a small claw sticking out from the back of his head. Sam's thick hair covered much of the claw which could have been the reason I didn't see it at first. In honesty, I was too afraid to do much of survey of Sam. My attention was focused on the chapel. I expected something to come out to explain the fear before my eyes.

I knew now I needed to get Sam home, but doing so meant going back into the chapel. I tried to be logical. I played here a thousand times. All the kids did. The fear had gripped my spine now and no amount of reasoning would shake it.

I grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him up gathering what little courage I could. I didn't tell Sam what we were going to do but I knew he knew anyway. The run was only thirty feet. Should not take us more than a minute.

We held hands fast, took a breath, and ran, right into a flurry of black wings.

Fall Leaves

The fire trees are muted, a week now past.
No longer does the bright yellow drift into ruby tops.

A Nor'easter blew in Saturday.
Gale force wind and rain left a toll.

The current aspect of leaves would make an impressionist proud.

Studying the trees like a painting,
from the outside, huddled in my jacket


Sunday 10/29/2006

Clan of the Cave Bear

Last night at some point my power went off. I woke up during the middle of the night to gather more covers and huddle under them, oblivious to the reason why I was cold. I was not aware something was off until this morning.

I did not realize the power was out until I attempted two light switches. The house was frosty and too dark. I had hot water but no heat. No light from the clocks. I went through the house and lit candles in every room, bring several to congregate in what ever room I needed.

The power outage reminded me how my instincts and nature change when autumn starts to give away to winter. Scientists will tell you man descended from apes. I disagree. My instincts tell my ancestry is from bears.

When a cold wind blows and the sun begins to hide, I begin to wake later and later wanting the dawn to show its face before I think of showing mine. By December, I think only a flicker of warmth will move me grudgingly out of bed and house. Oh yes, my ancestors are bears.
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Speaking of Clan of Cave Bears : I will attempt the meme Cincy sent me.

1. One book that changed your life: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Walt was the first poet whose words captured me. I had never thought about poetry as an art form I'd like until I read his works. Rereading his poems years later, I realized I structure much of my own sentences and thoughts in verse.

2. One book that you've read more than once: This question is a little more difficult. Do I go completely feminine cliche and say Pride and Prejudice- Jane Austen? I am enthralled with Dumas' Count of Monte Cristo. Every time I move or undergo big changes in my life, I read The Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis and A Wrinkle in Time - Madeline L'Engle.

3. One book you'd want on a desert island: Does a notebook with a pack of pens count? If not, Les Miserable - Victor Hugo because I keep meaning to read it and haven't yet or maybe D.H. Lawrence's poetry.

4. One book that made you laugh: The Secret of the Chimney's by Agatha Christy. Christy, in the novel, makes fun of herself, detective, and mysteries in a subtle. The Sweet Potato Queen's Guide to Love had me laughing out loud on a plane.

5. One book that made you cry: Harry Potter: The Order of the Phoenix- J.K. Rowling. Cheesy maybe, but I cried. A Severed Wasp by L'Engle, one of her many adult books, immensely engaging and moving.

6. One book you wish had been written: Any of the short stories I've stopped and started. Ok reality. Any work by L'Engle.

7. One book you wish had never been written: Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. I skipped fifty pages of this book. The woman is repetitive in the extreme. I stopped caring about her characters seventy pages in under the weight of her exhaustive message. Only a friend's encouragement kept me reading through the end. I never would want to lecture my readers to death. Many people love her though.

8. One book you're currently reading: Young Patriots by Charles Cerami. Non-fiction books take forever for me to get through. I've been at this book for two months. Last non-fiction book I read, seven years ago, was Disraeli - Edgar J. Feuchtwanger and I am two thirds away from finishing. Sounds crazy but I love the Disraeli book.

9. One book you've been meaning to read: Too many to choose one. Les Miserable by Hugo listed above.

Don't know why...

This article struck me as hilarious. If you don't want to read it, I'll summarize. To avoid missing a flight, a man called in a bomb threat to delay the plane from taking off.

His lawyer says, "This was a momentary gross lapse in judgment."

Ya think?

Sends chuckles throughout my heart; sick I know.


Does anyone know what type of thermos to buy that will keep liquids, coffee, hot and not make the liquid taste like aluminum?

The Day the Music Place Died

I'm in mourning. CBGB closed its doors last night. (photos courtesy of yahoo.)

Suicidal Squirrels

Yup, it's that time of year again; leaves changing, temperatures dropping, and squirrels committing suicide.

The travesty in the squirrel population is seen everywhere; deflated fur and guts in the middle of the road, on the side of the road, even on the sidewalks. The mass life exodus is a mournful time for those of us witnessing the squished little bodies along the highways.

Why would squirrels be so unhappy as to take their life. Squirrels have had a happy summer, languishing in the sun, stealing from bird feeders, etc.

Yesterday on my way into work, a squirrel ran across five lanes of the interstate traffic without a scratch; one of the unluckiest suicide attempts ever witnessed.

I would say the demise in the squirrel population during the fall is one of nature's mysteries, much like the beaching of whales. Say a prayer for the suicidal squirrel whose poor body you pass next time.

Stalking the Stalker

A former co-worker, Denis, recently revealed he had a stalker while at the workplace (my current one). After much questioning, I came to the conclusion the stalker Denis referred to was a girl who liked him.

Denis sent me a recent email asking after his stalker. Below is my response.

Monday 10:00 am - caught site of stalker in hallway. Plan was made to stalk the stalker.
Monday 10:01 am - followed stalker. Heard sniffling. Stalker may be missing stalkee.
Monday 10:02 am - stalker sneezed. Stalker has allergies or a cold.
Monday 10:02 am - bored following stalker. Need new plan.

Tuesday 10:00 am - decided to take up smoking. Bought pack of Virginia Slims in attempt to fit in with smoking crowd and look feminine at the same time.
Tuesday 10:01 am - stalker spotted at smoking spot. Pulled out cigarettes and lit up.
Tuesday 10:01 am - coughed up a lung and had asthma attacked. Sidelined and stalker lost.

Wednesday 9:42 am - new plan in place and new time.
Wednesday 9:43 am - conferred with Carrieann (co-worker). Will place bug in stalker's phone. I will distract stalker and Carrieann will place bug in phone. (We think an ant will work)

Plans for Thursday - dress in black. Look up planting bugs on internet. Play Mission Impossible theme song while working (song on cell phone - so covered.) Report back to stalkee.

Literacy Project

In an every increasing need to be literate, I have embarked on a new campaign; the Starbucks campaign. The company now places quotes, "The way I see it", on the back of their coffee cups as I discovered a couple of weeks ago.

Today my cup has:

I think when we get angry at others, most of the time, we're really angry at ourselves. It is not "us verses them" - we are all connected. Perhaps the anger comes in how much of "us" we see in "them". Whether it is cutting someone off or taking more than one's share, perhaps we are angry at ourselves for doing similar things every day. In any case change will come when we stop pointing the finger and start looking in the mirror. Christina Morton- Starbucks shift supervisor.

Do you think she's referring to customers?

I am excited to learn all the quotes Starbucks uses on their cups of coffee. I am a little worried though. Starbucks is now quoting their own staff on the cups. Do you think they ran out of people to quote?

How many quotes do I need to read before I am well read?

Primary

I went to the polls yesterday to vote in the Mass. primary elections and was disgusted by some of the experience. (To preface, let's just say that I believe voting is the most important action that anyone can undertake if you want to influence how local, state, and national governments are run.)

First off I am listed as an independent. The woman who greeted me at the polls should ask me what ticket I want to vote on Republican or Democrat. She did neither. I asked the woman how I was listed. I am correctly listed.

Once I got to the voting booth, I noticed that the primary ticket had several offices where only one candidate was listed. Unopposed candidates irk me to no end. Why? An unopposed candidate is less likely to be held accountable for his actions. I am from the old school of believing that any elected official works for me because I help pay his salary.

Even though I vote in a small town, the turnout was unbelievably low. I did not have to wait, as I normally do, for a booth. I was the only voter in the booths.

I wonder if our country is reaching a new level of apathy. Hope not.
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A J Folmer storyupdate: She has hired a lawyer and will be fighting her charges in court. I do not know if she plans to sue the police department. If so, I will update you on the outcome.

The Chronology of My Arrest - Post taken down

I had a post here I rec'd by email.

I thought the account interesting and remarkable.

I tried to take out any identifying markers in the story while still giving full credit to the author. But I broke a rule. I did not get permission to post.

I am sorry J. Folmer and I have taken your post down.

For the Love of the Lima Bean

You know the days when you are starving? You can't wait till you ingest something? Anything? And then ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..... goodness.

I just had the best soup ever. Vegetable. On my palette I tasted a delicious sensation that I'd forgotten about; the lima bean.

Oh how I love thee LIMA BEAN. You can make a meal delicious, delectable, and delightful. I beg you to be in any soup that I order; a side on any meal I take.

I love you Lima Bean.

(I don't think the ravenous thought deprivation has subsided yet.)

September 11, 2006

I remember trying to make sense of the unthinkable.

Wang

Over the weekend, I was asked what I want to do. I answered I was weighing my options. Apparently I swallowed the "in" part of the word ( a southern thing? I don't know.).

My friend asked: WANG? What's Wang?
Again, I said: weigh..g.
My friend: WanGG?

At this point I broke out laughing. Wang is weighing.

Time can be Tom with my accent.

I don't know what other vowels I swallow but I laughing hard when they come back at me.

Lunch on Friday

I have learned the value of lunch in general at work--- blog reading.

Over the week I found this entry It's Time to Break Iraq Into Three Countries (it's political, but I love political) followed up by this article from the Washington Post. Interesting viable theories: go read.

Jonesin' for more politics? Go here. Also head here for the politically incorrect. Irreverence is a vice. Here or here for life everyday funny.

I am flying out tomorrow to Atlanta for a wedding reception on Sunday. I am ambivalent about this short trip. Yes, my godson and I will see who is the air-hockey champion in an epic rematch. (No, I do not let him win. He can do so on his own.) I will love seeing my best friend. ..... It's just......

Sigh.... I am beginning to hate going to weddings, no matter how much I love the people involved.

Anyhow was at the salon last night learning about reality TV shows with the hairstylists. They put some cool goo on my hair called High Voltage Shine. I swear walking home cars' lights were reflected back to them.

Have a great Labor Day and next week I'll try and be more inventive in my blogging.

Rashomon Story

Today, a cast of bloggers set out to create a story told from the point of view of set of characters using the pictures above.

Cast of characters:
Man in Bed: Majere (Majere's story was written by me.)
Woman: Crynne, a prostitute. (Crynne's story was written by Rennratt)

Man Pouring tea: Aldoux, a servant. (Aldoux's story was written by Tiff, of No Accent Yet)
Man in the Black Robes : Bishop Janiff (Janiff's story was written by Lady Jane Scarlett)
Man in the Light Purple Robes: Bishop Beddleton (Beddleton's story was written by an author who wishes to remain anonymous)
Man in the Dark Purple Robes: Bishop Dominic y'Nobe (y'Nobe's story was written by Sea Hag, of Monkey Barn)
Man in the in Red Robes: Bishop Valetti, the head Bishop (Valetti's story was written by Kapgar)

These vignettes were weaved together by Hyperionand presented cohesively as a master murder mystery story, The Sins of the Father .

Go read and enjoy.

Tall Ships

Friend-ship

I get up god awful early to walk in the mornings before I go to work. I walk about two miles before I head down to the boardwalk to watch the sun come up over the river.

This morning as I was turning onto the boardwalk I saw the Friendship awaiting me.*

She's huge against our tiny dock. Her masts rising skyward and hull overshadowing the boardwalk.

I stopped to take in her magnificence and contemplate her beauty. I was joined by two joggers; all three of us pausing our MP3 players and staring in silence at the great tall ship outlined by the dawning sky and river.

*I returned at 7 am to take this picture.

Fast Food Advice

In a fit of boredom while tech support was attempting to fix a computer error, I read the back of my Starbucks cup.

The Way I See It #160

Sixty-nine percent of all problems in relationships are unsolvable. They are about differences in personality or needs. They never change. When you choose someone, you will have inherited the problems you will have for the next 50 years. Unfortunately, we pick people who are not as perfect as we are, (I'm perfect? Cool. Good to know.) so relationships work if you have wound up with a perpetual problems you can learn to live with. -- Dr. John Gottman; scientific expert on marriage, relationships, and family.

Is this advice I'd want to employ on a first date? I think not.

Confusion

Awhile ago I did a list for Hyperion on the Top Ten Things I do not Understand. I've done this list before and different, but I forget stuff every now and then.

Anyhow on the way home from Maine this past Sunday I saw another thing I don't understand - the truck limo.

Why?

Pleeeeeeeaaaaaase explain this to me.

Aren't these two things exclusive to the other? Why combine them? If you want to be in a limo, do you want a flat bed truck or vice-versa? Each on their own give completely different statements...

I tried to ask the guy in the limo. We were in heavy traffic, but I couldn't catch up the truck limo slightly rolled down window to ask.

I will be forever mystified unless you can help me.

Saved by the Neon Belt.. sorta

Last night I went to see a movie about Leonard Cohen "I'm Your Man". Normally I hate music biographies as I find them overstated / overpuffed trips into the egomaniac minds of musicians. The movie I saw last night was different.

I'm Your Man was more an artistic and poetic look at Cohen's work and the influences he had on musicians without being self grandizing. I truly enjoyed it.

After the movie, my friend Tim and I went to get a drink the Black Cow, a restaurant with a patio overlooking the Merrimack. As we talked, a guy walked by wearing a belt that doubled as sign with blue neon letters.

I haven't laughed so hard in a long while. The man lit up everyone he came in contact with. People around him were all a-glow in blue. He was truly a man of the old Miami Vice era.
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When I awoke this morning, I felt the hangover of a lifetime. A hangover reminiscent of my twenty-first birthday when my senses awoke one at a time.

First came awareness: I had passed out and was somewhere different than I had been last night. A downey soft bed with super soft airy sheets.

Next came my hearing: Someone was snoring. I still couldn't move.

Then sight: A blue light was on somewhere in the corner of the room reminding me of an alarm clock's glowing face.

Then smell: The smell of fresh morning air mixed in with the scent of night old alcohol that emanates from the pores making my gag reflexes come to life.

Finally motion: Running to hug the porcelain god.

God - I do not miss being twenty-one.

This fictionalized story was brought to you by Michele and Cincy.

Brain Block

In an overwhlming lack of creativity and general blankness, I am having a hard time thinking of anything to post.

Therein lies the problem..

I owe Tiff a story from two weeks ago and have another story to get out by Thursday for that task master Hyperion.

The gray matter is not functioning, not even kicking in.

Help.....

Flooded (part b)

Most of the memories that encircle me have me smiling.

I fell in love for the first time in this town. I have friends for life rooted here. I will always have a place within the circle of friends who have become my surrogate family. Smiles live here.

New memories are being made all the time. Memories I will hold when I want to smile.

Sloane, a wee two year old - Austin's sister, bellowed "Shell" within the half an hour I arrive. Austin soaked me in the bumper boats at Malibu Grand Prix. Iris, a curly topped two year old -Sloane's cousin, ran to me with a smile to say "hello". Vic rocking out with his new band. Maria and I sharing our ritual coffee talk at Borders.

Yesterday's breakfast at le Madeline in Buckhead, I see Ian, an adorable six year old who worships his cousin Austin, completely pouting. Austin is sitting next to him with a sly smile on his face, but with his face turned away from Ian.

I ask Ian what's wrong. Ian whines, "I want to know what is Austin's favorite part of Lego's Star Wars [a video game] and he won't tell me." I turn to Austin. "What did you say when Ian asked you?" Austin turns his sly smile to me. "Lego my Eggo."

Flood

As soon as I step into Hartsfield International airport from the plane, I am on autopilot. I walk to the car rental counter with my carry on and after going through the necessary hoops, drive the rental car to my best friend's house.

At Maria's house, the memories begin to merge into my conscious. The memories drift slowly, gently from the recesses of my mind. They niggle my conscious with awareness.

I am not sure when but at some point, somewhere in the middle of batting practice with my godson, Austin; playing Thomas the Train with his sister; talking to my friends, or drinking coffee in the morning while Austin plays his X-Box, the memories fully take over my senses.

Everywhere I look is a place I've touched before. I am overwhelmed. I am flooded.

Fog

Saturday I watched the fog engulf the boats docked at the mouth of the river; their ghostly outlines barely visible. The boats stood defiant against the gray denseness like beacons; their masts calling out to one another -reassuring.

I have always liked watching fog roll around and through objects with a life all its own demanding eerie attention in its paradox quality that is opaque transparence.

Stories come forth generating in my mind ghosts, pirates and all things that might lurk in such gray shadows using the blindness the fog creates to live and hide.

Condom Man

Rare sightings in the summer. Mainly a winter species. Slightly insane.

Identifiable by complete spandex outfit from head to toe much like a Olympic speed skater, earning the name Condom Man, but this species runs.

Most likely to see species when coldest; early mornings and blizzards.

Identifiable in summer only by time and temperature, usually mid-morning to midday when temperatures approach ninety.

I have a BICEP!

I discovered this miracle of muscle while at the gym doing bicep curls. No, I would never do curls if my trainer wasn't standing over me. AND it has paid off!!!!! (Having a trainer is the best present I've ever bought myself.)


Now I run around showing off and singing, "I have a bicep. I have a bicep. I have bicep."

No you can't touch it. It might deflate.

Boat People

Two weeks ago I went kayaking. I had the best time even when I could not seem to navigate my way around the boats well.

Imagine meters of water and one lone boat in front of you. The current is pulling you to the boat and you have to paddle, hard, around the boat and their fishing lines.

The boat people are cool. They'd say a quick 'hi' as I was paddling desperately to avoid them. I managed three hellos from the boat people I missed by inches.

The boat people come out every Memorial Day and disappear every Labor Day. They line the boardwalk dock area sometimes sleeping out on their decks, if a small boat, on hot summer nights. The boat people are the people you see early in the mornings with coffee in hand. They are the people who nudge past the tourists during local festivals with grocery bags from the quickmart.

The boat people spell summer.

I smile when I think of them.

The Freak Show Carnival

You must, must, go to the great Tiff's site and check out this week's Carnival!

Sometimes Philosophy

Sometimes reality is what you believe
Believing what people perceive, what your heart whispers, or what your conditioning accepts

Sometimes perception doesn't count

Sometimes, given only two alternatives there exists a secret third option
Most ultimatums, even the one your mind creates, never truly exist

Sometimes we when choose our circumstances; we are obligated to find out our reasons why
Sometimes when given an opportunity, it's best just to take it

Projecting out into the future can mean letting go of the present
Sometimes we are given what we need in the right now

Sometimes the learning is the most important lesson
Sometimes distance is just a state a mind

Sometimes catching up to say slow down is as important as catching up to walk with someone
Taking a step back to where you were, can be more objective than taking a step away, sometimes not

Sometimes even if you lose, the risk was worth taking the chance
Sometimes the chance is worth more than the risk and the loss

Even the scariest moments can gain us something
Fear contains a secret that will set you free

Sometimes absolutes are just in our imagination
Always and Never are extremes we should not have to choose

Sometimes the brick wall that you crash into, gives the greatest insight to yourself
If control were everything, then life would be best lived alone

Sometimes impossibilities are the only realities that matter
Sometimes differences offer the best choices

Sometimes ambition can get you where you're going as long as it doesn't take you away from yourself

Sometimes the standards you set for yourself are high enough
Sometimes living is the greatest feat of accomplishment

Sometimes, sometimes is everything
Sometimes, sometimes is the chance that comes along granting the wish you never knew you wanted

Sometimes you expect a moment to mean nothing more than the moment
Sometimes a moment changes who you are

Extreme Yoga

Over the weekend I attended a yoga retreat. This being my first ever yoga retreat and not having done much yoga, I had no idea what to expect.

During the weekend we practiced yoga (ok like duh) and meditation techniques.

What I learned:

1) OM is not an Urban Legend. OM is used to center and focus the mind. Everyone say it with me now.... Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. (Try to sit crossed legged when saying it.)

2) Yoga people get up damned early in the morning. We were doing yoga at five am. Yikes! This is time I get up during the week.

3) Yoga people are dedicated. We yogaed from five am to ten pm with breaks for food. I was exhausted every night. (Most people in class had been doing yoga for a good portion of their lives.)

4) I am far more flexible than I thought.

5) There are a hell of lot of yoga positions. I have been to maybe four yoga classes in my life. This class was not your Bally's/Gold's yoga class.

6) Water is essential and fundamental to yogaing. I almost passed out on the second day because the yoga room was hot. I was the only that had to have a bottle of water constantly with them but at least I did not pass out again.

I enjoyed much of the yoga part of the retreat. The meditation was a little hard for me. My mind does not quiet easily.

Here and There (Poetry Thursday)

I've been around the world
Differences between there and here

The coffee is stronger
The food more flavorful
History a touch deeper

Upon coming home
No Joyous relief so Profound
Has been known as
Sinking, delicately, deliciously
Into my Pillow

Home, a place I have made for myself
A place where
Time, energy, and care
Make it my own

Life may seem a little more Colorful There
Here, A little more diluted
Richer for being there
Feel nothing so deep than the Plushness
Of Here

People there
As Different as here
Masks of Politeness; Gallic Shrugs
Political Demeanors and Friendly smiles
Candid teasing
Connecting the memories between There and Here

Treasuring certain moments
On very rare occasions
Witnessed landmarks the world knows
Yet are precious to me
For I have seen them

These recollections are pulled out: Sacred
Because I am here and not there
Not taking for granted such sights and people
Because not having seen them for a time
Here and there
I cherish Here

RANT: What the hell happened to customer service?

I left my Philips MP3 battery recharger in Atlanta. My battery is drained and I decided to order a new one.

I was completely excited when I came home last night and the Philips package was waiting by the door.

Now I can walk in the mornings to my tunes again. I take my MP3 player to the gym again. I can connect it to the stereo adapter I bought. I miss my MP3s.

How upset was I when I opened the box to find a battery? Very!

I am on hold with Philips now to get an RMA (return) number.

Philips has told me they will charge a restocking fee of $15 because I could not distinguish BATT RECHA as a rechargable battery and not a battery recharger.

While on massive hold, I checked the website again. BATT RECHA product description is BATT
RECHARG (no picture). According to the customer service representative I should have had a clear indication from the description that this product was a battery.

The replacement product choices on the web are:
BATT RECHA
HDPH
USB AC
Carry Case
Install CD

Do any of these items seem to scream I am a recharger for your MP3 other than BATT RECHA?

I thought not.

The customer service lady just asked if I needed anything else. Well, I still need a recharger.

I am back on hold while she attempts to find out which of the items listed above is a battery recharger.

UGH!

Words (Poetry Thursday)

Aptly adept or adeptly apt
Trips off my tongue now
Sweet short alliteration

My first attempt at haiku. I don't think I have it yet; so be kind.

Dysfunctional Days

My dysfunctional day started last night as I watched a brutal baseball game between my two favorite pitchers which caused me to stay up too late last night.

Because I was up too late, I slept too late this morning. I put was putting on eyeshadow this morning when I realized I had not taken a shower yet.

After an extra thirty minutes of getting ready, I took another ten minutes getting out of the house. I drove half way down the street on my way to get coffee, sorely in need of caffine, only to come back to turn off the iron.

I was about to pay for my cup of coffee at my favorite coffee shop when I looked in my wallet and realized I did not have any money. I went to the ATM across the street to get money. Luckily the coffee people knew me and held my coffee.

I made it to work safely but am having trouble doing work that's due tomorrow because of constant interuptions on another matter.

I had to make a Target run at lunch to get clean work out clothes for my training session tonight, but I still forgot my gym bag and need to go home to get shoes.

Do weeks start on Sunday or Monday? I am begining to feel that my dysfunctional day is really a dysfunctional week if much of today is caused by yesterday.

Ever and Now (Poetry Thursday)

I am cheating again, stealing from my poetry page. Ah well, deal...

Ever and Now
If ever there was
If there ever could be
Without me
My ever will never see

Ever not to plan
Ever unfolds in the sands
Ever comes from now
Now to the future, will not bow

Now I will not forget
Now, what will become of it
Now is; in the now
Ever to those behind somehow

Ever is not what I dream
Now in the ever seam
Ever becomes a fantasy
The now is just a part of me

November 04,2000

Overheard

I went to meet my personal trainer over the weekend for the first time. Yes, I got a personal trainer. Not becuase I am trying to be super buff or anything, but because I am having trouble with maintaining my cardio. i.e. I can be on the eliptical machine for thirty minutes or more but I am out of breath climbing stairs. I want to find out what's up with that.

While changing out at the gym, two women were sitting completely naked by the sauna doors, not in the sauna. (Comments on this one are all yours.) One lady was complaining to another lady about her daughter and her grandson.

"Trevor just went downstairs to the basement! He was there when I got home. He didn't ask. I couldn't believe it. I called Debbie and told her that out of all people I expected her to raise her son better than that. She hung up on me. I can't understand why she's so upset. She should just apologize for Trevor and get over it."

So tempting to jump in with, "What did you expect calling your daughter a bad mother?"

On the walk to the square downtown, a girl with hugley dialated eyes was talking to another girl, "That would be really cosmic. You and I should totally get those tattoos together."

Do you think they are going to regret the tattoo they get?

Sun (Poetry Thursday)

In honor of the endless rain ....

Sun calling my name
Shine on me
Light my mind with clarity

Sun holding onto me
Firing up in the embrace
Melting down, I feel whole

Sun bring me out from these hazy shadows
Glare down on the fear that follows me in my image
Vanquished I come out to play

Sun pour in me and I pour to you
We are one
Bright and radiant as all the rest

Warm

7/10/2005

Souvenirs from Maine

I went to Maine over the weekend to see some friends. On my way home a turkey flew three feet in front of my car. After slamming on the brakes and marveling that turkeys know how to fly, I thought I'd stop, gather my composure, and pick some souvenirs. My camera phone is not the best so I'll put in a description for the blurriness.





WTF: over an empty toilet paper roll. (lemon drops)








Anti -Establish Mints. Promise Libertie, Fraternite, and Minty Freshness. (cinnamon mints)









EnlightenMints: Engenders epiphanies and other related phenomenon. (cinnamon mints)










Understand Your Mother instantly without having to meet or talk with her. (peppermint drops)










Dahli - as promised: Banana Lip Balm. Smells like Bananas too.

Cheesy

Now I have time to think
A hundred and twenty miles
Passes each minute

Watching white broken lines
Seeing all the people as we stop and crawl
Feeling like a toddler slowed down by it legs

The unfairness of it all
Police forced into a seventies prison- the camero
He pulls over a mommy mobile

Debating the elasticity of each lane
Wandering where I can fly
What do I think about now

I can be my heros
Carl Sagan imagining the universe
From the after life

I could sing the body electric
Capitalizing on Walt's Fame
If I knew how to sing

Many mores miles
Caffiene levels running in my veins become weak

If I refill I will be bouncing
Either to music or
In search a bathroom

Reching my destination
I shut the catraption off
Preparing to turn around and do it again

Does Love Conquer All

Does Love Conquer All?

In a discussion with a friend, the subject came up. He said no. At the time I agreed with him. Why? Because love seems so rarely to conquer anything much less all. I am wrong though.

I remember love takes all forms; infinite possibilities on every color of love.

Love can conquer all. It frequently does conqueror many. People stay in relationships that are not good because of love.

People are not willing to sacrifice themselves to love. Sometimes relationships breakup because someone will not lose his/her values to keep the relationship going. Good or bad, I don't know. Probably neither.

A thousand ways to act on love or not.

I know if you let it, love can feed you. I find strength in love, being loved and loving.

But should love conquer all? Is looking at love like a conqueror even sane?

Most feelings and actions are individualized. Why not love?

I like to think of love as a most personal decision and feeling -part of the self that spreads outward- something to share.

Will love conqueror all?

Hell if I know.

My lazy ass

I recently signed what I thought was a non-binding exercise contract. I entered into many such agreements over the years.

A friend/neighbor/someone: "You and I should workout togther, the buddy system."
Me: "Absolutely."

Never happens.

The agreement I entered into on Monday was similar. Or so I thought.

Last night, after I managed not to make it to the gym, the devil visited me demanding my soul, a possible future first born, and any blood I have on hand.. yaddah, yaddah, yaddah....

Satan, thinking I was laughing at him, make no mistake - I was, told me if I did not get my ass to the gym, he would strike me dead bloating my corpse but only in the butt and abdomen. CSIs for years would be looking for the "agent" that caused it.

I woke up screaming.

The Man I'd Marry

Evolution of Dance

Cable Guy!

I am waiting for the Cable Guy!

Jim Carey - I wish. Come on -make me laugh dude.

Last weekend's allergy explosion that sent me to the couch all Saturday and most of the day Sunday has prompted me to return to standard cable.

At least now, I'll know what shows people are talking about and I can watch my beloved baseball without paying a fortune.

While I wait for said cable man, I took a trip into the past from a good friend's post. Check it out. (Yes - it's about music. Deal. I'm a music geek: sue me.)

Pollen (Poetry Thursday)

Pressure building, Head pounding,
Sinuses screaming - Congestion

Scratching, Sneezing, Dripping nose
One Nostril passing air

Throaty voice, Elmer Fudd nose
Can you understand me?

Decongestant, Antihistamine, Decongestant
Four boxes of tissue

Allergies

5/17/06

Smiles and Flood

Rain, rain on my face
It hasn't stopped raining for days
My world is a flood
Slowly I become one with the mud

Oh wait, the rain stopped this afternoon and the waters should start receding.

I can see clearly now the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It's gonna be a bright (bright) bright (bright) sunshinin' day

I see mushy pollen and the road closings.

Okay. Okay. The sun is out and believe me I am thankful. I am not sure I could ever live in Seattle.

***********************************************************************************

Today my godson told me he liked arena rock. Huh?

***********************************************************************************

I give my first presentation of my new job tomorrow.

***********************************************************************************

Smiles rock.

Signs

I don't believe in 'signs'. OK. Sometimes I do. Or at least I do for a small space of time.

Lately I have been thinking of moving. I am not sure about it.

Once I the thought began to grow in my mind, I began getting offers to interview in a certain city; Raleigh, NC. The interviews were for jobs I didn't want and did not want to consider. Very IT and very one-sided. Part of the job I have now is working to set up a redundancy office in Raleigh.

Hmmm....

Is that a sign or have I just begun to notice that my skills are desirable in a tech hotspot?

I have begun to notice other places as well, just not with the same consistency as Raleigh.

Honestly I don't want to move back to the South. North Carolina is a little different. The state has mountains and snow. Still the South.

What's left? West Coast or a Rocky Mountain State- preferably not too far north.

Signs are really about desires and what comes about as a result of those desires.

Do I want to move or change the place I am in?

My Head's Gonna Explode

Being in bed sick for two days is the most boring pastime ever.

My nose is sore. My throat is sore. My head is pounding. If I didn't take decongestants with antihistamines, I wouldn't breathe through the one nostril I am breathing through and my head would explode from the pressure.

Going back to bed.

This is enough for me to wanna upgrade my cable.


P.S. Bill the Cat made a cameo in last Sunday's Opus.

Atlanta

I fly here a few times a year. My best friend Maria and her husband, Lewis, are here. My godson, A, is here and all my friends are here or come here. I wished I liked Atlanta more.

I am in Atlanta to celebrate A's first holy communion and his sister, S's second birthday. The occasion brings everyone. Maria is the center in which occasions like this draw various friends and family.

Vic, who lives here and is A's godfather, and I, with Eddie, A's cousin, sat in the back pews for the Eucharist mass. We tried unsuccessfully to divert A's attention and lure him to sit back here with us. We made jokes and laughed pretty much all the way through the service, which explains why we are in the back pews. Sitting up front would have gotten us in trouble with A's grandparents.

On S's birthday celebration, more people came in; like Paula who I haven't seen in ages and have loads of fun with. We, the friends and family, celebrated by chasing kids around, opening presents, and making plans to see one another over the summer.

Yesterday morning I got up early to spend time with A before he went to school. This a ritual I have with him on the day I leave. He becomes upset when he doesn't see me the day I leave even if I have said goodbye the night before.

My godchild has a way of crystallizing a moment; I realize I am missing his and his sister's growing up.

A: When are you leaving?
Me: Today. Your mom is dropping me at the train station at noon.
A: Oh.
Me: You know I'll be back for your birthday.
A stares at me with solemn eyes and nods.
Me: It's not the same; is it?
A: No, it's not the same.

Maria comes in to the living room and bundles A up. He gives me a hug and leaves for school. I wait until Lewis heads to work and I am babysitting S for a few minutes, who is sleeping. Then I cry.

I already miss my friends terribly. I miss the kids. I miss my second family. I miss the memories that linger here. Even the bad ones. Yet I make the decision every time to go back to
Boston.

Mirages

I seem to go through some amazing high points followed by some amazing insecure moments. I wonder why.

I think that for everything we do in life there is an intrinisc lesson. After gaining some distance over the past six months from my a year of absolute- I don't generally believe in absolutes- ups and downs, my lesson is becoming apparent to me; beware of mirages.

What is real?

If in a given situation, my feelings are strong; I know they are real. How about the person with whom I am interacting? Not so fast. I've been here before and my feelings have led me to believe what I have is mutual.

You'd think that I'd learn not to trust people. What I've learned is that I don't want to abandon or guard my trust in people regardless of the mirage affect. Even though I have seen some interesting oases shimmering in the distance lately, I know I am learning how to identify the real thing.

The thought occurred to me while I was in the shower that I have not set any defined goals in my life lately. Even with my writing. Even my poetry is on a slippery slope lately. I have stuff in the works, but haven't been motivated to push for the finish. (Sorry mom- I am working on it.)

I thought about a "to do" list. I suck at those. They get made and I never look at them again. But what the hell: write a goal, have a goal. (I am not numbering these because then there are no rules on the order.)

!) start writing fiction again. one story. any story.
@) finish my poetry and start sending it off. thank you again Stephanie for the links.
#) I want to be able to get to a place where I can express my emotions as well as Michele or my humor as well as Neil.
$) moving my butt out the door to the great outdoors; long drives are not an excuse to come home and collapse.
%) leave the people behind who have made the choice to stay there and concentrate on the people who are in my present. Thank you Danny for making me laugh when I cry over split milk.
^) I know my dreams and I need to start following them.

I think that is enough for now.

Sam Cooke is now a British White Guy

Driving during what I call the music hour- takes me an hour to get home from work and I play the radio or CDs continuously- I heard what I thought was a Sam Cooke song, one I hadn't heard before, on the radio.

I love Sam Cooke. His voice instantly relaxes me. Doesn't matter if traffic is horrendous. Doesn't matter if life is not crystal clear. I am lifted by Sam Cooke's voice.

Imagine my surprise when the radio announcer said the song played was actually by James Hunter. Turns out some upstart from Britain is singing modernized R&B with a sweet clarity and his voice, what a voice! If I had stopped believing in God, I'd believe in Him again.

James Hunter has the gift. Take a listen and click here. Dare ya!!! Sam Cooke couldn't complain .

6 am

Morning 5:30 am:

catch up on blog reading while coffee is brewing.

Morning 6:12 am:

coffee is done and I am still at my computer.

Morning 6:13 am

can't move...... willing coffee to pour itself and come to me..........

Morning 6:14 am:

ARRRRRGGGGGGGG ..... I don't have this much patience. Going to get coffee.

Opus

Catching up on my reading...

Women can be Disgusting

The secret is out and I can't cover for my gender any longer. Go into any women's bathroom or locker room and the truth will be revealed.

Disgusting behavior comes when a woman, the culprit, believes in assured anonymity. I'll try to spare you the most unmentionable details.

Examples from my gym:

• A large wad of hair was seen on the floor of the ladies' locker room. (Dead hair tends to gross me out and make me gag.) Through the gagging reflex, my conscious thought was that some chick had cleaned out her hair brush dumping the remains for everyone to get sick over. Thank you very much. As I headed out to the weight room, I passed a trash can that also contained another lovely wad of the same color hair. Ugh. This poor woman was loosing her hair and must have been freaking out to leave behind such evidence on the floor of the locker room and on the top of the trash bin, right?
  
  
• During the winter, the ickiest place on earth is the woman's bathroom at the gym. On any given day, toilet paper and a snow mud slush combine together on the bathroom floor making using the bathroom without staying on your tip toes impossible.

Public Bathroom examples in general:

• Splatters of urine left on the toilet seat by the squatters
  
  
• Paper towels / toilet paper strewn across the floor
  
  
• One woman, who muttered an apology as I passed her to enter the one stall bathroom, left such a nasty surprise she herself refuse to flush it. Thank you for leaving me that wonderful task.

I wonder if I am the only woman to clean the public facilities that I use because of the above behavior.

Fellow blogger Mopey Southern Chick wrote about bathroom humor today and for a moment I thought she stole my blog idea. While I know there are voices in my head, I am pretty sure she's not one of them. But that's another story for another day...

Life since Monday

I've had a revelation:

I really, really need people in my day to day life. Working from home has not been great for me. Put me in a cubicle environment again and I'm talking my neighbors to death.

Even if the drive sucks and the gas prices are going to send me to the poor house, I am having fun working along side people again. Hearing the hum of hallway conversations is making me smile.

Even yesterday, bored to tears because I had no computer access, I enjoyed the workplace. I'm so weird.

Still trying to figure out my schedule and finding time to do stuff. Maybe soon will write a real post....

Life may not continue swimmingly but I think this slice is looking up.

New Job

Starting Monday, I will no longer be working from home. I have a new job. One that requires a hell of a commute, but is steering me back into my chosen field.

I am nervous and excited and a little scared. More excited as I am extricating myself from hermithood.

I keep thinking I will miss some of the home life however. Being able to take a walk outside at any time of the day mainly while the sun is still out, for example. I know as the months wind up to summer this will not be a worry; however, the thought crosses my mind.

Or not being able to wear my fuzzy slippers all day, another example. Yet how often do I wear them all day? Maybe too many days.

Meeting new people and finding new adventures as I travel a hundred and twenty miles (did I just really verbalize that? Oh thank God. I only wrote it. It still isn't real. Hope the traffic isn't bad.) are going to be what I look forward to everyday.

I get to be more organized as I fit in waking up earlier, walking, and blogging every morning. Maybe, I'll blog at night. Maybe I'll exercise at night too. Hmmmm. I have a poetry class starting at night soon. I'll have to change the schedule around on those days....

Scheduling will take some more thought.

I am still smiling though.

Yeah!

Patriots' Day

To make up a snow day, a few years ago, my grad accounting class met Patriots Day afternoon. We had a our midterm coming up and needed the extra session. I had lived in Boston for four months and the dawning of spring seemed like a blessing. This was the first warm week since winter. The windows were open and every few minutes a cheer would break through our professor's lecture. Marathoners were running past.

Patriots' Day was the first holiday that I spent in Boston and the first new holiday to me since I came into this world. I had never celebrated Patriot's Day in Georgia.

Today is a fun day. The Sox are playing. The Marathon is running. No matter what the calendar or the weather says, this day is the definite welcoming of Spring.

I'm Off... Will Return Patriots Day

Happy Bunny Hopping Holiday!

Happy Pesach/Passover!

Happy Easter!

A Midday Walk

The sun is pouring radiation down on the river. House windows are gleaming reflecting activity that surrounds them.

My eyes squint to see the contractors putting up a new house on the water front. Impulsively I wave. One waves back surprised at the hello from a stranger.

A bicyclist passes me with a "nice day" and I smile a yes.

The mommy and me group power walk their strollers. Grandkids are playing on the green.

A guy at the vitamin store is complaining about tax season as I make my purchase that will counter balance some of the junk I place in my mouth.

Boys are discussing boats unloading for the start of season at the sandwich shop.

One business guy is contemplating life along the crowded boardwalk.

The river is glistening.

Midday joggers are standing waiting for coffee at a local shop while people with laptops are huddled at the tables.

A few steps more and I arrive at my door.

Another One Bites the Dust

Dammit. I have heard from the Nigerians again.

Lost another relative.

The letters I are disturbing. They state a relative has died and Mr. Nealy, the Nigerian representative contacting me, wants to take a portion of my hard earned inheritance and give me only ten percent of it!!!!

What's up with that?

Granted ten percent of thirty million dollars is still three million.

I understand Mr. Nealy will be handling all the paper work and incurring expense to transfer the money to me. But am I really expected to give Mr. Nealy my bank account number to gain a percentage of some inheritance from a family I did not know I had?

I know. I know.

Mr. Nealy is trying to do justice by me and I should cut him a break. I will still receive three million dollars from his hard work and my relatives' dying.

I am actually very upset with my dead relatives. Why do they feel need to travel to a country where so many wind up dead? Don't they know that Nigeria kills people? I have talked to others and they are also losing relatives left and right in Nigeria.

Do not let your relatives, especially the ones you don't know about, under any circumstances travel to Nigeria. They will die.

*** I know everyone gets these emails. Last week was excessive having received three such emails which were extremely upsetting due to the many deaths of non-existent people.***

Rock, Paper, Scissors

The game is now a sport in Las Vegas?

Apparently yes. Las Vegas held a Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament this past weekend.

I went on the web to confirm that the tournament was actually played and to my surprise a Rock Paper Scissors search came up with 118,000 links.

Oh. My. God. You are kidding, right?

Several RPS, as it called by regional clubs, sites help RPS members become more strategic at the game.

To me, strategy for RPS is kin to having strategy for a coin toss. (and if there is a coin toss strategy - I don't want to know.)

I have some fond childhood memories of RPS. Maybe that's why I bought this t-shirt two years ago.



Nah, I just liked the play on words.

Tagged - I'm IT

I have been tagged by the irrepressible Cincysundevil. Everyone should play- a- long.

Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.

How does the world see you? : The Long Black Veil - the Chieftains - I am not sure I like this game

Will I have a happy life? : Leaving on a Jet Plane (remake) - Me First and The Gimme Gimmes. - I have no idea what this means.

What do my friends really think of me? : Pump it Up - Elvis Costello - Hold on a second I'm dancing now.

What do people secretly think of me? : Lay it Down - Magnapop - I can only assume this means my neurosis.

How can I be happy?: Head Over Heals - The Go-Gos - Thank God - a happy song - at last.

What should I do with my life? : Monkey Gone to Heaven - The Pixies - and down again. Maybe I need a new song list?

Will I ever have children? : Still Waiting - Sum 41- Now I'm Laughing.

What is some good advice for me? : What I Got - Sublime- Excellent!!!!

How will I be remembered? : Let me Blow your Mind - Eve with Gwen Steffani - I can live with this.

What is my signature dancing song? : Teenage Riot -Sonic Youth- Got a beat and I can dance to it.

What do I think my current theme song is? : Plea from a Cat named Virtue - The Weakerthans- considering the above songs and my past year this could be accurate.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is? : They Can't Take that Away from Me - Billie Holiday - Only child syndrome, maybe?

What song will play at my funeral? : You Send Me - Sam Cooke - Laughing again!!! Love it. I now insist this be played.

What type of men/women do you like? : Hella Good - No Doubt - Yup, Uh huh.

What is my day going to be like? : R.G.S. - Cheap Suits - this song puts a smile on my face.

I open this to everyone, but I'll tag Dahli and Mopeychick. I know they don't usually do Memes, but maybe, just maybe....

The Guest List

The Guest List I thought was a magical thing, a key that would unlock the door to adventures when I was eighteen and worshipped at the alters of guitars and drums.

The music store where I worked allowed me access to the guest list. All the guitar and drum brethren were there and some who worshipped the keyboard and the bass. Better, some of the chosen played and happily would place me on the list.

I, full of excitement each and every time, put out on the wire to all friends: we are going to a club. The gang dressed to the nines, a dead giveaway, and headed for the club where the barrier awaited us.

The bouncer, the one man who never understood that we held the key: we were on the list. The doors should spring open and let us through, shouldn't they?

They never did. Not even when I was a forty year old woman three inches shorter with blue eyes or so my ID told these paragons of bouncerdom.

I would turn away, denied what I thought was mine, heading with friends to some all- ages place.

Something's Nutty in the World of Chocolate

What the ?

Remember when chocolate was chocolate? When Hershey and Snickers stood for candybars that made your teeth rot and would ruin the dinner your mom made? Or when the candybars were just a chocolate fix you had to have?

No more!!

Now you can get a Payday Pro Energy bar!

Try a the new line of Snickers Marathon bars: an Energy bar, an Energy bar for Women, for you Atkins' lovers - a Low Carb Lifestyle bar, or a Performance Protein bar.

Now while chewing each cardboard bite(I actually haven't tried these brands, but from research into other "performance bars" most taste icky.), you can make believe that you are eating that sinful candybar.

(Ok, maybe the point chocolate companies are making is they can make 'health' bars taste good.)

In reality, would I buy a 'health' bar from a candy company? Only if I wanted to pretend that I was eating something healthy.

But I can pretend I am eating healthy with a regular chocolate bar. Milk chocolate has vitamin D, calcium, and iron. Dark chocolate has anti-oxidants. Chocolate with nuts has....

Singing .... Walking in the Rain

'Anyone who lives in the Northeast that does not take advantage of this weather by getting the hell outdoors has to be sick or a vampire. '

That was my thought this morning after completing my walk and rewarding myself with a French Toast bagel. I was walking towards home lost in these thoughts when I ran into an old work friend.

I walked with her to get her morning muffin while catching up.

Rain began. Not a cold rain that has you scurrying but a summer rain. A rain that's nice to walk in.

My friend headed back to her home and I started walking back toward mine.

I love walking in the rain when the weather is warm.

Of course I looked like I drowned when I walked through my door. Still I have my paper, my coffee, and now the sun has come out.

Time to walk again.

A new friend

Took a break from work to walk down by the water. I was sitting on the water's edge contemplating life and sunshine when a little boy sat down beside me. His grandfather was right behind him.

The kid pointed out the ducks and seagulls swimming on the river. He was excited by boats speeding by.

When his grandfather suggested that they continue walking, the little boy grabbed my hand.

I walked with them down to the Coast Guard station that sits on the river where I needed to say goodbye and get back to work.

The Boys of Summer

Around the country Opening Day is this weekend. My favorite teams' pitchers are above in honor of the occassion that kicks off the best season of the year: baseball season!

God it really isn't funny

Dear God,

While you might think some things are funny, they're not.

After flying in to John Wayne airport, being super dehydrated from the plane, and dead tired, I know you challenged Irvinians to hide all ATMs from visitors. You know I needed cash to get my Peanut Butter, Honey, and Banana sandwich from the Shake Shack at Crystal Cove.

Then there was the time you had the lady at Hertz give me a Taurus knowing Fords have the most flawed cup holder design in the world. It took me a half an hour to find the damn thing to put my coffee in.

Yes, it would have been faster driving across McArthur with the coffee cup in my lap on my way to the office. But we all know that is why McDonalds was sued. I don't particularly want to have second degree burns on my legs because I could not find a cup holder.

Your attempts at humor were not limited to my trips out to California either. There was the time I did the Poo Poo dance while hiking up the side of mountain 'cause I drank Soy Milk that morning. Don't think I didn't hear you laughing.

There was the time I fell down the steps while talking about boys with friends. My butt was bruised for a month!

Your humor needs an update God. At least when it comes to me. Can we take me out of the Keystone Cop era? I am tired of doing pratfalls for your amusement.

I have another point of contention to discuss with you, my neurosis. Yes, I thought you made me slightly neurotic to help satisfy your unending need for laughter. But I am damn neurotic.

How did I not know this until now? What else are you hiding from me?

Can we discuss my need to solve all the world's puzzles? I mean the mental ones. If I start receiving jigsaw puzzles as Christmas gifts, I am heading to the other side; the Southern Baptists. I'm not bluffing.

Also why can't I accept some things as they are? Some of it is a mental game and keeps me sharp. i.e. trying to fix blogger's posting from Word that changes all my apostrophes into question marks. You know I am going to attempt to fix it without getting instructions.

Let's keep my neurosis down to a minimum, and I'll shelve the humor discussion for now.

Love,
Michelle

Thanks Voix de Michele for giving me the idea to play with this style.

The Science of Breathing

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Stressed. I breathe faster, shallow.
The world is spinning too fast for me.

Relaxed, I breathe slower, rhythmic.
Wisdom are my actions and motions

Not finding my breath, the world ceases to exist
I work solely on substaining a breath.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathing is voluntary motion and
Apathy is my abhorrence.

The Whirling Dervish

Cincysundevil made a suggestion that a music list of new artists be started.

I agree with him. All of us are head over heals about some new artist. Why not post it somewhere?

I am not sure of the essential hows and wheres, but I do think it is a great idea.

I've made a list of some of the stations I listen to and some of the music blogs out there. There are ton. I don't want to start a music blog per se but just get a feel for a few bands that are others are listening to without wading through the ...

I listen to everything. I mean everything, but my roots lie in punk ska and alternative. SO if you are browsing through the list on the sidebar, you'll have some idea of where these places will take you. ( I say that as I am listening to Coltrane. You never know. )

I'm adding suggested artists to the list as I get them.

On the highway

Once upon a time, in a land of the early twentydoms, four friends, two boys who were alcoholics and two girls who were best friends, set out on a trip across the country. Their goal was Boulder, Colorado in time for the June graduation of one friend's sister. In the two weeks in between, the foursome planned on the Grand Canyon and Vegas, baby.

The only thing standing in friends' way was Alabama, as in getting out of the state of. The friends had left Atlanta six hours before, at four in the afternoon, in the hopes of resting in Memphis, Tennessee before hitting Little Rock for sleep.

Remember the alcoholics? A trend had started that the best friends did not know how to stop and resulted in the never ending quest to get the hell out of Bama. The alcoholics would ask to stop for beer and then ask to stop to go to the bathroom. If the girls tried to refuse either the requests for bathroom or alcohol, the boys would 'go' in left over bottles.

Gross, right? That's what the girls thought. To avoid the disgusting the girls acquiesced to the boys request to go to the bathroom every five minutes not sure what was a bathroom trip and what was a beer run. Most often it was both. Through the night and along the rural stretch of highway, the ritual continued.

Twelve hours after the trip began, Memphis was finally in site. Exhausted the two girls, cause there was no way that the boys would be allowed to drive, pulled the car over at a motel in order to sleep.

Three hours later the foursome was back on the road.

Going to My Happy Place

Cropped from Sunday's paper:

The Interview

If I question this and then question that will I ever have an answer?

Does circling around from a different view point really tell much about a person anyway?

Will I continually drive myself into a padded room from so much analysis?

How much analysis is really needed to answer this question?

Do all the answers ever get to the heart of the human connection?

Watching the News this AM

I noticed that once again my Final Four picks are demolished.

• Duke's upset! UNC's upset! Gonzaga's upset! What is the world coming to? The only one in my four left is BC. I should pray for an upset.
• The only good thing is that I don't actually watch these games. The Final Four is a work habit I picked up. (My sports weakness is baseball.)

Texas has a new law that a person cannot be drunk inside a bar.

• Why?
  
• Does this mean the movie Barfly will never get remade?
• Are we re-entering prohibition?
  

For more relevant news, i.e. more interesting to me, see Voix 's music series or Cincysundevil's I Might As Well Get Ready for Reunion Tours (3/19).

I stole this from Bookfraud: The What classic punk band are you Test

Dead Kennedy's

If you are as crazy about music as I and want an influx of new music, check out these sites that allow you to customize your own personal radio Pandora and Launchcast, and music news is on You Ain't no Picasso - a blog site dedicated to music with audio clips. I am currently checking out My Space's music page for value.

I am looking for good new music. Let me know if you have any sites or bands.

Continuance

I never believed in love at first sight until then.

Maybe that was just chemistry. The world needs illusions especially when the war begins.

Battles rage inside between the heart and the head. Normally the head wins.

Reeling from every over-exposed nerve and overwhelmed by emotion, the brain could not keep up with the thump of the heart.

Absorbing all the information from what was said and not said, I connected the dots to the knowledge I already knew about him, creating new dots to be connected with incoming precious information at later time. This man quickly became an intricate part of my life.

Could life be changed in just one moment?