31 August 2008
drivel about my hair
I washed my hair everyday, and it lasted until today. I finally took it all out cuz the top of my head was getting a little fuzzy and the braids were getting loose cuz my hair grows incredibly fast. The thing is, now my head is way hot.
I hadn't realized how much of a difference that style makes.
style. yeah.
30 August 2008
currently reading: fiction
currently reading
on journaling, online acquaintances who have become offline friends, & lasting relationships
Until a month ago, the only writings involving "my guy" were extremely positive and generally vague in detail. One only needs to have taken a gander at my journal over the years to know that. Often I would be bragging on him, and appreciating him, and in other ways being loving and supportive, encouraging, and accepting. Those of you who are longtime readers know this.
The online community of which I am a member here has been extremely thoughtful. I've very rarely (meaning once or perhaps twice) received a negative comment, in large part because I'm generally a mindful, positive person and am respectful of others. The friends who have rallied around me have often times started as acquaintances here online and then spilled over into lasting, trusting, and strong relationships offline.
The bloggers who I've linked to in the left are folks who are authentic and honest. Many of them have become professional writers thru blogging. Some have even been able to make their livelihoods solely from blogging and lead full lives that often include similar personal struggles with which I can identify. In fact, it is because people share their own experiences in a supportive environment that I have been able to process, grow, and venture forth in my own life.
Generally, I've been protective of others and only share information that is mine to share. Sometimes I will use names, such as "for Mari", "for Adria", "for Kathy", or "for Courtney". The information then used in the entry is general enough so that there are no identifying markers other than a first name that is commonly used throughout the general population.
In all but one instance was I very complimentary. In the one case I was not, most folks didn't even realize that the clarification was for that person who was so harmful; folks just thought that I'd written a clarification as I would for a friend. The guilty party read much more intent into it because she knew she fucked up and yet pleaded for discretion after having shown blatant indiscretion over the span of six weeks through her own actions offline. So much so that employees from a local organization who did not have any clue what was going on remarked upon her inappropriate behavior in public spaces such as the parking lot.
About a month ago, I experienced the deepest betrayal a person can have in this lifetime. There were some entries that I posted for less than 24 hours, then taking them offline because I felt that the toxic rage, tremendously painful bewilderment would only serve to make me more bitter and would be more harmful to myself, as generally I am kind to all. I was even then protective of others, respecting their privacy and divulging few if any markers other than a first name.
The man that I'd referred to as "my guy" for years now has recently decided that he would rather I didn't blog about my life (and therefore his by association). For years, when he would read entries in my journal, he always had extremely supportive positive feedback. At no time prior to the last few weeks has he ever voiced or shown any concern about my blogging. It is only since his betrayal of me, the supposed "love of his life"; that he is now concerned about what I have to say, how I say it, where I say it, and who might read it.
I think journaling is more authentic and meaningful than belonging to a score of "social networks" online, chat rooms, and engaging in flirtations that lead to extremely harmful affairs that slid down slippery slopes into cesspools. The people who have become my friends thru journaling, thru shared experiences, thru supportive endeavors are among those that I consider some of my truest friends. I've moved over fifty times in my life and have always made lasting friendships, wisely choosing individuals who have stood by me thru time and experiences.
The only time that I have so wrongly chosen and misread an individual is the man that I trusted and loved with my everything. After five years, he had decided to wreck what was the best thing he has ever or will ever experience. Eventually, he will understand and accept that instead of fighting so hard against himself.
He not only foolishly believes that he fell in love with a woman with whom he first chatted up online, then met offline, in a matter of a few weeks; only to then within two weeks decide that gee, maybe fast friendships with benefits such as that are empty of meaning and not worth the price paid. But instead of realizing that he has only himself to be angry with, he has decided that I am to blame for having blogged about my own grief and bereavement. He believes that I should continue to protect him, even tho he has destroyed any reason why I should do so.
In truth, tho, I have and do continue to protect his identity. But the guilty always feel that everyone knows their particular identity and that shameful knowledge of their own despicable behavior preys upon them. So he protests that I should not share my own feelings and views on all this, because he fears that his own actions reflect poorly on him.
Too bad. So sad. I have shown more moral and ethical accountability than either of the two individuals who are in positions to have integrity and yet do not. Shame that even in my lowest, I am still infinitely better than them. Shame on them.
Good on me.
compassion
gracious gratitude
28 August 2008
sweet lil nut says,
As for myself, now that I've returned to home after having spent ten days in a stressful environment, I am unwinding and my anxiety level is resting at a lovely zero (yea for me!). I'm looking forward to spending some quiet time, reading, writing, relaxing {those 3Rs} and I might even crochet a bit after having not picked up a hook for the entire month. Ya know how there is that adage about doing something painful cuz it feels so good when it stops? That's what I feel like! It truly is good to be home.
Hope you are having a great week's end, whether it's with a new baby, heavy class load, new job, special activities with the county fair, new school year, returning from a trip, about to make a trip, rearranging living space, or what have you; have a good one!
Grins,
Debra
i'm back
it's good to be home.
sigh. so good.
18 August 2008
deep breaths
17 August 2008
on being wholly healthy
This morning has been a productive morning. I've been thinking and I thought that I'd share some of those thoughts with you. This is a portion of what I've written in my hand-written journal.
"I'm understanding that I've abandoned myself in some ways and have not valued my worth enough to be here for me and not to fade into the background and not attract attention cuz putting others ahead of me seemed more important; like that was showing support, encouragement, and acceptance.
"I'm sorry that I have abandoned my self in those ways. I do think that over the past two and a half years that I have reconnected and been more mindful of my own self, my thoughts, my feelings, etc.
"The notion of abandonment is new to me, but I can clearly see how that has been such an important part of me in so many ways on so many levels.
"Isn't that really what it's all about? Reclaiming those abandoned parts to become a healthy whole?"
I've not felt very comfortable with notion of abandonment, because somehow I was thinking that it was like being dropped off in the desert and being alone and never found again. That's why I say that it is new to me. Cuz I've been thinking and redefining my view to understand that abandonment and neglect are not always so obviously drastic. Neglect doesn't mean that you are locked in the shed for months at a time. Neglect can also mean not having your needs met in other ways too. And abandonment can mean so much more besides death by desert.
I see how I've abandoned my self in many ways. I'm not mad at me, I'm a bit sad. But I don't feel pressure to quick! right that wrong. Partly because I understand why I did some of the fracturing that I did. I know why I abandoned my self in certain ways, cuz at the time, that's what I needed to do to get thru. And I do understand that I've been working to become more whole and healthy, and reintegrate those parts that have long been standing alone. I just hadn't thought of it as regreeting, reclaiming, welcoming, loving, caring, supporting, accepting, encouraging, those abandoned parts into my self.
food for thought.
I've been doing ok this morning. Been thinking lots, puzzling stuff out. I'm ok with that. I feel like not to do so when I want to would be even more dangerous. Like shoving those thoughts out of consideration would worsen the situation, creating more chaos than if I pay attention and be considerate to those parts and thoughts when I am thinking of them. Ya know?
16 August 2008
it happened anyway
It happened anyway.
I know that sometimes the mind is so ready to move on, but the heart is still processing things. I'd rather take the time now to be with my heart til it and my mind are on the same page. Otherwise, the mind can invalidate the heart, rushing on and slapping a bandaid on this huge wound. Only later to abscess and spread poison thru-out. So even tho this is painful, I'd rather take the time and attention to scrub out all the gritty abrading so that I have a healthy wound to heal cleanly. Cuz stifling pain can cause so much more suffering.
So, hopefully tomorrow will be a tad more bearable. Please keep me in your thoughts. please.thank.you.
15 August 2008
Peaceful Easy Feeling
In your darkest hour, you can see the stars.
nom.nom.slurp.nom.
So what's yer plans this weekend?
take 523. aaaaaaaaaand action!
For the past six months or so, my counselor has been the best proactive advocate for me; and the ombudsman officer has been very good. If today's actions do indeed result in positive decisions, it will be due to the two of their efforts to see this thru. After today, I should know something more definitive within the next two weeks.
Once I receive the decision from the US Dept of Edu, I will speak in clearer terms; but there is too much at stake right now. Just know that this has been one of the longest, most intricate, difficult affairs in which I've ever been involved. Even more daunting than being sued by the State of Alabama (which I won, yea for me).
Please think of me and wish me well.
14 August 2008
drool, slurp, droooooooool
I also love mushrooms, freshly sauteed. uhmyum.
Mixed together? Perfect. Oh so tasty.
Just what I needed, esp after my recent odd episode of consuming less than two thousand calories in two weeks...and uhm, losing about thirty pounds, in less than three weeks. I've never been one of those twitterpated damsels that shrills, "oh i'm just so nervous, i forgot to eat"; cuz dude, I L.o.v.e food. I love eating. I love eating food. So this recent fluke?
It's soooooooooooo over.
13 August 2008
the dreams, they are a'changin
Think of REM sleep as providing your brain with an arena in which your thoughts (overt and covert) are filed to reflect your perspective of the world and its events. It's important for us to make sense of chaos so that we know our own positions. Well, those are some of my thoughts about the thinking and dreaming process.
I do have lots of very vivid dreams which tend to cause me some anxiety, in my sleep, as I am dreaming them. Once awake and able to focus, I realize that while there wasn't anything objectively in the dream that was likely to trip triggers; subjectively, there obviously were triggers tripping everywhere.
dane.jer.will.robin.son.dane.jer.
Sometimes, I have some pretty damn funny aspects in those dreams that cause the most anxiety for me. In fact, I'm thinking that part of the anxiety is due to my seeming inability to make sense of those oddities my own mind is presenting rather insistently in the from of disturbing dreams. Most dreams I do recall are not violent, tho that would make sense at times. Mostly, puzzling elements linger.
For example, last week, I dreamed that there was a very long line of adults with trays in a cafeteria setting. We were all taking buckets of chicken and placing them in the center of our trays, in a marked circle's outline. Then we moved along and filled the rest of our tray with mashed potatoes and green beans. The chicken buckets were yellow and there was cursive script that proclaimed that this bucket held "Kentucky Fried Chicken LIGHT!"
It was quite amusing on many levels when I awoke. But dude, imagine my poor dreaming self trying to make sense of buckets of "Light" fried chicken! And since I've not eaten Kentucky fried chicken in uhm uhhh probably a good twenty years, I can only surmise it was the damn television commercials pushing product.
Light fried chicken. In.deed.
12 August 2008
11 August 2008
speaking of fruit...
They're baaaaaaaaack
We also picked up a few other things, or we tried to. But, shelves were scattered and a few were empty. There were shattered jars and dented cans and crushed boxes in the aisles and my friend and I were dodging those disasters as best we could. It resembled what I can only think of as the mess a mass of unruly spoiled children throwing temper tantrums would leave behind.
Finally we realized the culprits' identities. The college students have returned. Sigh.
09 August 2008
short shorts
One of the reasons I love to write short-shorts is because even as the author, I see all sorts of scenarios and numerous possibilities for where things are going, where they came from, and oh! the applications; it's all just so rich! To me, short-shorts are a way of allowing me as the author to present a nugget to the reader for their consumption and pondering. Hopefully, it will spark some ideas within the reader for consideration. I think short-shorts are incredibly interactive, allowing the reader to continue a dialog with the story, with themselves, with others.
Aesop's fables, various parables and proverbs (including those of the bible), even quotes can all be classified as short-shorts. The most powerful short-short in my opinion is Hemingway's six-word poignant piece:
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
lost in thought
But yesterday, I realized that I was making some big blunders and botching things up crochet-wise; lacking the focus to engage even part of my mind, let alone focusing completely on the task at hand. I'm not hard on myself here. I just know my own needs and right now, I've been needing to puzzle stuff out and that doesn't leave room for me to crochet badly, let alone create beautiful works of art.
So, I'm relieving any sort of pressure and giving myself the permission to "drop" outta those ancient greek games. If I keep crocheting and finish amazing's quilt-ghan within the time frame, great! If I don't, that's ok too.
I'm in a really good place, and it's where I want to be, where I need to be. For now. So, I'm being kind, accepting, supportive, and encouraging to my self. To do that, I need to be wholly present and engaging in another activity that may distract me from being with me, well, it's not doing me justice.
cuz ya know, as walt usta say, it's all about me!
08 August 2008
variegated watercolor
one down! 524 to go...
to paraphrase: all projects begin with the first step. now i must scamper off!
Hymn to Her
~~Hymn to Her~~
Let me inside you
Into your room
Ive heard its lined
With the things you dont show
Lay me beside you
Down on the floor
Ive been your lover
From the womb to the tomb
I dress as your daughter
When the moon becomes round
You be my mother
When everythings gone
And she will always carry on
Something is lost
But something is found
They will keep on speaking her name
Somethings change
Some stay the same
Keep beckoning to me
From behind that closed door
The maid and the mother
And the crone thats grown old
I hear your voice
Coming out of that hole
I listen to you
And I want some more
I listen to you
And I want some more
And she will always carry on
Something is lost
But something is found
They will keep on speaking her name
Some things change
Some stay the same
Let the Games Commence!
First up, the criss-cross quilt-ghan for the Amazing Miss Monica. The colors are light sage {for the black squares and center of the +'s...cuz i don't have enough yarn of the other colors to follow the pattern's original layout. and that is just fine. lil creativity and i think it will be beautiful}; rose {for the yellow squares}; and orchid and the variegated watercolor {for the red and blue squares...it doesn't matter which is which, it's all the same in this pattern}.
I'm off!
{pitter.patter.pitter.patter}
bright eyed {and bushy tailed}
Usually, I have a very hard time getting to sleep, even with my sleepee-time meds. Then, I'm very fuzzy-brained in the morning and it takes awhile for my mind to click into place. I've not willing gotten up that early in the morning since....since...oh.i don't know when.
I'm not feeling jittery and buzzing with hypomania and well into stages of panic. I'm clear-minded for the most part. {though i've been needing to write things down, more often of late, which is fine, i'm ok with that.} I'm not having nearly as much anxiety, and I've been way more mindful than I usually am {which is pretty damn mindful, considering that in the past couple years, i've been more present for myself and aware of stuff in general}. My concentration and focus aren't so hot, but I'm ok with being less than optimal for the time.
I'm not sure how long all this will last. But I'm enjoying it while it lasts. Even if that makes me a wide-eyed Willie.
{blink.blink}
07 August 2008
another short short from ago
The Next Day (circa 98)
“Shhhh,
Anna,” Mom scolded my little sister into being quiet. Anna hid her mouth with her hands, too bad
she could not as easily hider her shrieking laughter, piercing my ears. “Sorry, Linnzee,” she lisped as quietly as
she could. I nodded, feeling my thoughts
rattle and scatter. I hope my smile did
not look like a grimace to her. I wish
they would leave the room, all of them.
In fact, I wish they would leave the hospital, leave me alone. Chances of that happening are very slim
though. I love my family, but sometimes…
“Baby, is
there anything I can do for you? You
want some juice? You cold? Want another blanket? Anna, be quiet,” Gramma raised her voice
sharply and just as sharply the ax that she intended to slice Anna’s sing-song
chatter sliced into my brain and I think I screamed. But I am wrong.
Aunt Doddy
opened the drapes, “Let’s get some light in here. That ought to cheer you up. It’s so dark, someone would think…” Turning into the pillow, I try to avoid the
shafts of dusty beams that prick and pry at my grainy eyelids and poke into my
hot dry eyes. Her bright tinkering
prattled on and on and I never really liked her anyway.
Minnie,
ironically, is the only one I do not mind at the moment. She is quietly rubbing my shoulder,
slowly. She’s just visiting Gramma for a
spell. Never met her before in my
life. But right now, I want only her
with me. They would be so upset
though. Must not offend them.
I hear those
by now familiar sounds of an angel in white, come to rescue me from my loving
family. The door gently swished, soft
crepe scruffles on the tiles. Then,
blessedly cool hands touch my face and I can feel everyone shift away from me,
rearranging their space to center on the nurse.
Anxious to appear concerned but not stifling, Mom asks, “When can she
come home?”
I am hoping there is not an answer.
a chuck and snick to share
On my 70 th birthday, I got a gift certificate from my wife. The certificate paid for a visit to an Indian shaman living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After being persuaded, I drove to the reservation, handed my ticket the shaman, and wondered what I was in for.
The old man slowly, methodically produced a potion, handed it to me, and with a grip on my shoulder, warned, "This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say '1-2-3. When you do that, you will be more manly than you have ever been in your life and you can perform as long as you want." was very encouraged, and as he turned and started to walk away,I asked, "How do I stop the medicine from working?" The shaman responded, "your partner must say '1-2-3-4'. But when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."
I was eager to see if it worked I went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited my wife to join me in the bedroom. When she came in, I took off my clothes and confidently said, "1-2-3!" Immediately, I was the manliest of men.
My wife was excited and began peeling off her clothes, and then she asked, "What was the 1-2-3 for?"
And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition!
ahhh, peeeeeeeeeeeeeace of mind, mmmm
Then my dog chased their cat up the tree and the cat fell off and so shaddow thought (i'm guessing here) that miss kitteh was playing a very fun game, whereupon shaddow lunged at the poor lil dainty housecat. Terrified of the big bad doggie (all 65 lbs of her can seem very big when you're like five pounds), the cat again attempted to climb the tree, again falling off onto shaddow this time. All this happened way fast.
It caused such an uproar that both my landlords and all three of their kids set about running and chasing and such. I again am supposing here, but i think shaddow thought they were playing a herding game with her, as she became very VERY very excited and started zigging and zagging and just having a blast.
I have to go now, and write an apology regarding my child's conduct. sigh.
{home sweet home}
oooooooooh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, yippittee skippittee!
{singing, "oh happee daaaaaaaaaaaay"}
cookie crisps! for dogs! yum!
Well this morning I fed the furrbees a new type of dog-food (cuz the old type has been discontinued). As I was pouring it into their tray, I thought, "well those look sorta familiar" and sure enough, it clicked into place and I thought, "omg, my pups are eating cookie crisps!"
I'm not even tempted to give them a try tho, cuz the dogs might chow down on them, but I doubt that I'd find them yummee. {gag.gag.gag.}
short short story
The Harvest September 98
“Moma
Lee! You home?” Anna called through the screen as she shifted
her apples, partially freeing one hand.
Cradling the burlap sack awkwardly over her shoulder and against her
sunken chest like a slumbering child, she ran her thin calloused fingers over her hair in a smoothing
gesture. Giving the hot metal handle a
hard fast tug, she caught the door with one quick foot while juggling the
precariously balanced fruit.
“Moma Lee,
it’s Anna!” She announced loudly,
shoving corn to the side before dumping her load onto the kitchen counter none
too gently. Apples spilled into the
chipped porcelain sink. Turning toward
the front room, Anna saw her mother-in-law sitting motionless in an old wooden
rocking chair.
“Moma
Lee?” Anna tentatively called, tiptoeing
softly around the antique round table.
Its lace covered surface bare but for an old worn family Bible and a
pair of heavy reading glasses. The
well-read Bible, an heirloom which had been Moma Lee’s maternal grandmother’s.
“Moma Lee,”
she mouthed silently. Anna held her
breath, hoping Moma Lee wasn’t disturbed from her afternoon nap. Then Anna could get to them apples and put up
the corn with minimal interruptions. But
when she saw Moma Lee’s unseeing wide-eyed gaze, Anna gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth and quickly
settled over her galloping heart as she fell back two rapid steps.
“Oh, Moma
Lee,” she whispered, her mind frozen yet racing in chaos. Comprehension had already begun to take root;
it slowly pushed its way to the surface.
She drew closer and carefully knelt, her knees popping loudly like cracked
walnut husks in the still silence.
Anna reached
forward with one arm, her fingers stretched as though she were plucking the
perfect pear from a gnarled limb. She
pulled the old woman forward, raising up slightly. Anna caught the dead weight of her
mother-in-law’s spent body in a practiced motion.
Cradling the woman’s head over her shoulder, Anna wailed, like a new-born infant. Far into the fields, the workers looked toward the white farm-house. They heard the sorrowful keening, “Mommmaaa Leeeeeee!!!”. Their own fate had just turned with the old woman’s passing.
06 August 2008
sing a song
Love of a
Good Woman ~~Fall 99
When the
love a good woman
Brings you
round, you’ll see
I’ll be
there
Waiting to
be found
For the love
of a good woman
Is what you
need to be
Whole and
complete
It’s the
love of a good woman
That’ll give
your strength of heart
Lift you up
and set you right and true
Oh, that
kinda love
You know
Can’t be
gotten for free
When the
love of a good woman
Soothes your
troubled mind
Gives you
peace and sets your soul at ease
And the love
of a good woman
With me,
that’s what you’ll find
Waiting for
you to see
I am She.
dissociation.fractures.splinters.wedges
Grit ~~01 November 94
Grimy
Fingers
Groping invading prying
Clumsily poking prodding
Her flesh
Yet she
thinks of caresses
Soft, warm dresses
Smells of bread baking
And sugar-spun cinnamon buns
Honey-lemoned tea
Light, tinkling laughter
And ice-cubes
And music
Sweet, high, and clear
As the cold
summer’s night in which she spends her Now.
Dirt, Stone,
Glass
Driving biting scraping
Her back
Dank
Darkness clings to her
Filling her
nostrils
Blinding her
frantic senses
Cloaking the
interchangeable rutting Figure
Bearing down on her
Heavy repulsive
And yet she
feels caresses
Loving, light, and sweet
Smells the warm buttered bread and
buns
Tastes the sticky sweetness of the
iced tea
Cold as the
autumn Pavements that await her.
Grunts
Short guttural
Abrade her
ears
Hot fetid Breath
Gusts into
her face
Blasting her
cheek raw
Slick wet Heat
Rises spills onto her
Making her
skin crawl.
Yet, she
clenches her teeth
Setting her
jaw
Steeling
herself
For This.
Such Grit.
a few more of those writings from ago
Growing ~~March/April
95
Standing
firm
Well planted
and rooted
Strong and
nourishing I am
Me, a little
girl with big, big dreams of being someone
With glasses
and a bun
Well, I’m
half way there and coming up strong
And watch
me, watch me
Whirling,
swirling, stomping
A dervish
and good wise woman
So tell me,
tell me, tell
Me, a little
girl, with big round eyes
Hair to my
hips
Grinning
deep and wide
Lifted chin
help high
To the sky
And woman
Oh good wise
woman
Do you not
know me?
~~
“beauty” ~~22
January 95
she was not
pretty
with eyes of
coal, cornflowers, or sea storms
nor were her
lips
like luscious
ripe strawberries
her cheeks
were not
high and
regal
her chin,
not
small and
pointed
nor was her
skin of
peaches and
cream, alabaster, ivory, or olive
she wore no
dresses of
silk or sheer camisoles
her frame
was not
one of
willow or petite fragility
her hair
held no flames
was not
mistaken for raven wings, or
flowing in
rippling cascades
over her
shoulders to an enviable length
she was not
pretty
rather,
beautiful was she.
~~
sexuality,
sensuality, and fear ~~22
January 95
it is a
thing to hold in high regard
as it is
elusive
a healthy
respect, if you will,
for a
slippery subject of conversation
a thing to
speak of
or avoid
dwell upon
or ignore
a subject
which is capable of bringing such pain,
unbearable
in its intensity
and is
viewed as somewhat
threatening.
create.tiv.it.tee; yup, that's me!
But, I thought that since I have this handy-dandy flash drive and I also have lots of writings from the past in paper form only; that I oughta electronically archive some of the stuff that I like that I've written. There are short stories, some story notes, some poems, some songs; ya know, my words and thoughts from years gone by. In some ways, I can see my development from who I was then to who I am now; and for the most part, I'm proud of that.
There are, however, those writings that still blow me away and evoke so many powerful feelings; as tho called forth from the pit of my stomach and leaving me astounded that damn, I wrote that. Some of it is better than twenty years old, some about ten. But I've few writings recently of that sort; mostly when I write now, and in the recent past, it is here in my journal, thoughts and reflections and not short stories and poetry and the like. I'm just doing what feels right at various times, and right now, poems would mystify me; I wouldn't know where to begin. Now, I write in sentences and paragraphs and that prose feels right. At least, it is right for now.
So here are some select poems that I just typed into a word document {shudder} from papers that are dated, yellowed, printed in dot matrix. I'd be interested in what you have to say, if you'd care to share. Some of the formatting is very odd, as lines are spaced differently. Perhaps aol journals does not support word doc, or vice versa; or it could be I have not a clue {note: i just messed around a bit, and i think it will read better cuz i got the annoying spaces out. i hope}. At any rate, here's a sampling for ya:
ME
~~November 87
“I want to
be somebody!”
He cries,
never satisfied with his life.
“I want to
be the best!”
He shouts,
in frustration, not realizing
No one is
the best.
“I want to
be me.”
He states,
too blind to see
He already
is.
~~
Merrily, merrily, and nothing more
Humming empty notes, she putzes and places,
Rearranges just so.
In her diamond jewels, stockinged legs,
Pumps and pillbox to match
She places her final touch to the arrangement.
Lip-sticked
Penciled and perfumed
A blank smile upon her frosted lips.
With one gloved index she checks the oak banister
Nodding in vague satisfaction.
She presents
a smooth, dry, pale powdered cheek
For His
impeccable peck and purses her own lips,
Kissing cool
air.
She tucks a
hand through his arm
Hugging His
side into her breasts,
Squeezing
him briefly
But long
enough for Them to see
What a
Perfect Presentation she can be.
~~
{untitled}
~~03 March 95
I wanted to
grasp you head firmly in my hands,
Spread my
fingers wide
Feeling the
hard curve of skull and
Silky
shortness of salted pepper
I wanted to
straddle your thighs
Rock close
and tight
So I could
feel your warmth
Through
denim and night
I wanted
your arms ‘round me
Real
solidness to anchor
My Self and
thoughts
Within our
Time and Being
I wanted
warm breath to mingle,
Sighs to be
heard,
Touches to
be felt,
And tongues
to taste.
Now
I want
Again.
{untitled}
~~03 March 95
My tingles
tangle
Thoughts
mingle
And still
you are here.
My speech
slows
Tears flow
And still
you are here.
My heart
skips
Breath comes
quick
And still
you are here.
My voice
raises
Toneless and
droning
You do not
cover your ears
Even as I
furtively cover mine.
I wonder at
you
You smile
Easy and
patient.
short term gratification is not worth sacrificing the long term treasure
Well lots of checks for bills bounce. So she ends up paying overdraft charges on her account, she ends up paying bounced check fees to the companies for her bills, and pays for her bills too. So that cheap food ended up costing her way more than she bargained, cuz what she was focused on was her immediate gratification. She ended up sacrificing the long term treasure, or at the very least dug the hole deeper, making her journey that much harder and longer.
She did not deserve that sorta break today.
Using that same sort of way of thinking, we can see how it is applicable in so many ways to our own lives. For instance, something fairly common is gorging on food, then hating ourselves for making it worse for us to be healthy. A major set back that we perpetuated on ourselves time and again can lead us to be incredibly hard on ourselves. I'm not saying we should give ourselves permission to splurge unhealthily without being accountable for our actions {omission or commission}. But I do feel that the approach of brow beating and castigating ourselves is counter-productive and just as {if not more} harmful as the behavior for which we are chiding ourselves.
There is nothing saying that we must be the same as we were and that we have no choice and must go on committing harmful acts {to ourselves and/or others}. We can help ourselves so that we don't dig ourselves deeper and further from our desired goals. Sometimes in helping ourselves, we need to ask others for help, support, encouragement, and understanding. Cuz we rarely can do all the work ourselves.
Ya know, getting by with a little help from your friends is sometimes the only way you can get by.
special delivery from asshole central
so that means that when i am splattered, i am usually caught off guard and my brain stutters for a moment while my mouth may spew forth protestations. granted this happens seldom, but boy when it happens, it seems like it's extra noteworthy. as a consequence, i think that my sensitivity comes across as drama; and the more i try to hold back, the more damage it seems to do. this is such that when it comes out, it all comes out in an explosive seemingly disproportionate geyser that becomes a destructive torrent; sweeping all in its path off their feet, startling them into flight. and then i think, wow, that was...was...like a...special delivery from asshole central. blink.blink {gasp} was that me?
we wear short shorts
so i washed them this morning, and put them on, and left the house. now you might ask why debra are you wearing this pair of shorts and i would answer, it's damn hot in august in mississippi (hence shorts) and these are the only pair of shorts i have. but you didn't ask, so let's move on, shall we?
within half an hour of my wearing The Shorts, i was doubly glad that i was wearing a long t-shirt. cuz the waistband had become a hipband. and then, The Shorts began their slow strip tease from my body. i was mindful of this, esp as i was hurrying along with my arms full and unable to spare a hand to hoist them into place.
so, i sat down with a needle and thread this afternoon. i tucked and stitched and tugged and restitched and tried them on, and they fit way better. except now, while my waistband is a bit more fitting, The Shorts legs are even more flared so that they seem ever shorter than before.
actually they look cute, it's just, i'm sorta struck by it all. so how much did i take them in? well, the waistband is now four inches smaller, and still a bit loose (which is fine, really, at least they are not shifting down my hips, in a lewd parody of thug-wear).
4" wow grins and spins
i may need to just buy a new pair. next month, when i have some funds to do so. til then, The Shorts will do.
05 August 2008
settling in for the evening
and envelopes! business sized! with peel-away grip-seal! for me!
and bestest of all! a flash drive! with an uberkewl case! for me!
i've never had a flash drive and i'm so excited; so that's what i'll be doing tonight, drinking earl grey while copying files to the flash drive. ahhhhhhhh, so sweet. sigh.
busy update
Then I went to a few other places before I stopped by to see a close friend who loves my haircut and kept saying at random times throughout our visit that it was too cute and suited me. I know that, but it makes me feel good when someone gives me sincere compliments.
Then I stopped by to see a friend who gave me some very unexpected news. He did measurements on me cuz it's been awhile since he last saw me, and he's a fitness instructor and/or personal-trainer (i can't remember his exact title). He noticed that I kept tugging up my waist band; these are shorts I bought two weeks ago (first shorts i've boughten in years and years). So he asked lots of questions to make sure I'm taking care of me and not being unhealthy/harmful to myself.
See, I've never been a self-mutilator, cutting on myself, or whatnot. I've never allowed any addictions to take control. I do love food, and am overweight, but I don't gorge and I don't binge and purge,etc. I'm very mindful of taking care of me cuz I respect myself and love me. If I feel like I might even been on the edge of danger, I correct. I do lots of self-monitoring cuz if I don't, my mania gets the best of me. Let alone any other harmful behaviors or health issues. So I'm ok, not in danger of being in danger.
I said all that so that you don't think, danger.will. robin.son.danger. Cuz I'm fine with fluids, meds, sleep, exercise, etc. k?
Last time I was to the gp, I weighed about *215*. Now, I weigh less than 195. I don't intend to keep up that rapid weight loss. I don't intend to gain any of it back tho. He said that for my size, body frame, height, and all, that a minimum ideal weight for me at this time would be about 150.
Now, I gotta go sew a few darts into my brand new shorts. And no, I can't take them back. I accidentally bleached them. See youse later.
author's note: {*215* the picture in the left "about me" bar shows me at the spring equinox '08, about eighteen weeks ago; i was 215 then. i stayed right around that weight til about a week ago, when i went to the gp regarding an unrelated matter}
brush yer teef
I have toothbrushes and toothpaste stashed everywhere so that I can use them whenever and wherever I get the urge to have that very clean, very fresh feeling. Ya know, in my mouth (not that other fresh feeling with women running across fields of daisies and mothers advising their daughters about douches and other feminine products. shudder). I just wished that other people had the urge to have clean teeth, fresher breathe, etc. more often. {shudder.shudder}
ooooooooooo, kentcha smell thet smell?
I decided to wash my sheets and some other clothes this morning and I must have been very fascinated with something in the washer cuz I think I dumped half a bottle of bleach in there. I love bleach, but not that much. I may need to run an extra rinse or something. we'll see.
So, now the fumes are very pervasive and even with the back half off the place closed off somewhat; the bleach fumes are permeating every molecule of air that I breathe. Good thing that I'll be gone for most of the day and the fumes will have time to dissipate a bit. Cuz dudes, that smell? Ought to be saturating this entry! Can't you smell that smell?
04 August 2008
dancing trees
i wanted to show you two pix that i like. i love trees, and figures in trees really speak to me. they are graceful and beautiful, even with their scars and flaws. they are strong, survive storms, even when they are tossed to and fro. they are flexible without being insubstantial. sometimes, i am like them. here they are:
losing it all
i know i will.
but i feel so utterly defeated.
the shit just heaps higher and higher.
my landlords, who are the best i've ever had, are thinking about tearing down my trailer since it is almost forty years old and requires so much work. see, i had told them in the spring of the year that i would only be living here til next fall. cuz that's what i thought. i thought that his love was meaningful and sincere and that when he said that he wanted to marry me and all that next fall, i trusted him. in august 2009 he is to return to mississippi and we were to buy a house next fall.
so ok, that's not gonna happen for so many different reasons. and so the plan that my home here would only be til next fall is null and void. no longer exists. and now, my home might not be mine either for much longer. understand this is not mean on my landlords' parts. they really thought that the trailer would be destroyed next fall, after serving as my home for this next year. now, it makes no sense to repair things, do major work, continue to pour money into it when it is not gonna just get me thru the next year.
i was ok with it yesterday. but this afternoon, i realized that i can't do this. i'm not strong enough to cope with all this. i'm not gonna do anything foolish like hurt or eliminate myself, or anyone else. it's just...i can't even have the security of my home. i can't even put this horrid thing behind me cuz it affects my everything.
i can't do this.
parts is parts is parts
When I have cramps, I want to remove my uterus. I'd put it back in, a few days later. But just for the time, I'd like to set it up on the bookshelf.
If I have a very bad headache, I want to remove my skull to give my brain room to expand and relax. Cuz it's cramped in my head. Just not enough space for all it contains.
Today, I'd like to remove my stomach, cuz it's clenched tight. Or maybe my nerves, cuz they are buzzing. Or drain my blood and replace it with fresh blood that is not boiling.
Or wait, can I just remove that portion of mind that is me and air it out? I'd put all my pieces and parts back together again, eventually. I just don't want to be me right now.
not mine, but it's an intimate visitor
i've been having a rough morning. getting rougher with the passing hours. and i've been doing all i can. but it is weighing heavier, and the effort is too much.
intellectually i KNOW that this is not forever, that i will and am getting thru this. but that knowledge is not informing my feelings, which are just so devastating and getting worse all morning. i hate this. i hate to be talking about it. i hate dealing with this.
arizen
{yawn} sleepee me {blink, blink}
Sleeping solidly is something that has not happened so I don't know when. I usually wake up several times thru the night, even with my night time sleepee meds. So this sleep this past week? Very restful.
I did have a couple days in the beginning of this colossal fuck up when I woke in mid-panic attack. But these last five days, I've woken at peace and centered, without being disoriented or fuzzy-brained. I've been very pleasantly surprised.
I'm clear-headed and able to begin accomplishing things. In fact there were several days in which I was raring to go before any of the businesses were open. That hasn't happened for...years.
On that note, I'm gonna toddle of to bed. Sleep sweet, my fine friends.
03 August 2008
ahem, mememememe...
In comments to this entry, please describe ME in one word.... Just one single word. Then paste this in your journal and see how many strange and interesting things your friends say about you. Ya might just be surprised!
Wanna play? Here's how: 1. Leave one word in my comment section that you think describes me. 2. Copy and paste most of this entry into your journal. 3. Have fun!!
The Happy Yellow House: Geo
This quilt-ghan is designated for one of my dear loving loyal readers, so I can't say to whom this will go at this time. Talk amongst yourselves {grin}. I will share when the quilt-ghan is sent out and received by the surprised friend who has been helping me thru all this so very much, I really appreciate you.
The Happy Yellow House: Woven Quilt-Ghan
This quilt is for Friend Adria (and her stellar husband), who has made numerous appearances here in my journal. The introduction of the Booty-Bug was due to her youngest child, my littlest friend who is getting bigger by the day. Adria doesn't have access to the net, so she doesn't read my journal, so it's way ok to share my plans here {wink}.
Happy Yellow House: Criss Cross Quilt-Ghan
This quilt-ghan (shhhhhhhhhhh, our secret, k? wink) is for the Amazing Miss Monica. I can say that here, cuz she doesn't read my journal (we eMail lots, and she knows about my journal, she just would rather have personal eMail; and frankly, I don't blame her). Her favorite colors are light green and pink and any pastel combination. So I bought those yarns cuz this is just perfect for her.
dancing queen
i've even caught myself dancing, and that my friends, is excellent.
i used to dance all the time. i may be a klutz, but i've got rhythm and can dance in such captivating ways. so it's lovely that i've begun to let the music make me move.
g'n'nite, sweeterpeas!!
02 August 2008
Ya Gotta Be
Listen as your day unfolds
Challenge what the future holds
Try and keep your head up to the sky
Lovers, they may cause you tears
Go ahead release your fears
Stand up and be counted
Don't be ashamed to cry
You gotta be
You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold
You gotta be wiser, you gotta be hard
You gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger
You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm
You gotta stay together
another one bites the dust, hey
I just spoke with Shitt on the phone and let him know that all worked out just fine since he had called to check about the key situation, and I felt that I owed him a courtesy call, cuz dude, it's not nice to leave someone hanging when they think you are in trouble like that. I'm like that, tie up loose ends.
I told him not to bother sending me the keys cuz he's leaving the state next week and I doubt he will make it a point to drive my car off somewhere and abandon it. I also told him that I've something to say that is not coming from a place of anger, that it is rational, and that even if he doesn't agree with me, I just want him to understand my wishes. I told him that I don't want his guilt money and that it'd probably make him feel better but I am not his charity case. I said that as far as I was concerned this call was goodbye. He said that he wanted to call me again and I asked why. He said that I (Debra) am still his friend. I told him that friends don't do like he did. I told him that I wouldn't be friends with someone who lied to me for over a year (that I know about) and was that disrespectful to me. I told him that I may be a friend to him, but he is no friend of mine. Then I told him that I wish him no harm and that with his mind on so many things, he needs to be extra careful driving right now, cuz folks who are preoccupied are more accident prone. Then very cordially, we ended the call.
Guys, I am very proud of myself. I stayed very calm and rational. I did not lose control at any time. So yep, I'm alright.
And well on my way to being better and finer all the time.
a tall yarn
6 16oz skeins of soft white
3 16oz skeins of light sage
2 16oz skeins of soft navy
4 7oz skeins of country blue
4 5oz skeins of watercolor (variegated soft greens, purples, blues, and cream)
2 7oz skeins of orchid
2 7oz skeins of country rose
2 7oz skeins of warm brown
2 7oz skeins of buff
2 6oz skeins sandy print (variegated creams and tans)
and the remaining (just over 5.5oz) aspen print (light blues, greens, and tans)
all the yarn listed above will be used in the three quilt-ghans described and pictured in an earlier entry this week. all but three smaller skeins were bought today. i'm pretty much ready for the crocheting marathon. and i know who is getting what. i'm not saying, til i'm done; sir-prize!
i'm really looking forward to working on the quilt-ghans. It'll be a challenge to start and finish all three in sixteen days, but not impossible. And it'll keep me busy. I get to be creative, and I'm good at it and I get to express my appreciation by giving them as gifts. good on me, eh?
doing the 'do
I have to agree, it looks and feels wonderful and is better than I thought. It suits me like a perfect cuppa tea. It won't be hard to grow out from here, if that's what I decide to do; but neither does it look like it is an attempt to grow out and in that in-between stage. It's sorta combination between a shag and a bob. With an interesting angle. The thickness of my hair gives the cut some body and texture, and it lays nicely. yea! for me.
I've already gotten several compliments on it. grin. And that's good to hear.
Well, I needa shower, cuz dude! 105 out there and I was out in that all morning and a good portion of the afternoon. Stankee.
flexing my coping muscles
Now, I do have spares. One spare is with my landlord (an incredibly long story, that I will not repeat here), and they are in Louisiana, attending a funeral, some ten hours from here. On the off chance that they hadn't left yet, I called, no joy.
The other spare is with the Shitt. Since I wasn't thinking, I called him and asked if he still had the spare. He did, but was less than the small sliver of a man I thought he was. So I hung up while he was still undecided with what to do. Given this past month, if I'da waited for his decision, I coulda camped out in the farm store and ate some sweet feed.
Then! I remembered, I have AAA for just such situations as this. So I called them, again using the Co-Op's phone (they were so very nice and accommodating), and explained to the AAA folks that no, I don't have my card accessible, cuz yes it is locked in the trunk, along with my picture ID; but hey, here's my name, my address, my home phone...and by the way let me tell you what the problem is. They wanted to tow me somewhere.
I pointed out that without a key, that is not a good solution, cuz uhm hello? I still won't be able to drive it. Isn't locksmith services covered on my account? Since I have the toppa d'line card, it should be but my list describing the services available to me is locked in the glovebox.
So they spend two hours calling around to find a locksmith that takes their card and was open. Nope, no joy. So I called the Dodge Dealership, which ironically, I could have walked across the tracks and thru the wooded line and been at the place; just a stone's thru away. I explained the problem, gave them the VIN from my car and they made me a key. Within fifteen minutes of the call, a representative was at the Co-Op with two keys for me. He tested them. I followed him over yonder, he removed the snapped off key portion that remained in my glovebox lock. And all this with a smile, kindness, and no charge.
sigh.
So, kiddies, what've we learned here? One, I can deal with stuff the same as I dealt with it a week and a half ago. Two, re-affirmation that Shitt? really is way less of a man than I'd thought. Good for me to know.
My hair, uber-kewl! I'd take a pic and post it, but, no webcam and now that I've bought yarn for the Ancient Greek Games and other luxuries like bleach and laundry detergent, I've three dollars to my name. Life is grand! I have no other needs pressing at the moment that can't be met some other way.
mad skillz? i haz em.
01 August 2008
d'uhm debbie d'uhm
Cuz today? Friday. Rush hour. First of the month. D'uhm Debbie D'uhm.
Everyone and their brother's dog was out there. In this heat. Tempers were running high to be sure. I did as many errands as I could. My method? Pay bills til the money runs out then come home. It works for me.
Cora at the power company was glad to see me cuz I kept saying, take your time, it's ok, there is no rush. She snapped at one of her co-workers, I'm waiting on Debra, so just you hold your horses. I like Cora. And I think, she likes me.
The place where I pay the garbage bill ("solid waste") used to be a bank. So it has these drive thru lanes with the pop out drawers and whoooshed! capsules. The girl there has no idea that she doesn't have to scream thru the glass, that little microphone deal works just fine. So I always feel like I am some old little lady with my hearing aids in flux. It must be the gramma car.
Tammy my insurance agent frowned at me, cuz this was the first time in the six and a half years that we've been doing business that I was not able to pay the six-month premium. She asked me twice to be sure that I was aware that I was paying the monthly amount instead of the usual lump sum. But I wanted to make sure I had enough to put some gas in my car so that I could drive home instead of walking. Cuz dude, this heat? One.hun.dreaded.de.greeses.
I put forty bucks of gas in the car. And my tank reads at less than three-quarters full. eek. sigh. everyone's belt is tightened in every way.
Mr. Thin at the co-op was very happy to see me with one hundred pounds of dog food and frontline and copper sulfate to go. They are all big ticket items and I always make him smile when I pop in. Smiles are not comfortable on Mr. Thin's face, so I like to see the muscles stretch in unused ways.
Copper sulfate is expensive. Fifty pounds? $$95. gasp. But if it prevents those clingy roots from creating tightly woven webs that catch all the water from draining into the septic tank in such a way that my toilet water backs into the tub, well, then I'm all for expensive copper sulfate. It was sorta weird, those clots of roots? Looked like sod patches that people pay good money for to repair their torn up lawns.
I had a very nice visit with my landlord while I was paying the rent. So now? I thought about not going to have my hair cut tomorrow, but it's been months and uhm, that heat? yeah. I thought so.
Ya know, I like to take care of all the bills and errands in one quick run about. It lets me breathe easier cuz I'm never late on anything and usually pay ahead of time. Doing that makes me happy and it makes the folks happy to see me and my money. Plus then I have an accurate idea of what I have left.
I won't be able to pre-pay my propane for this next winter this month. Every August, the gas company runs their pre-pay plans. If you don't sign up in August, you're screwed. But, I can't pull that kinda money from my butt. Well, no kinda money really. Cuz that's just wrong. Really wrong.
Ain'tcha glad to know the intimate details of my life's drudgery? Yeah, me too. Thanks for reading my attempts to organize my thoughts.
So, what's new with you?
apropos
Turns out that like I thought, there were a mess of roots and other lovely networks of fine lines grown across the end of the pipe so even tho the tank wasn't full, the system couldn't drain cuz of the living blockage. So he suggested I use some copper sulfate to kill off those nasty clingy clogging roots. I'll let you other septic tankers know how that works for me.
So in lots of ways it's been a shitty week but now? I'm clog free. And I wanna stay that way.
spinning and sputtering
I think I'm that girl grown up. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Even when I have nothing substantial to say.
time is on my side {yes it is}
There are all sorts of songs' lyrics that have been occurring to me in the past week. I've not mentioned many of them, because I thought it was rather trite to do so. Well, fuck that. Lately, the song that I keep softly singing when I'm not particularly aware of it, has been "time is on my side"; esp the version that was featured in the movie "Fallen". It's a softer version that is sung by various characters, acapella. If you've not heard it, give it a listen. Pretty sure YouTube would have it, or watch the movie, it's a good story line that raises some interesting questions.
invasion of the septic suckers
The septic suckers can't say for sure when they will visit, but they think they might maybe possibly be able to make it in the early afternoon. This would be excellent, esp since my checks should come tomorrow and I have made an appt to get my hair cut tomorrow after my checks come. The mail runs about 3p, so it'll be sorta tight to get there in time. Altho, my hairdresser told me that she will just keep the business open late for me, cuz I'm special. wink. She's gonna give me the full treatment, and pamper me.
When I called her earlier this afternoon, she said that she's been wondering for months now where I've been. She always cuts my hair for a really reduced rate, but even with that, I don't go all that often cuz I don't have money to be splurging on stuff like haircuts. My hair is way too thick and needs thinning to get thru the August heat. I'm not sure if I'm going with a chin length cut, or if I will continue to let it grow. It's just now getting to the length that allows me to put it up. I'd planned to let it grow, and have been doing just that for about six months or so. But now? I'm not quite sure. One thing I can tell you for sure, I won't be caving to the shaving. grin.
My mother called earlier today and she may be able to get here during Sept. She wants me to come out there, but understands that that particular environment would not be relaxing or healing. Particularly since she's find it a bit frazzling herself. I've not seen her since last November, so I'm really looking forward to a nice visit with her. I've got a ton of crocheted hats for donation for her to take with her (for the Children's Hospital in Little Rock). I've made three shawls for her. And a wide variety of smaller items, like dish clothes, hyperballic scrubbies, hotpads, etc. There are still some things to finish up, but I've time. Infact, you could say that time's on my side, yes it is.
A long time friend of 22 yrs, Brenda (who got married in May, you might remember) and I finally were able to chat tonight. She's got lots of stuff going on, esp since the kids are trying to eek out the most they can of what remains of their summer breaks. The kids here go back next week, but in Chattanooga they go back the following week. Both her kids' birthdays are that week, and between back to school supplies and school clothes and all that, there isn't very much left for birthday presents.
I also caught up with a few other friends today. In the last three days, I've spent much more time on the phone than I have in the last three years. Everyone's been calling to check on me and make sure I'm ok. Which is very reassuring and I do so appreciate all the care and concern. This will not undo me, altho it has knocked me back a few paces.
All my sweetness, I thought, had soured, curdled, and withered but I realize that is just not true. In part, it is that very sweetness that I thought destroyed due to such overpowering events here lately, that I'm still here. My sweetness? It's strong. It sustains me.