With my hands tied behind my back

It's after the party. The ballroom is littered and empty. I am naked. My hands are tied behind my back. There is no music. The band is long gone. Yet, still I dance. I dance with a smile.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Happy Birthday to Me (Two of Two)



Like duh...you can't celebrate life in just ONE DAY!

Day Two of birthday festivities: Painted my toenails. Took an afternoon nap. Given a dozen roses from SLJ and son. Went out with about 10 of my friends. Laughed. Danced. Drank um...just a few Cap'n n' cokes. Received x-rated gift that vibrates and squirms, from my dork friends. Plus a beautiful e-card from my favorite web spinner. And cried about 3 times total (might've been the alcohol.) It was a pretty darn good day.

(Yah, showing off my lesbian glasses here. They do look pretty darn hot don't they!)

I brought SLJ along to all my birthday festivities. So far, he's met my family. He's met my friends. He's been tested and bypassed the Layli' barrier. He's been forced to dance at my favorite gay club (which BTW, SLJ said he didn't dance. As if. These baby blues of mine are very convincing. "The force is strong with Dancer.") And the man is still hanging around. So I'm forced to admit that he must have a mental handicap...either that, or he really, really likes me.
(He said he likes my glasses. He also said he likes me "just the way I am." And he also said I have a cute butt. And he also said he likes Layli'. Yah, I think I'm keeping him. Ladies and gentlemen...I've found the caramel. Happy Birthday Baby!)

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Happy Birthday to Me (One of Two)





Chocolate cake. Pizza. Coffee. Cheerleading w/ aunt Carol. 7 kids and my brother injected w/ sugar running around the house screaming and yelling. Birthday cards that make me pee my pants laughing. Catching the cake on fire. Ah...this is my family celebrating my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Understanding

I just finished reading Gigis http://lotusmartinis.blogspot.com/ "Valentines day at the casino" post. I swear every single time she talks about her and Turk I get all these little butterflies in my tummy. I'm in love with the understanding that belongs to certain couples. I get a little jealous of the inside jokes...the comradery...the equality... or at least I used to.

SLJ: "Hershey bar with almonds sounds good."
TD: "Ya wanna go get one?"
SLJ: "No, I'm okay. I don't need one."
TD - an hour later: "Hershey bar with almonds sounds good."
SLJ: "Do you want me to go get you one?"
TD: "No."
TD: "Yes."
TD: "Um, how far is it to your local Hershey bar supplier?"
SLJ: "5 miles."
TD & SLJ: Snicker, chuckle and laugh about the absurdity of 1) knowing exactly how far it is to your local hershey bar supplier and 2) the absurdity of going out in the cold for a hershey bar that's five miles away.
SLJ: "How far away is your local hershey bar supplier?"
TD: "Eight miles."
TD & SLJ: More snickers and laughs. Total understanding and equality.
TD: "We can go after 'Everyone loves Raymond' is over."
5 miles later SLJ leads the way to the candy corner at the local market and buys TD a Hershey bar with almonds.
TD: "If I was pregnant and wanted a cheeseburger, would you drive to the next town for McDonalds for me?"
SLJ: "Of course I would."
TD: "Yah, that's what I thought." donning a big smile and biting into the chocolate.

One step closer

I took the day off of work yesterday. Needed to get some progress done on our new business venture. My partner and I had a meeting with one of the city planners and one of the business owners nearby. We looked over color coded maps and got solid info for our planning. Timing and location seem to be perfect and that's the main ingredients in a successful business. They gave us confirmations.

We also made a new contact thru my Morelli. A local vendor. We sat down over coffee with him and discussed plans. Another confirmation.

Things are happening. Things are falling into place. Confirmation after confirmation. Are you receptive to confirmations? Because I'm seriously telling you they are out there. When you open your eyes and see the process, it's truly amazing.

I'm very excited. My village is on it's way. We're one step closer. I wish I could convey my excitement... there are just no words. It's happening. My life is coming full circle. Everything I have wanted is happening. I'm in charge. I am not settling and no one is asking me to.

I can't wait for you to share in my village with me. Just can't wait. I want to give it to you. I want to share my visions.

* later addition to this entry: I should retitle it "Good Day"

So not only did I have a great day business wise....

1) I also had my address changed on my liscense and the BMV only took 15 minutes. In and out! It was awesome...AND I'm somewhat pleased w/ the new liscense pic...somewhat. As far as "mug shots" go. I had a good hair day anyways.

2) I went shopping. I actually went after new khakis for work, but instead walked out with a bag of clearance. I got a lavender velvet blazer (originally $72) for $6.77. I knoooowww... like, right on. Also got a kick ass silk skirt for $3.77. Say it with me... Bargain.

3) Got to see my Morelli and his fine self (outside of the office).

4) Went to SLJ's house and cooked him dinner...after he took me for a muddy ride on his ATV. I love speed. I really didn't mind combing the mud out of my hair or wiping it off of my shoes.

SLJ even took me to get a Hershey bar w/ almonds last night around 9:00pm. Considering he had to drive 5 miles to the nearest store...that's pretty awesome of him. (I didn't even get that kind of treatment w/ the STBX, when we lived a block away from the store, when I was pregnant and craving everything and begging for a gawd damn bag of chips ahoy or taco bell soft taco.)

5) I got to see Abby give DiNoso a vase of black roses. I love Abby. She's such a cool little Goth hottie.

My birthday is this coming Saturday... A group of us for dinner at Henrys with an acoustic artist. Then off to a bar/club to shake my booty. Be there or be square! (No worries, I'll have someone snap a few shots to post.) Unfortunetly, it's not going to be my "slash divorce party." (What's taking sooo long?) But I'm an optimist and that will just give me another reason to party later.

* AND...

I also found out through "my source" that one of my fellow employees is in big trouble with the boss. Just so happens to be the fellow employee that was involved in the whole Donkey Kong chaos that ripped me up a little. Thee same fellow employee who pretended to be my friend and then stabbed me in the back. I sorta feel bad that I'm happy she's in big trouble because I'm the type of person who wishes no harm to even my enemies...but not really feeling that bad. She's the one who manifested it. I just get to see it come full circle and know that what goes around always comes around. I so wish I could be a fly on the wall sometimes...

Monday, February 20, 2006

An open book

I don't particuarly pray. I don't get on my knees or fold my hands. I don't bow my head. I don't close my eyes. I don't acknowledge the power of prayer. It reminds me of that childrens prayer book I had as a child with the little precious moments character being revert. It just seems hokey. I just don't do this. BUT, I did this a few weeks ago. I felt the need to acknowledge a higher power. And you have no idea how difficult it is to admit it here. "Ask and you shall receive. Knock and the door will be opened." I knelt by the bed that afternoon, closed my eyes, folded my hands and I asked for something that my heart truly desired. Weird thing is...I received it. And I truly believe in the power of prayer. My mind and my heart has been fulfilled. Just thought you should know that.

On Friday I cooked a dinner for my parents to share. My mom didn't really want to cook and my dad was due home from work in about an hour and would be famished. So I whipped up a little dinner for the two of them. I pulled out my moms fine china and set the table. I lit a candle. I served them. It's really in the little non-difficult things we do. It's the details that get overlooked in life. It's the napkin rings that make up some of lifes special moments. It's the being happy with who we are and what we have and sharing that with the ones we love.

The STBX and I had our taxes done on Friday. No big deal. The weird part was...it wasn't weird. We sat 2 inches from each other, worked together, agreed on everything, looked at each other without eyes of anger and spite and got our taxes done. I actually thought about bringing him a latte from the coffee shop that morning, but decided against it. I'll share my little joys with someone I love and someone that could appreciate it on the same level. I'll do my taxes with him, but I won't bring him joy anymore. That's not in the job description and I'm okay with that.

Here's another secret...I like NASCAR. I knooooow...WTF? But yah, I do. I watched my first race yesterday. All of it. I even got mad at Tony Stewart because he was being less than becoming. There's a whole new world out there when you open your eyes to the possibilities.

I have a great sense of direction. Well, not so much when I've spun around the room a zillion times with my arms straight out...then I'm a little off the mark. The thing about the Mid-West...County roads all look the same. There's a million white farm houses, a million corn fields that all look the same and every yard has DISH and Free Kittens...but somehow, I always know where I am and how to get where I'm going. I may not know how to structure a written goal...but I know what I want and I know how to get there.

There's only one work by Pablo Picasso that I like. And it happens to be my favorite work of art. I enjoy Monet and Van Gogh, but that one work by Picasso is what captivates me. Guernica. I think it's all the chaos and hidden images. It's like the ID spilt out on a plate and you see something different each time.

I think Goth is cool. I only dress Goth-like on certain occasions, but I love all these little teenagers in their black clothes, silver jewelry and dyed hair. I adore it. But I wear pink and turquoise...it works better w/ my undertones.

Give me a plain black or blue paper mate med. pt. any day. Let's just keep it simple and on the page.

I'm allergic to chocolate. I eat it anyways. 70% is best. I also like it w/ almonds.

There are a lot of things I deeply care about. But there are a lot of things I really don't give a flyin fuck about. One of those things being the fact that some people want me to change. I'll tell you now. I won't change into something you want me to be. I won't do something you think I should do. I will only change when I feel the need to. I will only do something I want to. I really don't care what you think I should be or do. I just don't and I don't feel that I should.

My kids say "Yes ma'am." They have since they were little. I do not tolerate the word "no." I am the mother. My children know I deeply love them. There are no questions about being loved in my house. Nor, will there ever be again. I will let you go if you do not know the meaning of love.

I do a Napoleon Dynamite impression. It's usually reserved for my kids at bedtime.

I didn't love him. I adored a lot about him, but I didn't love him. I would have given him my right testicle, but I wouldn't "live" for him. I simply did not love him.

I was not faithful. But I do not regret anything. I learn. I move on. I don't make the same mistakes twice. It doesn't make me a bad person. It just makes me a person who cannot judge others actions.

I think I have a beautiful body. And I enjoy dancing naked. I adore DOVE for their campaign.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Okay, I suck.

"MOM! Chuck's making fun of me cause I'm wearing red! and Kris said I suck."

Okay damnit, I admit it. I had a great Valentines day. So sue me. I think I deserved a make-up day for last years episode. (Yah, that one when the STBX told me he wasn't attracted to me, ripped my heart out of my chest and made me hyperventilate. And then proceeded to buy me a Fenton Vase. "Here's a clue buddy, I hate Fenton. Your mom collects Fenton. Not me Idiot!)
But Hey! That's all in the past and the Fenton vase makes a nice toothbrush holder. Yesterday more than made up for it. In fact, I've almost completely forgotten about last year. STBX who? (Fucker.)

So, I battled with my committment to the boycott. I'm usually not a conformist. But I caved. Weak little me started celebrating on Sunday when I picked up a few Valentines cards at the store. One for mom and dad of course. And even one for the kids to give the STBX cause I'm nice like that.

Then Monday, my friend Jen got flowers and a balloon at work so I celebrated with a few jumps and giggles and her giddy self.

Which brings me to the dreaded Tuesday. I chose to wear red and pink to work. (Uck! I know. I must've ate some shrooms the night before or something.) I tried to make myself some coffee but it ended up all over the floor. And to my surprise, I stepped in my office at work and there waited a Triple Latte with a little Valentine note from Jen. Already my day was looking bright and wired. I checked my email throughout the day and I had about 5 Valentines sent to me. I felt so loved. Around 10am the receptionist calls me and tells me I need to come up to see her. I got slammed with several patients just then and couldn't make it out of my office. In the meantime about 3 of the nurses called my extention dying to know who the flowers were from.

"What the frell? I got flowers. At work? Huh?" So I finally made it up to check out my flowers around noon. A lovely bouquet of white lilies, red carnations and red roses in a beautiful red frosted vase with a super soft teddy bear attached to it, was waiting for me. I hate to admit this, cause it makes me all sissified...but my eyes watered a bit. I've NEVER received flowers at work. I've only gotten flowers once on Valentines day ever. (Sure, I got a gawd damned Fenton vase once too. Fucker.)

So you're on the edge of your seats to know who the flowers were from aren't you?
They were from Chuck... KIDDING! That boy wore brown all day.

Actually, my bouquet was from SLJ. I've only filled in a select few about SLJ so far. I haven't said much because I'm almost positive he's too good to be true. I thought that if I even mentioned him, then he would most likely just end up being a figment of my imagination. But I can assure you, he's not.

I met SLJ on the online dating thing. We had a date last week. We most definitely hit it off (I've been very good "ma." This one's different.) I think I may have found the other caramel in the box. I hate to say it. I really do. But I think I've found it. I haven't smushed my finger in it yet to see, but I'm pretty sure it's caramel. I'll savor it a bit longer yet.

So anyways, SLJ sent me my very first bouquet of Valentines flowers to work. (Cross that one off the wish list.) But not only did SLJ send me flowers, he also took me to dinner and a movie last night. Like I said STBX who? UPS man who? Fireman who?

Now you guys don't be getting any ideas...You are still committed to your promises of dancing. Tipping Cows. Rendevous in San Diego. I'm not letting you guys off that easy ya know.

And to top the day off... I received a raise at work. Right on. It was a good day. I needed it.

Monday, February 13, 2006

One magical thing about winter

They glide out of the box at top speed with a vengence. Buzzers, sirens and bright lights. People scream obsenities to the guys in stripes. There really is an art in tripping and slashing. A fight breaks out and the crowd stands at attention. Broken sticks. Blood on the ice. Four year old little girls screaming "Fight" at the top of their lungs. There's just something about hockey that I adore!
My friend and I took my kids to see their first hockey game (Go Komets). We were just a tad bit late getting to our seats, but the instant the boys glanced at the action on the ice, they were hooked. I saw it in their eyes. "Whoa, SA-WEET!" I felt like the coolest mom, until a fight broke out on the ice and I lifted my youngest son up so he could be witness. I had a slight giggle over that parenting choice. "Here baby, watch the cool guys in uniform slash and knock out each others teeth. Now BOO at the ref who made a bogus call. Oh did you hear that? The girl behind us just screamed 'That SUCKS!'"
Man, I'm such a good mom. I started feeling better when I heard the little girl, a couple seats over, chant "Fight" at the top of her lungs. Then I knew I was among like minded people.
Next on the agenda... a womens boxing match. Oh, the thrill I get when I watch two women punch each other and spit blood!
Don't taboo the freak within. You know it's in you too. Let it out, it's just begging for some good blood on the ice. (This is what we Mid-West people live for when we're not tipping cows. Ha.)

Saturday, February 11, 2006

a lucid dream






I haven't drawn or painted anything for a long time. I used to really enjoy it, but now all I see is a blank canvas and nothing I seem to put there ever seems to feel right.
These pics are of a piece I did last year titled "Upon Reflection of a Lucid Dream." Colored pencils on newsprint...a whim. Nothing special. I did it last February...the pencils just seemed to move in the right spots that day. It's supposed to be of a woman (me) standing naked in front of a mirror and she sees what's going through her head but she just can't seem to grasp it all. Lucidity.
I found this drawing the other day and reflected on it a bit thought I'd share my lucid dream with you. Upon reflection I see that indeed, I have emerged. Whole. New. One. It feels good.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

A whole one

It's okay, I've emerged, detached.It's all okay.What you say.What I say.That's all fine.

She speaks things like I'm two.I know that she doesn't hold a clue.She's never worn these shoes.She's never walked the mile.Her inspiration is over.She did her part.She can't let go.But she will.In time.I've emerged, detached.I will disagree.And that's just fine.Her heart is in the right place.I know she cares.

He doesn't actually listen to me.I just realized that.He says yes and shakes his head, but he doesn't absorb.And that's okay.It was a perfect moment exactly when I needed one.I realized that he most likely can't handle.He's not it.Just another drink, but not the one I ordered.And that's all fine.I'll hold out.I've emerged, detached.

He kisses my neck.Nothing feels better than that.He doesn't judge.I can say it all.What I say.What he says.It's all fine.I realize it's not our time.Or maybe it has been.He helped me walk out.I'd like to think I've helped him too.We're doing our parts.I will disagree.He will leave me and not her.Over and over again.It's all okay.It's exactly how it's supposed to be.He smiles when I say it might be the last time.He will hold my heart forever But indeed it may be the last time.I've emerged, detached.

She drives me insane.Her constant chatter.Her constant judgement.My eyes roll back in my head.Not another day.But it's okay.I love her completely.What I say.What she says.It's okay.I've emerged, detached.

I told him to have a good day.Where did that come from?I didn't plan it.It's just what I said.It's okay.I woke up one day.I will not hate.I will not give.I am in control.I do not sink.I do not expect.He is over.I left.emerged and detached.And it's all okay.

I have never met them. Him, her, him, her, her and him. But I do know them.Kindred spirits.True half selves.Sprinkles all over.Can't hold them all in one place now.One, a la Bono.Cut from the same cloth.I know it's okay to love them.And I do.Truly love them.What I say.What they say.Unspoken, but written.It's all perfect.Too far but so close.Kinda brings it all together.As we emerge all detached but together.Whole.

She listens quietly.She absorbs.She doesn't judge.She counts her blessings.She is beautiful.I make her laugh.We're learning from each other.What I say.What she says.It's all okay.We've emerged, detached.But together.Our time is now.And it's all okay.

I've emerged.I'm detached.I know what I know.I trust it.I thrive on it.I will look back one day acknowledge it at yet another level.Even a higher state of satisfactionI just know that it's all okay.Exactly what I need.Exactly who I am.It's all fine.I've emerged.I'm detached.I'm in love.And I'm okay.

Mardi Gras, Good friends, Good laughs

Reflection of Mardi Gras and good friends.
About 4 or 5 years ago I had a Mardi Gras party. I'm the notorious party planner. I love decorating, preparing, inventing, minute details all for the sake of a group of people laughing and having fun together. I haven't planned a good party for quite some time now. I'm way overdue. Last one was Halloween 2004 when I made Andi dress up all Goth like and come see my belly dancer agianst her will. But she's an awesome friend and indeed made an appearance, wig, make-up and all.

Anyways, back to the Mardi Gras party...I held this party for my co-workers at the time. I decorated my house in shiny purple and green. Bought tons of beads for everyone to wear (w/out having to show the lady lumps of course.) I bought feathered face masks for everyone. Stocked my kitchen w/ tons of beer, Captain, Vodka, Amaretto and Jack. We played Pictionary, which is always quite interesting when the crowd is toasted. All of my co-workers came too. It was a great office party, even if none of us remember much about it.

The life of the party was my friend Colleen. I miss that woman like crazy! Colleen and I were very different, but had a great friendship. She played a huge part in how I am so open-minded and nothing much surprises me now. Colleen was one of my first lesbian friends. Our relationship was strictly platonic but I adored that woman more than she'll ever know. I mentioned being "messed up in the head" when I was 24/25. Colleen helped me through a lot of hard times back then. She never judged me and always, always made me laugh. No matter what, she could always make me have a good belly laugh.

At this Mardi Gras office party, Colleen indeed made the crowd laugh. She was toasted before she even got to the party. The STBX was a dear and went to pick her up from the local legion so she wouldn't be driving. I wasn't there, but I guess when he arrived at the legion to get her, she did some sort of happy scream when she saw him, hugged him tight and dragged him around the bar to introduce him to everyone. He hardly knew her, but he suffered through it w/ a smile and that meant the world to me. The STBX was never one to go out of his way for any of my friends, Colleen was the one and only exception and that thrilled me. Maybe it was only because she pulled off a mullet better than him or they could trade wardrobes...no matter, it just meant the world to me.

So Colleen finally arrives to the party half lit. Does her rounds, makes everyone laugh a few times. Then she comes out of my bathroom with my sons 101 Dalmations robe on...I swear she looked like an idiot. Everyone lost it. Belly laughs for the whole crowd.

A few months later, Colleen was let go from her job and I didn't see her much after that. I've lost track of her. I think of her often. I wish she could've helped me through this last year. Lord knows I could've used her belly laughs. But I carry her in my heart always. Bottoms up to you Colleen, wherever your life has taken you. Happy Mardi Gras, baby! You're the best! I hope we meet again somewhere on this road of life and have a few more good belly laughs!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

How to get where you're going w/out turning left

My left turn signal doesn't work. About a year ago it was intermittent. It would only work sometimes, mostly when I re-adjusted the steering column. Then I had my water pump replaced and viola' my turn signal worked again. It worked for an entire 15 months straight. Now, it doesn't work again. So I have this problem where I can't turn left because someone is always right on my bumper and I'm afraid they won't see my brake lights flashing frantically warning them. I'm afraid they won't hear me hang my head out the window and scream "LEFT." I'm afraid they won't see my arm fly out the window and make the shape of an "el" with my thumb and forefinger. So I do everything in my power not to turn left. It's very difficult going left when you can only go right. (The right turn signal works just fine.)
I needed to turn left the other night, off of a very busy road. I couldn't. I missed my turn and instead turned right down the next road. Then I had to turn around in someones drive. So then to get back where I wanted to go, I had to turn left again. No can do...so I went straight down a back road which wound around to where I needed to go. Perfect. Except for the fact that a 2 minute trip took me 10 minutes due to the "How to get where you're going without turning left 101" crash course. Oh...crash probably isn't a good choice in words there.
My last car, the one that should have been totalled when that jerk hit me and ran...that cars turn signal didn't work either (that's not what caused the accident however.) When I called Pontiac to inquire about a recall, they said that the recall hadn't been issued yet, it wasn't due out for another couple of months. I could take it and have it fixed at my expense and then when they issued the recall I may or may not be reimbursed for it. To which my comment was "maybe I'll wait on the recall issue. Hopefully I won't be in a bad accident and die because of a faulty turn signal between now and then" and hung up. That was right before the hit and run which bent my frame. When they decided that it wasn't to be "totalled" I got it fixed and traded it in on the Jeep. And later found out the Jeeps turn signal didn't work.
On the Jeep so far, I've replaced the water pump. Replaced the front end tie rods (that were hanging on by sheer luck and the grace of gawd.) Bought a new set of tires (and have had one already replaced due to the 3 inch spike they found in it.) Now my transmission is sticking in 2nd...takes me forever to get up to speed, while I say a quick prayer that my transmission won't drop out right then and there. (I had a transmission flush which didn't help the problem at all.) And now...I can't turn left. It's really causing some serious anxiety. Why don't I take it and have it fixed you ask? Because that takes money that I don't have (probably the money I spent on my casino trip. Ug. Guilt.) And I will also not have a car for a number of days while its being fixed. I don't have an extra car and I live 45 minutes from where I work. No buses. No taxi's. Not riding my bike in the snow.
I'd really like to just go trade it in on something small and cheap like a Kia or something. But I can't do any type of loan rearranging while the divorce is pending.
So my options are to either find and date a mechanic or trade my Jeep in on a horse. I'm voting on the horse. It probably smells better and smiles when I give it apples. D'oh.
I cursed last night when this punk flew through a red light. "Damnit, why couldn't I have been sitting in the middle of the road right then. Geesh. I have the worst timing."
I'm thinking of taking a trip down to "the hood." I always leave my keys in my car...hint hint. Note to self: Get CD's out of vehicle.
And that state trooper was making fun of the sage I had in my windshield and smiled kindly when I said something about "bad energy." Shows what he knows. That sage kept me from getting a ticket that day. So La de da.
Honestly, right now I just don't have the energy to deal with this. I'm tired. I really just want something to be easy peasy. I'm exhausted from making desicions.
Yah, a horse is probably my best bet. Then everyone can say "Hey look, there goes that crazy Carol Chen riding her horse to work" as I stop at the latte kiosk at the car wash just off the highway.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Blissful Birthdays

I've scoured the depths of my brain and have recovered a few very distinct birthdays from my past. I remember my Eleventh birthday. My family was in the process of moving from Michigan to Indiana. I was in the fifth grade. I had no friends in Indiana yet. I had one very close friend named Christie Majewski in Michigan. Her and her mother decided to throw me a suprise birthday party. I got to stay with them for a day or two in Michigan during this moving process. They made me a birthday cake (which the their dog took a nice chunk out of.) They invited over a few of my other close friends and suprise! It was a party. One of the best birthdays I ever had. We dressed like rock stars and sang at the top of our lungs to that one song "Heaven is a place on earth." I had the best time. It meant alot to me.
My Thirteenth birthday. My brother was in critical condition at the hospital. I think my mom made a chocolate cake for me a few days later. My brother survived and is alive and well now. But it was very stressful and very scary. I never wanted to be an only child. That's the point in my life where I actually started loving my older brother.
Skip ahead a few years...
My 21st birthday. I'm actually suprised I remember it. Lots and lots of alcohol. I went out with my brother, the STBX and the FIL. They got me so very drunk. The last thing I remember really is the FIL handing me a "snake bite" and saying "You can't be a member of the family until you do one of these." I succumbed to peer pressure easily then. I didn't waste a second looking into his eyes, licking that salt off and slamming that shot. That was right after the sour apple pucker shot courtesy of the bartender. Can someone please remind me why I wanted so bad to be part of his family? Of course no family members were around the next day as I shampooed vomit out of my hair and threw away my pillow. Bastards.
My 25th birthday. This one was a really weird one. I was a little messed up in the head then (Yah, I know like I'm not now...) I was thrilled to find out that one of my brothers friends had the same birthday. So we decided to spend it together, a bunch of us (mostly men) ended up at the strip club. Two different clubs in fact. I didn't mind. I'm a very open-minded person, it didn't phase me much. I shared my cigar with the stripper who gave the STBX a lap dance. I was pretty messed up in the head that night. I ended up in the womens restroom having a breakdown and my brother followed me in and talked me through it. We won't go into the whys and hows of the breakdown. I was pretty messed up in the head then. I might blog about that some other day when I'm feeling really brave. Too many ramifications still.
Last year...
My 28th birthday. Okay so I was a little messed up in the head then too, but that was all over the STBX and doesn't matter much now. Anyways, I remember a quiet dinner w/ Ken and Andi and our favoritest restaurant The Cork. I say quiet because I had laryngitis that night. I thought my throat and my chest were going to explode, but that didn't stop Ken and Andi from making me laugh. I remember that I talked Andi into wearing her black hooker shirt. The one with the key hole right on her cleavage. She was hot. Meanwhile I wore my cable knit turtleneck sweater. Gawd, how awful of me. Hee hee. After we left The Cork, the STBX and I met up w/ my brother at a local dive. I sat on a bar stool literally dying from my throat and chest pain. But damnit, it was my birthday and I wanted to feel special. I remember running into an old friend from highschool and how she filled me in on her recent divorce. I remember her saying that she didn't recommend single motherhood. Hmmm. Single motherhood versus blowing your brains out because some arogant asshole wants you to look like a playboy bunny. It took a few months, but I chose single motherhood. Probably a wise choice no matter what my old highschool friend said.

So there you have it...the birthdays I remember:
1. Singing along to "Heaven is a place on Earth" celebrating the last time I would see my best friends.
2. Seeing my brother w/ tubes and ventilators in any hole and crevice they could find to put them in.
3. Wanting so bad to be a "part of the family" that I suffered through washing vomit out of my hair.
4. Having a breakdown in the womens bathroom at a strip club.
5. Having laryngitis and choosing between single motherhood or self inflicted gun shot wound.

Who's freakin depressed now? When I was younger...my great grandmother fell and broke her hip on one of my birthdays and on another occasion my aunts husband left her.
Lord, maybe I should be boycotting my birthday instead of Valentines day...
No worries, this year it's going to be different because Stephanies coming to my party!!!
But seriously, I think I'm doing something right for once, my head is pretty well screwed on straight, I feel good, so hopefully the cycle has been broken.Chocolate cake sounds good. I want candles too damnit.

For Chuck

This one is for Chuck because I hit every gawd damned red light on my way to work this morning and because he's missed.
A fucking Valentine.
I read this last night and thought of you Chuck, so I had to post it.
Please forgive me.
The Warmth
In my mouth
That rush
Through my veins
Making my heart race
My pulse quicken
My head-
Just a bit dizzy.
My legs-
Just a bit numb.
My tongue
Yearns for more
More of you
Right now.
NOW.
I can't wait anymore.
This is torture.
Seriously.
I'm in hell
Waiting for you.
I just want to shout
To this GIANT crowd of people
"How hard is it to make a latte, fuckers?"
I love you coffee.

For you Chuck! Much love in this dreaded month of a made up fucking holiday.
You can stab me in the liver w/ a toothpick later for violating the boycott. Winka Winka.

Monday, February 06, 2006

messy random waves

If you need water, I'll be your river. - Cyndi Lauper

Here's a tip: If you've consumed a half bottle of wine, do not mess w/ that hang nail on your finger. It will bleed, and bleed and bleed. Not pretty. Might want to wait till your blood has thickened up again.

I'm a people observer. I love to watch people and try to soak up all their unspoken thoughts and assign them feelings based on their actions. It's a gift really. Oh frell, what do I know? I'm just blabbering some stupid shit here.

I went out to dinner with the parents on Friday. We like to frequent this local chinese buffet. Mmmm. Love the chinese food. There's this little chinese guy, Carl, that runs the joint. He's probably around my age somewhere. He's a nice guy. Friendly. He loves my parents. He loves it even more when I'm with my parents. He oogled me Friday. He looked me up and down. Not kidding. My dad even saw it and started calling me Carol Chen. Not that we're racist or mean to be derogatory...my dad knew how uncomfotable I was and just found it funny that little chinese Carl at the chinese buffet obviously was "checking me out" hard core. I'm sure Carl is a nice man. He's friendly...his eyes are very friendly. He's got a good thing going on with his buffet w/ moo shoo pork. Carl's just not my type and I'm afraid I can't ever go back to the chinese buffet. Maybe I'll move on to the Indian restaurant. I feel fairly un-oogled there. Or the Mexican restaurant, Juan at least has a great smile and he's never oogled me. That I know of. He has said a few things in spanish that I'm not entirely sure about...hmmm. I'm totally kidding here. This is my alter ego talking, just ignore her. I'm really not a ho in the international community of restaurants. Well mostly I'm kidding, I really don't think I can go back to the chinese buffet. I prefer my egg rolls w/ a side of lo mein, no lo-oogle.

I was waiting in the car outside the local Wal-Mart the other day. I try to stay away from the local Wal-Mart as much as possible. It always seems that I feel the need to look down every isle for people I might not want to see before stepping foot in the isle. It's a small town...did I mention I'm trying to get out? Not that I'm running from anything. I don't have any regrets and I've never done much of anything stupid that would make me look bad. It's just the fact that this is the Mid-West and there are a lot of closed minded people who like to know every little detail about your private life. If they want to know that...they can just visit my journal site huh.

Man, my alter ego is kicking ass and taking names today...whew...someone get her a drink.

Anyways...there was a point to this...Sitting outside Wal-Mart, I spotted this woman who jumped out of her car and met a man in the middle of the parking lot. She said something cheesy like "Do you come here often" then they smiled deeply, grabbed hands and the guy started swinging hands back and forth. It was adorable. I think I actually said, "Awww" out loud. They were happy and adored each other and that was so nice to see. Of course after entering Wal-Mart, I'll bet money that he went to either the sporting goods or automotive while she picked up her tampons and toilet bowl cleaner. But HEY! Whatever works right.

This morning I saw a note on the kitchen counter. A note from my dad to my mom. Evidentally she had sent him on an errand after his work shift to pick up chocolate chips and some other goodies so she could make cookies...Well, the poor guy couldn't find the chocolate chips but he didn't come home empty handed. He substituted m&m's. Smart man. And not only that...this note on the counter was actually a lovely little poem about how he looked hard for chocolate chips and hoped she'd accept his m&m's instead. It was cute. It was very sweet. There's no possible way she could be disappointed w/ m&m's. That's my dad. He's a truly great man he is. Such a romantic. I'm sure that's where I get my hopeless romantisism.

Let me digress here...I once got a note from the STBX. It was when I was in college. We hardly ever saw each other. He worked second shift. I went to school all day (9a-9p) and worked weekends. I was having a really stressful time juggling two kids, a marriage, a mortgage, a job and a hope for a degree. He must have sensed something wrong because I came home one day to a carnation and a home-made card that said something about how he knows he didn't always show his support and affection but that he truly loved me. I broke down in tears. I really needed that card. I kept that card for years. I referred to it often. I clung to it. I don't even know where it is now. It doesn't matter now. But kudos for him and kudos for me for remembering something nice.

So, Twenty days until my birthday party. Who's coming? I think I finally talked my friends out of going to the stip club. Pla-Leeze...that was so like 25th birthday. I'm a person that has to have a nostalgic T-shirt for a major occasion. I have high hopes that this party will also be my divorce party. So the shirt...on one side..."spank me it's my birthday" and on the other side "I just dropped 150lbs. of ass. His name was Eric." I know...how do I do it? From one random wave of nostalgic bliss to another random wave of cruel intentions. It's all good.

But, no, seriously...who's coming to the party? Oh, okay then. Fine. I understand. No one really wants to come to the Mid-West mid February and celebrate with someone they've never met and who calls herself "Tiny Dancer." It's okay. I get it. Long distance support only. Wussy.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Dire straights

For the life of me I can't remember what I was going to blog about. I arrived home at 2:30 this morning w/ something on my mind, but instead of blogging about it...I went to bed. Now, I'm up...I've had my bowl of cereal...I've traveled to all my favorite blogs...I've checked my (very intriguing) emails. Now...I'm padding back off to bed to nurse my red wine & UPS man hangover. Dating sucks.
Can someone please make me a cup or five of coffee, cause I just can't. Oh and while you're at it...a quick shower would be nice too.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Ladies and Gentlemen...Mr. Walt Whitman

I nearly had a panic attack the other day thinking about my future. My near future that is. You see, I have all these plans. I have timelines. And then something happens and I start to doubt that my plans and timelines will not be met. I panic. But, But... And I try to talk myself down. Trust the process Dancer. You're plan may not be THE plan. But things will work out. Just be in the now. Trust. - Honestly, I'm hanging on by threads here. But if there is one thing about me...I don't give up easily. I will hang.

I have a huge book on American Poetry. Sometimes, right before bed usually, I open the big book and most often than not, there is a poem that is meant for me. Here I give you pieces of last nights poem. (Feel free to absorb it and take it to heart. My gift to you in your own ebb and flow.)

As I Ebb'd with the Ocean of Life

As I wend to the shores I know not,
As I list to the dirge, the voices of men and women wreck'd,
As I inhale the impalpable breezes that set in upon me,
As the ocean so mysterious rolls toward me closer and closer,
I too but signify at the utmost a little wash'd-up drift,
A few sands and dead leaves to gather,
Gather, and merge myself as part of the sands and drift.

Tufts or straw, sands, fragments,
Buoy'd hither from many moods, one contradicting another,
From the storm, the long calm, the darkness, the swell,
Musing, pondering, a breath, a briny tear, a dab of liquid or soil,
Up just as much out of fathomless workings fermented and thrown,
A limp blossom or two, torn, just as much over waves floating, drifted at random,
Just as much for us that sobbing dirge of Nature,
Just as much whence we come that blare of the cloud-trumpets,
We, capricious, brought hither we know not whence, spread out before you
You up there walking or sitting,
Whoever you are, we too lie in drifts at your feet.
- Walt Whitman

Thursday, February 02, 2006

How not to become a stalker: Lesson # UNO

The thing about girls is that they have this thing called EMOTIONS. This thing called EMOTIONS often gets in the way and causes periods of delusion. It's like the whole palm tree in the desert thing. It looks like it's there, but it's not. Where am I going with this? Ah yes.

EMOTIONS. That one bad sentence every girl utters at least one time in her life which make men want to tuck tail and run..."Let's talk about feelings."
Recently, a friend of mine, and I'm not saying who (you nasty slut) hooked up with a guy. (Please forgive me for telling this story but it must be told to save every other dating girl. You are a martyr. You are a slut, but you are a martyr too. Way to take one for the team.) She's kinda new to this whole dating thing just like myself. Let's just say, I'm learning from her mistakes.

Anyways, she finds this guy. They have known each other a whole week. They have actually been around each other a matter of 8 or 9 hours TOTAL. In the matter of that 8 or 9 hours they've talked about their families, their past relationships, their goals etc... They have flirted non-stop. From what I hear, it got pretty hot and heavy. She gave me the details of course, but for her sake I'll spare them here. So she spends some "quality" time with this guy (if you know what I mean) and from what I hear it was well worth it. They watch a movie afterwards, everything is fine. He has plans that evening, so she leaves and they are both on their merry way.
The next day is when her emotions set in. All mixed up. She starts tearing herself apart. She starts thinking about what a "slut" she's become. OMG. She just slept with a guy she barely knows. Now girls, you're all with me now aren't ya. We've all been there. (As everyone shakes their heads yes and giggles.) We've all had that moment of weakness when we let the emotions step in the way. I've heard some stories about how women have told the man that she "loved him" on the third date. We're all thinking of that freaky chic on Wedding Crashers now. "Don't ever leave me cause I'll find you." Girls, admit it, we've all been that freaky girl. I'll admit...when I was dating DK I told him that "I thought I was falling in love with him" and that was after about two months of dating him. (Give me a break it was a rebound.) It didn't take long for the "relationship" to fizzle out after that. Come to find out, I was more "in love" with the six bars of smelly good soap in his shower.
Anyways, back to the story. She freaks. She sends him this "feelings email" with good intentions of course. (Sorry, sweetie but it's funny.) She begins to tell him how she's feeling a little "funky" after their little rendevous. She states how she's not just looking for "a good time." She admits that more than anything she wants a relationship. She does put the clause in there that she doesn't neccasarily mean with him. But none the less she begins to tell him her feelings and what she wants and if he's not open to that then she needs to know now. She wants "passion" and a "deeper level."
And then she hits the send button. The instant she sent it she called me and freaked out. OMG! She knew she had done the freaky girl thing. OMG! How was she ever going to get out of this one? So me and some other good friends try to coach her through it. We tell her we've all been there done that. We make her laugh about it. We tell her to play it off. Say it was just a test. How he handles it will give her a really good glimpse into this guys heart. Will he play along? Will he not even respond to it at all? Will he file for a restraining order? Will he fall off of the face of the earth? This will tell her if he's worthy or not. So she let the emotions slide in there for a little bit. It's okay. The damage can be reversed we promise her.
She ends up doing very well at addressing it with this guy. She plays it off, she laughs about it. Do you want to know what his response was? I fear that from his response he isn't worthy... he is the guy that makes all other guys look bad. Sorry gentlemen, but he laughed and agreed that she was indeed a "freak." In fact thats his new nickname for her. Freak. He laughed about it and said that he "was waiting for her to tell him what kind of ring she wanted." (Okay, that one's funny, I'll give him that.) And then he proceeded to tell her it was okay, that she was "just disillusioned by his cock." Yes. I shit you not, he said that.
See this is why all of us single people need a dating handbook. Dating for dummies. What not to say on a first date. That's why I'm telling this story. We could all learn a valuable lesson from this.
Girls...when those emotions creep up and you feel the need to share them...give it a day or two to process before hitting send. When in doubt send it to your girlfriends first. Show it to your brother. Do whatever you need to do, but PLEASE just don't fall prey.
Guys...be sensitive and please (for your own sake) don't tell her she was disillusioned by your cock. For real. Just be honest. She just yanked out her liver and showed it to you now be respectful and show her yours. It's the least you can do.
And that...guys and gals...is lesson #UNO in my new "How not to become a stalker, dating handbook."

The bad box

Expanding further on the bad box of chocolates. (I may sooo get in trouble for this, but it's not my fault they're bad.) Besides, Kris started it and now I'm on a roll.
1. The Asshole Chocoalte. Something about that chocolate just seemed so good. For the life of me, I can't remember what exactly, but I'm sure there must've been something. It was always kinda bitter a little on the shallow, I mean sour, side. But Hey! Sour's not so bad. It could be worse. So you stick with the sour chocolate. You try to always look past the sour. You try to enjoy it. You try to savor it. Then one day the sour turns to a very distinct flavor of asshole. (Not that I know what asshole tastes like. I can't get past the smell. Not that I sniff it either. Hey! Leave me alone...I'm in the medical profession. I know what asshole smells like okay.) Anyways, sour turns distinctly to asshole. Asshole chocolate thinks that it's the best thing since sliced bread. Asshole chocolate is never wrong. Asshole chocolate makes you feel like, well, shit. Asshole chocolate makes you want to slam your Jeep into a light pole. Asshole chocolate makes you want to burn the garage down. Asshole chocolate is indeed not very good. So you spit it out. Rinse and gurgle a few times and move on.
2. The String Cheese Chocolate. The String Cheese chocolate is an old friend that you run into every now and again. It's a very pretty chocolate. You could easily see yourself savoring this chocolate for a long time. String Cheese Chocolate likes to shop. In fact it likes to shop more than the average chocolate of the opposite sex. It has more clothes in it's closet than anyone you know. It also has six bars of smell good soap in it's shower and sleeps on flowered sheets. But you look past it. String cheese isn't so bad. But then finally the taste of the string cheese along with the milk chocolate finally hits the wrong taste bud. Nasty. What on earth were you thinking? String cheese and chocolate? As if. So you spit that one out too. Rinse and gurgle a few times. After a short pause you go back to the box of chocolates. You know Caramel is in there somewhere.
3. Which brings you to the Chocolate on Chocolate. You take a little nibble. Mmmm. Das good no? Chocolate on chocolate is attractive. Chocolate on chocolate is very stable. Chocolate on chocolate has a good job. You wonder if maybe it's chocolate on chocolate you've been craving. But then chocolate on chocolate tells you it's kinda stuck on someone else. Ohhh. Right. If it's too good to be true then it probably is. But you only took a nibble so maybe you'll go back for more later.
4. In the meantime you find The Cock Chocolate. I mean The Hot chocolate. (heh heh heh) Hot chocolate talks the good talk. For some reason he has made you think he's romantic. Makes you think he's stable. Hot chocolate knows the art of phone sex. Yuppers. Hot chocolate can make you cum on the phone. Whoa. (TMI?) So you bite into Hot chocolate hoping for a little caramel and...wait what's this...Hot chocolate has turned into curdled, discolored milk. Um. GROSS! Spit it out! You may come back to Hot chocolate and nibble at the corners a bit. You're not sure yet. You're still not over the whole phone sex thing. That was fun. As long as you keep in mind that there is definitely curdled, discolored milk inside you should be okay.

This whole time you're thinking about The Caramel Chocolate. You want it so bad you can taste it. You've had a nibble of The Caramel Chocolate, but you're forbidden to sink your teeth into it. You pray that there's maybe more than one in the box. Ug. You pray "Please, please don't let that be the only Caramel Chocolate." You think about that first Caramel chocolate ALL THE TIME. It promises there's another in the box. It's says it's really not all that good. (It only says that because it's been beaten down so bad.)

Anyways...you hold out hope for another Caramel Chocolate. You know you'll get it one day. But it really sucks that you have to go through all of the other bad chocolates to find it.

Let's chalk it up to a learning experience shall we?
So far you've learned that you shouldn't settle for sour. Sour turns to ass. You need to put ass in it's place.
You've also learned that if a chocolate has six bars of smelly good soap in it's shower and shops more than you do than it's probably really string cheese. Don't go there. See the warning signs.
You then nibbled on chocolate on chocolate. You learned how to back off and protect yourself from any possible harm there. I'm very proud of you for that one. Very proud. You might even be rewarded with another nibble or two from chocoalte on chocolate.
Then, you learned that some chocolates worlds revolve around their cock. You made a few mistakes, but that's okay, you're learning. No biggie.l You did learn the art of phone sex.

At this point, you're not frustrated. You're kind of laughing about the experiences you've had w/ chocolate. You're somewhat disappointed, sure, but as long as you keep rinsing and gurgling, you'll do just fine. You may even publish a self help book one day on bad chocolates.

Lyrics

I've found an awesome radio station that doesn't fade out on my 45 min. trek to work. It's a variety, but mostly 80's, which totally excites me.
I've listened to Tom Petty tell me I "don't have to live like a refugee."
I've listened to Prince (or formely known as) sing "Purple Rain." I totally love that song.
I've heard how "all the school kids are so sick of books, they like to punk in the metal band. They've got the groove. Oh way oh. They're walking like an Egyptian."
I've learned that "I'm not scared of too many things. I know what I want, if you know what I mean. Push me in the shallow water, before I get too deep."
It's been fun. It's been a real trip! It's brought back many memories. Like, dude. Fun times. It's really made the distance between work and home much more bearable.
(place mental picture of me cruising along, singing at the top of my lungs, bobbing my head to the rythym here)

I happened upon another song that I have never heard. Broken Road by Rascal Flatts. This is such a beautiful song. If I ever find my caramel chocolate, this will be my theme song.
Bless The Broken Road Lyrics
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.

I'm weeping...isn't that beautiful...and to "hear" it is just that much better. Okay, so I'm a sappy romantic. So what?

FYI: Andrew the fireman is definitely not my caramel chocolate. Nope. Nadda. Makes for an utterly boring story that I won't tell here. But in further news... after a month, Darin, the UPS man (NYE blind date)...called me. Wants to get together Saturday night. Hmm. I'm down with that.