DrowNINg IN THE BiRd bAth OF LIfE

BRING ME THE FOOTBALL...

2011-08-27T07:42:00.003-04:00

It is that time again: the beginning of the NFL season. (Well, not *quite* yet, but it's coming. I'm counting the days.) I had my work Fantasy draft last night and, while I say every year that I'll have a bedrock draft strategy, it never really turns out that way.

See, the thing is, other people are drafting, too, so the likelihood of my team displaying Brady at QB, Peterson and Foster as my RBs, Andre Johnson, Calvin Johnson and Roddy White as my wideouts and Antonio Gates as my tight end...that probably ain't gonna happen.

My team is called the Galloping Ghosts, an allusion to perhaps one of the best collegiate football players ever to don the leather helmet: Red Grange, the Galloping Ghost. He tore it the fuck up at the University of Illinois. I Googled an image of him, running, and I added a bit of color to the black-and-white. You should see it above.

So, there was a draft. My keeper was Adrian Peterson, and so I had hoped to land a top-notch wide receiver, such as Andre Johnson or Calvin Johnson. They were both gone at my pick, number eight overall, so I took a flyer on my first pick and selected Matt Forte from the Bears. Meh. We'll see what happens.

This is my team: At the quarterback position, I have Eli Manning and Joe Flacco. For running backs, I have the aforementioned Adrian Peterson and Matt Forte, and, as back-ups, I selected Ryan Torain and Ladanian Tomlinson. I think I have pretty decent wide-outs: Larry Fitzgerald, Brandon Lloyd, Plaxico Burress (I'm looking for him to play like he has a lot to prove), Mario Manningham (the WR-QB hook-up), and Mike Sims-Walker--I think Bradford will be looking his way a lot. Tight ends are Jason Witten (always a point-producer) and Tony Gonzalez (not what he used to be, but still a factor). I nabbed the Eagles Defense/Special Teams and I grabbed Dan Carpenter, the kicker for the 'Phins, as my last choice.

We'll see how this all shakes out, but I think I have fielded a competitive team. I had a few blunders in the draft, namely taking Eli instead of Peyton Manning, but I think, overall--fuck it. It is what it is. I just can't wait for the regular season to start! Long live crash-mouth, holy-hell-hitting NFL football!

Lottery

2009-12-22T21:09:00.002-05:00

Could have.
Would have.
Should have.
Play the right numbers
without a voodoo hex
or a universal prize
who knows if you win or lose
it's all in how you play
the game
of life.

Flawed

2009-10-24T03:22:00.004-04:00

You make me feel perfect
then tell me I'm flawed
who the fuck do I think I am
A butterfly with a broken wing
and a frayed, leaking heart
and a bruised, twisted mind
I swallow the pain like rain
mixed with cold, wet leaves
that scratch as they go down
into my stomach that boils
like witches brew
I am through with this
it took me nine years
to get over him
but I will never
get over you
I left you to a diseased world...

Before the surgery...

2009-10-08T11:02:00.004-04:00

What I believe is that we are all one. I never knew my biological father but I had a Papa and for that I am so grateful. Naomi came as an Easter angel, she literally resurrected me from the dead. My life was headed nowhere fast. One time I snorted cocaine and I think I had a mild heart attack. I sold my soul to the devil so that I could live through it. I don't believe in a devil per se but I do believe in evil energy. I take back what I did that night. I am officially selling my soul to love, the positive life force. "All you have to do is think of a place and you're there." So, I am writing this because I'm getting ready to go to the hospital for surgery and just in case. I am so thankful for the wonderful people who have entered my life and also the not so good, they were there for a reason too. I am blessed to have felt such great love, some people go through life never experiencing it. And to the people who have harmed me in anyway, I forgive you. And I forgive myself for harming others including myself. My self has harmed my self. My birth chart said I was here to find my twin soul and I believe I found him. I don't know why but I've had this sweet voice in my head head over the years, an angel's voice telling me to prepare myself because I would be one to die young. I hope to live a long time and I often pinch myself for thinking this but understand that it is something outside of me that has told me this. I hope to prove her wrong. But just in case, know how much I love you, please know what I believe in. Love. Give it, show it every chance you get. "Shower the ones you love with love." and do this in memory of me, just in case. Seekers see the signs other people call coincidences.

(A work in progress)...

2009-06-23T00:07:00.005-04:00

butt naked
on hands and knees
in the bathroom
tears combine with chemicals
cleaning horrific memories
scrubbing and wiping and wasting
away impurities
in her mind she
comes clean with herself
and this is therapeutic.

SUICIDE

2009-05-09T16:41:00.005-04:00

Faith and hope
are bombarded by
fate and destiny
faith says
the only hope is me
fate says
take my hand and run with me
destiny says
I am inevitable
but the only voice you hear
says
tie the rope around your neck
and hope for a way
to ease the pain.

Dear Mom...

2009-03-01T01:58:00.002-05:00

I threw away your baby shoe. There was
only one, brown and white leather--size baby shoe.
I threw away your pink corduroy baby bonnet,
with the satin white bows all trimed in lace.
Cutie pie purrs next to me, laying
on the bed as I write this.
He was there when you died.
Me, you and Naomi.
We moved out of your tiny social security
apartment,
the one where Naomi and I slept on a mattress
on the floor, where two feet away--you smoked
and popped pimples and talked about
monies from the Bank of Bangledesh or France or Ireland,
as we slept.
You left a lot of stuff there, but you told me
to make sure I took the box in the closet,
you said I'd want what was in it.
Letters from school friends,
grandpas Navy cap,
drawings and writings,
Beatles memorabilia.
I condensed a large box of stuff into a
smaller one.
I threw away the leaves you pressed
in wax paper, from 1965.
These words are all that's left
of the stuff I threw away.
I think about the people who live
in animal dung huts and how they live.
Passing on traditions through words.
They don't pay gas or electric bills,
they have no running water.
I don't mind throwing broken antiques
into a box,
and hearing the clank and break of treasures once cherished.
Boxes full of stuff,
how long must it be passed on?
There are no words to go with them.
Who knows the story?
I came across a birthday card, mom.
I was two years old when I gave it to you.
I remember the card with the lady
on the front, holding a cute kitten in her arms
she is dressed in a patterned blue dress
with a white apron,
the cat is black and white.
I gave it to you 33 years ago.
I kept it, put it in the box,
with the other random choices.
I threw away the Christmas tie
that used to plays carols.
I threw away the thing that covers your
eyes while you sleep,
it said, dream big dreams.

To touch someone with words,
is like touching someone who is blind.
Once the words touch you,
you don't forget.
Feeling blind is not the same,
as seeing blind.
Everyone hears in their soul.
We often mistake,
seeing for hearing.
Feeling requires no seeing or hearing or taste or touch.
People write about what they see, feel or hear or smell.
Nothing can be any of these;
therefore nothing doesn't exist.
I feel nothing is
no thing, I understand.
Stuff exists
and we are full of stuff.
Forever, I will remember the dream
when you told me the only difference between
life and death...
is sound.

Margaret my mother, I love you.
*fairies glisten and sing Happy Birhtday--03-01

USURPED..not the title I configured--WALKING BEAR

2009-01-24T03:01:00.005-05:00

So. I read about China and Shirley McClain. And I remember being 3 years old and the Chinese exchange students who stayed with us. Yes, I was only 3 years old. So, back to the point. Stuff. I have a lot of stuff and as I was packing and I found "walking bear"--a stuffed animal bear who is purple with extra long legs and my deceased mother gave this bear to Naomi. As I packed the various stuff. I thought what means the most to me? and her the life I have given meaning to? Who is she and what do I need to say? and the point is this...If this is the only writing that I have to give

***

First off?! I can not believe that my Meegie remembers shit from when she was three. Fucking. Amazing.

Meeg needs to pay attention--stay awake--enough to complete her opus. I can't stand quitters.

***

To give to my daughter. My Nay. Babe, this *is* my flesh. Passed down from mother....

***

The Night He Shot Himself...A life experience

2008-11-12T23:38:00.002-05:00

This November 26, 2008, makes it 20 years ago. WOW.

It was November 26, 1988--two days after Thanksgiving. I was 15 and my boyfriend Robert was 16. We used to hang out at an arcade, among other teenage places. That particular day I spoke to Peanut (his nickname) on the payphone in the arcade. I asked if he were planning on going to 'Shakers' that night, a teen dance club that we frequented. He told me he wasn't going and he wanted to come to the arcade, so I could give him some money (that's a whole other story--where I got my money). I told him I was leaving the arcade and going to 'Shakers'.
I'll never forget the last words he said to me,
"You're leaving? Well, I'm leaving, too, then."
He hung up the phone.
I walked up the sidewalk of the plaza to the grocery store where our friend Sam worked as a bagger. I asked him if I could ride with him to the club and I did. After being there for about an hour, Sam got called to the front door. My heart fell, I knew it was Peanut but I didn't follow Sam to the door--you know how stubborn teenage love can be. Sam came back and told me that it was Peanut, he was with Jack and they were cruising around drinking and they were totally smashed.
I thought, Damn, why didn't I go to the door with Sam?
I really wanted to see Peanut.
On the way home I asked Sam to stop by Peanut's house and he told me,
"I can't, I have to get the car home and they probably aren't there anyway."
He dropped me off at home, I went to my room, turned on the radio and contemplated calling Peanut, at the late hour it was. Finally, I picked up the phone and dialed his number.
His sister answered the phone, "Hello"
"Hi--is Peanut home?"
"No"
She hung up the phone.
That was odd because I babysat for her and she was friendly to me, even if I called late at night. I lay in bed, tossing and turning and yearning for Peanut to call me.
I slightly dozed off and the phone rang.
"Hello", I said hopefully.
The sobbing coming from the other end was uncontrollable and incomprehensible, I couldn't tell who it was.
"Who is this?", I asked.
That's when I heard between the sobs, "Peanut shot himself in the head."

!?WHAT?!

"I'll be right there", I replied.
"No don't, the paramedics are taking him out right now," his sister informed me.
She told me to call back later, at this time it was around 4 AM.
I lay in my bed stunned, shocked, flabbergasted, dumbfounded--there is no word to describe the feeling.
The song on the radio caught my attention--"Ohh Baby I Love Your Way."
I began to cry and I kept hearing her words, he shot himself in the head, in the head. I told myself not the arm or leg, the head.
Face it Meagan, he is dead.
I got up and went to the bathroom, closed the door and splashed cold water on my face. When I turned off the water, I heard a sound and I opened the bathroom door and stood at the top of the stairs. I heard the sound clearer; it was coming from the downstairs closet. The metal coat hangers were clinging together and I was in disbelief, confused--no word can describe this feeling.
I thought--are one of the cats trapped in the closet?
I stood there for a few seconds and the sound became restless and louder. I ran to my room, got into my bed and threw the covers over my head.
I thought--don't haunt me Peanut.
I kept repeating, "find the light, find the light, find the light."
The next thing I remember: the sunrise shining through my window (I hadn't fallen asleep). I wanted to call his house but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I called my best friend and told her about the call from Peanut's sister. She came right over and informed my grandparents about what happened. Then she came upstairs to my bedroom. I felt like I was stuck in my bed and I couldn't move. Eventually, I arose and went downstairs.
I opened the closet and stared into it--every single coat hanger had something hanging on it and no cat jumped out.
My friend took me to her house and she called Peanut's house. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
She didn't have to tell me, I already knew--he was dead.

This is a true experience and I know that when we die, something happens, our energy leaves our body. You never truly understand, unless you experience it for yourself and this was my experience--well, one of them.
The reason his sister hung up the the phone so abruptly--the phone rang at the same time she heard the gunshot.
RIP Peanut, your as free as a bird now.

I ended up in a psychiatric hospital diagnosed with depression. I wrote this poem as I looked out the window in my room there.

Through the inch spaces
implanted in the blind
in a shatter proof window
I look at the pine tree
green with a pure white blanket
covering its ground
from which it grows
Its branches slightly swaying
then the cold wind--swoosh
and now it's shivering
just like my soul
in this cold, cold world
I fight back the tears
strength I feel
oops only two teardrops
this time.
The sky is blue
and ever so bright
with hope of a brand new light
which you have found
I'm sure of that
I just wish you were still
here
It wouldn't be easy
but a whole lot better
'cause then at least
we could shiver together
I feel like I left you
when you needed me most
'cause that is how I feel
empty
like I need something
no one else can do
but you did though
I may have hurt sometimes
there still was a lot of
surprise
the twinkle in your eyes
the way you calmed my insides
good and bad times
but now time doesn't
matter
it keeps passing by
just like a cold breeze
blowing, shivering
through a tree
which is me

You did what you pleased, not a care in the world.
That's a lie, look at all the pain you had inside.
Only covering it with pride.
I can't believe you died.
Without saying, at least--
good-bye.

Collide

2008-10-16T20:57:00.004-04:00

My life at this time is sad and happy. confusing and profound. blissful and sorrowful. hectic and relaxed.
Balance is what makes the world go round.
I have a needing urge to write but don't know what to say.
Everything seems superficial and intricate.
I wrote a critical review for my anthropology class (Myth, Magic and Witchcraft). I love to write, it is my passion but sometimes I get so tangled up in my thoughts and the words don't come out right. I can write for hours at a time, I've stayed up many nights writing until dawn.
I wrote my first poem in kindergarten.
I wrote my first rap when I was 12, "My name is QT and not Roxanne"...maybe I'll post it someday.
I am greedy with my writing, paranoid that someone will steal my words (Really, I think this happened before and no I'm not schizophrenic. It was Enimnem. And I just found an anagram. Enimnem=Men I'm in...Men in men.
Whoa life is.
I need to read the dictionary and increase my vocabulary. I need to learn, to not write fragmented and run-on sentences. How do all of these ; - : , . (work)?
My grandmother had a Masters in Linguistics and I can hear her say,
You pronounce the word this way...The correct wording should be...That is a double negative...?!?
I write and read it over and over, correcting sentences, adding words, erasing sentences. I need write with a flow.
My life is flowing with the current of life.
(I say this, as well as, other affirmations everyday--see I totally screwed up that sentence).
I am happy and healthy and full of energy.
A girl at work is writing snippets of her life story and naming the chapters after song titles. She says my book should be named, "Bun in the Oven" because it is quite literally true when you have a schizophrenic mother. Who heard voices telling her to, put the baby in the oven.
I am stealing her idea and naming this chapter, "Collide." (period then quotation--right?!?)

In the article titled, Body Ritual among the Nacirema, Horace Miller (University of Michigan: 1956) describes Nacirema rituals as, "the extremes to
which human behavior can go." Miller's purpose for writing this article, was to
show the reader the diverse ways of culture and their rites, rituals and
ceremonies. He was permitted to examine their shrines and have their rituals
explained to him while being a participant observer immersed in their culture.
Miller concluded the Nacirema to be "magic-ridden people." In my opinion, his
article was interesting and thought-provoking in a way that makes you
astounded by the vast examples of human behavior; however, at times Miller
seemed judgmental. For example when he stated, "For most of the population
shows definite masochistic tendencies." Can someone state that something is
perverse and wrong because they don't truly understand why the behavior is
being exhibited?
The Nacirema is a North American group that believes the human
body is ugly and diseased so they perform rites, rituals and ceremonies which
are often done in privacy consuming a considerable amount of their daily life.
Their homes have shrines; a box built into the wall where their charms and magic
potions are kept. Medicine men write down the ingredients in an ancient and
secret language and the herbalists provide the magic remedy. Medicine men
help to mend the sick (if they can afford it) in a temple called a "lati pso" where
elaborate ceremonies are performed on them. "Holy-mouth-men" are visited
once or twice a year to exercise the evils of the mouth. They do this is an
extraordinary way using various awls, augers and probes which some would
consider dangerous. They also seek out special "listeners"; a type of witch-
doctor who rids people of the devils lodged inside their heads. The Naciremas
daily body functions are disposed of in a sacred vessel, which is done in secrecy.
Men perform a gruesome rite that involves scraping their own faces with a sharp
instrument. The women conduct an inconceivable rite where they bake their
heads in a small oven. Lucky women who are blessed with well-endowed
breasts, make a handsome living traveling to villages letting men lust after them.
In contrast, sexual intercourse is taboo and performed as a scheduled act and
children are conditioned to feel ashamed of their sexuality. Pregnant women
hide themselves from the villagers by wearing over-sized clothing. Some even
hide their entire pregnancy without their mothers knowing until they give birth.
Other rituals are performed to make fat people thin and vice versa, the bizarre list
goes on and on.
I feel Millers purpose for writing this article was to illustrate that magic is
exhibited through the eye of the beholder. From a modern day perspective,
many of these rituals are seen as unusual or different. Miller wrote about these
people and their cultural idiosyncrasies with vivid, repulsive descriptions. When I
read, "The ritual consists of inserting a small bundle of hog hairs into the mouth, " I choked on my saliva as I felt the hair going down my throat. While reading the article, I felt he was a spectator looking in on a alien culture with a twist of judgmental deliberation. As I read the article, it caused my mind to wonder...Who are these people and why do they display such odd behavior?
Miller claims the people to be barbaric and masochistic...but do they stand
out this way in the large scheme of humanity? Miller states, "It is hard to
understand how they have managed to exist so long under the burdens which
they have imposed upon themselves." But who is he to claim their rites and
rituals to be burdensome? I believe his purpose was to show that you literally
can't judge a book by its cover or judge a people solely on how they appear to
us. When we evaluate our behavior we can find similarities in most other
cultures, as well as differences. Miller's evaluations appear extreme until you
realize he is simply an outsider to a foreign culture.
The following week in class, I discovered Miller was actually describing
Americans. I was bedazzled! I read it over and over again and each time I found
another meaning that I'd missed from the previous reading. In my overall
opinion, I felt that this article was misleading and judgmental. I believe it is not not fair to judge humans by their cultural differences and it would be beneficial to
observe the culture with an open mind. One should use objective and unbiased
descriptions and try to view the world as a distinctive, diverse, collective whole
with the same basic needs for survival. I feel this article would become a
different story if it had been written today. A place where high-tech neon lights
drown out the devils that come to inhabit the bodies of the night. Where music
blares into the streets telling the people, " Abra-abra-cadabra, I want to reach out
and grab ya (Steve Miller)." "You know I got a strange magic. Yeah, I got a
strange magic (ELO)."

*whoa* I just previewed this and the formatting is screwed up. Go figure.
And now I'm going to pst it with not a care in the world or 1,000,000,000,000,000,000 cares for the world.

I Went On Vacation And Took My...

2008-08-18T21:57:00.007-04:00

apples, bananas, cats, dogs, friends, electronic devices, golf balls, horses, idealism, jelly beans, king snake, lover, money, naughty shirt, Oppenheimer fund, purse, quixotism--I don't remember the rest, except what I said for the letter Vv...I'll let your imagination run wild.

You have to find something to do while waiting in line for water slides. FUN!

Our pictures were taken with models and we had conversations with run-of-the-mill commoners. We had a spiritual, philosophical talk about reincarnation with a Baptist couple.

"Sometimes, you meet someone who says something that makes you want to research and question and find the truth for yourself."

Adam was asked to be a "wing man" and we got to call people "Ohio-ians" [sp].

He impressed us by riding down the enema slide without needing to visit the bathroom.

"I clenched", he said.

We played in the wave pool next to a H.C.

Thank goodness we finally found the hotel, after going back and forth on the same road, from gas station to party store, asking for directions.

GPS got us there!

We walked into the room, our eyebrows raised with a sigh of relief.

Simultaneously--"WOW"!

The hotel room was trendy and chic, a terrific price for such elegance and it came with free continental breakfast--bonus.

The decor was like a picture from an IKEA book.

The color scheme of browns and whites, harmonized with the coordination. The green ice bucket matched the soap dish that said--look at me--but gave the feeling you couldn't really use them.

The carpet design was a Hierographic maze.

On heavy, square, white plates--the hotel restaurant/bar served little, round,
$10 pizzas.

I won't say he bought two of them =-0

I should have taken a plate--what?--they never would've known (no points deducted for improper grammar ;0)

The bed was high off the ground with fluffy pillows and soft linens. The room had a large, flat screen TV that I viewed Edward Scissor Hands on--surrealism in the finest form.

As I picked up some loose change on the table, I told Mikey, "don't forget to tip the waitress."

"Yeah, you should tip the waitress but don't flirt with her", he replied.

He is 10 years old.

"Look I found the Bible. The. Holy. Bible."

I'm glad we spent a little more money and didn't stay in some Red Roof Inn that smelled like stinky feet or worst yet...stinky sex.

At the Columbus Zoo, I had the pleasure of viewing some of my favorite animals.

I watched seahorses swaying in the oxygen pumped into their aquarium, tails curled around sea grass and their emotionless, fairy tale faces looking back at me--through the looking-glass.

I believe they are highly evolved creatures--the males carry the babies.

On under-proportioned flippers, the manatees moved across the bottom of their pool, slowly floating up to the top for some oxygen. They're more active than the koala bears which sleep for 22 hours a day (even the small child knocking on the glass couldn't wake them up).

I drove 3 1/2 hours to see an animal that sleeps all day.

Good thing their cuteness makes up for their laziness--but seriously, a manatee has more oomph.

We descended the stairway of heaven into a cool and moist cavern. The guide pointed out the "Leather Lips" formation on the wall, a chief Native American, said to have perished there--along with an ox owned by some guy with the last name of Adams. His ox fell through a sink hole causing the mysterious hollow underground to be discovered.

The ground you walk upon becomes amazing once you've walked underneath it.

I told him a story, that I've kept locked-up inside myself for all these years.

In the mirrored 69" x 13" closet, my big toe nail scratched his perineum--but that's nothing compared to a dog bite!

Randomness continued...

2008-07-30T21:29:00.004-04:00

The air was sticky just like the floor she stepped onto. The ants were invading the cat food and the surrounding floor. The half metal, half cardboard box that she lived in trapped heat like a convection oven. She could smell the perspiration fuming under her armpits.
"Sure as fuck is hotter in here then outside."
She bent over and wiped the floor, back and forth, as the smell of bleach filled the humid, sticky air. The sticky floor transformed into a sparkling oasis, one good enough to be fucked upon. Clean with an accentuating smell. As much as she loves cleanliness, she also loves dirtiness =-O

"I should put up some blankets to block off the 120 degree rooms."

Now, that was a good idea.

"I'll sleep on the couch--or I could turn my room into a sauna."

Ultimately, she decided on the couch which caused her--in the morning--to feel like she'd been hit by a Mack truck.

Speaking of Mack, she remembered a boy in the third grade by the name of Mack. He wrote a letter asking her--check the box: "Will you go with me? Yes? Or no?" She'd answered--yes. The next day he told her, "I want to fuck your pussy."

And she cried.

The teacher took her into the hallway and asked her what was wrong. "Mack said, he wanted to fuck my pussy."

Prince said, "They only imitate their atmosphere."

Sage words, Minnesota-Dude.

***

Good to the last drop. Coffee. Um. No thank you, I have mitral valve prolapse, caffeine doesn't agree with me.

***

She remembers the day her mother--Margaret--learned of her dooming heart disease.

"I have a bad heart," she'd told her daughter.

No, Mom, you have a perfect heart and a perfect imagination and a schizophrenic mind where voices come and go as if you were in a train station...where puss oozes from pores and you can taste the smell of disease.

Thank God! She is free, now.

And thank God I have a clear and clean mind--well...most of the time.

Time is a memory. Good and bad times--we are told to remember the good times.

Ah, the night I met Trent Reznor--now that was a good time. The only rose that knows my name.

Until next time, fasten your seat belts--they can be used as a floatation device--and enjoy the ride.

Life is a game; it's meant to be played.

Most of all, remember that your love never goes to waste. Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones--Coldplay...or Hotplay in this case.

Oh. And the love you feel in your heart; you take it with you.

Segue to Patrick Swayze. From, um, "Ghost." He said it better than me.

Even the most desolate soul who has never experienced "true love" will feel it at some time or another because..?

Because?

We all have the chance to experience everything--at the same time.

Now?

I want to fuck you like an animal =-O

2008-07-26T04:03:00.007-04:00

The Planets aligned in our
favour
as you securely held my hand
while we said,
"...on Earth as it is
in Heaven."
Your friendly smile felt familiar
as the synchronicity of the Universe
flowed through our veins.
We share the same demons
with angelic qualities
and idiosyncrasies.
You assure me
of my beauty
brushing the hair back from
my mascara black stained
eyes
my worthiness is apparent
your touch transforms
my cells
have never experienced
a love like yours
true, gentle and kind.
My cocoon is
slowly shedding
I've been inside hiding
with fear of the unknown
but I'm ready
to take flight
with you beside me
forever.
If we have to live
in your parents basement
I'll sweep the floor
everyday
and have dinner
on the table
no later than
7:33 PM
a Caesar salad with steak
for you
and plain for me
and we'll plant a
banana tree
in the backyard of
our LOVE.
We understand each other
as individuals
we become one
at the same time
we say the same thing
"...lead us not into
temptation
but deliver us
from evil."
I thank the heavens
that I've found my
soul mate
and he has
found
Me again.

the life you crave

2008-07-01T12:51:00.007-04:00

you tell yourself
you're always the one
who needs to be rescued
you've lived a hard life
battling your demons
but not compared
to others.
Father forgive me
for I have sinned
but I need to borrow
money again
sprinkled with Hope and Faith.
you tell yourself
someday I'll make a list
and cook dinner every night
and throw things away
that I don't need,
to pay bills on time
and make your mother proud
and treasure people
like myself
and yourself
will you find me
amidst the stuff and things and ramblings
empty bottles and plastic
containers and clothes
that lay on floors beneath
heartaches and hangovers
remind me
that only I can
rescue myself
fallen from the angels
and drowning in the bird bath
of life.
you tell yourself
you've wanted
needed this
since you were a child
arranging dusty knick-knacks,
a wooden poodle with ruby eyes
and books on shelves
teen-age romance novels
and thing-a-ma-jigs
arranged perfectly
just like the life
you craved
and some things
never change.

DAISY-CHAIN-OF-WONDERFULNESS

2008-06-16T23:39:00.003-04:00

Mikey and I went to the zoo and heard the Lion's roar (this is a tremendous sound!), saw a Basilisk (did you know they can walk on water!), saw the Hippo out of the water (very cool! they hardly ever come out of the water), saw kangaroo's mating ("you mean that sex thing", says my eight year old godson!).
He caught a strange caterpillar with a diamond shaped head and a pointy-thingy sticking out of its back. It fell off the leaf and he was sad that it was lost but I told him,
"It needed to stay at the zoo, so another person could find it and admire it."
We saw the camels and a mother scolding her child who was hysterically crying,
"You want a spanking?", the stressed-out mother huffed to her overly-tired toddler.
"That won't help", Mikey said as we walked past, in his wise-beyond-years-way.
When we came home, we went for a walk in the woods, along the path we saw daisies and he said to me, "We should stop and pick some daisies".
"Yes, we should". And we did.
I made my first daisy chain and proudly wore it home.
My daisy-chain-of-wonderfulness.
Now go and pick some daisies and make your own chain. And don't forget to,
"Smell them".
They are smell-less but I breathed them in and said,
"ahhh, thank you god of the daisies".

2008-05-30T23:23:00.003-04:00

Insecurity walks into my heart
without even knocking
Trust grabs my throat
squeezing fear into my mind
The Universe cries for us
as tears smear chalk promises
colorful dreams turn muddy brown
Tomorrow a new dawn will appear
and I'll draw a permanent hopscotch
that will never fade away

Memories are like fiction...

2008-05-27T22:18:00.004-04:00

Here is an attempt at fictional writing (sort of). Never mind this isn't fiction. I'll try again some other time. The again, some of the dialogue is probably fictional because I didn't write it down at the time, so therefore, should not be considered verbatim. Thanks Grandma, I know I screwed up that sentence. *LOL* and
yes, I know you can see that I'm finally, slowly lifting myself from my pity pot. *smooches toward heaven*

The tree was decorated with ancient ornaments, a fake cookie with a bite taken out of it, a ballerina that spun around and around, a little elf wearing red suspenders and pointy silver shoes and a bulb from the 1940's that read, "Merry Christmas".
"Put one on that bare branch", and I obliged covering every inch.
Christmas morning I came downstairs and opened my presents with glee and surprise. I knew what I was getting because I snooped but I'm a great actress. Grandma was sitting in her over-sized chair with a blue and green crocheted shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Holding up my unwrapped Mickey Mouse pillow, I looked over at her and smiled.
"Grandma, are you OK?" She was white with a grey tint and I knew something was wrong. She smiled lovingly at me and said, "I'm just a little cold."
My health teacher just taught us about heart attacks and the signs. Grandpa was in his reclining chair reading the newspaper and I told him, "you have to take grandma to the hospital something is not right".
They went (or...they had gone!?!) to the hospital and I went to my aunts for dinner and more truly surprising presents, I didn't know what they would be. The mood was somber and contemplative. In her psychological demeanor, Aunt Becky said something along the lines of, "well, her eating of a whole Saunders Carmel Cake in one sitting, finally caught up with her. She was trying to lose weight but swimming twice a week doesn't work when you eat like a hog". I went into the bathroom and vomited the honey-baked spiral cut ham, the green bean casserole and the plum pudding.
Grandma lived for another Christmas which she attended fashionably in her wig. We all knew time was the enemy and we had a truly lovely time with no family arguments or forced smiles. Looking back now, I realize that family arguments at Christmas are the worst. Not always arguments but more like snide remarks that jab the heart. Why did my family do this at Christmas? They didn't see each all year? But I remember one too many, with one sister crying or shouting or both. The Christmas magic helped me disappear into my Sunshine Family Home or my Disney Train Track that stopped at the Ferris wheel, giving Mickey and Minnie a ride. As I got older, it wasn't so easy to disappear into a bottle of sweet-pea-scented-lotion.
Grandma died on February 13th (the day before Valentines Day). I was a grown-up age of 18. I grew up fast but that story is a whole other cake walk, come walk with me, on the wild side, some other time.

8 THINGS

2008-05-22T20:59:00.005-04:00

Eight Things Meme

Eight things I am passionate about:
1. LOVE
2. PEACE
3. WRITING
4. MUSIC
5. ART
6. FAMILY AND FRIENDS
7. VEGETARIAN-ISM
8. SEX

Eight things I want to do before I die:
1. Get married in a beautiful wedding dress
2. Explore more caves
3. Live on a lake
4. Be a grandmother
5. Write a book and/or screenplay
6. Experience
7. Grow
8. Learn

Eight things I say often:
1. I LOVE YOU
2. SHARN IT: a combination of shit and damn. Mmmm, lovely.
3. GO TO BED
4. GET OFF THE PHONE
5. THANK YOU FOR CALLING...MY NAME IS MEAGAN, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?
6. ohhhh, mmmmm, uhhhh, uhhhh...
7. I'll do it tomorrow.
8. Often times, I say the same thing Adam is saying, at the same time =-0

Eight books I’ve read recently:
1. Skinny Bitch
2. The Power Is In You
3. Younger By The Day
4. Tomorrows God
5. tabloid (I know)
6. tabloid (These don't count)
7. tabloid (As books)
8. Everyone Poops (Thanks Ryan)

Eight Movies I have seen Eight times:
1. Purple Rain
2. The Wizard Of Oz
3. The Sound Of Music
4. Spice World
5. A Cinderella Story
6. Mean Girls
7. Gone With The Wind
8. porn

Huh, that wasn't easy. Thanks Jen Bun for racking my brain. Not poetic in the least bit, but there you have it ;0) and I stole your idea about being passionate for sex!

somethings my mom taught me and I taught her...

2008-05-12T00:52:00.003-04:00

flowers
children
fairy tales
and love
the peace
that i have looked for
in the smell of rain
the taste of snow
the music of a baby voice
is,
most of all,
alive
and so, with time
and slowly
i have learned
that i can hold nirvana in my hand
and suffering,
when it plays its part
can bring release
in truth,
it purifies-
this suffering of love
the roses give their fragrance
with their thorns
the seasons give us life
they give us death
we give
what we were made to give
sometimes it is our sorrow,
to be alive-
so full of touching
tasting wonder
feeling, deeper still,
a soul
that aches to share
paints life its deep or subtle colors
makes each day a precious
breathing secret.
leave tomorrow
as it should be
a delicious question mark
and leave the past in poems
where it rests in peace as past
i am not afraid to cry
for baby birds that i find dead
for any friend who looks
past empty doorways
seeing nothing but despair
but unlike many saints,
philosophers,
and scholars
i can give what i have learned
from sorrow
give them earth that's
gentle, warm and bare
give them stars
to dream a little on
tell them;
always,
be alive to love

Copyright Margaret Spurck '2008'
Happy Mothers Day Mom
Rest In Peace

Top 10 Things (Copyright David Letterman) I've learned from being a mom:
10. Sleep will never be the same.
9. Your throw-up, diarrhea, blood, and boogers can touch me -ONLY- if you are my child.
8. My baby is the most adorable, cutest, sweetest, precious, (insert every other sappy word), in the whole wide world.
7. Singing songs from my childhood, to my child--Five Fat Freckled Frogs turn into songs called Five Green Speckled Frogs.
6. Cleaning is a never ending job.
5. Children imitate their atmosphere.
4. Laughing after something bad occurs, isn't so hard to do.
3. Back scratching is a cure.
2. Unconditional love is the greatest gift you can give or receive.
1. My child can call me a bitch but if someone else does--oh, its on.
Really, I'm a lover not a fighter.

At 6 months old, she was crawling to a pair of shoes amidst a floor of toys. At the age of 2, she was changing her clothes, playing dress-up, many times a day (and the pile of clothes continues). By the age of 5, I realized that we had very different fashion styles, I could care less about it and she LOVED it. I stopped shopping for clothes, for her, because she would no longer wear the cute-butterfly-with-matching-flower-pant suits.
Today, at the age of 14 (oh that makes me feel old, but wait, I'm young--yeah, really I had her at a young age, we look like sisters ;0) She will 'get ready' all day! like 2-3 hours--in the mirror, changing clothes, changing hairstyles, straightening hair, posing, staring at herself, change clothes again.
Geesh. It takes me, at the most, 20 minutes.
She loved sitting on my lap while I sang--"This is the way the ladies ride, ta'tree-ta'tree-ta'tree. This is the way the gentlemen ride, gallop-and-trot-gallop-and- trot. This is the way the farmers ride, hobble'de-horse-hobble'de-horse."
We played silly games like "Roll" where we'd lay on the bed, side by side, and roll back and forth while laughing hysterically. Her grandma and I played "Tickle Witch" with her, I'd hold her and get her closer and closer and closer to grandma--"THE TICKLE WITCH."
*heckling witch laughter*
The night her grandma died, she was in the bathtub and we played "Statue Monster."
I poked my head into grandma's room, "The Statue Monster got Naomi, oh no, she is frozen stiff, just like a statue."
I wrapped her in a towel, "what did grandma think?", she quietly asked.
"She was sleeping, or maybe the Statue Monster got her too."
*eyes open wide*
That morning, she went to give grandma her morning dance (she would turn on my mom's radio and dance around her room--in her younger years, grandma was a ballerina).
As Naomi danced, she would say--"Pirouette, plie, brise, nice, very pretty." *Applause*
That morning, Naomi came into my room, "Mommy, mommy, grandma is in her bed and she is purple." That was the saddest morning I can remember.
She is free now, "It's really cool, all you have to do is think of a place and you're there."
I know she is still here because she hugged me and I felt it.
Thank you Mom, for all of the signs--because of you, I believe and I will not stop, even if the sign says so ;0)
*unconditional love, a song by The Bees*

Vegan, Space Colonies and Premonitions

2008-04-17T21:07:00.004-04:00

April 13th is my birthday (or was rather), I'm 35 years young (and I don't look a day over 25 ;0). I went to the circus on my birthday, it was an orange-peanut-candy-fun-time. Yesterday, I became a vegan thanks to my bff Ursula buying me the book Skinny Bitch, don't read it unless you plan on becoming a vegan. 3 Years ago, I was a vegetarian for 3 years and then I smelled McDonalds and gave in. One day at a time, that is how I must look at this lifestyle change. Yesterday, I made my love and I some veggie burgers and spinach salad (thank you for cutting the onions and flipping the burgers ;0). Today, for lunch I had lentil soup and crackers without hydrogenated oils. Today, I also found out that I got a C in my Astronomy class (yea for me!) and I figured out that I've lived in the future before this lifetime or something like that. How? You ask. Well, I've had this recurring dream about stepping into an elevator and thinking--'oh gee, I hope this isn't the kind that turns sideways and leaves my head spinning' (or something like that). So today in Astronomy class, the professor was talking about space colonies and how you may take an elevator (that twists and turns sideways) to the other side of the colony (whoa). Also, today after I took Nay to the bus stop, I came home and got back into bed (I can get another hour of sleep), as I laid awake, I thought about an ambulance trying to find a street in my neighborhood. Why did I think about this? I don't know, it was just a random thought--then (probably 20 minutes later) in my half-sleep state, I heard the sound of sirens and when I left for work, a fire truck and an ambulance passed by. I hope they didn't get there too late. I'm in love with a clown named Bomb-Bomb. That is all, for now.

Resurrection

2008-04-03T21:38:00.003-04:00

14 years ago, the Easter bunny brought her to me. My due date was March 31st but she didn't come until April 3rd. I went into the hospital on March 31st to have my labor induced because I developed Toxemia. I was hooked up to an IV which dripped pecocin (a drug to start contractions) into my veins. The next day was April Fools, her biological others birthday. I call him this because he has never been a father or a daddy to her. No contractions started so they upped the dose. Still nothing the whole day and I was on a liquid diet, I remember my bff Shelley snuck in a pizza for me (thank you). Hehehehehe. Still no contractions for the whole day but the next morning, April 2nd I started having irregular contractions. By the morning of April 3rd they were coming 2-3 minutes apart. I watched the second hand on the
clock...tick, tick, tick...here comes the pain...OUCHHH. Rest for 2 minutes...tick, tick, tick...OUCHHH. I remember the nurse telling me I needed to be quiet because I was upsetting the other expecting mothers.
Oh well, excuuuse me.
As the day went on, various doctors stuck their fingers deep into my vagina to feel the dilation of my cervix.
"You're still not ready, only dilated to 7." I heard this for several hours.
I had an internal monitor (think of a long metal tampon) and a catheter. My other bff Ursula was rubbing my back and wetting my washcloth whenever it got warm (thank you). After about 12 hours, I remember telling one of the doctors, "get this baby out of me, I don't care if you have to cut it out, I can't take this anymore."
They brought in an ultrasound machine and immediately told me that I was going to have an emergency cesarian because the baby had passed meconium. Oh really!?! I knew something wasn't right--call it a mothers intuition.
I was wheeled into the delivery room and told to hold completely still while they inserted the needle into my back. I lost all felling from my stomach down. Weird, I felt what it was like to be paralyzed, not able to move my legs. Laying flat on my back with my arms stretched out at each side, I looked like Jesus on the cross.
"I feel like Jesus Christ and it's Easter," I said as the doctor cut open my stomach.
My beautiful angel Naomi took her first breath at 10:46 PM. She was 8 lbs. 2 ozs. and 21 inches long. I held her for 1 minute and then they took her away. She had to go to the intensive care unit because she was at risk of developing a lung infection from the meconium. The sad, sad thing was that I had a fever and I couldn't go see her.
The next day, I cried and cried and cried and cried. Somehow, someone let me go see her. I remember my grandpa was with me and I held her and we counted her toes. "Yup, she has all 10," Grandpa said. I learned later that this was a family tradition for all new arrivals.
Naomi's birth was a resurrection for me. I don't know what my life would be like if I
didn't have her.
Fond memories: When she was 2 years old and she would sing, "Tinkle, Tinkle Little
Star." When she was 5 years old and we went to Florida, I tried to explain how big the ocean was and she walked up to it and said, "Mom, it's not that big."
"All things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Trivial Pursuit

2008-03-20T00:17:00.003-04:00

"What is April's birthstone?"
"Umm. Taurus?"
"Birthstone?"
"Uh. Pearl?"
"No. The diamond."
*inside laughter*
I love how you kiss me.

Magic

2008-03-16T12:27:00.004-04:00

I've always believed in Magic
touching a field of wildflowers
a seed becomes whole
as the wind acquaints me
with your nostalgic, astral love
a distant cognizance, coming into view
through the keyhole, of all space and time

the velocity of gravitation
combines within us
underneath a banana tree
we invent our love potion
the stuff dreams are made of
and antidotes and anecdotes
on fascination street

Astronomy

2008-03-07T01:40:00.004-05:00

I find science interesting, a bit confusing, but nevertheless, food for the brain. I'm taking an Astronomy class (and currently failing but I can do extra credit!).
I figured it would be an easier grade than Biology or Physics. Learn the planet names and such, but boy was I fooled. Just Trying to understand all of the elements/concepts/theories of Human Beings and our birth place known as Planet Earth is flabbergasting, to say the least. From the science of sound to the science of trees, flowers, birth and death. Some say God is a Scientist. Some say there is no God. My mind can grasp a lot of Earth concepts, such as, how a child is conceived, how a plant grows or the water cycle. But when I try to grasp concepts outside of the Earth, I go numb. Jupiter has a moon with active volcanoes, 12 million light years away. Mars has a totally pink sky. Venus has an atmosphere of carbon dioxide, she'll kill you. Binary Systems and Messier Objects. And the comets and the asteroids and the meteor showers among the constellations. For every grain of sand on Earth, there is a star in the sky. There are about 100 thousand million stars in the Milky Way alone. There are millions upon millions of other galaxies. Who figured this out and how?!?
But in the complexity of it ALL, I see the simplicity, the cycle, the never-ending circle. The Earth revolves around the Sun, as the Moon revolves around the Earth, as the Earth rotates on its axis. What appears to end begins again, round and round, what comes around goes around. And energy (matter) can not be destroyed or created, just ask Stephen Hawkins. Astrophysics. And everyone has the chance to experience everything and these experiences never end. No wonder I feel so tired. And everyone is different but everyone is the same. And if I blow your mind, you'll become a Supernova.

grown-up children

2008-02-25T22:23:00.003-05:00

when i remember
wearing overalls
sitting on the warm cement
watching ants
kittens
frogs
and butterflies
took all my time
and raindrops
running down my throat
at night
falling asleep
windows a little open
to the smell of earth
and braclets
on my ankles
jingling through wet grass
dandelion chains of innocence.

i sometimes cry
for wasted beauty
and love
for all the ruined fairytales
of this imperfect world
but you are my comfort
shelter from a harsh,
unfeeling world
and i am
someone to protect
fragile and delicate
you try your hardest,
taking all the strength
you have
inspiration in a dark,
dreary night
and I am someone to love.

finding Time together
as grown-up children
to laugh and lay
on a sandy beach
drinking freshly-squeezed lemonade
with watercolors
and poetry books
and drawing books
children play in
the sky-blue horizon
we catch lightning bugs
and know when to set them free
we dig our toes in sand
and rinse them off
remembering innocence and
the candy bar in my pocket.

Wrong Delivery

2008-02-18T17:23:00.003-05:00

Today, as I skimmed through my mail, his name lit up like a 'REDUCED SPEED AHEAD' sign on the highway. He lives 6 trailers down from me on the opposite side of the road. I've seen him in passing, a short and stout man in his late 40's. He drives a Dodge Ram truck and he has a Cocker Spaniel. In the summer, he drives a shiny white motorcycle. The man's name is Richard Peeker. He is one of the poor, unfortunate souls with a name that taunts for life. I remember a girl in my kindergarten class by the name of Lucy Tight. Poor girl, now she probally suffers from an identity crisis. I guess it could be worse, his name could be Richard Pecker or Harry Dicker.
I should've written 'Delivered To Wrong Address' on the envelope and let the mailperson correct their mistake. But nooooooo, I decided to take the mail to the correct address myself.
Wrong-idea-light-pops-up.
Once before, out of the goodness of my heart, I returned a neighbor ladies credit card. I actually knocked on her door and said,
"You should call the postmaster because what if I wasn't an honest neighbor."
I expect my neighbors to do the same for me.
It was raining when I left the house with the good intention of rightfully delivering, the wrongfully delivered mail. I pulled my leather hood over my head and trotted off down the road. Actually, it wasn't too cold, the air had a spring-like ambiance to it. I leapt over a puddle and landed on Mr. Peeker's driveway. Against the pitter-patter of rain, I heard a sound. A muffled, whining-like, moaning sound. The walls of trailers are nothing but dry wall. I should've turned around but I stood there, trying to decipher the sound.
Is it a whining dog? or sex? or a helpless, kidnapped woman being tortured? Should I run home and call the police?
I stood there listening to this enigma like I had a nefarious-abracadabra-spell placed over me. I knew I had a decision to make, either I place the envelope ensconced in his doorway (I wasn't opening his mailbox, thats a federal offense) or I quickly run home. Time stood still, as I became a complete interloper.
Mother may I take 5 baby steps toward the door? Yes, you may. Now, I was about 5 giant steps away from the door. The sound continued and I could tell it was a human sound and not a dog.
Maybe I should knock on the door? But I was deterred by the thought of becoming his next victim.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the window, maybe he saw me?
Damn it and my altruistic nature. Honestly, could I save this woman? and why am I risking my safety over a frivolous piece if mail. Maybe, nothing is wrong and the Nancy Drew mysteries that I read as a child, are clouding my critical thinking skills. I could pull a ding-dong-ditch, drop the envelope and run. I was shaking, fighting the thoughts, trying to keep my equanimity.
Mother may I take 5 giant steps? Yes, you may.
I'm at the door and the sound I heard, made me gasp and jump 5 baby steps backward.
It was the sound of...an opening door.
He appeared equally as startled as I.
"Oh umm, I have your mail. I was just bringing it to you." I was shivering so hard that my teeth chattered as I spoke.
"I was just coming to check the mail, I'm expecting an important delivery."
He was standing partially behind the door but I could see he was wearing something black and leather, complete with a spiked necklace. I couldn't believe my eyes and I could barely stand on my legs.
"Dick, who are you talking to?" The womans voice, no longer a muffled moan.
"Well, here you are, sorry if I startled you." My arm extended toward the door he was going to open.
Opening in slow motion, he revealed his bare legs to me and let me tell you, either Mr.Peeker is a leaker or the rain got in my eyes.
Oh fuck, did he just wink at me. Blink, blink.

To My Valentine B-B - A.K.A - A

2008-02-14T15:01:00.004-05:00

I.
i want no more winter
with its cold hands
and its frozen smile
pure, virgin snow
so unstained
by shivering bodies
give me spring
warm, golden sun
green
love and birth
i want to lie
beneath a gentle sky
with you
and feel our bodies
mingle with the earth

II.
a simple song of gentle ways
three wind-chimes in a doorway
swayed and sung by gentle winds
black umbrellas
sleepy flowers
playing with a gentle rain
the softest kiss the sun can shine
the gentlest touch to smooth
the dusty heads of trees
and tickle small-child-toes
a frost so fragile gently breaks
if winter breathes too hard
the gentle words
of jesus-men
and buddha-men
the gentle silence
of saint francis
the gentle love
of you

What a long, strange trip its been

2008-02-07T06:02:00.000-05:00

I haphazardly opened the door and stepped onto the snowy porch. Warmly dressed in my 'new' velvet ~LOVE~ sweatpants with my Grey and Pink snuggly sweatshirt, under my puffy Royal-Blue coat.

One foot down a step, next foot down a step.

Slip. Slide.

Brace fall with my hand, just in time to stop the near-foreboding-disastrous face plant into slush. Staring intently at me, Naomi and the

10-year-old-neighbor-boy, Junior (Who happened to be walking by, at just the right moment. But ignored the omniscient premonition to bring out the video camera and instead opted for his shovel.)

They watched as I fell forward in a silent-slow-motion-movie-scene which turned into an eruption of laughter.

"Aahahaha. Aaaahahahahaha."

"OH MY GOD."

"Hehehehe, hahahaha."

"Mom are you - OK?!?

I'm laughing the loudest, trying to mask the pain.

"Ouuuuuuchhhhh."

Ewww, I'm also cold and wet. I stand up, walk back up the stairs and into the warm house. Somewhere - sometime ago, this mishap was written into the script of my life and damn it if that picture ain't worth 10,ooo dollars!

Why did neighbor-boy disobey the command!?! I could very well be on my way to being thousands of dollars richer. Thanks a lot chump. Your shovel sucks ass!

I change into dry clothes. This time I choose my Green, terry-cloth pants with my Arts, Beats & Eats T-shirt under my Black-leather-hooded jacket. Damn I prefer my puffy, Royal-Blue coat in this type of weather, but it was wet and I could not stand the thought of cold, wet fabric touching my bare skin.

Try again.

Thankfully, Naomi had the car started and it was warm as I plopped into the driver's seat. It was her idea to venture out into the winter storm for Thai food. She did a great job of removing the snow from the windshield and I knew the Drunken Thai Noodles would be worth the pain and angst of driving to get them.

Besides, I did not feel like cooking. When do I ever?

"Vvvrrrrooooommm, vvvrrrrooooommm."

The wheels could not move the car out of the driveway.

"Damn, we have to shovel."

"I'll help too."

Of course you will, you better be glad I have an insatiable desire for tasty Thai goodies. We shoveled for a solid, hard 7 minutes of manual labor and I worked up a big appetite. The sweat rolled off my forehead and I caught some salty drips with my tongue, salivating at the thought of the food turning cold, while it waited for us to pick it up.

Already, we were 15 minutes late.

I urgently, jetted off to retrieve the goods. The back end of the car sliding to and fro. I drove cautiously and precisly to the Thai Inn Resturant, where the food was lovingly prepared for our healthy consumption.

Safely, we returned home with our Noodles in hand and I ate them, savoring their exquisite taste. Shortly after enjoying my dinner, just as I was about to kick up my legs and rest...The phone rang...

"Hello."

"Hi Meagan, it's Ursula. Guess what?!? My van broke down and Mikey and I are stranded at Arbys. It died out, right smack in the middle of the road and would not start back up. Can you come get us?"

Approximately an hour had passed, since I last ventured out into the eye of the storm. I walked out my door, stepping into the snow, knowing that it hid a sheet of ice.

This time around, I told myself not to slip as I grasped the Silver metal railing. I looked over at the 'new' 3 inches of snow covering my car.

After wiping the snow from my car for a second time (OK, Naomi did most of it the first time), I thought, I'll never make it. I'm going to call and tell her. Ughhhh.

No, she'd do it for me.

I'm exhausted while trying to be compassionate, irritated but determined. On a rescue mission, I drive off into the Grey slushy, shimmering White night.

I only count two cars stuck in ditches on my way down the blistery, blustry one-lane trail.

Finally, after taking double the time to get to the destination, I anxiously approach the intersection and I can see the Green van's blinking hazard lights.

I turn into Arby's parking lot and Naomi goes inside. Then, she comes back out with a confused look on her face.

"They're not in there, are you sure we're at the right Arbys?"

"What, you've got to be kidding me!?!"

I get out, go in and glance my eyes around the empty dining room. I get back into the car, thinking it was a good thing that I finally caved in and bought a cell phone.

How did I ever live without one, throughout my twenties and into my thirties?!?

"Hello, where are you?"

"Do you see my van, look in the middle lane. I'm right here. Don't you see me?"

"Yeah, I see your van. Why are you sitting in the van with Mikey?"

"Mikey is in Arbys. I came out here to try and start it. It acted like it was going to start but it won't."

"OK, well ummm. I did not see Mikey in there."

"He is in there, he must be in the bathroom or something."

Or something?!?

"Do you think you could push me into the 7-11 parking lot?"

"With my car!?! Uhhhh, no I don't think so and I'm surely not pushing with my arms."

My shin throbbed with pain, I was going to have a sore bruise, resulting from my earlier fall.

"Can you just try to push it, I can't leave it in the road and I don't want to pay 50 dollars to have it towed."

Whaaaah. You might have to.

OK. Sigh. I guess, I could try.

"Seriously, your going to buy me a new bumper if I smash mine up."

I pull up behind the jolly, Green, giant van and gently tap my bumper up against its bumper. I wait for the Green, left turn light and push my foot down into the gas pedal.

The van is moving. I keep the wheel straight and gun it some more as the van crosses the lanes.

Woah, I'm pushing it with my car.

I glide it perfectly into a parking space.

Whewww. I did it. You're welcome.

I smell a burning-rubber-on-ice-plastic-scented-fume. It will be OK - I hope.

We drive back across the street to Arbys and pick up the kiddies. Naomi holding a paper sack of trans-fat.Feeling accomplished, I head on down the road. I am a good friend. You find out who your friends are during times like these.

Ursula, you know that - right?!?

"Will you stop and Walgreens, I need to get Mikey some napkins to take to school, just in case he has school. His class is celebrating the Chinese New Year."

"Sure, why not?"

While you're in the store , I rub my hand around my 'new' extremely-soft-steering-wheel-cover and thank the heavens for keeping us safe in the midst of the wintry blast.

Happy, happy, joy, joy - It's the Chinese New Year.

I get a vision of dragon.

I pull onto your snowy, steep street and the car goes half-way up the hill.

"What in the hell. Don't they plow your road?!?"

I reverse back down, making sure I don't slide off into a snow drift. The last thing I need right now is to be stuck at the end of your road and have to spend the night in your apartment.

Oh. I. Want. To. Go. Home. Now.

I start back up the road and the same thing happens, the car won't go beyond a certain point.

"You two need to get out and walk the rest of the way home. Good-bye."

"Ohhhh damn girrlll, I don't want to walk."

Are you *ucking kidding me!?!

"Ohhhh wellll, Mikey get out. Thanks for picking us up. Tomorrow, I'll give you some gas money. My car might start by tomorrow."

Fuck that...would an evil friend take their phone off the hook?

Bwwaaahhhahahahahahahahah.

Smut Meme

2008-01-28T00:45:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'll play the smut monger...

1. Chocolate or whipped cream? Whipped cream! With a cherry on top. So cliche, I know I need to get more creative with this.

2. Leather or PVC? Leather, it looks hot and makes you sweaty. PVC is a green-type of leather, meaning it's not made from cows?

3. Outdoor sex or indoor sex? Indoor sex in winter. Outdoor sex in summer.

4. In the jacuzzi or in the bed? In the bed. At work we'd go to this Chinese restaurant and after we read our fortune we'd say "in the bed". So it sounded something like this.
Fortune: We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then is not an act, but a habit...In the bed =0)

5. Bad sex or no sex? Bad meaning bad or bad meaning good? There is nothing bad about sex.

6. Dominate or be dominated? Dominate. I'm gonna tie you up and whip you... with my tongue.

7. Thigh highs or body stockings? What is a body stocking? OK, I'll go with thigh highs especially cause they turn him on.

8. Fast or slow? Both. Slow and then fast, faster, faster...oh wait.

9. Rough or gentle? Gentle unless I'm the one being rough. What? I said I like to dominate.

10. Bite or suck?! Is a nibble a bite? Suck and nibble then. With a side of slurp.

11. Role play or reality? Role play is fun but reality is really fun. Reality is really, the words they just go together.

12. Dirty talking: coming or going? Oh yeah, I should be a phone sex operator.
*idea pops up*

13. Edible panties or no panties at all? No panties under a skirt on a park bench or bent over one. Never tried the edible panties thing. But I have seen a package of some. Aren't they a gag gift?

14. Spanking paddle or bare hand? Bare hand, hands down.

15. Landing strip or Kojak? Landing strip. Something about a totally shaved pussy reminds me too much of a child. What is Kojak? Ok, I figured it out.

16. Multiple sessions or one good fuck? Both. Depending on the mood. Can you say multiple orgasms!

17. Moaning or screaming? Moaning softly. You learn to be quiet when you have a kid. Screaming when your having one - a kid that is.

18. Three-way or no way? Three-way is a possibility with the right woman. How about three-way phone sex.

19. Swing or no swing? You mean a sex swing, I'd try one out. Or wear one out. No, that didn't sound right. Or on the other hand, wearing it out from so much use. Could you imagine wearing a sex swing out on the town. Maybe, I've figured out my Halloween costume for this year. Heheheheeheeheeehe.

So that is my 2 cents worth of adult material, adult movie, bawdiness, dirt, dirty movie, erotica, filth, girlie magazine, hard-core pornography, indecency, indecent material, obscene materials, obscenity, porn, porno, porno film, sexploitation, sexually explicit material, skin flick, smut, soft-core pornography, stag film, X-rated material, X-rated movie.
I don't know how to tag someone, so yeah if you read this please feel free to re-post it on your blog. With your own answers, for sure!

Harp, Heart Strings

2008-01-16T00:14:00.000-05:00

My heart plays a harp
stringing together universes
where fire melts glass door's
through the window of my soul
they open
sagaciously piercing
shattering shards of hope
catch glimmering glimpses
of blue-green eyes
through-see-through-glass
desire acquires the key
unlocking a sea of dreams
where love conquers all
mirrors never disguise
you see me after
this time in space

The Bunny, The Toad & The Boy From England

2007-12-17T18:30:00.000-05:00

The ride down was interesting, to say the least.
Gramps smoked pot in Panama during WWII. A smokey friend and he re-enacted a scene from the movie Captains Courageous (1937). Gramps played Spencer Tracy and his pal Freddie Bartholomew.
Why is this my most prominent recollection of conversation?

We arrived at the All Star Music, not to be confused with All Star Movies, All Star Sports or any other numerous Disney resorts. We stayed in the Broadway section. All of it seems like a maze where the days and nights run into each other. As well as, the roads leading to all of the 'magical' places. You can't describe a Disney vacation without using the words 'magical', 'dreams' and 'wishes'.

One evening, after returning from a day of festivities, Naomi spotted a bunny and we fed it apple pieces. We laid on the grass, watching it through the precisely manicured bushes.
Charming-enchanted-delightful-brown-bunny-wrinkled-nose-cuteness-is-a-cure.
I needed a picture of a frog for the last project of my B&W photography class.
At the reception dinner, which was a Hawaiian luau, I received a glycerin soap frog with the words inscribed: At Last I Found My "Prince".
It came with a keepsake pewter crown charm. I took a picture of it.
One evening, after returning from a day of festivities, Naomi spotted a plump toad. We stared in awe, as it hopped along the sidewalk. I picked it up and placed it down, in the grass, pointing towards the bushy area. Afterwards, I may have forgotten to wash my hands.
Laughing-loved-kissable-bumpy-toadie-hopping-legs-cuteness-is-a-cure.

"Now Meagan, don't try to go and drive in Orlando traffic. It's reeeeealy busy. Everything you need is right here and you can take the shuttle bus to all of the theme parks."
Gramps was pissed off because he wanted to stick to his daily routine. At home, everyday he has a nut snack (not to be confused with nut sack) before his 'big meal' (meaning lunch).
Gramps and I went to Wendy's for lunch and we found the local supermarket called Publix. We picked up some sweet and nutty mix, a bunch of bananas, yogurt, orange juice and then Gramps placed a Hersey's chocolate bar and pack of Ice Breakers gum onto the grocery belt. Most of the time, he ate ice cream for dinner, he's 83 and he deserved it!

I was sitting on a bench when he ran up with a shotgun. He peered into the yellow cab's window.
"Oy Crikes tis it a real taxi?"
"Try to open the door."
"They nowt open. Someone could pinch it. I'm nowt gon ta hijack it. Me brother and I are playin."
"I saw you at the pool the other day. Looked like your brother was beating you up."
"Eh, he tis barmy but he cunt fine me. Me gun an Indian Jones, I'm gon ta fine the wanker and bang, bang, bang."
I don't have the exact accent. Did that kid say wanker!?!

The wedding was held at The Grand Floridian. Naomi rode in the horse-drawn carriage to the chapel. She walked methodically down the isle, dropping one petal at a time. I had to contain myself from saying,
drop more petals - drop more.
Someone said it's bad luck if the flower girl doesn't drop all of the petals.
Fooey.
Beth had a princess glow as she glided down the isle. She was a remarkably beautiful bride, for lack of a better word. On the altar, there was a picture of Ryan and a candle lit in remembrance. When Julie stepped aside for Scott and Beth to kneel down.
"Uhhhh." Was all he heard and I thought,
Oh my God, Julie's dress caught on fire.
Luckily, the candle tipped sideways and then tipped straight back up. This wasn't viewed by the guests, only heard. It was a sign from Ryan, he really liked Julie and it was a 'magical' place.
When Beth walked out, a glass explosion sound erupted and I thought,
Oh my God, the camera lights blew up.
Hundreds of colored streamers filled the air.
We blew bubbles as they stepped into the carriage.
We went to the afternoon reception of cake and champagne, which also included fancy cheeses and meats.
Julie gave a speech, in which she recited this quote from The Princess Bride:
"Mawiage. Mawiage is what bwings us togever today. Mawiage that bwessed awangement, that dweam wivin a dweam."
Beth sobbed.
We also had a night reception but it had to be hush-hush. Apparently, if you have a wedding in The World of Disney, you are trapped. Really!
We escaped into the night. The next reception was held at a near-by hotel.
We sat at the table named Fairy Godmother. This was quite appropriate because my dress left a trial of glitter - everywhere.
No one noticed, after their dance, when Scott didn't pull off throwing glitter into the air. The dress was annoying to wear, but at least it contributed to the ambiance. Beth had this reception choreographed and all of the songs picked out.
Chris, Julie and Beth performed a dance routine to a song from the movie,
Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.
We Walked Like An Egyptian, slowed danced to Madonna's hit song Crazy For You and did the Cha-Cha Slide.
'Twas Beth's 'magical wish' where all her 'dreams' came true. She'd only dreamt of that night since she was 7.
At 12:30 AM, Naomi, Christina, Liz, her boyfriend and I went to The Magic Kingdom , it was open until 3AM for it's 'magical' hours. A perk for resort customers. The girls in their lilac dresses and I in my Fairy Godmother dress. I took off my heels and walked around barefoot, only putting them back on to ride-a-ride.
I's aint no's redneck but ma feet hurt.
I deserved it! (not the aching feet but the barefoot-ness!).
That early morning, I took a shower and scrubbed my feet for 20 minutes, watching the black water swirl down the Disney drain.
On the way home, we stopped in Daytona Beach. I just had to say,
Hello-to-the-gigantic-awe-inspiring-wavy-wet-containing-vast-memories-washed-away-by-the-ocean-tide.
I took off my flats and put my bare feet in. We had a long ride ahead and I deserved it...(the barefoot-ness and the ride!)

Seriously...

2007-12-01T17:44:00.000-05:00

I'm annoyed by these e-mails that I receive, practically everyday. I saw a report on TV about these people in foreign countries who are sending these e-mails.
Now, my question is, who are these fricking-totally-dumb-Americans who actually respond to these bogus e-mails? Sadly, It is many older people who are taken advantage of, giving away their life savings. So, my question is who are these older-fricking-totally-dumb-Americans-who-give-away-their-life-savings?
I wanna meet one ;-)
And now for your reading pleasures - the e-mail...

From: Director, Intercontinental Bank Plc. Lagos Nigeria.
Subject: YOUR PAYMENT FILE TRANSFERED TO OUR BANK.

Attn: Dear Meagan,

We wish to inform you that your fund payment file has been transfered to us via the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) Bank.

Note that the Ecowas Bank which payment juridiction on defaulted payments within the 16 memebers states. Hence due to delays and non-payment of your funds as associated with your payment in your former payee bank, your payment file has been transfered for expeditious transfer.

Consequently has ratified payment in your favour starting with an instalmental approved payment of 10,000,000.00 USD (Ten million United States Dollars) to all default payment underCategory "C" of the payment schedule.

For a swift transfer of your funds, you are advised to reconfirm your banking co-ordinates within 48hrs upon receipt of this notification letter.Send also your address, your Mobile/ fax numbers.
Noteworthy, that from henceforth you must desist from further correspondence with any institution, bank,lawyer or person(s) formerly associated with your payment as this bank is the only authorised payee bank for your funds transfer.

Reply to my Alternative box: andrewjohn203@yahoo.fr

Your's faithfully

Dr. Andrew John
Director, Intercontinental Bank Plc

OK.Umm.Thank You.

2007-11-10T13:39:00.000-05:00

I wasn't intending to write a blog about this. Until, I read this. I love the part about the $50...LMAO! I can't try this myself. I'm going to have to drink some alcohol, before attempting the removal. Or maybe someone will do it for me, the removal of the splinter, that is.
Now, it's not hurting as bad, as when it first happened. Really, I should have skipped doing the laundry, thus the reason, for this mishap. And yeah, my sentence structures are a bit off ;-). Ok. So. I need to learn how to post a link. How about this. www.wikihow.com/Remove-a-Splinter-Under-Your-Fingernail
How annoying.

for the passing of another summer

2007-11-03T21:25:00.000-04:00

to find
that things
can never be the same
and lose the feeling
of old places
of old poems
of old friends
to finally forget
and then, some windy day
to suddenly discover time to think
to walk along a street
in rain and colors
reminiscent of a time
a train of thought
a pattern
left or lost
while gradually pursuing
a new life
to half-remember autumn
of a year ago
and retrace slowly
all the steps that led me
to this pain
and then to cry
for all the innocence
that kept the poems
and the friends
and places
from becoming bitter tears
call it
the tragedy of autumn
sorrow for a passing-passions
fire
that has burned itself to embers...
one more time
to feel the hot and tearing pain
of losing things
that slipped away
between a snowflake
and the summer sun
and then to laugh
because beyond the hurt
somewhere,
is still my free and happy love

The Sardonicism of My Assiduous Mind...

2007-10-21T20:27:00.000-04:00

Am I lazy or have I outgrown our modern day?
I have too many clothes, too much stuff. And it piles up. Why don't I throw it away? I don't really need it? What am I holding on to?
Lazy? Yes! I don't want to fold clothes, I don't want to finish painting the bathroom, I don't want to put gas in my car, I don't want so much stuff - to do.
Papers and knick-knacks and bric-a-bracks, hairballs and fast-food-wrappers. Burnt-out-light-bulbs and used razors, all go into the same garbage. Plastic containers hold this or that thing-a-ma-jig. Styrofoam let's you, take it home.
Outgrown our modern day? Yes!
Where are the Jetson-like-robots that fold clothes and paint?
Should I be recycling and eating organically?
Or will I continue to sit here looking askance...

The Society WE live in:

How I love to discuss politically-correct-sociology (*sarcastic wit* Am I being a twit...)
What would my ideal society be like?
Hmmmm...Hmmmm...
Like someplace, someplace over the rainbow, without so much STUFF...Do I belong in the 18th century. Could I live without?...Oh snap, back to reality...

Dear Sir or Madam:
Sunoco Pipeline L.P. operates high-pressure petroleum products pipelines and you either live, work or visit the communities in which we operate. We are your neighbor and petroleum products are essential to our way of life. Underground pipelines offer the safest, most dependable and cost-efficient means of transporting these products. We need your help to keep it that way.

Are you *ucking kidding me. You need my help? To keep what, what way? Cost-efficient means of transporting products - beyond laughable. You are my neighbor? Why is this world so *ucking oily?
Let me analyze this...
High-pressure power, literally speaking. Sometimes, I can understand Icke and his theory of Reptilians running the world.
Why don't we use SOLAR power or WIND power?
Why aren't food and shelter and health care provided?
Why aren't we the change we wish to see in the world?
Why do people, keep one eye shut?

aesthetic –noun
4. a philosophical theory or idea of what is aesthetically valid at a given time and place: the clean lines, bare surfaces, and sense of space that bespeak the machine-age aesthetic.

Machines and pollution and cancer - oh my...this isn't aesthetic...Who put a price on this?

Petroleum products are essential to our way of life.

Oh really!?! Whose life are you talking about? Some sheik in his gold-plated palace or some redneck on his ranch. Some bimbo in her High-rise apartment, eating caviar, playing with a dildo for the man-behind-the-curtain.

Suspicious activities near our pipelines that should be reported include, but are not limited to, people loitering, vehicles parked where they do not belong and people taking photos or monitoring pipeline facility operation.

Welcome to the NEW WORLD ORDER:
Take a number, binoculars, a camera, a gas suit, a shovel and don't forget your paddle - now relax and enjoy your stay, I mean your coffee...

GreenCurrents Renewable Energy Program
FREE $10 Starbucks Gift Card
Act by November 16, 2007
Enroll today for a healthier environment

What the *uck, I'm not blind. I can see the hypocrisy of this sham.

Cedar Point...Fun with a headache.

2007-09-30T18:27:00.000-04:00

I've been yearning to go to Cedar Point for Halloweekends and I finally went!
I usually go in the summer when the sun is beating down and the lines are 2 hours long. Yeah, waiting in line is part of the fun - right? People watching, reading shirts, watching lovebird's kiss, kid's giggle, moving forward 5 feet through winding metal walkways. Approaching the thrill ride and climbing aboard the fun machines.

As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that I should only ride my favorite rides, all of the others just lead up to the impending headache from being jostled around on rickety tracks. Centrifugal forces suck out your energy.

So, without further ado let me introduce you to my favorite rides. They will be ridden by me again!

The classic Raptor - KICK THE SKY!

The Skyhawk - The Ultimate GIANT Swing!

The Gemini - The blue train always wins, unless of course, I decide to ride on the red one!

The Skyride - What happens on The Skyride, stays on The Skyride!

A new place...The University of Randominity (a new word)

2007-09-27T22:40:00.000-04:00

I dislike the fact that I know what I 'should' do and I don't do it.

So, I Go-Around-The-Mulberry-Bush about it and say that I dislike this fact and I think/say that I don't do it. And I don't do it.

Seriously, is this how it works?

Becoming healthy - body, mind and spirit.

Tell myself that I'm doing what I 'should' and everything is as it 'should' be?

And then it will be?

Bluffing my mind's thought patterns.

Last night, I ate a Big Mac at midnight.

I was a vegetarian for 3 years.

I loathe Starbucks, Walmarts, pollution, corruption, oil heirs, flees, children picking their noses, paradoxicallity (new word), hate. Insert all other hostilities
here______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Actually, the word hate and detest and loathe should be removed from language.
Even though, they serve their purpose.

Then again, I don't want to loathe the places that give people a living.

Periodically, I shop at Walmart. I put gas in my car and in my home.

I'd love to own a solar-powered home and car.

Many times, I've shopped at Whole Foods. The store the paparazzi hang around and take pictures of millionaires shopping with their fabric bags. The next day, they hang out at Starbucks or McDonalds.

I should become a neologistical writer.

I know where meat comes from.

I know what the current state-of-the-world is doing to Mother Earth.

I've thought about running away to a commune.

I tell myself when Naomi goes to college, I will.

Miracles do happen.

I need to write everything down for everyday and follow through with a plan.

I just ate a left-over egg roll and it's almost midnight.

I think people can be healed naturally.

OK, here goes...

Monday

6:20 AM - wake up. actually get your ass outta bed and don't lay back down before taking Naomi to the bus.

6:40 AM - eat a banana. cereal (healthy type). o.j.

6:45 AM- take Naomi to bus stop.

6:50 - 7:05 AM - stretch, meditate, listen to music.

LEAVE FOR WORK NO LATER THEN 7:10.

TAKE LUNCH TO WORK SO YOU WON'T EAT THE FATTENING (uh, I mean unhealthy) FOOD.

DRINK AT LEAST 42 OZ. THROUGH-OUT THE DAY.

USE WORK-OUT ROOM AT WORK, DURING LUNCH HOUR. WHY THE FUCK (this word can be used in two ways) WOULDN'T YOU?

5:00 PM - COME HOME AND DON'T GO TO SLEEP!

PREPARE A HEALTHY DINNER AND MAKE SURE YOU EAT BEFORE 7 PM

11:00 PM - GO TO SLEEP!

HMMMM...that is my ohm.

Tibetan monks say OHMMMMM.

Things that make you go hmm, hmm, hmm. Damn, it's already a song.

Descriptive words are highly over-rated.

Banality of Normality (4 Bomb-Bomb =0)

2007-09-20T00:16:00.000-04:00

Normality is stauncher

banality acting as a confrere

takes you by the hand

to the middle of nowhere.

Close your eyes

feel the phosphorescent light

step away from methodical

and love will give you

shelter from a harsh, unfeeling world

I am something

that you protect

rest against me

while I search the sky

for something

we call peace

and kiss the kites

who take hands

with the sun and rain

together

in their crystal halls

chasing clouds

away

from the banality of normality

you smile

recollecting

one calm lover

waits with sugar candy

lilacs in hair

her prodigious world

becomes intrinsically

inherent.

Normally

banality whispers

in second thoughts

unusually

neologism becomes secondhand

Near-Death-Experience or Near-Life-Experience

2007-09-11T21:32:00.000-04:00

We drive through the hustle and bustle of life. Daily. Though, there are day's (very few) that I decide not to drive. Someday, I will purchase an old-fashioned bike. Someday soon.
So, the point of writing this, is as follows...
This evening, while driving to school on a 40 MPH road, I assume, I wasn't going fast enough. The car behind me decides to go around. But wait, there are cars coming from the other direction.
Don't do it, don't do it.
Oh lord, he is passing me. I glance over and see his handsome, young man. Doesn't he see the cars coming straight for him, I want to close my eyes.
Barely, he makes it.
Now, he is in front of me. Was it really worth a near-head-on-collision?
No, we stop at the same light, he is beside me, I roll down my window (the back one, cause the front one doesn't work).
"You should be more careful, I'm sure someone loves you. Besides, you didn't get anywhere any quicker".
"Your right, you have a point", he says. "I'm sorry about that".
I hope he took my point to heart. When my daughter starts to drive, I hope someone would say the same to her !
When I got to school the parking lot was packed - but just in the knick of time, someone pulled out of a space giving me the perfect opportunity to park, opportunely close. I didn't have to walk a mile to class. Thank God for small miracles...

Tonight, we appreciated Paleolithic art. Cave art to Stonehenge. The thoughts were/still are churning . Tonight, I appreciate speech, art, beauty, wonder, mystery. Time. Myself.
Tomorrow, I appreciate YOU =0). I'm in no rush to get there, I'm enjoying the ride.
Are you experienced?

Help...!...I can't sleep...being attacked...

2007-08-16T18:11:00.000-04:00

My oh my, what I'm I going to do come Monday!?! I've always been a night owl but it has gotten ridiculous. Am I becoming an insomniac? I just lay there tossing and turning. I do other things too.
What? If you were alone in your bed and couldn't sleep, you'd do it too - right?
Counting sheep, I was talking about counting sheep. Get yer head outta' ta gutter.
And the kitten, ughhh the kitten. He bites and claws and meows and nuzzles his head in my hair and suckles my earlobe. He bites my nose and licks my face. Last night, he was biting the band aid on my heel - ewww! I put him out of the room, shut the door (which is semi-broken) and he figured out how to crawl underneath it. Maybe, that has something to do with my new found glory of not falling asleep until dawn.
So, come Sunday night, all I ask is that you
(whoever you are?________of sleepy time),
help me fall asleep by midnight or threaten to turn me into a monkey's aunt.

Cover me in Clover

2007-08-08T14:48:00.000-04:00

Resting on delight, I stole the flight
plan of a little bird
she just taught me a word.
It was your secret name
they all come low and play their game
singing melodies so sweet,
knocking me off my feet.
I fell back down against a field of clover
bushels of a sweet, green love
that heaven ordered just this day
before the field was sold away.
Clover is still in my blouse
I brought it's scent into the house
my bosoms crushed and scented by
the blossoms that stain my thighs.
Each purple flower lent it's dream
to passions deep and fresh,
as tranquil running streams.
The creamy white buds covered me
until my body couldn't be,
believed.
Your love has covered me
the skies and purple too,
and mown down, green leaves everywhere
beside my cheeks and in my hair.
The ladybugs were every where
the butterflies for sheets and covers
a humming field of bees,
honey running to our knees
you swam down
before my eyes,
a haze of gold
we all did just as we were told,
by the songbirds resting on a hill
underneath I drank my fill
of summer clove wine.
I'm just recovering, I knew I must.
I sit here dreaming
without a frown
so peaceful now, they've settled down
the birds and bees in ladies' town
the ladybugs and butterflies
are dead or gone.
I wipe my eyes
I must have killed lots,
underneath my thighs.

Wish Me...

2007-08-08T00:16:00.000-04:00

Wish me days of peace
long days of sunshine
nights in soft beds
wrapped in warm arms
wish me blue-eyed children
full of questions
full of tenderness
wish me fields to lay in
streams to drink from
rains to walk in
wish me days to cry in
nights to love in
years to grow in
wish me dreams of past
hope for the present
visions of the future
wish me all the sorrow
and the joy
of one woman, bound to earth
and I,
before you leave,
will wish you all of this
and sew the buttons
on your shirt

I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

2007-08-05T01:13:00.000-04:00

You have to adapt this motto when raising a teenager! Yesterday, she went roller skating from 7:30 to 1:00 am, as she says, "roller skating is my life". Today, she wants to go again, after I already told her when I picked her up last night, that her cousin was coming over and not to ask me to take her roller skating. Of course she asked. She did plenty more than ask. She pleaded, cried, screamed, threw things, slammed her door, banged on her door, said she hated me, said I ruin all her fun. Excuse me, I make your fun happen. I didn't say that but maybe I should have. It's OK, I remember myself at her age and I know where she gets it from. One difference though, I got away with my behavior. She doesn't. What was her punishment? A half-hour in her room. Sounds like she got away with it - huh? Some may say, I should have slapped the shit out of her, maybe kept her in her room all night? She is beginning to understand that...I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I'm learning right along with her. Hopefully, she learns a lot sooner than I. I suppose some would call me an unconventional mother or a 'bad' mother or an unknowledgeable one. It's OK, they aren't in my shoes. It's easy to judge. Too experience is a whole other story. One of the hardest lessons to learn in life is this...No situation or person causes you to feel any way. You are the only one in control of your feeling's (to apostrophe or not to apostrophe, that is the question...lol). No one else controls them nor can you control anothers feeling's. Feelings are idiosyncratic. If nothing more, I hope to teach her emotional intelligence. I'm happy with our relationship, she tells me everything, I tell her everything. She is my angel who disguises herself as a devil at times. I wouldn't trade her for anything and everything happens for a reason.

Serendipitous, surprisingly special...

2007-08-02T20:20:00.000-04:00

This title pretty much sums up my life as of lately. Do you believe in signs from the 'other side' ? I do. After my mother died, I had a dream about her. She always ate canned fruit, straight outta the can. In my dream, my can opener was spinning around a can of fruit but no one was there. I said to myself, it's my mom and she still likes eating canned fruit. Yup. She 'told' me that the only difference between life and death is sound and then she gave me a hug and I really felt it. I love hugs. My aunt (my mom's sister) went to a psychic a couple of years after her death. The psychic said to her, someone is sending you a message from the 'other side'. Does the name Missy make sense to you? No, thought my aunt as the psychic continued the message. The psychic told her, she is telling me to let you know that she is free now and it's really cool all you have to do is think of a place and you are there. Tell everyone she loves them. Well, it struck my aunt later that Missy sounded a lot like the initials M.S. my mother's. It made sense to her now, she is free, free from her schizophrenia. When my aunt told me this, I cried and I just knew. Then a couple of years ago, I was thinking about writing a screenplay in which the opening would portrait a huge bee's nest as a metaphor for the world. I started writing and lo and behold, a couple of days later I was in my yard and I looked up in my tree and there it was, a HUGE bee's nest. It felt very surreal. I've been getting 'signs' a lot lately and it just feels right. I suppose you can't truly understand, unless you experienced it for yourself...Here are some song lyrics in remembrance of M.S... Jimi Hendrix - Little Wing...Well, she's walking through the clouds with a circus mind that's running wild, butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairy tales. That's all she ever thinks about. Riding with the wind. When I'm sad she comes to me with a thousand smiles she gives to me free. It's alright she says, it's alright. Take anything you want from me. Anything. Fly on little wing.

Intricate or Not?

2007-07-30T16:05:00.000-04:00

A new addiction - yippee. More bags under my eyes. I have a myspace and learned how to maneuver around it fairly quick. But this Blogger place has me totally confused. When I set my mind to something, try to figure something out, I don't give up until I figure it out or give up (duh?). The problem? I can't figure out how to add other peoples blog link to mine. Yeah, I'm sure it's so simple - har, har, har. I've viewed some very kewl blogs and I'd like to view them again. Also, I can't figure out how to change the format for my blog writings (yeah, I looked under the format link - did I miss something?), they are condensed and bunched up and I want them stretched out so when someone reads a blog o' mine they can read it from one end of the page to the other. So after two hours, I'm giving up and going to wash the dishes... That should be a constructive use of my time. Maybe, I don't want to get a computer degree?!?

Me_Again in a nutshell

2007-07-30T02:09:00.000-04:00

Hello fellow bloggers, who may gaze upon this blog 'o mine. I'll start by writing a bit about myself (not that I'm narcissistic but that is what blogs are for - right?!?). I'm 34 and proud to be an Aries (did you think I was going to say American?). Yes, I am an American, proud but not always in the same sentence. I'm a mother to a beautiful, 13 year old young lady. I have a cat named Cutie-Pie and my daughter brought home a kitten today - ughhh. I'm sure I'll have plenty to write about raising a teenager. OK, so yeah what else. I'm a writer by night *looks at the clock which reads 1:12 am. A preschool teacher by day, except for the summer when I am laid-off. Writing is a passion of mine. I get hung up on misspelling words, using improper grammar, punctuation and sentence structure mishaps. My grandmother was a Master of Linguistics and she always corrected my grammar. I tend to write like Kerouac (someone once told me I could have been his sister - to me that was an awesome compliment). I write as I think and sometimes my writing doesn't catch up with my thinking. Or vice versa. A favorite quote of mine is "I am a writer perhaps because I'm not a talker" - Gwendolyn Brooks. Well, I can tell I'll be learning to use the 'features' around here, as I just tried to space down and it didn't work - oh well. I'll just keep on writing. I just got out of a long, depressing relationship of 8 years and I've been single for 7 months. I've learned that the only person you can change is yourself and I am in the process of changing. I like to say, I'm in a metamorphosing stage. I've been sober for 5 days and plan on staying this way. I can be very random and it shows up in my writing. I'm nervous and shy when speaking in public and sometimes I cry. It's OK to cry, it releases the negative toxin's (I'm never totally sure of when to use an apostrophe, so I usually don't use them) . I like to make up words like dumbfoundedly or phantasmagorically. I like the words, thing-a-ma-jig and eclectic along with numerous other's. I've read the dictionary and will read it again and again. I don't mind it when someone I'm dating looks at another woman. Especially if she is beautiful, I'm not a lesbian but I've had a ménage à trois when I was in my 20's. To me, beauty goes deeper than the surface. I wouldn't be pissed if my man wanted to bring home another woman, so long as he was honest and I agreed with his choice. I'm very un-materialistic and have no fashion sense nor do I care to. My daughter, is totally opposite, she is constantly in the mirror, changing clothes. She loves shopping at places like Abercrombie and Hollister - ughh. She didn't get this trait from me. I'm fairly unconventional and comfortable with my sexuality. I love soft materials, good smells and sex toy's. I'm a wannabe vegetarian, I relasped after 3 years. I love gardening and my favorite flowers are the orchid, lilac, lavendar and rose. I believe in love and light and wisdom. I'm always observing and growing. I'm very non-political and sometimes I want to run away to a commune. I believe in treating others the way you want to be treated, even if that means treating assholes with respect. I believe in fairies and magic - have you ever seen a firefly? That's magic! And last but not least, I am a poet and I've always known it. I usually don't share my poetry because...well, maybe I am a bit narcissistic - aren't we all !?!