An Old Woman

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.

      
       All right, maybe she wasn't technically old, but 33 was starting to feel like an eternity of life. The gray hairs were starting a full on take over, battle front has been established. Some days, she felt her 33 years, some glimpse slices of time she felt 20 again, but on the average she felt older, her life compartment filled to capacity.

       Although she loved shoes, she actually lived in the average house with a large yard that she staged her own terrorist war daily during the summer. She's an army of one, armed with bug killer, weed killer, grass mower, tree trimmers, fertilizers and well padded gloves for those unfortunate moments when the most hideous of invaders, worms, get the surprise on her.
      
       Inside her shoe, she's armed with bottles of 409 cleaner, Windex, Pledge, Cascade dish soap, and her choice weapon for mass destruction clean up, a vacuum. 

She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.

       Actually, she had the average American amount of kids. 2.2 Carefully looking around, she's deduced the .2 child is the one who forgets to put away the milk, the one who forgot to do her chores and the .2 child is the one who gets blamed for anything and everything child 1 and 2 don't want to claim responsibility for.

       The old woman never wanted to be average, but defying statistics wasn't meant to be. She didn't feel like seeking out a random sperm donor and she couldn't stomach seducing the X for one night of procreation. So dreams of 3, went away with the concept of time.

She gave them all broth, without any bread.

       This concept has it's merits, anything to stay out of a kitchen. Looks aren't the only thing genetically inherited. Domestic Cooking Goddess skipped the divine generation of Rebecca. She's at least kind enough to toss some chicken in with the broth! Hell, she'll even give them bread, she adore's her bread maker..............

Then whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.

       That Mother Goose has a wicked sense of humor. Actually, she believed thats what her daughters thought last night when instead of whipping them soundly, she pulled her first back to school card out last night.

"It's a school night, love ya, sweet dreams and WOOHOO!"
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       My 13 year old denied me for the first time ever, walking her into school this morning. Going into the 8th grade seems to have elevated her past the level of parental support. I understood. It's still fresh enough in my mind to remember the horrors of my parents actually attempting to play the parental role around my friends, school, and just about anything else I was involved in.

       I respected her request. Ouch.

       My 10 year old was up 2 hours early and ready to head to school 1 1/2 hours before school actually started. She is my little sponge and she was hoping her teacher would give her homework. I was allowed to walk her into school, help her pick her desk, and hang out for a bit.

       The other parents and I, we exchanged looks, that only a parent dropping a child off at school after a long summer could understand. Harried Mothers, with above average statistics safely tossed their numerous children into their perspective classrooms. Mothers like me glanced at the clock on the wall, waiting until it was official. When the alarm went off, you could hear the collective sigh of relief as us parents made our way out of the school. I think the only groans I heard were from the teachers.

       I never appreciated school, this much, when I was a child.

There is an old woman, who must dye her hair
She lives in a nice home and adores good shoes
She has her average 2.2 and continues to appreciate
She bought many cookbooks, and invited Chef Ramsey over
She kissed them good-bye, and gave condolences to the teachers
She ran right home, for a private happy dance
Today it's all good.

Bio-Poem

Rebecca
Imaginative dreamer with a touch of eclectic breeze
Daughter of life and nature
Who is diverse, encompassing, and compassionate
Lover of humanity, individuality and chance
Who fears judgment, choice and time
Who needs divine love, acceptance and understanding
Who gives life her dreams, chance her heart, and people her hopes
Who would like a life of freedom, time without clocks and those I love, their forgiveness
Resident of humanity
Anne

That is a Bio-poem for the Grand Opening of Poetry Dance © . Brought to us by two wonderful writers/poets in our community.  Dawn of  Web Of Dreams   and Spencer of  Spencer's Place  have come together to provide a centralized place to for poetry writing. I've read what they have put together so far, and I see wonderful things coming from  Poetry Dance ©  . What? Your still reading this?

You haven't clicked the link to get the special recipe so that you can create a Bio-poem? Well,.........what are you waiting for? Oh, you need me to stop typing? Ok, fine, I'm done, going, I'm over at   Poetry Dance ©  .

See you there :o)

One final Whack

The finale, and some of the toughest questions yet..........

First up, Sassy Dee Sassy's EYE cracked like a whip here
Okkkkkkkkkkk sounds like truth or dare time! LOL re. Bahbaaaaaa...Here goes...

1) How/where in the world do you get your inspiration for writing as you do? This is a bit hard to explain. I'll say I have a mind that runs amuck 90% of the time. I'll be driving, hear a song and something, a sentence will come into my mind and I'll write it down. I'll be in a boring meeting and the way someone is talking with spit flying like rockets at the rest of us will inspire a short story I'll start writing during the meeting, on my lap. Sometimes I feel like Harriet the Spy, with my notebook that is ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS with me. Watching people, listening for inspiration, or a snippet that inspires an entire story. I think being a "writer" by nature, means to listen, watch, smell, and pay attention to every little detail in the things around us. Thats what sparks most of my inspiration, other people, the other half is inspiration from the life I create day to day. The good the bad and the ugly.................

2) If you could travel to any spot on the globe what would be your first choice? I'd travel to the place a man loves me.

3) Describe your ideal mate? (Oh I know this one will be rich! heehee) Ah oh, I'm in trouble with this one. Level 5 alert. I'll give it a try.
        On Appearance level, I have only one true requirement. He needs to be taller and heavier then me. I'm a bit of a Tomboy, and I'd hate to think I could kick my own mans ass :o) So being a tough little scrapper, I'm 5 foot 8 1/2 inches and usually hover at or just below 135 lbs. So if he's 5 foot 7 and 130 lbs, that just wouldn't work. I wouldn't want to have to pack his backpack and mine up a mountain~~~ Besides, I believe, for a woman, there's nothing more comforting then a man who you can wrap yourself up against and feel like you disappear in his arms, this just doesn't work when you are bigger then him :o)

       My ideal man would understand I need diverse in my life, that stationary is like placing me in a cage in the zoo. I pace and growl and get restless with mundane. He would understand I struggle with talking and accept the times I do talk with appreciation and respect my quiet times, instead of berating my silence. Ideal would love the outdoors as I do and appreciate nature as a gift rather then a right. He would be my flyfishing partner, who would allow me to fish at a distance or right next to him.

       My ideal partner would hold my hand, at anytime, at any place without embarrassment, without chastising me for it being "a wrong place" and he would understand when I wanted a hug even at the most inconvenient times. Ideal would be proud I was standing next to him.

       Ideal wouldn't let me handle everything. Ideal would help and mow the lawn and take out the trash. Ideal wouldn't consider me a free maid service at a high class hotel...

       Ideal, would take the time to read my writing, take interest in what was going on inside this brain of mine. Ideal would understand, my writing is the path to the inside of me and take the opportunity to explore. Ideal wouldn't pretend my writing is just "something she does to pass time" and disregard it.

Ideal would write me love letters.
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Jodi, Looking Beyond the Cracked Window....my favorite fire and brimstone lady of journal land, here ya go girl and HAPPY BIRTHDAY~~~~

hmmm run the other way eh? I gots me some questions there lady.... <eg>
1. What is YOUR proudest accomplishment....ever?? How ever simple it may sound, how ever small it might appear, my proudest accomplishment was winning Judith Heartsong's essay contest. It was the first time, and the second <win> time I ever handed my writing over for judgment and it was recognized and even applauded by this wonderful community. That recognition, was the spark, the catalyst or validation I self needed to embark writing the book <s> that have been haunting me for years, yet I was always so chicken shit, and self conscience to even attempt. I look up at the beautiful muse/light painting above my desk now, everyday, and remind myself that I can accomplish with my writing, if I only give it a chance.................


2. Throwing back at ya.... THONG/Gstring/All over coverage OR Commando?hee hee
       Well, I'm a thong kind of gal. I just can't stand under wear lines, plus, with a thong, you never have to adjust or pull at riding underwear that bunches up when you are walking. I know, I know, your all thinking "But with a thong it's already rode way 'up' there. It's about balance and good fit. With the right thong, it's about gentle ride rather then snug uncomfortable ride. An acquired ride, I could say :o) Once you get used to it, you'll never go back~~~~~

3. Describe your ideal friend...and do you still have close relationships with thoe forged in your youth(excluding family)??
       The longest friendship I have is with Sarah, who's known me since my teens. She's the only one thats seen me through the terrible teens, the screwed up twenties and now she's along for the ride of my thirties. My ideal friend comes without obligation, comes without expectations and isn't so toxic negative that they only shine black into my life. Ideal friendship is a rarity I understand now and am very careful about treasuring. My ideal friend is the type I can go 4 months without talking too, and I can call and it seems like we talked yesterday. Ideal understands my need for privacy and understand my quiet times and doesn't think it's a reflection of our friendship~~~

See I played nice :o)
Yes Jodi, you played nice! Thank you :o)
Whew, these were tough................
OK, this concludes my penance for asking Jodi if she wears a thong or all over coverage!
And now, we will go back to our regularly scheduled program~~~~

Rollin Rollin Rollin, keep those entries moving

This is the follow up to the torture chamber I strapped myself up too. I see a few high alert questions down there, but I suppose since I am now a butterfly slayer/murderer, nothing I could answer on these questions could be worse then that. Thankfully one person fessed up they would indeed take out an innocent butterfly in the name of a million dollars. Tillyx,  Adventures of a desperately fat housewife you are my new hero and may I mention here, that although she was brave enough to admit she would take out a butterfly, you must not hold that against us. Her journal is a delightful read, she's the up and coming J.K Rowling and has become a must read for me..............what are you waiting for, just leave your butterflies safely at home and go over for a visit!
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First we have Donna,Dust Bunny Protector with legal pad and a fine Barbara Walter's wig.............
Having read the finer details and already paying penance thanks to Barbie/A Ticket To Ride, my questions for you are:

1.  What is the household chore you have currently avoided the longest?  How long has it been? Cleaning out the laundry room. It is one of those rooms that honestly, I'm the only one that visits. I can shut the door to visitors, and no way anyone else in this house wants to go in there <that would mean chores> So it's become my catch all, clutter hell, and I can ignore it the longest. How long since I've cleaned it? Ummm 2 or 3 months. Yikes~

2.  Which of the presidents that have served in your life time, most closely reflect your personal/political views? Oh I'm claiming the 5th amendment here. I'm only 33, so that means I have but 3 Presidents to reflect upon, unless we throw Reagan in the mix, but I was a teeny bopper during his days. So that leaves me two Bushels of fluff and a Clinton bell ringer.

3.  If you could have dinner with any living celebrity, who would you choose? Well, I consider her a celebrity, a musician named Tori Amos. I adore her music, adore her "take on life" and think she's a pretty remarkable woman.

Thanks Donna, great questions!!! You only made me sweet bullets on one of them:o)

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Next up, Cinisoul, Am I thinking that Charles, who has given me some great, non-scary questions <thank you!>
Hmmm......

1. When you were old enough to get a drivers license were you eager to learn to drive, or were you scared to learn? Being in Idaho, a farm state, we had the privilege of getting a drivers license when we were 14. Not that I lived on a farm and needed to help out or anything, but I skated on that excuse to procure the golden ticket, a drivers license. I was EAGER and READY, much to my parents dismay. Alas, I look at my daughter who is turning 14 in March and now think....WHAT THE HELL WERE MY PARENTS THINKING??? I can't imagine Shelby now behind the wheel of a car in 6 months!! Nope, not going to happen, can't take that heart attack.

2. Did you go to your high school prom? Actually, I didn't. I was in a bad place during that part of my life and High School prom felt very much like amateur fun compared to what I was up too. Hmmm enough said :o)

3. Is there any type of food that you can't resist? Junk food, bad food, candy bars, yes, I have a huge sweet tooth. Next up would be pasta. This is why I must Mountain bike, a lot, or else I would have to give these wonderful treats up!
Thank you for your great questions, loved them!

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Next we have THE MEANING OF LIFE .....competing for Jodi's fire and brimstone title.........thankfully, just one question which may be the toughest of all.

Hey Rebecca ....its the ten gallon fire n brimstone hat wearer here hehe
I loved your answers and some of them level 5 questions were realllllllly tricky as well but ya did a grand job !
Ok i got one for ya .....

.Who in your life is the one person you can never say no to?
See that was painless hehe x
Painless I'm not so sure about :o) There is one person in my life, I can't seem to say No too. Someone who has taken me through hell and back and I continue to not give up on him. It seems when someone has "issues" or even a just the broken wing syndrome, I am a sucker and will continue to put aside my hopes and dreams to support this person and hope someday, he will see the light. Ya, enough said there :o)

Thank you everyone. I have one more entry with six more questions to do~~~~~~~

Keep On Movin

All right, I can't sleep, so what better to do other then count sheep? Answer questions that make you squirm. Here we go, the inside scoop, and I promise I left my chicken spirit back in bed to count the sheep flying overhead.......................

Starting, with Derek Celebration of My Exhistance who has proposed some interesting, level 2 and 3 squirm value questions.  <Level 5 has me claiming computer malfunction and running the other way>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1.  Who would you say knows you the best excluding yourself and God? Honestly, I'm a fairly secretive person. I carry far too many secrets in my vault of life, that would seem I should, and could share, but I don't. I'm not even sure if secretive is the correct word for the likes of me. Private sounds more appropriate. The things I do share, are usually written in a finely crafted code I've created over time, release is found, yet, specifics are kept in the vault. I have one girlfriend who has known me since I was 15, and although she says getting specifics from me is like pulling teeth, I would surmise she knows me better then anyone else.


2.   What do you think we learn from the suffering of loneliness, I think we've all felt that at sometime or another. This is a subject, I can call familiar. I think, the essence of loneliness can be used as a measuring stick for all other things. When we experience the concept of loneliness, we can again gage that turmoil against the good things that come along, the glorious in life, the little, the ordinary and the special. Holding those things much closer and with a greater appreciation. Seeing both sides of the mirror is the balance. 

3.   What is one thing about yourself that many people in the world probably haven't done, that makes youunique?  Your unique anyway!  But share something about yourself that maybe the majority of people aren't?  Like if you could put your legs behind your neck and walk on your hands.  (I used to be able to do that but not anymore)  did I make you laugh on that one?  woops that's four questions. Yes, you made me laugh :o) And I'll even let that 4th question slip by. Unique huh. This suddenly feels like a level 5 question. Unique, well, Hmmm, damn, looking around for something interesting I could say. Well, I flyfish like a fanatic, which appears to be unique for woman, yet I don't see it as a big deal. I like to take off alone, completely and totally, for days at a time. I haven't met very many people, at all, that do such things. Ok, thats gotta do it for now.
       If I remember some extraordinary talent, I'll come back and revise. Who knows maybe tomorrow I'll discover I can suddenly do something, anything. Is unique something towards the fact that I have a horrible phobia towards those disgusting vile creatures called W O R M S? Because I'm the only person I've ever met who holds such an irrational phobia...............And yes, I know my stock just plummeted. Remember I FLY fish, no vile squirmy worms required!
Thank you for the questions Derek!!

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Ari, Ari, Reflections of Ari what am I going to do with you <more like what am I going to question you with because to follow the rules you better have this thing on your journal darlin!>

What is your biggest triumph? At this point, because I have more triumph's to accomplish in this old life of mine, I would say........well. Damn, level 3 alert. A good Mom, would say Motherhood, but that doesn't seem like a triumph, it seems more like a privilege. So lets go with digging myself from a bottomless pit of nothing in my twenties to a position I can now support myself andmy daughters. It wasn't easy, in fact it sucked with an exclamation point of tactless suckiness. But I did it, and for that I am proud. 

And ... if someone offered you a million dollars to tear the wings off a butterfly, would you do it? Now, my first thought is where the heck did you come up with this one. My second thought is Oh wow, someone is going to report me to PETA, because yes, for a million dollars I would do this to a butterfly. But I promise, with the million bucks, I would spring for a nice funeral. Jeezz, now I feel bad and I didn't even do anything.

Same question, only this time with a fly. A million dollars for the wings of a fly? I wouldn't feel as bad doing this to a fly as I would a butterfly, although I'm sure the fly would disagree with the reasoning. But isn't that the way of it, beautiful things always get all the breaks. I'd still spring for a funeral, the coffin might not be as nice though.........

Thank you Ari, I'm sure I made some new friends with those answers, but come on, is there anyone out there that wouldn't do that for a million bucks? Or am I just a dreadful person?
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Chris, It's All About Me...I Think! thank you for your questions~ I see a possible level 5 down there, but I will be brave!

Hello and nice to meet you!  Here's the questions:

1) what's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you? Picking just one thing will be tough here. But one that really sticks out in my mind is this. 9th Grade, second day at a new school. New girl, new school, always a bad combination anyway you look at it. But here's the scoop <can't believe I'm admitting this> Second day of school I had to go to the orthodontist to get my braces off and got set with my new retainers. Mom dropped me back off at school with my mouth full, two retainers, top and bottom. I'm in English and clicking them around, getting used to the feel of the things. Suddenly, somehow, I clicked one out, it twisted and got caught sideways in my mouth. I couldn't close my mouth, couldn't dislodge the thing, couldn't talk. Mortified, I ducked my head and continued to attempt a dislodge. The teacher then yelled at me to pay attention and look at the chalkboard. I politely declined. Meaning I wouldn't look up. Drool is now pooling on my desk. She, being the brilliant human being she was, came over, stood above me and demanded I look up. So, I did, gaping mouth and all. She asked a question, I couldn't speak, couldn't move my mouth. She finally figured out what my issue was and sent me to the nurse. I instead belined for the bathroom and managed to get the thing unloaded. But........I was now nicknamed at this new school.....lock jaw. Not nice, not fun, and mortifying embarrassing.............

2) Who in your life have you hurt the most? (Hard one, I know) Level 5 alert. All right, his name is Thomas, and I still live in the shadow of consequence.

3) What is the weirdest, strangest or most different type of job you've ever had? I would have to say, when I was 16 I worked at a place called the Somethin Somethin for the National Federation for the Blind. It was strange, because my boss, was blind but I can tell you, the woman knew anything and everything we would try in silence. Pass a note to a coworker and she'd bust you every time. Try reading a book, instead of actually working and somehow, someway, she would know. It became a test of human stamina, her and I. Me trying to see what I could get away with, and her, always being one step in front of me. Thankfully she loved my personality, or else I probably should have been fired a hundred times :o) She would always call out from her desk "Becky, I know you snuck a Coke and a candy bar over there, no food allowed!" I think she had superhuman powers, beyond the whole heightened sensitivity of the senses due to her blindness. Either that, or the jokes was on me and she wasn't blind and just carried the cane to throw me off :o) I really did love her, superhuman that she was...........

Thanks Chris! Great questions.

All right, I've officially not behind now and officially embarrassed by some of those answers.
Now, I'll go rejoin my chicken spirit and those sheep.

Nothing Important, Move Along

Sometimes, you should really read the finer details before you toss a Barbara Walters wig on and shoot off at the typing fingers.

I didn't.

So here's a new, well, one of those things that goes around Journal World from time to time. Compliments of our very own Fire and Brimstone Lady, Jodi, over yonder at Looking Beyond the Cracked Window....

Remember, what comes around goes around...........be kind, because, well, I have a few questions left in my left brain that need new homes.......... <cheshire smile>  

The game:  ASK ME ANYTHING !!

Here's how we play:

- Ask me 3 questions. Any 3, no matter how personal, private or random.
- I have to answer them honestly. I have to answer them all.
- In turn, you post this message in your own blog or journal and you have to answer the questions that are asked of you. <hence the finer details>

Ladies and Gentleman, step right up and take a chance !!

** I will answer them at the end of the week in an entry**

 

Book Tag

I was tagged.
I've been dragging my typing fingers.
Gem, this is for you darlin...........................Journally Yours

       Tagged to share my books <more like library> with those who know me. That is what Gem delightfully did in her journal to me. When I read that I had been tagged, I have to admit I inwardly groaned. Why? Because I look around my office to start, and then throughout my home and realize I am my own library. I could issue library cards and never run out of books. So I groaned, not because I was tagged, but because to share would take the entire 25,000 characters in an entry..........

       I lend books out like there is no tomorrow, and yet, I'm still swimming in them. I suppose thats because I frequent a bookstore at least 2 times a week. Yes, I am even one of those suckers who paid the 25 bucks at Barnes and Noble for the additional discount.

       So, I've decided to make this easy, I will list the books within eye sight of my computer, so you get a taste of what I feed my brain cells..............Onward I type.....

Currently Reading:
Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott <brain feeding>
The Beginners Guide to The Kabbalah, the words of Rabbi David Cooper <on CD for driving time> <knowledge and understanding>
The Goodbye Summer, Patricia Gaffney <sinful entertainment>

Books I can see from my stationary position:
The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold
The Art of War, the Denma Translation
Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas, James Patterson
*Writers Market, 2005
To Ride a Silver Broomstick, Ravenwolf
Truth and Beauty, Ann Patchett
*Things I want my daughters to know, Alexandra Stoddard
*Emily Dickinson, collected poems
Wicca, A guide for the solitary practitioner, Scott Cunningham
Lucky, Alice Sebold
Quality of Care, Elizabeth Letts
Harry Potter and the Half-blood price, J.K Rowling
The Patron Saints of Liars, Ann Patchett
*The Iliad, translated by Richmond Lattimore
*Ralph Waldo Emerson, selected essays
On writing, Stephen King
Desert Solitaire, A season in the wilderness, Edward Abbey

Hmmm, thats just one shelf, enough to give a general idea I'm all over the reading world?

 * denotes never gets taken far from my grasp

       If they are near me, that means I've read them within the last 6 months, otherwise they get shifted off to other parts of the house to make room for the new ones.

       I step onto a fireball right now and say, I am not a literary snob. I will read a Nora Roberts romance if it's fun and entertaining, I will read The Iliad probably a hundred more times in my life along with Emerson and all the Dickinson I can get my hands on. I have my stack of classics that your mind has to wade through with precision and care and I have my stacks of sinfully delightful paperback romance novels.

       What I don't have many or really any of  <and Chris don't disown me> is self-help books. I walked that path for a long time a while ago, and found myself going even more batty then I already felt. I suppose, self help books, just aren't for me. I'd rather just self-wallow and tread water until I figure it out or drown~~~ Although, I have been embarking on a bit of a self-help assignment lately and I must admit, it's been a good challenge!

       Ok, Gem, am I in your good graces now? <thank you by the way for thinking of me, I really do appreciate the tap!>  I'd peg someone else, except I have no idea who else has already been tagged. If you'd like to share what you've been reading, please share! Send me over a link and I'll go check out what books you've been basking in lately.

       I ALWAYS appreciate a good recommendation and will promptly get out and purchase a book someone says took them in and entertained a few brain cells.

Hats, Hats, and More Hats

I have a mindful of hats today.

       During a joint session of Therapist Hat counseling last night with a distraught friend, I proposed an analogy of hat wearing female mentality. It really sunk in with a chair jumping, hat wearing, weight bearing relevance to the ordinary day to day us woman <and men> attempt with flair on just about every ordinary moment of our lives.

       Although my hats are invisible to the naked eye, I have a collection that could be picked up from Walmart to the couture, invitation only, back rooms of <pick any decent designer> fashionable designs.

President Official Motherhood Hat: Never to be taken off, never to be taken for granted, although weighty at times, it's a hat to be cherished and handled with care and precision. This hat isn't a right, it's a privilege from the top designers of life...........

Princess Daughter Hat <actually it's more like a tiara>: Being the one and only daughter entitles me to instant princess status. I love my parents and wear this hat <tiara> with appreciation and do my best to be a good kid.

Accumulative Family Hat: Coming from a large family has some responsibilities attached and I delight for the majority of the time, in the large close knit family I can go to, and they can come to me in both times of need and just simple birthday bashes <which I might add are many per month>

Executive of Maintenance Janitor Hat: If it's broken, I will fix it, or die trying. Fixed a toilet just the other day. This hat is from the Walmart section of life, but it's stuck until I win the lottery I'm thinking.

Betty Crocker Chef Hat: Until Chef Ramsey comes to cuss out my household and prepare culinary delights, I'm stuck with this hat too. Luckily for my darling children, I've taught myself how to cook other things besides hamburger helper! This does not mean I enjoy this hat, but one can only live on Hamburger Helper so long until one detests the smell of cooking hamburger meats............

Domestic Goddess Hat: Someone pinned this sucker on with straight pins when I wasn't looking awhile back. I'm more the "oh the button fell off, lets throw it away and buy a new one" kinda gal, but at times, I will force the issue within myself and attempt creative domestic handiwork into my caseload. I love little fleamarkets where I can purchase a beautiful crocheted afghan, rather then make one. Although I can claim, while I was pregnant, I did forceable make myself create a baby blanket for both my daughters. It was torture, but I prevailed.

Elegant Martha Stewart designing Hat: Much to my Mothers despair, this gene skipped a generation. Although that little refrigerator magnet that says "Martha Stewart doesn't live here" would fit nicely into my decor, I am the sole proprietor of design and elegance for my home. If a vase is staged, it's because my fine decorator hat placed it there.

Accounting Manager of Financing and Investments: This hat keeps the finances and bill accounting in order. A highly depressing job most of the time, it is what it is. Until I can persuade Donald Trumps accountant to swing on over to my home, I suppose I will continue to wear this hat and abhor the monthly accounting.

Taxi Cab Driver Hat and community bus driver: I don't know how exactly it happened, but I've been officially appointed driver for all extra activities that involve my daughters and their friends. The free rides will be over if gas really hits that 5 bucks a gallon stage, I'll start charging a "convenience fee" to the other parents who I've self envisioned sitting at home watching reruns of "LOST" while I'm out carting everyone around.

Decency Clause Hat: See entry below

Activities Coordinator Hat: I'm a wedding planner without all the bells and whistles. I can coordinate activities like Oprah's pro planner, classes, school activities, dances, sports, art classes, haircuts, dentists, movies, doctors, swim time and just about anything else that comes my way. Thank you PALM PILOT.

Pet Facilitator Hat: From feeding times, to Vet visits, grooming appts. to cleaning crap out of the yard, I'm always trying to stay one step ahead of the farm that my little city home has become.

Therapist Friend Hat: We all know what this one is, the call comes just as your sitting down for dinner, crying on the other line and suddenly you find you've inherited studious eye glasses, a legal pad and Waterman pen. You sit in your pretend leather recliner and envision your friend laying on the high class couch in front of you. There is an issue and you will get to the bottom of it, provide multiple solutions and solve the case at hand.

E.M.T. hat: Quick to administer Band-Aids, Tylenol, and assess damage in under 10 seconds, we mothers are astute at the medical practices required for handling children under the age of 18.

Queen Pants Holder of my current address Hat: This hat is basically a blanket hat that encompasses all the responsibility that I hold as soon as I step into my yard. At my home, every blade of grass, every dish, every bug that penetrates my line of defenses, every light bulb or piece of furniture is my responsibility. I look around and realize what a lot of crap I'm responsible for.

Head of Laundry Department: Enough said, this is a battle I will NEVER win unless I move to a nudist colony.
Head of Dish services Department: Enough said, unless I resort to paper plates, plastic utensils and disposable cookware
Head of Bathroom/Kitchen disinfection: Enough said, but I might add, I hate these hats too.
Head of Wood floors and Carpet Maintenance: Enough said, I just love dust bunnies, the little invasion rats

Commander in Chief Hat: I hold all veto and voting rights within my scope of world. Which means, what I say goes, what I do is my reflection of leadership and like archives of the Department of Justice, what I do, stays on my record. I can't be voted out of office, but protesters and sit-in's do have a voice. Sometimes it's a democracy, sometimes it's a dictatorship, sometimes it's just plain old parenthood.

       In conclusion, I could probably go on and on with my list. I didn't even mention the hats that are ALL mine and ONLY mine, maybe another day. But with my Therapist hat on during last night session with a friend in need, as I pointed out, we sometimes carry so many damn hats it's no wonder we all get alittle frazzled and strung out at times. I dare anyone to try to stack 10 hats on their head and try to balance them long enough to walk across a room without something falling to the ground. It happens, whether we want it too or not.

       We just have to carefully pick the dropped hat off the ground and keep on walking............

As always, these are my thoughts.....................................and yes, I intentionally left out my relationship/love hats because well, I wasn't up to heading down that hat store today <insert nice smile of evasion there> but your more then welcome to head that way!!

But I leave with this thought, how many more hats are out there that you can think of???

Ok, I'm back, it's been bugging me all day because I've thought of at least 30 more. But here's a few follow-up no brainers I remembered~~~

Quality Inventory Hat: For some reason, I am expected to know where anything and everything is located at all times in this homestead. You know what I'm talking about, the whole "MOM, where is my xyz" and the amazing part about it, 98% of the time I actually know where everything is!

Master Multitasking Magician Hat: <thanks Tilly can't believe I forgot this one> Without this hat, how else can you talk on the phone to the distraught friend, do the dishes, and play Monopoly with the kids all at the same time?

Head of Emergency Clean up Department: There is an infinite radar that goes off and the emergency lights start flashing on this hat before I've even seen damage. Dropped blood red paint on the carpet, I'm on it within seconds. Broken glass on the kitchen floor, I've scooped the kids up and safely placed them on the counter before the glass hits the floor. Yep, this one is a finely tuned instrument of a hat.

And there's MANY more, but well, I'm on the verge of overkill as I type :o)

Shopping

       As an ordinary female, with ordinary needs, I will whisper that I do indeed enjoy shopping for clothes, shoes, and hand bags. I find shopping can be it's own self involved, self enhancing, self appreciating adventure. There can be a fantastic elevating attitude and a "I look damn good today in my new jeans" mood that evolves around treating yourself to a new something.........

       This week, I abhor shopping, I detest it, I spit on Abercrombie and Fitch and wish I had a fairy Godmother to provide school clothes for my daughters.

Thats right folks, I've been school clothes shopping, burning the check book at both ends and loathing it to the fullest potential.

       If you've been reading this journal for a while, you may remember my entry titled Aye Captain,

http://journals.aol.com/justaname4me2/InTheShadowOfTheIris/entries/1227

telling the story of the Mother, the 12 year old, a Valentines Dance dress, the bonifide teenie bopper and the resulting mental damage played out. That was over one freaking dress...................

       I now have a 13 year old daughter and I can do no right in the clothing department atmosphere. I have officially lost my "cool" status, I am no longer in the club of confidence. I was even officially called a "Prude" by one of the supporting friendships, back up clothing advisor, tagging along one day for re-enforcements. 

       In case you are not in the circle of 13 year old clothing choices, did you know how impossible it is to find a tee-shirt that doesn't say anything along the lines of "I'm a Sassy Sexy Siren" or "Blondies have more fun" or here's a beauty my daughter thought was innocent enough "Pucker up, I'm blonde and fun" and the list goes on and on.........oh and we can't forget the multitude choices in the "I'm the hot one" and "I dumped my boyfriend, wanna chat?"

       Walking billboards of fashion prostitution. Yep, thats right, it isn't even whispered between lockers in the hallways at school anymore, you can just buy a tee-shirt toadvertise anything you wish.

       Now, in case anyone may be thinking my daughter is going to be pregnant and hired out by the time she is 15, I can assure you she's innocent enough at this point. Why do I know this? Because I've got a somewhat short leash on the child, I am home if she is home, I work my entire schedule around my daughters <hence why I am home for the summer> I had chosen a long time ago, to never put or allow my daughters to be an in circumstance where bad choices are pounding them in the head. Shelby is only allowed to go to friends homes where careful screening has been conducted and the parents are of like minded parenting skills. She knows the rules, and she also knows there are some pretty tough consequences already layed out in front of her if she were to choose to ignore them. I believe a parent should install a level of fear in their children, we're the adults, they are children. Just as I fear breaking the law and getting sent to jail, they need to fear breaking the laws with me.................

       So this isn't about a daughter who is out of line, out of control, etc.......this is about clothing choices available, what others are getting away with wearing, and what is, as I heard sooooo many times this week "But Mom's it's in STYLE" again, I spit on fashion designers for the younger generation!

       Thankfully, I do have the 10 year old, she's been easy enough to shop for. But you know what, when I make it through this school clothes shopping nightmare and send the little darlings back to school on the 29th, I'm grabbing what's left of my check book balance, heading to a few of my favorite stores, and recapturing the glorious feeling of buying a new handbag, a fancy pair of shoes and a new outfit. I may even find a tee-shirt that says "One sexy Mama" and buy it for meandering around my yard, watering my flowers...................<insert sarcasm, I'm joking, laugh here>

Recovery

       
       All right, I slowly stepped away from the NyQuil bottle and found a friend in Theraflu. Fever broke yesterday and I will force myself to rest and relax today. But my patience for such things is at it's end. I have a fishing trip scheduled for tomorrow, so it better release it's tentacles on me....today. Thank you everyone for your well wishes and advice. You know, the whole Jaegermeister sounds like a good concept Chris, but I believe if I tried something like that I'd have to add toilet praying to my ailments, thats some serious hard stuff for a lightweight like me <grin>

       Small strange admission coming.........To be honest, it was an actually a nice treat these last few days to be sick. I know, that goes against human nature. But lets look at the facts. How often does a person get the privilege of lounging in bed, all day and night, and again the next day? My darling daughters moved into their own versions of Mother Hen's, taking care of me, serving my every beck and call. My little one even brought me her little Liberty bell so I could "chime" them anytime I needed something. They even moved into this strange version of me, picking up the house, doing the dishes, making sure everything remained tidy. I even got slightly chided yesterday for leaving a used tissue on the kitchen counter.

       So I've begged for mercy during the rough time of misery and relished in being taken care of and having a legitimate excuse to turn my cell phone off. Even in misery, great things can be found!

       A wonderful person whom I met up with and fished with during my sabbatical has graciously emailed me several pictures he took of the fish I caught. I thought I would share one today, because well, I was so damn happy during that trip and had such a wonderful time. This picture is all me, all about my loves in life, all about my little slice of harmony and balance.....................

       For me, on the river banks, is when I feel most connected to the natural world. No makeup, no pretensions, no expectations, no duties, no worries are ensnared in this atmosphere. It's a place, I can just be me. Hmmm, I think everyone needs a place they can strip away all the weight and just be themselves in whole and natural peace. Even if the whole world is crumbling around me, I step into that little bubble and nothing can break in.

It's all good.

Rainbow Trout on the Madison River...........catch and release of course :o)

Harmony vs. NyQuil

Fever? Check~~
Chills? Check~~
Aches? Check~~
Headache? Check like a knife~~
Cough? Check again~~
Sniffles? Check yes~~
Miserable? Double check~~
Wintertime? No check, so where the hell did this come from?? Triple profanity~~

       If I trace my steps backwards, I know at what point I cursed myself with forthcoming sickness. I did the ultimate kiss of sickness move, I bragged that I hadn't been sick in "longer then I can remember" ha ha ha........gotcha. I don't remember coming in contact with a single sick person, yet those words passed by my lips instantly cursing my health. There was no wood to knock on around and as soon as it came out my mouth I knew I was toast. That was a mere week ago talking to a coworker.

       Some may be wondering why if I feel so bad, I would be online typing. Well, I'll tell you why. I am currently suffering the consequences of NyQuil overdose. So much for that snappy little jingle, you know the one, stop sniffles, coughs, chills, fevers blah blah blah so you can rest medicine.........Evidently, if you take a wee bit too much, because your thinking you feel a whole lot of horrible, therefore possibly requiring a bit "extra" medicine to make sure and reinforce your recovery, you will be miserable. I have the shakes. I absolutely cannot sleep. What a grand thing this has become today........

       I know, I know, I asked for such punishment by not exactly following the directions, but tell that to an irrationally sick person. I'm desperate for relief.

       Anyhow....I'm not really here to simply whine my misery away. I'm here with a point, or thought, or musing thats been cruising through my fever fried brain today.

       A friend had wrote me, and from her thoughts she had questioned the concept of harmony in peoples lives. My knee jerk response to the word or concept of harmony is that it's another one of those illusionary words, emotions, that people strive for all of their lives. Hope for, reach for, and sometimes even hold onto, yet, it's another one of those things in life that you can only hold on to for so long before it slips out of your grasp again.

       So what exactly is harmony? Is it a feeling deep inside that a person acquires upon achieving a more realistic term like balance? Is harmony the feeling that fills one's spirit when all the inner demons and conflicts are finally put to rest? Or is harmony about all those delicate little threads that make up our family, our life, our friends, basically everything within our influence.....................

       I could tentatively say, I've felt the concept of harmony a few times in my life. But as life goes, things come along and toss a bowling ball at the pins of harmony and it's game over, new game card. Maybe I am a cynic, that doesn't believe harmony is something that can be maintained at a constant rate. Or maybe I'm more the realist, who expects the unexpected and if I have 5 pins of my harmony still standing, I feel pretty good.

       I understand everyone is different, and look at things individually. So maybe my idea's are out in the gutter lane of this concept, but I don't put a lot of energy into finding harmony in my life. I tend to focus more on balance. Balance and harmony could walk hand in hand, but to me, balance seems a more tangible goal rather then the fleeting feelings of harmony in my life.....................

       Now, I'm off to lay my head down on a pillow and hope for some nice harmony and balance to be found quickly with that darling NyQuil and it's unbalanced proportions!

How Late Is It?

    I know I mention from time to time in my journal that I suffer from the irritating affliction called insomnia. One of my strict rules during insomnia is "do not get up and start writing," especially on the computer. Tonight I've decided to break my own rule because I haven't even been able to fall asleep yet.

       I implemented the rule because to actually remove myself from bed and get involved in anything at all, is really the sleeping kiss of death. Sleep won't come for hours now. But a person can only lay there for so many hours before all the opposing teams in my mind throw in the towel and give in to the mother of sleep robbery, insomnia.

       I realized on my 10 day sabbatical, insomnia finally took a rest. I slept through every night. It was glorious. It was amazing. It was precious. It was very much needed. A magical combination that spooked the insomnia away for many days. I wish I had that magic back. Perhaps, I left my sleeping card back in Montana, along with the others things I left there.

       Those days went by far to quickly and I've tried to cling to the emotions, feelings, essence I captured while I was away. A priceless week that time played many tricks on me. At one moment, time felt like it stood still, other moments it was flying by faster then I could hold the hands that were spinning around a clock. I had amazing high points and incredible low points. But for the most part, it was a steady stream of wonderful that I wish I could do over again and again............

    To much thinking feeds the insomnia monster, so off I go to count sheep, hymn a tune, and quiet the beast.............Thinking about flyfishing under the full moon in Montana, the sense of peace that fell upon my thoughts, the touch of freedom that tempted me with possibilities.

Now, I'm feeling all warm and cozy again

<cheshire smile>

Diversity

       Coming to terms with the conflict is always an interesting mission for me. When I find myself stuck out on a precarious branch of my tree of life, I have two choices, keep sliding out to the edge, where it could break off, or slowly and carefully backtrack to the core and stronger parts of my tree. It can be a sweet mistake to push the limits and try making it too those tiny little branches that look so appealing. Lately, I've been pushing the strength of my tiny little branches. Testing their durability, seeing if they are really ready for full force contact. I had to see if they had become strong enough to take my entire weight on. But with the cracking and snapping I've been hearing, I regret, they aren't ready to support me in total.

       There's something sexy about placing trust in oneself and facing fear head on without regard to possible backlash. I can curve around the branches and accept the cause and effect, I'm comfortable with that. I'll accept the hideous along with the rewards, it's always a risk I'm willing to stumble or glide through. What goes up, must come down, so says the wisdom. And with the down comes the rebound and the circle illuminates itself just in time for another climb of the branches. I know this tree, I know what it's capable of, and I place my trust in it. Sometimes, I even climb down from my tree and quietly swing from the tire swing I hung from it awhile ago. It's a good place to go when I need some quiet time without influence....................

       I believe enough time has passed by, that I can bring this up without anyone touching or finding the specifics. I read a "review" from a person about my journal a while ago. Stumbled across it actually and found myself in awe and contemplation of the persons words. It said "**Removed because of my ignorance on the tricky world of the internet, the comment could be found and the exact wording really had no bearing on my topic other then the person said they no longer read my journal because they were usually lost, no ill intention meant at all" The reason I bring that review into my journal now <and yes a bit of time has passed and it's not a big deal, but I haven't forgotten it> is that I can understand why this person would think as such. I am all over the place for the majority of the time. For me writing is about cleansing. Writing is about expression and writing is about unleashing that which is within. It is that which I appreciate most about writing in a journal. No rules, no expectations and no guidelines. I suppose if I found such reviews all over the place about my journal, I would slink completely into the private world again with my thoughts. But I feel, the majority of the time, people who frequent my journal expect the unexpected, understand the eclectic and appreciate the diversity.

       Diversity is something I marveled at today as I meandered around Journal Land. I ran across several beautiful written pieces by others and I can't help but marvel at the ability many have of "putting ourselves" out "there" for pubic consumption. I ran across humorous entries that I found myself laughing out loud at, and entries that humbled me appropriately. Maybe bringing up that review is my way of saying, that yes, sometimes I am all over the place, but that is my thoughts and world, and this is my comfort zone to sift through and mediate what is given and what is taken. I was writing about give and take with another journaler from our community. I believe we established it really is about give and take, take and give. I write the thoughts.......thus giving.......and in return I receive the comments, thus me taking. And when I visit other journals it is just the opposite.......I believe we all walk a delicate and intricate balance of trust given freely, because I believe only through trust can we expose ourselves through writing as we sometimes do.

Pick An Expression

       There are time's, when I feel most humbled, honored and frankly astounded by the response some of my entries receive. Honestly, that last humdinger almost hit the floor with one swipe of a delete button, yet, I didn't do that, and posted the despicable thing. And with the swipe of the save button in return I received and received..............

       Through your comments I discovered I wasn't the only one who had felt such ways.
Everyone liked Pauls Aurora Walking Vacation comment........simple and stated "Sounds to me like you're human" and Hadonfield  The Hadonfield Myers Experience followed up by assuring me I wasn't a nut case. <thank you guys>  Everyone else left such heartfelt comments, and in reading them in total, there is much wisdom and assurance to be found. I wish I had the space to go through them individually here..........So I suggest, a reread of the comments left in my previous entry. Through my peek into one of my dark little levels, I think a few of us were able to admit something, no one really likes to both admit or think or even talk about...................

Until further notice, My writing is still on the moody dark side, reader beware..........
Gotta love a good exemption card that you and you alone can issue out.........
      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Laying the henchmen to bed for the night.
They are a brutish group, I must say.

But before I go. I will share a few snippets I wrote while I was driving around today.
Yes, I am one of those "people" a menace to society. A thought strolls through my head and I am forced to write it down at stop lights and sometimes, the light turns green and I'm not screeching off the line because I'm still writing..........would you honk at me?
Better then doing make-up though right?

They say there is nothing to fear, but fear itself.........
Maybe that is true, but then again maybe it's just the catalyst for excuses.
Excuses.....are they fear or doubt?

A barren canvas inside the thoughts
A woman's search for humble placement of comfort and peace.

If I could reach around and smack the laughing monkey on my back, I would indeed.
Sly little bastard.

Confessions of a mind that won't stop clinking with words...........


Pick an expression
Look at an idea
Move from within
Reach yourself

Thats a wrap.
Adios

T.A.L.K

 
       Charley from journal Courage once commented in one of my entries, that not believing in God wasn't the greatest sin, but rather despair was. I've thought about his comment quite a bit since then. Mulled it over and tossed it like a tennis ball around in my mind. Today, the full force of his words cracked me upside the head. You see, if that is true, then today I'm swimming in that well of despair. I've crossed my arms across my chest, turned my back to that well and ever so gracefully fell backwards into it. Today, if Charley is right, I am a gracious sinner.

       So when I'm backstroking through the murky waters of despair, I shut down, move into what I'll kindly refer to as my mute mode and skinny dip for a while. Thankfully, I always find a way to write when I'm down here. It is also the time, when I have a rather difficult time absorbing the world around me. For that, I must mention, I'm currently struggling visiting others journals. Temporary focus on what I'm dealing with on hand is required right now and I have a difficult time reading others journals without needing to absorb all that is being said by the writer. My cup is alittle full right now, thats all. For that, I must ask for a pardon, and promise I will be by to visit very soon............      
      
       I'm am curious though. In which input is greatly needed, perspective of sorts, and the ever present seeker of information that I am, here goes...........

       Ladies this is probably primarily in your court. Here's my admission.
And I'm looking for confirmation or separation.

I, Rebecca Anne, am ruthlessly hard on myself.
I, Rebecca Anne, cling and covet that which is black in my life.
Storing it in the reserves, using bad choices, past mistakes, etc., etc., to pull out whenever I fell the need to beat the shit out of myself.
I, Rebecca Anne, harbor ill feelings towards myself at times.
I, Rebecca Anne, can't sleep at nights because my mind never gives me a break.
I, Rebecca Anne, strive for the good, enjoy and lust for the good in life,
yet too easily let one or many more of the negatives steal from all the positive.

       Although that looks absolutely hideous spelled out in words, they are thoughts inside regardless. So I wonder at times, if I am truly in a ballgame with myself and myself alone, or do others feel as ruthless and alone with themselves at times as I do?

       Do woman inherently whip the crap out of themselves over both the little things and the big things, or am I just the dynamic form who takes the negative and works on them, tosses them around, envisioning the solutions, working the problems until there is no taste left? What's worse, is that under most typical and normal circumstances, is that I NEVER speak of such worries, issues, feelings, thoughts, sentences, words. I may whip up something for my journal, I'll tap dance all around certain issues, yet, you'd never know a specific "issue" because thats the way I do things.

       The people in my life who should know what I'm up too, or thinking, never have a clue. First off, I'm quite the actor. Everything is always the deplorable "fine"........The kiss of death sentence, yet, I get away with it 99% of the time. The people I want to discuss personal issues with, well, truthfully, making myself actually talk out loud is like pulling a fingernail off slowly and torturously, again, a battle with myself and myself alone. Somehow, some where along the line of life and someday I may explore specifically this issue in an entry, I lost the ability to open up and T.A.L.K.
T ~torture session
A ~ambivalent battle within
L~latent sounds
K~kneel for understanding of my silence.

       Now, before I give off the impression of being some mute basket case who can't speak two coherent words, obviously I have a successful business, I feel like I'm a good mother, I have many friends.......My report cards, when I was in school, my Mother always laughed and tsk tsked me for. They were always the same thing........Straight A's and the comment section always said the same thing. "Rebecca is a distraction in class, she is constantly visiting with her friends and although this has not effected her grades, I'm afraid it is effecting the other students~~~please tell her to shut up :o) So what I'm talking about it anything that points a spotlight directly at myself personally, that is where the mutant vocal cord restraint takes over.........

       Natural occurrence with varying degree's of affliction? You tell me, I can't imagine I'm the only one affected by the vocal cord stealer. Or, am I?????? Is it in our woman gender code to be overly hard on ourselves to the point of ridiculous? Does others worries and illuminations keep them up at nights sometimes? Do I just need some prozac? Dancing in the graveyard of mutany is a blessed place to be, it lets your mind do all sorts of tricks to your world. Or is this just the cliche of a tortured creative souls mind and workings? I have my guesses, my assumptions, and yet, I'm as clueless as the next person....................a curious mind wants to know~~~

       Smile, it's does a mind good.............

       Believe me.............

Deposit

       All right, I've done one of those out of left field, mind deposits, on my previous entry. For curious minds, for every one mind deposit of random sentences entries, there are 5 more that are typed and never posted or whisked away to a private online journal. Sometimes, the concept of personally grasping that the "public" reception of such outlandish mind deposits is tough for me.

       Obviously there is something I struggle with in my life. Without stating the obvious, it has to do with division of placement. Who's world do I belong in, invitations to step across the line, possibilities and such........crafty hints of letters strung together without typing the core. Thats me, although, in this world, with the given tools of computer, blank page, and typing abilities, I can reveal more then I'd ever say out loud to anyone in my personal reality. Anonymous voice, that is what the journal is too me.

       I'm 33 and for 22 years I'd been writing, silently, without input, without observation, without revealing to anyone other then myself. Now, when your a quiet soul, like myself, that can be quite the lonely world. An existence of emotions and thoughts, concepts and struggles, the good the bad and the atrocious. When you flutter around in La La land as I will not deny, I frequently do, if someone like me doesn't let a bit out every once in a while, well..........I'll let the mind imagine there what that does to a person like me, who obviously likes to write, contemplate, ruminate and generally chew things around until I can't take it anymore.

       I regret that I missed Judith Heartsongs essay contest on why I journal. Although I doubt I would have wrote anything different then all the other entrants, it would have clarified a few things.

       I'm outside right now, under the moon of Idaho sky. The air is thick warm, with a whisp of breeze. There are a few little bugs keeping me company on my laptop screen and I feel better now. I can hear dry lightning storms in the distance, and it's beautiful out. These are also the times, that are the hardest for me.

       When I was younger, and didn't know how to control my emotions, I would take a night like tonight, muddled up with emotions that are ready to implode and I would run. I would drive to the nearest mountain, walk to the top in the dark of night and run down. Insane I know, but it was my source of release. Sometimes it feels good to add a touch of insane to the mundane. Take the risks and toss in some controlled and out of control concepts and it spells a recipe of a person who's never content to settle.

       I've heard settling isn't such a horrible concept. Yet, when I step onto the platform of settlement, I recoil like there's no tomorrow. I know this could also be a recipe for a life of discontentment, but I like to think of it as a life as always reaching for higher ground. Do not be mistaken, this isn't about money, material things, status, house and just about anything else that falls into the keeping up with the Jones column. No, my desires circle around things like Motherhood, Love, self movement, exploration, and connection of sorts. The Jones stuff, is too easy. Want more things, well opportunity is sitting at just about every corner, you only have to reach out and grab hold of it. I did it. I went from poverty to the other side with hard work and changes. So for me, those changes seem easy enough. What I'm always struggling with is those intangible things, the things you feel within. The concourse of life that sometimes I coast along at a nice steady pace, and sometimes, I run down a hill just to fuck things up a bit.

       Ya, I said that word, but it was fitting, and it's my journal, and well, just and......I'm in a foul mood, so I'm using my exemption card. The obvious is my mystery. The obvious is my burden to understand and do right by. Do right. I like that. The concept of doing right by yourself and others is a beautiful thing. That is what I wish, always, is that I did right by people. Especially those, who have done exactly that for me. The concept isn't that far of a reach, it's simple, it's divine, it's tough as hell sometimes. Especially when one's decision, effects so many other counterparts. Butterfly effect, flutter a wing here and someone feels it down the lane. Flutter a wing tonight and it carries on the wind to the East. Sometimes, I flutter hard enough, that I believe my effect can carry between boundaries, across choices and through to the future.

Contemptuous

       Step right up folks, thats right it's time to enter the freak zone. One and two, three and four, stand to the right, lay to the left. Front and center. Five. I'll be right there in the heat of the spotlight..... Clown paint dripping down the face and hearing the party of dreams. Hmm interesting, dreams minus a D, add a S and you get screams. Fitting, twist of letters.

        All I hear today is the merry go round notes. Driving my circles, forgot my purpose tonight. I've had enough damn fun, I want, six, off this ride.

       Step to the door, and click goes the junction. Lascivious maneuver I'll have to ruminate. Standing in my space of speculation. I see, this isn't going to be easy to absorb.

       I shouldn't dare write now, for my mind feels like an amusement park gone atrocious. Up and done, one and two, step right up, buy a ticket for the show. The fun just stopped, quick look back inside. Hold on now, there may be absolution.

       I'll try a different ride, spendy tickets, but I'll give it a whirl.............

       My violence is here, the wicked and the ugly. Issues of the questions that I have no answer for. And if I asked you, if you still see the beauty from within me I'm afraid I wouldn't hear anything but no.
      
       When you ask the questions and feel the silence take hold of my voice, you can't see the battle within, although, I wish I could show you. For the answers do not produce the solution I need.

       I imagine you like the way I smile, but bear witness to my quiet nature. To show my weaknesses and never try to hide them, is for a person with more courage then I.  I'd like to think, you know me better then that. Now, a witness to my atonement, is needed.

       I'm in this race, alone and visionary, with my eye's on the wonderful. You and you alone understand yet, claim confusion with the division of distance. I turned my back, so long ago, believing it was my decision to be free, and realized the choice became my shadow of regret. You've earned esteemed exemption and I mourn my loss. Forgiveness came so easily for you. Can one person stand in such glorification and patience, can this really be possible? Did you think I would forgive myself that easily? I'm far too much of a bitch to myself to attempt such a selfish thing.

       What a sad little sideshow I've become. Do you know who I am today? I promise I will wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow somewhere is laughing at the distinction. Do you know who I am? The mesmerizing entity of comme il faut fears. Waiting for tomorrow and touching the hands of the clock is my nemesis and crutch. The crash of March and the stumble of July, is somewhere to be caught by confusion and need...................................

And this is where you step off the ride and I stay on and on....round and round I go, where I end, no body knows...................