February made me shiver

FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but thoes not show it. Dislike unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizing dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside.Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions

Awakening (more sudden than rude), Asleep (more restless than deep)

All for comfort and worry. COMFORT. WORRY. Do they both exist on parallel planes? CAN they both exist on parallel planes?I'm hitting a brick wall. I'm running straight into it, through it, with energy unsurpassed. I was sitting, listening hard. There was noise all around, but it was not noise. It was confusion. It was empty sound. It meant nothing. As the world spun around me, I was 100% focused, narrowed even.

Things change. Attitudes, actions - they all change.

I came to such a stark, candid realization yesterday. This is something that has been so incredibly long in the works, but I came to my end yesterday realizing all of my actions, my words, my thoughts, my motivations, my attitudes... they've all been so fettered - that is, fettered to this crazy idea that I have to please everyone, that I can't say no, that... well, sometimes to no idea at all. Sometimes they are blank, empty, hollow. Sometimes it's as though it's not even me.

God still bothers with me, and why? I strive to be a servant of Christ but I seldom strive with any great vigor. I strive to strive. I want to want. I desire to desire.

My life must mean something. It has to in the end. What will my life count for? More importantly, what will my earthly end count for? I don't know why I do some of the things that I do. I ruin my testimony. I speak from both sides of my mouth. I love my savior, but not enough to quit pushing him away. I'm like a 2 year-old. It's amazing.

Fearing the most, dodging the least

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,
and covered with a perfect shell,
such a charming beautiful exterior.
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
and perfect posture, but you're barely scraping by.

This is one time
that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all.
And the grave that you refuse to leave,
the refuge that you've built to flee,
the places you have come to fear the most.

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,
and hidden in the public eye.
Such a stellar monument to loneliness.
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
and perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by.
And you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all.
And the grave that you refuse to leave,
the refuge that you've built to flee,
the places you have come to fear the most.

*** I was singing this en la manana. I'm continuously fascinated by how quickly things change. In an instant, the blinking of an eye, the flipping of a switch, the... the... something else that's really, really fast. I dunno. This isn't going to make sense today. I almost don't want it to make sense. In my life, right now, when everything else (almost) seems to be making sense, I don't want this to make sense because I don't necessarily feel like putting the effort into making it make sense. Does that make sense?*sigh*

Tomorrow is Friday. FRIDAY. VERDES. Wow. This week has gone by rather swiftly

Spread your seed, use Viagra

I have been receiving spam mail at an increasingly rapid rate these days. All of them declare stunning promises of a larger penis, a prolonged erection, a stronger sexual drive... or sometimes just a lower mortgage rate. I received a message in my inbox with this subject title (Spread your see, use Viagra) and I think it has become my favorite. It made me, quite literally, laugh out loud. So it's sticking around for awhile. I wish that they knew I don't have a penis.

It was a glorious weekend in and about the District. I got to see KHart on Saturday night as he was finishing up his double shift at Tunni's. It's great to have a third place, let me say. Tunni's was my third place while I was living in DC and that comes with residual benefits. Knowing the owners, the managers, most of the wait and bar staff... conclusion? I go and hang out for several hours, gourging myself on delicious food and endless drinks and only pay $4. It was grand, indeed.

Sunday, I met Church boy Nathan for breakfast and church. It was a good time. A really good time, in fact. I think we got a lot of issues cleared up which is always nice. I'm looking forward to the direction that our friendship will take from here. It's good not to suffer anxiety about these sorts of things.

This is an incredibly dull blog. I'm ending it now. Cheerio.

My other ride is your mom

We had a fantastic storm here in Jersey City last night. Absolutely fantastic. I was walking back to the office from the bank and was wearing my favorite black skirt that I live in these days (black circle skirt with black flip flops, tank top, and a braid - it's the best ensemble on the planet) and had to hold on to it for dear life as the gusts of wind tickled my knees and threatened to relieve me of the skirt entirely. I laughed. The guy sitting in his car at the light gawked, hoping for a show, I'm sure.

I want to go fishing. I haven't been since I was about 7 years old. Dad used to take JC and I out on his friend's boat. Deep-sea, baby. His friend was an ass. His name was Mr. Prekosky, or Peroski, or something I don't remember. He was definitely an ass though. I left my brand-new sneakers at the dock one time that we went. They were pound puppy sneakers. They were the bright and shining item in my life at the moment - they DEFINED my life at that very moment and I went ahead and left them on the dock. I'm not sure how I got home like that, my shoelessness escaping the notice of my father. It wouldn't have happened if Mom were there. Moms notice that sort of thing. They notice when your pound puppy sneakers are missing. At any rate, my buddy Rob has been taking out the boat recently and fishing for striper bass. Apparently this is very good fish. I wouldn't know. I've been wanting to go out on the boat all week but it hasn't panned out. I'm so clueless when it comes to these things. I'm no fisherman. I don't know my ass from my elbow when it comes to these things, but it just seems like the appropriate time to fish. And seems sort of pleasant. Fish guts and Pabst blue ribbon - so nice.

I'm ready for Friday. I long for Friday. I'm definitely going to DC this weekend. Can't get out of this one. It's Brandon's birthday and he is aching to get out of town. So we're going to DC. Not sure what we're doing, not even sure where we'll stay - but we'll have a raging good time, I'm certain of it. Perhaps see Dr. Brian and his pooch, Isaac again.

Help me out - I'm trying to think up a joke involving a toothbrush and non-dairy creamer. It's near impossible.

Bumbie's Mom

I killed Bumbie’s mom last night. Well, I didn’t kill her with my own two hands or anything quite that grotesque. Actually, I didn’t really kill her at all. It was my brother, JC. He didn’t do it on purpose, it was all an accident. A big, fat, juicy, horrible accident. Coterminously, he killed Bumbie as well. Alright – enough with the Bumbie bit. If you have never been hooked on Animaniacs like I was, then you won’t get it. So forgive me.

JC somehow convinced Kelly and I to go out with him last night and look at a car that he planned on purchasing. A real “fixer-upper” and a steal at $500. we looked at the car, it was fine. A ton of work had already been done on it. The interior was mint and the outside was all prepped for a new paintjob. The body was immaculate. JC was jazzed. Pretty jazzed, if I do say so myself. We floated most of the way home in good spirits. JC was playing his favorite song on the hi-fi.

As we motored home, a deer (bumbie’s mom) ventured out into the dangerous road as JC was veering through each curve like a skilled driver, one of those guys who drives for the Acura commercials, on a closed course and whatnot. Anyway, he was maneuvering the Volkswagen through each curve when the deer decided to cross his path. Squealing of tires, screaming, the car turned this way sharply, then that way even more sharply and then we made contact. The deer flew, flew hard. She flew FAR. She could have made the cut for one of Santa’s 8 the way she was flying. Goo and other not-so-pleasant-deer-innards sprayed everywhere. Our windows were open. All of them. Poor JC. His car is pretty banged up. Bumbie and his mom were dead and quite dead (respectively) on the side of the road. I couldn’t open my door. So I waited. I waited while JC kicked the side of the car and screamed in frustration as (I’m sure) he thought of how he had just planned to sell this car and now he couldn’t. I waited as one, no two cars stopped and offered help (?). One man offered to call the police. JC yelled at him. Kelly made him apologize and say thanks for stopping. All this excitement going on and all I could was sit there in the car and WAIT. Pretty irritating if you ask me.

So we finished the rest of our journey home where we dug up a flashlight. We took a few minutes to inspect the damage, all of us crouched down on the ground, squinting, waving the smoke from our eyes (yes, the car was smoking. It was amazing). We had to pry the hood open with a crow bar. It was fascinating. I finally grew tired of inspecting the damage and went inside to blow my nose. Damn allergy season.

I feel really bad for JC, but there’s not a thing that I can do for him at this point except price parts on ebay and see if I can find him a real steal. Hopefully, he’ll be able to repair the damage for just around $1K. He can do all the labor himself, it’s just about finding parts. *sigh*

Poor Bumbie. Poor Bumbie’s mom.

I loved me madly, deeply even

Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy… and I think I might go for a walk outside now, the summer sun – he’s calling my name…you are the sunshine of my life…my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey

Ok, enough of that. A bit cheesy? Perhaps. But it’s been keeping me entertained. I’m in my car constantly, forever, until the end of time it seems and I sing. Oh, do I sing! I sing unabashedly and as loud as my lungs can voluminate! The sunshine pouring through the sunroof, touching my face, my ear – entering my ear, shining straight through my brain and burning the imprint of its presence into my very being – I’ve been singing ever since!

This has been a good, strong week weather-wise; plenty of strong contrasts and imaginative imagery. God is good for that sort of thing, and for this I’m grateful. The days have been warm with titan sunbeams and wispy breezes that tickle every fringe of greenery along their way. All this highlighted by midnight storms featuring the rumbling thunder of Thor and huge, fat raindrops – strong winds and lightning that is not too harsh… the thunder strikes, shakes, trembles the grounds and the lightning follows (or precedes?), laughing gently on the clouds, illuminating tree tops and hillsides in the pitch, dark night. I missed such a storm last night – I was sleeping (ba! What a waste)!

I’m at work today. I had thoughts of (once again) tripping down to DC and spending some time in the sun, on the national mall, perhaps then heading out to the Eastern Shore to visit Dr. Brian and his pooch Isaac. I then remembered: this Sunday is Mother’s Day. Hmmm… she would have been crushed.

So what am I doing for my special lady? I’m not sure yet. I should probably get to work on that relatively soon though, eh? Thank goodness it’s Friday. For real.

Vitamin L

I had such great plans this weekend, yes such great plans. I'm slightly disappointed, but not completely. I still had such a great weekend. It's difficult to decide whether or not I would trade it for the weekend I originally had planned. Circumstances come and go, things happen that we don't expect, and who can really trade that? This is life. This is experience. This is the story that I'll tell my grandchildren later (bless the grandchildren, bless their hearts). Who can exchange this? Not I. So that settles it then. I wouldn't exchange it. DC will come another weekend. Dr. Brian will be another time.

So yes, that is the weekend I originally had planned. I was going to head down to the District Saturday morning and help Rinnie fix the computer at the old office and then trip around the DC metropolitain area for the rest of the day -- hello, how are you? Good to see you again. Gracious, your hair is getting long! Want to grab a drink? Let's eat Thai for dinner, etc. -- then I was going to spend the night in my old apartment or on campus, whichever was available, and head out to the Eastern Shore on Sunday afternoon, post church activities. It didn't quite happen this way, oh no, it did not.

Friday evening I was to be in the city for an engagement dinner - something I really had no desire to miss. It was for a good friend, former roommate, future lifelong pal (I can hope so anyway) and although I would be attending her wedding in about five weeks, I wanted to see her and her fiance - it had been awhile. That, and I had never really been invited to a dinner party. My evening to feel posh, jaded, protected, privileged. I would drink decent champagne, eat shrimp cocktail the size of my head, sit on the sofa and discuss things that I didn't understand or ever cared to understand. The appeal? eh, not quite sure. But I wanted to do it just the same. Mainly, I was going to see PB. I won't hilight the journey home I had from Manhattan or the difficulties thereof, even though they are oh so interesting.

Fast forward to 8:30 Saturday morning and fast forward the contents of my stomach, up my esophagus, and out my mouth (damn that shrimp cocktail). No need for further dilineation.

I remained in bed most of the day and I realized sometime around 2PM that I would most definitely NOT be driving anywhere, and most certainly not DC. Sadness, indeed. At 2PM I was doing a bit better, nausea wise, but was feeling quite stale and had no desire (or at least no great desire) to sit in the car for four hours to arrive in the district by 6PM. So I made the best of the situation. I took the dog out in the lawn along with my current read and enjoyed the sunshine that was. I went out to dinner with Bonny at 9PM. I accomplished little, but oh so much. It was glorious.

Yesterday Kelly came over and we busted out the maps and my Weird NJ book. We decided to go for a drive. It took us nearly an hour to get there. Where were we going? Nowhere, really. But it took us an hour to get there just the same. We cruised down Clinton Road. My leg was shaking. I wasn't stopping, no, not for anything. I didn't travel below 35 mph the entire road. Up, down, left, right - the curves and bends were extraordinary, rivaling Marilyn Monroe during her best years. Kelly grabbed the side handle for dear life and laughed in nervousness as I nearly went off the road. We had conquered Clinton Road. It was exactly 9 miles from end to end and we had conquered it. I needed a cigarette. I needed Chicago. Yes, you ARE my inspiration, Clinton Road - you're my bitch.

We then decided what needed to be done. We stopped at a local grocery store and bought the goods for making pizza. Oh, and chocolate syrup. That's always key for some reason. We went home and made pizza and drank beer and had ice-cream with fresh strawberries (and the fore-mentioned chocolate syrup). We watched Latino stand-up comedy and stayed up later than we should have.

It was a good weekend. It was a great weekend.