Notes from the Red Bird House

Long ago while going through my roughest break up ever, a friend told me that my ex would eventually come back but, when she did, 'the box would be closed'. It was his way of saying that time heals all. And it does. Slowly my feelings for her subsided and 'my box' officially closed. Oh, she never came back, but in time that ceased to matter to me. My friend could have used any analogy -  a closed door, a sailed ship, a burnt bridge (I think he used a box because we worked together in the receiving department of a large retailer). They all mean the same thing. Time passes and takes the hurt with it. I have to say his words have helped add perspective several times over the years following unwanted or unexpected changes. I've learned to allow myself the sting, but I don't wallow in it. I push through it. I know that the sooner I can break the habit (a term a friend used just yesterday) of that person, place, or thing that is no longer with me, the sooner my box

Yesterday I inadvertently stepped in a mud puddle reaching for a hose so a friend could have a drink. I sunk into the puddle and my shoe filled with mud. I guess in the back of my mind I knew it could happen and that's why I volunteered to get the hose in the first place. Friends don't let friends traipse through the mud. Especially when you're me and that friend is straight and female or lesbian and femme. It's not that I think I'm going to score 'points' and eventually get laid or anything (Women don't hand out tickets that you can cash in for prizes like at Dave and Busters). You see, my parents not only raised me to be polite and have good manners, they also taught me to take up for those who can't take up for themselves. I extrapolated this to include those who will whine and cry and complain if they have to take up for themselves. As a result, I'm chivalrous and end up stepping in a lot of mud puddles. I publicly stated last night via Fac

I have good intuition. Mostly this intuition is about people and their actions and how those actions may relate to me. I've caught girlfriends cheating and friends lying. Suffice it to say that I know what I know. Very often I have no idea how I know, just that I do. I've thought long and hard about where my intuition comes from. I've had it since I was a kid. My mom always said I had good common sense and seemed to think that may have helped with my intuition. Growing up, I'd get feelings about people and places. In most instances, time proved me right. My mom got used to me 'just not liking someone' and learned to give me space. Of course, she always encouraged me to keep an open mind, which I became quite good at. I've never held my intuitions against anyone and I usually hope against hope that I'm somehow wrong. I really and truly want to think the best of people. It's just that some people turn out to not be worth that faith. I do, however, pr

Because he will forever be a part of my consciousness.... RIP Armando. ~ 'We all live. We all die But the end is not goodbye The sun comes up, and seasons change But through it all, love remains.' ~ From Collin Raye, "Love Remains" I know what I know and I believe what I believe. And I have to. I just have to. I can't go through life thinking that The End is the end, that there's is nothing beyond this life. I can't live in fear of dying, of no longer living. I can't live knowing that my soul is mortal, no better than flesh. I must believe this for me. And this week I learned that I must believe this for Armando. And everyone else, I guess. I am very lucky to be a stranger to death. I lost all my grandparents by the time I was thirteen and we lived so far away that their deaths didn't impact me that much at all. My mother told me that my grandmother was above the clouds in Heaven and I assumed in my early childhood notions tha

I officially submitted my grad school application to St. Edwards University yesterday. Truly, I feel better about my application (even though I could never get the essay to format right) than I do my ability to succeed amid the academic bullshit that will inevitably threaten to take over my life. Once upon a time, I was good student. Of course once upon a time, I could tolerate inordinate amounts of bullshit. Unfortunately, twenty years in the 'real world' has done little to improve my opinion of academia and it's view of how things work in said 'real world'. I promise you, this go-round I'm going to call Likert scales (you know, 'on a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being totally sucky and 5 being way cool, how would you rate blah-blah-blah...') by their 'real' name - Bull Fucking Shit. I wish the folks at St. Edwards luck. Let's just hope they don't read this blog before accepting me. When I went to grad school for the first time back in 1992, I w

'I love my husband', she said. 'I know.' 'But...', she said. 'I know.'

I was tempted to go. I was. Very. I could have dropped everything I had planned, run the risk of being late for work, and gone. Then suddenly, I decided no. I wasn't going to allow myself to allow someone to make me jump. Drop everything? My run? Shaving my legs? Being on time for work? That's not what I do. I don't drop everything for someone. Anymore. God knows I used to. They said, 'Jump! I said, 'How high?' Then I changed. For the better, I think. But dammit, I wanted to. I miss her and would have loved to spend her lunch hour with her. It's all very irrational, how I miss her. The fact is I'm not supposed to. I'm not. I mean maybe after a week or two, but certainly not after less than forty-eight hours. Yet I miss her. Rationally I attribute it to time spent. She and I usually spend every afternoon/evening that I'm off together. In this way, she's become a habit for me and I feel like something is missing when we don't hang out. Wh

At the moment, I'm off the grid and happy.This morning as I was driving to work, I kept thinking that if I could just survive until 5:00, I'd be ok. I've needed a little time just for me and something about today's schedule told me that tonight might be a good night. I would be off too late to hang out with a friend, yet early enough to enjoy the evening. I call that a perfect night for grid jumping. Then I got off work two hours early. I very nearly planned myself back onto the grid, but talked myself out of it. Go see a friend. Go to the gym. Go to HEB. Run. I said NO to all of it because not only do I need some time off the grid, but I also need some time to do absolutely nothing (except write apparently). I've been burning it at both ends for awhile now. Between work and friends and working out and writing, I've had little time just to be. I need that time. NEED IT. Even though I'm always doing, moving, and going, I never seem to accomplish much. Usu

I'm pretty sure she'd love it if I'd stop writing about her. It's just that early May was once hers and so it stays. One day I'll tell the whole story because it's actually pretty cool. Minus names, of course, minus names. 1. One day we couldn't stop kissing so we kissed for two hours leaning against her front door jam. I can't remember if we ever shut the door. 2. My favorite time of day was the first nine minutes...right after the alarm went off and she hit snooze. 3. I said 'I love you' on Day 3. At Naughty's Bar in Muskegon, Michigan. While wearing a lavender sweater.  Don't ask me how I remember this. 4. I slept with her on our first date (not sure if my mom even knows that). 5. She was known as '31' to my friends for months before I ever knew her name because of a t-shirt she used to wear to the gym. 31 is still my lucky number. 6. Thank God for the gullible gym worker who once upon a time showed me her membersh

I'm tired of being told that I need to eat a cheeseburger. It's people's way of telling me that I'm 'too thin'. Certainly this is by their standards. Which are set when they look in the mirror. Trust me, no one thinner than me has ever told me I needed a cheeseburger or to back off the Diet Coke. These words come exclusively from individuals few sizes larger than me. I'm amazed at what people think they can say to me just because I'm fit and thin. Last week I felt bullied by a 'friend' about my appearance. What I was wearing was wrong and too revealing, I was too thin, I looked like a lesbian. Oh, and my flip flops were too old and worn out. Let me reassure everyone out there, none of the above were true that day. I was wearing baggy-ish jeans, a dark brown spaghetti strap tank top, my aviator sunglasses, and my favorite old flip flops. For whatever the reason my 'friend' felt like she could take aim at me. I've since learned that

'Just because something didn't last forever doesn't mean it wasn't meant to be.' ~ Stacee Harris Tonight I'm celebrating ten years of Amazing Grace. I've often wondered what God intends, if anything at all. In other words, is this my path or His? Most of the time I choose to believe that it's mine, that everything that I am is the direct result of my choices and that He is just here for moral support. Then I think about May 8, 2002 and I'm not so certain. I know that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. I also know that I am here because of what happened on the night of May 8, 2002. If not for that night, I don't know where I'd be today. Would I be in Austin, in Texas? Would I have lived in Texarkana? Would I work for The World's Largest Home Improvement Retailer? Would I have met my Soul Friends or my PL (Platonic Love)?  Would I write? Would I have the purpose I have? Would I have experienced Heaven and Hell and found God?

'Jesse's got himself a girl and I wanna make her mine.' ~ from 'Jesse's Girl' by Rick Springfield It's not that I have anything against Jesse. Or any other guy for that matter. I like guys. I just don't like them. Ok, I'm not a fan of egotistical, know-it-all, douche bags. Or cheating, heart breaking scumbags. I have many, many guy friends and I often prefer them to my female friends. They are more direct and talk about things that actually interest me, like sports and women. Because I have an ethic, I may not want Jesse's girl, but I sure do want the girl who wants Jesse. I like straight-ish and bisexual women. So. Sue. Me. Go ahead. What's more? I like them emotionally messy. Which I think is requisite for these types of women so it works out super well for me. I get finite attention and fun (need we call it a 'Rodeo'?). She gets the same. With a woman. The beauty of this set-up is that I know with every absolute fiber of my

Juliet, as distant as the forgotten melody of a nearly forgotten love song, rose and stretched. She was there. Here. I am here, she thought. Where are you? Where? Once upon a time she knew. Everything was evident. And then it wasn't. Without a word, he was gone and she was left to wonder. He was somewhere, as distant as the forgotten melody of a nearly forgotten love song. Romeo rose and stretched. I am here. Here. Where are you?, he thought. Once upon time he knew. She was everything. Then she wasn't. Without a word, she was gone and he was left to wonder. One word could have changed everything. Spoken by him or by her. Don't. Yes. Stay. Please. The word didn't matter, really, just that fact that someone was courageous enough to say it.