Notes from the Red Bird House

I have good intuition. Ok, so it's probably better than good. There are times that I just know. Sometimes I don't know what I know, not exactly anyway. I second guess myself and say "nuh-uh now way" a lot. Until I get coroboration. Coroboration comes in many forms - a statement, a social networking post, an email, note, text message - and always includes an ah-ha moment. For better or worse. Sometimes I learn good things. Other times... Yeah, other times. I'm happy to report that my latest burst of intuition and its subsequent corroboration turned out to be good news. First of all, I was relieved to know my intuition is still there and in good working order. I'm always relieved. I mean it's not like I intuit stuff every day. In the in-between times, when it's silent, I often wonder if the last time was the last time. Second of all, the outcome was a positive one, a much needed ray of sunshine since my last couple bouts of intution ended up being harb

A few short weeks ago, I was pretty sure I'd be able to drink my way through all of the non-flavored rum selections at the little liquor store by house before the end of the summer. I was averaging roughly two bottles a week and with summer being roughly twelve weeks long, I figured I could drink roughly twenty-four different bottles. Keep in mind it's a small neighborhood liquor store. It would take me more than a year to drink all of the rums at Specs, the Disneyland of liquor stores in the Austin. In any case, I'm only on my fifth bottle. Of course that's not counting the bottle of Sailor Jerry I started with or the bottle of Bacardi I made mojitos with a couple weekends ago. Okay, okay. I'm on Bottle #7. How do I make my choices? I probably should have started at the upper left and worked my way to the lower right. That, however, would have required forethought. And when I started this thing, I was trying very hard not to think. About anything. Not even rum. S

There are bells that can't be un-rung and stands we shouldn't back down from. Pain is not only for victims. Sometimes it is also for the 'victors'. Often no one wins, no one takes the cake, and no one comes out on top. Bridges burn and get rebuilt only to wash away. Fortresses protect, but they also destroy. Every once in awhile, though, the hopeless find hope. Courage trumps fear. And life goes on. No better or worse. Just one foot in front of the other. Like it or like it. No choice in the matter. Fake it or fake it. Until you make it.

She thought she climbed high enough. Thought they could never reach her. She'd taken the farthest path, the highest road. For days and weeks, it seemed, she trekked. The air grew thin, the horizon broadened. She stopped to take in the view. "Yes," she sighed, "I think I'll be fine here." Almost in that same moment, she noticed the arrow. Had that been there all along? Surely, she would have noticed it. And she would have known. Known she hadn't climbed high enough. She would have kept going. She wouldn't have stopped. And yet there it was. They had found her. She looked back at the path. Would she ever out run them? Would she ever find a place high enough? Doubt filled her soul. As turned to look back at the magnificent view one last time, she noticed it. Another tree, another arrow. She knew this would always be so. Climb higher or stand? She knew the answer. It was truly the only answer. The high road was the only road. She would climb as

The mindfuck. I originally wrote it as two words. Thank you, Urban Dictionary for correcting me. One word. No caps. Definition #1 - "an idea or concept that shakes one's previously held beliefs or assumptions about the nature of reality." Definition #2 - "To experience a situation which calls into question the way your mind currently sees a certain idea or the world in general. Such an experience usually leaves the person stunned/speechless while he/she begins wrapping his/her mind around the new idea." And Definition #3 - "Something that seriously fucks with your brain, such as watching Fight Club every night for a week. Trust me on this." Or having one of the people closest to you try to convince you that you are crazy. But I digress. Wait. No, I didn't digress. I sat down to write a blog/note about exactly that. For the past few months, I have been battered and beaten down by a steady stream of things that seriously fuck with my brain. And al

For the secret held  The passing days company  As the storm raged on.  Though peace would come soon  The gray clouds tumbled and tore While doubt filled the air.  Would the end arrive And a new beginning come? Would hope find it's way?  With fear tossed aside  Faith believed and hope reborn Life began again. 

There is something I need to write about. Actually it's more than one something. It might be a half a dozen. I'm not sure. I guess that's the problem. I'm unfocused and it's all blurring together. One something led to another and then to another. To write about one almost means I have to write about all. And I can't. Not now, maybe not ever. Drink more, find clarity? I spent several weeks living that one. Sure, I sampled a few really good rums and had just one raging hangover, but I can't say drinking solved anything. Fortunately, I wrote little and texted even less that I regretted the next day. Given my no-delete policy that could have gotten a bit dicey. Ok, so here's the thing - I'm mired in privacy issues. I can't talk. Which means I can't write. I can't. And really would I even if I could? I'm trying to find a way to be cryptic yet clear and I'm coming up empty. On all fronts. And I have...let's see...at least two. I

I've made a lot of difficult decisions recently. I hate change and decisions usually bring some kind of change. Suffice it to say that little in my world is the same. I still have the same physical address (that one was touch-and-go for awhile), cell phone number, and email address, but that's about it. Through this period of flux I've learned a valuable lesson - There is a time and a place for the status quo and there is a time and a place to fear less. I used to talk a good game about fearing less. It was how I'd decided to live my life. I would stand in my truth at all costs. I would brave the unknown. I moved to Austin, went back to grad school, started writing fiction, took up tennis again, dated, fell in love. And then the wheels fell off. I started living safe. I started fearing. I worried about everything and couldn't focus. I grew tired, lost my ambition. I began coasting at work and school and in my relationship. I found myself on my knees rather than

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog/note called "Ten Nevers". It was uncharacteristically negative and I almost immediately began writing its inverse. And then something happened. I stopped. I came up with two "Always" and gave up. Maybe I was tired or not in the mood. I found the draft tonight and decided I needed to put in a little more work. We'll see how it goes. 1. Always choose to fear less. I don't mean that you must be fearless. That's just stupid. Run into a snake bigger than you are? Being fearless is not the best choice. Fearing less allows you to step outside you comfort zone. Accept the dare. Take whatever fear you have and reduce it. You don't even need to be brave or courageous. You just have to fear a little less than usual. 2. Always listen to Michael Bolton when driving home drunk. There are those who believe you can't get a DUI when you do. Others say Celine Dion. And still others say Christmas music. Best way to avoid a DUI? A

Is it a "laundromat" or a "laundry mat"? I'm not sure. Maybe it's regional. So many things are. I don't suppose it really matters. Not to me anyway. I have a washer and dryer. A real nice set, actually. I bought them when I was out of debt. Paid cash. Wild, huh? Needless to say I'm not out of debt currently. But I digress. What was my point? Oh yeah, the laundromat/laundry mat. Even though I've never had to use one personally, I still have some great memories. Seriously, re-think what you've always thought. They aren't just for laundry. Two of the best dates of my life took place at a laundromat/laundry mat. Ok, what do you do when the woman you are seeing says she needs to do laundry so she can't get together? Call her bluff, if it is a bluff, and offer to go with her. I mean think about it. Laundry is better than a movie. Once you get the stuff in the machines all you have is time. Time to talk. Time to enjoy each other. Drinks ar

She pulled the car over to the side of the road. Dust swirled. She looked around before easing the door open. She stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. The sun was high in the sky. She held a hand up to shield her eyes. Squinting, she surveyed the landscape before her. I should have remembered my sunglasses , she thought.  You know the drill, Stella. You know it. To the east, west, north, and south, it was all familiar; she'd been here before. She left the car on the side of the road and strode across the highway. She didn't bother looking both ways. No one ever passed this way. She was alone and would stay that way until it was time to drive away. When would it be time? It was always different. Sometimes she stayed only a few minutes, other times it had taken a lot longer. This time, she feared, it might take awhile. She didn't dare imagine how long "awhile" might be. She found the bench and stretched out. One hand cradled her head, the other blocke

"Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug." ~ late night text from a friend To use that same friend's vernacular - Word. Today I was more than the bug. I was a swarm of gnats and the windshield was that of an exceptionally large 18 wheeler. It was a shitty day, certainly no shittier than many recent days, but shitty nonetheless. I hate saying that my life is shit, but it is. Shit. Plain and simple. I try very hard to see the positive, but it's really, really difficult right now. Lest everyone think I've gone completely negative, I'm still a glass-is-half-full person, it's just that the glass in question doesn't happen to be my glass. And I have no idea when it will be my glass. This isn't me. With rare exceptions, happiness comes easy to me. I guess this is one of those exceptions. I don't like it. I don't like being unhappy. In fact, I fucking hate it. To add insult to injury, I'm out of rum. Yes,

"Guess it's true. I'm not good at a one night stand..." This past weekend a friend told me that I needed a one night stand. I don't know if she was drunk or hungover at the time. The weekend is pretty much a blur. I do recall telling her that I needed many things, but a one night stand was not one of them. I've had one (ok, well... two...alright, three) and I am quite certain that I never need another one. I don't miss sex. I miss the fit. The love. The emotion. The knowing. I miss her. I can assure anyone who cares to ask that sex with some random someone isn't going to fix what needs fixing. I've tried in the past and it doesn't work. If anything, it'll make me miss her more. I don't miss the feeling, the orgasm. Hell, I can take care of that myself. I miss the feeling of her. Her. If it was just about sex, I'd have been over this long ago. "And deep down I know this never works..." Sometimes I wish it was jus

I've been hearing the word a lot and saying the word a lot. Transparent. It has many definitions. The one most people think of is probably  - "So sheer as to admit the passage of light". That's not the definition I've been thinking about. I guess it's all related, though. "Easily seen through, recognized, or detected" is what I'm talking about. "Manifest or obvious" would also work. This kind of transparent is how I want to live my life. I want to be easily seen through, recognized, detected, manifest, and obvious. I want people to know me, my integrity, and my honesty. I'm not saying this requires a big change. I've always been at least as honest as most people. It's just that recently I've seen a little of the flip side and I don't like it. In fact, I don't like it so much that I never want anyone around me to experience it. I believe that in relationships, if they are going to be deep, heartfelt, and/or trus

{I thought this was one of the blogs that got deleted about a month ago. Thankfully tonight I found it in my Hotmail "sent" messages. It wasn't lost! But is more than a month old} Recent events have dredged up some old memories and reminded me of a skill set that I possess. It's a skill I truly hope that I never have to use again. I'm good at liars. Not lying. Liars. I'm like a divining rod. Seriously. 'Trust until you can't.' I've always lived by those words. And I've gotten burned time after time. I've gotten lies for the sake of lying and lies when the truth would have been just as easy. I've asked for the truth and been told a lie. I'm not talking about 'Do you like my new shoes?' or 'How does my hair look?' Those little white lies don't mean a damn thing. Tell me whatever you want. No, I'm talking about big questions, like 'Where were you this weekend?' or 'Why didn't yo

Regardless, I stay on the high road. This says everything about who I am and who I want to be. It is my character. I will not sling mud. I will not call names. I will not block messages. I will not say anything negative about anyone I care about. Regardless how they treat me. My way is the way, the only way I know. I may write this with tears in my eyes, but I know. I KNOW that my way is the right way. I may swallow and hold it in. I may eat crow. I may suffer unfathomable hurts. Regardless, I'm going to take it. All of it. Everything. I will stand as strong as I can. And I will be nice. Because that speaks about me. Not them. Not any of them. I will stand above. On the high road. With tears running down my cheeks. And pain in my heart. Regardless, I will rise above. To the only place I know. To the only way I know.

I met her eight years ago in February 2006. The minute I saw her I knew she would be mine. I don't remember even taking her for a test drive. It didn't matter. I'd driven a friend's a few years before and I knew what I knew - The Nissan Xterra was my dream car and I was determined to have one. A friend told me I could get a good deal on the last remaining '05 at the Nissan dealership in Bossier City, Louisiana so to Bossier I went. I wasn't excited that she was burgundy; I would have preferred dark gray or olive green. Regardless, it was love at first sight. I still remember driving her home to Texarkana. It was then that I realized she didn't have cruise control. I didn't know cars were made without it. She didn't have any of the other bells and whistles either, but none of that mattered. She was mine. I thought about trading her in in '07 or '08. I still owed a bunch and would have gone upside down on whatever I replaced her with. Still I

I had a good day today. In all honesty, it was probably the best day I've had in over a month. Wait. It was absolutely the best day I've had in over a month. I smiled and laughed. And I wasn't faking it. I was genuinely happy. For a change. Some of it had to do with my co-workers. I work with some incredibly funny people who love me dearly. Some of it had to do with a certain friend who calms my soul and brings me happiness. Still more had to do with my determination and fortitude. What's more, I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I can't say I've done a whole lot of that recently.Regardless what the day brings, I'll wake up next to her. I'm fairly certain that there is only one person in the world who understands what that means to me. It's not sexual or sensual. Oh, she's amazing, beautiful, 'hot'. I'm not saying she's not. I appreciate all that in her, but in so many ways she is more. Spiritual? Comfortable? Both? If that'

"She'a fire and ice. She's a little crazy but it's nice..." She doesn't believe. She doesn't think she's beautiful, smart, or worthy. I know different. She is absolutely all of the above. Maybe she wasn't always. If we're being serious, I know for a fact, she's made some questionable decisions. Now, though, I find her changed. And funny, I feel vindicated. I believe people can change. I always knew she could. And I knew she would. "She's everything I want to do again..." Ssshh... She doesn't need to know that. You know how women freak out? Yeah, she might. And I need her. "She's every fantasy. She's ever lover that I've had..." Yes, she is. She's a lover I've had. She broke up with me and I let her. But damn, if she isn't the best cuddler ever. In some ways we are better now than we have ever been. Truth be told she is far more attractive for reasons I will never say outloud. Y

"My body aches to breathe your breath..." Once upon a time she was "31". iTunes just annoited her "Indiana". Last night I listened to a little "Mirrorball" by Sarah MacLachlan. Once upon a time, 31/Indiana and I had an amazing night that to that CD. Two and a half times on repeat, if memory serves.  I read her mind that night. Kids playing on a playground. She won't remember that part. I do. I also remember why "Possession" has special meaning for me. She and I weren't destined then and I doubt we are destined now. Well, not in the way I thought we were back in the day. Now I am "aunt" to her boys (which reminds me I need to get a birthday card TOMORROW!) and we have a secret we never imagined. We are closer than I ever thought possible. And we haven't slept together or said a romantic "I love you" in more than a decade. "Kiss you so hard, I'll take your breath away..." Once upon a t

I have to say that I've taken a lot of criticism over the years for my relationships. Some haven't liked that I date women. Others haven't liked my choice of women - too young, too old, too crazy, too boring, too ugly, too pretty, too straight, too gay, too dumb, too smart, too tall, too short. You get the idea. Still others haven't liked that I've dated married women. I have only one thing to say - Don't judge my relationship unless you are in my relationship. Here's my promise in return - I won't judge yours. I have a lot of friends and I can't say I'd want to be in some of the relationships they are in. I don't want to cheat on my husband, wife, spouse, or partner. And I certainly don't want them to cheat on me. I'm not for open relationships or swinging. I don't want to be in an unhappy loveless marriage. I don't want a boyfriend or girlfriend who beats the shit out of me. I don't want a spouse that drinks too much,

Never run out of rum on a Sunday in Texas. Yeah, I've yet to find a county that sells hard liquor on the Sabbath. Welcome to the Bible Belt. The Southern one, I mean. The Northern one isn't much better, to be honest. Suffice it to say, "Bible" anywhere is going to suck on Sundays. California. That's the place to be. If you can afford the cost of living. My life is apparently full of "nevers" these days. That said, I have a boat load of advice for anyone who is willing to listen. Or dumb enough to read by blog. Let's see if I can come up with ten. Sort of life one of my Top Ten Lists. 1. Never date a married woman or a woman with a steady girlfriend. She will not choose you. Ok, better said, she will not choose me. You, on the other hand, might get lucky. 2. Never lie to anyone smarter than you are. Not smart? Don't lie. 3. Never commit sexual harassment with anyone with less to lose than you do. This is not from personal experience. I onl

"And I wonder if I ever cross your mind. For me it happens all the time..." I look around and I see her. This. That. The clock. The lamp. Everything. I can't sit on my couch, put my feet on the coffee table, or sit right here at my bar and not remember. She was there. She helped me pick out this apartment. She was with me when I bought my furniture and helped me pick the perfect decorations at Garden Ridge. I loved this place because of her. Because of us. For so long we were inseparable. If we weren't together literally, we were together figuratively via text, Facebook, and email. She was my best friend, my girlfriend, my person. She was what made sense of my world, made me laugh, made me feel beautiful. In as much as I never wanted anyone to be everything, she was damn close. God damn close. "I don't know how I can do without I just need you now..." Oh, I'm quite certain she doesn't need me now. I'm blocked from everywhere it'

I laughed yesteday. For the first time in ages, maybe a month or more, I laughed. Not a hollow-fake-it-til-you-make-it laugh. Not a giggle, but an out and out out loud laugh. LOL at it's best. This morning the same thought crossed my mind and I giggled. And I smiled. A couple times today I thought the same thought and saw the same thing in my mind's eye. I laughed again. After than I knew what I had to do. So, tonight I came home from working all day with friends and I turned on my computer. I logged into Facebook and I put a friend's name into the search bar. When her page came up, I remembered that yesterday was her birthday. Dammit. I had to scroll through a zillion and one birthday posts to find it. But I did. And I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed some more. I hit "Share" and wrote a post. I pulled up my profile and saw my post and I laughed and I laughed and I laughed some more. I laughed so much that I got out my phone, clicked on my Facebook

If you saw the world through my eyes you would see sunflowers, a tattered American flag, a bowl of Fredericksburg peaches, and the good in people. It's not a bad view, if a little lonely of late. I'm fond of saying "It is what it is". I guess I have the power to change "what is", but some things require more than just me. Some changes are out of my control. For example, I want my old life back. Ain't gonna happen. I can hope, pray, stab a voodoo doll, burn incense, and splash around a little holy water, but my old life is going to stay right where it is - in the past. My friends are fond of placating me with statements like "you'll find a better life" and "you'll find a better wife". I'm tired of placations (if that's even a word). I'm tired of trying to make the best of "it". I'm tired of wishing things were different. I'm tired of taking 50mg of the Anti-Everything Pills. I'm tired of not

My shrink says it's good for me. The writing. I know I've been doing a lot more of it lately. And I suppose I'm enjoying it. I don't know really. I feel like I'm hiding behind the words, but maybe I'm just hiding in general. If I'm writing, I'm safe. A friend told me last week that writing keeps me alive. It's my outlet. Take it away and I'm lost. Oh, I'm still lost but at least I'm being productive. I don't feel like writing tonight. And yet here I sit. Phone and rum drink at the ready. Hands poised over the keyboard. Mind trying to think of something to write. It's as if I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I know I don't trust myself to sit still very long. I have to keep some part of me moving at all times. Truth be told, the drinking helps. And I hate that it does. The writing helps, too. My shrink says it's like dreaming. Or works the same way dreaming does. I guess it has something to do with my subc

Juliet added the last strand of barbed wire and stood back to admire the view. Her fortress was done. Finally. No one would ever get to her again. Julia also stood back to admire to view. There sure was a lot of barbed wire. What needs that much protection, she wondered. Just then, she caught a glimpse. Their eyes met. There was no mistaking the fear in those electric blue eyes. Juliet recoiled. Someone out there had seen her. She went to find more barbed wire, but she had none. Julia stood and stared. What was there to fear when there was so much love in the world? Suddenly she remembered an old story, a fable really. And so she started walking around and around the fortress. What is she doing? Why won't she leave? Juliet pondered. Every once in awhile Julia would see her, there behind the barbed wire. She kept walking. After many days, Juliet approached the edge of her fortress, peered through the barbed wire, and spoke. "I don't want you here. Why don't

"Sleep next to you soon." It's a comfort I never imagined. A love I never thought. Her arms around me. Solace, if not peace. Peace, if not solace. We are gypsy souls. She won't be mine. I won't be hers. Still... We hold on and hope. Not for each other. For something. In the meantime, we wait for the day we fall asleep in each other's arms. Solace and peace. Peace and solace. If only we'd known before. And yet... There was no way we could. This time, in it's way, is our time.  As sucky as it is, it is beautful. When her arms are around me. And I awake to find hope.

I'm back writing, but there is one thing I haven't written - A Top Ten List. For the uninitiated, I used to write them somewhat occasionally, more so after I learned that my PL (my 'platonic love', also for the uninitiated) loves them. A Top Ten List is simply ten odd musings. Most have nothing to do with anything of consequence. Still I enjoy writing them and she enjoys reading them. And that, for me, is enough. As always, in no particular order... 10. There are worse things than failing. Success isn't always as awesome as they say it is. 9. I'm making my drinks stronger these days. If I named names, I'd say I'm drinking "________ drinks' but I don't name names. Suffice it to say, my tolerance is building. And I don't mind being drunk as much as I did one short month ago. 8. Counseling is great. Simply because someone is paid listen to me talk about me. 7. I listen to songs on repeat while I write. At the moment? Craig Campbel

"Secrets are lies." Secrets are lies. She'd read that somewhere. She wished she could remember where. Being able to cite a reference could come in handy. Eh, she'd never buy it anyway. She maintained her truth. Lie enough and it becomes your truth. I would be cool if someone said that. Oh, wait , she thought, I just did . Clever, but she knew no one was listening. I'm nobody's hero. No one cares what I have to say. Not even the people, the person, I love. She was frustrated. Life had dealt her a blow. How to deal? She was a grad student. She did what she did best. What brought A after A. She analyzed. Poured over the facts, worked the logic. And cried. And cried. And cried. There was only one explanation. And it wasn't a good one. She wrote it out. Supported her argument. Logic. Fact. Secret. Lie. It all blurred into a bittersweet victory. Ah-ha! She knew. And suddenly wished she didn't. Life sucked. Why wasn't I born dumb? she thought. Or at

She laughed. In four weeks much had changed. She could laugh. And she laughed often. People were amazed at her progress. She knew she had a long way to go. Occasionally she was hopeful, optimistic even. She smiled. But none of it mattered. Not to her. She was hollow. She wanted to be whole again, needed to be whole again. If she let it, the void would consume her. She couldn't let that happen. She was still tempted. More than she would ever admit. Several times a day. She began collecting. Just in case. The day would come. This she knew. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but one day. And the next time she wouldn't fail.

"And I bless the day I met you And I thank God that He let you Lay beside me for a moment that lives on And the good news is I'm better For the time we spent together And the bad news is you're gone" ~ "You're Gone" by Diamond Rio God knows I don't believe in Him. And even this hasn't got me praying. Though I can't say I haven't thought about it. I've wondered, yet held fast in my disbelief. God had nothing to do with you. I didn't Believe when you came. I can't believe my lack of Belief made you go. Still... I find myself grasping at straws.  I wonder if I prayed hard enough would you come back? I know deep in my soul, what happened happened. He had nothing to do with it. It is what is, as I am fond of saying. It doesn't mean I don't miss you and that I don't have regrets. If we counted all of them, we could fill a universe with stars. I am better. Not better overall. Not yet. I will be. I know I will b

I need a topic. Lately, if I'm not writing, I'm crying. The rum helps. And then again it doesn't. It numbs what it numbs and leaves the rest raw. My friends help. But they aren't here with me. They don't hold me as I'm falling asleep (except that one time) or make sure I eat something besides bagel chips for dinner. Most of the time, I have no idea what to do with myself. Thus rum and writing. It can be a good combination. Or a really bad one. I recall getting emails from my mom 'the morning after' asking me about the previous night's posts. 'What in the Hell were you thinking, Stacee?' was pretty standard. Followed by a beseeching request to delete my posts. I rarely delete. I don't think I ever will again. A year ago it was just beginning. We were just beginning. Now to hear her tell it she's drinking alone and so am I. I know I am.  I had hopes that I'm trying to recover from. I'm pretty sure she has new hopes. And real

I'm not sure if hard decisions come from character or build character. I know that yesterday I made a big one, probably one of the toughest decisions I've ever made. I don't know what will come of that decision if anything at all. What I do know is that it had to be made and I believe that I fell on the side of good character. Everyone may not see it that way. And that's ok. I know what I know. I'm holding my head a little higher today. We make thousands of decisions everyday. Get out of bed? Hit snooze? Call in sick? Wear the blue shirt? Stop at Starbucks? Work hard? Slack off? Vending machine lunch? Stop for gas on the way home? Pick up Chinese? Drink another glass of wine? Take a bubble bath? Watch a movie? Go to bed early? We make most of our decisions automatically. Work, for most of us on most days, is automatic. So is getting out of bed and getting dressed. Some think more about what they eat, some less. Some know that they are going to finish the bottle of

Tonight I got called 'a piece of shit' by a blog reader who took offense, apparently, to something I wrote. As one of my long time readers and friends astutely reminded me, this isn't the first time someone has gotten angry about something I wrote. She went on to say it's not always easy being in the blog - she remembers being a 'dumb girl' once upon time - but anger usually stems from the truth. She said I probably hit pretty close to the mark to get that kind of reaction. I have to say such negative reactions require me to question my writing. I can't not. Was I out of line? I don't think so but clearly someone did. Should I stop? Should I give up the blog? Stop speaking my truth? Stop writing? I came home, had a couple drinks, and wrote the blog that had been in my head all night - The 99%. It was pretty positive so I wasn't worried about it offending anyone. I posted it both places I post my blog - Blogger and Facebook. Then something mirac

I believe that 99% of people do the best they can 99% of the time. Each and everyone of us faces a unique challenge. And I think nearly all of us try our best. We don't purposely want to fail, hurt people, or make the wrong decision. Try as we might, our best sometimes sucks. I know mine does. Everyone's does. We can't help it. We are human. We're going to make mistakes, fuck up. That's ok. As long as we're doing the best we can do in a given situation. Some may argue, but I stand fast in my belief. People are generally good, about 99% of them at any rate. At least the people I run into. This allows me to see the good in everyone. Assuredly I have to look harder at some, but in most the good is pretty evident. I respect people who struggle and cry and screw up and rage against it. I respect people who are slow as molasses, but you know damn well they are moving as fast as they can. I respect vindictive assholes because they aren't really assholes; they are

Mirror oh mirror What truth do you hold for me?  See and it will be. 

We started and ended with a text message. 'Why do we miss each other?' That one was from her to me just about a year ago. 'Can't wait to hold you' was the one that ended us. Why? Seems delightfully romantic. Well, unfortunately it was to her but not from me. That was one day shy of a month ago and the day the truth started getting murky. Soon the truth all but disappeared and now we are no more. They say. They say. They say. My friends. They mean well. They hate seeing me like this. They say words like lies and manipulation. I say words like I, love, and her. I can't tell you why I still do. Maybe I'm clinging too tightly to a used to be or a fantasy. I really don't know. What I do know is that she loved me better and made me feel more beautiful than anyone ever had. Maybe I'm letting that color my judgment. Still, I have a hard time thinking of her the way they do. I guess that's because I know her, I love her, and I think she still loves

It has come to my attention that I have a new blog reader (Kenzi, I'm not referring to you. Thanks for the 'follow', by the way! I hope we can get together and talk writing soon). I am so happy that you found my little slice of life. Welcome, welcome. You've come to the party a bit late - I've been doing this for almost eight years. As a newcomer, you may not be familiar with the ground rules of my blog. I used to lay them out quite often, but then I assumed only my mom was still reading so I stopped. Today is a great day! A new reader! I can hardly contain my excitement! So just for you, here are my ground rules - 1. This is MY BLOG. That means, to paraphrase a dear friend of mine, I get to write WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT. And I've written about almost everything  you can imagine - my life, the people who populate my life (including current and former girlfriends), lesbian sex, heterosexual sex, religion (usually my utter disdain for all things Christian), pol

With truth in her eyes And torment in her soul  In silence she fell. 

I've never been a dishonest person. Not that I've never told a lie. Because I have. My mom caught me a bunch when I was a kid. "Look me in the eye and tell me that." Yikes. I learned not to lie. In the intervening years, I've told my share of little white fibs. About haircuts and maybe about the occasional migraine I didn't have. I've more or less refrained from anything grander. Because of my mother, I'm always pretty sure I'll get caught and have to look someone in the eye. FYI, I suck at looking people in the eye. This is pretty much why I live my life the way I do. Sadly, not everyone was raised by my mom and her ruthless pursuit of the truth. People lie. Some of those lies are good. And some are bad. Really, really bad. If only these folks had had my mom. They'd have learned their lesson long before adulthood. Lie and I assure you, you're going to get caught. Getting caught sucks,  by the way. Getting caught means twenty questions an

"This is life. Bad things happen. You find your people, you find your person, and you lean on them." ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "...You're still my person, even if I'm not yours."   ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "So, we pick and choose who we want to remain close to and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people who are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping.   And sure sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you needed." ~ Meredith, 'Gray's Anatomy'     "You are my person. You will always be my person."   ~ Cristina, 'Gray's Anatomy'     I had a person. I did. We agreed a short time into our relationship. She was mine. I was hers. For the first time in as long

One step down the path She forgave every trespass And found peace within.

I believe in many things. God just doesn't happen to be one of them. Strangely, I believe in many of the same things religious people believe in. Just with a secular twist. Faith. I believe in it so much that I live by it. My faith, however, is not in some higher power that may or may not hear my prayers and may or may not choose to grant them. My faith lies purely within myself. Within my strength. Within my honesty. Within my ability to see the positive in people. Within my achievements and my failures. I have faith that everything will work out...eventually...and that peace and happiness will return. Forgiveness. My forgiveness comes from within. And I don't have to ask God and wait for His reply. True healing cannot occur when grudges are held or past trespasses are continually dredged up. I believe that 99% of people do their best 99% of the time. Mistakes are made. People fuck up, hurt others, hurt themselves. Shit happens. I believe that it is within my power to h

They ask me why I did it. Thus far only one person has understood. I'm tired. This bag of false promises gets heavy, heavier than you would ever imagine. I should know; I've done it many times before. And I really don't want to do it again. They can say it's her; it's the women I choose to date. I know the truth. I live the truth with every breath I take. It's me. You see my relationships follow the same pattern, over and over and over again. 1. They say I'm perfect, amazing, wonderful, awesome, everything. Insert whichever the extravagantly good adjective you want, I've been them all. 2. They fall in love, tell me they love me. They make me feel safe, make all kinds of promises about how much they love me. 3. Feeling safe, I jump in. I fall deeply in love with them. I try to make them feel as loved and wonderful as they make me feel. 4. Two to ten months pass (sometimes less, never more). 5. They pull away, start seeing someone else, cheat,