Notes from the Red Bird House

This is one of those posts that comes along every once in awhile (though, less often than in years past) when I really, really wish my mom didn't read all my blogs (or at least heeded my warnings to NOT read). Anywho... Here we go. We're (Well, mostly I am) going to talk about women. Now, we all know (maybe it's just my longer term readers) that I never name names. Oh, you can text me, email me, DM me, PM me, use whatever the going concern happens to be for private contacting of others and ask but I'm not telling. Regarding women and blogs, I have a don't tell, don't ask, I'm not f***ing telling policy. Suffice it to say, I know who I'm referring to and absolutely no one else needs to know. Trust that it's not pertinent to the story. If it was (or if it ever is), I'll put her name in all CAPS....until then read for content, not for gossip. "I much prefer my women and my relationships to be either fictional or imaginary." ~ Stacee An

This morning, as I was getting ready for work, I wished for some found time. A few moments or a few hours of unexpectedly free and thus un-planned time; time when literally anything could happen, including something utterly out of the ordinary. I recall being tired this morning, mostly, though, I think I was simply tired of "it" or over "it." Chose your preferred terminology. "It" could have been anything or everything - my over-planned and over-controlled life, workouts, work in general, the marked absence of money in my checking account, my overall damning idleness, my out of control hair. Regardless, I wanted none of it. I wanted a day (or even a couple hours) to just be and do absolutely nothing I was supposed to do. At 5AM, I'd reset my alarm and skipped my morning workout. I'd showered but skipped washing my hair. I was scheduled to work in Garden which always requires super-human effort to well-up even a modest amount of motivation. This w

I have the word "FEARLESS" tattooed on my arm. It's new. Just got it a couple days ago. Does it change me? Change who I am? Make me more FEARLESS? It probably should. After all, it's nice reminder to tell fear to f*** off. Take this, fear. You don't scare me, Fear. That kind of thing. And yet... I feel exactly the same as I did Wednesday morning before I sat looking at the Stratosphere out a round bubble of a window at a makeshift artists' studio/tattoo shop for nearly an hour while a needle and ink made the word a permanent part of me. The Strat... Wikipedia says it's the highest observation tower in the U.S. and the home of some of the highest thrill rides in the world. Interesting thing life. It truly takes you in circles. Last weekend a friend came to town and casually said that we should do the rides at the Stratosphere. Look, I nearly accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior on the Big Apple Coaster at New York, New York this summer. Compared to the cr

Let's get some basic record keeping items out of the way before I really get going. Because once I'm flying, I won't want to slow down to explain a few facts about myself integral to the discussion. About ten weeks ago, I moved to Las Vegas, Nevada, where I knew a sum total of two people (four if you count my niece and nephew I'd only met once each in our respective adulthoods). I'm an introvert. Let's not belabor this one with uninformed denials from readers who have witnessed me in social situations. I'm introverted, not on "the Spectrum." I can make eye contact and speak comfortably to strangers and friends alike. I seem too extroverted to be introverted? What? Because I don't visibly shy away from social interactions? You might want to hit up Google and get some info about what being an introvert really means. Anywho...Moving on... I'm going to recount a couple conversations I've had recently. And by "conversations,&quo