Fire & Rain

I heard some James Taylor on the way to work this morning. He always makes me think of my Mom, not sure why but especially when I hear Fire & Rain and Shower the People.
I love the lyrics to this song and they hit home with me today especially, so I decided to post them. Besides it's musical genius, it makes me long for home. Here and after...

Fire & Rain
Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone.
Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you.
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song,
I just can't remember who to send it to.
I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus, You've got to help me make a stand.
You've just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching and my time is at hand and I won't make it any other way.
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I'd see you again.

Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun.
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around.
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come.
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,
but I always thought that I'd see you baby, one more time again, now.

Thought I'd see you one more time again.
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now.
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you, fire and rain, now.

Blur

At this time, vision is blurred
purpose and reality distorted, stiffled

dreams are so vivid but long coming

paint these pictures in my mind,
make them real with the pen

Fizzle out, exhausted from my keep,
like flat coke -
wasted.

Blurry.

Wipe the haze from my eyes - remains
This miasma so perplexing and yet -
compelling.

Am I drowning?
How long must I wander half blind
in this cold place? this heartless orb?

Grasping, gasping for anything - please show me

To have peace, to see a light -
hope at last ...

make the high places level so that my feet
may have even paths to tread!

Show me the way -

but there is only the blur

Blessings?

Prentice preached a few months ago about Jacob wrestling with God and how he asked God for a blessing at the end of the "battle." My mom told me that due to that fact that I have wrestled with God for a good 2 1/2 years that my blessing is coming soon.

This makes me wonder. What type of a blessing? Is there actually going to be a "significant" blessing for the times we spent in trial. I have wonderful friends here in Dallas now that I never imagined I would have. I have a wonderful supportive family. I have a great dog and an apartment with air conditioning, a fridge with food in it and a closet full of clothes.

While I DO NOT taken these blessings for granted and thank God every time I think about how lucky I am, (really and truly, despite everything previous to this new-found renaissance in my life) I wonder. I am in a singles group that needs new leadership and for several months now have felt called to step up and take action. Is this the blessing? Positions of leadership are rarely a blessing. They are more often struggles. I have always been one to love a challenge, no matter what the challenge. And I feel that inspite of the "D" and inspite of being in a singles group (where I never thought I would be... by every right shouldn't be) I feel blessed. I feel called. I feel that God truly does "work for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." It's one thing to know something, its entirely another to experience it. I just keep thinking, "How is it I am so blessed?"

I have a friend who tells me all the time (and it gets old hearing it) that I'm "way too healthy for where [I've] been." First of all, what is that supposed to mean, and second, no I'm not. Considering where I've come from, I'm so happy to be sane again its almost maddening. Besides it never did anyone any good to sit in their own misery - it gets you no where.

This post isn't going to make sense to anyone, I'm sure. But I felt the need to get these thoughts off my chest regardless.

I've decided to post a blog about my Bizzle, the GreatBeefalo. I've really enjoyed his presence since he moved to my area of Texas. He'll kill me for posting a pic, but I like this picture because it's goofy and fun and so typical of our times together. One of my favorite things to do with my bro is drive around because he does this real funny thing. I haven't named it yet, but its real funny. Explaining it will not do it justice, but I will try in vain anyway. When passing signs he will read them as they are written, for example if in all caps he yells it. So a sign might read, "Joe's CRAB SHACK" and so he reads it accordingly. So he says quietly "Joe's" and then yells "CRAB SHACK!!" It's hysterical. Trust me... it is. Among other things, I like being able to spend time with my bro whether walking 2 miles at a nearby park, venting the stresses of the day or watching old movies at my apartment... or seeing new movies at the theatre. It's also nice to have him around when I need guy advice, even though it annoys him to no end.

Anyway, this is my youngest bizzle and I. We're tight and I'm glad to have him in my life. Thanks for making me laugh when I want to cry... even though some days you make me crazy! I guess that's a bizzle's job though, right?

Unusually Annoyed

I have been unusually annoyed with people as of late. It disturbs me since I'm usually not so prone to irritation so easily. And I want to SCREAM curses at people. And that's odd for me as well. I don't know what the deal is. I think it's probably stress due to my job. I think my job may get the better of me if I don't do something quick. In the last month I have had migraines out the wazoo and they're only getting worse. I think the minute I hit the office door a trigger is pulled in my head. So, this blog is about venting. Instead of venting about the idiot drivers on the road or some idiot at the local Walmart, I'm going to vent about what really has my goat.

I am an educated individual. I have a degree that I worked my butt off to get. I do not need some woman telling me that 400 times a day when to do something or how to do it especially when it's something as menial as taking the correct number of copies to Office Depot or placing the correct number of copies into the exhibitor packets or what have you. I HATE being belittled. I am not stupide. I'M NOT STUPID LADY!!!!! The space between my ears is not empty... you didn't even attempt to go to college, I have more life experience from that alone than you do so shut it. I don't care about your stupid shows. I'm not going to go behind your back and try to take over your business! I DON'T WANT IT!!!!!!! HEAR ME, DON'T WANT IT! In fact, I'm pretty sure I hate it. There I said it. Hate. I hate my job. Really and truly.

People will follow a leader when they respect and admire them and when they are respected in return. At first people follow a leader because they have to, because of position, but eventually your leadership has to build some kind of repport: respect, compassionate, mercy, justice... good grief. When you don't come to a place where you're respected for who you are and who you are becoming, then you have lost the grounds for leading. You no longer have that foothold with which in influence.

I know I'm not as old as you... but you have things to learn from me as well NH. And if you'd ever actually listen instead of trying so hard to think of a come-back maybe you'd figure a few things out and maybe you wouldn't have such a high turn-over.

PetSmart's Not-So-Smart

I was in PetSmart this morning on the dog treat isle looking at treats for Sydney. I knew exactly which treats to get. I knew exactly where to find them. I was not looking for any other treats or dog food; if I was I would have asked. Out of no where comes this woman. In my hands I had the Science Diet Jerky treats Sydney likes so well and a bottle of gravy to put on dog food as an occasional treat (I decided this might be a fun thing to try).

"Can I help you find any dog food today?" she asked.
"No thanks. I already know exactly what I'm getting."

At that right there, she should have been smart and turned around and walked off. But alas, she inspected what I had in my hand and immediately started her full assault about the evils of Science Diet and the terrors of adding calories to dog food when trying to get them to eat.

"If your dog isn't eating, you might try the canned dog food instead of adding calories to the dry food with gravy."
"Actually, I was only going to use it as an occasional treat." I said sardonically.

She gave me a queer look and continued on... some percentages about Iams dog food (I made the mistake of telling her my intent of buying it) and how it has 66% less ya ya and blah bidy blah blah crap. Whatever lady. I looked to my left for relief, but my brother made his way to the other end of the isle leaving me to crusade for Iams by myself. When she finally shut up, I continued to the end of the isle, picked up a box of Milk Bones, went a few isles over and picked up the sensitive digestive Iams in the red sack. My bro and I walked down the center isle of PetSmart and when I spotted The Lady sitting by her brand of dog food I tried to catch her eye and smile, just to piss her off. She wouldn't look at me but she did make sure to assess to the contents of my cart. Yeah lady, Iams stands for (as my bro stated later): "I AM Sick of you're crap!"

I was venting to my brother in the Jeep on the way out. What I wanted to say to her was:

"Lady, if my Dad thinks that these dog treats are good enough for our dogs at home; if my Dad thinks that it's o.k. for my Sydney who has a jacked up stomach... then it's o.k. because he's the best damn veterinarian on God's green earth so shut the #$*#$#& up. If he's been a veterinarian for 7 years and is already President of New Mexico's veterinary association AND HAS BEEN VOTED NEW MEXICO'S VETERINARIAN OF THE YEAR then I think the food and treats he recommends are o.k. SO SHUT-UP. Just shut your liberal thinking, PETA loving pie hole."

Anyway, I've never been accosted so at PetSmart but that was enough molestation to last a year or so. I should send this to PetSmart. They may loose a client. I just want to buy my dog food and get out. Leave me alone.

The Calling

I feel like all I do is fake it,
put on this plastic smile
Play it to the crowd.

Medicate me so I'll be happy
these pearly whites glean only
white lies -
because you don't want to know
the truth.

But I feel the need to do so -
called so, to put on these airs.

At least this way I don't feel
so
different
so much
of
the time.

Fibonacci

a dove -
from the clefts of the rock
deep into the crevices of your body,
the comforting peace of your soul
Spooning - fitted into you
A puzzle wound together,
like cogs & gears stopped in motion

Fibonacci:
Perfection.

And for once it will all make sense
and the beauty will be seen
for what it is
And freedom will mean release
And love won't mean prison

the easy ebb and flow of the backbone
the curve of the knees
interlaced digits - trailing tips
the Security
the ease with which to say and be

Fibonacci.

Props to the Beefalo

Attention all Bloggers:
My brizzle the Great Beefalo of all that is beefy and good in this world just called and informed me that he rode a roller coaster called "Batman" at Six Flags in Arlington, Texas. All I have to say is:

WAY TO GO BEEF!!! I'm rizzle-sizzle proud.

You rock my socks off.

And if you'd rode the Giant, you would have rocked yours off. But that's beside the point, you ROCK!!!!!

Random Acts of Laughter...

So I was checking a map today at work and while doing so had a thought. A REALLY funny one. One so funny that I had to laugh outloud. And for an extended period of time. My office-mate (a dear friend) turned around and asked me what was going on. I told her.

Last night, my bro and I rented a movie and went back to my apartment to watch it. We discovered when we got to my place that my roommate was home. Upon this discovery he said, "Oh crap, Tizzle Bizzle is home."

When I remembered this, I couldn't help but laugh.

HAAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!

Sears

My bro and I had to go to Sears yesterday to get a battery for my Jeep. We walked inside hurridedly (I was off work for a few hours for a doctor's appointment and this was an unexpected stop)and when I didn't see Automotive looked for a sales associate. Upon seeing one I approached him and said, "I'm looking for a car battery." He replied, "Car batteries are in automotive." Really? I thought they might keep them in kitchen accesories. I stood there for a second, stared blankly ahead for affect, considered shoving the heel of my shoe where the sun don't shine and then proceded to try again.

"Where is automotive?"
"That's in the building outside."

I then turned around and headed out the door. I was really frustrated. But it was insane. Did the man really think I didn't know that a car battery would be found in automotive? Car batteries go in cars. And cars are automobiles. Therefore we can assess that car batteries would be found in the automotive section of the store.

I should have asked him if he knew where I could find ammo for a 1911. "Would that be in automotive as well sir?"

The Issue of Women

I had coffee with a man last night who is planting a church in Colorado that will be more "women and instrument friendly." The issue of women pisses me off.

I have no issues with men. I sat and talked with a man. Looked him in the eye for extended periods of time and my foot even touched his leg by accident under the table. I can eat at the same table with them and have intelligent disucssions with the best of them. I can teach their children. I can do a lot of things and am happy with it. I'm not sure what he was talking about or what point he was trying to make, but it was frustraing and mostly ran in circles.

I'm not sure who has the issues, women or men. Anyway, it is always irritating to me.

Shifting Sands

Like an hour glass -
shifting sands, the granules mini-movements
creating rip-tides
slipping away -
time & thoughts of you.

Like spent gun powder the smell
burns my nostrils & stops my heart.
Entertaining a dream.
So slipping away -
it all slips away
to settle unhealthily in my belly.
Ulcer.
Gritty particles, molten
now creating glass
Stabbing, cutting, ripping, tearing.
The Salty blood stings
but I conceal it well - I always do.
And you will never know
because I will never let you.
So the sands stop -
runs out of time -
space, life, energy, inertia, being --- hope.

And you go on.
Turn the glass over.
Painfully start the process again - shifting sands.
Serpentine movements, spiraling downward,
funneling
endlessly.

Cycles

Duel of the Cookie Fates

My misguided and ill-concieved brother has this crazy idea that because I have been rececently lavished with compliments regarding my excellent skills in the art of cookie baking by several men (being much more advanced in years and wisdom than he) that this is some kind of a fluke and that he is really the best of the cookie bakers in the family. He has gone so far as to publish a blog and state his claims on the world wide web saying that his cookies have thrown countries into wars. Well brother dear, I've got news for you. I have news.

My cookies were destroying countries and bringing men to their knees long before your feet ever touched the ground. The taste of one chocolatly morsale, the texture of perfectly browned dough melting on the tongue of one so longing and pursuing perfection was driving men off the cliffs of insanity before you were even named, before the sperm hit the egg. Yes. Yes my brother.

Roswell, NM - yeah, they say that was about an alien spacecraft crashing, but the government had to make up something to cover up the fact that the extraterrestrials were really coming to take over the world. However, if it had not been for my baking a batch of my famed and esteemed cookies there would have been an intergalatic war on our hands. But no - due to the delictible goodies baked by the strong hands of good will and peace for the better of us all, the planet was saved from a most vile destruction.

Brother dear, we know you have cookie envy. And it's ok. It's ok. There's no sense in denying it. We can find you help... there is always help. You just have to ask.

This is my Sydney... I'm re-posting the picture. It didn't turn out the right way last time and I didn't have time to fix it. So, here she is in all her magnificant glory! I love the Sydney dog... my Snuggle Muffin.

Ode to Joy!

I found my Metallica Black Album!!!!

This is Sydney and Harley (my roommate's dog). They're so happy! I think I like posting pictures... especially with my new Fugi digital camera... there's no end to the madness!!!!!

Dreams

I woke up at 3:11 am with the vivid feelings of the remainder of a dream I had. It was so strange... so real. It was insane! It was all so convincing, the flesh, the smells, the feelings of the stairs under my feet and that tingling sensation you get when standing at the edge of something high off the ground, so high that it makes your head spin. Wow. No wonder insane people are insane. Our minds are incredible. How is it we can convince ourselves something is reality when it isn't... or is it? What defines reality anyway? Who defines reality? And what makes it reality?

Wow. I was so convinced. And so dissapointed to find it wasn't real. Maybe that's why paranoid peopel become paranoid. They long so much to be wanted to by someone that they take it to extremes? Its interesting to think about anyway.

Email Addresses

My bro and I were discussing the other day the monotony of people's email addresses. I know I will step on some toes here, but I don't care. At work right now I'm inputting email addresses so that we can send out a mass $2 Off Coupon for our next show. I would guess that the percentage of people's email addresses that consist of "theirname@blahblah.com" is about 85. That's terrible. Now, I understand that if you're using a business email address you wouldn't want to have "hotmamma@mybusiness.com" but for personal use, why not? Isn't that the point of email? To be fun and creative? To express oneself? So why do all these people have these boring email addresses involving their first and last names? Is the public that mindless? Wait. Nevermind. I for one have decided that I will have an email address involving some sort of crazy name other than the one on my birth certificate until I die. I hope it annoys and confuses lots of people. I hope they think I'm immature.

I would appreciate your opinions on this matter.

Dress Code

So today, after being dressing like a complete slob yesterday, I have come to work looking very nice. This may not seem like such an accomplishment for those of you who go to work every day in a suite and tie or in a skirt and blouse. My boss does not require us to dress in such attire. Yesterday, due to running extremely late, I came in a baseball cap, jeans, a capsleeved shirt and stylish tennis shoes. Yes ladies, I was wearing a belt. A little less than business casual shall we say, but I felt today the need to show off a bit especially due to the nature of my co-workers who are obsessed with Gucci and Prada and never come to work looking anything other than something off the cover of Cosmo. So today I came in with my Express slacks, a nice v-necked sleevless summer sweater, a scarf tied around my neck (this is big time for me folks... my cousin in Namibia should be proud), heels (yes, yes, this is especially big time because I HATE heels), and just the right jewelry. Simple elegance is my motto (when not in jeans and a t-shirt). Well, as they say in the musicial Chicago, "razzle dazzle 'em"... so I did my best. And I feel triumphant. So triumphant in fact I may try this every day!

Its just that my jeans are so comfortable... and who cares what Cosmo says anyway?

Don't Tell Me What to Do

There's this guy who keeps telling that I need to "get over it." First of all, my grandmother is the only person who is allowed to tell me that. Second of all, shut up. Who does he think he is? What is he even talking about? It doesn't matter what the conversation is or what it is I'm ranting about he tells me to "get over it."

Its annoying.

Think Cap

I think about all the people that have had influences on me... those that have helped form who I am, family and those that might as well be.
I think about my friends. I think about the kind of friends that have brought me through hell and back and those friends whose relationships are more one-sided because they don't know how to be a friend.
I think about being hurt. The things said that do so much damage that if it could be physically seen it would disgust people, but because it can't people continue to spout their sewage and ruin and destroy others but mere words throw via forked tongue.
I think about being loved. And what is love anyway? So many things. Work though, mostly I think. Lots of work. And love doesn't work unless both parties are working for it.
I think about S.C., who I've only know for a very short time but who has become such and integral part of my life. I don't know what I'd do without her friendship and what I'd do without her accountability! How am I so blessed?

And I want to cry and laugh and scream.

That's life.

The Mind Debate of the Blog

Blogging started out as such a blessing and has become such a curse. My blogs are never witty and charming like my uncles or intelligent and political like my brothers. No, I'm afraid they are very depressing and morbid. Initially the thought of bearing my soul to the universe without the attachment was so appealing. I never really intended for the blog to become a diary, but it seems that that is what it is evolving into. I don't tell people I know I have it, because it would inhibit what I write on it. Now however, that I know several of the people who will be reading it it makes it harder. And besides, no one wants to get on a blog and read depressing thought provoking crap, right? I suppose since half my family thinks I'm insane anyway... it doesn't matter. And the rest of you don't know me from Adam. Having said all this, on with the seriousness. Some days you just need to write down the crap you're feeling so you don't make the mistake of taking it out on someone else. Some days you need to write something funny even if it sounds crazy. And some days you need to joke about killing yourself just so you feel better.

Anyway, I am going to try to write with a more light hearted air (just so we don't all commit a mass suicide :). But I'm making no promises to the blog audience (the whole two of you out there).

I appreciate those of you who do read and look forward to your posts.

Screaming Infedelities

It all started when I went to my grandmother's for lunch today. Little benknownst to me was the fact that my aunt and her daughter's child were there eating as well. The Wee One is two and a half and still not talking. Yeah. Having my undergraduate degree in speech-pathology, don't even get me started. So, I'm eating my tuna and Fritos (a specialty: cheap and yummy) when the Wee One decides to, as my aunt says, "sing a song." Let me just tell you that it nothing close to being a song. Songs have melody. Songs have harmony. Songs have intonation and pitch and tone. They are not however the God-aweful wailing and groaning that this child proceded to make. My aunt, however, had to go on for my entire lunch (which I decided to cut from 1 hour to 30 minutes due to this episode) about how great this song of the Wee One's was and how cute it was and so on. She even decided to put words in the Wee One's mouth, what she was singing about and so on... words that did not exist or even start to form on the little tikes lips. Good grief. It was all I could do to keep from puking. Not because I don't love the Wee One, because God knows I do. And besides, the tuna was too good to waste on vomitting it up. But my aunt is ruining her. Ruining her. But that's another blog for another day.