Sunday, December 02, 2007

10th Anniversary

Well my tenth anniversary was Thursday the 29th. I spent it alone, reading a book and snuggled down under my old aztec blanket. Of course you cant get through 10 years of marriage without some bullshit going on. People hurting each other, things being said or done that cant be taken back.... but seriously all of that aside...

What kind of man goes to a neighbors and watches a football game on their tenth anniversary, staggers in wasted just past midnight when the anniversary is over, and passes out in the bed. OH, he doesnt want me to leave out that he DID tell me happy anniversary when he came in at 6pm, and at 8pm he was at the neighbors watching football. His team lost too by the way, and so did he.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Acapella My Soul

More Chris Cornell but this song has gotten me through a lot of mess and trouble in my life. It is a solitary song but one Im sure all of us could have leveled with at one time or another. Some see it as sad and I suppose it can be taken that way, but I see it more as a rite of passage. A man (or woman) who at once realizes their insignificance in the big picture and is coming to terms with it in the way that only a wise person can. Tell me how you take this song Id be interested in knowing how its seen by others.

When this song was first released as a single soundtrack of the movie Singles, it was one of the first 'stand alone' Chris Cornell projects. And this song originally had nothing but the back up guitar in it. This version has a drummer as well, and does not do credit to the original acapella sounding original. Some were mad at him for his break to solo-dom, but I was astonished that any band could have held him down for as long as they did already. Soundgard was and is the only band Ive seen Chris play with that challenged something that seems to come so natural to him. Pure untouchable vocal and musical talent.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

I am

No longer will I accept being treated like a low life. No longer will I linger around while you sit anywhere as you are judging me as I am.

Everything about you is hypocrasy. You are not what you claim to be, and you are what you claim you are not. Maybe what you lack is fortitude. If so, I am finding that I can not just give my love to someone who is not even willing to stand up for what THEY believe in, much less support me or protect me in any of my beliefs. I am finding that when I look so deeply into another persons life that I tend to view from a very careful distance their soul as well. Not only do you hide everything about yourself and refuse to share in any moments but your misery, but you also stand at length from me when I bare my soul, or try to give you moments that I do believe in. Defending you, caring for you, caring about seeing that you are taken care of. None of those things that I put little pieces of my soul into seem to matter to you at all. I do not think I am the type of person who can accept that. I have never been anything but straight-forward to you regardless of your accusations or your lack of foresight into the relationship. There is a weakness of character in you that I do not accept nor will I pretend that it is okay with me. Not for you, not for anyone. I seriously would die for my beliefs if driven. You seriously have nothing set in stone for yourself. You proclaim yourself strongly but display yourself arrogantly. There is nothing good or honorable in that in my opinion and I do not think that my mother and father raised me to be so quickly willing to give up on that in people that I want surrounding me, people I want to spend my life with. I am finding that the thought of the loss of that which I consider to be a weakness of spirit, a hollowness of soul, no longer seems a good idea to share my life with, my heart or love or soul. It only creates a burden for me to have to choose between what I believe in or what I love. You would accuse me of being the type of person to use, abuse and take advantage of. You would call me the weak one, but even as I say the following things I know you already know it is true of me, my spirit and my soul while it does not describe one single piece of your character. I am not so afraid to be alone in this world that I would continue to accept spinelessly something unjust or evil done to me or anyone I love without taking a stand, fighting for what I believe in. I am not so in love with my freedom that I would not fight and die, or rot in a prison life term, if I had to kill to protect those I love. My children, my love, my being. I am not so in love with my body that I would not give a life saving organ, take their pain unto myself, carry their burdens if it meant a physical loss or vanity of mine in trade to someone who loved me unconditionally and with honor.

A strong person goes through pain, trauma, and the evil of this world with an empathetic eye. They see the wrongs done to others, they feel their pain, and they refuse to accept the behavior. They refuse to allow it into their lives to spread the evil to others. A weak character sees those same things, and exploits the weaknesses of the strong. Hundreds of beautiful kingdoms have fallen all over history because of just this evil lurking that is your soul, and the souls of all others like you, is pushed upon the souls of others.
You cannot run away from a weakness; you must sometimes fight it out or perish. And if that be so, why not now, and where you stand? Without those who stand and fight, we would all be in apocolyptic peril. Our souls lost long ago. Do you see me running or fighting it? Exactly, and I will fight it until it kills me, or dies itself. Men are taught to apologize for their weaknesses, women for their strengths. I will not apologize for mine. Not at the cost of my life or soul. Ever.

In order to BE this, as this is how I am, I have to either have someone who I can share that with, build that with, and live that with, or I can share nothing at all. I refuse to give of myself what is denied me, dangled before me, or forbidden me because of something in your heart or soul, or something lacking therein. I respect those who show me respect. I honor those who honor me. I give affection to those who give it to me. But along the way should ANY of those people whom I love and honor decide to do something that I can NOT respect, honor or love. Then I shall have to turn a cold heart to that which warms me in order to save myself from things that sicken or weaken my soul. As I can not be someone with the weaknesses my soul can not align, then I can not share any other important parts of my being with them. To do so would make me lesser. To do so would sell my soul. To do so would indeed make me the low life you accuse me of.

Do not preach to my clean spirit your dirt, your evil and your lack of character as no matter how much you do so, you can not make me like you. You can not make me accept things that I reject. You can not make me something I am not. I will not give up my integrity. So now you can understand why life will be as it will be, as something as simple it boils down to is good and evil. Light and Dark. Clean or soiled. If you allow the weaknesses of others to blacken your soul, so be it. Mine will always stand stronger and above those who give in so easily. And never can I show acceptance of any who are lesser. Not even if that should be you.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Chris Cornell for the Q lady and Others who know NOT

Click the link to watch GOD sing.

The lyrics

Hello, I know theres someone out there
Who can understand
And whos feeling the same way as me
Im twenty-four and Ive got everything to live for
But I know now that it wasnt meant to be
cause all has been lost and all has been won
And theres nothing left for us to save
But now I know that I dont want to be alone today
So if you find that youve been feeling just the same

Call me now its alright
Its just the end of the world
You need a friend in the world
cause you cant hide
So call and Ill get right back
If your intentions are pure
Im seeking a friend for the end of the world

Ive got a photograph, Ill send it off today
And you will see that I am perfectly sane
Not for a lifetime or forever and a day
cause we know now that just wont be the case
There will be no commitment and no confessions
And no little secrets to keep
No little children or houses with roses
Just the end of the world and me
cause all has been gone and all has been done
And theres nothing left for us to say
But we could be together as they blow it all away
And we can share in every moment as it breaks

Call me now its alright
Its just the end of the world
You need a friend in the world
cause you cant hide
So call and Ill get right back
If your intentions are pure
Im seeking a friend for the end of the world

One of his best songs ever. But just to get a feel for the man i love, try looking up his version of Ava Maria

Saturday, September 29, 2007

For The Q Lady

But all should try it at least once!!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Wild Test Click Link

Your Q Score is: 8
The Q score ideally should be as small as possible, indicating maximum agreement among elements. However, even a tiny Q score may not mean optimal functioning, since all four elements may in fact be relatively undeveloped.

Your Primary Mythical Creature
Air Types
The main strength of the Air types is intellect. The second element indicates the most probable focus for this intellectual activity.

Air with Water

Astrologically associated with Gemini and the Third House

Unicorn types are very concerned with the communication of ideas. They are witty and likeable but can also be quite shy. They are easily bored and easily distracted, and may seem unpredictable and superficial for this reason. Actually they are very deep and are usually trying to find the connections between the people and things around them. They are highly imaginative but not very practical. They love knowledge for its own sake and are not concerned about putting it to use. They are socially astute and sensitive to others’ feelings, but may still appear somewhat aloof. They are drawn to grand schemes for unifying people but these often don’t extend beyond the initial idea. Very logical and rational, Unicorn types are also unconventional and even bizarre. Other people may regard them as fey or just strange.

Your Shadow Creature
Fire Types
All the Fire types have problems relating to anger and aggression. The weakest element indicates the main focus of these problems.

Fire and Earth

This shadow is prone to a sense of stagnation due to lack of motivation and laziness. Nothing durable is ever produced. Practical activities may never be embarked upon. There is an underlying sense of futility and hopelessness. Disillusionment results from their lack of confidence that they can change anything for the better, and in any case they do not have the will. At the same time there is an underlying grandiosity and even megalomania reflected in their dreams and aspirations. They need to feel special. Instead, they may simply overindulge or neglect themselves physically. The biggest obstacle of weak Earth is to overcome self-centeredness and greed; the biggest obstacle of weak Fire is to overcome anger and aggression.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Monday, August 20, 2007

Living Nightmare

I really just had to post this before I forgot. The miners in Utah in MY opinion have had the utmost and expedient care possible. We dealt with this before with the Sago Mine so I want to make the differences, from my research as clear as possible so no one thinks Im unfeeling or dismissive of the Utah crew. Before I go there I want to express my opinion about the reason why Mining disasters grab our attention so quickly and thoroughly. Being buried undergroud is a very common yet inexplicable fear for most everyone. So just the thought of it could leave some with a lingering sense of terror, absolute desperation. The 'what would I do??' thoughts.

Well now I hear the families are complaining that the rescuers had 'given up', that they were stealing their last shread of hope. There are some massive differences here so Id like to know what others think about it, what if that were YOU, what if that were your father, brother, husband, son?

In Sago
The explosion was caused by what miners know as methane ignitions, its a gas found in all mines and below the surface of the earth. Some in concentration, normally depending on the depth. The lower you go, the less oxygen concetrate. An explosion can also mean the release of deadly carbon monoxide. The miners who were trained on how to react did what they were taught. They built a barrier between them and the possible flow of poisonous gases. The settled down and tried to remain calm. They had lost communications with the surface on the explosion. 4 of the 12 emergency breathing apparatus failed so that the men below had to share their oxygen with others, possibly cutting down on their survival time. These men know that the gas concentration can be so strong that 10 seconds in it can cause a speedy death. (after 5 second you will lose motor control, fall down, thus elimnating chance of escape) Although apparently the gas concentration there wasnt staggering, it was enough to kill the older gentlemen, perhaps youth and health were the reason for the one survivor, Randall McCloy, who barely made it out alive. The entire disaster lasted 3 days, from explosion to location of the trapped miners. The miners, 11 dead and one alive 41 hours later were found. I highly doubt without the erection of the barrier if even McCloy would have survived. The explosion itself wasnt reported in the required MSHA 15 minutes as it was supposed to be. Rescue teams didnt enter the mines until 11 hours later. Equipment these men trusted their lives to failed them in their time of need. This entire story here tells me that were I a family member or a miner in that hole, yes I would have indeed been pissed at the way this disaster was handled, from safety to the late report of the explosion. Remember now, 41 hours, 11 dead, 1 alive but requiring months, perhaps years of rehabilitation. The saddest part, the part that isnt advertised a whole lot, is that had these miners had communications from the outside, all 12, even with being shorted on their respirators, could have simply walked out. There was no blockage to stop them. Communication would have made it that simple. Man-made failure, not mother nature.

In Utah
I was seriously impressed with the reaction time to the 6 being lost in the shift caused by these mountains, far younger then the appalachains the WVA miners work in, that are not as stable and much more prone to shifting as they sit on a tetonic plate referred to by experts as somewhat of a cork bobbing on water. Safe, yet not quite. Of course, even I laughed when Murray kept claiming that it was an earthquake that caused the cave in and not vice versa. In my opinion that conversation would be limited to the hours after the miners were brought up, dead or alive. We dont care what caused it, we just want them back. Time is the enemy in a mine rescue, everything has to go just right and then you have to rely on a healthy helping of luck. The depth of the Sago miners had almost everything to do with the quickness of rescue as well as the survival of the one miner. When the Sago miners went to work they went two miles in, not deep. They were working within a deep system of mountains that allowed them to go in further as opposed to having to dig down. With the miners being about 2 miles IN at Sago and the Utah miners being about 1 mile down there is a significant difference in the way to rescue as well as the possibility of it. With mines its easy to understand that new mountains or old mountains, the more you mine, the deeper you dig, the more risk you are creating for the mountain to have to settle.

Almost from the point of the tremor in Utah that trapped the 6, rescue operations began. They began drilling holes from the top down, through nearly a mile of rock, as well as burrowing through the collapse to reach them directly. The chances are just not the same with these miners being down for so very long, so very deep, when the Sago mine tells us that those two factors were the only reason we pulled one out still alive. When rescuers, who are really just for the most part the same miners, with a little MSHA professional disaster help, are dying to get to people whose chances of survival at this point are very very slim, then Im sorry, I mean that, I am deeply sorry but its time to stop. We dont throw live bodies at dead ones just to give them a funeral, just to gain closure for the original six's familys, only to create more sorrow, more missing daddys, we just cant.

I think this recent disaster in Utah brought a couple of things to my plate. To begin with in those first few days I prayed, something I havent done since I can remember. Really prayed, really hoped someone would hear. I wanted a god or a creator to pull those men out safe and sound, or I wanted to know they went peacefully, I wanted them to have, as sad as it may be, drifted off into the peaceful sleep of oxygen deprivation, as opposed to cowering below a mile of rock waiting to die.

One thing people have to stop doing is running on some natural assumption that these 'poor miners' dont know whats going on until the disaster occurs. That the money they make isnt worth the risk. No one on earth knows this more then the miners themselves. They take these jobs because where they live its the alternative to the minimum wage jobs of fast food and production. They take these 25+ dollars an hour jobs to support their families and still have time left to spend with them. They know the rules, they know the more they dig the more there is a chance of disaster. No one is holding them there, no one makes them go in kicking and screaming. And when moderated and supervised this country has the ability to make the miners in the USA the safest miners in the world with our technology and knowledge, things not available to other countrys.

By mid year 2006 West Va, one of the biggest mining states, had lost approximately 20 miners. In 2006 in China, the offical poll was that around 5,000 miners had perished in mines all over their country. Unoffical polls who are run by human interest groups say the real number in which actual deaths are covered up and paid off, is far closer to 20,000 a year then 5,000.

If that doesnt prove we have the technology and are willing to actually USE it to save the lives of our fellow countrymen, then I am not sure what does.

Of course, and most likely just like those Utah families I sincerely hope that they will find some very lucky, miraculously lucky miners hidden away down there in a pocket of air. Its just that the chance of that is slimmer then survival in a lot of other types of disasters. And my sympathys will be with those families if they do not. But I really dont want to hear about how they are angry the rescue operation was given up inside the tunnels. I dont want to see more miners die at such a slim chance of hope at this point. People who are selfless, anyone who has lost someone to a tragedy or a disaster of this nature, they usually will agree too. If this happened to my father, and he was found dead and entombed months later, which is likely to be the case in Utah, I wouldnt want to know that I had urged even ONE person to their death because of my loss.

I hope they try to find peace. Until then there remains hope, just slimmer then most.

Saturday, August 04, 2007


This is a pretty neato little sim game I play on lately!

Virtual human development game

free human development game

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

How much is your time worth?

From 'Centuries'

Early on in Bill Gates career when he became the net guru that he is, a young man sat down and figured out what Bill Gates actually made per hour. He pondered that if Bill was walking down the street and dropped a bill (currency), what sized bill would it have to be to make Bill Gates bend over and pick it up.

The guy estimated that since Bill Gates was making approximately $150 dollars per SECOND, and that it would take an estimated 4 seconds for him to bend over and retrieve a dropped bill, that it would have to be at least a 500 dollar bill to be worth his time. Otherwise, the 4 seconds it took him to bend over and retrieve the bill would be actually costing him money.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Im Bringing Justin Back

Okay after having Justin Timberlakes 'Bringin Sexy back' video pounded into my face repeatedly I have come to a serious conclusion. Justin is indeed, bringing sexy back. But in a way all men should be able to appreciate. I mean, Im not sure of all of the age groups of women I know who read here but there are several types of sexy and general sex appeal that each woman usually has a particular.. passion for.

Mel Gibson - Rugged and brutally sexy, roughneck aggressiveness. He likes to chew on metal and takes his dates back to his trailer on the first date and they dont even care. Probably they dont even notice.

Sean Connery - Debonair and classy, romantic and passionate. Appeals to the nature of all the little girls who wanted to be treated as a princess since they were born. I hope you like opera.

Brad Pitt - Professional Pretty boy. What a beautiful thing to have latched to your arm while hes outshining you no matter who you are.

Orlando Bloom - Jack-of-All-Men. He can put on a tie and woo you in an expensive resturant or he can strap on a pair of shorts and scare the hell out of you white water rafting. Oh the fun of an energetic mate. Just wait til he gets his clothes off!

Then, well then there IS Justin. Sometimes he is a scruffy boy, wearin his wife beater like probably most of our guy friends do when its hot. Unshaven for a few days, working on his car etc. Maybe a little dirt on his sweating brow. (who would care). Then he slaps on the mob suit and shaves and wow damn he looks like every guy you ever went to school with at their high school dance. I dont even think Justin in parts is all that great. Yeah, hes got a cute little face and a killer body, but in a group of SEXXXXYYY MEN, like Matthew McConomgod!, well you just wouldnt pick Justin right off would you. Like the unathletic kid getting picked for Dodgeball, little Justy would fall a tad short. No he cant run with the big dogs yet... but he does bring a little bit of OMG I KNOW A DUDE THAT LOOKS JUST LIKE HIM, to every little city or country girl in this country.

So he is bringing a little bit of sexy back. Back to all those reg old boys, back to the little guys who can probably strike a pose just as sweetly if they had Hollywood behind them like he now does :)

U go Justin!

Saturday, June 02, 2007

My Kitty Dixie

I looooove my new kitty. She came from my best friend Cathys litter of kittens. Cat kept the only other one that came out Tortiseshell colored which is what the ladies are. Dixie, formally know as Dot, *WAVE Kendell and Cayla* and is now known around my house as Dixie. Sometimes I even call her Dixie Dot. I was gonna get here then Cat said someone near her would, then that person said she was ugly and so I had to have her. Shes Beautiful. Shes basically the same as Calico but a real calico is colors on white, a tortiseshell is colors on black.

Shes more then a handful, and shes ruthless! If you are wrasslin around with her and make the mistake of taking your hand away, she will just attack your face!

Monday, May 21, 2007

5 For 5

5 weird childhood memories

1)Loaning my portabong to Cat and her mom confiscated it.
2)Making 'rock soup' in the park with Chris, actually with a pot and rocks and water n shit
3) Putting the car in gear when I was about 3 and rolling it down the hill and through a fruit tree farm.
4) Putting nair in this chicks shampoo cuz she was flighty. (meanest thing I think ive ever done and omg yes i feel terrible for doing that)
5) My dog Pandora, a 160 lb Doberman Pincher following me into Kroger when I was about 10 and people running and screaming. (there was a lot of doby h8 back then)

5 cars ive owned
1984 VW Scirocco
1985 Buick Century
1973 Dodge Dart
1987 Honda Civic
1984 Plymouth Turismo

5 unusual pets ive owned
My rat named Bud
Spiderman - Crimson Rosella (Parrot)
2 Ferretts Yankee and Silver
My new tortiseshell kitten :p

5 weird flavors I like
Root Beer
Cream Soda
The Mystery Taffy flavor thing, damn things I cant think of what they are called now. Ill edit this later

5 weird things on my computer desk
Golden Seal Root
Canibus - Second Round K.O CD single
A watermelon cigar
A beany Dragon
A Strawberry Thief Paperweight

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Sunshower 13

Gregory Steven Kinzie

I laughed to myself the day, not long ago, that I realized that your name was Gregory Steven, not Steven Gregory. I remember the day you confessed it to me, my poking fun at you for what sounded goofy to me as a 10 year old. I remember so well the two little kids we appeared to be while being so grown, so wise of soul. I can still see clearly the day my dad caught me, you and Jay out next to Jays shed just chillin, except you had your hand up my shirt when my dad came around the corner. Jay and I knew my dad well, so before we could breath we just jumped up and ran. Unfortunately you didnt know my dad well enough to know what to do. I remember Jay and I running all the way down to the park, and stopping and looking, and my dad had you lifted off the ground with one hand around your neck. I remember mine and Jays laughter turning into fear when he really wasnt putting you down. Haha. I dont even remember the trouble I got in for it. Tells you where my heart was at long ago I suppose. :p

Today isnt really the day I would normally choose to remember as far as your life went. May the 16th was the day you died. We had so much life together before that. So many phases, so many talks, so many days and nights together. For me though, this day in history proves to be a most highlighted one. At first it was just Susans birthday. We always did try to avoid her didnt we? She was fun for a while, but then it always came back to where we stood with one another, common ground. Our common ground was that we were really only tolerant of each other in our little neighborhood gang of kids who literally grew up together, from second grade to the seventh, before and after. Chris, Jay, Melissa, yeah they were there, with us and them we made what was I'm sure a formidable gang of ruffians or heathens as my dad enjoyed calling us. But in the end, or when shit got deep, things went to hell, it was you and I who ran for the hills together. (well, once you figured out you should that is :p)

Today as I remember you I also remember my son Steven, whom I havent been permitted to see for several years. He is 13 today. Thats 13 years without you, and many more painful ones without your namesake. I dont know why things turned out this way, all I do know is that none of it was fair, none of it was good and none of it is appreciated. One day my son will know the love and the pain and the fear and the joy that went into his birth and days leading up to. Hopefully he will understand that the people who have kept him from me, from you, from our world, were just ignorant bitter people who should be pitied more then anything.

I hope its not lonely where you are these days. I hope you know that many here still think of you, with all the love and honor and hope of the true friendships we shared. We still share.

RIP Gregory Steven Kinzie

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Damn it feels good to be..


So I went to court monday for the 'issues' and the cop didnt show up again. So my lawyer objected to the case altogether. It was all dropped. ALL OF IT. No more drug test, no more bullshit, a second chance for me as far as I see it.

I greatly wonder if my other lawyer friend had a hand in this. If he did I owe him really big!!!

<3 RS!!

Friday, April 27, 2007

Hold UP

I was messing around taking the big purity test, the 500 question one when this one just jumped out at me.

.........performed oral sex on yourself? (Yes, this is possible for most males, and even for some females.)

What in the HELL? Why isnt there like 400 numbers in my business section of my phone book that has a list of people who can teach you this?


Friday, April 20, 2007

What could we be missing? Va Tech Hokies

Do you ever stop to think about how one persons actions can affect the entire earth? Ever sit and ponder how two people passing by each other instead of stopping to talk could have just missed the love of their lives? Do you ever wonder if the boy you knew that died very young would have grown up, married and fathered the next President of the United States? Do you ever get a weird feeling that if you just wait ten more seconds to leave home for that trip downtown that you will be safe?

I know more then most, that to remember is to Honor. But we try to remember their lives, not their deaths. Their deaths took up very little time in the path of their lives.

We Will Remember
April 16th 2007

Ross Abdallah Alameddine
Christopher James Bishop
Brian Roy Bluhm
Ryan Christopher Clark
Austin Michelle Cloyd
Jocelyne Couture-Nowak
Kevin P. Granata
Matthew Gregory Gwaltney
Caitlin Millar Hammaren
Jeremy Michael Herbstritt
Rachael Elizabeth Hill
Emily Jane Hilscher
Jarrett Lee Lane
Matthew Joseph La Porte
Henry J. Lee
Liviu Librescu
G.V. Loganathan
Partahi Mamora Halomoan Lumbantoruan
Lauren Ashley McCain
Daniel Patrick O'Neil
Juan Ramon Ortiz-Ortiz
Minal Hiralal Panchal
Daniel AlejandroPerez-Cueva
Erin Nicole Peterson
Michael Steven Pohle, Jr.
Julia Kathleen Pryde
Mary Karen Read
Reema Joseph Samaha
Waleed Mohamed Shaalan
Leslie Geraldine Sherman
Maxine Shelly Turner
Nicole White

I also send love to those who are suffering today. A song I feel so drawn to just wont leave my heart today. I think its oddly perfect for those who are living through this tragedy.

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
The better part of me
I'm more than a bird:I'm more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It's not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I'll never see
It may sound absurd:but don't be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed:but won't you conceed
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It's not easy to be me

Up, up and away:away from me
It's all right:You can all sleep sound tonight
I'm not crazy:or anything:
I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
It's not easy to be me.

Chastity Frye - A Mass Murderers Whore

I have no idea why this made the news last night. But I was watching the news and of ALL people I look up and see Chastity on the screen. Chastity is the mother of a friend of mines son. She all but abandoned him early on. This boy is now 12 years old. I cant imagine how he felt seeing his mother on TV announcing that she had been called by her 'escort' service to meet that Murderer in a motel room in Roanoke a week before he killed all those at Tech. I refuse to name the murderer because he doesnt deserve a name. But I am so insanely fucking enraged at the local news coverage of this whores story.

WSLS Channel 10, BAD JOB, BAD FUCKING JOB. You should have spent those 5 minutes telling us what one of those students at Tech was doing last month, instead of telling us how Chastity who got 160 dollars for 'dancing' for him was shocked and called him a weirdo. HELLO POT MEET KETTLE. A notorious slut and a mother who has abandoned 2 children gets news coverage for fucking a mass murderer? What the fuck were you thinking?

Buy My Book!

No seriously, I am still in shock over the massacre at Va Tech on Monday morning. It took me a lot of years to understand how to get over this. So I am about to call the Va Tech and ask them if I can send them an E-Copy to be distributed to some of the parents and children who have been affected by this tragedy. I am also working on a link from amazon to get this on my page.

All my well wishes go those who are suffering from their losses.


Friday, April 06, 2007

Im just not happy

I dont think most people realize that happiness isnt a lifelong occurance. Yes, believe it or not even the rich and famous cant achieve total eternal happiness. So, in the name of learning lessons and realizing how to leech every second of happiness that you can out of life I want to post a quote from one my favorite comedians. Yeah, this is sadly the absolute truth. Once you realize the depth of this quote, you might know what to do to gain the happiness we all search for.

"Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette butt, or a chocolate chip cookie or a five second orgasm. You come, you smoke the butt you eat the cookie you go to sleep wake up and go back to fucking work the next morning, THAT'S IT! End of fucking list!"

Denis Leary

Put your pants on

A good story from my childhood that I will never forget.

I was about 13 at the time, my best friend Cat was all but living with me during this time. It was great really. My parents who never really LET me do much, would let her stay quite often. One night REAL late at night Cat and I were 'partying' out in front of my house with my other friends and I had carried the portable phone with me. I was 14... so 1988, that 'portable' phone piece probably weighed at least 2 lbs back then. But I was standing there being an unruly teenager with my friends when it rang. Now you have to understand, my parents, they never did shit wrong. Hell, from what I gathered from them growing up they were born, morphed immedately into adults and began working 50 to 80 hour work weeks to support themselves. So doing anything remotely out of line or off, was just out of the question. The phone rang.

This is the Roanoke County Police Department, may I speak to Mrs. Basham?
Uh, shes not home right now. I am Mrs. Bashams daughter. Anything I can help with?
(Im pretty freaked out at this time, freaked out enough I had to hold the phone down and tell my partying friends)
The cop replies, Oh Miss, how old are you?
Im 13, is everything ok? Is this about my Dad?? Is he okay???
Umm, okay sure, yeah he is okay. Do me a favor, can you find someone who can come pick him up?
Pick him up??
Yes, we uh, we have him behind the old DMV building. Tell the person who comes to pick him up to bring a pair of pants, he isnt wearing any.
He isnt wearing pants?
No, no pants.
Uh, jesus, okay.


Okay so here is where Fate intervenes and Kismet gets to meet my Dad face to face. I am standing there with my friends going omfg, who can I get to pick up my dad that wont narc him out to my mom. That leaves both of my sisters out. Hmm, I dont know any of his work friends numbers. So HRM, well that leaves one person. M, m is my sisters husband who had just declared a few months before this incident that he was gay and thus making himself the target of my fathers judgemental wrath.

Joy? Is that you? Whats going on? Is everything ok?
(M sounds concerned because well, Ive never actually called to talk to him)
Do you need to talk to C? Shes not here right now.
No, I need your help, not C, dont tell C no matter what. I need you to come by here and get a pair of pants and take them to behind the DMV on Peters Creek Road and pick up Daddy.
Pick up Don? Pants? Why would I need pants? Ive got pants on.
He doesnt have pants on.
Don isnt wearing pants? Why did he go out without wearing pants?
When I last seen him, he had pants on. We are talking about Daddy, he wouldnt run outside during the apocolypse without pants on.
Yeah okay thats probably true.
Look I dont know wtf is going on M just come get the pants and go get Daddy before Momma gets home. I dont even know where she went. Church I think.
Okay okay, Im on my way. Hes probably not going to like it that I picked him up.
Not right now he wont but tomorrow he will be greatful.

So M comes and gets the pants and picks up Dad, who is given a police escort home. (Good lord this is 1988 not 1958 and hes wasted drunk getting an escort home instead of a DUI)
And Im thinking wow, that must have been hard for him. Sitting there drunk, wondering where his pants were, only to see my gay brother-in-law show up to pick him up. Yes, my father is the stereotypical male, if there is a gay man anywhere near him of COURSE the guy has to want him. So Im quite sure my dad is near to enraged when he sees M show up. Kismet, I want you to meet my Dad Don, Don, I'd like you to meet Kismet. In the next few years you two are going to be VERY close friends.

So out in the street Cat and I wait for the police and M to come up the road and when we see them coming we immedately dart across the street and run into the living room. Where sure as hell, here comes my dad marching through the Dining room, carrying his pants (I guess he didnt want to put them on?) wearing his tighty whiteys and Cat and I just let our jaws hit the floor. Oh we both wanted to laugh, but we were as silent as mice. As he is walking by he extends his arm so that his finger is REALLY close to my face and growls out "You! Go the hell home." And he walked on by and almost immediately, before I had even recovered enough to move an inch, I can hear him snoring away.

I looked over at Cat, she looked at me and we are torn between snickering right on the spot or running outside to tell our friends what happened, when an idea struck me.

"Lets steal his beer" I said.
"Okay" she said
"Probably he wont even remember he had beer right?"
"Probably not"

He did remember by the way.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

There will be no Christmas this Year

So for anyone who reads my blog or knows me (or my dad) they will know that I avoid Thanksgiving and X-Mas at all cost every year. Usually this is because for the first 30 years of my life it was inevitable that at some point, my father would stand, point directly at me, and declare to the masses, "You ruined Xmas/Thanksgiving/World Peace! Really Joy why dont you just shoot the fuckin Pope for next Xmas!" This might not seem very scary to some, but my father is 1) Italian. 2) 69 and 3) Extremely opinionated, racist and yet caring of outward appearances. Damn, it was just in the last couple years I found out that if I wasn't run out of the house before the 'holiday' was officially over, they even give you pounds and pounds of cookies, fudge, leftover ham and sometimes even FRESH BREAD.

Now before I move on I want to make sure anyone reading this knows Im not a racist nor judgemental person. Of course I get all codgery sometimes and rant and rave but there is no one I hate just because _____. Trust me, I hate everyone with equality.

But my father, he is very very racist and judgemental. So Thanksgiving and X-mas 2005 was bad enough. My sister had married a black man. My oldest sister. C Ill call her. The one who had married, had two kids and gotten divorced because her husband realized he was gay. (For the record I knew he was gay when I was 12, so I was always mystified as to how she didnt know) So my sister, who already had earned herself a few hate points that year for remarrying (which is stressful enough for someone as intense as my father) but she married..... she married.... SOMEONE NOT WHITE.

Dear God In Heaven

So I barely make it through Thanksgiving and X-mas of 2005, even though I was suddenly not getting the glares and the expectations of ruining the holidays right off, they still... really thought I would somehow manage to outshine the fact that there was a non-white person in the house.
Then last year, even though my father is extremely racist, my mother is extremely christian and does not pass judgement (on anyone but me) she invited my old bro-in-law and his 'friend' to X-mas dinner. M Ill call him. M was always a great guy. He always knew what to buy the kids, he always brought my mother and father lavish gifts and was always always very kind and gentle to us all. He was still GAY. He wasnt just GAY but he was bringing what my father knew to be a GAY friend to X-mas dinner. So even though I lack judgement over the situation, I still silently giggled to myself, in a more then slightly evil villianous type way. tee heeeeee, I wont be ruining X-mas this year either!!! Thanks be to the gods.

So I went and enjoyed yet another X-mas that I didnt ruin. I didnt even get the looks this time. There was NO way in hell I could ruin Xmas with my sisters non-white new husband, and her now gay ex-husband + his 'friend' in the house. Even my 5 days in jail just before X-mas wasnt brought up. No one even bothered to shun me. Not once. Life was sweet. I had a record now, 2 years of not ruining the big 'family' holidays.

*sidenote* Remember I said my dad was italian. Well two things you dont do to italians. 1) Make them uncomfortable in their own homes and 2) Do anything to make a 'family' meal uncomfortable, shady or have anyone questionable at the table.

God was I set or what?

So Im talkin to my niece a couple of weeks ago. Ash, little Ash. The sweet sweet innocent one. She is 23? 24? now. Daughter of Alice Ill call her. Alice, she was the ONE. The good child, the one who never ever fucked up as a kid. Did the band thing, moved out early, NEVER came back home... oh she was the dessert of daughters. (well she did have Ash when she was 15) (which by the way wasnt even in the least as bad as me having my son at 15) I dont know but she breaks this out on me as if she was talking about an errant neighbor or a Jerry Springer episode.

Ash: Hey! Guess what???
Joy: Yeah?
Ash: Get this, my mom... my mom is dating a new guy.
Joy: Maybe she will let this one stay a while.
Ash: She says hes really really hot.
Joy: Means nothing unless he is also blind, deaf and mute. (ash knows I have issues with her mother)
Ash: Well thats not the bad part. (now Im fading out as I always do when someone trys to drag out a surprise, Im paying more attention to the crunching noises of eating and the sound I can hear when I swallow the Kool-Aid she gave me)
Joy: mmm hmm
Ash: He is mexican
Joy: What???????????
Ash: He is hispanic.
Joy: Does Pawpaw know? (i call him that now since im used to like 25 years of grandkids)
Ash: Nah not yet

Now Im almost choking on kool-aid. I dont know what to do, its fuckin March and Im thinking OMFG, X-mas will have to be canceled this year. Maybe something tragic will happen. Maybe Ill lose a leg or something on the 23rd and it will just have to be canceled this year. Okay, calm down, calm down, maybe there is a chance.

Joy: So, uhh, I mean does he ... erm... look spanish? What, whats his name? Tell me its Brian or something. (dear god let his name be Brian Johnson or Dave Brown. Even I cant revel in this X-mas not being ruined by me. I think my Dad will actually explode this year, I cant bear to watch it. I mean, if he is racist and doesnt like gays, being mexican is the equivalent of being someone who picks their teeth at the table. Being spanish is like, the guy who chews with his mouth open. Jesus H. Christ its just not acceptable. Suddenly being black or gay or even black AND gay is soo sooooo sweet)

Ash: You're gonna love this
Joy: Oh god, I bet I wont.
Ash: Julio
Joy: HU-LEE-O??
Ash: Yeah, isnt it great. Pawpaw is going to shit himself.
Joy: No, pawpaw is going to finally wig out and kill us all.

I looked at her and seen the mirth in her eyes and was floored. Had she no clue?? Speaking of shit, I swear, Ive seen my father slap a strangers kid out of his chair at a dinner table for chewing with their mouth open (You do NOT do unacceptable shit at an Italians dinner table) but if we invited a bum to X-mas who immediately climbed onto the dinner table and SHAT directly on the X-mas Ham, it wouldnt have been as bad as this) As a matter of fact its like I can almost hear my dad at the last couple X-mas's thinking to himself. 'Well, there is a black man in my house.. at MY TABLE, and a gay man and his gay lover... but ... okay well I guess I can cope with this, I love my daughters... but whew.. jesus, I guess at least none of them have brought home a mexican.'

And suddenly Im so curious and scared at once. Im guessing this might be what it felt like the first time I got on a rollar coaster. And Im elated. Suddenly, out of nowhere, and 33 years in, I am THE BEST DAUGHTER EVER. Dont mistake this, I am a brave and straight up girl. But if I was dating a mexican guy, I MIGHT just wait until my dad was incapaciated (god forbid) in some kind of way before I told him.

I can hear the convo now, driving down the road, probably glaring at me cuz hes taking me to do a drug test for the courts.
Dad: I heard you were dating a mexican.
Joy: What??? Me??? No way, thats crazy where did you hear such insanity???
Dad: Your mother said you told her you were dating a mexican and his name was Jorge Rodriquez.

At that point Im 100% sure Id tuck myself into a ball, open the car door, roll out, wish for the best and hope I didnt break my legs so I could jump up and run away once I came to a rolling, bouncing, bone crunching stop, all the while thinking...OMG my mother must be PISSED at me for something. So now Im really worked up and I look at Ash and I toss in my one last hope.

Joy: So, does ..uhh.. Daddy know his name yet?
Ash: No, you know how my mom is, shes just gonna end up showing up at X-mas dinner with him.
Joy: I have to go now.

Immediately I pick up her kids and kiss them and put them down a little faster.. a LOT faster then normal. I want to get home, I want to find cover, maybe a bomb shelter before X-mas because Im sure something is going to explode this year BIG TIME.

So Im driving home, nearly hyperventilating, and Im picturing a new X-mas. M and his lover passing around the nicest matching X-mas gifts. C and her non-white husband, my father probably staring lovingly at them both. And Alice, with Julio, maybe a couple of those lil mexican candles burning on my fathers sacred X-mas dinner table, and me sitting next to my mother. Looking like an angel suddenly, full wing span and halo on perfectly. Then I had a thought, I know what I can do. Ohhhh, I got it. I SO GOT IT.

This year, for the first time ever in my life, I am going to say grace. I will bless the food. Never has this been done and I bet even my mother who cant walk anymore will help my father in making an effort to lift me upon their shoulders and carry me around the table, singing some new song made up about the Best Daughter ever. It is over. Another chapter in my life. A chapter that began 33 years ago where the new screaming redheaded baby started ruining X-mas with her antics and sacrilege at the dinner table. And here, 33 years later the chapter ends. Never did I once even consider this a possibility, never did I comprehend this could happen. I FUCKING WIN. I WIN the best daugther contest. I win LIFE.

Space Lord Mother Mother

If you have never heard this song, go download it. Its by Monster Magnet and the link to the lyrics is the title of this post.

I dont know why this song is so stuck on me for this last week or so, something about it drives me. In a wild direction.

The last part of this song goes...

I left my throne a million miles away
I drink from your tit
I sing your blues every day
Now give me the strength
To split the world in two yeah
I ate all the rest and now Ive gotta eat you

Well I sing... space lord mother

I lost my soul when I fell to earth
My planets called me to the void of my birth
The time has come for me to kill this game
Now open wide and say my name
Space lord mother

Not even my type of music but those lyrics there feel... ominous, potent, shit I dont know, I bet Cathy, Kuan and the Wookie understand as much if not more then I do why this song is kicking my ass while I wax my kitchen floor!

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

DNA > All Part II

The thing is that by the time I became a full fledged teenager. All of those childish questions became angry teen ones. Confusion set in and haunted me often. Why aren't I more like them? WTF is wrong with me? By 12 I realized that I was out of the ordinary. Shouldnt I agree more with them? Shouldnt I share a few... a couple... ONE view with them? Rebellious, out-of-control and wild. Those were the words I heard my parents refer to me as more often then not. So why was I so odd? They had raised me since I was just an infant. Well then I went out and perfectly screwed up. I was pregnant by 15. Being adopted also makes you at least 50 percent less likely to ever give up a child of your own for adoption. I just could never imagine giving my own child away to ponder the things I had been dealing with. I could also never imagine wondering where my only known blood relative was. There was no question about keeping my son. I didnt do too bad though, I quit school, got a GED and was in my own apartment and attending college by age 17. It was a hard uphill battle but thankfully my life had already been that, so it wasnt out of the ordinary or particularly taxing for me. My son started school not long after I restarted it. We did our homework together most nights. But I also had other homework to do. I was always told that I could apply for a birth parent search when I was 19. So at 19, I did just that. A lady who had been present during my adoption was my go-between. I remember the first time I talked to her, and her saying, 'Oh yes, I remember you, you were the redheaded baby'. I live in a city of 100,000 people. I couldnt have been the only redhead child ever to go through their system. WOW, 19 years later, she remembered me. That is one incredible social worker, or I was a terribly memorable child.

By 20 I had found them. They came to my apartment together, although they hadnt been together since before I was born. And I spent several hours talking to them. Even then I knew, that although as an errant teenager, I would have KILLED to have these parents, who I could tell right off would have never offered me discipline, judgement or limits to my freedom, lord knows what the hell would have happened to me. So there it was, the empty place I had so long known, gone. Well, for a moment I thought it was gone. But there was still a lot left unexplained. My mother, she was.. well she was the late 40's version of me. My father, his girlfriend at the time I met them was 26. And here I thought, well, I am home. But then, there was STILL something missing. The years went by and I spent as much time as I could with my mother. I remember one day in particular that I went to visit my mother and her mother. A grandmother I had never had. Within minutes of meeting my granny, she offered me a beer. All 95 pounds of her. I sat and watched her drink 12 beers that day. And although I am not a huge drinker, I still felt rather comfortable with her, and with life, knowing that at age 85, she was still swilling down beers like the wild kid I knew myself to still be. As we were sitting there on her front porch an unassuming preacher walked up to us. Immediately he began preaching the virtues of abstaining from alcohol and other vices. Immediately, my mother stood up and declared "Get yourself and your god the fuck out of my yard!" I looked over at my granny for reaction to this and seen her giving the preacher the bird and glaring. Oddly, I beamed with pride at this. And my granny and my mother and me had a good damn laugh. I got a little closer to home as I listened to them talk about how annoying it was for these 'christian sob's' to be pushing their beliefs at every Tom, Dick and Harry they came across. I also met my sisters, who are both afflicted with FAS. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. And little by little I began to see how much of a miracle I really was. My mother had Fragile X syndrome, a gene that I also carry. It is very similar to downs syndrome as it normally afflicts the person with severely reduced intelligence and handicaps in most basic skills. My sisters were both greatly affected. Both were 4 to 7 years older then me, and had the intelligence and personalities of most girls around 12 years of age. Of course I lost a bit of respect for my mother with that knowledge. At age 15 and pregnant in the height of my drug abusing days, I still ceased all drug usage and even stopped smoking when I found out I was pregnant. But, a silent voice reminded me, 'you didnt walk in her shoes.'

Six years after I met my mother, I had to bury her. I didnt feel cheated though, not for a moment. Actually, I felt lucky. I had gotten to meet her in the best moments of her life. I didnt have to see her struggling within herself those years after her kids were taken from her. I didnt have to watch her be abused by her ex-husband who was the father of my sisters and brother. I didnt have to beat up kids around the neighborhood for calling her retarded and I didnt have to see the look of shame Im sure she would have held if I had been forced to hear such things said about my own mother. I got to see the self sufficient woman she had become in the end. The one that she had to struggle to get, a struggle much stronger then what people of average intelligence have to go through. She had her own apartment and took care of herself most sufficiently by the time she passed away. She was 56 and I had known her for 7 years by then. A couple of years later, my granny also passed away, at 95. She went to her grave still drinking a case of beer a day and smoking at least 2 packs, all 95 pounds of fire that she was.

Some kids dont have 1 mother or 1 father to love them and here I had 2 full sets, at least for a moment. And as I attended her funeral and cried for the loss, my tears were not for myself. They were for the mother who had lost her children, the mother who had probably spent countless hours wondering if her children were okay. Had the families who took them been good ones? Were they being treated well or horribly? I cried for so much wasted time she must have spent wondering if she made the right choice, if being mentally handicapped was enough reason to have said 'I cant take care of these 4 children anymore, I need help.'

Yeah Mom (I did call her Mom, it didnt seem right to call her Momma. I had a Momma who had been there, who had worried where I was all night, every night. Who had suffered in her marriage because of my childish selfishness. She had paid the price of motherhood, she was a Momma, she was my Momma) you did make the right choice, you made the hardest choice, that in the end was the best for your children. I still love you, I never once hated you, I never once questioned why you had done it and that was before I met you and seen the adversity you had to cope with.

RIP Edith Strothers Boyd

From the blog of Tiamat

Visit to learn your Lustsign!

Wow, uh, damn.

Monday, March 05, 2007

DNA > All Part I

When I was four months old I was adopted. It took me years and years to realize how lucky that I was in the parents that got me. There were a lot of reasons for this. My mother, a devout christian, always tried to instill in me her beliefs, her character and her personality. Normally, children do take on traits of their parents. Some would say this is DNA and some would argue that your behaviors are completely learned. Even at a very young age I knew, I felt, like I was out of place. At around 5 or so I can remember the check out clerks, pretty much anyone questioning my mother, "where did she get that red hair!" And my mother in her wisdom and class always answered the same way. "From the milkman!" Well at 5 I had no clue what this meant. All I knew was that my Daddy was a milkman. He worked for a local dairy for as long as I could remember. So it always made sense to me... even though my Daddy was italian and had very dark black hair. I never questioned that statement. Just that I didnt fit. By age 10 or so I began to notice other things. My sisters, who were also adopted but were sisters by blood, looked very different then I did. As a matter of fact, just where the hell did I get this red hair?? The calico eyes? And why the hell was I so short??

Well my adoptive mother and father never hid it from me that I was adopted. Since I was the only child they had adopted in infancy, I was really the only clueless one in the house. They did everything, from buying books about adoption to read to me, to answering as best they could any questions that I had about my biological parents. Although by age 5 I knew I was adopted, even I questioned why I wasn't more like the folks who had spent so much time raising me. My parents, both very solid grounded people had no clue where my wild streak came from. Shit, I didnt either. I just knew that I was a wild and carefree spirit. I was fearless, yet careful. Opinionated, yet open to ideas. I was also their baby though, and my activities astounded them more than anyone. I think somewhere in their minds they felt they had failed me. They had tried to bring me up right, and here I was, doing everything I could to be wrong. My mother tried to force me into religion, boy, did that NOT take. They both wanted me to act the proper young lady, meanwhile I was busy in the neighborhood starting and winning fistfights with the local boys. They wanted me in dresses, and I would saunter home, big rock in hand to declare that I had finally 'wailed Chris in the knot' one good time, and was covered in his blood. Oh, my parents never fooled themselves though, and I used to get SO mad, that instead of my parents accusing me of falling to peer pressure, they always assumed... they always KNEW, that I was the leader of them all, that I did and others followed, never the other way around. Peer pressure applied on me has always resembled this...

Friend: You should try this!
Joy: You should fuck yourself!

I have no idea when, where or how I became so intimidating. Christ, Im only 5 foot 2 now. As a kid I may have weighed 100 lbs, soaking wet. But my best friends, the ones I love to this day, have never caved to that. Whereas hoards of elementary school and junior high school kids feared me insanely, I never respected those kids. I never respected and still to this day can not bring myself to befriend someone who is not willing to stand up to me and tell me to STFU if I need to be told so. In junior high I had friends here and there, but the thing about me was that I never really cliqued. My friends were the jocks, and the freaks and the kids that didnt fall into any catagory. But were my own friends to harrass the retarded kid, or the kid that was too fat, or the kid with the thick glasses, they could more or less expect me to jump on them and pound them in the face. I was never one to stand and ignore injustice.

Wow, did this NOT comply with the standards set at home. At home I was taught, a lady always acts like a lady. Ladies do NOT hit. Ladies do NOT hang out with boys non-stop. Ladies stand STRONG, but silently in the back ground. Ladies DO care what the neighbors think. Ladies do NOT draw attention to themselves for any reason. I think I got the best of both worlds though, and I do not regret it for an instant.

I willl end Part I though on this note.

From my fathers italian standards, I DID pick up most excellant table manners. I did learn to care just enough about what the outside world thinks to have and show some class in my living standards. And I did learn that even if you can't have your own children, kids that you love just as much as you would your own blood, would feel greatly loved and would still be the little girl who loves their Daddy endlessly, even at 33. (I still call him Daddy, never called him Dad, not once)

From my mother I learned to bend sometimes, but never ever break. To never show fear in the face of adversity. To find faith in whatever moves me, and never let anyone take that away, hoard it, hide it if you have to, it will be the steel that strengthens your spine when you feel like turning to jello. And to remember that children ARE children, but they are also future adults and that without some firm guidance and discipline, they will end up the adults that you would never call friends. And most importantly, sometimes Mommas have to be the bitches. Daddys are too busy being the friends and the breakers of Mommas rules, and that even though it might break Mommas heart, sometimes she has to say no, for you, for your future. Dont let them see you break, go to your room, cry your heart out if you have to, but return to them the same strong Momma that they KNOW loves them, but just wont let them get away with murder. (Still call her Momma too. Maybe this is a girl thing cuz my son calls me Mom, hasnt called me Momma since he was around 10)

Til Part II...

Thursday, February 08, 2007

The loss of Innocence

When I was 12 I met the girl who I had no idea was going to be my best friend for life. We spent our time picking honeysuckle and fingerpainting hummingbirds and roses. Nary a harsh word came from our wonderfully innocent lips. La La La De De De....

Okay okay maybe we REALLY spent our time picking on our other friends and the hummingbirds and roses were REALLY tattoo's that we had both gotten by the time we were 20 or so but it was still just as lovely to us. Its fair to say that since we met we have had the chance to do about everything together. I know her kids, and they know me, she knows my kids and they know her. Its all been a grand example of when people write BFF on something except this time it really lasted. And luckily and oddly enough we both ended up with men who .. er... lets say walk a much straighter line then we do. Not that I am bragging, I am not. I am very thankful for my innocent man and I know Cathy is thankful for hers. So we started our friendship in Roanoke within walking distance from one another. And here, 21 years, holy crap did I just say 21 years? Yes 21 years later we ended up completely by accident living in another county and still within walking distance of one another. (Well we would have to walk since neither of us is currently allowed to drive) And again ironically, when she met T and I met D it was both within a month or so of each other. So even today we have both been with our innocent men for the same amount of time. My innocent one has put up with Cathy a bit and her innocent one has put up with me a bit too, albeit not always in a smiling loving manner, they still manage to cope with us. So while this post is also a tribute to my innocent man, this is REALLY a post to Cathys innocent man. Last friday he generously took me to weewee in a cup in our county. Then tomorrow he will again. Next week he has to take Cathy to see her P.O. and is still kind enough to take me for my weekly weewee. So I fashioned this mspaint picture to show how giving this innocent man really is.

THANK YOU T for putting up with both of us all along. And thanks for driving the felon xpress. Without you we both might be in jail... again.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007


I hate snow. I really hate snow. Even my dog hates snow. I dont want to play in it anymore. I dont want to drive in it.

You know. I also hate the heat. I guess if I had my way Id find a place where it is perpetually Autumn. Even spring is too warmish and humid. Fall is nice, temperate, crisp and clear breathing.


Monday, January 29, 2007

Omfg I Need a Monkey

LITTLE ROCK, Ark. - An escaped chimpanzee at the Little Rock Zoo raided a kitchen cupboard and did a little cleaning with a toilet brush before sedatives knocked her out on top of a refrigerator.
The 120-pound primate, Judy, escaped Tuesday into a service area when a zookeeper opened a door to her sleeping quarters, unaware the animal was still inside.
As keepers tried to woo Judy back into her cage, she rummaged through a refrigerator where chimp snacks are stored. She opened kitchen cupboards, pulled out juice and soft drinks, and took a swig from bottles she managed to open.
Keeper Ann Rademacher says Judy went into the bathroom, picked up a toilet brush and cleaned the toilet. Rademacher says the 37-year-old Judy was a house pet before the zoo acquired her in 1988, so she may have been familiar with housekeeping chores. Judy wrung out a sponge and scrubbed down the fridge.
It took a couple of tries, but the zoo sedated the chimp, who fell asleep on top of the refrigerator with half a loaf of cinnamon-raisin bread she had pulled out of the freezer.
The zoo veterinarian gave Judy a drug to bring her around. Rademacher says Judy was groggy but fine after the episode.
The zoo says there was no danger Judy would get out of the primate keepers service area and onto zoo grounds.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Needs and Fears

Interesting things I already knew about needs and fears. I used to be REALLY scared of people. I mean, I wasnt scared of them doing anything in particular to me. I wasnt scared of them trying to shank me in the face when I went outside, or trying to wrassle me to the ground or anything. I just got really nervous and would lock up or shut down when people I didnt know very well were around.

My approach to this problem was not unsual for me. I got mad. I got really pissed off that these people were in MY way, not I in theirs. So I boldly strode out to find them and dared them to make me fear them. Dared them to try to hurt me in some bullshit kind of way. And it did take time and I did go through a LOT of fear but I was angry that they could make me fear.

In the end I made a lot of good friends. One is still my best friend to this day. I have known her since I was 12. Most of you who have read my book would know her as Janet. Which was just about the time I started getting angry at people. I have no signs of agoraphobia that I had before. Oh every once in a while I still get nervous when I have to walk into a crowded place. I still dont really LOVE being immensely surrounded by people I dont know. But I dont believe that fear is entirely unnatural these days.

My mom used to take me to church with her when I was very little and we ALWAYS got there late. Which caused the entire church congregation to stop and stare at us. It was that little moment that brought all the fear back to me. And asking her to stop making me go to church was like asking the sky to stop being blue. So each time I had to deal with that I shrunk back into myself a little more at a time.

But in the end I found out that my need for some people in my life, Janet being one of them, was far more intense then my fear of them. I havent suffered any irrational fears about people in at least 15 years. They did take a while to get over. But I had the kind of friends that wouldnt leave you alone. Those were the exact kind of friends I needed. By the time I was 17 or so the intense shy girl had begun to disappear. Not only Janet but I didnt have one friend who would allow you to just sit there and be shy. Being shy around them cost you far more self security then just opening up and being yourself did. So my need for friends and companionship overrode those fears of people that I had in the beginning. And to this day I couldnt be more happy that I didnt waste more time being so alone.

This wont work for everyone. For some people they need to take the little steps. Jumping headlong into shit for some may cause them to backtrack and become more fearful if that can even be fathomed. But for those people maybe they cant quite handle a Janet yet, but they could handle a short conversation on the phone first. A quiet night at home conversing with a newfound friend. Little bit by little bit they will find that the need has overridden the fear. It may take years, but what else do you have but time?

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Use of Force

Okay so on December 15th I had a rather bad experience. I apparently had an icky reaction to some medication mixed with Sparks. Sparks is not appearing to be such a good idea anymore. In my opinion, the powers that be meant for you to pass out when you drink. Getting drunk and being full of energy can lead to bad bad things.

Such as Tasers. Yes I was tasered. And not by a good friend goofing off and desiring me to smash them in the face. By the PO LEECE. Near as I can recall I was pulled over in Vinton. That is where things get hazy. Wait, I am not going to lie, most of the night was hazy. But in the spirit of good luck, this was one of those nights it failed me. I was NOT drunk. I was on meds that you are not supposed to drink on. Apparently I had the 'mother of all bad reactions'.

Near as I can remember this is what went down.

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Riding in unidentified friends van.

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Riding in unidentified friends car.

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Riding to unidentified friends house.

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Police flinging me from unidentified friends vehicle telling me I smelled like a brewery. (I had one Sparks around noon that day, this was around 11pm)

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Police asking me if I would take a BAC and making comments assuming I wouldnt.

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Naked wrasslin with jail deputies.

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Taser lines comin' right for me!

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Locked down naked in the Hannibal chair.

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Waking up 2 days later, naked and cold in a cell.

Sorry NAACP but this entire incident proves that you can recieve unneccesary use of force without being

A) Black
B) Male
C) Underprivledged

I was covered in bruises from head to toe, and now instead of being forced to check with my doctor about having a bad reaction to medications, I am going to have to undergo Pre-Trial drug testing. No biggy seeing as how I wont fail those, but the point should be obvious. No one is immune to the royal shit treatment where our government is concerned.

Monday, January 01, 2007

New Year 2007

Wish I could say it was happy but unfortunately there is always some miserable asshole waitin in the back ground to make sure no one can be happy.

I will wonder forever how people like that can exist.

I made no resolutions this year, I feel like I was doing amazingly well just keeping last years, my first ever resolution.

So in light of giving back the gift I was given for new years this year I just have one thing to say...


You are one miserable motherfucker. Fortunately, no matter how strong you thought you were, you weren't strong enough to bring me down to your hateful level of bitterness. Quit taking out your anger on me and direct it to where it belongs, or forever remain a pussy in the eyes of mankind.

When busted in the face for disrespecting me this guys reply was 'Im not a fighter'

Odd that, the only broken bones Ive ever had came from him. I guess 'Im not a fighter' only applies to men. If it had been a woman who busted his lip, they would have gotten a broken face.

Dick, play your games with someone else.