Thursday, March 30

HNT - Pt 3

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This is A's favorite pic of me.
She loves my eyes.
The windows to my soul.

She calls me her Goddess.
We are wrapped around one another in LOVE AND DEATH.


Monday, March 27

Celtic Crossing

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'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor:

And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller's head
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.

But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.

But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:

The Listeners ~Walter De La Mare

I remember once when I was traveling in Europe I went to stay with friends in a little Irish village called Ballyhalbert, remote doesn't begin to express the desolation of that place, but the villagers themselves were some of the warmest friendliest people I have ever met in Europe. They got a kick out of my not understanding their thick Irish accents, they were always saying "Doon't ya spake Ainglish thar missy?" then cackling with delight when my face would blush bright red.

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The cemetary in the fall was a wonder to behold, the giant headstones and celtic crosses were made by hand so lovingly that each was a work of art in itself. Still, it was a rather melancholy place. After visiting other towns it seemed so out of time and place to the rest of the world. A place where no one is unfamiliar and the roads will tear the hell out a car's suspension in a heartbeat.

The sea there almost kissed the village on a calm day, but when storms would rise the sea would become so angry I'm surprised it didn't wash the tiny town away. Need I say once more how much the sea reminds me of my own restless spirit?

Friday, March 24

The Vale of Glamorgan

I have been speaking with a friend about going to the UK with her whilst she is on a tour doing lectures at Oxford. A working vacation. A short visit from me so we can travel together a bit. I am excited by the thought of having someone so much like myself to travel with.

And yet, already, my thoughts have started to meander to where I want to go in the distant future.

Now where I really want to go is here.

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The Vale of Glamorgan.
The autumn there is supposed to be beautiful.
I have wanted to go since I was a girl, but never made that particular journey.

I don't mind going alone. I know that most people crave a companion to walk with, I guess that would be ideal, but to travel alone has never bothered me. I traveled all over Europe alone. The Black Forest, Holland, I marvelled at the Tulip Festival and took back pictures to share my adventures. I loved traveling with Paige, she was my perfect companion. We loved the same things so there was never any bickering about what to see or do next. Other trips with friends were not always so enjoyable. They wanted to go to the Hard Rock Cafe while I wanted to go to a small local pub and meet everyday folks. Have a pint, eat a banger, visit the local shoppes. That's what I like to do. I'm far too adventurous for guided tours and have a terrible time with itineraries.

So this has been hanging in my mind lately, having a very good friend visiting the UK now. I can't help but wish I was there with her. Oh the fun we would have! I am about the worst traveling companion if you don't have patience. I want to go everywhere, see everything. But she is an adventurer too so I know we would be tearing up the pubs and rocking Parliament right now.

But, I think when I do go again it will be alone.
Not that it bothers me. I usually make friends quickly.
I've found that a strange woman sitting at the bar alone drinking a pint in a small town is just too irresistable for the locals to not belly up and buy a round.

Thursday, March 23

HNT Part 2

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We love when our friends come to town.
We know how to treat them right.
This one was particularly fond of A.
And she was quite fond of him also.



Friday, March 17

A Cold Day

*Re-posted from *elsewhere*
*See Denny -- I said I would and I did :)

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Yesterday while I was out working I had the saddest experience, typical I'm sure, but sad none the less.

I was talking with a friend on the phone while driving to a business engagement. As I pulled off onto the exit ramp there was an old homeless man on the corner with a sign asking for money, not *will work for money*, but just plain, simple, asking for money.

As I dug around in my purse for a loose dollar I heard the sound of my father's voice from my teenage years echoing in my head "He'll only use it to buy booze". And on the phone my friend said, "Just ignore him. That's how people get their cars hijacked you know?" Did I listen to her? Do I ever listen to anyone? No. Never. I follow my heart.

As I hunted in my purse I saw the driver of the SUV in front of me slowly, methodically, roll down his window, and, as the old man approached his vehicle, he launched a handful of loose change... nickles, dimes, pennies, towards the old man. They hit him, fell at his feet in the grass, some rolled down towards the storm drain, others hit the curb and rolled back out into on-coming traffic. Ah see? He would have to work for his money after all. I sincerely hope he was able to recover the change from the street without getting hit by a truck.

As I pulled up to the corner I rolled down the window and stuck my one dollar bill out. The cold wind hit my hand and threatened to tear the bill from my grasp. I realized then just how frigid the air was standing out on that ramp. And for hours. The cold only steeled my resolve to follow through with this simple act of kindness.

As our hands met on the dollar bill, that wrinkled piece of paper, in some way, making a connection as I had not yet let go of it. I thought of how these little things connect us for that one small second in time. And I thought, of course, that we are definitely in car-jacking distance now.

At that moment he glanced up at me. Bright blue eyes surrounded by a much-lined, dirty face that may have seen better days, or, then again, may have never seen a better day than today, I have no way of knowing.

The look on his face was one I won't forget for a very long time, not angry at having been pelted with loose change, not grateful that I was giving up my *much coveted* coffee money. (Yes, these days the budget is so tight that every dollar that I can scrape towards the *coffee fund* is coveted and huddled over in a most miserly fashion). But that look on his face. Unforgettable in it's honesty. He was humiliated.

The look of humiliation was heart-wrenching. His lips and chin quivering, his eyes brimming with tears, so that he could not hold my gaze. Such humiliation as I have only seen a child display.

The one emotion that, as adults, we refuse to show another.
Because of him I was reminded that there are people who live in that state every day.

And I was reminded just how wrong it is to do that to another human being. Humiliate them. Just wrong.

As I watched him back away towards the the curb, his eyes once again searching for the change strewn about on the street, a cacophony of impatient horns blaring behind me for holding up traffic, It was not the words of my father nor my friend that ran through my head.

It was the words of my grandmother. A saying I had heard her use time and again, and although I understood the meaning, I never understood it quite so well as when I was pulling away from that corner.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

I know... I know.
I'm probably just a sucker for a dirty face right?
But hey, the blessing is on my head for caring as Father Savage once said. That's what is important. That I care about treating others well. As should we all.

Thursday, March 16

HNT - T... &A

No not that kind...
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

There Was a Little Girl ~~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A and I would like to wish you all a happy HNT.
We hope yours is lovely as ours has been!

Inspired by wdky we have decided to do a three part series of our own.
T&A at play.

Happy HNT everyone!


Friday, March 10


Shadow Writing
I hear a voice on the wind. A mere whisper that ebbs and flows, the harder I listen for it the further it recedes into the darkness of night's chaos. And so I ask, did you need me? I feel you there, your hand pulling at mine. Urging me into some response.

But when I do you run.

Do you fear me? Do you think there is some 'thing' I would have of you that you simply cannot part with? I guess this is true. There is some part of you that I would have. I would have it and never give it back. And I can promise you this, once had, you would never be able to be un-had. That part of you I would own. Unsatisfied with another - she of that weak embrace and mewling whine, that pillar of false virtue and strength that crumbles without constant reassurance.

I need no reassurance.
I am sure.
You have shown me time and again that you need me to see you. Your tugging at me to get my attention, negative or positive, it matters not, as long as I have looked and you know I have. And then you melt away again, a shadow that steps back into the night, only to re-appear in another form, another shape.

I see you there. I do.
And I am waiting.
Waiting for you to step fully into the light and make your demands. Tell me what it is that you need of me.

Wednesday, March 8

HNT - Intuition

Man and things.-- Why does man not see things? He is himself standing in the way: he conceals things.
from Nietzsche's Daybreak, s. 483, R.J. Hollingdale transl

Secret Rose Society

Secret Rose Society
This is my favorite poetry site.
You can submit your spoken poetry or listen to ours.
Secret Rose


Tuesday, March 7


In the beginning there was only Chaos, vast and dark.
Chaos, the gaping void. The mother of all that would come after her.
Then Erebus, the father of the night skies.
He brought forth day.
And Eros, to soften hearts and bend the will of men.
He brought divine order and perfected all things.
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It is my natural state this chaos. The situation where everything began and I feel more and more that it pulls at me harder than all other forces. And it restrains me also. Keeping me bound in a way that prevents me from wandering as I would like to wander.

Someone said this to me recently..
Days, weeks, months, years. And compared to the billions of years in which the cosmos has been evolving, it's really just the blink of an eye. I wonder why it all seems so fraught sometimes... we look for purpose in everything, instead of just... being.

Don't you think?

And I was pulled to that place once again.
That place of wondering about my own satisfaction.
I sat and read on the couch, the light from the fire warming me whilst I buried myself in the words on the page.

And Zeus had conquered the Titans and so the Olympians had come to power.
And when Zeus learned that the child his wife Metis carried in her womb would grow to be more powerful than himself he swallowed Metis to prevent the childs birth. But it caused him so much physical distress that Hephaestus split his head open with an axe and out sprang Athene, 'fully armed and brandishing a sharp javelin.’

Great Olympus was profoundly shaken by the dash and impetuosity of the bright-eyed goddess. The Earth echoed with a terrible sound, the sea trembled and its dark waves rose.

And this coincided with disturbances on Jupiter - the pull of the heavens upon the lives of mortals - and so I began to think that therein lies the truth. That growth is often foreshadowed by great chaos.
That this is the impetus to forward motion.
And I feel myself flung about. And all I want is a safe place to lay my head and rest a bit. This does not seem to be possible right now however. Everything in my life right now is contrived, strategized, formulated in such a way that it leaves me feeling pulled upon.
Stretched and thin.
Barely breathing.
And there is no end in sight to my ambiguity.

To be as Athene and burst forth thusly?
Ready to do battle? Prepared before birth to conquer.
Or to sit captive to the forces of nature?
To see what the Gods have in mind for me?

Can I let go that long?

Sunday, March 5


Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes
dry, my hand falls back, my breasts harden and
hurt, and I shiver and cry as I walk. If I
see her, my heart stops and my hands tremble,
my feet freeze, a redness of flame rises to my
cheeks, my temples beat in agony. If I touch
her, I grow mad, my arms stiffen and my knees
give under me. I fall before her, and I go to
my bed like a woman who is going to die. I feel
I am wounded by every word she speaks. Her love
is a torture, and those who pass by hear my
lamentations . . . Alas! how can I call her

Love ~Pierre Louys 1870-1925

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she smiles at me over the brim of her cup of tea
warm lights in her hair
reflect the liquid of her eyes
her fingers dance and beckon
a brush of warm skin as her hand
touches my cold cheek
her skirt falls away
showing more thigh than she realizes
as she laughs at her own humour
I am struck silent
my words displaced by her voice
And I think
I want to be her mirror


F*ck you....No, f*ck YOU! In the b*tt.

Drunk Post Warning!
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I know Pup will be mad.. We were supposed to go out again but tonight was kind of last minute. We will again soon.

Tonight we went out to dinner.
We started with YaYas - the only way to start a YaYa night.
Peach Scnapps
Coconut rum
Fruit punch

Then it was time for lobster tails and crabs... the only rule was that we couldn't eat our own food. We had to crack the crabs and feed them to each other. That meant lots of sucking of butter covered fingers and even more buttery kisses. A few licks of butter covered chins between shots of Patron Silver Tequila. It was a delicious meal and it led to an even more tantalizing after dinner delicacy.
No, not dessert.
Other things.

We listened to this.
Singing along in the fashion of people who have had entirely too much to drink.
And other songs that took us back.

I did talk to Seamus briefly. In an IM as email sorta way. He said he'll back.
Just on hiatus so no need to remove the link, still his fast exit scared me.
Here one minute.
Gone the next.

Like too many things in my life.

Now I am off. Still a little bleary from the night.
Forgive typos. I am typing with one eye closed.

Had to remove my other links. They seemed to upset my blog stalker.
Everybody wave to blogstalker.
Say hi!
Now go away and get a life.
I thought about calling him and saying f*ck you, then decided to f*ck instead.

Saturday, March 4

Double Tagged

First Tag..
By Sol
remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.






Next select five people to tag

Uhm.. hmm.. don't think I have people to tag!
Except Jericho, who needs to be tagged for tagging me!
Virgin my A$$.

What were you doing 10 years ago?

I was managing a Blockbuster and doing a lot of camping and reading.
Not quite 10 years ago...

What were you doing 1 year ago?

One year ago I was such a mess that I don't even want to think about it.
My brothers death.
Looking to find a place to deal with that pain.

Five snacks you enjoy

Spicy V-8

Beef Jerky


Fruit of any kind

Crunchy fresh veggies

I'm not much of a snacker...

Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:

One Tin Soldier~
(First song I ever learned all of the words to - from Billy Jack - One of my all time favorite movies.)

I really can't answer that... having two parents in the music industry I know a lot of songs. I mean a LOT!

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:




Buy a new bike

Buy shoes. Lots and lots of shoes.

Five bad habits:

Naughty thoughts

Playing when I should be working

Getting upset over little things

Not keeping in touch with people

Not exercising enough

Five things you like doing:


Spending girl time with Chey




Five things you would never wear again:

Anything hand me down

Anything that makes me look older than I feel

My Catholic School uniform - unless I am wearing it for all the wrong reasons ;) Then I wear it as often as possible.

That's about it.I love dressing up and dressing down and all of those moments in between.

Five favorite toys:





This... and This... butnever without this. Thanks to Celti... this has become my favorite must have. We are so alike. heh (sorry) have to change the links to pics according to my web(god)master.

Jericho's tag.
Thank you so much.
This was fun.

4 Things I Need Every Morning
• shower
• cup of coffee
• my cell phone
• breakfast

4 Things that Turn Me Off
• Relentless neediness ("relentless" is important)
• Arrogance
• Not being able to say 'I don't understand' (in others, I am quick to admit when I am at a loss)
• Selfishness

4 Things I Believe In
• Romance
• Love
• Forgiveness
• Laughter

4 Things I Am Afraid Of
• Something happening to my children
• Something happening to another family member
• Going to my car in dark parking lots
• My fears are strange and undefinable - I won't even bother to expound.

4 Things I Do Everyday
• Read
• Listen to music
• Think of my children
• Make a mistake and learn a little more

4 Things I Want to Do Before I Die
• Stand on top of a mountain.
• Buy 'that' house. The one I drive by and long for.
• See my children reach adulthood & all of us wanting still to be together
• Sail away...

4 People I Want to See
• A - and soon I hope.

4 Numbers that Rule My Life
Too many numbers - too many passwords
My life is all about numbers right now.

4 Favorite Colors
• The green of mountain laurel
• The gray of an afternoon storm cloud
• The deep red of an ocean sunset
• Black as night

3 Names You Won’t Answer to
• Patty
• Hey you blond girl (Get that a lot)
• Cat calls

3 Parts of Your Heritage
• Irish
• English
• Cherokee

3 Things You are Wearing Right Now
• Jeans
• Navy Sweatshirt
• Mukluks

3 Favorite Songs
.... but not necessarily my top 3 ....
• Anything by Van Morrison
• Beast of Burden - Rolling Stones
• The Seed - The Roots

3 of Your Hobbies
• Writing (including blogging)
• Listening to & playing music
• Reading

3 Places You Want to Visit
• Ireland
• New Zealand
• UK

3 Ways You are Unstereotypically Male/Female
• I like sports
• I like motorcycles
• I like to play sports

Take my tags please.

Friday, March 3


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Last night I dreamt.
I was in a place that was unfamiliar. A bed that I did not know as my own. I felt his hand on my shoulder, pulling me towards him as I lay with my back to him.

"No", I said.
"I hate my belly".

"You hate your belly?
But why? Let me see."

"No really, I hate it. It has a little bulge in the front.
Please. I don't want you to look at it."

"Come now, roll over here.
I want to see this awful bulge that you hate so much."

And so I rolled over on my back. Breath held, waiting for his response.

"It looks like a perfect belly to me."

"It isn't. I hate it."

"It is perfect. Just do this.
Close your eyes."

And so I lay with my eyes closed to the moonlight coming through the parted curtains, and he laid his hands on my belly. Slowly moving them up, then back down.

"Do you feel that? Do you feel how perfect your belly is?"

Then rubbing, caressing me.

"Do you feel that? Do you know that when my hands are on you every part that I touch becomes perfect? It does. When my hand meets your skin we, together, make perfection.
When my hand is empty of you I feel it. I feel that absence and I feel at a loss, as though I have no connection to anything that is real. And I know that I am your perfection. Without my hand you are unfinished. Incomplete. And therefore imperfect in your own eyes."

"Now come, let me perfect you."

And I felt those hands all over my body, fingers pulling and kneading my skin, and in every place that was touched I became whole. I became a perfect woman under his hand.

I awoke to the nights chill. And I lay under the sheets, touching myself in the same way that he had. And, still feeling his hands upon me, every place still warm and alive from his fingers, I pushed myself to that place of perfection that he could not.

And then, after the sensation was gone,
I lay with my head upon the pillow and I knew.
I am incomplete.

And I hate my belly.