HNT - Black and White

"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,
[For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind!
How keen you are!]
To find a friend who has these qualities,
Who has, and gives
Those qualities upon which friendship lives.
How much it means that I say this to you --
Without these friendships -- life, what cauchemar!"
T.S. Eliot


I just wanted to send a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has been here for me during this difficult time.

Thou hast committed --
Fornication: but that was in another country,
And besides, the wench is dead.
(The Jew of Malta)



Thank you all and happy HNT!
May you all fornicate with wenches in other countries.

See the man... Os

A Bitter Pill

"Evil prevails when good people do nothing."
- Renee Firestone, 1995.


There comes such a time when every woman must make a decision to do something - a task of compulsion, one that, to others, may appear unreasonable or neigh impossible. But the compulsion to go forth is overwhelming, and, in this, she is beyond doubt that what she does is right.
And Just.

There are certain rules for anonymity on the Internet.
And rules for blogging from work.

But the most important rule is to always be very careful about who you give personal information to. This is, after all, a cyberworld, and there are individuals out there who blur the line between reality and cyberlife. They don't see the people they meet on-line as 'real', to them everyone is just a persona.

In this they are dangerous. They would post information that could lead back to you or your children. They may even contact people associated with you or your job. They have no respect for anonymity nor for the real lives of others.

For tips on how to stay safe on the Internet you might check out these hot blogging women.

Is it any wonder that they are my Blog Goddesses?

Wicked smart and incredibly hot.
A perfect combination.
Always Aroused Girl
Eros-Logos
Chelsea Girl
Viviane

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change & control your life; & the procedure, the process is its own reward.
— Robyn Davidson

Snow Day!

The residual the night's bliss left on my Jag.
Beautiful!

It finally snowed here. I stood outside and let the big, fat, wet flakes fall on my hair and my face. More often than not we get ice storms; frozen drizzle that sticks to the trees and downs power lines with its weight. Icicles that form into crystal stalactites that drop off onto the road making crashing noises all through the day. A wonderland where everything is covered in dazzling crystal. It's the most beautiful devastation I have ever seen. And terrifying to walk around under the trees, with their moaning creaks from the weight of the ice.





The most amazing thing about our ice storms is the sound in the morning. As the sun beams down it's warmth, the giant icicles begin to melt, they make loud crackling noises that I can only equate with the distinct sound of cicadas. A sound that fills the air all around and lasts throughout the day and into night. You can hear the crackling thaw as you lay in bed at night, punctuated by the intermittent thundering crash as one of the behemoths makes landfall.

But not this time.
This time it was real snow. It reminded me of my Northern past except that the flakes that fall here are heavier, wetter, more fragile. Most hit the ground and are snuffed out immediately, so I took the most pleasure in walking around in it and leaving footprints with my new fur mukluks. Not enough to make a snow angel, but enough to blanket the night in white.

It was short-lived of course, as I awoke there was only the barest hint of the beauty from the night before. I should have saved a bit in the freezer. Just a reminder of what real snow looks like. It's all just cold mud now.

Through a Glass, Darkly

"For now we see through a glass, darkly."
1 Corinthians 13:12

We build bridges within our world. Our hands reach out to find that thing that will allow us to connect. Each strand gossamer. Every touch a test. Touch here. Release, look for reaction. Touch there. Repeated again and again.

Each one of us longing to be swept away in the tidal flood of emotion, to be bound by that hand that masters us. To be connected. Enslaved. One.


Have a lovely HNT.

See the man... Os

On stories Grimm

LathronAniron

Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was trickling from it. He turned his horse round and took the false bride home again, and said she was not the true one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this one went into her chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel was too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, cut a bit off your heel, when you are queen you will have no more need to go on foot. The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the king's son.

And so goes the story of Cinderella, not the sanitized, expurgated versions that our children have been exposed to, but the raw, undiluted versions that were intended for the masses, not necessarily for the tender ears of children.

The Grimm fairytales were much darker than the family friendly renditions that came later. They were full of blood and mutilation, torture and torment. No dancing dwarves, no fairy Godmothers.

As punishment for her wicked ways, a pair of heated iron shoes were brought forth with tongs and placed before the Queen. She was then forced to step into the red-hot shoes and dance until she fell down dead. Snow White

Enough to give a child nightmares. I had forgotten how dark the Grimm stories were. Strange to re-read these stories, so beloved in youth, and realize that they were so dark and nightmarish that I would be doubtful to let young children read them.

Yet they were moral stories and powerful in their convictions.

I wonder if we are not doing our children a disservice by feeding them the watered down versions. After all, we loved them. We learned so much from them. Why should we fear to expose our children to them?


This has been just another drop in the ocean of useless knowledge.

Snow, Glass, Apples:
the story of Snow White

HOtlanta!

Happy HNT!


Take this Magic 8 Ball and partake of it, For it is the cell of my one true plastic living brain. Ask it what questions you might have. It holds the answers to all of the questions in the Universe.
This is the Magic 8 Ball I gave to O. With it she will be able to write a post - someday.

And the Babelfish said...
"For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen."
Kind of like waiting for her to post...



This month past has gone by in a haze. It has left an impression that I can only equate with taste, at moments very much like a piece of caramel, left on the tongue to melt and linger, at others a hot latte, brilliant and gone too quickly.

Her wit is quick, so exotic and different from the local population that they cannot help but draw to her, the novelty of wicked rejoinders and tinkling laughter has been a magnet wherever we go.

Last night it was a Brazilian party, the night before shopping and movies in Lenox Square. We've had lunch with a friend at La Madeline and gone to my favorite cigar bar for billiards and lager.

And I have been greedy with every moment, not wanting to share my treasure with the locals who seem to vacillate between laborious clinging and adulatory gawking.

We've settled into a routine for this extended vacation. When I have to work I turn her over to our friend and he shows her a bit of the town or she works on the projects that need to be finished before her return. We three have fallen into a comfortable program in which we spend time together and also separately.

So you can imagine my surprise when after lunch the other day I was talking to her and found myself complaining about sharing her. It was a bitter pill that spilled forth, some unexpected schoolyard jealousy that had managed to creep its way into my conversation. 'Do you like spending time with him more than you do with me?' Hard swallow... where had that come from? And what followed was an abbreviated jeremiad that did nothing to help further the case that I was not so much jealous as envious that I couldn't be there too.

She stroked my hair and reassured me that she was treasuring every moment we spend together and that she is making plans for me to come home with her. A short visit, but an extension of our time together.

We went and ate crabs. I taught her how to tear them open and we shared an afternoon of buttery fingers and strong beer. She was delighted, whoever would have thought it could be so much fun to tear things apart and eat them? I was touched by the whole affair. She is always impeccable, her manners, her speech, the only word that comes to mind is refined. It was bliss to watch her eyes light up as she loosened up and marvelled at the new wonders around her.

Some of her firsts while here...
My notes and her responses follow:

First visit to a Walmart.
She didn't say anything, just walked around for an hour with her mouth open. This is why we call it a Stupor Store instead of a Super Store. Then she asked where the sex toy section is.

First sighting of a real outhouse.
Robert Poste Child, I saw something nasty in the woodshed.

First time eating grits.
What is a grit?

First time eating gravy and biscuits.
How do y'all live past thirty?

First visit to a Waffle House.
Could I please have some clean silverware?


Places we have visited:
Follies
Shooters Alley
The Love Shack
The Atlanta Aquarium
Centennial Olympic Park
Lenox Square
Underground Atlanta
Little Five Points
The Big Chicken

The Castle
This is actually the home of an elderly couple. It is mostly underground with only the top level and spires above ground.

Weird things we have been talking about...

The Centralia Pennsylvania Fire. The coal mines there have been burning since 1962. "There are no current plans to extinguish the fire, which is consuming an eight-mile seam containing enough coal to fuel it for 250 years."

The Black Dahlia was kept alive and tortured for three days before dying of the lacerations to her face and trauma to the head. Both of her legs were broken and there was fecal matter found in her stomach. O is such a wealth of useless knowledge.

There were actually only 19 people hanged during the Salem Witch trials, I always thought there were more?

Movies we have seen.
Notes on a Scandal.
The Queen.

Our time together has now come to an end and I miss her already.

Wanna watch us Scrabble hO?
Just check here...
You can find our game listed under either woodnotwood or eroslogos, depending on who won the last game. This is an on-going tournament. It has been for two years. We have no plans of stopping - It is now a war of attrition.

Returning

Things have begun to return to a more normal pattern here.

I have a second job waitressing at a local restaurant, it's a fun place to work and the tips are great. It's something that I missed doing while I've been taking care of things at home. I've missed the regulars that come in to see me and I've missed the friends I work with. It's just a few hours of work, but I really enjoy doing it.

It felt good to get back out again. To get back on schedule. To feel a part of the throng of humanity. To once again become a part of the pulse of my hometown.

I'm waiting for O's arrival. She'll be here to celebrate my birthday with me. We've been talking on the phone like two excited school girls while we made our plans. We're going to have a blast!

The first thing we'll be doing is having lunch with Para (formerly of Chilli Talk). He's become a great friend and we are both thrilled to have O along to make up our threesome.

We'll let you know about all of the naughty things we get up to ;)