tourette's

sometimes i surprise myself.

sometimes i surprise other people.

************

last night i dreampt that my stupid fckg dad was really pissing me off. thats typical. he does piss me off. and we havent even talked in 10 fckg years. funny how someone you havent talked in the last 1/3 of your life can still piss you off.

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THE DREAM

i was staying at my grams house, the farm in Snohomish, and different family members were dropping by or staying there too.

it seems like maybe it was some kind of holiday. the table was set and grams was doing all kinds of cooking.

my dad was sitting in this chair in the kitchen, looking at this plate with a turkey or tree on it.

i cant remember what he did that pissed me off so much. maybe it was just his mere presence. that is certainly enough for most people.

my guess is that he said a variety of stupid pig-headed things, just like in real life.

************

note: a headache is a good caugh suppressant

************

fckity fck fck faaaaaaaaaaaaaahck.

this moment

right now
i sit here
on the chilly bench
the fog gently caressing the blue painted metal
so beautiful, this place
every time
but right now
this moment is new and forever and fleeting
this moment will never exist again
"later" and "next time" will not be what it is right now
had i not stopped,
i would have missed it
never to be known again

barefoot in the city

i wore the cutest outfit today.

pink skirt, white tank, white button down shirt, white pumps, (white panties too, in case you were wondering).

on my way out to lunch my boss asks... "why're you wearing such fancy shoes?"

note: the female Bostonian transplant from Washington state is not usually a fancy shoe wearing beast. she is usually spotted wearing sneakers or boots. and in the office setting she is often seen wearing black FUBU socks. :end note

my reply: "um... they go with my skirt."

she laughs, we head out the door at the same time.

as we're walking up Franklin to Washington, i am abruptly stopped in my tracks... literally.

see, the thing about the sidewalks in Boston are that they are hollow. this means that its just air and wires and junk underneath. and sometimes, this means there are grated vents where one would expect concrete. and as you likely surmised, grated vents have holes in them. holes that just happen to be the perfect size for the heel of a more feminine shoe... such as a white pump.

as passers-by are passing by, im quickly thinking through my escape options.

fortunately ive seen enough of these incidents by now that ive determined the most effective way to break free is, in fact, to remove the foot from the stuck shoe and pull the shoe out of the hole via hand.

its really quite brilliant.

because if you leave your foot in the shoe, you end up struggling to pull it out with your foot and it never budges. simply by removing your foot and using your hand, the shoe is removed with ease and grace.

now, as i remove my first shoe and place it on solid ground up ahead, i foolishly step down, onto the same grate, with my other shoed foot.

yes, its true... i did.

now im barefoot in the city. and im the girl who wore white pumps after labor day and walked on grates downtown during lunch. the girl that will be laughed at in journals all over the world by everyone who saw and everyone who reads said journals.

oh the horror!

um... i'll be back later, i need to buy new shoes.

because, sometimes we just need to hear "im sorry"

it was your birthday yesterday. i think i was able to forget about it for all of 15 minutes.

but here it is, the next day, and im still thinking about it... and you.

im exhausted. i dreampt about you. this actually happens often. too often.

i think its b/c we aren't "allowed" to talk to each other. which, frankly, is bullshit.

***

the dream? the usual.

we're at your moms house, where you and your brother are living. so, maybe we're still in high school. we're in your bedroom, lying together. there is a feeling of distance, like we havent seen in each other in forever.

we have sex. which we often do in these dreams. only, its not some great amazing "thank god we're together" sex. more like we're grieving. which is usually how these dreams feel... grief and loss.

its usually very sad because in the dreams i miss you so incredibly much. but not in a "im in love with you and want you back" way.

you're empty, not there. which in real life was true, i guess. and im always worried your mom will know im there and freak out. and i want to avoid your brother b/c he's such an ass.

inevitably i run into both of them somewhere in the house. and im either needing to use the bathroom or looking for food. lol. typical me, dreaming im hungry. oddly, your mom doesnt notice me there. your brother, however, insists on following me around and being in my business.

in this dream, you had this growth on the back of your head. in real life, it makes me wonder if you're okay b/c i remember you always had cluster headaches.

***

back to real life.

you should know that im very happy and living really well. last time we talked you were also doing really well. this pleases me, and i hope you're still enjoying life and your new house and your lady friend. i hope you treat her well and that she treats you well too.

i didnt send a birthday card because you stopped sending birthday cards. and honestly, i didnt want to do more for you than you for me. which, frankly, is stupid. i dont want you to feel bad that you didnt acknowledge my birthday or feel good that i still remember yours.

but its 13 years ive known your birthday. you were my family and really all that i had. so, you can imagine why i would still have some grief. its like you died, only you didnt. you're still alive. we just have to pretend you're dead. except we had agreed that we'd still talk and be friends and share our lives in a friendship way.

i wonder if you are married. or maybe have a baby. and if im over here, not knowing. and if i would ever know. or if it will be another 10 years before i hear that someone ran into you and your wife and children at a game.

i want you to know that i only wish you the best. although i admit im still annoyed about the cigar and gun... they just weren't good gifts. it might actually be nice to hear you say "yeah, they were shitty gifts, im sorry." which is why i wish we could still talk to each other. so we could both uncover our hurts and heal. im sure you still have some wounds inflicted by me. and i just happen to have grown up enough to be able to say "yeah, i did that, it was fckd up and im so sorry." because sometimes, all we need to heal is a genuine "sorry."

i paint, therefore i am

'twas but two days ago this sea of paint broke through the steel of my dammed and dusty mind, to cascade o'er thick white canvas desert like a rainbow waterfall o' misty treasure. wasted, it is not.

sadly, 'tis work to which i must return. bah, says i. alas, i shall bathe in the gold and silver of my pay so that i might again have a bed on which to lay my tired head and feet, oh whoa.

i will exist

there are people who believe that you can never really know another person just from online conversations.

they are wrong.

you can.

and you can know that person so well that even when they cease to exist, they are still in your heart, as whatever you believed them to be.

is knowing someone from in-person interaction more authentic than the knowing you experience online? or do we really ever know anyone in our lives at all?

even the most transparent and authentic person, to some extent, is hiding behind their own self-made illusions, hoping people see only the mask they present and not who they truely are. for if we saw the real him/her, would we still love them or would we reject them for not being the illusion we've grown accostomed to seeing.

what is really sad, is that by hiding oneself from others, one can never be fully known, nor can one ever fully know themself or another. the illusion we project prevents us from seeing the truth of ourselves, just as it prevents us from seeing the truth of another.

what one misses by hiding behind this mask is the beauty and treasure that is oneself. able to see only what others see in us, we lose ourselves in this lie.

if we are unknown to others then we are unknown to ourselves, and we cannot but cease to exist at all.

let it happen

everything happens for a reason and there is always something to learn from it. no need to fight it or over analyze (or misspell). no need to ask questions or allow self-doubt to creep in.

trust yourself.

trust the universe.

let it happen.

let it happen.

let it happen.

adventure in truth

nothing like having ice cream cake for dinner, and breakfast, and lunch, and dinner again. yum.

"Money is like love, the more you give away the more comes back"
Sark 2004 Page-A-Day Calendar

i will not take the job that offers massive quantities of money in exchange for me experiencing massive quantities of stress.

instead i will let spirit guide me and follow my heart. i will paint and write and coach because that is my truth.

when i do what i love, the money will come to support my adventure in truth.

i love this universe.