"Pssst"

Ever gotten that in form of a text? As a greeting? I have. Once upon a time, someone I care about very, very,  much, used to text me that exact same thing: "pssst" All.The.Time. That was his way of initiating communication with me.

Moving on. 

So earlier today, I read an article about men and texting. The article said that some men text women  because they are too chicken to actually call the woman on the telephone. It gave examples of some of the more popular phrases that men used:

"What up?" (no typo there, just, "what" without the "s")
"Hey"
"It's me"
"What are you wearing" and
"Send me a pic"

Have we really resorted to this? So what's the story? Are men that lazy that they would rather resort to texting superficial mutterings rather than pick up a phone and have a normal conversation? Oh wait, normal and men do not belong in the same sentence!  I digress...


To be fair, it's not just men who do the inane texting, women are guilty of this as well! But because the article I read was about HOMBRES (that's men for you non-Spanish speaking folk) eh, we'll just go with that.
I asked a few of my guy friends why they preferred text messaging more than actual verbal contact. Naturally, their responses were so, so, "Man-ish!" What? Creating new words makes me happy!

This is what they said:
"Because it's faster this way."
"Because I don't have to listen to her bitching and whining"
"Because I can't stand her voice" 
"Because I don't like her like that, I just want to know if she's available for sex and can I go over!"

The responses just kept getting worse and worse after that.   I surmised that:

1. Men are simple creatures.  Still.  Always.
2. Texting late at night can only mean one thing and it's not "Come get me out of jail!"
3. Age has nothing to do with it.  Men can be 18 or 45 and over and STILL text any of the above phrases.
4. I have some crazy male friends!

Conversation is the missing equation in this problem! -that's what I think anyway!  My phone hardly rings anymore.  I wonder why.

**Shortly after I had this conversation with the guys, I received not one, not two but THREE text messages from them each propositioning phone sex as well as "sex-sex" (that's what one of my friends text messaged, really!) and then I got follow-up texts from them, "LMAO! You know we're just KIDDING right?"

Simplicity at it's finest!

Dream Big or Go Home!

This is the post that I had lost when Blogger went crazy a couple of weeks ago. Here it is again, in case you missed it before it disappeared.  -There's a lot of that going around lately.

A friend of mine, Jason Khristopher, just published his first novel.  It's a sci-fi thriller.  The Dying of the Light: End, (for those who love this type of stuff. It's a zombie thriller)  And while I'm excited for him and his accomplishment, I can't help but get down on myself.  I've been writing since I was about 11 years old.  My first short story was published in Readers Digest when I was fifteen years old.  I've had some of my poems and essays and short stories published in local and national magazines.  Those are some pretty great accomplishments wouldn't you say?  Damn straight they are!  Then why? Why do I feel empty and envious of my friend's success? I wrote my first novel when I was 31 and am currently working on my second one.  The first one remains unpublished.  I kept the rejection slips and letters in a box as a reminder to keep writing.  And I do, keep writing.  It just becomes a bit frustrating and disheartening for me at times.  I love to write, I live to write.  I breathe it.  I enjoy creating characters, telling stories, plotting storylines.  My biggest dream is to have my book published and turned into a movie.  Yeah, a la John Grisham or James Patterson style.  What? It could happen! My friend Jason went the self-publishing route and is selling his book on Amazon.com.  And that's great! For him.  I don't want to go that route. I want the agent, the publishing house, the contract, the book signings.  I want that.  Is that so wrong?  People tell me, it's a different world we live in now, and "self-publishing is the way to go!".  But I'm stubborn.  I want to make it big the "old fashioned way".  Am I holding on to a fairy tale?  Maybe I just have a serious case of the "envies"  
Whatever the case, I'm a writer.  I have a gift.  I know this.  And one day, everyone else will know too.
Ok kids, enough "woe is me".  It's Wednesday! How's your week going?

The Zombies did it!

Don't mind me, I can't sleep and came to blog, but was met with Blogger mayhem instead.  What the heck? I can't see any of my followers on my blog or anyone else's followers for that matter. And that makes me sad. I love seeing your faces on my blog! Is it just me that this is happening to?  Does this have to do with the conspiracy thing again? (doesn't matter which one, there are tons of them according to my mom)  Is it the zombies?  Did they get the date wrong or what? 

Karma?

Bueller? Anyone?

Ugh! Whatevah! I'm off to see a pillow about some sleep.

Small talk

A few weeks ago I went to a friend's dinner party.  It was an intimate group of  about 12 people.  Some were couples, and some were not.  Good times! Well, during this little soiree a male friend, we'll call him "John" asked me how it felt to be "still" single and "kidless" not to mention the dreaded "over forty".  Now, normally I would have given him a smart-ass response because his questions would have pissed me off.  But I was feeling pretty mellow and had a nice buzz going (Thank you Cesar, the host, for those yummy mojitos.) I thought about my response and finally answered his stupid questions.
"Well, I can have the remote all to myself. I don't have to rush home to cook for anyone else. I can come and go as I please. I don't have to take anyone else's feelings into consideration but my own. I can sleep on either side of the bed. I have the Sunday paper all to myself -ahhh bliss! I can sleep around if I choose to..."

His eyebrow went up. A-ha! I had his undivided attention now.  "What?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.  I could almost see the lusty thoughts going on in his feeble little mind. Men are so simple. So anyway, I smiled back at him and said, "Well, men have been doing it for years and years. Sleeping around. Wham, bam thank you mam! And sometimes NOT EVEN a "thank you mam"! So why can't women do it? I don't have children or a husband or a boyfriend. I don't even have a pet!  I have no one to answer to but myself. If I want to have sex with men from here to Dallas and back why can't I?" He looked at me for a long time and said, "You're right. You are absolutely right." Then he proceeds to ask me out. Hahha! That's so NOT going to happen. As a single female (over forty or not!) I still have the choice to say yay or nay. I voted no and told him so. He looked disappointed but regrouped quickly and then asked, "So how about we just have sex then?" He was smiling at what he thought was a great response!  Silly boy. I flirtingly smiled at him and in my sexiest voice told him I was not interested, but thanks and off I went in search of another mojito.

Never too late for gratitude!

Hey kids! Just a quick note from me.  I have gotten quite a few new followers in the past few weeks and didn't want them to think I'm ungrateful for the follow! I'm not.  Thanks so much for following my blog and coming along on this journey that is my life.  I won't promise roses and champagne all the time and the roads get bumpy on occasion, but I will promise a fun and sexy time nonetheless!   That alone is worth my chaos!

That's it for tonight.  Short and sweet. Like me.

Muahahahhaha!

How Do You Spell Relief? J-O-B

Hola bloggies! Happy Tuesday evening to all of you! So what's up with everyone?  Y'all been good?  Or bad?  Talk to me!  So as the title to this post indicates, I am officially EMPLOYED again as of tomorrow morning! This has got to be the shortest unemployment nightmare for me -ever!  Call it a coinky-dink, call it a miracle, or divine intervention, or maybe the zombies had something to do with it!  Whatever or whoever is responsible (personally, I think it was my own bad-assness that did it, but that's just me), I am over -the-moon excited and relieved and just, grateful!  Thank you for all of your prayers, vood-doo sticking skills, good vibrations, deals with the debil, etc.  I am fortunate to have not only my family and friends in my corner but also my "virtual" friends as well.  It was a rough week and a half, but thankfully, that cloud is dissipated.  The job deets are still sinking in, so I won't tell you about it right now, but I will soon, promise.

Ok, that's all I have tonight.  Sleep well and dream big!

Peace.

Early morning musings...

Hello bloggies! Ok, I feel a little better today, than yesterday.  I just posted a regurgitated post and was going to leave it at that.  But then, I changed my mind. Yeah, I do that ALL.THE.TIME.  Thanks for every one's words of encouragement and advice.  YOU ARE ALL THE BEST!

So, yesterday (Monday) I bombarded all my business contacts with my resume and made my "cold calls" to various law firms throughout the city.  I'm also still waiting to hear back from the interviews that I went on last week.  We can only hope -and pray.  Which I've been doing more of lately.  Well, more than usual, for me.

Besides not receiving a paycheck twice a month, the other thing I hate about being unemployed is that my routine is interrupted and my sleep schedule, well, let's just say, it's non-existent right now.  I'm keeping up with the workouts though.  I have a "boot camp" to prep for.  That's my one constant in my life that I will not compromise.  And for that, I am grateful.

Let's see, what else can I amuse you with?  Oh yes, you know I'm getting old senile older when you turn on the tv and it says "90210" and I got all "giddy" because I thought I was going to see Brandon, Dylan and Brenda at the Peach Pit,  but instead some really young looking kids that I could less about and had no clue who they were, came on the screen. Yes, I completely forgot that there is a new 90210! So my giddiness deflated like a balloon and I changed the channel in disgust.

Let's move on.

I met the Musketeers for brunch yesterday.  It had been a while since we got together.  We met at a GREAT little place in mid-town.  The bottomless mimosas were delish as was the food.  And yes, I know I messed up my calorie counting in that one sitting, but I've been good.  So I gave myself a pass.  "Fun-day Sunday" or "Therapy Sunday", whatever you want to call it, girl-talk is always fun and necessary, don't you agree?  I *heart* those girls!

And last but not least, the Astros kicked ass tonight (er, last night) and WON! What? It's been a rough season and we're not even at the All-star break yet.  Let me have this little bit of happy.

Eh, that's enough for today or tonight, depending what part of the world you're in.

Hope your Tuesday is off to a good start.  It's about 12:45 a.m. here, and I'm wide awake.

What are you doing?

Cetti House Revisited-Again

I don't have it in me to blog today.  So I went to "blog vault" and found this piece that I posted awhile back.  For those that have read it before, please indulge me again, for those that have not, I hope you enjoy it and I promise to be back with something awesome soon! 

The other day I was driving around and soon found myself in familiar surroundings. -the neighborhood where I grew up. So much had changed and yet, so much remained the same. We lived in a neighborhood that is called the Near Northside. (by way of Houston, Texas.)  Close to downtown but not in downtown. Our neighborhood was in the "barrio".   There was an array of Mexican restaurants to choose from in case you got a case of the "I'm hungries", and if by chance, you happened to bust a strap on your footwear, or scuff your shoe on the cement, why, there was a "shoe-hospital" place at the corner. Or if you were in serious need of an "adult" beverage, there was liquor store on the opposite corner of the block. See?  Convenience at it's finest folks! A win-win situation if you asked me! 

Our house lined the block behind the aforementioned businesses.  The street was quiet, small, quaint, and modest homes stood beside each other. Ours was the third house from the left, on Cetti street. It was grey with dark black trim, (which changed to yellow with white trim soon after we moved in because my mom said so) and there was a giant Oak tree that shielded our home from the sun. Surprisingly, it even survived Tropical Storm Alicia back in the early eighties.  I remember during that storm how it shook it's leaves and threatened to topple onto our home, but luckily, we were spared.  That tree also served as the official sign holder in our neighborhood.  Because it was so huge and so sturdy, we, along with neighbors always posted our signs for Garage Sales or missing pets on it.  It also served as first base.  See, back then, we played baseball on the street.  First base was our tree, second base was our neighbors mailbox, third base was the neighbor across the street's grass and home was whatever object we found that could be easily moved if a car came by.  Ha, ha, good times.  Sadly, as soon as we sold our house, the new owner had the tree cut down.

As I drove by today, I stopped right in front my former home. The sight of it gave me goosebumps as memories started pouring in.   Just as I was about to drive away, the front door opened and the "mom owner", spotted me, waved and started walking toward my car. In Spanish, she greeted me, asked how I was and did I want to come in? As if to entice me, she told me she had just made some rice pudding. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I hated rice pudding! I think I'm the only one in my family that does! I got out of my car and walked in with her. Explaining that I could only stay a minute.

Upon entering I was immediately transported back to 1977 -the year we moved in. The "mom owner" (sorry I keep referring to her like that but I don't want to use her name) told me to feel free to take a look around. And boy did I! My first stop was my old room. Well, it actually belonged to my sister and I. We shared a room until I was almost twenty.   -I can't believe we didn't kill each other before that!  The room (well the entire house actually) had hardwood floors. ONE medium sized closet -can you believe it? One closet for two girls? To say that we had catfights would be an understatement. There were three large windows embracing our room. I had the left side and my sister had the right side. Or as I used to say, I had the "neat" side and she had the "messy" side.  Without thinking I sat on the bed that now occupied the room.  Besides the cat fighting my sister and I did, we also shared many secrets, dressed for milestones, birthdays, graduations, weddings (not ours of course), sleepovers, pillow-fights and giggle fests.  This is also where I used to cram for exams.  I'd shut the door and hole myself in here and drive my sister nuts because I wouldn't turn the light off and she would be in here trying to sleep.  Sigh, a lifetime ago...

I walked out of that room and could almost hear our laughter reverberate through the walls.  The next stop was my parents room, I stood at the doorway, staring at the bed that was now there, again remembering the many times my brothers and my sister and I would go in there for comfort, or money (ha), or to watch tv with them, or just to lay beside my mom as she brushed my hair at night. It's also where the yelling and screaming and hate spewed out of.  Not many happy times here.  This is the room my parents almost destroyed themselves when they were together. 

The sound of the phone ringing brought me back to reality. I took a quick glance at the rest of the house. The dinning room was always my favorite room of the house.  My mom always made us sit together for our meals at the table. Together.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even our snacks were at the table and together.  This was the time we asked about our day or just listened to my mom go on and on about whatever was on her mind that day.  My dad seldom was present at these sittings.  Usually he was at work or asleep our just "out".   Moving on, I went and stood in the living room and recalled how our house was Grand Central Station back in the day. Our home, for whatever reason, was the meeting place for our friends. It was always full of kids, friends, friends of friends, family. Never a quiet moment. It was also the party house of the block. We had parties to beat ALL parties! And don't get me started about Christmas! Oh my gosh! Music, always music (salsa, merengue, boleros, cumbias, rock, oldies) you name it, we heard it! And dancing, lots of dancing! I could almost smell the scent of our home from way back then...

The "mom owner" appeared, having finished her phone call, came up to me and  gave me a big hug. Told me not to be a stranger, that my family and I were welcome anytime. She handed me a  Ziploc plastic container filled with rice pudding. I thanked her and walked out of the house.

Walking to my car I glanced at the street.  Everything seemed so small now, so old.

Sigh, sometimes driving to "nowhere in particular" takes you on the road home.

just my state of mind

This life I lead
so full
so fast

It fills me
with love
with loss
with anger
with problems
with stress
with tears
with anxieties

The light shines brightly
I shield my eyes
It's safer here
in the darkness
of my despair

But the light keeps shining
enticing me
reminding me that there is more to life than darkness.

Hello bloggies! It's Sunday and I'm sure you're wrapping up your weekend as am I.  So the that little blurb up there, pretty dark, yes?  I apologize for that but the sadness took over my normal "happy" place.  The "monster" that follows me and heckles me and taunts me, is still here.  It's more stubborn this time.  I fight it, but I'm losing right now.  Tomorrow is another day.

Tell me something good! And remember, Monday's on deck, make it a great one!

Rapture this!

Since the world is coming to an end this Saturday, I saw it fitting to share this article that I read in the Houston Press ( http://www.houstonpress.com/ ) I tried to add the pictures but failed miserably.  At any rate kids, take a read and don't forget to laugh!

Whatever


Five GREAT Things About This Weekend's Rapture
By Richard Connelly, Wed., May 18 2011 @ 3:08PM

Music to be playing about 6 a.m. Saturday: Blondie's "Rapture"

In case you hadn't heard, the Rapture will happen at 5:58 a.m. Saturday. All the good, Christian people will ascend to heaven and everyone else will be left here to suffer through unprecedented natural disasters before the End of Time comes in the fall.

At least that's Doonesbury's take on the situation, which is all the research we're willing to do. Apparently this all stems from some preacher buying billboards across the country advertising the coming apocalypse.

The Rapture coming Saturday? That is craaaazy. Unlike most of the other stuff in the Bible, which is all perfectly true.  Still, the Rapture promises some benefits for YOU LOSERS who will be left here sniveling on Earth while we're up in the clouds banging virgins, or whatever the proper version of heaven turns out to be.

5. Traffic on Monday morning will be a breezeDo your worst, Gulf Freeway. There may be a back-up on the HOV lane to Our Lord, but ye sinners will be cruising like it's HISD's spring break.

4. All those cool old theaters converted into churches? It's movie timeAnd people are going to want to be distracted, believe us. Also, since they're all doomed, you can show all the porno you want. Serve beer while you're at it, because there are no more sainted people than the dedicated agents of the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission, according to the TABC, so there won't be any harassing "spot checks."

3. Good time to get your license renewed if you can't do it online
Plus, you won't have to pay any traffic tickets because the municipal court workers MUST spend all their time praying, fasting and doing whatever it is God demands. They certainly aren't doing anything to move cases along.

2. End of the Tea Party
One of two things will happen: The Tea Partiers are right, and Jesus hates immigrants, Democrats and women who actually enjoy sex. In which case, the Tea Partiers are headed upstairs and you won't have to be bothered by them. Or, the Tea Partiers are wrong, and discover there's nothing that can be done about it and flail about in despair. (Or, in a longshot alternative, the Rapture doesn't happen. Just covering all the bases here.)

1. Astros season ends
Drayton McLane loves nothing better than God-fearing white boys in his lineup. Boom! They've disappeared!! Boy, the 1986 Mets would have killed in post-rapture MLB. But then again they killed in 1986

"You've Got Virus"

Nothing better than getting a text from a friend that says, "You're infecting everyone! You slut!"  Of course he was kidding.  I'm NOT infecting anyone! :)  Such a jester he is!  So apparently, my Hotmail account contracted a virus and is now bombarding all of my contacts with emails and who knows what else!  As I've already done on Facebook, let me apologize here, to any and all who have been affected or should that read, infected?  Mia culpa, mia culpa, mia culpa.

Moving on. 

A few of you have sent me emails (I bet you regret that now don't you?) with words of encouragement and comfort regarding my impromptu unemployment status.  You have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one that I received.  They help me in ways you will never know.  Thank you for lifting my spirits and in some cases, making me laugh.  I appreciate it very much and love you all to pieces!

It's only Tuesday and I've been on two interviews already.  One yesterday, one today and one tomorrow. I hate playing this "wait and see" game but it must be done right?  I'll keep you posted if there is any news! Keep the positive energy and prayers coming! Pretty please.  Aside from that, I've been working on my book, and catching up on my reading.  I've been neglecting both recently and it's time to get back at it. 

In other news, I signed up for a mini boot camp.  It starts June 1st and runs through June 21st.  Three weeks of hell exercise and drill sergeants (real ones, not the "pretend" ones) and sweat and torture on my body. Yay!  One of my friends is doing it at her gym and she asked if I wanted to do it with her.  I agreed. What was I thinking??? Not a lot obviously.  Actually, I think it will be good for me. We'll see what I'm made of and how much I can take! ha! 

Well kids, that's I got for tonight.  I know, I know, it's lame. But I'm emotionally and physically drained right now. All I want to do is crawl into bed and dream about, well, stuff I'm not supposed to be dreaming about. 

I digress.

Until tomorrow! Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.

Smoldered Memories

Walking into the dimly lit bar that I had agreed to meet a friend, I immediately recognized it.  Inhaled it.  Felt it.  To this day, I cannot stand the smell of cigarette smoke.  I detest it.  Not because smoking is bad for you or because cigarettes can kill you, no, my dislike for cigarettes and their smell is purely selfish reasons. Because they remind me of my father.  I remember being maybe 14 or 15 years old and literally flushing newly bought cigarette packs down the toilet.  Or if my father had just lit one up and left it briefly unattended in an ashtray, I would throw it in the sink and turn the faucet on and watched them as they wilted away.  Much to the horror of my dad.  "What are you doing? Mija! I just bought those!"  I remember his anger and how I would just leer at him and tell him it was for his own good.  But then there are other memories as to why I loathe the "Cancer stick"  Memories of when my parents were still together.  How their fighting, the smell of my dad's cigarettes and the scent of tequila permeated our house.  Even long after the fighting was done and they had made up, the smoldering ashes remained.  Lingering.  Dancing their last dance before dying out completely.  Years later, when my father finally left for good, I remember how "clean" our house smelled.  And my mom stopped drinking.   And how I never wanted him to come back because he still smoked and well, it would bring back the smell.  Weird what goes through a naive teenager's head.  Even now, whenever I do see my father, and I greet him hello, I can smell the cigarettes, I can smell the smoke. And I cringe.  From far away, I could hear someone calling my name, "Yvonne? Hellooo?"  I open my eyes and see my friend waving his hand in front of me.  "Where'd you go? You seemed entranced or something..."  Smiling I winked at him, grabbed his hand and led him out the door.

The Red Dress Club -The prompt was to write what comes to mind
from a picture of cigarettes in an ashtray.  This was my my memory.

Unemployment Quandries

Does our job define who we are? What happens when we lose our job? Does that make us less of a success? Does it mean we are a failure? Why is it that when something like this happens we tend to feel our sense of self all of a sudden and feel meaningless? Why is it that because we lose our job we feel inadequate, embarrassed even?

Is having a job really all that we are?


Friday afternoon I was "let go" by my boss, due to "our firm going in a different direction..."  Uh huh.  Different direction my big booty!  The loss of my job came as a complete shock to me.  Two months ago I had my mid year review and received nothing but praise and even a raise!  To say that the rug was pulled under my feet would be putting it mildly.  I am still in shock.  My boss went on to explain changes he was implementing in the coming weeks and since we were so small, someone (me) had to be the scapegoat.  He went on to say how it was a "very difficult decision." But he wished me "all the best."  This is the same boss that I complained about early last year.  The one that drove me to tears and sent me home  with my stomach in knots and my neck stiff as a board, most every night. 

 Losing my job  has me on a roller coaster of emotions. First I am in mourning, then the worries set in, and finally, panic. Oh I am trying to remain hopeful and optimistic and keep myself busy so as not to obsess about it, but all the while, the voices keep yelling at me: "Rent is coming up", "Car note is due", etc. Sometimes I can silence them, sometimes I can't. It's only been two days but it feels like an eternity.

And so I ask again, is our J-O-B what defines us and makes us who we are? Should we be measured by having a job versus not having a job? Does not having a job makes us any less of a person or a success? Why? Why not?

I realize I am babbling but these are questions that came to me as I find myself in my current situation. I know the difference between having a career and doing something you love versus just having a job and bringing home a paycheck. I've tried to look at my situation in terms of a "new slate", "starting over" but even then, the feelings of worthlessness and/or failure remain. And even, a sense of embarrasment.  Am I being too hard on myself? Of course I am. I realize that, but it makes me stronger in a way.  Like everyone else caught in this situation, I find myself having to make adjustments and decisions that I did not think I was ever going to have make and it sucks! It sucks really bad!   But I am resilient, this I know. And I will bounce back, once everything settles and I am back on my feet.  With the job loss came other news that crumbled my single, carefree, sometimes happy life. Within the span of a day, everything changed.

Ugh, change, changes! So many...

Tomorrow is another day...

Friday the 13th Sucked, NOT in a good way!

The best part of my day yesterday was listening to my five year old nephew, as he told me how his team won their tee ball game and how he made the winning run and got the game ball.  And when he was done, he blurted, "Ok bye aunt Yvonne, love you!"  and that made all the bad stuff that happened late yesterday afternoon, disappear.  And while I'm not ready to discuss what transpired, I am going to ask for your positive energy, prayers, vood-doo dolls, santeria, encouraging words, whatever you have.  I need good thoughts my way, please and thank you.

Before Blogger went schizo on us, I wrote a post on Thursday night and now it's gone and so are the awesome comments!  And that just sucks.  In an effort to keep the premise of that particular post going, let me recap -sorta.  My friend Jason Kristofer wrote his first novel.   The Dying of the Light: End. 
If you like zombie thrillers, please check it out!  I was pimpin his book and stupid Blogger killed it.

Ok kids, no fun on this blog today.  Have a great weekend and be good! Or be bad, and call me.

Lost and Found

I can't seem to find her. Will someone please help me search? I've gone round and round and still come up empty-handed. The last time I saw her, truly saw "her" she was happy. She was hopeful. She was herself. I am staring at herself now, in the mirror but I don't recognize her. She is no longer a familiar face. Somewhere, amidst the facade and the layers upon layers of mistakes and the pain is where she lays.  Where did "She" go? I'm so scared I'll never see her again, so scared. I know she's scared too, of the uncertainty that is her life, the consequences of her mistakes, the sadness that engulfs her.  She tries to mask the disappointments and the frustrations with laughter and a smile, always a smile. Convincing everyone but herself. Behind that smile is a sadness so deep, so painful that it is embedded in her soul.  Oh how to get her out of that hole that she's fallen into?  From the outside looking in, I peer down that black hole. I look hard and see her. She's staring back at me. Pleading with her eyes to help her. I reach my hand down and ask her to take it... "Let me pull you from the darkness!"  She takes my hand and holds on tightly. "I won't let go, I promise." I tell her.

Somewhere deep from the depth of my slumber, I hear a ringing and it won't stop. My eyes open, and I realize it's the alarm clock. I shut it off and sit up on my bed.  I'm crying and my heart is pounding. The dream is vivid, alive in my mind. I try desperately to remember every little detail. I don't want to forget. But just as other times, my memory of that dream starts fading away and I only remember  little bits and pieces. I wipe my tears away and hug myself. Only to have the tears start falling down my face again.
This time I leave them there. Let them fall. And I cry.

For the longest time I've felt lost. At times, I feel I have a grasp on myself, my life, but that only lasts for a little while. I'm so tired of this cycle. So tired. I try and I try to make the changes that need to be made, but I fail miserably in the end. And I return to the familiar, the safety of what I know.
All I can do is keep trying. Keep trying. And keep trying.

Crashing

A feeling so good you want to bottle it up and take in doses.
Going through the day floating on air
A permanent smile on my face
Everything is brighter, more colorful, exciting
Afternoon daydreaming
of our night together.
Morning comes
Another day
The "so good feeling" is gone
Empty and hollow
is what I'm left with

As with everything
what goes up
must come down

Crashing.


***Not so sure about this poem.  If you want to call it that.  Just thoughts swirling in my head and decided to post them.  I may delete it, not sure***

Solemn

When I walked into my office this morning, I got settled in and as I sat down in front of my computer, the little "beep" sounded, alerting me that I had new email.  It was a mass email to everyone on our floor.  As you may or may not know, I work for a small law firm.  We sublet from a much larger firm.  So the email came from the main partner of that firm.  The subject line read, "Robin".  It took me a few minutes before I realized they were referring to one of the paralegals that works for them.  The email started, "It it with great sadness..." A lump formed in my throat and my stomach did somersaults.  Robin had succumbed to the beast that is breast cancer earlier this morning.  She fought the good fight for almost a year.  I've only been at this job for about nine months.  Robin was one of the first ones to welcome me and even gave me the "grand tour".  She was a very nice and very sweet woman.  Even though near the end, she was in very visible pain and discomfort, she always, always had a smile on her face.  I will never forget that.  She was only 48 years old but looked well over sixty. She walked like my 89 year old grandmother used to walk.  She used to wear fedoras with diamond studs on them.  I swear she had one in every color imaginable.  Robin worked until about three weeks ago.  The last time I saw her, she and I rode the elevator together down to the deli.  She could barely walk, yet here she still was.  After reading that email I sat in my chair and started crying.  I cried for this woman who I barely knew.  I cried for her family and friends she left behind. The office was very somber today.  Eerily quiet.  Everyone it seems was walking on eggshells.  Everyone was extra nice to one another.  Even the "Negative Nellies". 

In our haste to live our lives and get things done, we often forget or lose sight of the bigger picture.  We're not going to be here forever. We only live like we are.  Death puts things into perspective. A reality check of sorts.  Actually, any major event does that.  Good news, bad news, even "no news".  It's all in us as to what or how we react to such situations.

There is another star in the sky tonight, shinning brightly.  Rest in peace Robin.

A Party, Sex in the Bathroom Proposition, Mother's Day -My Week-end Wrap Up!

Hello kids! How's everyone's weekend been?  Great I hope!  First and foremost, Happy Mother's Day to all the mommies of the world!  You are all truly amazing, amazing, amazing! I applaud you for your selflessness and ability to make "everything okay".  I spent the day with the sibs and my mom.  Spoiling her is fun! I just wish she'd let us do it more often.

Well, it's official, I'm back in my home and back in my room!  Words cannot express the relief and the utter happiness I felt sleeping in my own bed last night, for the first time in six weeks!  The downside is that I have to clean the inside of my car. It's got tons of clothes and shoes and who knows what else in there! 

Saturday night I went to a friend's 40th birthday party.  It was a Hawaiian themed-Luau.  Good times!  Tons of people, lots of mingling, lots of food, yummy adult-beverages with little umbrellas, and the guests were encouraged to wear "Luau" attire.  Sounds fun right? Well it was!  Except (come on, you knew that was coming)  for being propositioned to have sex in the upstairs bathroom at the party.   I'm sooo NOT a prude.  Truly I'm not. I've had sex in pretty random places and am all for spontaneity but it's not like that with us.  We were just playing around.  We always do when we see each other.  That being said, some men have a lot of nerve assuming that you will drop your panties just because you happened to make-out with them or share a quick kiss or maybe even a flirt here and there.  How that translates to "Come in with me so we can *insert expletive here* --we're all adults, use your imagination as to what he said.  To be fair, I do flirt with this guy whenever I see him, but it's all in fun.  And he knows this.  I thought he was kidding when he suggested it, but when I realized he was serious,  I walked away.  A litany of text messages later, he says he was kidding and that in actuality he wanted me to go for a drive with him.  I'm giggling just recalling what happened.  But  I'm the one to blame.  I was called a tease and was told, "You don't know what you're missing."  Seriously? Oh but I do!  Sigh, silly boys.  Have they not learned anything about women?  No of course not.  Example, a different guy, on a different occasion, professed how he was in a new relationship and things are "going great", and he loved her to death! But he was "horny" and she was out of town and well, she didn 't do the "phone-sex" thing.  Um, so you love your new girlfriend, but call someone else because you can't get yourself off or wait until she comes back? Ugh! Ok so never mind that I'm utterly crazy about guy No. 2, that's beside the point. My point is  why call me if you have someone?  If you're "so happy"?  Why do that? In this instance, I know it was because he knows I'm crazy about him.  They don't have a clue do they?  Am I wrong here? Help a sister out. 

Finally, I drank a bit too much last night and woke up parched and dehydrated and very tired.  On my agenda for today was tons of water and ideally, sleep, but it being Mother's Day and all, that had to wait.  The bright side to this Sunday, besides celebrating da mommas, was that the LAKERS LOST!  That's right. I said it. I can't stand them and am so happy they are out!  :)

Well kids, that's it.  I'm going to go pass out now in my comfy bed.  Bed at last, bed at last! Thank God Almighty, I've got my bed at last!

Love Sex and Rock and Roll -not really

It's 12:49 a.m., I'm sitting here catching up on blogs and comments and listening to music, having some wine.  But mostly, I'm finally taking in a certain event that transpired earlier this week.  Sigh, wow.  Eleven months.  I've tried not to give it much thought.  But I'm not fooling myself, it's all I think about, even when I'm sleeping.  I know I am not making much sense, but it's okay.  I'll divulge later, or not.  In other news, I'm still a "gypsy" or as a certain someone called me, a "nomad".  But it looks like Saturday night, I'll FINALLY be able to move back into my room!  Keep your fingers crossed!  What else? Well, I've been in this incredibly "sappy" mood.  Love stories, poems about love, loss, heart-break, wild, uninhibited sex (no, no, not me.  just stuff I'm writing about.  I'm living the life of a nun remember???)  I suppose being in this mood is better than being angry or frustrated or both.  I choose sappy instead. Besides, if you put an "h" in place of the "s", what does it spell????  HAPPY! :)

Putting this blog post out of it's misery. G'night!

Just Words...

Hearts flutter
Pulse races
Familiarity
Same territory
Emotions
So much time has passed
but the minute we connect
all of that disappears
And nothing else matters
but you
and me.

No promises made
We breathe each other in
Only you and I exist

Time is running out
We cling to each other
Who knows if there will be a next time
My heart starts to break

Love so cruel.

Hanging Drapes On My Car Windows

I've been living like a Gypsy, a night at my sister's house, a weekend at a friend's house, another night at one of my brothers' homes and well, you get the picture.  For the past three weeks this has been my life and it doesn't seem like it's going to end anytime soon.  You'd think I was living out of my car.  I have clothes, toiletries and all kinds of shoes in the backseat of my car.  Some are in duffel bags, some clothes are on hangers and some stuff is just strewn about.  Sigh, Operation Remodeling is a pain in the ass!   Day 22 and they are putting in the new tile.  I dropped by this evening to pick up even more clothes and to look at the progress.  "So how much longer do you think this is going to take?" I asked rather impatiently, but sprinkled with politeness.  The head guy, whatever he's called, looked up at me, as he continued to work with his hands on the floor.  Beads of sweat covered his face. "You should be able to move back in by this weekend.  Maybe.  No, probably."  Ugh! Such a tease! In that millisecond, I went from jubilant to hopeful to let down.  Kinda like my dates.  I digress.   I mumbled pleasantries and left.

I miss my bed.  I miss my routine.  My stress level is sky high.  Sigh, this too shall pass, right? Right.

That's the update kids. I know you were waiting on bated breath.  Maybe. No, probably.

just your average midnightish ramblings

longing
wanting
kisses
body
yours.

a dream.