Some Girls Mothers are Bigger Than Other Girls Mothers

I’ve been thinking about what would be the best way for me to describe the nature of my relationship with my mother. I’m not entirely sure where to start. Do you start at "I was born" ? Or do I describe my mother’s relationship with my grandmother in an attempt to discern why she has chosen to raise me in the way she has? I’m entirely unsure.

I think, upon reflection, the very best way of describing my mothers relationship with me, and maybe mine with my grandmother even, who has also played mother to me as I have matured, is to describe this past week with them. Before I start, though, I should point out one thing. I love my mother. I do. I know that this is going to be tinged with cynicism at my mother’s ideas. I have a lot of contempt for the way she lives her life. I have a lot of contempt for the way she raised me, and the way she treats me still. But I love her and would hate for something to happen to her. It took me a lot of time [and a fair bit of therapy] to discover that I love my mother, but I do not like her. I’m firm in the belief that this does not make me a bad person but it does explain a lot of my guilt issues regarding my mother. I do, however, think it is perfectly acceptable to feel the way I do. You probably ought to jump ship here if you’re of the belief that because your mother bore you she deserves for you to like her unconditionally. We’ll agree to disagree.

As I posted previously, I took my mother out for Mothers Day on Tuesday because I have to work this Sunday, which is the actual holiday. Per usual I let her pick the place we were going to eat. I was unsurprised that she chose a particular Italian restaurant in our town, she chooses it every time I take her out to dinner or for a holiday. I arrived about five minutes early and wandered into the lobby with her gift and sat down. She was 20 minutes late. [Incidentally, in this 20 minutes I spoke extensively about wine with our delightful waiter - he as far too knowledgeable for being as young as he was, but - there you have it.] I confess myself mildly annoyed with her for showing up late. We had pushed forward the time for our dinner when she called me earlier in the day and asked if I minded so that her dinner with me did not prevent her from missing American Idol. [No - really- that’s what she said] So, mom = late. Me = annoyed.

She finally arrives and we get settled in. I order wine, she has a daiquiri and she settles in for our meal. She broaches what I like to call "easy" topics first. These are the topics that generally do not annoy me, or that annoy me less than some of her other favorite subjects. She asks me what classes I am taking in school; "Sociology? Are you sure you can understand it?"
What I plan on doing with my degree; "A teacher? You’re about to rack up $10k in debt and you want to teach? Do you like to be poor?"

And, of course, my writing; "Is your novel done? Why won’t you give me your blog address? What kind of people read your blog? Are they all...you know, like you?"

I dive into my glass of wine and cheerfully inform her that I also took Sociology in high school and understood it just fine, that college professors [especially in my field] made decent money as well as having a rewarding career and that my novel was still not finished but I would be happy to discuss with her what I write about on my blog and what my delightfully diverse group of commenters think [respectively].

With the preliminaries out of the way my mother launches into her second favorite subject - our family. The first thing she does is ask after my Aunt A [lets call her Priestess], whom I am spending a lot of time with lately. Now, on surface this may seem very kind and decent of my mother, to inquire about her youngest sister. Its not. No one in my family ever asks casually about a relative out of the kindness of their heart. Its to get information to report to each other and to gossip about. My mother, the oldest of her sisters, does this especially often because it is her duty to report family gossip to my grandmother. Back top the point, though, my mother asks after Priestess very casually. I tell her she is fine. She asks, more bluntly, about some personal changes Priestess has made in her life lately, especially with regards to her personal beliefs. Before I can reply she looks at me suspiciously and asks why I have been spending so much time with her lately. I skip the first question because its really not my place to talk to her about it.

"Priestess and I have a lot of similar views. We talk about them. She and I also share a lot of the same personal problems, and its nice to have someone in a similar situation to talk to about it."
My mother blithely observes, "Priestess isn’t a lesbian."

I nearly choke on my bread and I set it down and reply, after a coughing fit, that its not a problem for me either.

"Of course its not," she says snidely before cheerfully changing the subject to [and mark this, Ka, and the other people I’ve been discussing this - it seems like the topis of the month] whether or not Priestess still has an eating disorder. I would like to note this is a problem that Priestess and I have both discusses, as we both struggle from time to time over this issue. I begin to make a comment about how it takes support and love to get through something like that, and that we support each other, or something of the like; but I never get to finish it. My mother then launches into a lengthy account of how Priestess, my aunt Dancer, and my Grandmother all had eating disorders, and how terrible they were, and what exactly the she knew about them, and how she could tell how hard it was on them. She finally pronounces,

"Its no wonder you got one too. Everyone gets them in our family. Its genetic."

I try not to be angry about they way she talks about it, casually, as though its not a big deal that three generations of our family have suffered with body image issues. I delicately point out to her that someone [anyone] should have talked to said aunts or my grandmother, or me for that matter, about it.. If they noticed the habit they should have helped them with it. I then firmly tell her Priestess is doing well, and that if she cares so much about it, and her condition, that she should talk to her about it herself. My mom replies with our family motto:

"Everyone already knows. Why talk about it? That’s uncomfortable."

Of course.

As my mother eats her salad she prattles on about my aunts, their bad habits now, and as teenagers, and how in general we are a maladjusted, completely screwed up bunch of women. I try to change the subject and steer her in a new direction. I tell her about Beloved making the Deans List and being invited to join National Honor Society. She doesn’t reply so I tell her about the trip we took to the synagogue with her class on Jewish Americans. I tell her about the service, about the service, the Purim holiday and my chats with her professor and the rabbi, who was a fantastic lady. I also tell her about the discussion I had with the professor about how her class was having a hard time coping with the idea that "you can not believe in god, but still be a good Jew" In essence, the idea that religion is a lifestyle guide as well as a spiritual guide for them.

Have you spotted my mistake? If you’ve ever discussed my mother with me you likely have.

"What! So you don’t believe in God anymore, is that it?" she demands haughtily.

"I didn’t say that. I said I thought it was an interesting concept."

"I’m sure hell will be interesting too."

"I just made a point that its an interesting idea. It’s a fascinating religion."

"Well, I’ve been studying a lot of religions"

Has she? It turns out she can’t understand Buddhism. [It doesn’t make sense!] Catholics creep her out [Did you know they believe funny things, not like a normal Christian religion] but not so much as the Jehovah Witnesses who *apparently* believe Jesus and Lucifer were bothers. She also doesn’t personally agree with the idea of Scientology, but "Tom Cruise and John Travolta are great actors"

It’s a wonder I am even halfway normal, isn’t it?

All of these religions are wrong, of course, but fascinating to my mother. I think for her its like watching ants in a magnifying glass - it’s a better study of action when you know the fire is moments away. I manage to wriggle out of telling her too much about Priestess’s spiritual beliefs and I dodge the discussion of mine almost completely, outside of me admitting there is a god [notice I don’t capitalize the "g" though] This is a good thing, despite the fact that I shouldn’t have to hide my beliefs, because I have a hard time explaining the exact nature of my beliefs to someone open minded. I hope you’ve gathered by now that my mother isn’t one of those people.
I sigh with relief as the waiter returns with our food [bless him, he refills my wine glass with a pitying look, I know he’s caught some of the conversation.] and my mother changes the topic to her favorite topic of all. Her.

"Well, I haven’t been doing well at all. I wish you wanted to talk about problems with me. I could use some advice, really."

"Mmm?" I ask through my mouthful of pasta.

"Well, first of all, 3.0 and I are having problems. [3.0 is, you guessed it, her third husband] I just can’t understand why he acts like this."

"Like what?"

"Well, he’s not come home for three nights."

"Did you call the police? Is her hurt?"

"Well, no, we had a fight over your brother," she sighs.

She is referring to Punk, my 22 year old brother who still lives with her. I’ve discussed him a few times, but I can review the highlights. He is a drug addict and alcoholic. She pays his bills, gives him gas money, pays the insurance on his car, gives him an allowance, cooks for him, does his laundry, etc. In general, he has a huge case of failure to launch and she allows it, and I honestly think encourages it. He has a terrible temper and my mother will do anything to keep him from getting angry. There’s been more than once she’s tried to get Beloved and I to let them "hide" at my house for a few nights so he could "calm down" at theirs.

"I see. And so he left?"

"He said he wasn’t coming home until I did something about him. So I kicked your brother out."

"You did?" I ask skeptically. She’s said she’s going to for the last 4 years now.

"Well, I told him he had to be out of the house by the end of the week."

"Uh, huh. Did you tell 3.0 this?"

"Yes, but he’s still mad."

"Why?"

"Well, I told him I thought he was irresponsible too."

I nod, waiting for the bomb to drop.

"Well, I paid off the Visa, and he charges it up again. He sold his car and bought a motorcycle. And he wants to quit his job because he doesn’t like it. And he wants to sell the house. He says we can’t afford it."

"Wow." I say. What else do you say?

"So, what do you think I should do?" she asks.

"Mom, I don’t know." I shake my head. I really want to tell her that mother’s don’t ask marital and financial advice from their 24 year old unmarried daughters.

"Well! You have advice for your Aunt Priestess, but none for me?"

"Mom, its not advice...and, well...I mean, can’t you go see a counselor?"

"Well, I suppose we could. Maybe talk to our pastor."

"That’s a good idea mom."

"Yeah, I’ve been thinking of it for a while now...."

I stare into my dinner and try desperately to think of a topic she and I can talk about that won’t want to make me drink another glass of wine [I have to drive, after all]. I end up lost in trivial prattle about American Idol and other TV shows until I order dessert.

"Get something mom." I encourage. She never eats desserts.

"No, I don’t think so. Those are so fattening. I’m down to a size 6 you know."

I fight the urge to tell her there’s no way she’s a size six [I’m a size 10 or 12 most days, if you care].

"So? There’s fruity stuff on there, its not all chocolate and mousse. I’m getting some."
"You are?" she looks at me critically.

"I am." I say defiantly. I give our order to our waiter. He smiles at me reassuringly, as though he is telling me I won’t get fat and ugly with a single dessert, and promptly brings it out for me. When he hands me the bill as well she looks at me.

"Do you have the money to pay for this?" She asks.

"Of course," I reply. At this point it is surely the wine and nothing else that is keeping me from murdering her. She’s implying I don’t make enough money to take care of myself. Or that’s what it sounds like to me.

I walk my mother out to her car. [As a side note, the waiter made my night, and told me quietly as we were leaving that he thought I was "lovely" dessert or no dessert. I could have kissed him.] She hugs me and tells me to call her and gets in the car and drives away. I heave a sigh of relief as I climb into my truck and head home.

My Grandmother calls the next day. I think to myself I can gloat, because I assume she is calling to remind me of mother’s day. [She calls and reminds me of every holiday and to go visit my mother, as if I can’t remember] But she has apparently spoken to my mother already and is calling for another reason.

"You don’t need to go telling Priestess that your mother’s marriage has started to fall apart. Your mother is devastated you know."

I take a moment to quietly fume.

"Why would I tell Priestess?" I demand.

"Well, I know you two spend time together, and I know you’re close...I just don’t want anyone laughing at your mother, you know. She’s had a hard time."

"And you think I would tell her, and laugh about it?" I try not to shout.

"Well, sweetheart, you know..." she trails off.

"Is this the only reason you called?" I ask.

"No!" she replies quickly. "I wanted to tell you thank you for taking your mother out. She had a nice time."

"That’s good," I reply.

"You should take her out more often."

"Grandma, I don’t have the money or the energy to take her out on a weekly basis and buy her dinner."

"Your mother told me you were making a lot of money at that restaurant."

"I do, but I have to pay bills, and save for school and pay off my truck loan. Things like that."

"Well, doesn’t Beloved help?"

At this point I am nearly ready to scream.

"Of course she does! She supported me while I was unemployed. She takes good care of me. But, and mom should learn this, since her and 3.0 are having financial trouble, you can’t live beyond your means. I’d like to have a nest egg in case something comes up."

"Alright, sweetie, alright. You know, you should spend more time with your mother though, she won’t be around forever..."

"Okay, Grandma," I give in wearily. There’s no point arguing.

"Gran?" I ask

"Yes?"

"Did she really kick Punk out?"

"Well, I know she told him he needs to start thinking of a place to go in the next few months. He has to find a place and get himself under control first, you know. He’s got a bit of a problem, with the drinking and alcohol, you know."

"Its an addiction and he needs help and she needs to stop enabling him."

"Well, honey, he knows he has a problem. There’s no point in saying something."

See? There we go again...

"But he’s not going to be out by the end of the week?"

"No! Its cruel to think that about your brother."

I thought not. Bet me money, friends, he’ll be living with her st Christmas, still.

"Well, Gran, I better go..."

"So you aren’t going to talk to Priestess?"

"No, Grandma."

"Alright, well, take care sweetie."

She hangs up the phone. I try not to throw mine. This is like every interaction I have had with my mom and Grandmother since I’ve started to see Beloved. Since then, I say, because I was completely unaware that this wasn’t normal family behavior until I met her and her family. Its since then that I have noticed the way they think. And its only since then that I noticed how mean they can be. When I was younger I would have thought nothing of my mother telling me I would have been so pretty, if it weren’t for my glasses. [and she said this several times] I only felt ashamed I was so ugly. I know better now. And being around them wears me down. A lot.

At this point I regret to say I am too tired for further analysis. You do it, . Tell me I’m wrong in the way I feel. Hwo would you feel were you me?

Thats the Story of My Life

This is a rant on memories and pain.

[I should note, in passing, and this is actually a postscript, that this is written like a letter, to the mythic You, to the one who animates and inspires my writing. I may not speak to you, specifically, or you as a group, or you as a blogger or my reader, or my friend. I only write to You, the anonymous confessor of my evening. I should name my computer You, for the sake of it, I might be writing to it for all I know. So I write. To You. ]

I’m lost in the space between my stars.

I’ve got that feeling again. That low, sinking feeling in between my heart and my stomach. Like the setting sun it burns. It sinks, and as it goes lower and lower, as I fall, I shimmer, I tremble, and somewhere inside the lights go out. Instead of that light, inside me, there are a million shimmering stars. Thousands upon thousands of pinpricks,, each shimmering stars. Thousands upon thousands of pinpricks, each bleeding and shining minutely. Each one painful. Each one very real. But the spaces between them, like the stars- those are the places where despair, hope and longing wait for me. Each moment connected by the infinite wait for the next.

Each memory, each ghost of moments lost - they pull at me behind my eyes. And I think to myself, how much longer? How much time, how much space is there between your mouth and mine? Between words? Between a kiss? A confession of love? An utterance of disgust and despise? Have you ever thought about it? The eternity between the interaction of you and I?
Imagine for a moment - close your eyes and think of it - think of something you want to say to me. Think hard, of something you might never voice. Think if you love me. If you secretly loathe me but find me inescapable, if you think I am utterly crazy. Think of telling me you want to have sex with me, or that I’ve hurt you in a terrible inexpressible way. Whisper it aloud. Just now. Away from my ears. I’ll never hear you. Now think of the time between those words, and were I there, my reaction. A word, a kiss, a sigh, a tear.

Now you’ve seen my response, my imagined response. Take the time in between. Each moment between "I love you" or "I can’t think of you without thinking of despair" - whatever you’ve said - and my response. Each of those moments stretch for the eternity that now lasts between what you’ve said and my real response [which of course will never come, because I haven’t heard you] That is like the starry spaces. Each of our moments connected by an eternity that will never be broached. And between them, think if you can, how you would feel, waiting for my response. Would you be fearful? Would you worry? Would you think of the last person you loved? A woman who had inspired in you a similar rage or passion? Would you think of the look on my face, my reaction? Would you imagine tears or passion and then live in that moment or idea for a time, however brief?

To me, that is the sinking feeling, the waiting of the setting sun. Between each experience, between each time I write, between each time I talk to you or write for you or tell you how I feel, that is what it is like for me. And the sinking, the lowering, is almost too much to bear sometimes.

Sometimes I think of you, of something you have said, and in a moment, in a glance, it reminds me of a thousand other things. Do you feel that too, my love? Do you feel it? When you hear a word what is the image that comes to mind. Are there several? Can you keep up with them all? How do you sort which one you think of and which one you ignore. For me, sometimes, it is the terrible, the horrors that come to mind. Simple things - innocuous little things - become grotesque and frightening in the kaleidoscope of my life experience. And it not that life is always frightening or terrible. Not at all. Its that the frightening and terrible make their way to the forefront more easily.

Shall I give you examples? Of course I shall. You’re reading, not writing, and if you’re still here - if my ramblings have not run you off by now - you are likely here for one of two reasons, the train wreck of my existence is too much to look away from, or I make so much sense that you must know something of what I am talking about. That or you love me, but I shan’t ask for that - affection comes at a high price too often doesn’t it?

I could talk about my favorite subject - sex - but that’s something you are all too familiar with when it comes to me. You know horrors, you know pain, you know pleasure at my hands when it comes to that subject. And I confess, I know horror, I know pain and I know infinite pleasure on that subject as well. When I think of it, do I think of bondage and how much I enjoy it? Do I think of the times I was bound against my will, held tight? Still, when it comes to that subject in particular, you know as well as I that I can dwell extensively on the pleasurable aspects of it. Have I had lovers who have written me letters to make me tremble? Certainly. Have I been moved by love, by something as simple as sex, to the point it brought me to tears? Those moments are countless. There are caresses I relive in my dreams. There are words I cannot forget and refuse to let go. Still, even then, when I am alone, staring at a blank screen getting ready to write or holding my pillow as I go to sleep - staring into the dark - there are moments that tear through me unbidden. There are memories I would scour from my brain if I had sense at all, and they replay themselves over, and over, and over.

Something more simple, maybe?
Ice Cream. Easy enough isn’t it? My grandmother used to make ice cream floats from sodas and
chocolate ice cream when I was a little girl. I liked the foam. A simple, happy thought. But then you think grandmother, and I progress to grandfather, who drove me and my brother to a dairy queen once and when we were leaving we were in a car accident. I remember the look of my cone in the floor of the car, melting on the rubber floor mats, the sounds of my brother crying, the cracked windshield, the blood, my grandfather cursing, being lifted up by hands of someone I didn’t know....and I get lost in the thoughts of car accidents I have been in. But then I shake myself, I say no - ice cream, ice cream can be happy. I think of ice cream sundaes and of summertime and church camp. I think of driving to the local ice cream parlor and meeting my classmate R when I was a little girl for her birthday. I remember having ice cream and sandwiches and giving her a gift. But I remember then that her friends laughed because I didn’t have much money. They didn’t want me there because I wasn’t wearing the right clothes. She told her mom to take me home after she and her friends checked the label in my shirt and didn’t like the brand. I shake my head again and remember that after I lost my virginity my boyfriend took me out for ice cream. He laughed, asked for extra cherries on my sundae.

And it seems it is like this on any subject. You could send me a word, a feeling, and were I to sit, and think, to let my mind wander from thought to thought, from experience to experience, I would have moments like this.

This is what life is, isnt it? When I say to you ‘love’ or ‘pain’ or ‘fear’ there is a word or a thought or feeling that goes through you and it is the sum of your life experiences manifesting themselves in a single action. But if I let you go, I wonder, would you do the same as I do? Would you feel that inexplicable pull down, as your memories stretched infinitely? Would you take time to wonder, to rearrange those moments into realities that will never happen because you spoke, thought or moved wrong at a particular time or place? I think you would. I hope you do. I’d like to think I am not alone in those feelings.

I wonder how much of my experience, of my life and my decisions are shaped by these thoughts. I wonder, now that I think of it, how often it happens, that I let my day, my mood, my time go because I get lost in the eternity of memory and lost chances. Of maybes and should haves.

Ka asked me a question, in the meme, and it was along the lines of would I trade my sorrows for calm, if it meant giving up all my joys. I knew my answer immediately. That was the strange thing. Even without the thought of giving up all my joy. I would not trade my sorrows, even were it just for calm, and I was still able to experience joy. I couldn’t. This is the thing that frightens me just a little about myself. I chalk it up to the artist in me. The sensualist in me. You [or any normal person] might chalk it up to neurosis, to psychological damage, to vanity or something equally more likely.

When I feel these moments, the moments that pull me down, or that overwhelm, or frighten, those are moments that I feel very much alive. That is not to say that I do not love my moments of ecstasy. That isn’t to say there aren’t moments that I want nothing more than to linger in the gaze or words of a friend or love. I do, I love those moments, with every bit of me. Still, tell me those moments are surreal. If you do care for me, even a little, if you have ever entertained meeting me, [or, if this is difficult for you, think of someone you do know or have met from our little world] think for a second of what it would be like tp meet me at last. To spend a day lingering in our friendship, in our affection for each other, talking as if we were going to go on seeing each other each day, or loving each other or be friends forever. Think of how the sunlight would feel, the coffee would taste, the air would smell. It would be surreal, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t seem like it was actually happening. And recalling that moment, from the time ever after that, wouldn’t the memory soften around the edges, become something of a dream itself?

But when I think of that pain, when I relive it- When I blink away the tears, when I feel the searing in my chest, the anger that inevitably comes or fades with time, those are the moments I treasure. Here’s why - I am alive. I know I am. I know that I have been through it, I have gone on. And I am here living, reliving that terrible pain or heartbreak. It was real then, and the fact that I still feel it, the fact that I know pain at its recollection - those reassure me I am real and I am still what I ought to be. Because I am still warm enough to suffer. I am still hard enough to be angry and want to fight those memories away. I am still frightened by the thought of it happening again. And I am more certain with each thought, with each memory, of the things and people I love now. I am certain of what I would fight for. I am convinced of my love more soundly. I am more protective.

That feeling, that moment, that remembering...it passes through me like a song I’ve heard that moves me. It gets in my skin, it circles my heart, it passes through me and I am still there when its over. I would not trade my love, my life, anything....to get rid of them. I hate those memories, don’t get me wrong. I don’t like to relive them. I don’t. But when they do, when they fight their way unbidden to my mind I am saddened, yes, but after I have cried, when I have dried my eyes and lifted my head, I am emboldened for a moment - and proud of myself for being more than that moment for the rest of my own eternity.

Does that make sense? I’ve rambled into oblivion tonight. Forgive me. As for you - I will not leave my feelings unsaid. I cannot go without it tonight - I do not want the moment to fade before I’ve said how I honestly feel right now....

I love you. I hate you. There are moments I cannot stand to be near you and then moments when I feel like all I can do is cling to the comfort you give me. I am frightened of you. I am unsure when I am with you. I am unsure of myself. I am unsure of you. I am unsure of everything. I never know exactly what to say. I never know if I am doing the right thing when I am with you. Sometimes I want to sleep with you, I want to see what you look like when you are feeling passionate. There are moments that you repulse me and I cannot believe I have any affection for you at all. You always know more than I do. You always make me wonder. You always inspire me. I will say this, I am grateful for you. For each moment you give me. You make me think. You make me wish. You make me long. You make me feel. It is you that rouses me from my lethargy. And you are the one who drives me to share with you, even when I am afraid of the reaction you will give. Even when I know you may not love me the way you once did. But I love you, and I appreciate you, and I forgive you.

As you forgive me.

Goodnight, loves, I am worn out. Confession is done. Amen.

[As a second post script - wow. Three posts, one day...sex, misery, angst....you’d almost think things were back to normal....]

So I guess I'll just stand here with my back against a wall

I have to take a moment to break the cycle of cheerfullness that is normally me anymore. [because I have been better, lately, havent I? giving compliments puts me in a good mood] but I have to talk about something I saw on Ka's blog, or rather, something that got stuck in my head when I was over at Ka's.

Weight.

If you've been round for any decent length of time you know I used to have an eating disorder. When I was 18-19 I weighed about 85/90 lbs. I'm 5'9" you do the math. I'm not talking about this now because I want you all to cheer me on and tell me its good I'm all better, I don't want you to say I'm better off now. I know all that.

What I do want you to do is take a decent look at this list of medial side effects of starving yourself:

Low blood pressure
An abnormally slow heart rate
Reduced bone density, often resulting in osteoporosis
Muscle loss and weakness
Dehydration, sometimes leading to kidney failure
Dry and brittle hair and skin
Retarded growth
Death

think, for just a moment, what I must have looked like. Or picture yourself, or a loved one, looking jsut that thin. Its terrible. Its frightening.

And it makes me sick to death of all the people who feel like they have to diet, or comment on other people's weights. It frightens me to think that we're so obsessed with obesity we test infants. It bothers me that women and men feel like they need to make rules for themselves about how much and when and why htey should or shouldn't eat.

I support a healthy diet, don't get me wrong. Food pyramid, all that, its good.

But when I get out of the shower and I still look a long time at myself and worry about my weight I disappoint myself. I can hardly weigh myself without thinking of how much I want to lose. I still wish I cold wear smaller clothes. And I wonder if it wasn't a bad idea, sometimes, to skip a meal or two....It never goes away, this obsession with being something perfect or unreal or to become this idea of ourselves that we have in our heads. I tear up thinking of all the women and men who will do what I did and not eat. They'll feel hunger pains and their bodies will break down. And they'll tell themselves they deserve it because they are "fat" I know they will. I did it.

We have a problem. A serious, serious problem.

I look at myself and I know I am not going to be what I want. My hair isnt long and black. I am not made of muscle. I'll never weigh 110 again. I am not going to ever fit into a size 2. I am not a goddess. I am not perfect. I can't be and its unreasnable for me to hold myself to such a standard. I don't deserve that kind of torture, no matter how big or different I may become.

I hope you know that. I hope when you dream, when you close your eyes, its the real you that you see, and not the twisted ideal I see when I sleep, that so many people see when they close their eyes.

Love yourself. Love yourself. You should. You're worth it. Every ounce of you.

I do.

AG

She's burning in your soul

Alright, to the comments first, and then, maybe, something new? What do you think? [I'm afraid at this point it won't matter, will it. Read on, though]

Leah, thanks for the tissues. I needed them. I went and got some antibiotics and am feeling much better after having nearly passed out and work on Friday and spending Saturday off work and recovering [much to my annoyance]. As for the work stories, I'll be sure to tell you some now, although, my dear, I am hardly transformative about my life, this is honestly it. Sometimes it doesnt really sound real, does it? I tell stories about my family sometmes, and people dont think I am telling the truth...Of course, all real life needs is a little perspective, eh?

Ka, wow. I'm blushing. I may steal your description on #1 for my profile! How's that for vain? Wouldn't it be fun if we could write eachother's profiles? I suppose it could go both ways...you could get something lke you wrote for me, or something like "Bit of a whiner, self important, has terrible taste in films" or the like. How heartbreaking would that be? Sounds like the making of a meme to me, write your friend's profiles...haha. Who gets the closest to the truth without flattery or heartbreak? Haha. Maybe not...sometimes I like you [and everyone else] for how kind you are, and how blindly you love. If I wanted criticism I suppose I'd talk to my mother...

Still, darling, you really are too kind. Thank you, though. I'm curious, what picture did you see of me for the first time? And why do I live on [apparently] the only state on the planet where I am not considered a knockout? You lot are inflating my ego....AS for the stories - email me. I'll be thrilled to chat to you. You're so fascinating to me [in a personal way, not a microscope and slides kind of way. its a good thing, I promise]

Incidentally, has someone let slip my mad love for dancing on speakers? I never thought I'd gone that far in talking about things I love to do, and I assure you, its my favorite spot at the local club. When I'm there my name is practically written on it! *hugs* A kindred spirit. Now, really, who told you I loved to dance? Oh! and its a date if you're ever my way, I promise.

Oh, last thing - No, I'd never trade away my sorrows. They are the measure for my joys, the measure for my calms and the moments when I most understand what I am made of. All of my sorrows are the sum of the strength [or lack of it] that I have. I wouldn't trade them, any of them, despite the horrors of some of those moments, for anything. I couldn't be the person who has a beautiful, raw, unadulterated, poetic, spiritual, carnal soul [as you put it] if I didn't.

Shorty - my MSN is wonky at home and I've been using AIM when I am online, which, regrettably is not very often...How are you holding up? I know you've been through the ringer lately. Maybe you're another I need to email. I've been thinking of you a lot lately. I'm a terrible friend sometimes. I promise, you've been on my mind.

Flash - I have no doubt you're built to be a rock star, but still, I suppose, hmmm. I dunno a better way to phrase that question, so I'll let it go. Next time I'll think of a better one, won't I?

Aravis - I am never tired of your sweetness.

Spinny - Certainly, stories...and what were you sending me? I've not gotten anything yet....

Alright....*sigh* a story, maybe?

I suppose I could tell you about Big and Stupid, how she earned her name. Or I could tell you about some of my customers, bless them. Or what it is like, in general, to work there? Are we wanting funny quirks of co-workers [like our kitchen manager who has an odd game involving song lyrics?] Does this appeal to you at all?

How about a description, and you can then tell me things you are interested in.

My store is just up the corner from the biggest tourist attraction in our area. [If you know where I live you'll nearly be able to pinpoint my exact location now, kids] Its a family restaurant that specilizes in breakfast being served 24 hours. because there aren't enough of those in the world. Its layout, if you can imagine, is a huge rectangle.

In the front left corner as you look at it there is a tiny square shaped entry with doors on both walls. Inside you come to a foyer where the restaurant extends slightly forward to form what we call the Lenai. Then there is a counter and a wait high oak wood wall separating the rest of the store. The rest of the tables are on the other side of this wall. The store is done in dark greens and homey fruit borders, like apples and baskets of grapes. The drapes are gaudy and the carpet reminds me vaguely of a casino.

The inside looks a lot like this [mind you, this is not the one I work in, its one of the other franchise ones.....]

But you get the general idea. Only we keep the shades open so its always really bright in there. It smells perpetually of muffins and omlettes. [As do I, anymore] The back of the restaurant is tiled and boring as any other restaurant might be, although, because of the bakery, our galley smells a lot like chocolate and pies and cookies and muffins. Especially muffins.

There are always people there. Always. Even at 5 am or midnight we have people there. There's a local dive bar across the parking lot, so we get all sorts. Sundays are interesting because we are close to a couple *huge* churches. [my town has more churches than you can shake a stick at, and there's some that are big enough they have gymnasiums and pools and workout centers, and the like] so there's always a ton of church people in on Sunday.

We serve food on huge oval shaped trays. They get really hot and so I carry a manky brown potholder [the stores, not mine] to keep from frying my hands completely. They don't work all the time. I wear black pants and a mens white stsrched dress shirt to work with a company apron [gag] and a little pin denoting the fact that I have had a hospitality award [already!] and one that looks like pancakes to symbolize the tradition of my stores history. I also have a little nametag that has "Alecya" printed on it neatly. I get an engraved one after 6 months *shivers with anticipation*

Everyone who works at my store are supposed to be considered my family, my General Manager, Flower, told me when I started working. And they are too! They are unususally affectionate, as I pointed out before. And they get in eachother's business to. They know who's making thier bills, who has boyfriends, husband trouble, or incurable diseases. [We have someone who has MS in our store] They whisper about work ethic and friends and nonsense like that. I had one girl, Fruity [store nic - not mine] walk up to me about a month after I'd been there and say to me [Im quoting the converstation]

"are you married?"
"no"
"do you have a boyfriend?"
"no"
"Do you like anybody?"
"no"
No, not like, employees, just, anybody"
"no, I dont have time"
"That's boring"
"I suppose"

So there you have it, I'm boring. Of course, I picked up a little bit of a religious overtone, and a little homophobia from some of the servers. I keep quiet about my personal life. Besides if they dont think I have one, they cant pry, can they? I've even had people ask me how much money I am averaging. [I dont usually tell unless I am in a terrible mood and I want to make someone cry, but suffice to say, I am doing more than fine] Very very nosey.

Alright. So that's a bit of my store. There's a crane game in one corner where people try to catch stuffed animals, a sticker machine in the square shaped lobby between the doors, and two paper machines outside - one for local paper and one for USA today.

Maybe, next time, I will tell you things I learn about people on smoke breaks? [I take them, although I don't smoke - is five free minutes to decompress for me....] You hear the oddest things. People are so willing to talk when they're smoking.....

Tell me what you think, what you want....

xx
AG

you're an explosion

What a week. I've also been sick. my allergies have caused my nose to run, my eyes to water, my voice to flee and my asthma to reappear for the first time in nearly 6 years. I'm on *lots* of medecine, so I am more than a little loopy. I am glad I am taking the morning off. I work tonight.

You know, I know I've never told you all much about my work. Much about the people I work with. I'm curious if you want to know much about the people I work with. Its like a little soap opera, only I try not to get too involved. I just watch. And sometimes, laugh. And then again, sometimes, fume. I had a big even last night at work, so I better strap you in on some of the players eh?

My bosses [there are two] are Flower, as she is named for a flower and it couldn't be more appropriate, and Pet My Hair, as, again, she likes to have done. I won't lie, the first time I saw her being petted by the other girls it freaked me out...its just not normal. All the young women in my store are physically affectionate to the point of strangeness, and I confess, being what I am, and them not knowing, it freaks me out.

There are also three service leaders - Tall, Loud and Beloved's Cousin.

I'll get into the other staff as I have time, but these are the hightlights:

My Brother's Name, who is a cook, and could be Flash for all I know. He plays in a decent local/reigonal rock band, is funny, and thanks to me now likes Ani DiFranco. We chat about music on my breaks. Nice guy. Who happens to have the same name as my brother.

Diamond Stud, who was my first trainer, and very sweet. She is so called for the ornament she wears in her nose, and refuses to take out. She's very sarcastic, and funny, and I liked her right away. Again [and see how this happens?] she likes the same music I do, so we get along well.

Laid Back Blonde, my other trainer, is just that. She's also very direct. And when she's angry - watch out. We both have a vendetta for

Big and Stupid, our new hostess who has frayed my every last nerve since her first day. A liar, a lazy person and in general obnoxious presence in my otherwise relatively happy restaurant existence. I'm going to kill her one day, so you lot need to start deciding who will hide me when I being my life on the run.

Anyway. If you want I've a thousand stories about work alreayd, and if it doesnt bore you to death I'll tell you all about it. There's also some other very tricky characters I'll be sure to share with you. My big concern last night was with Pet My Hair and Beloved'sCousin.

Turns out Beloved's Cousin outed me to Pet My Hair. She wanted to talk about it outside while she was smoking. She says to me "I'm very open minded" I told her I was fine with that but it wasn't something I wanted to talk about. She said she didn't care and she wanted me to be happy because she really likes me, and she wouldnt tell anyone else. She went on the rest of the night hugging and kissing and being sweet like she normally is, and not acting at all any different.

I am relieved, I suppose, but I feel half angry at Beloved's cousin for outing me. Thats not cool.

Alright, on to more entertaining things, like you, and my meme that is doing well. *hurrah!*

Flash
1. The way you talk. [meaning, the turn of phrase when you write, I suppose]
2. I Bet You Look Good on The Dancefloor, Arctic Monkeys
3. Listen to records
4. Bloody crying shame
5. I remember the comments you used to leave on other people’s blogs. They made me laugh. I thought you were really endearing.
6. “The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions” Alfred Lord Tennyson
7. Do you think you’d be any different [personality] if you became a rockstar tomorrow?

Adem
1. You always make me smile.
2. I can’t think of a specific song, but I’m relatively sure it would be by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. That’s kind of the feel I get from you.
3. Drink a beer
4. Alas, a lack on inside jokes. Can you put my banner up for me? Or send me intructions?
5. You randomly showed up on my blog and left a comment that made my day.
6. “Charm is the quality in others that makes us more satisfied with ourselves” Henri Amiel
7. How tall are you?

Ka
1. You’re incredibly genuine
2. “I can’t make you love me” Bonnie Raitt
3. Sit and chat over a beverage of your choice
4. *sighs* I should have left this question out, I think.
5. I remember thinking that *everyone* likes you. I’ve never seen a blogger who knows you that isnt completely taken with your sweetness. I mean that.
6. “There is no remedy for love but to love more” Henry David Thoreau
7. How do you manage not to be completely overwhelmed with all you do?

Alright then, now I think there's a good bit of you that owe me one now. Email it to me, if you're shy, because I want to know what you think. Because I am vain like that.

kisses to all of you
xxxxxxx
ag

The pleasure, the privilege is mine

Alright, first, the meme continued [oh, this is fun]

SwissToni-
1. Your sunglasses
2. Anything by The Smiths, especially "Some Girls are Bigger than Others"
3. Take a long walk. Have tea.
4. What sound does a tiger make?
5. This one is a tie- I used to have to go through other people's blogs to find yours before I bookmarked it. When you asked me to do your earworm list.
6. "Clarity of mind means clarity of passion, too; this is why a great and clear mind loves ardently and sees distinctly what it loves" Blaise Pascal
7. This one is hard...I think I know all those off the wall ones...hmm. Okay - food you like least in the world. [not fair, is it?]

Spinny - thank you! You're right, I do understand. Its always nice to have an unspoken connection with someone, I think. And you are, or to me you are, very very gentle. As far as your question, as soon as I get the money I suppose! I've got a long list of places to go and visit, and an even longer list of bills *sigh* One day....I'm taking time off and going to visit everyone! And you all are loves, especially you. I'd be lying if I said I wasnt very attached to my readers. You give me balance and perspective. And more than one of you have become very good friends to me, so of course I call you all loves.

Aravis - I wondered about the stickers! I love your quote. If I could do anything? Haha, travel...go visit Spinny...and everyone else! For a job [I think this is what you mean] teach and write, so, I suppose, in about 10 years, I 'll be doing it with any luck. Thats something to look forward to isnt it?

Any other takers?

I am working a night shift tonight. Lord, I hope it goes well. I dont work a lot of nights.

Also went shopping for my mom's mother's day gift...I hope she likes it. I am making her a gift basket...a pedicure set, some masks and bubble bath, chocolates, coffees, candles a teddy bear and two really good chick flicks [Steel Magnolias and Fried Green Tomatoes] so shecan enjoy an evening to herself....A good idea? I'm running out to be frank. I got her jewelry and a purse and lots of wearable stuff last year, I did a massage and dinner the year before...*shrugs* I'm not as creative as I seem, when it comes to gifts.

I hope you all are well. I'm having so much fun with this meme. I really am.

xxx
ag

If you have five minutes to spare

Alright, Meme first round sign ups. See the post below for the thing these numbers answer...

Spinsterwitch
1. You’re hair. I’ve loved it from the moment I saw your first pic. Do you remember your old avatar that had your head tilted back with your hair down? I loved it.
2. Anything by Green Day. It just does.
3. Meet up in San Francisco, have a picnic.
4. I have no idea. [I honestly think I’ll have trouble with this for most everyone]
5. I remember that your blog was pink, and it freaked me out a little.
6. God has no power over the past except to cover it with oblivion."- Pliny, the Elder
7. How do you remain so genuinely gentle?

Hyde
1. You’ve got amazing stamina, for everything
2. Phantom of the Opera
3. Sing an aria from an opera, Puccini maybe. I like Tosca…
4. See Spinny’s answer…I am devoid of inside jokes.
5. Your writing moved me to tears the first time I read your blog. You made me feel fiercely protective. You inspired me to get my own.
6. “At times one remains faithful to a cause only because its opponents do not cease to be insipid.” Freidrich Neitzsche
7. How much sleep do you really average a night?

Aravis
1. You make cute cards
2. “Molly’s Chambers” Kings of Leon
3. Take photographs
4. I listen to the CD all the time
5. I was fascinated by your pictures on your blog.
6. “The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.” Marcus Areulius
7. Do you live in the middle of nowhere?

Mark
1. Your blog has more topics than any other one I’ve seen
2. I honestly have no idea…
3. Take a walk
4. again *sigh* no inside jokes….
5. Your avatar. I thought it was adorable.
6. “Genius is born, not paid” Oscar Wilde
7. What’s your IQ? [you don’t have to answer that]

Any other takers? I'll give it a go. If you want.

I'm also interested to see what you guys think of me, with regards to these questions....

So You Go and Stand on Your Own

Wow. It seems like everyone has been dreaming lately. Saw a lot of posts about dreams. I've been keeping them up myself, too. I don't know where its all been coming from, unless its just fitful sleeping or I'm just in one of those "heightened awareness" states. Either way, its both comforting and a little odd.

I'm also being a little lazy, so I'm going to post a small meme, but its really for you if you want to, and maybe, if you want, you can tell me the same, or whatever. I found this jewel on Perpet's site. its cute. Leave a comment and:

1. I'll respond with something random I like about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I'll name something we should do together.
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me (or just me).
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll leave you a quote that is somehow appropriate to you.
7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

I've been thinking lately, and I wonder if I am self centered. I was thinking this, because, asI reply to emails, I generally reply to news, or follow up questions with an anctdote about my experience. I tend to do this in comments as well. Am I narccissistic, or is that my odd way of relating? I wonder. Do you think I am self centered? [for the record, I know its not all about me]

Work, as always, is ongoing. The better I get the more I enjoy it [and you can get better at waitressing, I promise] There's a new hostess who drives me batty, she lies to your face, makes a lot of mistakes and in general does a lot of things that rub me the wrong way. I'm trying to be nice, I am, but she makes me want to tear out my hair. Its also been a week since I saw Preacher Man's parents in the store, and I found myself dreading the thought of running into them again. Ever since I saw them he's been in the back of my mind, and thinking of him is never plesant for me. It makes me sick, honestly.

I also ran into a female, erm, friend, from my past. I dont know if you want to call her a failed attempt, or a friend, or what, either way, it was akward, and it made me feel strange. Like after all this time I've never made anything more of myself. But I know I have, which is important. Right? An dI am making more of myself all the time. To me, I suppose, I ought to be glad to know you can tell I am clean, sober and happy. I weigh more, I look better. And I am not nearly as crazy as I used to be. *sigh* bridges burned, eh? Never a plesant thought.

On a more pleasureable topic, its been raining, and although the pollen count is high, the flowers are blooming and I really can smell the honeysuckle I dreamed about earlier in the week. My dogs are more sprightly, I feel better, even. I do like rain, especially when I can curl up with tea and a book and enjoy the time inside. Falling alseep to the sound of the rain is one of my favorite things to do. If it weren't raining so hard I think I'd open up my windows and let the smell of the rain come in. I know I claim to loathe springtime, but sometimes its almost bearable. Especially the rain.

Right, then. Leave a comment, tell me if you want to play the meme, and we'll get back to eachother, right?

Sending the lot of you a huge hug.
AG

Missing the sound of your hands in the grass

Last night I dreamed of the setting sun. I was laying in my back yard looking at the mass of honeysuckle that climbs my fence and blocks out the view of everything behind it. I had my head on my arms, propped behind my shoulders, and I turned to feel my face in the grass, the way it tickled me, the way it smelt. I remember I felt alone, I felt tired, I felt like I was completely full. I dreamed that I was a little drunk, laying there, thinking of the sound of the wind, inhaling deeply the smell of the flowers in front of me.

I had a flower in my hand. An iris, I think, although it was perfectly white with exception of its deep violet center. I held it lazily and dangled it over my lips, across my eyelids and down my cheeks. I lay it back on my chest, inhaling deeply again, and sighing. I played with the stem, gently pulling off bits of it with my thumbnail before flicking it aside.

As I lay there, as I dreamt, I thought of the things I love. Of the people I love. It seemed suddenly they were all there sitting beside me, drinks in hand, smelling like the ocean together, laughing and each taking turns telling me secrets.

Its not that far.

I'm right here.

You're almost there.

Please, don't cry. Its not so bad.

I remember feeling my hair around my sholders, clutching it as I cried softly, looking at them, whispering to them how much I loved them, reaching out to touch them, inches away, but never close enough.

When I woke up I was hot, I was sweating and my face felt wet. I lay there, shivering and shuddering and thinking of everything I love, and promising myself I wouldn't let any of it slip through my hands.

Not a very good one, is it? I'll write more, I think, about my dreams, provided I can keep them in my head.

xx
ag

I am caught like bottled water

I am going to preface this with fair warning that this review is obviously biased. Anyone who has read my blog for any amount of time knows that I love Ani. If your unfortunate enough to have received one of my terrible mix CD's you've heard her for yourself [or maybe, just maybe, you listen to her anyway, because you're cool like that.] That said, I'm going to talk about the concert in more detail.

As far as concerts go, it was good. The opening act was decent, funny, witty, and all in all every thing a good folk act should be. he was politcal, he was loud, he was enjoyable. The wait in between sets was annoying, because there were some technical difficulties. The venue was small, I stood all night, the drinks werent cheap. There were a load of jerks in the back who talked quite loudly through the show and it pissed me off no one shut them up.

That said, watching Ani live is honestly, I think, one of the most amazing moments in my life. Imagine, if you can, seeing the person you most admire, but have never had the chance to meet, up close and more personal than you could have ever hoped. Breathtaking.

Ani is rage. She is beauty. She is heartbreak. She is love. Watching her preform gave me a completely different perspective on her music. It was like watching god create light. You can imagine it. You can think of it. You can hear it in your head, recorded, retold - but being there, that is something completely different. Her music, her voice, her moods - they move through you, in you in a way that recordings [even live ones] can never express. The way she moved when she played, her expressions, her talking, the looks on her face when somethign went wrong, or right, the way she laughed...all of those things moved me in ways I didnt know I could be moved. She inspires me to change, she inspires me to protect, she inspires me to love.

Shall I say she played my favorite songs? She did. Shall I say when she *read out of a book* while she stretched her tendons that I was captivated? I was. Shall I say she moved me to tears? I cried. Does it matter that it was crowded,that people are rude and beer expensive? Not to me. What matters to me is that I changed from when I went in, and the music that has been the soundtrack of my existence since I was 18 has taken on more meaning, more life, than ever before.

Stars?
concert - 8/10
life moment - 10

Maybe you should follow my example

found this on a website for univeristy of Florida, laughed so hard I cried. Off their flyer campaign on Valentines Day...

12 reasons gay marriage is wrong...

1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control are not natural.

2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people cannot get legally married because the world needs more children.

3. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children because straight parents only raise straight children.

4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful, since Britney Spears's 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.

5. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and it hasn't changed at all: women are property, Blacks can't marry Whites, and divorce is illegal.

6. Gay marriage should be decided by the people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of minorities.

7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are always imposed on the entire country. That's why we only have one religion in America.

8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people makes you tall. {Hey Swiss, Lord B - can I borrow a few inches?]

9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage license.

10. Children can never succeed without both male and female role models at home. That's why single parents are forbidden to raise children.

11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven't adapted to cars or longer lifespans.

12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a "separate but equal" institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages will for gays & lesbians.

Hope you all laughed as much as I did.

Incidentally, I will be sure to post a delightfully long, over indulgent, sappy, and fanatical review of the glorious Ani D live tomorrow or Thursday, I promise. And then, Kieran, I swear I'll get to my dreams. I didnt sleep last night anyway. I swear.

xxx
AG

I need rest

I am exhausted, but I will say this about the concert - She's beautiful. Completely amazing. I am somehow heartbroken, in love and more alive than I have ever felt in my life. I'll write more next time. I promise. Rest assured - it was amazing.

Keep you're eye on that one- anticipate.

This time tomorrow night I'll be at the concert. I cant wait.

Alright. Question the next, sports I enjoyed playng when I was younger.

Honestly, I didnt. a few reasons. First, I had asthma badly, so Physical Education class was torture for me. I was terrible at running, playing, etc, and I developed a phobia of sports. Once I got over it, as I got to my tweens and teens I didnt play sports because I was told by my parents it wasnt "ladylike". I was encouraged to play an instrument, take ballet, be a cheerleader, anything but play sports.

I did take ballet. Its very intense work and I loved it. I also learned to play 3 instruments proficiently. {Violin, piano and flute for those couting - I am also slightly proficinent in percussion, guitar and most brass instruments, reed instruments give me hell] I was a cheerleader for one terrible year, during which I ruined my ankle and had to quit dancing. No fun, at all. I also sang [opera and otherwise], did drama [I was the narrator in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat] and joined the debate team.

I was, in essence, a geek.

Now that I am an adult and play sports for fun? I love softball. I cant get enough of it. And it turns out I am a decent catcher and a pretty good hitter. :) I go watch tournaments in the summer and this summer will be the first in quite a few years I wont be playing on a team. I also like tennis, though I am terrible at it. I love to swim. Once you get me in the water its hard to get me out. If you count cycling as a sport, I like that too. I bought a new bike last summer. Still, softball has a special place in my heart.

Correct me if I am wrong, I think Kieran's was up next, what I've been dreaming of, or writing about my dreams, so maybe I'll get to that soon. I've had a lot of dreams lately. My minds been going a mile a minute at night, so I suppose that contributes. Of course, I've been a little more, erm, "spiritually" active, and that makes things a little more intense as well.

Thanks to everyone for the advice about my brother. Any is appreciated, and it means a lot to know you guys care. Having been there myself, I know you have to want to change. It still makes it no less sad, I suppose. I appreciate everyone's input. In other weird news, Preacher Man's parents were in the restaurant today. I suppose its inevitable. I spent the half hour they were there and I had spotted them hiding. *sigh* Looking at them makes me sick to my stomach with memories. I dont hate many people, but they're on my list.

On the upside, I get to go to a concert tomorrow. Hotel booked, directions printed, tickets ready. Now, to pack.

You can keep posting questions, incedentally, this is nice, to share with you and have something to look forward to writing. I'll be gone until Tuesday, so until then, take care.

Lots of Love-
AG

Keep it Separated

I think I have a few more questions to answer. I think the next in line was my most memorable compliment. That one was easy. On my prom night I was headed out to my car and one of the school's basketball players stopped me and told me I looked pretty. I had liked him a great deal before that, and that moment cemented him in my memory because Preacher man had neglected to compliment me that evening. It meant a lot to me that he had said something. It made me feel very lovely indeed.

Next up is shorty's I think, on what sports I played or liked as a child.

In personal news, my mother has made me angry again. She insulted my new job [and me] and invited me to church [which I have repeatedly asked her not to do] and then went and told my grandmother a whole pack of lies about how I refuse to see her and the step kids and how I dont love them any more, etc. It wears me out. I didnt see my mom on easter,which is likely badof me, but I am tired of being the adult. I'm 24, she's 47. She can buck up and apologize to me. She owes me one. [well, more than one, but the one will do]

My gran also said some pretty sad things about my brother, whom I dont talk about much. His addiction problems [Meth, cocaine, alchohol, among others] are getting worse and he looks like a skeleton more and more when I see him. I dsont know what to say, every time I think about broaching the subject with him about his problems I know he will shoot back at me that I did it as well. Its true, but I stopped before it hurt me too badly. Gran said there was nothing we could do but wait to see if he would stop or if he would kill himself from it. I hate that sort of fatality. It runs in my family. My mom will say "well, he'll do it whether I want him to or not" and then gives him drug money telling herself she cant stop it so why bother. *sigh* I suppose I better say something, if only to know I tried, right?

Someone should study me now

Alright, Aravis is up next on the list of questions you asked [I've not forgotten] and she asked if I could step into an alternate reality, what woud I step into. Honestly, this sounds like liscence to create the perfect world, and Aravis, my dear, I'm not up to that. I wrote a paperon that in school ,took me about 50 pages. so we'll asume you mean an alternate but pre-created reality, and I think theres no question for me then.

This geek wants the Harry Potter reality. I like the idea of traveling where you wish with a thought [think of the saved plane fare, eh, Spinny?] I like the idea of magic. I like the ideas of ink and parchment, owls for pets and wands that you can use to grow flowers, cook dinner or change your eyebrow color. I like the idea there is something beautiful and exciting behind a door or a wall, but that beauty and excitement can be used to appreciate the mundane of your world. I like that.

I wonder what we would all be doing in one of those moving pictures? What would you do in a blogger group photo?

I'm Alright, I'm alright

I prmise. I hope I didnt get you worried, Hyde. I'm fine. I promise. Just a lot busier than I want to be. I get so tired when I am off work I dont want anything but a long bath and a nap. Sad, isnt it?

Alright. I had a lot of great suggestions. I'll try to tackle one at a time, and I'll try to go in order, although there's not promise on that.

I have a lot of fond memories. I suppose I never write about them, but I do. There are two that stand out. One from childhood and one from now.

When I was a little girl my grandfather would sit onhis front porch and talk to me. Sometimes about The War, somtimes about his old horse ranch befor ehe had a heart attack, sometimes about my aunts. As I got older it was life, how he wanted me to react if he passed, what I should keep in mind if I ever wanted his [posthumous] approval of my mate. Things like that. I treasure those times. The long talks. The love. I can always see myself, when I am dreaming and can control where I am headed in the dream, starting on his porch, the roses in front of us, the swing beneath us, the wind in my hair, the smell of his cologne tickling my nose.

As an adult, without a doubt, my favorite memory is the first night Beloved and I spent in our new home. We had just signed on it, it was ours. It was a warm october and we opened the windows and let the air come in. We slept on a pallet made out of couch cushions and bedsheets. I was so happy. I remember thinking that I had a woman who loved me, a home that was mine and a good future to look forward to. Everything seemed alright bathed in the sunset that night. It was a perfect moment.

Mr. Mystic, you know, I'd blush if I were able. Your suggestion comes as a bit of a suprise. I've not dallied over here in a long time. Quite a long time. And I'm no expert. I wouldn't be a good teacher. If you ask me, its the experimenting and learning thats fun. ;)

Mor elater, loves. I promise I'll try to get around more often. At worst, I'll send you all an email letting you know I'm in one peice and happy, eh?

xxx
ag

Another very boring post

I got the ani tickets in the mail today. Yay!

Its supposed to storm again tonight. Not nearly so exciting. Or may, more exciting than I liked.

I am terribly afraid my life has become a boring mix of non stop work and sleep. And thinking of nothing but food lately has done nothing for my conversational abilities.

I was pleased to look at the lists everyone gave me. There are a few I am certainly going to check out.

It looks like everyone else is busy, though. I feel like a bad blogger, not keeping up. And an eve4n worse one for not having anything interesting to say.

I met with my school advisor yesterday and we discussed my degree options and where I could get jobs after I finish my post graduate work depending on the post grad degree I select. I think I got some wonderful input.

Being a novelist wont ever be in the cards, I dont think. But I dont think I would mind technical writing a bit. Its not difficult, but its writing. I'd love a lit degree, and a professorship in that, but my advisor mentioned that for every lit prof opening there's some 200 applicants at most colleges. They scoured for 8 potential tech writing professors when they were looking to expand the department. It'll be a good feild to break into. And there's not much of a glass ceiling either, which is great, because there seems to be one in about every other industry I've worked in. [excepting food service, of course]

Its so rare anyone works their dream job. I'd be interested to hear what you *really* would do if you had the time. Do you like your job? Would you rather be a rock star? A writer for Rolling Stone? A sanatation engineer? You tell me. What would you do.

Incidentally, to prevent my downward spiral into boredom, does anyone want to suggest somethng for me to write about, discuss or otherwise debate with them? I'm dry, and there's not a chance I'll touch music, there's two or three of you out there that have me whipped all the way around.

Wow. The reading lists are amazing, I admit. Some I've read, some were required for when I was in school. I *live* to kill a mockingbird, good book.

You know, as soon as I went back to my bookshelf there were a thousand other books that I thought of to replace them, but you kow, I dont think I am going to revise it. Suffice to say there are hundreds upon hundreds of excellent books to read.

Its my day off again. I finally got to the pool. It felt wonderful. I need to get there more often.

That's it for today. Maybe someone wants to tell me their least favorite books?

I disdain Grapes of Wrath and Of Mice and Men [although I do agree they are important reads.] I didn't like Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance but I appreciated the symbolism. I HATE Charles Dickens....*sigh* For a lover of classics I'm not much a lover am I?

The rain falls fast on a humdrum town

Hello all. Another day off, and another day at the library. But this time I have BIG NEWS.

Ani DiFranco is going to be in concert in my state this month and I have tickets! Now, you've heard me chat about her from time to time, but I've never gotten to see her live and I honestly thought the chance had passed me by, because I scalped a ticket when I went to see Dimbrilliance and she had lost hers.

Ani quit touring because she had very bad carpal tunnel syndrome after over 15 years of touring and playing her guitar in her beautiful, inimitable style. But she's back! And I have tickets! I cant wait. I really can't. and I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

Cross one off my "musicians to see live before I die" list. I've got her down now!

In other news. Well, there isnt much. We were supposed to have more severe weather last night, and we lucked out with only tornado watches, which is good. We needed the rain and it was lovely. The thunder was a delightful low growl most of the evening, and instead of it frightening me, it was comfortable. We watched Survivor, CSI and Without a Trace and in the commercials I worked on my umpteenth reading of "The Vampire Lestat" because I wanted some brain candy and I wasnt in the mood for Harry Potter or Alexandre Dumas. I need to re-read The Brother's Karamasov sometime soon, and then maybe start on The Davinci Code, as suggested by our good friend Flash. If it gets him off his arse and reading [quoting his profile, not being mean, I promise] its got to be decent, at least.

I have an appointment with an advisor next Wednesday to talk about my college major. I've pretty much decided to go for two degrees at once, and Beloved says I am nuts. I think I can do it. I think I'll like it. And I want to make a good decision, since I want to do graduate [and hopefully doctoral] work once I get my degrees. I'm going to be in school forever, but I love it, so its not too bad, right? In case you're curious, I've selected Professional [techinical] Writing and [Elgish] Literature as my two degree options. I know you'll be laughing, since I never proofread this site, but honestly, I can write when I am into it, and I can proofread quite well when I make an effort, but this is an escape, right?

Apeaking of books, has anyone else read The Brother's Karamasov? It was my favorite book before The Count of Monte Cristo knocked it off the top of the list. I love the book. Its autobiography, allegory and fictional prose all whirled together. Its beautifully and painfully written. Big book, though. And a bit of a lagging read, at first, I admit, but it ends in brilliant style, and its incredibly moving. There are also a lot of roots in the existentialist movement inspired by the work, in fact, if I remember rightly, Freud even discussed existentialism in this book in a paper of his. Maybe I'll look it up again. Hm.

You know, if you wanted, I'd like to see everyone's top 5 book list, if you have one.

I'll start, hows that sound?

5. Memoirs of a Geisha, Arthur Golden [new to my list - I cant put it down]
4. Oranges Aren't the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson
3. Harry Potter [select one of the last 3, I dont care]
2. The Brother's Karamasov, Fyodor Dostoyevsky [sic]
1. The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexander Dumas

alright. Your turn.

Sun Just Slipped Below My Door

Ah, days off. How lovely are they?

And today, unlike our recent weather, has been beautiful. Gorgeous breeze, warm sun, green grass. The university mowed the lawn, even. So what did I do today? I went to work. On my day off. That's right. I am so pathetic I went in to have breakfast at my restaurant. It should say somethign about how good the food is [it reall yis] but I think it says more about how sad I am, doesn't it? Of course, my coworkers were obliging and chatted to me, my server Loves Nirvana was especially happy. Of course, I bought a pie off of him and that boosts his GCA, doesnt it? Either way, it was nice to talk to someone rather than sit alone in another diner with a surly waitress/er.

I did go get my hair cut. Again. Of course, since I shave dit five years ago it grows like mad. Its supposed to be a myth, I know, but my hair is fuller and grows faster now that its been shaved. You'd think it was a lawn instead of hair. but it looks pretty [I got a few stares at the mall where I get my hair cut] and its not shaggy anymore.

In related news [and a shamless plug for a friend, again] Phil got his hair cut as well. And our Mal Reynolds look-alike is quite cute now ;) well, not that he wasn't before...*pulls foot from mouth*

In one last shameless plug, I know I haven't been posting about sex lately [have you noticed?] but the other spot I write at [other than the lovely Reader Meet Author], The Secret Room, had a new dream I've been having on it, and I would be interested to hear what you all think. Of course, if you don't want to comment, you can always email me....[address in profile, friends, although most of you should have it by now]

Alright. Off we go.

Lvoe you all.
AG

Maybe you should follow my example

Alright, a brief interruption to post a new person I am shamelessly plugging.

Go visit The Full Stop. Kieran [sorry, darling, I can't spell - not even my own name most days] is quite an interesting fellow. Has good taste in books and has recently had a conversation with God. It made for a good read. Really. Swiss will be interested to know he put Morrissey and The Smiths on his profile [both of them].

I think I owe this one to Mark from Fear and Loafing in England, so thanks, Mark. He's a gem.

Check him out, tell him hello. Heaven knows you'll want something more interesting to read than my drivel for a while....

Send me your pillow

Look! its another post. And within a day! Its frightening, almost.

Ladies [and gents, if you'll admit to having a hormonal time] do you find that you have more dreams, or more vivid dreams, when your hormones are more active? And I dont simply mean dreams like the type I post over at TSR, but just odd dreams. I've been having a lot lately, and its odd to have so many, so frequently. I have always been a dreamer, but I havent ever had several in a night, in quick succession, or ones so vivid. Its strange to me. I know there's a lot going on for me, and that might be part of it. I t also might be I am spending more time doing the "spiritual" things I have lain off of for a while. Or it may just be hormones.

But I have found myself wanting to stay in bed, to hit the snooze one more time so I can finish a dream, get a little further. Its been so long sonce I've done that.

I know some of you aren't heavy dreamers, some I am unsure of. How do you cope with them? Do you try to interpret them [Mystic, Spinny?] I've tried to quit asking. Sometimes its better not to know the answers. Especially as unsettling as my dreams can be.

I'll be back tomorrow, I promise. And I'll look forward to hearing what you all think.

xxx
ag

Let Me Kisss You

Wow. So its been sometime since I’ve posted something other than “hi I am fine but busy” hasn’t it? I honestly wish I had more time than I do to chat to you, and leave you all messages, unfortunately, I really am very busy. But I miss you all.

Today, I am curious, if you will enlighten me. When is it appropriate to ask someone you don’t know out? Are there rules? Is there a set protocol?

I ask because I was asked to dinner by a guest at my restaurant today. I had never met him before. I gave him the exact same service that I give all my other customers, and yet something I must have done gave him the idea to ask me out. Was it my looks? Was it because I smile [and most waitresses don’t]? Was it because I was younger than he was, and he liked that? [not that it matters, because it doesn’t...I’d figure him around 56-58 though, he ordered off the senior menu]

I have no idea, still, he asked me out and I was completely flabergasted. I have never entertained the thought of asking out someone who has waited on me. I have never asked someone out if I didn’t know them relatively well. I’ve never even really gotten a date from a bar. [the few interludes I have had stemming from adult venues were with people I had known for at least some time]

It has me interested. Tell me, dear friends, what you think. I am a little more than a bit surprised. Maybe I shouldn’t be. I’m not a prude, you know this better than most I imagine, still, I can’t fathom asking *a total stranger* to dinner. Let alone expecting them to anser yes.

I’m stumped. Is it stupid of me to even think it odd? You tell me.

Switch!

So I am sure you all have noticed I moved, and now I am back. Things should be settling down now, I hope.

I am still exhausted from work, and I am hopeing to have a decent online connection sometime soon. I am getting ready to register for school, and I am trying to catch up on my sleep. I forget how wearing physical work can be.

Went on a little day trip with Belved yesterday. It was nice. Maybe I'll pop in and tell you lot about it tommorow. In the meantime, welcome to my new spot.

Lots of Love.
AG

Shiny and new

I'm back. Its short today, just to let you all know I am still alive and that things should be getting more interesting around here.

I still like my new job, and thats amazing, but I am working my first kids night tonight [kids eat free - *sigh*] so we'll see how that goes. I've missed seeing you all and I enjoyed catching up this afternoon. I suppose the upside of all of this is that I learned how to hange out modem cards.

Went to see V for Vendetta this weekend. If you are interested in the movie at all I suggest going over to Swiss Toni's there's a pretty good discussion about the film going on there. [No point in me starting one when theirs is so good] We had a nice time though.

Beloved and I are getting on really well, lately, and it makes me really happy. I mean, its enver been terrible, but with me being jobless and her having a job and school things got strained for a bit. I love this new thing we have, where we are actually enjoying eachother's company and planning for the future, seriously. Its nice.

She talked about moving the other day, going somewhere new. It made me excited to think of it. and happy to know she is planning on keeping me around. Its nice.

Alright. I'm being sappy.

From one extreme to another

Hi, all. Again, thanks for all the love. Turns out the lightnening fried my modem card, so I am getting a new one and should be online by Monday at the latest.

I saw this at Swiss Toni's so I better have a go.....

The rules:List 7 songs you're into right now. No matter the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening to.

[no particular order...btw]

1. Since U Been Gone, Kelly Clarkson [Thanks, ST, for reminding me...;)]
2. Into the Fire, 13 Senses
3. I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor, The Arctic Monkeys [by the way, Aravis, the album is amazing. I love you, I do]
4. Hand that Feeds, Nine Inch Nails
5. I Can't Get You Out of My Head, Coldplay [Live at Glastonbury] Thanks to this one for that.
6. Ring of Fire, Johnny Cash
7. Hate Me, Blue October

Alright. I am supposed to tag seven people. Erm...I dont think I know seven that haven't seen this posted somewhere else. So, erm, get on it then. Oh! Perpet, if you're reading today, you better give it a go. And Spinny, cause I am dying to know whats in your head. [love you darling - good to see you too!]

Alright. Times up here. Love you all. Of course I do.

Interlude

I'm still here, just barely. I'll be seeing you all soon, though. I hope you are all doing well. I've been round your places, but I have a short time limit here, so I am not able to comment as much as I like.

I really appreciate all of your support. It means a lot. Cleanup is starting, although all I have is a few branches, really. It should be okay. I'll likely go volunteer on my days off, there's a few places that were hit pretty hard in my town.

On the upside, I had lunch with my aunt A yesterday and it was really nice. It was good to see her, and I've been spending a lot of time with her and her girls lately. Its nice to have family members I can talk to, and that I can be friends with. My mom isnt talking to me right now, or she wasn't since Valentines, when I told her it was not appropriate for her to "drop by" at 9:30pm, especially because Beloved was sick. She hung up on me before I could schedule a raincheck. She phoned and left a message the other day [sometime last week, I think?] but I a not calling her back. It sounds petulant, but I left her no less than 1 message a day for a week after the incident, and if she is just now calling she wants something from me, and I haven't the time.

Working my first night shift tonight, new trainer, so it should be interesting. Liked my old one really well, I hope this one is just as nice.

Right. Miss you all. Still thinking of you.

I'll be back soon.


***
AG

danger, danger

Well, the weather reports were right, and then some. Its been a wilder Sunday than the rest f the time, I'll tell you. [brief update, Jack is fine and taking his meds like a champ, bless him]

anyway, the tornados hit. Again. And again. And I spent even more time in the closet - a total of nearly 6 hours, if you're couting - on Sunday.

You can read here about the storms in my reigon, if you are curious about the extent of the damage. There is also an interesting link of pictures from around the region with pics of the hail stones, and some of the storm damage. The Kansas City Star also ran an article about the storms in Missouri.

There were at least 2 tornados in my town for certain, possibly more, but there were two that were on the ground [does this need explaining, how much do you lot know about them?] For me, we had one touch down within about a mile of our house. The transformers outside our house were exploding and we got *baseball* sized hail. Baseball. It was very scary. We also lost our power until about 5 this morning, when everything came back on. I won't lie, I was frightened to death. I hate tornado's. I really do, and the older I get the more they frighten me, I think because I do have people I love, a house Icould lose and I am nowe able to admit that the saftey of my grandfathers arms aren't going to keep me from dying if one of those things graces my doorstep.

I felt helpless, and its a feeling I dont like. At all. I don't know how many of you have been in or around one, they aren't too fun. My step dad [v 2.0] was a tornado spotter/weather chaser, and I know exactly how deadly and terrible these things can be from his experiences. Its terrible, knowing there is something out there headed for you that you cant stop and you cant possibly get away from. All you can do is hide, and wait, and hope.

I'm tired today. And my internet connection is screwed because of the storms messing with the phone lines, so I'll be sporadic until its fixed. I am at the library right now.

I appreciate the love and the concern from you all.

I hope you are all well. I really do.

Do me a favor, tonight, think of everything you have, and just be grateful you have it. Iam realizing today how very lucky I am.

Don't close your eyes

Wow. Wild wild weekend. I am keeping it short, and then a decent post tomorrow. Lots of storms in the area. Spent a long time in the closet last night during the tornado warning. Worn out! there's another watch right now, and they are saying we'll likely have more touchdown's tonight. I cant wait.

In good news, i am off tomorrow, so I am getting a break. Went home sick today. I need some rest. I'm wearing out. I forgot how tiring physical labor is.

Jack somehow got out and the dogs attacked him Friday. he's alright, just shook up more than anything, but I spent most of Friday night [read - past 10:30 pm] in the vets office with him scared to death. He's on antibiotics and some pain killers, but not really injured. Thank everything holy. I was so frightened.

I am off to sleep. I need it.

Love you all, in case I've not told you recently.

Talk to me now

I've not much to say, I am enjoying your comments below too much [keep going! keep going!] to break it up now...

I just wanted to add that I have put someone new to my blogroll, if you haven't been, you should go visit Serendipity. Nice girl, nice place.

Alright. Back to the poll.

Poll

Alright. I am giving in to my baser desires, and although I have a separate blog for this, I am dying for some input, so you lot have to be my guinea pigs. I want to know one thing [or at least one thing] that you find painfully sexy. One thing, is all I ask. For me? hand feeding fruit. Its my new one. Tell me you wouldn't love to have your partner pack you a delicious picnic basket for two complete with candles and a blanket and hand feed you pineapple, strawberry and kiwi they've cut with their own hand...

Each time you pulled down the driveway, I wasn't sure when I would see you again

I was thinking last night, and it seems to me I spend an awful lot of time saying terrible things about my former partners, and its not very charitable of me at all, considering I did love them at one point, or at least I felt I did at the time.

I thought, for today, I might post a bit about my partner before Beloved [and to tell the truth I don't remember what I've called her, because I generally refer to her as the evil red head, which isnt nice at all] whom I am going to call Dimbrilliance, because I know she wouldn't object to that.

I can say these nice things about her -

She was very, very smart. Intelligent.

She was very pretty, and she didn't know it. She always seemed a little shy about her looks and I had always thought she was lovely.

She was the first person to take me to one of my favorite cities and I am very thankful for it. A lot of my vacations have been there and I would not have known about it if it werent for her.

She tempted me to try new foods at the Mexican restaurant in her home town, and I like a lot more food for it.

She was the person who introduced me to my love of scotch.

She was very funny. Witty. She always seemed to have something clever to say.

I liked talking to her. She had an opinion on everything. I was able to spend hours on the phone with her and not tire of it.

She was very patient.

There. See? I can be nice about my former partners. I am sure I could think of more kind things to say, but anymore is gratuitous, isnt it?

The waitress feilds the weight of her tray around her palm

I am afraid I have been more than a little boring lately, and I am going to be boring again today. For a moment at least.

I love my new job. Its amazing. I like the people. I like the atmosphere. And I am remembering a lot better than I thought I would. Two days in and I can already see myself becoming "one of the family". The other people are nice to me, stop me to show me things when I am looking for somthing or when there is something new or interesting to be done. Its great. I am quite a happy girl over that. My boss[es] are nice too.

*smiles* I almost feel guilty for it.

An ounce of peace is all I want for you

Roight. First off, I have the philosophy better late than never. So if you haven't go tell This Handsome Chap happy birthday.

In other news, I am doing my second day of work tomorrow. I am very much looking forward to it.

In music news, Aravis sent me the Artic Monkey's CD so I can finally give the whole thing a listen. Thank you! :) I'll be sure to report back what I hear. Also I've a new Emo song to love, and [judging by the colossal success of Fallout Boy] I thought I would share the lyrics with you, cause I like them so very much! Its by blue October, and its a fairly new song [music afficianados in the audience can tell how outdated I am now] and I am getting to where I like it a lot. It reminds me of how I used to be before I found Beloved and got all cleaned up.

So, Lyrics. Enjoy....

AG

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

Hate Me

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home
There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you. Will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me? It is I that wanted space

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

I'm sober now for 3 whole months
it's one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again
In a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight
You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I'll drive so fucking far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made
And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes crying and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling "make it go away!"
Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you
Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

Think I'll Go for a walk now

Lots to talk about today, albeit breifly. Maybe something more interesting later, if I can manage.

Walk the Line: Really good film. Joaquin Phoenix is so much like Johnny Cash it frightens me. I love the music. I love his acting. I don’t think Reese Witherspoon deserved an Oscar for her performance, but it wasn’t bad at all.

Pride and Prejudice: an easy film to watch. Keira Knightly is easy on the eyes. All the acting was good. The set and costume design was brilliant. I liked a lot of the lighting effects.

First Day on the Job: Was interesting. I like my new boss, she’s really nice. I get to start on the floor as soon as I memorize the menu. I think I can do it. I am also looking forward to the variety that my new work schedule will offer. My co-workers seem very nice.

Flash: Welcome home Flashy! [See the ladies lining up?] He’s posted some great pics of his send off, and of something else, which I won’t spoil, although I will compliment him upon it. Very nice, monsieur!

Phil and Adem are starting a business, in case you’d like a new header for your blog. Sorry, boys, logo. A new logo...Phil’s new one is ace, so you might check it out. In other news, of friend in Bognor is getting his hair cut...and holding a contest to see if we can guess it...

For Aravis: Here's a good link on Purim, will tell you about everything you need. isn't Wiki wonderful? As for me, I think I am going as the sun...

Beautiful - There Is No Appropriate Title

This evening I got to experience somthing new and completely beautiful. Before I go on, I want to apologize in advance at anything completely stupid I might say, or mistakes I might make, its likely I will sound uneducated at some point in this post.

As I mentioned previously, Beloved is taking her capstone course at University, and it is focusing on the lives of Jewish Americans. Her professor was kind enough to invite their class to visit synagog on Shabbat this evening and I went with her. We were the only people from her class, although there was also a methodist church visiting.

When we got there her teacher pulled in right beside us. She walked us in and as she hung up her coat she explained to us about the different words for the Synagog, which mean different things. It is called a "house of prayer" a "house of teaching" and a "house of communion" depending on the use for it. She also explained there is no special significance to the temple itself, and that often they will have service outside, because they believe that god is with them regardless of their location.

At this point she left us to explore before the service. I told Beloved a little about King David, King Solomon and what I new about the Torah, various Jewish traditions and such. (I am a bit of an Old Testament geek, so I know a lot about this particular area from an academic, Anglo Saxon POV)

We went into their fellowship room and were inspecting a copy of a tapestry/rug done by a famous Russian Jew that I am unfortunately unable to recall, and we were discussing it when a man cam eup to us and was kind enough to explain some of the images to us. Part of it was a depiction of the torah from the time Moses receives it to the reclamation of the holy land by King Solomon. There were also depictions of things like the Haunnukka celebration and a village being burnt in Russia. It was fascinating, and this man, like everyone we ran into, both geniunely cared about the contents, and also knew a lot about it. he seemed very proud and happy to share with us about it. I was very grateful to him.

We also took time to get our prayer books and sit down. While we sat I told her the sotry about the book of Esther and the custom of Purim. [Esther is my favorite book of the bible, and I am actually very knowledgeable about this particular subject] We also took time to try and decide which stories were depicted in the stained glass windows. I am proud to report I got 3 out of 4 right, which isn't bad at all. [for the record they were: Jacob wrestling with God, Miriam and her tambourine in the desert after the escape from egypt, and Moses and the burning bush]

When the service started I was really suprised, in part because there was so much singing, and chanting. I loved being able to follow along in the prayer book. I think I was also more accustomed to the format than my dear, she hasn't been to chruch as much and I am relatively familiar with the layout of a Reformist service. Either way, what really struck me, beyond the beauty of the worship was the honest love that was expressed by the people in the congregation. They showed remarkable respect and joy throughout the service, and it was really moving. As one who has spent time in a church, and religion, that had no and gave no motivation to love it, I was awed by the sheer appreciation and joy of the service, especially from the children.

The rabbi, a lady, actually talked abot Purim, which I think irritated Beloved, she was telling me I was running my mouth about it, and she gave me a dirty look when the Rabbi started in. This month is actually the month of Adar, the month in which Purim takes place. She spoke about it, and about learning to live with opression and to endure it, and...I can't put it the way she did, but it made a lot of sense, that they would not be conquored by it. I think it espescially hit home for Beloved's teacher [see this post] and we talked about that after the service.

After the service they also had a meal, and they invited us to share with them. Beloved's teacher broke bread with us and shared wine, and it was a really lovely experience. I got to talk to her about her class, and all the things I learned this evening. I was really struck by it. It was very beautiful. We also talked about how some Jews don't believe in god, and how you can follow the torah and its moral teachings without believing in god, and it was really interesting the way she was talking about it. Apparently its something she has been trying to teach in her class that some had a problem grapsing.

I also had a nice chat with the Rabbi, and we talked about Esther and the holiday of Purim and she took me to her office and gave me an article she wrote about Purim and Esther. We even talked about the mythology of Esther and how there were corollary myths in Egypt. She is a brilliant and fascinating woman. She was also kind enough to invite Beloved and I back to the synagog for the feast of Purim in a week so we could enjoy it, and so I might be able to experience something I had studied about. It was very generous of her, and I am afraid I am going to abuse her kindness and attend. [I do, however, have to find a costume to wear] Beloved's teacher is also belly dancing [part of the tradition, apparently] and there is going to be another bread breaking ceremony afterwards. Rabbi compared it to Mardi Gras for the Jews. I am very much looking forward to it.

I am extremely grateful for Beloved taking me. It is by far one of the most interesitng things we have done as a couple. It was also the most moving religious service I have ever observed. I am both touched and incredibly greatful to have been able to experience it.

I walk up to the bar and point to the top shelf

Tea is the most comforting drink in the world. Hot tea, Earl Grey or English Breakfast, black. The world seems a little more right when you are drinking tea. I like it hot or cold although I prefer hot. I will drink it sweet or unsweet. I will not compromise on it being very strong. I will not drink it from restaurants that keep it in metal tins, it makes it funny tasting. I like it flavored, or plain, and I like it with fresh mint leaves if I have them.

My favorite wine is a white wine, not classy I know, but good. It is called Muscatto Allegro. Its sweet. Easy to drink. I like it when I have had a bad day and want something soft to make the evening a little more fuzzy around the edges. Also happens to be the only wine my friends can agree with me on. If I am not drinking it, I prefer cabernet sauvignon.

I used to hate orange juice. I drank it a lot as a child with my asthma medicine, which I broke open and put into the juice because I couldn’t swallow pills yet. I still don’t drink it often. My grandmother, whom I lived with, had good orange juice at night when she came home from work, I discovered later in life this is because it was a Screwdriver, and not really just orange juice.

In my church when I was little they served grape juice for communion. I was always disappointed when bottled grape juice didn’t taste as nice as the thimble full I got from those teeny cups. As I got older the boys who served the cups to us would stow away the unused and we would shoot it after the service.I

detest milk. I will only drink it cold with cinnamon rolls. I like it with chocolate. I have no idea where this prejudice came from. I do, however, like to drink steamers, which are of course steamed milk with whipped cream and flavored syrup.

I didn’t like beer until a few years ago. I discovered this is because I had only had light beer and I prefer dark beer. I once accidentally bought a case of rolling rock at a Sam’s club. I saw that the 24 pack long-necks were on sale, we were having a party and I knew everyone I knew liked it. I grabbed a 24 pack. When we got to the front they told me to wait and they would bring the rest of my case. I can’t even look at the bottles now, I am so sick of it.

Crown Royal is my favorite whiskey to drink. On my 21st birthday my friend Aeneas came down and we played Trivial Pursuit as a drinking game and used the bottles of Crown he bought me as our shooter. I like to drink it neat. The only thing I like better than whiskey is scotch. I like both with a cigar. It tastes nicer that way for some reason.

The drink that officially made me sick when I turned 21 was called a banana republic and it had banana liquor, banana rum, coconut rum and some sort of vodka in it with pineapple mixer. It was good, but it made me sick. I had been drinking whiskey all day/night.Beloved and I took a vacation a year or so ago and the owner of the bed and breakfast made breakfast for us. She served Mango juice at breakfast. It was delicious.

When I was in high school I drank cranberry juice all the time. I never liked it. I am unsure why I did it. I also had a proclivity to instant cappuccinos that they sold in my cafeteria. I don’t like those either. Those, though, I am pretty sure I drank because I only slept about 4 hours a night.

I do not like coffee, although I will drink coffee drinks. There is one brand of decaf I like, and it is served in one restaurant in my town. I will drink coffee with a lot of creamer in it. I also like *real* cappuccinos with extra espresso in them. I will drink a shot of espresso if I need a pick me up for a study session [when I was in school] or have had a late night.

I drink far too much soda. I prefer coke or mountain dew. Mountain dew is especially good with old fashioned cherry syrup in it. I like cherry drinks of all sorts. I like ginger ale dry. I prefer hot soda to cold and canned to bottles, although glass bottles are the best.

The drier the champagne, the better.

Gatorade [and all sports drinks] is evil.

I’ve of course left the most common for last. Water. I will drink it, especially when I am sick. I will drink it from the tap, although we buy four cases of water every few weeks or so, Beloved grew up on spring water from a well. I prefer plain to flavored, sparkling above all. I will say this: I would rather swim or soak in water than drink it.

So that’s me and beverages.

We can have a few decent days and nights

I have a job. A new one. A Sure one. At a restaurant waitressing. Not very glamourous, but its a job. They'll work with my school schedule. And I will get to meet people and be around people and be friendly. It might be good for me.

Yesterday was a fine day. I got a job, of course. I also got to spend a decent time online decompressing and talking to people. I gave a tarot reading for someone. [incidentally, Spins, I have a question for you - how do you deal with a bad reading? I hate giving bad news] I also had lunch with a friend. While I was at lunch with my friend a guy came over and asked me if my tattoos were runes. He actually recognized them. He showed me he had as tattoo of the runic alphabet in a band around his arm. He was older, probably in his fifties, and it was neat to see someone like me...I don't know. It was just neat.

It was a beautiful day. Almost 80 degrees, which is unheard of in the midwest in February. The breeze was lovely. I wore a beautiful sundress my aunt R had given me, its turquiose blue with red and gold and pink flower/peacocks on it. It sounds garish, but its really very lovely. She has great taste. It cuts diagonally along the botton and has a couple ruffles. Its nearly all sheer. I felt like a spring goddess. It was nice.

I am having lunch with Mystery again today. I am looking forward to it. She's been ill and we haven't been able to hang out as much. [Plus, the darling girl has a life] But it will be nice. Its supposed to be warm again today. I might indulge in a walk around a park or something. We have a couple beautiful parks here. I might even go to one with a lake and pester the ducks. I love ducks.

I'm an 'effing little beam of sunshine today.

Sending you all lots and lots of love.
AG

This town had dragged you down

Last night Beloved came home completely shocked. She told me that a guy in her capstone course at school [which is on Jewish Literature - biographies and autobiographies] had told the class that he agreed with Hitler. he had a "hard time seeing the Jews as real people" How can there still be people like this in the world? It amazes me. To top it off [and you *know* she had to keep quiet] the professor is a Jew! How sick can a person be. Beloved said the whole class ws so shocked they couldn't say anything. I am amazed. The sad thing is, though, that there are poeple like this in my town. Everywhere. It makes me sad.