Haven't I Seen You Here Before?

Today is the first day in a long time that I've wanted to come here. It's strange how we return to things, and stranger yet, is the journey that initially takes us away...then brings us back. Whether that circle happens in just a minute, takes years, or even a lifetime, we always seem to do it. Come back around, I mean. Just give me a minute to adjust to the altitude, and I'll be ready to go - it's been a long time since I've been this far above ground.

To Text or Not to Text...There Isn't A Question

So much to say, so few words available to really drive my point home. My place is not great, and my mindset has been mutilated by disappointment, confusion and complete lack of faith in my fellow man. Yes MAN. I don't hate you yet, but you guys sure make it hard on a girl. I'm gonna do a list...because they are effective and people like 'em. Especially me.

Things to never do if you have one ounce of respect for the intended target:

1. Break dates via text messaging.
2. Deliver bad news via text messaging.
3. Deliver good news via text messaging.
4. Make dates via text messaging.
5. Text message more than 15 times in a day, without making a phone call to that same person.
6. xoxo in a text message, if you haven't spoken to that person in more than a week.
7. Break up with someone by refusing to answer a text message.
8. Abbreviate or bastardize the english language using text-speak.
9. Communicate soley with anyone via text messaging.

PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE!!!

For all you boys out there...texting can be fun, and flirty. There's no doubt about that. And used as an extension of good communication, can help keep people connected in a very cool way. But, used in any of the ways outlined above, and your relationship is doomed to fail. This is not rocket science, my friends. Human contact must occur in order to keep the tingle alive. Live it, breathe it, and for your own sake and the sake of your significant other - don't text it!

The Fear of Being Found

What happens when you make lost, the way, that you just are? Do you dress yourself in fear with a matching bag made out of comfortable and some nice "safe" shoes? Maybe you sneek peeks to the outside with an elaborate system of mirrors that allows you to see around every corner. Always seeing what's coming, way before it can catch a glimpse of you. Maybe you have a moat, and a scary beast that keeps the walls secure. Maybe your pale face has long since failed to reflect light, so you just blend into the tapestry, and become it, making it impossible to discern where you start and it stops. Maybe people get tired. And maybe you make it difficult. But if one of them happens upon you in a moment of weakened defense, and manages to warm your cold skin with a simple smile, found is what you then become. Whether you like it or not.

Is Anybody Out There?

I know, it's been a long time since we shared any quality time together. You know how much I love you though, and I'm pretty sure you love me too. So let's just get on with it, shall we?

Isolation was the name of the game in 2008. Tongue-tied and too confused to put more than a couple of sentences together, my refuge has been silence. Or at least what passes as silence for most people. Silence, the beautiful sound of surrender. And that's what I've been doing for the last year. Surrendering. Not to be confused with giving up. Just turning myself over to the universe and letting it have it's way with me. Interesting how that turned out. I've contemplated all kinds of new and old ideas. I've examined my faith, in people, places and myself. I opened myself up to love, intimacy and achieved greater depths of understanding. I'm a different person today. Better, I think. But I'm ready to make the universe mine again. And thankfully my voice is coming back. I look forward to sharing it. Hopefully you are still out there listening....

Basted in Blood

Subtle, I know, it's a strong point of mine. I'll move on from there, no need to beat a dead horse....but, please remember that no matter what trials and tribulations you've experienced, very few could match that which a turkey must endure on his path to your holiday table. So, it's that time again. Time to share the list of 26 reasons that I am thankful this Thanksgiving season. As in years past, this list is in no particular order...and all the reasons on the list from 2007 and 2006 still apply. Here we go...

1. Clara. I miss you, mommy's girl
2. My home
3. Candles that smell like tasty treats
4. Encouragement
5. Baked Ruffles
6. Arabic
7. Butterflies. Real and tummy ones
8. Big Hunks and Cherry Blow Pops
9. Hope. Even in it's tiniest measure
10. Fresh oranges sprinkled with pico de gallo
11. My friends and family - just the most amazing people
12. Dental floss. The minty kind
13. Sharpie pens. And no, I'm not a huffer
14. Songs. Too many to list, but they are my prescribed anti-depressant
15. The Sierra's
16. Falling in love, for a second
17. Scar tissue
18. Books
19. Whispers
20. 65,189,669 votes for change, and hopefully the end of America's war-mongering
21. Bubble bath and bath bombs
22. Forgiveness
23. Hair dye. The person who invented hair color needs to be given a major prize
24. Asics running shoes
25. The Sierra's
26. You, for continuing to come here and share the burden of my all consuming angst

Enjoy your holiday. May peace, health and love find you in the coming year. And if you've indulged in some blood basted carcass...you better hide from karma, because she'll be looking for you too.

Powell Rules

Brave, honest, and real....balls of fucking steel. (ooh, that could be a song, and some of the best words I've put together in months!) So, I've granted General Colin Powell a lifelong, all access pass to my lovely candy land. Very, very few can say the same. And yes, for those of you who are imagining what that land might look like...I think Mr. Powell and Martin Gore will have all kinds of things to talk about. A true gentleman, statesman, and my political hero - he has inspired this girl, and reminded me that real men do still exist in this world. Color me all a tingle, with a little dab of "I told you so" just above my left eyebrow, for all of you who didn't believe that a Republican could be so sexy ;)

Guitar Pick

So, I've been learning to play the guitar. Under the patient and supportive tutelage of my master, I have finally made it to a place where I consider myself a guitar player. It has been an exercise in patience of the highest degree...and it has humbled me in ways that I did not know were possible. There were many, oh so many times that I questioned why I was continuing to practice something that I am clearly not good at, and in those moments of doubt a theory began to form in my little brain. A theory that would eventually allow me to let it all go and just accept my inadequacies. I realized that I couldn't help the fact that I sucked at guitar, I realized that in order to be great at it...I needed a penis.
There is a reason that all of the great guitar players are men. Women can be good guitar players, but great...none really come to mind. And it's not because women are not capable of being great musicians, it's simply because the guitar was built for a man. It seduces men. Just look at it's womanly shape. All curvy in the places that you hold closest to you...and that not-so-subtle tease of the flying V, with those legs going in opposite directions...no wonder boys pick up the guitar when they are 13 and lock themselves in their basements with it. And if you look at the neck of the guitar as simply a phallic extension of men's bodies, well...genius has no choice but to emerge. Further illustrating my point is the fact that many of the guitar greats were shy, introverted, geeky guys that weren't hanging out with girls after school. I mean, how many jocks and Abercrombie models do you see rockin' the guitar? Guys that are getting the real thing, don't need to put all of that suppressed energy into an instrument. Just think about it, how many sexually repressed guys do you know right now, who spend way too much time playing Rock Band and shredding that fake plastic guitar?
I think I'm on to something here. It certainly explains why after 4 years of lessons, I can barely call myself a guitar player. And come on girls, why do we think guitar players are so hot? I think we are subliminally reacting to the intimate observation of a man very, very into his lady. So, for those of you who might be pickin' up what I'm putting down...especially the boys out there, here's a little girl-on-girl action to perk up your day.