I feel an unhealthy amount of anger right now. I took a walk and contemplated why I was feeling this way. I have come to understand that I am feeling this way due to unfinished business. Unfinished business with my father.
One would think that after 19 years that I would be able to put that aside. But I guess you would never know unless you went through it. Every time that I think that I reach some milestone in emotional development with this situation, I become undone. Tonight, a discussion came up, a discussion that I would rather not replay. In this discussion, a person came under fire tonight. That person is the closest thing I have had for a father since my father died. I have always fiercely held true to this belief that this person was a godsend to me. When I was at my lowest time in my life, he was there. When I had nowhere to go, he was there. When I had no money, he was there. When I had no food or power, he was there. Always making sure that I had what I needed. When we were at our peak in this life, we had a small empire. Five businesses successfully run. My life was charted. I was to take over this empire when the right time came. But the right time never came. Because he suffered a series of heart attacks, and I, a bleeding ulcer. I could not bear the burden of five business. I tried. I couldn't do it. In the end it was like it was in the beginning. Work all the time and sleep maybe 3 hrs if I was lucky.
Over a decade after the beginning, and only about a year and a half since the end, I am still in debt to this man. I repay him, becuase, as a student of the course called life, he is my ultimate teacher. He is like Buddha. He is like Jesus. He is like and unlike, anyone you have ever met. He is so giving of himself and his resources, that he shines a golden light.
He picked me up from the ground when he first met me, and I have been indebted to him since.
I almost lost him. The heart attacks. I was mad. Mad, becuase I was thinking, "How the hell can I be cursed twice, the same way, in life?" And God responed. He said, "I think you are losing sight of your path. You, need to learn to slow down and listen."
So I did.
And then I lost it again, until tonight.
That is just what I am hearing. Slow down and listen. Is this the way you want your life?
I want to honor those who have honored me. I want to love those that have undoubtedly loved me, through all. I want to never, ever, forget that what I have been taught in life, is a lesson I needed to learn. I will never dishonor those who display that. Never. Not my father, not Bill. They have been my biggest fans in life, and they have believed in me. That I would know the truth. That I would be wise enough to discern between rhetoric and truth.
I know the truth. I know that to know the truth, one must first let go of all perceptions.
Then the truth becomes clear.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Bloggers Unite!
(previous post, old blog 11/5/07, giving my girls props!)
I just have to say, if you really want an interesting read, you need to go to http://www.violentacres.com/.
She is an anonymous writer, whom I think is one of the more profound writers on the internet. Some call it blogging, but I get tired of the new slang due to the technology age. Point is, this woman writes what is. She doesn't try to put a spin on it, she just tells it like she sees it. And as a human, isn't that all we can really do? Relate on another human level....not like I am better than you because I drive an SUV (aka Stupid Useless Vehicle) or because I have a better job, or because I had a better upbringing....she tells it how it is. And that is refreshing.
I have been reading her for about 1.5 years now, always through another site which I am going to stop even visiting because it is really starting to lack in a lot of areas. Mostly in the fact that the posts are few and far between and they are really lacking in any kind of .....well, anything....in fact, he has another writer contributing, and between the two, there still isn't anything worth a damn.
So, VA, I have been reading you, and I like knowing that there is someone out there that has had just as weird and bad and good of a life growing up. I agree with a lot of your views, and I feel a kind of kindred spirit thing going on. You know nothing of me, but if you and i were to meet, I feel that we would like to know each other. (um, this isn't a proposition....)
So readers, all 2 of them of mine, please go and check out VA. She rocks. And she speaks truth. I know how she feels when she has been accused of making it all up. I have been to, and well, I ONLY WISH I had had a normal (or anything resembling it) life. But yet it makes you (the past) who you are.
VA's post today about christmas really rang true. I have been fighting my work on the pre thanksgiving christmas bullshit. Oh, btw, I am kinda subsequently being fired for it. Well, fired in a way that they don't have to pay unemployment. Cut my hours til I quit, or take me off the schedule completely and not actually terminate me. All because I embrace a different part of the year, and was grilled for 2 days about it. I think it happened right around the time my boss said, "I hate halloween, but I guess some people would say that about christmas" Well, fuck yeah....so I said it. He looked at me as if I had nailed Jesus to the cross myself.
So I just wanted to say, right on VA for speaking the truth. That's exactly why I read you and hell, who knows, I might send a few readers your way....
http://www.violentacres.com/
oh, and one of the links on her page I like a lot too, well worth it, if only for the fact that you learn the meaning of the word bomboclaat. I actually made up a little ditty set to a reggae tune that I sing in the shower dedicated to the uber smelly dog of Jamaican Insult.
http://widelawns.blogspot.com/
And as a closing I would like to ask that you take a look at wide lawn's birthday challenge, and VA's backing it up. How about this guys, why don't we do it for christmas too? I mean, VA's got a point with the commercialism. .Why don't we just ask for ppl to give to (name your charity or charities) instead? Or better yet, instead of shopping, spend that time, and it is a lot when you think about shopping for christmas, actually volunteering your time to help those less fortunate. It DOES make a difference. Not only for them, but yourself as well.
Rock on VA and Wide Lawns, you have a dedicated reader for sure.
Psss....pass it on.
I just have to say, if you really want an interesting read, you need to go to http://www.violentacres.com/.
She is an anonymous writer, whom I think is one of the more profound writers on the internet. Some call it blogging, but I get tired of the new slang due to the technology age. Point is, this woman writes what is. She doesn't try to put a spin on it, she just tells it like she sees it. And as a human, isn't that all we can really do? Relate on another human level....not like I am better than you because I drive an SUV (aka Stupid Useless Vehicle) or because I have a better job, or because I had a better upbringing....she tells it how it is. And that is refreshing.
I have been reading her for about 1.5 years now, always through another site which I am going to stop even visiting because it is really starting to lack in a lot of areas. Mostly in the fact that the posts are few and far between and they are really lacking in any kind of .....well, anything....in fact, he has another writer contributing, and between the two, there still isn't anything worth a damn.
So, VA, I have been reading you, and I like knowing that there is someone out there that has had just as weird and bad and good of a life growing up. I agree with a lot of your views, and I feel a kind of kindred spirit thing going on. You know nothing of me, but if you and i were to meet, I feel that we would like to know each other. (um, this isn't a proposition....)
So readers, all 2 of them of mine, please go and check out VA. She rocks. And she speaks truth. I know how she feels when she has been accused of making it all up. I have been to, and well, I ONLY WISH I had had a normal (or anything resembling it) life. But yet it makes you (the past) who you are.
VA's post today about christmas really rang true. I have been fighting my work on the pre thanksgiving christmas bullshit. Oh, btw, I am kinda subsequently being fired for it. Well, fired in a way that they don't have to pay unemployment. Cut my hours til I quit, or take me off the schedule completely and not actually terminate me. All because I embrace a different part of the year, and was grilled for 2 days about it. I think it happened right around the time my boss said, "I hate halloween, but I guess some people would say that about christmas" Well, fuck yeah....so I said it. He looked at me as if I had nailed Jesus to the cross myself.
So I just wanted to say, right on VA for speaking the truth. That's exactly why I read you and hell, who knows, I might send a few readers your way....
http://www.violentacres.com/
oh, and one of the links on her page I like a lot too, well worth it, if only for the fact that you learn the meaning of the word bomboclaat. I actually made up a little ditty set to a reggae tune that I sing in the shower dedicated to the uber smelly dog of Jamaican Insult.
http://widelawns.blogspot.com/
And as a closing I would like to ask that you take a look at wide lawn's birthday challenge, and VA's backing it up. How about this guys, why don't we do it for christmas too? I mean, VA's got a point with the commercialism. .Why don't we just ask for ppl to give to (name your charity or charities) instead? Or better yet, instead of shopping, spend that time, and it is a lot when you think about shopping for christmas, actually volunteering your time to help those less fortunate. It DOES make a difference. Not only for them, but yourself as well.
Rock on VA and Wide Lawns, you have a dedicated reader for sure.
Psss....pass it on.
Closing the Circle
(Post from 11/25/07)
I just realized something. An epiphany, if you will. Here goes. Every significant, life altering event in my life has come full circle. Every single thing. It's freaky weird. And it all has to do with where I am working. Check it out.
I now work at National Car Rental which is located in the Holiday Inn Airport. I started work on Nov. 16th. The 18th anniversary of my father's death. Not only did I work at National for a short time about a decade ago, but I married a man that worked at National. Prior to that, I had dated a man that worked at National, with whom I got pregnant, and had to make a decision I will never make again. This very same man, whom remained a close friend moved on Nov. 16th, the very same day that I started work at National. The man that was my first love, Chris, used to work at the Holiday Inn. He was murdered 10 years ago on Nov. 17th. And the 18th was Bret's birthday. And I about had a life altering move then too. But didn't. The circle is closed I think.
Does anyone see the correlataion as I do? To me it's just freaky wierd.
I've been waiting....
I just realized something. An epiphany, if you will. Here goes. Every significant, life altering event in my life has come full circle. Every single thing. It's freaky weird. And it all has to do with where I am working. Check it out.
I now work at National Car Rental which is located in the Holiday Inn Airport. I started work on Nov. 16th. The 18th anniversary of my father's death. Not only did I work at National for a short time about a decade ago, but I married a man that worked at National. Prior to that, I had dated a man that worked at National, with whom I got pregnant, and had to make a decision I will never make again. This very same man, whom remained a close friend moved on Nov. 16th, the very same day that I started work at National. The man that was my first love, Chris, used to work at the Holiday Inn. He was murdered 10 years ago on Nov. 17th. And the 18th was Bret's birthday. And I about had a life altering move then too. But didn't. The circle is closed I think.
Does anyone see the correlataion as I do? To me it's just freaky wierd.
I've been waiting....
Merry Christmas!
(previous post on old blog 12/25/07 early morning)
So here it is, first new blog in some time. Partly because I now live life, real life, not online. So much has gone on....started a new job, as my last post says. Here's where it gets good. I moved. Finally. Out of the shithole I was living in to a place where I not only have space, but privacy, and solitude, and let's not forget the quiet. Oh the quiet. Spend 3 months living underneath ppl that fight constantly, fuck constantly, and seem to puke constantly. I had nothing but nightmares while I was there. Sleep was not good. In fact, I felt more tired after sleep than before it. Now, oh now, I sleep well. Part of it may be that I am now sleeping on the bed that I used to sleep on before I left for Canada. And I have acquired a few of my old possesions again, thanks mom...
I finally got moved in over the weekend. Just in time. I had told Bret all I wanted for Christmas was a place of our own. Well, we are here, albeit with floors of plywood. We ripped up all the flooring, and are relaying it. Oak Laminate.....it will be nice. We are going to paint it in a kind of a southwest theme. Make it all warm and cozy.
On other notes, work is going well, I am ranked 2 in upselling, and I'm the noob. So the others probably hate me, but I'm making some dough finally. Trying to pay off what I have borrowed since being back in the country. I came back in debt, so one can imagine....
Things on the homefront have been good. Bret and I had a little rough spot at the beginning of the month, but all has been pudding since then, mainly cause I hadn't been online. And I think it is has done me well. I need to live life instead of a virtual life.
I had no money to buy anything this xmas. So I gave away things, and donated. Even though I have nothing and am barely above the poverty line myself. I also made things, like coupon books. People can redeem them for my services, and there is nothing expected in return. I gave one tonight, and the person said it was the most creative and heartfealt gift they had ever gotten. Made me feel good.
So here it is, Christmas morning, and I hope all are doing well, and all have a good night. Some of you I will be seeing tomorrow, others I will see some other time.
Peace be to all.
So here it is, first new blog in some time. Partly because I now live life, real life, not online. So much has gone on....started a new job, as my last post says. Here's where it gets good. I moved. Finally. Out of the shithole I was living in to a place where I not only have space, but privacy, and solitude, and let's not forget the quiet. Oh the quiet. Spend 3 months living underneath ppl that fight constantly, fuck constantly, and seem to puke constantly. I had nothing but nightmares while I was there. Sleep was not good. In fact, I felt more tired after sleep than before it. Now, oh now, I sleep well. Part of it may be that I am now sleeping on the bed that I used to sleep on before I left for Canada. And I have acquired a few of my old possesions again, thanks mom...
I finally got moved in over the weekend. Just in time. I had told Bret all I wanted for Christmas was a place of our own. Well, we are here, albeit with floors of plywood. We ripped up all the flooring, and are relaying it. Oak Laminate.....it will be nice. We are going to paint it in a kind of a southwest theme. Make it all warm and cozy.
On other notes, work is going well, I am ranked 2 in upselling, and I'm the noob. So the others probably hate me, but I'm making some dough finally. Trying to pay off what I have borrowed since being back in the country. I came back in debt, so one can imagine....
Things on the homefront have been good. Bret and I had a little rough spot at the beginning of the month, but all has been pudding since then, mainly cause I hadn't been online. And I think it is has done me well. I need to live life instead of a virtual life.
I had no money to buy anything this xmas. So I gave away things, and donated. Even though I have nothing and am barely above the poverty line myself. I also made things, like coupon books. People can redeem them for my services, and there is nothing expected in return. I gave one tonight, and the person said it was the most creative and heartfealt gift they had ever gotten. Made me feel good.
So here it is, Christmas morning, and I hope all are doing well, and all have a good night. Some of you I will be seeing tomorrow, others I will see some other time.
Peace be to all.
New Developments!
(Another previous post on said other blog on 01/12/08)
As usual, a lot has gone on with me since last posting. For starters, I am learning to snowboard! Woohoo! Man that shit is fun! I went last weekend for the first time at Cataloochie.....like I said, man what a good time. I haven't had that much fun/not fun in a long time. What was not fun was the first few hours. What was fun was the next few hours. It took a bit for me to get the hang of it, but I did get a hold of it fairly quickly. Where it wasn't fun, was how hard I was having to work just to stand. After my bindings were adjusted to better suit my height and stance, hell it was a blast! I was going to go this weekend for a short bit, but decided I would have better use of time if I went on my day off...coming in 2 days. I am going out on my own. And I can't fucking wait.
On other ground, things at home are going good, and work is going great. I really like where I work, because it is structured, and there are actual guidelines to go by. I do like a creative side to work, but here lately, I can't find a balance with it. So now, I just take happiness in my workload.
On other fronts, I have been giving religion a rethinking. This is a damn touchy subject with me, so know I do not tread lightly on it. I have been a self proclaimed pagan for a long time now. Until a few months ago. I really started to disect some things about my beliefs. I had been told by more than a few ppl that for a pagan I acted awful christian. Hmmmm.......after much study and thought I have come to this conclusion. I really think that I truly believe in a early form of christianity. Not the roman version, not anyone's version, other than that of the variety born in the UK at the time of the fall of paganism as a main belief. It was an assimilation of pagan and christian beliefs. Now those who know me and know me well, would shit thier pants. I have long and hard fought that entire movement of assimilation. What happened was that I was brought face to face with why I fought it. I will be quite honest in saying that for many many years I blamed "God" for all that went wrong in my life. I figured that if god was the reason I had all my problems that I could easily dismiss the power and teachings that could aid me. I chose the hard road. WTF is wrong with me? Well this topic and subsequential questions came out of it. You know what? The answers I had for them were not easy to swallow. In fact I am still struggling with it. But only because I am one stubborn SOB. And I hate to say I am wrong, though I will. Point is, I would have to say that my core beliefs are shifting. And not because I was forced to. Because I have finally faced the music.
A lot of this has to do with my dad's death. This is the one area of my life that I have neglected for way too long. I accept his death. I never accepted why it had to happen. I just accepted that it did. Well, sirs, that ain't good enough. What it takes is strength and courage to really ask yourself why you turned your back on god. And instead, tried to justify your actions, when there really was no justification needed. Only understanding.
I am being guided by 4 ppl very close to me on this. They have seen for some time that I am not who I say I am. At least not spiritually. I am regaining a different sense of being. And you know what? It feels right. ( I never in a million years thought I would ever say that) I don't go to church, and haven't even confessed all of my thoughts yet. The closest I came was with Bret one night. And even then, I couldn't go through with it. For some reason, I am still not ready to....this is the closest I have come to that.
I was going to go into another topic, but it deserves a blog of it's own. Had some realizations lately, did a little research, and am somewhat surprised by my findings. As not to keep you in total suspense, what this blog will have to do with is UFO's and abductions, and dream sequences, and history, and what I found was astounding. It only backs up what I seem to have known from the get go. It's eerie creepy. Only because I half wanted to believe I was crazy for making the claims that I did. But now....now, I think that not only was I right, but I am seeing the future. It's a bit fucked up, but if you listen to Coast to Coast at all, it would be no stranger than a breadcrumb.
So ready yourselves for an in depth blog about how not only did we come from an alien species, but many different ones, and how the history of the world is somehow tied to it, and how we will not fall desolate in "rapture" or whatever, how where it will matter is the intergalactic war that will take place on our planet. Call me nuts, but I shit you not when I say I have dreamed of this. Over and over. Since I was a child. I am apparantly not the only one to have these dreams. I have found out recently. Here's where it gets tricky......the tie in of places and names, especially dating to latin beginnnings. Oh it get's good, so stay tuned.
I feel I have rambled enough for tonight. Peace to all.
As usual, a lot has gone on with me since last posting. For starters, I am learning to snowboard! Woohoo! Man that shit is fun! I went last weekend for the first time at Cataloochie.....like I said, man what a good time. I haven't had that much fun/not fun in a long time. What was not fun was the first few hours. What was fun was the next few hours. It took a bit for me to get the hang of it, but I did get a hold of it fairly quickly. Where it wasn't fun, was how hard I was having to work just to stand. After my bindings were adjusted to better suit my height and stance, hell it was a blast! I was going to go this weekend for a short bit, but decided I would have better use of time if I went on my day off...coming in 2 days. I am going out on my own. And I can't fucking wait.
On other ground, things at home are going good, and work is going great. I really like where I work, because it is structured, and there are actual guidelines to go by. I do like a creative side to work, but here lately, I can't find a balance with it. So now, I just take happiness in my workload.
On other fronts, I have been giving religion a rethinking. This is a damn touchy subject with me, so know I do not tread lightly on it. I have been a self proclaimed pagan for a long time now. Until a few months ago. I really started to disect some things about my beliefs. I had been told by more than a few ppl that for a pagan I acted awful christian. Hmmmm.......after much study and thought I have come to this conclusion. I really think that I truly believe in a early form of christianity. Not the roman version, not anyone's version, other than that of the variety born in the UK at the time of the fall of paganism as a main belief. It was an assimilation of pagan and christian beliefs. Now those who know me and know me well, would shit thier pants. I have long and hard fought that entire movement of assimilation. What happened was that I was brought face to face with why I fought it. I will be quite honest in saying that for many many years I blamed "God" for all that went wrong in my life. I figured that if god was the reason I had all my problems that I could easily dismiss the power and teachings that could aid me. I chose the hard road. WTF is wrong with me? Well this topic and subsequential questions came out of it. You know what? The answers I had for them were not easy to swallow. In fact I am still struggling with it. But only because I am one stubborn SOB. And I hate to say I am wrong, though I will. Point is, I would have to say that my core beliefs are shifting. And not because I was forced to. Because I have finally faced the music.
A lot of this has to do with my dad's death. This is the one area of my life that I have neglected for way too long. I accept his death. I never accepted why it had to happen. I just accepted that it did. Well, sirs, that ain't good enough. What it takes is strength and courage to really ask yourself why you turned your back on god. And instead, tried to justify your actions, when there really was no justification needed. Only understanding.
I am being guided by 4 ppl very close to me on this. They have seen for some time that I am not who I say I am. At least not spiritually. I am regaining a different sense of being. And you know what? It feels right. ( I never in a million years thought I would ever say that) I don't go to church, and haven't even confessed all of my thoughts yet. The closest I came was with Bret one night. And even then, I couldn't go through with it. For some reason, I am still not ready to....this is the closest I have come to that.
I was going to go into another topic, but it deserves a blog of it's own. Had some realizations lately, did a little research, and am somewhat surprised by my findings. As not to keep you in total suspense, what this blog will have to do with is UFO's and abductions, and dream sequences, and history, and what I found was astounding. It only backs up what I seem to have known from the get go. It's eerie creepy. Only because I half wanted to believe I was crazy for making the claims that I did. But now....now, I think that not only was I right, but I am seeing the future. It's a bit fucked up, but if you listen to Coast to Coast at all, it would be no stranger than a breadcrumb.
So ready yourselves for an in depth blog about how not only did we come from an alien species, but many different ones, and how the history of the world is somehow tied to it, and how we will not fall desolate in "rapture" or whatever, how where it will matter is the intergalactic war that will take place on our planet. Call me nuts, but I shit you not when I say I have dreamed of this. Over and over. Since I was a child. I am apparantly not the only one to have these dreams. I have found out recently. Here's where it gets tricky......the tie in of places and names, especially dating to latin beginnnings. Oh it get's good, so stay tuned.
I feel I have rambled enough for tonight. Peace to all.
Morningmares
(This is a previos post to a blog I used to run regularly. I will be posting some of the better posts from this blog to make up for my lack of writing this month. This post is on 03/01/08)
I'm reading a book right now, Ishmael. It is starting out great. I like the writing, and the story is captivating. Without giving too much of a spoiler, it has to do with a gorilla and infinite wisdom. It is complex, yet simple, kind of like Jonathan Livingston Seagull. I'm only about 50 pages into it, just started, but it is shaping up quite nice. Looking for a good read, give it a whirl.
I had a very weird day. Didn't sleep well, had a fight with my man as soon as he woke up, harsh words, apologies, then back to sleep, morningmares, then the day alone. Tried to get my car inspected and the oil changed, spent an hour and a half trying to find a place open to do it (they used to be open on Saturdays, what happenned?) Then to work at 4. Slow night there too. Home at around 12:30, want to play poker, and new comp won't let me load the program. Probably simple, but I don't feel like messing with it tonight. Just perusing the net, catching up on some blogs. Feeling just all around weird tonight. Must be a moon phase, or a planet changing houses.
Morningmares, the same as nightmares, but in the morning. I have them every single time I get up in the morning, after 30mins to an hour, decide I need more sleep. I go back to sleep, and every time, I have a nightmare. It doesn't matter if I wake up in a good mood or not, if the morning interactions are smooth or not. It just doesn't matter. I rarely, if ever, have a nightmare at night. So I renamed them morningmares. They are very vivid, and I always wake up so upset, shaken, disturbed, and out of touch with this plane, that it takes me at least 30 mins to and hour and a half to get right in the head, to shake it mentally. Then normally the rest of the day it will consume my thoughts as I analyze the bejesus out of it. They always seem so real. And I normally wake after something very terrible happens. I wake and my heart is racing, I'm breathing heavy and normally scared. I jump out of bed as if it a bed made out of hot coals. And that normally causes an immediate imbalance in my equilibrium. And I stumble or fall. It's like I have to get out of my bedroom as quickly as possible...it's like I bring the dream into reality for a bit. Does anyone else do that too? How do you feel when you have nightmares, and are they so real that you wonder if it really did happen? Mine always involve people I care about.
Chime in in the comments section with your experiences in nightmares/morningmares.
I'm reading a book right now, Ishmael. It is starting out great. I like the writing, and the story is captivating. Without giving too much of a spoiler, it has to do with a gorilla and infinite wisdom. It is complex, yet simple, kind of like Jonathan Livingston Seagull. I'm only about 50 pages into it, just started, but it is shaping up quite nice. Looking for a good read, give it a whirl.
I had a very weird day. Didn't sleep well, had a fight with my man as soon as he woke up, harsh words, apologies, then back to sleep, morningmares, then the day alone. Tried to get my car inspected and the oil changed, spent an hour and a half trying to find a place open to do it (they used to be open on Saturdays, what happenned?) Then to work at 4. Slow night there too. Home at around 12:30, want to play poker, and new comp won't let me load the program. Probably simple, but I don't feel like messing with it tonight. Just perusing the net, catching up on some blogs. Feeling just all around weird tonight. Must be a moon phase, or a planet changing houses.
Morningmares, the same as nightmares, but in the morning. I have them every single time I get up in the morning, after 30mins to an hour, decide I need more sleep. I go back to sleep, and every time, I have a nightmare. It doesn't matter if I wake up in a good mood or not, if the morning interactions are smooth or not. It just doesn't matter. I rarely, if ever, have a nightmare at night. So I renamed them morningmares. They are very vivid, and I always wake up so upset, shaken, disturbed, and out of touch with this plane, that it takes me at least 30 mins to and hour and a half to get right in the head, to shake it mentally. Then normally the rest of the day it will consume my thoughts as I analyze the bejesus out of it. They always seem so real. And I normally wake after something very terrible happens. I wake and my heart is racing, I'm breathing heavy and normally scared. I jump out of bed as if it a bed made out of hot coals. And that normally causes an immediate imbalance in my equilibrium. And I stumble or fall. It's like I have to get out of my bedroom as quickly as possible...it's like I bring the dream into reality for a bit. Does anyone else do that too? How do you feel when you have nightmares, and are they so real that you wonder if it really did happen? Mine always involve people I care about.
Chime in in the comments section with your experiences in nightmares/morningmares.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Fire! Fire!
Over Memorial Day weekend, I went to a bonfire/cookout at the last minute. I had no other plans and was off for the weekend, so what the hell. I'm in!
The shindig was in Marion, way east of here, and a dry county....those bastards! We stopped off in Black Mountain to get some suppplies. We got all kinds of goodies for an awesome cookout. Hamburger, hot dogs, sausage, baked beans, veggies, chips, dip, and LOTS O' BEER!
Needless to say I got a little fuckard. Just a skosh....
We, at one point, had a fire that was 8 feet high and burning strong. It got kinda chilly up here in the mountains, and I remember just sticking close to it. After a relaxing evening of mega drinking and marvelling at the wonder of nature that is fire, I decided to crash. *side note, I can stare at fire for hours, and never get bored, just more ingrossed in the dance of the flames*
My place of sleeping...a hammock.
I hadn't done that in years. There was once a time in my life where I lived on the mountain just to the north of Mt. Mitchell (highest mountain east of the Mississippi River). I lived in the open. I was staying at this place that my boyfriend at the time knew of. The owner of the property used to be a prolific club owner in town, he sold out and went wild. He had built this one room shack on the top of a mountain, complete with rain water recepticles and solar showers. He had somehow hauled up an old 50's style Coca-Cola chest-style cooler, complete with bottle opener. Once a month, he would haul up like 100 lbs of ice, and that was how he kept his food and beer cold. I cooked everything on an open fire, in a very nice fire pit he had built with the granite on the mountain. At the time, I thought it was heaven. I woke up every morning with the most spectacular views. I would open my eyes to the sunrise over a 6684' peak. Nothing but color in the panoramic view of the range. And the air, so fresh. I loved it there.
But this guy, he had some weird things about him...for one, he didn't mind us staying there as long as we did not bother him. Two, he hunted....in the nude. Three, motherfucker was just weird. For the most part, I never even saw him. I stayed there over a month. Well, one night, it rained so hard that it hurt. I tried to shield myself from it, but to no avail. It was literally coming from all directions. I pleaded with Michael to see if he would let us in the shack. He reluctantly asked. The guy was not happy to be woken in the middle of the night by the two vagrants sleeping in his hammock. But he obliged, and let us in. We were allowed to sleep on the top bunk of his bunk bed. Now, there is no ladder. I am 5'2". This did not bode well. I was to try to jump up to a bed that was at least 7 feet high. I went for it, my arms buckled, I fell. CRASH! That really pissed dude off. I gave it another go, and got in. But damn, it wasn't easy for a hobbit like me.
I hadn't slept in a hammock since. I was about 21 at the time, and now I am 32. Big difference in comfort level. It was great while I was in it alone. But when Bret joined me, it got interesting. The whole balance thing. Seemed easier back when.
I woke up when I actually rolled out of the hammock onto the ground. It wasn't a far fall, maybe a foot. Somehow, he didn't wake up when he was almost catapulted out of the damn thing. I got up, stoked the coals of the fire, and watched the sunrise.
I packed up all his music gear, and woke him. Sweet kisses in the morning sun. Regardless of the discomfort of the night's sleep, it was still nice to wake up in the fresh morning air, without even so much as a sleeping bag. It's a primitive and good feeling.
I love it.
The shindig was in Marion, way east of here, and a dry county....those bastards! We stopped off in Black Mountain to get some suppplies. We got all kinds of goodies for an awesome cookout. Hamburger, hot dogs, sausage, baked beans, veggies, chips, dip, and LOTS O' BEER!
Needless to say I got a little fuckard. Just a skosh....
We, at one point, had a fire that was 8 feet high and burning strong. It got kinda chilly up here in the mountains, and I remember just sticking close to it. After a relaxing evening of mega drinking and marvelling at the wonder of nature that is fire, I decided to crash. *side note, I can stare at fire for hours, and never get bored, just more ingrossed in the dance of the flames*
My place of sleeping...a hammock.
I hadn't done that in years. There was once a time in my life where I lived on the mountain just to the north of Mt. Mitchell (highest mountain east of the Mississippi River). I lived in the open. I was staying at this place that my boyfriend at the time knew of. The owner of the property used to be a prolific club owner in town, he sold out and went wild. He had built this one room shack on the top of a mountain, complete with rain water recepticles and solar showers. He had somehow hauled up an old 50's style Coca-Cola chest-style cooler, complete with bottle opener. Once a month, he would haul up like 100 lbs of ice, and that was how he kept his food and beer cold. I cooked everything on an open fire, in a very nice fire pit he had built with the granite on the mountain. At the time, I thought it was heaven. I woke up every morning with the most spectacular views. I would open my eyes to the sunrise over a 6684' peak. Nothing but color in the panoramic view of the range. And the air, so fresh. I loved it there.
But this guy, he had some weird things about him...for one, he didn't mind us staying there as long as we did not bother him. Two, he hunted....in the nude. Three, motherfucker was just weird. For the most part, I never even saw him. I stayed there over a month. Well, one night, it rained so hard that it hurt. I tried to shield myself from it, but to no avail. It was literally coming from all directions. I pleaded with Michael to see if he would let us in the shack. He reluctantly asked. The guy was not happy to be woken in the middle of the night by the two vagrants sleeping in his hammock. But he obliged, and let us in. We were allowed to sleep on the top bunk of his bunk bed. Now, there is no ladder. I am 5'2". This did not bode well. I was to try to jump up to a bed that was at least 7 feet high. I went for it, my arms buckled, I fell. CRASH! That really pissed dude off. I gave it another go, and got in. But damn, it wasn't easy for a hobbit like me.
I hadn't slept in a hammock since. I was about 21 at the time, and now I am 32. Big difference in comfort level. It was great while I was in it alone. But when Bret joined me, it got interesting. The whole balance thing. Seemed easier back when.
I woke up when I actually rolled out of the hammock onto the ground. It wasn't a far fall, maybe a foot. Somehow, he didn't wake up when he was almost catapulted out of the damn thing. I got up, stoked the coals of the fire, and watched the sunrise.
I packed up all his music gear, and woke him. Sweet kisses in the morning sun. Regardless of the discomfort of the night's sleep, it was still nice to wake up in the fresh morning air, without even so much as a sleeping bag. It's a primitive and good feeling.
I love it.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Brokedown Palace
So, a friend of mine wanted me to post a certain story on this blog. This is one helluva a story, if you ask me. It has gone down in the book of legends. It is the story of my last Grateful Dead show. (The horror)
Here we are, June of 1995. My roommie, Kevin and I are pretty damn serious deadheads. All we do is trade shows, go to shows, and constantly listen to shows. This run, that we are going to is in Washington, DC. It's a run of 2 consecutive nights, and we are hoping to get into both.
At that time, I was one broke motherfucker. In fact, I quit a job just to go to this run of shows. (And I am so glad I did) Personally, I have about $70 for the trip. Yikes. We forge ahead. We pack bananas and bread and peanut butter and jelly, and water. Bare essentials, folks. We set out north in the middle of the night.
I am driving through the northeastern part of Tennessee when I almost kill us. Whoever decided to put a 55 mph speed limit on a road that shoudn't have been more than 35 mph, is to blame. (It wasn't me, I swear! :) Of course, we don't die, and keep going.
When the sun rises, we are about halfway up the Blue Ridge mtns in Virginia. I am starting to get really excited! Almost there!
When we finally do roll into DC, we go to find a campground. I forget the name of the place we stayed, but it was pretty cool. We found our spot, and set up camp. We had some really cool neighbors that were all about some frisbee, and MGD, and homemade bongs. We met them and spent some "quality" time with them. They were to be our neighbors for the next few days. Then we decide to go to RFK. (which, unfortunately, no longer exists, neither does the Omni)
We make it throught the awful traffic of DC, and yes, we did flip off the IRS building and yelled "Fuck you!" Windows were open in the building so someone had to hear us. I am such a rebel!
We make it to RFK. Wow, this place is huge! We find our spot in the parking lot and set to procuring some tix to the show. It's raining, and generally a little miserable with the heat and humidity. In fact, a guy took a piss in the lake and lightning hit and and fucked him up! When we finally get to trying to find tix..... SOLD OUT. Fark! We scour all night until half the show is over, and by then we just resigned to being outside the show. The beauty of it was that we could still hear the show. Just from a bit of a distance.
Somehow, Kevin and I separated, and I met some really cool cats that smoked me down, and gave me some to take back with me. I still thank you to this day, beautiful stranger.
We are kinda bummed we didn't get in the first night. We go back to the campground after the show and hope for a better tomorrow. We party with our neighbors, and end up getting pretty fucked up (at least I did).
We wake up the next day, and have new hope. We set out early for RFK, hoping to get tix and not make this a wasted trip. Here's were we should've known better....
A young african-american approached us with two tix. They sure as fuck looked real enough. He was offering them at face value. We were so desperate that we were easily suckered. We tried to get into the show. A test that the guy did on the tix showed they were fake.
DENIED.
What the fuck? I traveled over 700 miles to not get in? I don't think so. Kev and I pondered for a bit what to do. For me, that was the last of my money. I had no choice. What I did next, I don't and never did feel right about. But I did it.
We decided to try to find a sucka as unsuspecting as us. And pass them off. We found a couple of yuppies and figured that they could AFFORD to buy another set, after they figured out the ones they got from us were fake. We found em. A young college age couple, very well dressed.
I did the deed, and sold them the tix, then hightailed it straight into a crowd of hundreds. I quickly changed shirts and even moved my car. Just in case. I felt like shit for doing it. But I had no other choice if I wanted to see the band. And well, hell, I didn't come 700 miles for nothing.
I will burn in hell for that later, I know it.
We ended up getting tix from the box office after that. It was a Sunday night for the 2nd show, and wasn't sold out. (We should've gone there first...but who knew) We're in! Woohoo!
So we enter the show, and find the sweet spot. Right beside the soundboard. That's where ya want to be if you want the goods. We are treated to an opening set by Bob Dylan. Then and interim, with Dylan and Garcia, most noteably playing Rainy Day Women 17 & 35.
EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED!
The night is wonderful. Of course, Vince Welnick sucks, but given that it was my absolute last GD Show, I am still in great appreciation of it. We got an awesome setlist, and some serious boogie on that night. What I will never forget is the encore. Brokedown Palace. Jerry's hair blowing in the wind. The sweet words cascading from him....the music in harmony with all. I cried. Somehow, I knew this was the last I would see of him. Somehow....
I don't even remember getting back to the campground, I just remember Jerry. .. Papa. Where have you gone? We need you!
As a side note, I do remember that earlier that day we had walked through a minefield of broken glass. I was barefoot, and luckily only got one piece in my foot. But I did dance in the mud barefoot all night, and never gave it a second thought. (Minor surgury was preformed 5 days later to get it out)
Imagine.....just for a bit, the breeze blowing, the sweet notes of Jerry's guitar, the burnt up voice of an old man, an old man that is our papa.
Fare you well, my honey,
fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing
are flown, except you alone.
Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and my knees,
I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed in
the waterside,
In my time, I will roll, roll roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside
I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
River going to take me,
sing me sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy
all the way back home.
Its a far gone lullaby,
sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come
since I first left home.
Goin home, goin home, by the riverside
I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river will roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well,
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
~Brokedown Palace
Grateful Dead
Here we are, June of 1995. My roommie, Kevin and I are pretty damn serious deadheads. All we do is trade shows, go to shows, and constantly listen to shows. This run, that we are going to is in Washington, DC. It's a run of 2 consecutive nights, and we are hoping to get into both.
At that time, I was one broke motherfucker. In fact, I quit a job just to go to this run of shows. (And I am so glad I did) Personally, I have about $70 for the trip. Yikes. We forge ahead. We pack bananas and bread and peanut butter and jelly, and water. Bare essentials, folks. We set out north in the middle of the night.
I am driving through the northeastern part of Tennessee when I almost kill us. Whoever decided to put a 55 mph speed limit on a road that shoudn't have been more than 35 mph, is to blame. (It wasn't me, I swear! :) Of course, we don't die, and keep going.
When the sun rises, we are about halfway up the Blue Ridge mtns in Virginia. I am starting to get really excited! Almost there!
When we finally do roll into DC, we go to find a campground. I forget the name of the place we stayed, but it was pretty cool. We found our spot, and set up camp. We had some really cool neighbors that were all about some frisbee, and MGD, and homemade bongs. We met them and spent some "quality" time with them. They were to be our neighbors for the next few days. Then we decide to go to RFK. (which, unfortunately, no longer exists, neither does the Omni)
We make it throught the awful traffic of DC, and yes, we did flip off the IRS building and yelled "Fuck you!" Windows were open in the building so someone had to hear us. I am such a rebel!
We make it to RFK. Wow, this place is huge! We find our spot in the parking lot and set to procuring some tix to the show. It's raining, and generally a little miserable with the heat and humidity. In fact, a guy took a piss in the lake and lightning hit and and fucked him up! When we finally get to trying to find tix..... SOLD OUT. Fark! We scour all night until half the show is over, and by then we just resigned to being outside the show. The beauty of it was that we could still hear the show. Just from a bit of a distance.
Somehow, Kevin and I separated, and I met some really cool cats that smoked me down, and gave me some to take back with me. I still thank you to this day, beautiful stranger.
We are kinda bummed we didn't get in the first night. We go back to the campground after the show and hope for a better tomorrow. We party with our neighbors, and end up getting pretty fucked up (at least I did).
We wake up the next day, and have new hope. We set out early for RFK, hoping to get tix and not make this a wasted trip. Here's were we should've known better....
A young african-american approached us with two tix. They sure as fuck looked real enough. He was offering them at face value. We were so desperate that we were easily suckered. We tried to get into the show. A test that the guy did on the tix showed they were fake.
DENIED.
What the fuck? I traveled over 700 miles to not get in? I don't think so. Kev and I pondered for a bit what to do. For me, that was the last of my money. I had no choice. What I did next, I don't and never did feel right about. But I did it.
We decided to try to find a sucka as unsuspecting as us. And pass them off. We found a couple of yuppies and figured that they could AFFORD to buy another set, after they figured out the ones they got from us were fake. We found em. A young college age couple, very well dressed.
I did the deed, and sold them the tix, then hightailed it straight into a crowd of hundreds. I quickly changed shirts and even moved my car. Just in case. I felt like shit for doing it. But I had no other choice if I wanted to see the band. And well, hell, I didn't come 700 miles for nothing.
I will burn in hell for that later, I know it.
We ended up getting tix from the box office after that. It was a Sunday night for the 2nd show, and wasn't sold out. (We should've gone there first...but who knew) We're in! Woohoo!
So we enter the show, and find the sweet spot. Right beside the soundboard. That's where ya want to be if you want the goods. We are treated to an opening set by Bob Dylan. Then and interim, with Dylan and Garcia, most noteably playing Rainy Day Women 17 & 35.
EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED!
The night is wonderful. Of course, Vince Welnick sucks, but given that it was my absolute last GD Show, I am still in great appreciation of it. We got an awesome setlist, and some serious boogie on that night. What I will never forget is the encore. Brokedown Palace. Jerry's hair blowing in the wind. The sweet words cascading from him....the music in harmony with all. I cried. Somehow, I knew this was the last I would see of him. Somehow....
I don't even remember getting back to the campground, I just remember Jerry. .. Papa. Where have you gone? We need you!
As a side note, I do remember that earlier that day we had walked through a minefield of broken glass. I was barefoot, and luckily only got one piece in my foot. But I did dance in the mud barefoot all night, and never gave it a second thought. (Minor surgury was preformed 5 days later to get it out)
Imagine.....just for a bit, the breeze blowing, the sweet notes of Jerry's guitar, the burnt up voice of an old man, an old man that is our papa.
Fare you well, my honey,
fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing
are flown, except you alone.
Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and my knees,
I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed in
the waterside,
In my time, I will roll, roll roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside
I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
River going to take me,
sing me sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy
all the way back home.
Its a far gone lullaby,
sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come
since I first left home.
Goin home, goin home, by the riverside
I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river will roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well,
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
~Brokedown Palace
Grateful Dead
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Wicked Trip Part 2
So George H. Bush comes to eat lunch with a family in Hendersonville. It is roughly 1993, around November, say 13th...
The interstates are backed up. Unheard of at that time. The bridges and overpasses had cops with sniper rifles at each end. I was tripping on at least the equivalent of 4-5 hits of acid. I had no idea what was going on, but I had developed a theory. wink wink.
My "theory" was that a man had called the police and said that he would jump off a bridge, but they just didn't know which one. So, in my naive state, I am thinking that the cops are actually trying to save someone. Not snipe them.
So we are in traffic for quite a while. We had the windows of the bus rolled down, and we eventually scooted up to another car that had the windows down. I decided to ask...
"Do you know what is going on here?"
She replies with, "President Bush is in town."
And my response is an astounding...."So?"
Nice one butthead. She says, "It's in case anyone is trying to kill him."
To which I boldy reply, "I'll do it!"
Um, bad news bears. She scowled at me at rolled the window up. I realized what I had said after I said it. What a dumbass! But hey, I was 16 and on acid.
Somehow, we make it through the traffic jam, and without being captured by men in black...whew. I don't know exactly why, but we did stop at a Wendy's after that. I remember walking in the parking lot toward the restauarant feeling like I was hovering at least 2 feet in the air above the ground. I was gliding. I giggled about it. It felt funny, good, and a little ticklish.
I remember getting a frosty and just mainly playing with it. It wasn't too long after that I had to go home. Shit, are you serious?
I was still mega peaking. 5 hits into it, and about 8 hours into it....I had a long way to go. I had to go home. To my mom, who was my worst nightmare at the time.
Oh holy hell, it's a damn wonder I didn't experience a nuclear meltdown when that time came. I arrived home and my grandmother was there too. I went into the living room and turned on the TV. I found Little Nikita. I loved, absolutely loved River Phoenix. He was one sexy bastard. So I was hooked.
I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to watch Little Nikita, and simultaneously trying not to pull out all of the carpet fibers. I just knew my mom knew something was up. I was going nuts about it inside. Therefore, when I asked her if I could stay over at Mira's house, and she said yes, I thought it was a trick. I almost fucked it up for myself.
I called Mira, and asked her to come and get me, she said....."Be there in 20 mins."
The interstates are backed up. Unheard of at that time. The bridges and overpasses had cops with sniper rifles at each end. I was tripping on at least the equivalent of 4-5 hits of acid. I had no idea what was going on, but I had developed a theory. wink wink.
My "theory" was that a man had called the police and said that he would jump off a bridge, but they just didn't know which one. So, in my naive state, I am thinking that the cops are actually trying to save someone. Not snipe them.
So we are in traffic for quite a while. We had the windows of the bus rolled down, and we eventually scooted up to another car that had the windows down. I decided to ask...
"Do you know what is going on here?"
She replies with, "President Bush is in town."
And my response is an astounding...."So?"
Nice one butthead. She says, "It's in case anyone is trying to kill him."
To which I boldy reply, "I'll do it!"
Um, bad news bears. She scowled at me at rolled the window up. I realized what I had said after I said it. What a dumbass! But hey, I was 16 and on acid.
Somehow, we make it through the traffic jam, and without being captured by men in black...whew. I don't know exactly why, but we did stop at a Wendy's after that. I remember walking in the parking lot toward the restauarant feeling like I was hovering at least 2 feet in the air above the ground. I was gliding. I giggled about it. It felt funny, good, and a little ticklish.
I remember getting a frosty and just mainly playing with it. It wasn't too long after that I had to go home. Shit, are you serious?
I was still mega peaking. 5 hits into it, and about 8 hours into it....I had a long way to go. I had to go home. To my mom, who was my worst nightmare at the time.
Oh holy hell, it's a damn wonder I didn't experience a nuclear meltdown when that time came. I arrived home and my grandmother was there too. I went into the living room and turned on the TV. I found Little Nikita. I loved, absolutely loved River Phoenix. He was one sexy bastard. So I was hooked.
I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to watch Little Nikita, and simultaneously trying not to pull out all of the carpet fibers. I just knew my mom knew something was up. I was going nuts about it inside. Therefore, when I asked her if I could stay over at Mira's house, and she said yes, I thought it was a trick. I almost fucked it up for myself.
I called Mira, and asked her to come and get me, she said....."Be there in 20 mins."
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
One Wicked Trip
It was November 13, 1992. I had just gotten my driver's license. So did one of my best friends. Her parents had a 1986 Volkswagon Westfalia Bus. It was awesome. So on this particular weekend, my friend, Mira, and some of my other best buds, decide....hey it would be a great idea to split a 10 strip and go into the woods in Mira's bus.
Voila, an idea is born.
It's early Saturday morning. We converge at the Waffle House. Us, in our teenage angst wasteland, decide this is a GOOD way to spend a Saturday. We eat breakfast, and head out. I am in charge of dispensing the LSD, as I was the one who procured it. I'm cutting tabs with a razor on the little countertop in the bus, while Mira is driving. Little did I know that I was absorbing the liquid right off the paper. I eat two hits, and Mira and Chris eat one. Darrah, waits. Mira drives up on the Parkway, we head south. We are having a great time on the way. Listening to good tunes, and laughing all the way. We get to Graveyard Fields. This is where we are going to play today. We start off on the trail. It goes well until about 2/3rds of the way down the trail to the first falls. I start to lose it. Everything is morphing. Roots are moving, limbs are dancing. I can hear the heartbeat of the earth. We decide to sojourn at the the first falls. It was while I was at the base of the falls that I had an incredible urge. I had to climb that waterfall.
I watched as the water came rushing down. Over rocks, roaring to the earth. I was overtaken with a primal urge. And that urge was to climb that damn waterfall. I decided to tackle it from the west side. I don't know why, this was actually the more difficult side to climb.
I set off across the rocks to the left shore. I mushed through damp earth. I reached the first of many trees. I looked up, and saw a way. I jumped, grabbed on, and proceeded, limb by fucking limb, to the top. Through at least 20 trees, all connected in some way. I am an orangutang! OOOO EEEEEE!
So I thought. I got to the top, so exhilerated, so breathless from my climb. I was ecstatic! I did it! I climbed the waterfall! I am king of the world!
Then, I turned around. SON OF A BITCH! I was at the dead beginning of the trail. The bridge was familiar. The surrounding landscape was familiar. Well, fuck me.
I turned around and looked down the waterfall, and my friend Mira was making some strange hand gestures at me, and there was (in my opinion) a really creepy dude right behind her taking pictures of her. I thought that she was trying to tell me that he had made her cry. I was gesturing to her to watch out for that guy. What she was really trying to tell me was the she just sat on a pin, and it went right in her ass, and it made her cry. Well, I didn't know this, and was going apeshit on top of the waterfall. Our friend, Chris, decided he was going to get this situation under control. He climbed the waterfall, the exact same way as I did. He got to me and let me know everything was allright. Mira and Darrah jumped into 40 degree or below water, and swam like fish.
Chris talked me into walking down the trail, who takes the trail? Me, I take the trees....And everything is going ok, until he stepped on a rock. And that rock sucked his foot in like a super sponge. I start to instantly flip out. I mean, hell, my friend is being eaten by a rock, for God's sake!
I'm yelling at him to get off the g'damn rock! And not only that, I am yelling at any passerby, "Do NOT step on that rock! You must avoid the rock!" Needless to say, I had a few really strange looks shot my way. Chris navigates me past the rock, while I am just flipping the fuck out. We make it back down to the bottom of the waterfall. By then Mira and Darah are mere popsicles. We head back to the bus. We get in and bundle up, and start to try to cook something hot. We have brocolli and cheese RiceARoni. This event will go down in history.
Mira fires up the oven. We start the rice, water, butter mixture in the pot. Check. The water comes to a boil. Super Check! We are on our way! Then 8 mins into it, the flame dies. Nothing. Dead in the water.
Hey, isn't there a little convenience store at Pisgah Inn? Let's check it out. We go. It EXISTS! We are saved! If you count popcorn, chips, and soda as salvation. It's not what we wanted, but it'll do. We go back out to the bus after what must have been 20 mins picking out munchie food.
We forget about our previous plight of not being able to finish the Rice A Roni. Mira cranks the bus and we head out of the parking lot. She takes a sharp right to manuever through. The pot of Rice A Roni skids across the countertop. I see it moving ever so slowly. It goes off the edge. At that precise point, the pot dumped it's contents into the air. I saw rice granual after rice granual flip slowly end over end, making a strange WHOOSH WHOOSH sound everytime an end flipped over. Slowly it worked it's way through the air. The mass of rice and mixture. Then all of a sudden BOOOM! SPLAT! KABLOWIE! All over Darrah!
She was sitting on the floor of the bus, and Chris and I were in the bench seat, Mira driving. The look on Darrah's face was priceless! I laughed so damn hard I thought my midsection was going to disentigrate! I will never forget it to this day!
On the way back, we ran into another scenario, Bush I's visit to the Carolinas, and that is another post entirely. So is the one that continues into the night.
We got back to Mira's house, and let Ryden, her dog, clean Darrah, and the inside of the bus. That, my friends, was only the beginning. Stay tuned for Part 2 and 3.
Voila, an idea is born.
It's early Saturday morning. We converge at the Waffle House. Us, in our teenage angst wasteland, decide this is a GOOD way to spend a Saturday. We eat breakfast, and head out. I am in charge of dispensing the LSD, as I was the one who procured it. I'm cutting tabs with a razor on the little countertop in the bus, while Mira is driving. Little did I know that I was absorbing the liquid right off the paper. I eat two hits, and Mira and Chris eat one. Darrah, waits. Mira drives up on the Parkway, we head south. We are having a great time on the way. Listening to good tunes, and laughing all the way. We get to Graveyard Fields. This is where we are going to play today. We start off on the trail. It goes well until about 2/3rds of the way down the trail to the first falls. I start to lose it. Everything is morphing. Roots are moving, limbs are dancing. I can hear the heartbeat of the earth. We decide to sojourn at the the first falls. It was while I was at the base of the falls that I had an incredible urge. I had to climb that waterfall.
I watched as the water came rushing down. Over rocks, roaring to the earth. I was overtaken with a primal urge. And that urge was to climb that damn waterfall. I decided to tackle it from the west side. I don't know why, this was actually the more difficult side to climb.
I set off across the rocks to the left shore. I mushed through damp earth. I reached the first of many trees. I looked up, and saw a way. I jumped, grabbed on, and proceeded, limb by fucking limb, to the top. Through at least 20 trees, all connected in some way. I am an orangutang! OOOO EEEEEE!
So I thought. I got to the top, so exhilerated, so breathless from my climb. I was ecstatic! I did it! I climbed the waterfall! I am king of the world!
Then, I turned around. SON OF A BITCH! I was at the dead beginning of the trail. The bridge was familiar. The surrounding landscape was familiar. Well, fuck me.
I turned around and looked down the waterfall, and my friend Mira was making some strange hand gestures at me, and there was (in my opinion) a really creepy dude right behind her taking pictures of her. I thought that she was trying to tell me that he had made her cry. I was gesturing to her to watch out for that guy. What she was really trying to tell me was the she just sat on a pin, and it went right in her ass, and it made her cry. Well, I didn't know this, and was going apeshit on top of the waterfall. Our friend, Chris, decided he was going to get this situation under control. He climbed the waterfall, the exact same way as I did. He got to me and let me know everything was allright. Mira and Darrah jumped into 40 degree or below water, and swam like fish.
Chris talked me into walking down the trail, who takes the trail? Me, I take the trees....And everything is going ok, until he stepped on a rock. And that rock sucked his foot in like a super sponge. I start to instantly flip out. I mean, hell, my friend is being eaten by a rock, for God's sake!
I'm yelling at him to get off the g'damn rock! And not only that, I am yelling at any passerby, "Do NOT step on that rock! You must avoid the rock!" Needless to say, I had a few really strange looks shot my way. Chris navigates me past the rock, while I am just flipping the fuck out. We make it back down to the bottom of the waterfall. By then Mira and Darah are mere popsicles. We head back to the bus. We get in and bundle up, and start to try to cook something hot. We have brocolli and cheese RiceARoni. This event will go down in history.
Mira fires up the oven. We start the rice, water, butter mixture in the pot. Check. The water comes to a boil. Super Check! We are on our way! Then 8 mins into it, the flame dies. Nothing. Dead in the water.
Hey, isn't there a little convenience store at Pisgah Inn? Let's check it out. We go. It EXISTS! We are saved! If you count popcorn, chips, and soda as salvation. It's not what we wanted, but it'll do. We go back out to the bus after what must have been 20 mins picking out munchie food.
We forget about our previous plight of not being able to finish the Rice A Roni. Mira cranks the bus and we head out of the parking lot. She takes a sharp right to manuever through. The pot of Rice A Roni skids across the countertop. I see it moving ever so slowly. It goes off the edge. At that precise point, the pot dumped it's contents into the air. I saw rice granual after rice granual flip slowly end over end, making a strange WHOOSH WHOOSH sound everytime an end flipped over. Slowly it worked it's way through the air. The mass of rice and mixture. Then all of a sudden BOOOM! SPLAT! KABLOWIE! All over Darrah!
She was sitting on the floor of the bus, and Chris and I were in the bench seat, Mira driving. The look on Darrah's face was priceless! I laughed so damn hard I thought my midsection was going to disentigrate! I will never forget it to this day!
On the way back, we ran into another scenario, Bush I's visit to the Carolinas, and that is another post entirely. So is the one that continues into the night.
We got back to Mira's house, and let Ryden, her dog, clean Darrah, and the inside of the bus. That, my friends, was only the beginning. Stay tuned for Part 2 and 3.
In Which I Become Technologically Advanced
Over the last two weeks, I have gone nuts in the technology department. I have bought a new laptop, TV, and cell in the span of less than 2 weeks. And I can integrate them all. I can put music, picture, and video files from my comp on my phone. I can put files from my phone on my comp. I can use my TV as a HUGE monitor. I can surf the web, TV (yeah, streaming TV and preloaded episodes), music (streaming and loaded), and have GPS, and On Demand. All on the phone. The comp has an assload of memory and capability. I'm downloading movies, burning them to DVD if I really like them, or just hooking the cable between the comp and TV, and watching them once. I have my sound system hooked up to the TV, and everything that goes through it gets 5.1 sound. I watched Revenge of the Sith on my new TV (Sony Bravia 32" LCD HDTV), and holy fuck, I about creamed my pants. This, my friends, was how it was meant to be seen! I am in technology heaven. I can access my comp by remote access from my phone if I want to. I can even have files from my phone, directed through my laptop, print out, remotely. Aha!
So much you can do! I have been playing with all my new gadgets a lot. And I am continually surprised.
Maybe becuase I have been hiding under a rock for a while.
Welcome to the 21st Century!
So much you can do! I have been playing with all my new gadgets a lot. And I am continually surprised.
Maybe becuase I have been hiding under a rock for a while.
Welcome to the 21st Century!
The Ho From Room One-Oh-Foh!
It's a Friday night, and of course the Sharkadelics are playing the house bar. Now, a lot of people seem to like the Sharkadelics, but I think they suck. First of all, they are a purely cover band. How bad must it suck to make your claim to "fame" by riding the coattails of real musicians. I only come down hard on them, because I have spent years learning to play music, in a lot of different aspects. One thing I do know is this, I wouldn't have kept on if I wasn't writing my own music. I'm digressing.
So the house cover band is on, and the same crowd of degenerates is out in force. Though, tonight, we have a newcomer. At least, it's the first time I have seen her. This woman, roughly around 40, was in a too-tight pair of jeans, and a tube top. Yes, ladies and gentleman, a tube top. Didn't those go out in the late '80's with legwarmers?
She had her tongue clear down this young man's throat. I say young man, how about overgrown kid. He was maybe 24 and that is if I am guessing at the possible end of this man's age spectrum. He was in baggy pants and a loose T-shirt. And eating it up. Ick.
So these two go about this same behavior for about an hour and a half, right out on the sidewalk. Several people had made comments about getting a room (we are at a hotel)...
After a while, the young man helps the "lady" through the door and asks me where room 104 is. I direct them to the front desk, and he finds out. He walks her (really it was more like half-dragging) her to room 104. Her key doesn't work. He leaves her in the hall, and comes back to ask me for a new keycard. Again, I direct him to the front desk. When, if ever, will these people see the sign over my head that denotes a different business?
The front desk lady says that she can't give him a key, because he is not a guest. So she asks him to bring the girl to the desk. Turns out she isn't the guest of the hotel either. A man that has been staying there a month is. According to the bartender, this "ho" met the guy in 104 earlier that night, and he had said she could stay with him tonight. Then he left the bar some time after that and retired to his room.
Anyhow, the front desk ends up calling the guy in the room. He comes out. The young man that was "helping" her to her "room", was like....WTF? And left. So now it just her and dude from 104. He takes her back to his room, and they are in there maybe 20 mins. They come out, and come up to my desk, dammit again. They ask for paper and pen, and I oblige. She writes her number down, and she slurs:
"You won't call me. You won't call me."
"Yes I will." and he ushers her out the door. Now use your imagination, folks. What do YOU think she did in there for 20 mins?
Well, the hotel staff and I made quite a bit of fun at this little episode. I knew that I would see her again. Just had the feeling. And sure enough, Sunday night, she was back. And with the dude from 104.
And I gave a little shout out to the front desk...."It's the 'ho from one-oh-foh!'"
So the house cover band is on, and the same crowd of degenerates is out in force. Though, tonight, we have a newcomer. At least, it's the first time I have seen her. This woman, roughly around 40, was in a too-tight pair of jeans, and a tube top. Yes, ladies and gentleman, a tube top. Didn't those go out in the late '80's with legwarmers?
She had her tongue clear down this young man's throat. I say young man, how about overgrown kid. He was maybe 24 and that is if I am guessing at the possible end of this man's age spectrum. He was in baggy pants and a loose T-shirt. And eating it up. Ick.
So these two go about this same behavior for about an hour and a half, right out on the sidewalk. Several people had made comments about getting a room (we are at a hotel)...
After a while, the young man helps the "lady" through the door and asks me where room 104 is. I direct them to the front desk, and he finds out. He walks her (really it was more like half-dragging) her to room 104. Her key doesn't work. He leaves her in the hall, and comes back to ask me for a new keycard. Again, I direct him to the front desk. When, if ever, will these people see the sign over my head that denotes a different business?
The front desk lady says that she can't give him a key, because he is not a guest. So she asks him to bring the girl to the desk. Turns out she isn't the guest of the hotel either. A man that has been staying there a month is. According to the bartender, this "ho" met the guy in 104 earlier that night, and he had said she could stay with him tonight. Then he left the bar some time after that and retired to his room.
Anyhow, the front desk ends up calling the guy in the room. He comes out. The young man that was "helping" her to her "room", was like....WTF? And left. So now it just her and dude from 104. He takes her back to his room, and they are in there maybe 20 mins. They come out, and come up to my desk, dammit again. They ask for paper and pen, and I oblige. She writes her number down, and she slurs:
"You won't call me. You won't call me."
"Yes I will." and he ushers her out the door. Now use your imagination, folks. What do YOU think she did in there for 20 mins?
Well, the hotel staff and I made quite a bit of fun at this little episode. I knew that I would see her again. Just had the feeling. And sure enough, Sunday night, she was back. And with the dude from 104.
And I gave a little shout out to the front desk...."It's the 'ho from one-oh-foh!'"
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Come On Baby, Light My Fire!
This past Saturday night, I was with my guy, at one of his band practice sessions. This is a band that is into heavy, dark, electronica. He drums for them, and I think he does great. The band is comprised mainly of people that work for Moog Music. If you don't know about Moog, do some research. Robert Moog changed the face of music. Not only with synthesizers, but with effects pedals, and other means of modulating signals.
Anyhow, they were running kind of long at practice, and I had been talking with one of the band member's wife all night. Practice was at thier house, and it was the first time I had really been there the whole time. She is someone I went to school with and was friends with for the short time that she was at my school. She was getting hungry, and said that her husband normally did the cooking on the grill. She had been marinating chicken and steak all day, and it was calling to her.
Being the grillmeister that I am, I offerred my assistance. She said if I wanted to I was welcome to do it. So I did.
I carefully stacked the charcoal in the grill, and asked for lighter fluid. She told me it was the pre-soaked kind. Oh boy. The last time I used that stuff, it CAUGHT my grill on fire, and damn near burned down my house. So I was apprehensive of using it, but I did anyway. I lit the coals and they flamed up so high that I thought that the roof of her front porch might ignite. I closed the lid and opened the vents. After a bit, I thought that it was burning at a reasonable rate. Then I made my mistake. I opened the lid.
A frickin' fireball shot out at me!
And it caught me on fire! Holy cripes!
My hair was on fire, my shirt was on fire, and I freaked the fark out! I was patting at both my hair and shirt like a madwoman. I got it out in the span of about 5 seconds, but it scared the bejesus out of me! All we could smell was burning hair. Then after a minute of freak out, I realized my arm really hurt. I looked down, and everywhere that was exposed was burnt. Not badly, but like a flash burn. My shirt was crispy, and all the hair on my arm and the little hairs on your face on my right side, all burnt to nubs. The hair on my head, took a good loss to the right side, but it's pretty hard to tell. I have so much hair, no one says that they notice, but I do.
Regardless of the human barbeque, the chicken and steak came out excellent.
Anyhow, they were running kind of long at practice, and I had been talking with one of the band member's wife all night. Practice was at thier house, and it was the first time I had really been there the whole time. She is someone I went to school with and was friends with for the short time that she was at my school. She was getting hungry, and said that her husband normally did the cooking on the grill. She had been marinating chicken and steak all day, and it was calling to her.
Being the grillmeister that I am, I offerred my assistance. She said if I wanted to I was welcome to do it. So I did.
I carefully stacked the charcoal in the grill, and asked for lighter fluid. She told me it was the pre-soaked kind. Oh boy. The last time I used that stuff, it CAUGHT my grill on fire, and damn near burned down my house. So I was apprehensive of using it, but I did anyway. I lit the coals and they flamed up so high that I thought that the roof of her front porch might ignite. I closed the lid and opened the vents. After a bit, I thought that it was burning at a reasonable rate. Then I made my mistake. I opened the lid.
A frickin' fireball shot out at me!
And it caught me on fire! Holy cripes!
My hair was on fire, my shirt was on fire, and I freaked the fark out! I was patting at both my hair and shirt like a madwoman. I got it out in the span of about 5 seconds, but it scared the bejesus out of me! All we could smell was burning hair. Then after a minute of freak out, I realized my arm really hurt. I looked down, and everywhere that was exposed was burnt. Not badly, but like a flash burn. My shirt was crispy, and all the hair on my arm and the little hairs on your face on my right side, all burnt to nubs. The hair on my head, took a good loss to the right side, but it's pretty hard to tell. I have so much hair, no one says that they notice, but I do.
Regardless of the human barbeque, the chicken and steak came out excellent.
One of Those
I read a lot of blogs, one of which deals with waiting tables and the idiocy of customers. Normally, the author of the blog will give hilarious examples of supreme idiocy from the other side of the fence. This time I have a story about idiocy from a server.
Last week, my brother was in town for a week with his girlfriend (now fiance, he proposed while here). On Tuesday, we went to this Irish pub that is about 8 blocks from my house. I love the place, it's new, and very cozy. We went so that we could get furschnickered and walk home. I had been raving about this place to him since before he came up. So he and his girl, and my guy and I, went on up to the pub.
Now, part of the reason I wanted to go there, was that they have Belhaven Twisted Thistle on tap.
We get there, sit down, and start to order. When it came my turn, I ordered the above.
"I'd like a pint of Belhaven Twisted Thistle, please."
"All the beer is warm." the server flatly states.
"ALL of the beer is warm?" I ask.
"Well, the bottles are cold."
Hmmm, ok. Just need to look over the beer list, which I do not have. So I look over to the coolers and think I see a Newcastle.
"Do you have Newcastle?" I inquire.
"Umm, yes.......no."
Let me interject and say that the server was in no way suggesting a beer, or even listing what they might have, nor offering a list. Then my brother decides to give me a little shit.
"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" he ribs me.
At that precise moment, the server rolls her eyes and says, "I get at least one of those a night."
What?
'One of those?' First off, I am not a difficult person at all. My brother was giving me a hard time, which he always does when we mess around. I finally just choose a beer they more than likely have, and the server leaves to get our drinks. Needless to say, I am a bit ticked off at the fact that she openly insulted me, so we decide to go outside to the patio area, debating on leaving because of her behavior. I do not go to an establishment to be insulted.
Let me ask a question here....if your living depended on tips, would you openly insult a customer? Especially a 4 top that just sat down? I don't think so. Oh, and it got better.
Throughout the meal, she complained to us ABOUT serving us. Then she complained about the music in the pub. Sarah McLaughlin. We were all pretty peeved at this point, so my brother decides to run with it.
"Sarah McLaughlin? I love her! What is wrong with Sarah McLaughlin?" he chides.
"It's music to slit your wrists to."
You have got to be kidding me.
We get the bill after getting griped at by her because we asked for to-go boxes. We asked for them because we were leaving as we had enough of this girl. Sensing something was amiss, the owner appeared at our table and asked us how everything was. Well, I let him know. I also added that I had operated a restaurant/bar myself, so I knew what I was talking about. I handed the guest check book to the owner and said, "I normally tip 20-30%, but this time I only tipped 10% and a written tip at the bottom of the charge slip.....'Tip: Don't call the paying customer "one of those."'
To be quite honest, she was lucky to get 10%. Most would have left nothing after being treated so badly throughout the meal. But hey, I am not a cold-hearted bitch, just "One of Those".
Last week, my brother was in town for a week with his girlfriend (now fiance, he proposed while here). On Tuesday, we went to this Irish pub that is about 8 blocks from my house. I love the place, it's new, and very cozy. We went so that we could get furschnickered and walk home. I had been raving about this place to him since before he came up. So he and his girl, and my guy and I, went on up to the pub.
Now, part of the reason I wanted to go there, was that they have Belhaven Twisted Thistle on tap.
We get there, sit down, and start to order. When it came my turn, I ordered the above.
"I'd like a pint of Belhaven Twisted Thistle, please."
"All the beer is warm." the server flatly states.
"ALL of the beer is warm?" I ask.
"Well, the bottles are cold."
Hmmm, ok. Just need to look over the beer list, which I do not have. So I look over to the coolers and think I see a Newcastle.
"Do you have Newcastle?" I inquire.
"Umm, yes.......no."
Let me interject and say that the server was in no way suggesting a beer, or even listing what they might have, nor offering a list. Then my brother decides to give me a little shit.
"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" he ribs me.
At that precise moment, the server rolls her eyes and says, "I get at least one of those a night."
What?
'One of those?' First off, I am not a difficult person at all. My brother was giving me a hard time, which he always does when we mess around. I finally just choose a beer they more than likely have, and the server leaves to get our drinks. Needless to say, I am a bit ticked off at the fact that she openly insulted me, so we decide to go outside to the patio area, debating on leaving because of her behavior. I do not go to an establishment to be insulted.
Let me ask a question here....if your living depended on tips, would you openly insult a customer? Especially a 4 top that just sat down? I don't think so. Oh, and it got better.
Throughout the meal, she complained to us ABOUT serving us. Then she complained about the music in the pub. Sarah McLaughlin. We were all pretty peeved at this point, so my brother decides to run with it.
"Sarah McLaughlin? I love her! What is wrong with Sarah McLaughlin?" he chides.
"It's music to slit your wrists to."
You have got to be kidding me.
We get the bill after getting griped at by her because we asked for to-go boxes. We asked for them because we were leaving as we had enough of this girl. Sensing something was amiss, the owner appeared at our table and asked us how everything was. Well, I let him know. I also added that I had operated a restaurant/bar myself, so I knew what I was talking about. I handed the guest check book to the owner and said, "I normally tip 20-30%, but this time I only tipped 10% and a written tip at the bottom of the charge slip.....'Tip: Don't call the paying customer "one of those."'
To be quite honest, she was lucky to get 10%. Most would have left nothing after being treated so badly throughout the meal. But hey, I am not a cold-hearted bitch, just "One of Those".
Monday, May 12, 2008
Birth of a Nebula
Today, Zombies With Guns was born. Today, A Force of Nature decided to show itself. Today, a new mind has come into the matrix. Today is the beginning, how far it goes, depends on a lot of variables.
This blog will be a mix of posts. It will be stories of the past, some of which are so incredible, so "unreal" that many of you may think that I am full of shit. Which would be a wrong assumption. I only wish that I had any semblance to a normal upbringing. The things that have happened to me, with me, and around me, have all truly happened. I seem to have some kind of freak magnet lodged in my third chakra.
Other posts will be about current life. Which I can guarantee you will be probably so mundane that you will wonder if I am the same person...alas, I am. As I have grown older, so have I grown wiser. Not to say that I still don't have a wild hair up my arse from time to time.
Yet, there will be other posts that deal with purely existential topics. Ones for the great minds to ponder on.
Welcome to Zombies With Guns, where you never know what you may read about.
This blog will be a mix of posts. It will be stories of the past, some of which are so incredible, so "unreal" that many of you may think that I am full of shit. Which would be a wrong assumption. I only wish that I had any semblance to a normal upbringing. The things that have happened to me, with me, and around me, have all truly happened. I seem to have some kind of freak magnet lodged in my third chakra.
Other posts will be about current life. Which I can guarantee you will be probably so mundane that you will wonder if I am the same person...alas, I am. As I have grown older, so have I grown wiser. Not to say that I still don't have a wild hair up my arse from time to time.
Yet, there will be other posts that deal with purely existential topics. Ones for the great minds to ponder on.
Welcome to Zombies With Guns, where you never know what you may read about.
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