ABC

A is for Apathy
B is for Boredom
C is for I don't Care
D is for Dream
E is for Elephants
F is for Fuck this
G is for Grownup
H is for too much Hair
I is for I know who I am
J is for Just kidding
K is for Kind
L is for Love
M is for Making it work
N is for Never mind
O is for Opals and gems
P is for Pencils and pens
Q is for Quiet sounds deafening
R is for Right hands waving
S is for Signs that I'll make it
T is for Truth
U is for Under my breath I say it
V is for Very much
W is for Welcome
X is for the Xs that haunt
Y is for You don't like plums
Z is for Zed

The letters all spell
Words in my head
Tired and broken and
Bringing the
End.

Default State

I was watching some video on the internet about the Game of Thrones characters and it made me smile. It was only two minutes and as soon as it ended I just felt my whole face fall back into nothing.

I'm sad.

I found out my eldest cat has cancer and may not live to the end of the year. I have had her for 15 years and every day she's more a part of me. I'll have to wrap my head around her not being here, purring on my shoulder. I can't do that yet.

I'm worried.

I still don't have a job. I don't have any income and last night The Fella had to pay a bill for me. I hated it. I'm tired of not being able to pay for things myself. Looking for a job is so disheartening and I'm trying so hard to just stay positive and keep looking and some days, most days lately, that's hard to do.

I'm anxious.

I love driving. I was so afraid of it for so long and now that I've finally found the courage to get out there and try it, I've found I'm pretty good at it. I could still work on parking a bit but I feel comfortable and that's kind of neat. I'm anxious because I still need my license. I need to make an appointment and give it a shot. The idea of a test makes me nervous. Any time my performance might be judged is nerve wracking for me. I'm anxious because it's another expense.


I know I haven't been as affectionate as I usually am. I haven't been as smiley or laughing or fun. I feel like I'm cranky and not saying the right things ever and can't think clearly and that it's just better if I'm not around anyone.  I feel like I'm pushing people away at the same time I'm clinging to them to stay. I feel blah, a little dead inside. I'm on autopilot.

I don't care about a whole lot. I just want to sit with my cat and treasure her. I want to drive and go places at the same time I want to read all day. I want to cook new things and bake treats at the same time I want to go out for dinner. I'm all over the place.

I don't know what I am right now and that makes me worried, anxious.....sad.

Bitch Blog

Feeling kind of cranky this morning. I usually try to focus on the positive but right now? Fuck it. I'm pissy. I'm going to write about all the things that are currently annoying me. It's going to be stupid, and not at all important but hopefully it will make me feel better.

I'm so tired of fighting off a cat when I'm trying to eat. I sit at the dining room table with my coffee and my breakfast and have cats mewing at me, jumping up on the table and staring at me with longing. The Fella and I have made changes in our cooking and eating habits to accommodate the cats for godsakes.  Can't leave anything unattended and if you don't immediately put your dish in the dishwasher after you're done, there will be a cat in the sink to lick it, mark my words. Forget about leaving butter-even shitty unsalted butter-on the counter because it will be licked by a cat. Today while making pancakes, one of them jumped up next to the stove and tried to lick the spatula. I swear to god they will eat us if we die first.

Waking up with a headache is becoming a thing of normalcy and I'm over it. I'm pretty sure it's from eye strain, though how it could be when my eyes have been closed for 6-8 hours, I have no idea. Headaches make me even more cranky and irritable by intensifying things like cats on counters and waning patience. It also makes all noises like annoying neighbor dogs barking and commercials on Pandora seem way louder than they are. The sun is brighter too and that only makes me wish for rain and darkness. It makes watching tv and reading my book painful and that sucks because I don't have anything else to fucking do.

I'm bored. I'm broke. I'm lonely for human interaction. I'm right at the edge of change, toes peeking over the side, body leaning out and yet I can't fall.

I want to drive and go places and I'm not quite there yet and I know it but it still pisses me off because clearly I'm a person that wants instant gratification. I know how unrealistic that is in the grand scheme of things but I still want it.

Kim Davis. Donald Trump. Kanye West. Anything Kardashian. Fat shaming. Racism. Bigotry. Assholes. Game of Thrones spoilers. Ghost cat pee smell. Radio commercials. TV commercials. Unsalted butter. Unanswered text messages. Almost empty containers. Crooked pictures.

Some of these things piss me off more than others. I mean, unsalted butter? Seriously what's the point?

But I also know I'm going to get over this. I'm going to be fine. It will shift again to smiley days. But fuck today and all it's headachey, impatient, unsalted Trumpiness.

Ugh, Society

I have a lot of opinions.

I like to voice them.

But I know how to do it without being a dick. This is why I would never succeed in politics.

I tried tuning things out for awhile. Once the whole Kim Davis thing happened, I was like, ok I'm done. Not even necessarily because of her opinion-though I strongly disagree-but because of the media attention it was receiving. It was frickin' everywhere and outdone only by Trump.

I tried to be uber positive and encouraged others to do the same with happy memes and good vibes. I saw a lot of other people on board but then...it was gone. Like when Dory and Marlin realize it's an angler fish and not just a pretty light, the good feeling was gone.

And then a kid got arrested for building a clock and the internet went apeshit.  There were a few good points brought up about how the situation was handled and I found myself getting all riled up before stepping back. I tried to focus on the feeling of pride I had when I saw people responding predominantly in kind. People like the president were saying, "hey kid, you're awesome." But it could't stop there of course because other people have opinions too.

Why can't we all just be happy? Why does it always have to be an argument? What the shit world? When did you become so pissy?

I think this is something that happens as you get older. You start to realize that the world can be cruel. You realize that life is indeed, not fair and terrible things are happening.

I sometimes wonder if all of this...ugly...was always there and it only seems more prevalent because of social media. When people record racial attacks instead of stepping in and trying to stop it or jump to conclusions about a science project...are we, as a society, that hungry for attention?

There are a lot of things I don't understand about people. Yet I'm still fascinated by them. I wonder what they will do next and brace myself for it. It could be a riot in the middle of the city because another black man was killed or a parade celebrating diversity.

The world may be unfair sometimes, but it's our world. We have to decide what we want to do with it.  My opinion? Just try to not be a dick.

Arachnaphobia

A spider the size of a kraken just scurried across the carpet. Normally, I let the little fellas do their thing (unless they're in the shower-then all bets are off) but this guy I could have ridden.

I called to the Fella for backup.
"Turn on the overhead light."

He spotted the creature right away and turned to me with a look of intensity. "Get the vacuum."

I hauled ass to the living room, thankful we'd been too lazy to put the vacuum away upstairs earlier. I grabbed it and came back to the doorway to find him staring at the floor in the place where Shelob had been when I left.

"Now plug it in and hand me the hose."

I nodded, did as he asked. "Don't take your eye off that bastard."
"Oh no," he said, "I've got him. He's not going anywhere." Pause. "He IS big huh? Better hand me the extension."

He fit the vacuum hose, aimed, and nodded to me, "Ok. Turn it on." I went to turn it off when he stopped me with a wave of his hand, "Give it a minute."

We stood there, vacuuming one spot in the carpet until the Fella announced he could see Aragog was trapped and no longer plotting little evil spider plots behind my bookcase.

It's giant freaky carcass was almost sad, laying there among the cat hair and dust bunnies. Almost.

I felt a little like the girl on the table when there's a mouse, calling the Fella in to 'save' me. Especially when I kissed him and told him he was my hero. To which he replied, "Well it's not like I bare knuckle wrestled him or anything."

But I was able to rationalize my spider death guilt by convincing myself there's no way he hadn't had a good life. I mean, he must have eaten well. Probably was on his way to the neighbor's to eat their 7 year old when he came across my path.

No , the eight legged fiend in a better place now, no doubt partying it up in some weird arachnid heaven with other giant beasts of fright that left this world in a vortex of wind. By the way, The Fella not only emptied the vacuum in to the garbage but then took the garbage out to the garage. He's a keeper that one.

I know now I can safely return to my Stephen King book and not be scared by some creature....wait....

Shut up.

Door Poems

I'm one of those people that has magnet poetry on their fridge. Recently our fridge died and I had to de-magnet before they hauled it away and brought in the new one. I knew there was no way I'd be able to remember any of the little poems that had surfaced, so I grabbed my phone and took a couple pictures. It made me think about when I moved them the first time-what a pain in the ass. No cell phone available for picture taking. I copied all that shit by hand and hoped I didn't miss any of the brilliance friends had created over the years. I found the old poetry-put together and then taken down from my first apartment door in 2001. Bear with me, there's several pages of little pieces of poem. I copied them from the door onto the page, exactly how they were displayed. Just as it was on that door over a decade ago, so it is here.

From 2001:

Passionate breath
will embrace your
mystery

Drool
Pant
Sweat
Lather
Need
all the
Juice
he has

Men
They are repulsive
he loved me
not together
have to ask
how could he?
only a boy

barely
did the
love recall
next vision

feel through
their early
symphony

vanish
like these
sad stars

purple place
blue moment
red snow
pink milk
white delirious
green diamond
peach jealousy

odd tv man

hurry, ask if I will

manipulated
by you
I
cry rain

have him need my time

sun fall
beneath to shadows

a
warm
blue
tiny
moon goddess

shall he
throw me or
keep my virtue

please hear willingly
listen even to the murmurs

you're always better
lightly seduced
please respect

when you stare
at my size
with lying eyes
I cry

suddenly
girl gone mad
smooth frantic

felt
bitter
and
black
as
death

we
surrender dark
I lust for light
I worship it's power
I chant at the storm

drop from
the sky
blessed

tongue like a knife
sweet skin under
my whispers
luscious ache
is
true love?

she is who
I am
Her

I have a garden
and petals

never
use
roses

handsome sausage in a predestined friend

rusting compassion

urge eternity

Dear love,
I'm here
tell the wife

Always
screaming
shaking
pounding

with monogamy
thine still stroke

elaborated gift
from you
blows.

say with a delicate moan

read
ENORMOUS
language

boil
your
head

empty remember

one thousand breaths

turn those hours

was she like a child?

see? still weak

from
two
to
one

have romance
sensual trust

drive me fast

But, she's forever

watch the forest

want my life

open road
may trudge
fall
after me

bewitch cupid

think mostly in here

soar
like
music

sun spray

fiddle
with
smelly feet

Be here

Don't iron

not true

mad spirit

smooth wish

would flood with lies less

so
be
it

come
off the
picture

he comes to me when he's falling
because he knows I'll hold him up


There are a lot of little snippets that perfectly reflect my feelings during that time of my life. Some of the words are sad, some are desperate for companionship, some are silly.

I don't have nearly as much for the more recent group of door poems. Over a decade later my poetry is more lived then told through magnets. I still get inspired sometimes though...

From 2015:
*Again, all poems have been relayed exactly as they were displayed. (And you know that's the truth, cause it rhymed)

from
the
thousand
pound
sad
eat
less

only head sweat

a cold day
in spring

could
never
smooth
time

manipulate iron and earth for blood

did my
mothers weak breath
rob me

from milk
to honey

two finger read

warm spray

sudden light for the garden
shadow about to surrender

a cold day
in spring

why even worship

red
moon
gone
beneath
kindred
blue
star

arm
her essential
ache

we
soar
they
rust

my
enormous
moment

chocolate puppy sausage meat

winter is coming

dream
through
night
mad
by
morning

please play

smeary drool

live
delirious
drunk
frantic
easy
luscious
gentle
raw
fast
open
but
like
life

boiling stare of compassion

I
always
mist
the music

will ask father winter

you
must
run
and
vanish

those who begin behind triumph

wind symphony of death

repulsive skin suit

sordid
tongue

blue as your peach
but shine pink and white

dark knife apparatus

wonder
show

rain like wind
no flood

TV void

a
smooth
delicate
whisper

being in love

one
bed
together
dance

let
none
think
mean

good can take great power

scream to elaborate

urge
want
ask
listen
tell
sing
speak
yell
question
communicate

green
purple
fluff

when
beauty sleeps with
bittersweet
eternity

have
lazy
need

why
talk
language
at all

There's a new fridge now. Clean surface, waiting for creativity to strike. I hope I can find the right words.

Weather

I've always lived in the Pacific Northwest. Rain is not unfamiliar to me. Fall is desperate to begin and it's been damp and gray the last few days. My favorite kind of weather.

The kind of weather that means books in my chair with a blanket and a cat. It means fires and cuddling and sweaters and lovely orange brown and yellow things. It means hot tea on cold mornings and seeing your breath in the air.

Today the sun is playing peek a boo. It beams brightly one moment, full and warm on my skin. The next moment it dashes behind a cloud, turning the sky gray. As I walk around the garden this morning, I find myself waiting for those bursts of sun. I pick up branches from the wet lawn, remnants from the storm last weekend and wipe my brow with the back of my hand. It feels good out here. I feel good.

I go back inside for a second cup of coffee and see my book on the counter. I want to read it but more than that, I want to keep feeling good and the subject is a little dark. I realize I'm hungry and start to create breakfast. Eggs with cheese and tomatoes, toast. It smells like cinnamon in the kitchen from the sprinkling on my coffee. I sing softly to myself as I scramble the eggs. I dance with the cats circling my ankles, content and at ease

The morning sun streams from the window across the table, painting my plate.  I smile, amused by the article I'm reading between bites of toast. I don't know that I miss the rain so much right now. I feel light, hopeful. I feel like the sun is dodging the clouds to spread it's warmth instead of hiding behind them. I feel happy.




I want to drown in this feeling. I think of everything and everyone that makes me feel happy. I take a moment and silently express my gratitude. I contemplate writing about what makes me feel this way and anxiety tells me no one will care. I write about the sun instead-a representation of my feelings. But it's still in there. This need to tell those I care for that I do and my fingers start to fly. It's easy to write when it's about something you are passionate about. I remember this is my blog and my thoughts and that I promised I'd always tell you how I feel about things and I begin.

My dad. He's always the first thing that comes to mind when I'm feeling grateful. He's funny, old enough to be wise, and loves me for who I am. We genuinely like each other as people and I wish I could hang out with him more often. It scares me so much to think about something happening to him-it always has. Since I was old enough to remember, I knew he was going to die. "Daddy might not come home this year", was a phrase I heard often. I'm not trying to be morbid, that's just how it was. His job was dangerous, he may not live to come home in the fall. When he did come home it made it even more of a celebration. Needless to say I kind of hung onto that feeling of dread and while I couldn't possibly be more prepared for it, I'll never be ready for him to be gone. BUT. I know that if it were to happen unexpectedly, I could take a bit of solace in knowing that he loves me and I love him. That, despite anxiety's evil reminder, is what makes me happy. Loving someone is beautiful, but knowing they know? Exquisite.

The girls. I have two very close girl friends, best friends, that know me better than I know myself. I can call or text them any time and I know that they will always respond. They know what I'm talking about with even the fewest words. They've watched me stumble, grow and thrive, just as I have them. Even now as the three of us live separate lives, we're probably the closest we've ever been. They are my sisters, my heart.

My Fella. I truly couldn't have found a better person for me. He is incredibly smart, thoughtful and kind. He is honest and sensitive and supportive. He's a good man that cares about his family and works hard.  And he's nice to waitresses. My grandma once told me that she married my grandpa because he wasn't just nice to her, he was nice to the waitress. My Fella is one of the good ones. I'm lucky to have him.

I'm writing all of this on a computer that I own in a room that is in a house that I live in that has windows that look out over a yard full of green.  I am grateful.

Across the yard I can see my neighbor standing on his deck. He's dancing a little bit with his cell phone in one hand, a joint in the other. My music is on but my windows are closed so it's not mine he hears. I think he sees me seeing him because he stops and looks at his phone. I look away, hoping he's not embarrassed. Dance my friend!

I'm suddenly reminded of a moment shared with someone else and the happiness wanes a bit. I start to remember the argument and I can feel my brow furrow from the memory.  I fight against it, struggle to find the warmth and happiness that began my afternoon. It's still there, a couple paragraphs up. I reread them and sing along to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" because I have to.

I feel the bad memory slip away as I focus more on the present. I reach inside myself for the warmth of the sun and find it, hidden behind a cloud of old pain. I coax it out with the music and a smile, hold it close to me.

It's now brilliant with sun inside and out. The warmth is painting my skin, breeze cool in my hair. I stand still for a moment, again silent with gratitude. My favorite kind of weather.