O' Pioneers

I am not the first or the last woman to ever be single but this phenomenon of being alone and uncomfortable is new to me, I'm perishing in a barren land. My gaggle of brilliant and beautiful friends was once enough for me. After work drinks, late night phone sessions, spa jaunts, mass viewings of movies like In her shoes or Meet the Parents, while eating pizza and Phish food, and the chatting, texting, the conversations, choking on laughter, gargling on nonsense, lavishing in our sisterhood, what happened to those days and those women?

We got older, life got busier, and we lost our minds as we now navigate through a field mine of men. I talk on the phone with them, we laugh at old jokes, cry at new trials, but mostly we commiserate about what he has done, is doing, or will do. I've watched most of my friends become an echo of their once vibrant selves, women stretched, rolled, bended, twisted, and knotted, to be everything he wants with only wisps of themselves intact. TS is working on her PhD in literature, has a great career, and a smile that can cure the blind but she spends her weekends moaning over her man of 10 years who can't decide if he wants to be her boyfriend or not. P has the body of a Latin American goddess, is a well respected teacher with multiple degrees, and just gave up everything to be with a man who treats their relationship like a yo yo. She has chest pains from hurting so much. V can crack up any room, her personality is like lightening, sharp, bright, and sizzling. She's a natural leader who one day we may be voting for, yet she gives herself to man who keeps her a secret and comes by only at night. She too cries, sighs, and lets her smile droop a little bit more each day. I miss my friends, I miss myself.

The carefree, trusting, smiling person I was before I let past relationships define me. Is this the fate of women, to have our dazzling light hidden beneath the scorn, abuse, and hurt men have thrown at us? I refuse to let that be my fate. I'm single and at times when it seems the whole world is paired up, loneliness is a wave swooping over me, it's scary. But losing more of myself to some undeserving person is even scarier. So I'll be that girl sitting at the theater alone, eating dinner at a table for one, buying myself a drink at the bar, yeah I'll be alone but I'll be smiling. It's a new world I'm approaching and I feel happy and scared, isn't that silly, scared to let my own light dazzle, alone.

Oxymoron

Despite the jabbering of this public blog I'm a very private person. People don't know much about me and I like it like that. I keep to myself and you keep to yours. What a laugh, in this world today what is private, I don't know my neighbors but I blog. The last guy I dated didn't know my last name but can tell you my favorite drink, book, and food just by reading these pages. The mattress salesman knows I sleep alone! Now that was a shocker to me, how revealing grocery carts and mattress shopping can be.
Testing mattresses at Sleepy's has always been a desire of mine. I come from a family that bought mattresses out of dark warehouses where plush, pillow top, and posturepedic were unknown terms. First off, I had no idea mattresses were so damn expensive, second, Oh yeah I will forsake sex just to sleep on an ultra plush platinum status King size mattress that cost $5000. The Sleepy's sales guy was great, he knew mattresses,I'm sure he's heard it all but even he inhaled sharply when I told him I was shopping for a mattress size twin. "A twin?" He asked, looking at me closely, " what size is the child?" "Not for a child," I said, " for me." He looked again, seemed to get it then put his flashy smile back on and directed me to the showroom. Then I got embarrassed, I never thought that mattress shopping would reveal so much about me. It was an intimate shopping process, again the Sales man was great but the new "technology" of sleeping required a lot of questions about how, when, and where I sleep. So the sales guy knows I sleep alone, on my tummy, on a day bed I consider vintage and have owned since I was 16. He knows too much.
As does the cashier at C-town. Quick little shopping trip to buy ingredients for Sunday dinner and the cashier says," you must be having people over, I don't see any frozen dinners." That metal mouthed twerp! I was being judged by a teenager ringing me up. Okay, perhaps that is taking it too far but I don't like the idea of the C-town cashier being aware of my food shopping habits. A friend once told me that he bought liquor from different liquor stores because he felt the sales people at the store he used to frequent were judging him. I laughed at him, saying why do you care buy your damn Grey Goose. Now I get what what he was saying. Those comments feel like judgments, invasions into my private space. Like those damn club members savings cards that you have to use to get the sale prices all the while giving your shopping choices away. Or those stores where they ask for your number before ringing you up, LEAVE ME ALONE. I don't want you to know what type of cereal or panty hose I buy. I don't want cashiers and sales people commenting and making assumptions about my life based on what I do or don't have in my cart.
of course I type all this on my blog, viewable by anyone on the world wide web. Can't you tell, I'm a private publicity whore.

Falling

Around this time of year I get into my nesting phase. I buy new winter sheets with twirling Autumn leaf designs or intricate snow flake patterns and even though it's 87 degrees I sip pumpkin lattes and shop for fluttering scarves to twist around my neck, I love this season. In Fall colors burst forth more vibrantly than in spring where everything is just green, the last hooray before the earth slumbers is a passionate cry of goodbye, don't forget me, fire that will soon be quenched. The air is crisp, fallen leaves crunch, fires cackle, and at night the wind howls. I love to watch gusts force the leaves from trees, they scatter like birds disrupted by a chasing dog.
I gather gourds for the table, go apple picking, sip rum and cider, and guzzle dark German beers at various Oktober fests, this season is a flight from color, preparation for the starkness of winter. My final hooray to the dizzying pace of summer, soon I'll curl in my new sheets with the blankets pulled to my nose, reading, getting fatter, letting my hair grow, getting black girl pale, waiting for the scent of spring to revive me. I couldn't live anywhere else but here, God I love this season.
Picture was taken on 10/6/07 as I sailed the Hudson for a scenic Fall Cruise to Bear Mountain. Luscious day it turned out to be, but it started gray under heavy fog that delayed the ship. Despite the sun coming out, an eventual high of 87, and the mountains glowing like lava was spewing forth, this overcast picture of the beginning is my favorite.

Story of O

I know a true rock star, my friend O. A badass chick that just rocked my world with her courage to live and love fiercely and freely. I guess the story began as we waited in the terminal at JFK to board the first of our many flights from NY to India the steamy summer of 2005. I pulled out my pink journal with the silly cat on the cover and perkily jotted The adventure begins!!!! O smiled at me and just nodded, she then said quietly "I think this trip will change my life." Well it did, mine in that I greatly learned to appreciate beef and toilet paper. Hers in that she fell in love.
Tonight she boards a plane to London to be with that man she met 2 years ago, a friend of a friend of a friend at wedding for a friend, who shared a rickety tour bus with us as we jumbled our way to Sri Lanka, Nuyraila, and Bangalore. It was the first time I ever saw anyone fall in love. Love is so goofy, darting glances, silly talk that at times seem so profound, fumbled hand holding, you laugh too loud, and you smile too much, you never get anything right but it never feels wrong. I'm more of a lust girl, seeing them fall in love was cute.
Their dating was 2 years worth of e-mails, texts, and phone talks measured by the ticking minutes of calling cards. When they finally met again after 2 years they were engaged within a week. She came back from that visit with a halo. Caught up in the whirlwind we talked wedding, future plans, babies, I was happy for her and excited to see this story book romance continue along the lines of a fairy tale. (I guess like every other woman who has dreamed of being snow white or Cinderella, I want to believe it can happen)
Well then she bit the apple.
Across the Atlantic Ocean, snuggled in Notting Hill, stewing in dal, wrapped in chappiti, and praying to Balrama, he did the unthinkable, he sent a text to end the relationship. Love purgatory began.
All I could do was listen, there were theories, assumptions, analyzing, wailing, anger, alot of anger and tons of plans to move on. She decided to spend the summer visiting friends in different states, checking out each state as a potential place to live. Shrugging off her old life we agreed was key, freedom from memories and pain.
Three weeks ago she calls to tell me she was moving to London to be with him. He called, he was sorry, he loved her, he got scared, he wants her back, he wants her there and she said yes. She is leaving suburbia, america, she gave up her job, her home, is leaving her family, she is thrilled, not just because of him but because for the first time she isn't going the oh we better play it safe route. She's acting purely on love and gut. Her adventure begins. She told me tonight, I may get there and we can last a week or forever but I have to do this. Her mother is against it, her family thinks she is acting rash, everyone is wagging their finger and saying "I don't trust him, be careful" but my girl is rocking on! She is going to explore Europe with or without him, drink wine for breakfast and run with the bulls. This night as we spoke she sounded as light as snowflakes falling, she said for the first time she is going to do exactly what she wants to do not what is expected of her.
We had similar neat lives, education, comfortable boring jobs, and almost every do right do good category checked off. Good girls, we made our mother's proud so what if it is strangling us? O, the Rock Star, if I had a tenth of her courage I would...
"No one, No one, No one, getting in the way of what I feel for you"
Alicia Keys

White Flag

and when we meet, I know we will, will we hold our tongues? I let go of two friendships this year two friendships I miss so much it's like the lines of my life are drawn in gray. The reasons are so stupid I'm ashamed, one we had a minor fight, I was wrong and I let pride prevent me from saying I was sorry, time has stretched into an abyss and I can't go back. The other, I hurt him, he was wonderful and he wanted to be more than a friend to me but he didn't meet my foolish standards and well, I guess a person can only take but so much. I tried to restore our friendship but he won't answer my calls. He's living by the rules that it's over and somehow I can't. I miss our conversations, his wisdom, his ability to keep things in perspective, and how he always tried to teach me that life is simple not as dramatic as I make it, I should have known he would have had no problem letting go.
And as it always is with my life, I will see them both again and what then? The last time I ended a relationship, I moved on so quickly the sore still oozes. When I met the guy again I couldn't surrender my pride and cut him again as he tried to talk to me. I wish now that I had heard him out and gotten some closure, there are no romantic feelings but when I see him it is uncomfortable.
Men always come again but is never the same and always the same, this time though, I will wave my white flag. Some things are too precious to lose to pride.
" Here you come again and here I go."
Dolly Parton

mature viewing wanted

Strolling down Court street last week, it was one of those golden days of summer the ones that make you sad because the season is ending. The kind of day where you just walk, window shop, and slurp a chai frappuccino while holding hands with the guy you are later going to have sweaty lust laden sex with in an un air conditioned 5th floor walk up. Lovely day and Court street was buzzing with movie trailers and skinny white girls in black with head pieces and clip boards. I was excited, a movie was being filmed, hoping to possibly see Brad Pitt or Gorge Clooney, like some dopey groupie I chased one of those skinny chics in black to find out what movie was being shot. She was sweet, hurried but really nice and answered all of my questions despite taking huge steps in an effort to lose me. It wasn't a movie but a TV show called Gossip Girl being filmed and no I couldn't be an extra (yes I asked).
Never heard of Gossip Girl and it sounded very teen-ish, after my Laguna obsession 2 years ago I hoped to move on to more mature TV viewing. Ha! Monday night I was anxiously waiting for the Hills preview. Shows like the Hills and my soon to be new addiction, Gossip Girl, I peeked the preview and looks like scandalous candy, are my secret shame. A 31 year old woman enjoying teen shows. What is it! A reliving of my youth? hardly my youthful self was never that well dressed or glamorous and you would have faster found me in a library than a club. More like a yearning for that rich fun lifestyle where the biggest problem is whether your going to get a BMW or Mercedes for Christmas. After working 50- 60 hour weeks and attending grad school, I feel like a wrung out dish rag, I haven't worn lipstick all summer. I don't have the energy to get dressed up for night of dancing and flirting but I sure do enjoy watching LC hit the club scene in trendy clothes from the comfort of my couch. Frankly, these teen shows are like cotton candy to me, fluffy, pink, and mindless munching for my tired and overworked nerdy ass. I can't wait to put Gossip Girl on my TiVo.

I Do (not)

Marriage is always made to seem like the icing on a fairy tale life. Once you've got that ring, that's it you've been accepted into the land of " I made it!" though what you made is never exactly clear. Many years ago, freshly out of college and brimming with I'll conquer the world isms, a friend and I ran into former classmates while shopping. The two girls were so overdressed they looked like they had fallen between the pages of Vogue had been chewed up then spit out for being so fashionably irredeemable. They were pacing outside of a dress store in the mall, when my friend and I stopped to say hello the usual small chit chat turned into a soap opera. One of the girls was engaged and she had reason to believe that her fiancee was cheating on her with a sales girl in the store the were pacing in front of. Having already been thrown out of the the store, they were waiting for the girl to come out so they could jump her. The entire time this girl talked her chest heaved with attitude and her engagement ring kept slicing the air. She certainly didn't look happy. I made up some flimsy excuse to leave and even said good luck as my friend and I departed. The girl nodded and said thanks, thinking I meant her soon to be brawl. I couldn't wait till we were far enough to discuss the craziness of that situation, when my friend turned to me and said "did you see her ring? I wish XX would give me a ring?" So the whole cheating fiancee thing apparently escaped her, all she saw was the ring. She continued with she wouldn't even care if they did get married as long as she had a ring to show people.

Fast forward 5 years to me shopping at Macy's Fashion Fair for a sexy shade of red lipstick to wear to a party. The sales lady was very helpful and hooked me up with a bunch of samples and even taught me how to apply the lipstick and liner so my lips were in constant dazzling poutiness. While paying, I noticed a gorgeous ring on the sales lady's hand and complimented her, asking if she was getting married soon. She smiled and said it was a gift from her fiancee, he was going to get her another one to celebrate the 15 years they've been together. She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, after 15 years of being engaged, you upgrade the ring instead of getting married.

Another 5 years later and now I comfort a friend who was to be married this year end. Her fiancee unceremoniously ended their engagement via text. She's devastated, most nights when we talk I don't know what to say to her or even how to comfort her. Marriage/love/relationships have never been alluring to me. Men at their best are props, accessories that tell the world you're not alone. A woman being alone is the biggest fear/insult, unloved, childless, un-womanly. I've had that tossed at me whenever I was being too bitchy or too smart, "keep it up and your going to end up alone." This is what my friend fears, after hearing about an acquaintance's recent wedding, she wailed to me, "that was supposed to be my story." What can I do but tell her that her time will come, despite being successful, smart, and pretty her life will be worthwhile once she gets married. So hold your breath and pray your time comes soon. I want to shout at her that any man that breaks up with you through text message is a roach. That his slimy personality is going to make some woman's life hell and that she should count her blessings and dance in her new freedom. She's like every woman I know, aching for marriage, a ring, the wedding. While on vacation in the Bahamas, one friend turned to me and said, this would be sooo much fun if we were here with our husbands. I was already having fun husband or no husband, the moment was now and I was enjoying it, why couldn't she?

Things are so different now, I'm living life on the side of the single and unmarried . Married friends have become a "we" I can't talk to them without being forced to talk to their mate. Attached friends are consumed by their boyfriends and desires to get engaged. I'm excluded from social events because my single status makes me the fifth wheel. I've heard, we'd invite you but it's ending late and how are you going to get home? umm the 4 TRAIN!!! When I do attend these couple outings it becomes "so when are going to get married and have kids? or my personal favorite, " I'm praying that you meet the right person and have a family, being a mom is wonderful."

I wouldn't get married just to avoid becoming like them! The only appealing thing about marriage to me is the sex on demand and someone to kill spiders. I'm enjoying life now most of the time and anyway, I'm on a diet I don't want icing on my cake.

Magic is Might 7/23/07

Simply overwhemed by this storm of emotions as I close the last page to the last Harry Potter book. What a read! Harry Potter and the Deathly Harrows is by far the most thrilling and exhausting book of the series. I'm in awe of how wonderfully JK Rowling put the pieces of the story together, each book a spicy ingredient for this fiesty dish of an ending. I want to write like that, to create a world so detailed, the characters rich, complex and so alive, stories so juicy, fresh, and intermingled but never blurry, what gift. Rowling closed the door to Potter's world so brilliantly that I don't want more from the series but from her. Will her next books be so enthralling? I can only wait and see, she is gifted and if the depths of her gift were spent on Harry, then it wasn't in vain.

In my heart I longed for Dumbledore's death to be a trick and I was surprised and slightly sad to learn that the blue eye in the mirror wasn't his. Nothing saddened me more than Snape, from the 5th book I had suspected that Snape may have loved Lily, though the author threw her readers off. All this time I despised him and he was truly the most brave man of the series, serving only one master, love. He deserved more, he's like Leo's character from the Departed ( A Damn good movie). The last scene between him and Harry was mind blowing, especially after you learn his story and you feel the intensity in which he stares into Harry's eyes.

The Weasly's are awesome, the best family in the wizarding world. I knew the author would kill off one, she had to but Dammit I liked Fred! Mrs. Weasley calling Bellatrix a Bitch, that whole scene rocked! I do like Bellatrix though, insanity coupled with passion made her very interesting, did she expect to be Voldemort's bride or something?

Voldemort I found rather boring, ok pure blood this pure blood that, when all along he's a half blood. The scene where he relives the killing of the Potters is shocking, especially when we find out what Snape asked of him.

The best part of the entire book is Hermione, what a Rockin Witch! She thought of everything, her quick wit, spells, planning, and plain old common sense saved Harry' s and Ron's ass every single time. That chick deserves a series of her own.
I'm happy they got the ending they deserved. I know it's a story but ahhh what a story, they feel like my friends.

Fat, facts, and friends 6/13/07

Frenemies, is my new favorite word, especially after this past weekend when my "friend" revealed her true thoughts. This weekend was to be the weekend of party blisss. Lovely word, bliss...kinda sizzles, I feel like making love every time I say that word. But I digress, my party bliss weekend was due to my finishing my first semester of grad school with a 4.0 GPA. Me!! the eternal slacker, allergic to studying, I buckled down and got my money's worth from school, 4.0!!! I was so ready to party, I'm talking party like I was an undergrad sneaking into bars and doing shot after shot of turpentine tasting poison before the police raided the place. I went to school in a dorky town, police raids on bars were weekend highlights. But again, I digress. Fast forward 10 years, trendy bar/lounge in NYC, stilettos, smoky eyes, squeezed into butt enhancing pants and a nipple gate black top, feeling oh so glam and so ready to mix mojitos and men. The night went no farther then me applying two coats of Great Lash in my bathroom as "Regulators Round up" echoed from the cd. My very own BFF was over getting ready with me. We've been friends since college not exactly ying to my yang but my girl, my party buddy, man expert, and fashion guru. She's a gorgeous sister who makes Halle Berry look like Whoopi. Which is why I was so surprised to hear her moaning about looking fat in her black halter dress. She looked fabulous very sex and the city-ish, like she should have had paparazzi flashing bulbs at her. She stood in front the mirror pinching skin around her underarms. The Chick literally had to clutch at her bronze flesh to hold the taut skin between her fingers, look fat my ass. My ass indeed! Which is what I said to which she responded with rolled eyes and a " Oh someone like you wouldn't understand." WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!! Granted I'm a size 22 but that doesn't mean I'm insincere with my comments about how she looks. She looked great and grasping desperately at flesh and moaning about being fat when you are stick thin and a size 4 means she doesn't understand! I mean it was under arm skin for goodness sake. Maybe if she had grabbed a nonexistent roll around her belly I might have been less sarcastic but underarm skin, freaking hell. Well my sarcasm didn't go over well, she claims I blow everything out of proportion, just like when R asked me to lose weight in order to be in her wedding party. I couldn't believe she claims I don't have a right to be annoyed about that or her constantly pushing diet coke on me. It became a screaming match that ended with her storming out, maybe to home or the bar or to wherever, I don't know, we haven't talked since. Perhaps I am too sensitive about my weight but all I know is my party bliss weekend turned into me watching soapnet and eating Ben and Jerry's peanut butter cup ice cream. Happy 4.0!

Peevish

Her worry
attacks like sand flies
Buzzing
Swarming
Pricking
tiny sharp darts
Draw blood
That bubble to anger
A tantrum, like a
petulant 2 year old
“I’m Ok”
“I’m Ok”
And she turns
worry
a wet cloak
draped against her frame
To frail
To deal with a 30 yr old
Having a tantrum

Raw 4/17/07

Century 21 is a fat woman's purgatory. Every donut I ever ate rebukes me as a peruse the aisles of discounted designer clothes. Clothes so cute, so wonderfully made, so sexy, clothes that you don't just wear but experience. Like the green dress I saw, the perfect shade of green to make my complexion dazzle like 18 karat gold. Baby grass green, delicate, fresh, hopeful, yet tempting, with a sweet heart neckline, skimming bodice and light flutters through to the hem. It was the kind of dress I'd spend a month's salary on. Only it came in a size 0, 2, and 4. Nothing like that exists in the plus size section. Not to completely insult plus size sections and stores, I mean Lane Bryant and Ashley Stewart do have some cute clothes and have helped me maintain my fierceness but I never saw anything like what I see at Century 21, Kohl's, and H&M. My jaunts in those stores this past weekend just left me feeling old and ugly, not that the two are synonymous. Dammit I helped my 60 year old mother try on Rock & Republic jeans (she looked damn good too) while my section boasted elastic waist stone washed denim pants. Ughh well it was enough to make me join Weight Watcher's, buy a Colon Cleanser, and order the Hoopnatic Dvd. I'm going to poop, count points, and hula hoop my way to a size 00, OK 4, welllll really a 10, who am I fooling most likely 12-14, ughh 16!! In which case I still won't be able to shop at those stores, dieting makes me mean.

Night Shift 3/29/07

It doesn't pay to be anti social. Generally I enjoy doing the night shift at my job for OT because I get to be alone. I can float through the work place's echoing halls with the lights dimmed in sweats and sneakers. Slurping an iced coffee while getting caught up on paper work without being interrupted by zinging phones, faxes, deliveries, and supervisors is worth a missed night's sleep. I don't have to sit through my co workers droning on about their kids, spouses, or even worse, American idol. Though I genuinely like and get along with most of my office mates often their cute kid stories start to aggravate me after 5 minutes and unless the office gossip is new, tantalizing and slightly "maury-ish" I'd rather just get my work done than talk. Also, the night shift means I don't see my regular "commute acquaintances" and I'm spared the mindless chit chat of " how are you? I'm doing well, thank you. Oh it's so nice out. Have a good day," at the coffee shop, newstand, or in the elevator. The night shift equals anonymity for me, I can breeze in and out of my daily routine unnoticed and uninterrupted.

Until today.

On my way home from the night shift, I skipped to the subway station. Instead of rehashing the day's events with a coworker for 3/4rths of my ride home on the train, I was going to get 45 minutes of blissful silence to listen to Fleetwood Mac on my player. Yup, I could flip through the pages on AM NY while "Gypsy" whirred in the background. I settled into a train car that had 4 tired and anti social passengers like me. We stretched throughout the car, as far from each other as possible, cocooned by our ear buds and newspapers. It was right at the "velvet underground" line it happened, my quintessential NY moment. A pervert sat right next me.
Of course I was annoyed that in an almost empty train he chooses to sit close to me but other than eye rolling what can I do. My $2 a ride doesn't mean I dictate seating arrangements. But then he began to fidget, which of course got my attention and then I saw it. UGHHHHHH! my night shift euphoria permanently ruined by the sight of a pervert sitting next to me on the train rubbing KY jelly on his penis. I was so shocked I didn't react for maybe 2 minutes which seemed to egg the pervert on as he began to fairly jump out of his seat. At that point I just had to move. I wish now I had yelled or called him out instead of timidly running away. The pervert slinked off the train, his vile actions unnoticed by anyone but me. I feel violated in so many ways, the comfort of being on the train is gone. I want to purell everything, dammit genitalia was exposed! I'm wary of the people who sit next me, I'll never again lose my self completely in a book or magazine while commuting, and I'll never experience that feeling of being in my own zone while out in public. Maybe it was foolish to feel so protected in the first place considering the world today but it was a sweet feeling and I miss it.

Amusing muggle 2/1/07

Harry Potter is back!!! I'm so excited. I'm coming off of an overnight shift at work, look like a zombie but unable to sleep. Fire up my dsl and I see this " Final Harry Potter Book due out in July" how sick is that! I can't sleep now, I can barely sit still, JULY JULY JULY, 5 loooooong months away, I'm going to start a count down, I'm going to pull a Hiro and fast forward to the future, I just can't wait to read the final book of the Harry Potter series. I'll never forget buying the first book for my little cousin and flipping through it on the bus ride home. I was hooked. The second, 3rd, and 4rth were devoured afterwards. The third and fourth tying as my favorites of the series. The fifth was pre ordered months in advance, stolen before I could even glimpse the package then hastily bought at Barnes and Nobles. Then read at Riis beach on the hottest July day of 2003. Giving new meaning to blinding heat as the sun glared off the pages and scorched my pupils. Even the "A" train ride home with sand in my hair, ears, pants, and creases, falling onto the pages couldn't stop my lust for each printed word. The sixth book, my least favorite, read haphazardly during my 24 hour flight from JFK-London then Sri Lanka. The sharp edges of the hardcover digging into my arms ever time I curled up to let the stewardess pass by during the Sri Lankan airways flight. In despair in Sri Lanka when I read Dumbledore's death, bawling, snot, hiccups and everything in Nuyraila, high in the mountains , cold, and aching that Snape! would betray Dumbledore and kill him. Where will the 7th and final book find me? I can't wait!

All you Harry Potter fans come on lets chat. What do you think book 7, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will bring? Will Harry survive? Think Dumbledore is really dead? What will happen to Snape? ohhh the final fight between Harry and Lord Voldemort. Hermoine and Ron? What will happen with Harry and Ginny now that he is a wizard school drop out and all bad ass? Will Percy just chill? Twins still in the joke business? Now I gotta read the books over again to refresh my memory, the wait has been to long.
ps, just finished reading a great book, The Darkest Child by Delores Phillips. Intimate, heart breaking and beautiful. You'll love Tangy Mae and weep as she struggles to free herself from her beautiful and cruel mother.
Potter fans Share the good news!!!
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070201/ap_en_ot/people_rowling
This is interesting
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1837941,00.html

pluck me happy 1/22/07

You can tell alot about a woman from the state of her eyebrows. Her mental, physical, and spiritual personalities reside in over plucked thin arches, bushy squirrel tails, slanted twin peaks, or in my case unruly clustered coils. I used to be a dashing diva fanatic, eagerly hitting the salon to get my brows waxed into a slight arch with a long tail. After wards my raw skin would be soothed with an aloe rub then camouflaged in plums, pinks or pearl, while my lashes were carpeted with inky black Le grand curl mascara. I felt quite the diva, with my winking and blinking smoky eyes. And suddenly I looked in the mirror and saw my twin arches plopped. Scraggly bits of hair growing everywhere, an unkempt lawn turned to jungle. What happened!! It's been months since I've tortured my brows into refinement, looking at my uneven nails and thick cuticles, it's glaringly obvious, I've let myself go.

I don't know when it began but I recall weekends in bed, huddled under a comforter either reading or sleeping. Days blurring into months, where did the time go?

well, there was a slight breeze last night in my room. Everything is tightly locked against the frigid air but still there was a breeze, it smelled like the cold moist earthy scent of change. A slight scent, I wonder now if I imagined it. The way I sometimes smell an ex lover's mingled scent of newports, sweat, dentyne ice and nautica just almost, enough to make me search for him but never find him. Was it real or a wish escaped through a sigh teasing my senses before it evaporates. Well, I think I smelled change, enough to make me notice my caterpillar brows. Enough to cause a fluttering in my head, cobwebs stripped by leaping thoughts. Lips cracking in a smile, I feel creaky but I smelled change. gonna pluck my brows.

aint got no Mojo January 15, 2007

Its been one of those lives, you know the one where you color with in the lines so the picture will look nice and neat. You use coco for the skin, pink for the lips and black for the hair so everything looks as it should be. Hell, you even trace over the lines with the pitch black crayon so the boundaries are well defined, broad enough to hide slips of color creeping out and sharp enough to make the neatness glow. And for all that trouble and hard work all you get is a flattened out crayon and a bland ass picture nobody wants to buy. Just like life.
Is it possible to be defeated by doing everything right? Is it really naive to believe that hard work, proven skills and talent will get me to where I want to be or should I just make a sex tape and put it on the net.
Aint got no money
aint got no love
aint got no mojo
just a hard day's thrive
what is right? I've been railing against playing by these supposed rules and falling to the side when I just realized whose rules are these anyway! and what makes them the right ones! Why am I so blindly following what someone set up as the standard. Go to school, get great job, good portfolio, property, family. I really do wonder what life would be like if I would just for a blink really cut loose...what would happen? fire, brimstone, prison, scandal, ruin, devastation or Bliss.
To love, laugh, talk, dance, smile, yell, and jump hardfastfree, how do I do that?

Guilty pleasures January 1, 2007

2006 was a bust, it came in and rang out just like 2005 and the in between hmmm
The few highlights:

Out of no where it seems I turned 30 and it feels good.

Met my half brother Eric! Found out I'm an aunty, no more a sibling less creature, I got family now!

Found paradise in Bermuda and Grand Turk Island. Can see the white stillness of Grand turk, foamy waves, and oh yes, yes, yes!!! FRUITINIS!!!!!

Reconnected with my father only to soon disconnect but the brief period of father- daughter bonding makes the whole daddy thing feel like it can be good

Thoroughly enjoyed every MTV reality show, from Laguna to sweet sixteen, though my 30 year old ass is to old to be loving the angst of privileged white tweens...

Discovered Perez Hilton, unlimited access to britney, lindsay, and paris's coochies!

Met 2 guys I thought I could let into my life and eventually, well didn't happen. After 4 years single dom I realize I'm a bit crazy now but men haven't changed, only come in smoother packages. Yet through it all I was able to walk away after having been crushed only 2 times and lapsing 2 times, but I continued walking. Feels good to let go, not demonize the person, just to realize they weren't right for you and move on. Sounds very mature but they both were really assholes. So over assholes.

Finally put all the pieces in place to start school!

Started my book, didn't finish it, took a 4 month break but I started it!

Had the perfect day with my little cousin, getting manicures, shopping, seeing the Ballad of Ricky Bobby and snorting, spitting, and farting with laughter in the theater.

Drew on a thimble full of strength somewhere deep within this hungry thirsty flesh to shakily say no to lust and walk away proud despite my libido cursing me.

Brazilian twist? 12/19/06

I'm as disgusted and mortified as every other well brought up women by the indecent, raunchy, down right low down trashy exploits of today's celebrities, the likes of Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, and icky Paris Hilton. Yes, they are an abomination to the very essence of womanhood and I cringed when pictures of their vaginas were posted all over the Internet and every other source of media. Come on! who doesn't know how to get out of a vehicle like a lady, especially when you are going commando. Yet, even as I rolled my eyes and twisted my mouth in shock and disgust I couldn't help noticing how kinda cute the bald beavers looked. Cute in a wow I think I might try a Brazilian kinda way. More than slightly curious about the appeal of bald beavers. Could the baldness trigger the desire to flash? Does a bald beaver provide increase sensation that makes a woman just want to forgo panties and tingle all night? Do Bald women really have more fun? I've just got to know! Just might be adding Brazilian to my flavor....damn it looks like it hurts.