Windkisser II

February 17, 2006 at 2:23 pm (Uncategorized)

The first night you stayed, March wind was blowing warm through the windows. As night crept past our sleeping forms, the thunderstorm grew, and the sound of dripping rain and a train too close on the rails woke me. I turned toward you, softly, so as not to wake you, and the train seemed to go on forever. I rose and blew out the candles, practically gutted in their sockets.

I closed the window and dropped the shade to keep the approaching morning light from your eyes.

Later, you would tell me you liked my tattoo, although I couldn’t remember you getting that close to my hip. Then you tell me you watched as I moved around the room, before I secluded my naked form in darkness, before I blew the candles out, before I dropped the shade.

I wonder if you watched me as I slept.

Permalink Leave a Comment


February 17, 2006 at 10:40 am (Uncategorized)

A storm is blowing in on the wings of the wind. It’s been gusting and howling since last night, growing in intensity, decreasing in temperature.

Wind is cleansing. When your sorrows rise to the surface, they can be swept away. All the filthy things in life we absorb will spill from our pores. The wind will evaporate them. The heat of anger will be cooled. Our tears become the first raindrops preceding the downpour.

The wind will eventually bring Spring, new life, new opportunities.

Two years ago, before I even knew what a blog was, a particularly windy evening kicked up, buffeting Lex and I as we walked down the boulevard, hand-in-hand. Our relationship so fresh and new we hadn’t even properly kissed. Both of us had long hair then, he still does. We must have been a sight walking along in the wind, our hair tossing around, his strands tangling with mine.

He pressed me against the door of my car and that same feeling overtook me, the one of floating, hovering above the Earth, vacuum silence, intensified by an incredible kiss, the wind trying to interrupt by throwing locks of hair between our lips. Our hands fighting hair, smoothing it off each other’s faces, while still holding each other close and kissing. . . in the wind.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Remember The Seeker and Other Schtuff

February 16, 2006 at 9:24 am (Uncategorized)

If you don’t remember Seeker then this won’t mean much to you. For those of you that do, I finally caught the non-email-responding-non-blogging bastard online last night. He was actually looking for me too, since he hadn’t responded to my desperate plea for information of his whereabouts and how his life in Oz was going.

He’s good. Says that he and Nord are both stubborn but they work through it. They have moved from the Outback to the oldest inland settlement in Oz and are about an hour from the ocean. He’s still the same old Seeker – no punctuation, plenty of sharp ideas, and attitude.

Most of our conversation was taken up by one his sharp ideas that I’m not at liberty to discuss and I wish I had had more time to chat with him. He says to tell you all “hello from Oz” and maybe he’ll be back around some day.


Nate, who has been doing SO GOOD in school, was sent to the Principal’s office the other day because he had fashioned a “weapon.” He had found a paperclip in his student planner and had bent it. Basically, he was playing with it so he didn’t write down his assignments. By definition of the student handbook any instrument may be considered a “weapon” including pencils and pens if used with the INTENT TO HARM.

Nate intended to harm no one. He was merely playing around with a paperclip. He didn’t touch anyone with it. He didn’t poke it into the desk. He didn’t deface school property, unless you want to count bending the paperclip. I’m wondering whether this merited a trip to the Principal’s office instead of a friendly reminder from his teacher not to twist and distort the paperclip.

Jeff feels as though they’re blowing up every incident with Nate so as to label him a “dangerous student” so they can send him to “alternative school.” Jeff now thinks it’s a good idea if we send him to private school, which costs 2 ½ times more than my car payment. I can’t say I disagree with Jeff’s assessment of the situation nor can I say that I disagree with wanting to send Nate to private school. I’ve wanted to for a very long time.

There’s a lot that goes into that as well, with the public school, the private school, Nate and of course, me and Jeff. This is going to be interesting. I guess we’ll go this evening, they’re having an information session, and see what it’s all about. Nate is wobbly about switching. He wants to see the school and what it’s all about first. Jeff and I are back and forth about the affects on Nate etc. etc. ad nauseum of leaving him where he is and switching him.


Permalink Leave a Comment

A Post With No Strikethroughs – For Trashman

February 15, 2006 at 10:40 am (Uncategorized)

Hope you all had a wonderful day yesterday. I have a job interview today at noon, which was scheduled at 9 this morning. I told the attorney I was not dressed for an interview and she said she wasn’t either as she was down from Pittsburgh looking at files. It’s a Corporate gig with an Oil & Gas Company. The attorney sounds really nice. She said normally HR calls but since she’s in town she decided to do it herself. I like her already.

I did complete my Federal application but who knows if I can even get an interview. I suppose if I got this job I could always move forward with the Federal job, since I’m sure it would take three months to complete the background check and five or six interviews.

Sensei Smiley was not so smiley yesterday. Neither was Sensei Blondie nor any other Sensei in the building. A definite air of disgruntlement wafted about the dojo. Sensei Smiley walked past me four times with neither smile nor nod or glance in my direction or any direction for that matter. Although Sensei Blondie did glance my direction more than once. However, it appeared as though their Valentines had pissed in their cornflakes and then left them for another.

I cleaned out my car most of the way yesterday and found my make-up case, which is good, since it has a brush in it too. Yes, some mornings are so hectic, I forget to brush my hair. I rarely wear make-up, especially in summer, but I don’t guess I look half bad, maybe I’ll try it more often.

That’s about it. Have a good one.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Happy St. Valentine’s Day Massacre

February 14, 2006 at 11:17 am (Uncategorized)

As you all can tell, I’ve learned how to use the strikethrough function in HTML. It’s the best invention since sex sliced bread.

I hate abhor despise detest tolerate Valentine’s Day since Nate’s into it and I like the goodies he gets from school. Otherwise, it’s a fucking useless “holiday.”

I appreciate nice things. I appreciate people who do nice things but why oh why must it be limited to one day a year? I’m not the kind of girl woman who focuses on the material aspect of a relationship. If you want to give me a gift it should be in the form of sex beads, sex books, or sex. Hot, mushy sex. None of these are limited by Valentine’s Day.

And hey, if you don’t do any of the above, I’ll assume you’re treating me to sex like a decent human being and are sharing your life with me, its ups and more downs, and generally being my friend and lover. I’ll assume you kiss me and feel me up hug me on a regular basis, hang out on the couch and watch movies, laugh with me and at me, lend me your shoulder as I lend you mine, and remember our special times that have nothing to do with a holiday, but everyday things that mean much more.

The only other redeeming quality of V-Day is it reminds me that AZ and I met after the blessed holy day of I’m-giving-you-a-card/flowers/candy-so-you’ll-still-be-my-girlfriend/boyfriend. 14 years. Damn, that’s a long time to know that cranky bastard that sonofa… that porcodillo one of my best friends. Not quite half my life sure has hell feels like an eternity sometimes.

So, ya’ll enjoy your day and have a Happy St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Snow Slush and other Schtuff

February 13, 2006 at 11:20 am (Uncategorized)

The Nor’easter passed us by. It snowed for 24 hours straight and we got . . . 2 inches. I know it’s a pain in the ass to dig out from big snows but it would also just be nice to have one. I guess I’ll hold out for a big March blizzard.

In other news, I’ve got the hots for two of Nate’s karate instructors. It’s very distracting, to me anyway, and I find myself surreptitiously peering over the novel of week (this week it’s “Coma” by Robin Cook), to study their personalities, physiques, and smiles as they work with the children.

One has caught my attention more than the other. He’s funny and outgoing in class and the kids like him a lot. Plus, he has these deep eyes and radiant smile and chest hair.

Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, hey, ummm. . . momentary lapse of coherent thought.

Anyway, they have both noticed me as well. As I watch “Smiley” walk the length of the dojo in my peripheral vision, he makes a point to catch my eyes, smile, and nod, which I return, and which he doesn’t do with anyone else in the long line of parents shifting on the uncomfortable seats.



“Blondie,” the other one, is a bit more stern in class, but we’ve traded pieces of conversation and he has a bit of cockiness that, while not off-putting, could be. He seems to have a biting humor, which I can certainly appreciate, but. . . there’s that air of. . . something that makes me wary of him. Sure, he’s a black belt and he’s good looking, not afraid to make conversation, puts up with 30 Nates, but . . . can’t put my finger on it. Although he does have a nice voice.

Perhaps with Blondie, I get the feeling there is an invisible bar of worthiness which is consistently set higher and higher so that you never achieve true worthiness. I’m more attracted to Smiley because the feeling from him is openness and a bit of. . . that twinkle in his eye, the way his whole face is transformed by his genuine smile. . . what my German Papa would call, “schlingel,” a brat, a prankster. His personality just radiates.

One problem. . . how the hell do you corner someone in a room full of kids and parents even to introduce yourself??? What? Pop up from my place at the side, wedged between Chance’s father and Yuki, like a Jack-In-The-Box to block his path with my coat and Nate’s shoes, my purse, and a book in my hands? Or shall I continue to peer surreptitiously across the pages of my book, basking in his smile, his laugh, his humor, his voice. . . that damn chest hair peeking out of his gi. Oy.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Snow… Maybe

February 10, 2006 at 9:46 am (Uncategorized)

It’s been one of those weeks. I’ve been very busy at work since Sissy went on maternity leave, which is great, since it makes the day go faster. It’s supposed to snow bucket loads which means we’ll get a flake or two. I live in the “Chemical Valley,” squashed between Carbide, Bayer, and DuPont.

There’s a nuclear reactor chemical factory right across the river from me. Someone has said we would be close to the top of the list for terrorist attacks except our population is not high enough. Since the factory across the river manufactures the exact same thing they did in Bhopal, India (ya’ll remember Bhopal, right?) it seems like it could cause far reaching consequences regardless.

My only consolation is if the factories are bombed or otherwise terrorized, we’ll go quick. I live too close to even make a run for it. Then again, I live in a sort of bowl, just like New Orleans. The road is built up above the river on what could be seen as a levee, then it dips down and the back up to cross the railroad tracks. I live in between. If there’s any explosion and the train is on the tracks, it will blow the train over on the peeps across the tracks from me. Heh, who lives on the wrong side of the tracks now?

People wonder why I always flush my toilet. My parents are notorious for “saving it up” so as not to waste water by flushing every single time you take a piss. I flush every. single. time. Why? It may be the only clean water we have in case of a shelter in place. While the toilet bowl may not always be pristine, at least the tank water is manageable.

All in all though, I’m not prepared for an emergency of the magnitude which could occur in the event of a leak or explosion at a nearby factory.

Now why did I start writing this? Oh, snow. That’s why we don’t get any snow anymore! The chemicals in the air I think just heat it or dissolve it or something. I’m not sure. If it starts snowing pink or green then I guess I’ll have my answer. If the fish can glow, why not the snow?

Permalink Leave a Comment

This N That

February 8, 2006 at 9:56 pm (Uncategorized)

I have been working diligently on my federal job application. I’m still not finished. Oh me. Oh my.

I got a call today from an organization who pulled my resume from I’ll find out more tomorrow.

Got a letter from another federal job, letting me know they have my resume, and informing me the job closes on March 18, 2003, and interviews will start the last week of March (The job closes on Feb. 18, 2006, btw). I told my boss it was no wonder they were advertising for a legal secretary. We then went on to discuss some of the want ads that we’ve seen, mostly for secretaries and assistants, that are so badly misspelled that again, its no wonder they’re advertising. I then pointed out I wasn’t sure I wanted to work for someone who couldn’t even spell a want ad correctly.

Nate got his first yellow stripe on his white belt yesterday. He was thrilled!! He has two more yellow stripes to earn before he can test for his yellow-stripe belt. White – yellow stripe – yellow – green stripe – green – or blue stripe – blue, I don’t remember but they get the striped belt before they move up to the solid belt. Regardless, he was one happy camper!

Now the Muslims are protesting against the U.S. over this cartoon fiasco. Why? Because we’re the leaders of Europe and the leaders of the infidels all over the world. Yeah. Whatever. For once, we actually didn’t do anything wrong and we’re still getting blamed for it. Fuckers. I’m not sure if “pagan” and “infidel” are considered the same thing, but I’ll take it as a compliment. Fuckers. Got your turban wrapped too tight? Camel step on your head? Got sand in your ears? If you can’t figure out the difference between EU and US, something is wrong. Hand over bin Laden fuckers!!!

If I haven’t been around, my apologies, I’ve actually been… busy.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Anal-ity Pays Off

February 7, 2006 at 10:06 am (Uncategorized)

Okay, it hasn’t paid off yet, but it may.

I was the kind of student in school that you really hated. You know you did. I was the one who made the 100 + bonus and groused at a 97. My one weakness was math. My instructors made me take all those college prep math classes, like Trig and Geometry and Algebra, which, I sucked at. Which in turn, brought down my grade point average.

I graduated 4th from my class in high school, even without my Senior classes since I got basically a “pass” in English (based on a letter written by my German English teacher) and a “pass” in International Studies (small wonder) since those were the only two credits I lacked to graduate.

I’ve had to review my old high school report cards and college transcript since I’ve been applying for Federal jobs. I looked at my college transcript and wondered what I could have done if I had really applied myself. Yes, I graduated magna cum laude, but, as always, if there was another rung on the ladder, then I want to be on the top of it.

After working full to part-time, depending on my classes and carrying anywhere from 17-21 hours my last three semesters, I guess I couldn’t complain when I pulled through with the grades I did. After all that work though, I felt as though it didn’t really matter. No one around here really cared if you were magna or summa, just that you got a degree. It made me wonder why I busted my ass working and going to school and keeping my grades up (although they could have been better in some instances), if no one gave a shit.

Finally, someone who gives a shit how many times I made the honor roll in High School. Yet, I wonder if that’s only to inflate arrogance, I mean, ummm, self-esteem and confidence in your abilities, that they actually care that you’ve exhibited a long history of sticking your nose in a book.

In that regard, my anal-ity toward my grades is at least going to pay off a bit. It gets my foot in a door where other feet can’t go. But does it really mean anything?

Nah, I don’t think so.

Permalink Leave a Comment

Dear Neighbors

February 6, 2006 at 9:55 am (Uncategorized)

Stop asking me for money. I may have it, I may not, but the fact remains, you never pay me back. If I’m assured of receiving money in a short period of time, I have no problem spotting you a few bucks, but the few bucks never show up and right now you’re already indebted to me for $100. If you’re that poor, then you should know what a $100 means to me.

I didn’t loan it all at once, but it’s built up over time. And every time I loan you a little more, you promise the entire amount will be paid back “when you get paid,” or “when we get that loan.” Whatever. I’m not your bank.

I know how it feels to be down and out and not have a dime to your name. However, wife, tell your husband to get off his lazy ass and get a job, ANY JOB, to help with household expenses instead of calling me at 7:03 a-fucking-m, the absolute worst time of day to call and ask me for ANYTHING, to see if I can get him some fucking Copenhagen and, of course, he’ll pay me back tonight. Yes, they loaded my child support, hoorah! No, you’re not getting any of it.

See, I have this electric bill for $55, and this gas bill for $124, a phone bill for $105, and a car payment I should have made in December, insurance for that car, Nate’s karate, my Curves (not necessities, but we’re entitled), my $89 water bill, oh and I’m still paying the bank back for an overdraft I had, probably because I loaned you money.

I’m entitled to do what I want with my money and you’re not entitled to any of it, regardless of how you try to make me feel. I’ve loaned you money in the past, and as I recall, you never paid that back either, so technically, you owe me a lot more. I’ve given you food. I’ve let you use major appliances and my phone more times than I can count. You’ve “borrowed” toilet paper and trash bags, neither of which I want returned, but I’m done.

Get off your lazy fucking ass and get a job. And don’t feel bad, I ragged on the Muslims yesterday.

Permalink Leave a Comment

« Previous page · Next page »