Camping in Oklahoma

Camp Site down by the Illinois River near Tahlequah, Oklahoma

Cat and I are going to do some camping down in southern Oklahoma in the Arbuckle Mountains. One of the many blessings of my marriage is that I have found a woman who enjoys tent camping as much as I do. In fact, our honeymoon was a 4 state camping trip.

Too many Oklahomans go to Colorado or some such place for the summer to do their camping. Colorado is a great state. I enjoyed living there, but I love camping in my native state. Besides, Coloradoans don't like us "Okies" all that much anyway, so I figure I might as well stay where people are glad you came. I'll try to bring back some nature writing.

Hope you are enjoying yourself this summer wherever you may be. Be sure to take some time to appreciate the beauty that is right in front of your eyes.

Best Streaming Music Site I've Found Yet!

From what I've gathered this site was started by people studying the origins of music and how musical styles evolve.

Once they began collecting a database, then their friends came to them saying they didn't know where to go to find new music in the style they liked.

Thus this site was born.

Once you register, they'll ask you to input your favorite musicians or songs. The system will then not only play the songs you've inputted, and the artists, it will extrapolate other artists and songs in the same genre. There's a simple right click on each album yea or nay. No commercials and it won't force you to listen to a song you don't like, it will simply mark it bad and move on.

All in all not a bad system, I wish conventional radio were like this.

Standing on Bottles

(When I was in graduate school, I worked as a "night auditor" at several Oklahoma City hotels and motels. One hotel I worked for had a night club in it. One night I saw one of the waitresses at the end of her shift. She was "dead on her feet." I knew something of her situation: single mom, struggling to make ends meet, a typical story. I led to write this poem in honor of all such people.)

Standing on Bottles

Her hair is never in place and
She pulls it back over her ear once more as
She lifts the tray again which
now weighs as much as a manhole cover and
the Bottles have bottoms made of springs.

She carries the tray to
another group of lost souls with
too much time and too little purpose.

She depends on them for
Her pay.
The Rent
The Car payment
The Groceries and
The Child care depend on
This group of Bottles.

Then,

She is bumped by a drunken VP in a
designer suit and
The Bottles sway
And shift
The Foundation on which
She stands.

(Remember to tip your waitstaff at least 20%, more for great service.)

I Lost the Google Fight

Found this through the pop culture blog on USA Today. Decided to see how searches for my blog did against searches for this blog.

She beat me by 13,600.

It's a fun site for doing head to heads...

Give it a whirl!

How I met the Wonderful Colette!!

Sorry about the rhyming. I'm a poet and don't even know it. (okay that was worse!)

I have known Colette since the very early days of my being online, so we're going back about 13 years now.

Back then the only online service I knew of was Cleveland Freenet. I had a 2400 baud modem at the time, the service was all DOS based, and it bumped you off automatically after every hour.

I was dy318, in the chat room better known first as Galbraith (meaning British Stranger) then later as Liam.

I still remember the first time I spoke to Colette (at the time going by the name Rhiannon). I asked her if the British Stranger may approach the Welsh Witch. We hit it off immediately. I think she was happy to talk to a guy who wasn't trying to get her phone number or try some lame-ass seduction.

The friendship progressed slowly at first, we only spoke when we saw each other online, so for those first couple months she was only a name on a screen. Then November 5th, 1993 happened. That was the day I lost my beloved mother to a heart attack.

I told her online that evening. Without batting an eye, she put up her phone number and said I should call if I needed anything. She may not have known it at the time, but that meant the world to me. That someone who only knew me through this one's and zero's medium would do something like that.

We met in person soon after that, and I found someone I didn't even know I'd lost. It's not often in this world that we meet people who feel like a missing piece of our lives.

A lot has happened since then, I lost my father soon after that. She's been divorced twice, I've had a series of problematic relationships (to say the least). We've been there for each other. In many ways she's been much more of a sister to me than my own sister has.

I hope she knows there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her, so when she asked me to help "guest host" this blog in her absence, of course I jumped at the chance.

It's been a couple months at least since I've seen her, and I sorely do miss her. I hope I'm on that list of friends she wants to spend some time with.

Thanks for this opportunity darling, I hope to do you proud!

Greetings from Oklahoma

I thought I'd make my first entry a bit of an introduction. First, let me say why this introduction needs to be made at all. I literally "chanced" upon Collette's blog while hitting the "NEXT BLOG" button at the top of the previous blog. I like her blog, the attitude she revealed, and so I reponded to an entry or two. She wrote back, and so a "relationship" was born. When I found out she needed some help with her blog, I volunteered my help.

Now about me. I live in Oklahoma. I'm married to an absolute gem of a woman named Cat. We are high school English teachers. I have a blog called "The Green Flame". I'm involved in teaching, union organizing (We belong to the American Federation of Teachers, AFL-CIO), Democratic politics, camping, and a little bit of writing.

Today, I will be operating an information booth for Oklahoma County Democratic Party at our annual "Gay Pride Festival". I am amazed and proud of the fact that in the heart of fundamentalist America, we have a thriving gay community. Our festival has grown bigger and diverse every year. In my next post, I'll bring a couple of pics from the festival.

I promise that I won't be political with every post. I do write about other topics. I hope that I will bring something significant to this blog.

Thanks, Collette for this opportunity.

Yours in Solidarity,
Lynn

Blog Vacation

OK kids it's early Sunday morning - I should be in bed but I am not - I was awake at like 7:30 AM, an unGodly hour on a Sunday. I am here now enjoying a gorgeous morning. The temp is nice & cool, the water off the lake is a faded denim blue, not a white cap in site...just constant movement and change. Kind of like me.

My cup of Kona blend coffee is at the ready - all I need is some music (hold on)...OK

Listening to neighbor radio on Last FM and it's Barry Adamson's Soul Murder from his album Edge of Atonement it's really nice....he used to play with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. He also did music for David Lynch too...nice.

Perfect morning. Except for the fact that last night at like 1 AM my son decided to drive out to Ravenna without waking me up to tell me so this morning I get up and there's a note plastered to his door that reads:

"Went to Dmitry's until Monday when I go to work. If a problem, call Dmitry"

Yeah OK son, you bet.

*sigh* well at least he left a note.

But other than that, it's a perfect morning...really it is I am not being facetious.

As you all know, I am going on break, vacation, holiday, whatever you want to call it.

I am going to read, relax, go out to play a little more. Shop (just a little), clean my house, visit friends, commune with nature, write more, visit my daughter, and maybe go out of town for a bit, work out, do Yoga, and get ready to teach again, set up my eye surgery, hopefully date SOMEONE, and try to get my perspective back. (I'd say get my 'groove' back but then look what happened to Stella - let's not go there, OK.)

I might be bloggin' just a little on my OTHER blogs (Every Woman Is A Goddess, and Blog Sisters, as well as pay some attention to my Yoga group on ZAADZ you guys really should check it out.

Write me, stay in touch! I want to hear from you guys! Enjoy Liam and Lynn and whomever else decides maybe to jump in for some vacation blogging. And if you too are going on vacation have fun.

XOXOXOXOX

Colette

NPR : Film Chronicles Challenges of Pediatric Cancer

NPR : Film Chronicles Challenges of Pediatric Cancer

Darkclarity

Mr. C's blog

Another pick for blog of the week. (can you tell it's feast or famine on here).

I Love you Mr. C!

^_^

NPR : Amy Sedaris: Writer, Actor, Cupcake Baker

NPR : Amy Sedaris: Writer, Actor, Cupcake Baker

Liams Odd Musings

Liams Odd Musings

And of course who can forget - my little 'brother' Liam.

Also will be helping out on here a bit.

The Green Flame

The Green Flame

Introducing Mr. Lynn Green. You'll hear more from him here soon. Meanwhile he is a pick for blog of the week.

Henry Rollins: A Love Letter To Ann Coulter

Henry Rollins: A Love Letter To Ann Coulter

Ditto!

Ann Coulter "Godless" Mrs. Betty Bowers Reviews Ann Coulter -- And Her Book, Too.

Ann Coulter "Godless" Mrs. Betty Bowers Reviews Ann Coulter -- And Her Book, Too.

Oh My Goddess! THIS IS GRRREAT!

Terrorism Quiz.

Terrorism Quiz.

Via Susan over at Easy Bake Coven

Thanks for posting my dear.

PS: I KNEW the answer to ALL the questions was the U.S.

The (wish) List (updated)

The reason for doing this now is two-fold

1) So I myself can keep track of what I've managed to replace and,
2) *gasp* So I can actually post a wish list - which in turn helps me figure out what I need to still get (no, this is not a hint to buy me things)

********************************

My now 'missing' books:

By Colette (this isn't as bad as I thought):
The Other Woman
The Tender Shoot

By Kate Chopin:
Portraits

By Josephine Hart:
Damage
Sin

By Carson McCullers:
The Ballad of the Sad Cafe

By Anais Nin (this is the most damage):
Diaries from 1931-1974
Delta of Venus
The Little Birds
House of Incest
Spy in the House of Love
Fire
Henry & June
Under a Glass Bell
The Novel of the Future
Winter of Artiface
Seduction of the Minotaur
The Four Chambered Heart
Ladders to Fire
Children of the Albatross
A Literate Passion (letters)


By Sylvia Plath:

Johnny Panic
The It Doesn't Matter Suit

By George Sand:
Marianne
The Intimate Journal

By Anne Sexton (again great loss here - almost everything I had - made worse by the fact she is one of my favourite poets):
A Biography
Self Portrait in Letters
To Bedlam and Partway Back
The Awful Rowing Towards God
Transformations

By Amy Tan (lucked out here she only got one but it was one of her best):
Joy Luck Club

Finally a great collection:
The Lifted Veil


As I rebuild the 'library' I am going to try to get as much as possible in hard bound *shrugs* - hopefully I can replace all of it....

Child of the night...

Roxanne

Roxanne
You dont have to put on the red light
Those days are over
You dont have to sell your body to the night

Roxanne
You dont have to wear that dress tonight
Walk the streets for money
You dont care if its wrong or if its right

Roxanne
You dont have to put on the red light

I loved you since I knew you
I wouldnt talk down to you
I have to tell you just how I feel
I wont share you with another boy
I know my mind is made up
So put away your make up
Told you once
I wont tell you again
Its a bad way

Roxanne
You dont have to put on the red light

Roxanne
You dont have to put on the red light

- - The Police

**************

Tonight, I was driving home from hitting some stores (and a book store - duh!) and I was going through a bit of a bad area of town.

I looked out of my car window to see a prostitute, walking the street. It was *obvious* she was a prostitute. The problem was she was extremely young, and extremely pretty - why do I think it's a problem? Well first of all I guess because I felt she was way too pretty to be selling herself. Secondly, she seemed so inexperienced, that she could barely walk in the 5-inch-high-heels she was wearing.

It was sad. She looked like a 'Barbie-doll-of-the-night' (Geez can you imagine: 'It's hooker Barbie, complete with her pimp, Krazy Ken')

*sigh*

Poor kid. I wish I had the money to pay to keep her OFF the street. Like "Here's $50 (Note: I am sure this is not enough money for her) - "go home and buy a newspaper on Sunday and get a 'safer' job."

But that isn't going to happen, is it?

Cliffhanger

Cliffhanger

Another 'Carny' blog...

carnytown.com

carnytown.com

..yeah kids...no shit....

Ya know, perhaps I am just doing this cause it's summer and that's when these people truly live their work-a-day lives here in the US of A....it's like being a construction worker, only different.

Or perhaps I am doing it cause I am not a 'nice, normal' girl like some people think (OR maybe I don't want people to think I am nice OR normal)...

Or perhaps just for posterity.

Thanks to Kevin over at Diary of a Carny for the link - he's a great writer people go check him out.

Soundtrack to 'Carnivale Season'

I had meant to post these two songs along with the 2nd part of my 'story'.

Both of them were songs that actually spoke to that time; those places and moments...

The first one I had mentioned regarding the ways carnys often get treated in the towns when they are travelling. It's really not the safest life - or at least I didn't think it was. You felt very much out of place - yet not the way a 'tourist' feels out of place, more the way the enemy/leper feels out of place:

Turn the Page

On a long and lonesome highway
East of Omaha
You can listen to the engine
Moanin' out as one long song
You can think about the woman
Or the girl you knew the night before

But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're riding sixteen hours
And there's nothing much to do
And you don't feel much like riding
You just wish the trip was through

Say...

Here I am, on the road again
There I am, up on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Well, you walk into a restaurant
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode
Most times you can't hear 'em talk
Other times you can
Oh, the same old clichés
Is that a woman or a man
And you always seem outnumbered
You don't dare make a stand

Here I am, on the road again
There I am, up on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, turn the page

Out there in the spotlight
You're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy
You try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body
Like the music that you play

Later in the evening
As you lie awake in bed
With the echoes from the amplifiers
Ringing in your head
You smoke the day's last cigarette
Rememb'rin' what she said

Ah...

Here I am, on the road again
There I am, up on the stage
Here I go, playing star again
There I go, there I go

ARTIST: Bob Seger

This next one was actually a song some of the folks would sing tearing down or on their way out and onto the next 'gig'; now Tommie was tone deaf, so it wasn't very pretty listening to him sing this song, but yet it's the kind of song ANYONE can sing:

On the Road Again

On the road again
Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again
On the road again
Goin' places that I've never been
Seein' things that I may never see again,
And I can't wait to get on the road again.

On the road again
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world be turnin' our way
And our way
Is on the road again
Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again

On the road again
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world be turnin' our way
And our way
Is on the road again

Just can't wait to get on the road again
The life I love is makin' music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again
And I can't wait to get on the road again

Artist: Willie Nelson

<$Diary of a Carny$>

<$Diary of a Carny$>


Now HERE'S a *real* Carny.....

Blog of the week here on DOCG, considering the posts I've done here lately....

...and so

The only 'taker' so far to 'guest blog' has been Liam...

I love Liam - he is truly a brother to me. He is family. He always will be.

I am not expecting anyone to do what I do here. I am so totally flattered that C2 was flattered by me asking, that Liam said his writing was not as good as mine (or some such shit and it is shit my dear, you're a great writer - I love the way you write).

I am just looking for people to 'man the fort'...

And it's not that I don't want to write - it's just my mind's a jumble and I can't think straight and I fear it's going to be nothing more than posting links; flat, dull, subpar ugh!

My heart feels like it's breaking - the fragility of my spirit has grown to new proportions and I feel like if there is one more major issue(s) in my life, it's going to land me in a rubber room or medicated and I want neither. (Oh and by the way that crap about God not giving you a cross too big to bear is a bunch of well....crap!).

I hurt, I need support. I am sick and tired of hearing my ex (who is also the father of these kids), hold his hand up like saying 'talk to the hand' - I mean he helped raise them and so now I suppose we need to leave them to their own devices and to some extent that's OK...I get it...but I can't help but feel that especially now they need our support and help. Little kids, little problems, big kids, big problems....

Last night I was asked by a good friend Danny (well *I* consider him a good friend), why I didn't just 'stop posting for a while....

Perhaps my answer has more to do with my own ego/sense of self that's become tied in some way to this forum. I explained that to me in essence I'd be letting this thing die and I don't want to do that. Further the point of asking others to help is to 'shake things up a bit'; Lastly, and more importantly I'd feel like I was just phoning it in, just posting links and to me that not what this has become. Oh sure, it's fun to 'share' things with you guys - I love doing that, but I don't even know if that matters so much or why ANYONE reads this blog....maybe it's a way for me to 'file' interesting things away for my later perusal.

Yet, something in me does want to keep writing but I guess I am just not willing to compromise my own 'integrity' if that's what you could even call it - what I do here that is.

We shall see. I am going to mull it over more this weekend and see how I feel and if it's still the same, then Liam will do this and I will try to twist Mr. C's arm and get him to 'pitch in' too.

The New Yorker: The Talk of the Town

The New Yorker: The Talk of the Town

Great article!

Leonard Cohen - I'm your Man

Leonard Cohen - I'm your Man

Wow! Cool!

Earth hottest it's been in 2,000 years

Earth hottest it's been in 2,000 years

...and it's reports like this, that continue to fall on the deaf ears of our leaders that we all should be clamouring about.

Do we really need to keep 'playing war' with each other (especially over in Iraq)? Or, should we begin to recognize that we are our own worst enemies and it'as time to pull together for a cause that's way more important than killing people for oil and a differing ideology.

An Inconvenient Truth

An Inconvenient Truth

Ended up going last night with Mr. C, Danny and Stephanie to see this....

At times it was just a bit too cliche, trying a bit too hard, however, I left feeling that we all DO need to do things to save this planet. Of course I have always felt that way (and I am sure we all do deep down) - but then I'd still drive by myself to work, not doing all I really could. Like carpooling, using public transportation, cutting down on my OWN bad energy habits.

I encourage you all to go see this film - whether you are a republican, democrat, libertarian, or anarchist...

The truth will hit you, the pictures speak volumes, as does the hard data; and, if we don't change how we live on this planet, we may not have a planet to live on very soon....and I am not talking hundreds of thousands of years from now, I am talking within the next couple of generations.

My preaching isn't what's going to change your mind.

From my own personal experience, I remember growing up in the foothills of the Allegheny mountains and how beautiful it all was, and the idea of losing that, of the rivers drying up, of the forests dying scares the hell out of me - it should all of you too.

'Fodder' continued

Geez - this is almost getting as good as the 'actual' carnival story I am writing (Do you guys think this guy has been secretly hired to get me out of my funk about the blog? hmmm....)

At any rate, he wrote back:

Thank you for your response. Perhaps my message wasn't stated clearly, but I was not looking for a "source for ideas about a screenplay." I would never blatantly or conspicuously ask someone for story ideas. If you felt that was my objective then I apologize. As I stated in my message, I was merely seeking "daily routine" information and perhaps some "interesting stories" from your carny experience. My purpose in asking the latter was two-fold. Firstly, you offered to share "interesting stories" (which, apparently, was a "polite" gesture on your part) and secondly, I was hoping to gain insights into the carny lifestyle from an insider's perspective.

I would never steal, plagiarize, etc stories or experiences that belonged to someone else. Again, if I offended you with my inquiry, I apologize. This was not my intent.

And I wrote back (I mean not to be a bitch or anything cause we all know I am one):

Dear sir,

I never accused you of doing any such thing - I merely pointed out that if you DID use ANYTHING of mine I'd expect at the very least, credit for it...that's all

And I *was* kind of offended; you've never written to me before, I don't know WHO the heck you are so why would I oblige you - a stranger? A friend perhaps but you aren't a friend. My 'polite' offer was for my AUDIENCE - people who read me all the time - not some stranger needing help with his 'screenplay'.

To me with writing - you do your *own* homework - you don't start asking people to write on their blog so that YOU can have research fodder. It's a bit insulting - especially like after you said 2 whole years has passed - it's not like you are a constant visitor to my blog, right?

How about hanging out at a carnival - did you ever think of doing that? How about interviewing an ACTUAL carnie? I mean you can't call me a 'carnie' in reality when I was only there for ONE season, right? I can't give you details about a 'real' carnies' daily lives because my 'adventure' did not encompass all that much, except for the fact that I was a young girl in a new environment. Why borrow from me when you can get much better info from a real pro? That's what *I* would do if I was thinking of writing anything that I hadn't actually experienced, I'd interview people and I'd hang out with those people....but that's just me...

And I just can't see a screenplay about carnies being as popular as what HBO did (LOL besides other than the mystical component I don't think it was well received, otherwise why would they would have cancelled it?) - I mean I suppose some people might be interested, but most of the people I knew despised carnies....I suppose it's an attraction/oddity for the un-initiated - kind of like the freak shows on some of the circuits...

So really I DO wish you well with your 'screenplay' but my stuff is off limits unless you ask me permission to use it AND I grant it to you and I have not done so...nor do I intend to do so...

It's summer, go find yourself a carnival to canvas.

Regards,
C -

Someone wants to use *ME* as THEIR Fodder

(Edit: Oh and hey, for the record, if you DO write to me I MAY use it as fodder for my blog - but then you all know that right?)

Hey kids,

Check out the e-mail I got:


Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2006 19:09:23 -0700 (PDT)
From: "christopher i"
RE: Blog entry: Haunted by ghosts tonight...
To: colettes_grave@yahoo.com

Hello,

Well, this is certainly an odd email but I hope you will oblige me.
Nearly two years ago, in your post "Haunted by ghosts tonight...", you said:
I spent a summer as a 'Carny' - very interesting stories there - it's for another post or when someone asks me to write about it...
I'm two years late but if you find the time, I'd love to read about your experiences that summer.
I'm doing research on Carnies for a possible screenplay, so any info you can share would be appreciated. Specifically, I'd like to know what the typical day was like, ie. preparation, formalities, how pay was distributed, living conditions, sleeping quarters...Daily routine kind of stuff. Any "interesting stories" would be great, too.
I've gathered quite a bit already, but one can never do too much research.

Thanks for your time,
mc

This is what I wrote back:

Look,

Not to be rude or anything - but I am NOT your source for ideas about a screenplay on Carnies and if you ever DO use ANYTHING of mine I will expect a royalty check.

And just for the record - I only put that phrase out there to be polite, I don't usually oblige anyone but me when it comes to writing in MY blog.

My advice to you - is to either watch 'Carnivale' on HBO or go do a stint yourself - I find the ONLY way to usually write believably about things like this is to live them.

Best of luck
C -

***********************

First off - what a dolt! If he actually did READ my blog - he'd see I had just recently posted part II of 'My Carnivale Season: On the Road Again....'

So all of you need to be on the look-out for some 'hip, 'young', 'new' playwrite putting out ANYTHING about carnival life - cause I want *MY* piece of the pie.

Oh sure I could pretend to be flattered but as a writer you have to do your own work - you don't get hand outs. Sure we are all thieves, those of us who 'write' know that much. I don't count myself as a true 'writer', since other than this I am not published. However, I DO protect my own work and THIS (all of this that you read of MINE that I write in my little blog kingdom here) IS copyright protected - so as far a 'stealing' goes when it comes to someone making their fortune from MY writing - I am not down with that. Had he approached me a little differently, perhaps...but I don't appreciate being told to write about ANYTHING on this blog in order to help someone do research.

Geez....

NPR : Christopher Hitchens, Literary Agent Provocateur

NPR : Christopher Hitchens, Literary Agent Provocateur

I love him - but his take opn things can infuriate me as well...

Fiction: Women Are Ugly, by Eliot Fintushel

Fiction: Women Are Ugly, by Eliot Fintushel

I haven't posted one of these to read in a long time....

In honour of the lastest Superman movie (uhm er, not really)

^_^

Enjoy.

Dobbs: Congress stiffs working Americans

Dobbs: Congress stiffs working Americans

Now see Mr. Dobbs' commentary....

(Perhaps instead of wanting to have Steven Colbert's love child I should have one with Mr. Dobbs)

You know what I have to say about all of our 'so-called' elected officials?

Every single friggin' one of them needs to be sacked. Pure and simple - we wipe the slate clean and start all over again. And as preposterous and ridiculous as that may sound to a lot of you - the scary thing is that they have SO MUCH control, it would be impossible to do just that.

Now, if workers for MY company were acting like irresponsible asses I'd fire them - wouldn't you?????

Bid to increase minimum wage nixed

CNN.com - Bid to increase minimum wage nixed

First, see this article....

The Summer Solstice

The Summer Solstice


And a very happy summer to all of you.

FRONTLINE: the dark side | PBS

FRONTLINE: the dark side PBS

I usually don't watch Frontline, but I respect they way they tackle a subject - this episode was especially hard-hitting, as well as incredibly frightening in it's implications.

Open Letter to my Daughter

And no people she does not read this blog - she can't she's rather isolated and I haven't decided yet whether to mail this to her or give it to her in person because I am certain it would end our relationship, but, nonetheless, here it is:

Rissa,

Well I had a sleepless night last night, worried about you and your situation.

I am so hurt that I was not sure I could even write this to you...but I feel I have to.

I guess what has me so upset is your need to lie to me – to hide things from me, like smoking (yes Dad told me) and now, your being pregnant AGAIN. I am not very sure about the future of our relationship when you make the choice consciously to hold back. I have never wanted anything but the best for you – I have always loved you and I have to say that it seems that you constantly are putting more trust in others (like your cousins), than you are in your own mom. If you didn’t want to have a relationship my dear, we didn’t have to – it is entirely your choice, but I don’t appreciate constantly being the last one to find out because of some imagined worry on your part.

True, I am angry, no doubt about it – why wouldn’t I be – I was there and I heard what the doctors had to say with your last labour and delivery, they said you shouldn't get pregnant again, Rissa. What mother in her right mind wouldn’t react this way – for the record, it’s out of love, nothing more, nothing less. You are the one putting the burden on this relationship because you think I am going to be angry – but I am angry at your choices not at you (just like when you were a teen), I am angry with my son-in-law because I don’t think someone who loves you puts your life at risk like this (and I am not saying you are not equally responsible or in this case being irresponsible) - did you ever think of handing him a Playboy and pointing him in the direction of the couch??? I guess not, I guess that goes against all that 'stuff' in your Bible; I am angry with your in-laws especially Diane because you are MY daughter NOT hers and I don’t appreciate her rejoicing in what could be a life-threatening situation for both you AND this baby. Not to mention what this is going to take away from the other children. I am not talking about food, or clothing here, although quite frankly for all of Brian’s talk of hating the government’s intrusion into his life – he is sure willing to take hand-outs from that same government – I find that hypocritical, Marissa. No, Rissa, I am talking about what’s going to happen when you are so overwhelmed that the other children are neglected. Do you want to know why Seth is really acting out, Marissa? Think about it…soon they will all be feeling that way.

I find using the Bible to hide behind to put your life at risk and the children in financial difficulties is wrong, I find it to be bad judgment and I dare say Brian is not a man of his word – since I believe you told me HE SAID he was going to get fixed – but then I knew that was a lie – because I knew he wouldn’t. I find it all to be a lot of bullshit. And the people I see suffering aren’t Brian and his family – it’s you and the kids, Rissa.

I don’t believe in a God that preaches it’s OK to lie to your mom (or hide important things from her – because to me hiding things is the same as lying), or in a God that puts your life at risk – because that’s exactly what you have decided to do by not getting fixed and by not being more careful (both of you!). I don’t know anywhere in the Bible where it says you should have babies at the risk of your own health. If there is a passage, please show it to me – but you won’t find one.

I am sorry to be harsh and if you want to stop speaking to me that’s entirely up to you – your choice – you seem to be making them without any regard anyways. I am not saying you aren’t a grown up – you are. Very much so. I am not saying you aren’t entitled to make a decision. You are. Obviously you have. What I AM saying is not to expect me to jump on some ‘Christian’ band wagon and be happy or supportive ‘cause I simply can’t be. It’s called you make your bed, you lie in it. I am saddened that you seem to think this is what you should be doing in light of the concern over your having these children too closely together. I can’t imagine how in the world you are going to support all of these children on what Brian makes – but then I suppose if Diane and Scott are willing to bankroll more grandchildren all the better. Your dad and I feel quite differently. And you were right, dad’s pretty upset but I am sure he will get over it – I will too, but I am still going to think this wasn’t such a great idea. I am worried because I love all of you, yes even Brian. And, because it’s different now-a-days than it was when we were raising you guys – it’s much harder to make it on just one income. But then I never depended on my in-laws or my government to pay part of my mortgage or support me for having too many children.

And sure, I suppose I could talk about how I did not raise you to be a ‘welfare mom’, or talk about how the decisions you make affect ALL the other people on the planet, and how I don’t think God gave us these abilities to squander when there are already too many homeless, starving people/children here now, and how we were not given this planet to destroy with our wars, pollution-spewing filthy factories, or to over populate ‘just because’ but then I doubt you’d hear what I am saying.

I can’t help but feel angry and hurt. If you could somhow see your way clear, it’s merely out of my love and concern for you and the children. I love you, I always will – but it’s time for me to stop acting like I am thrilled about this. I will pray to God (the God that to me seems a bit more reasonable), to keep you safe and out of harms way. I will pray that this pregnancy ends well – whatever that happens to be; I will pray for the future of our relationship because I don’t see how you can have a mother/daughter relationship based on keeping secrets. I hope in the future you will at least feel ‘safe’ enough to talk to me – there is no wrath to fear from me, Marissa, you aren’t a child anymore. The only thing to fear here is your inability to make good decisions for your own health (mental and otherwise) and for that of your children.

I love you,
Mom

How to 'Get the Guy'

Um yeah...OK.

But I did think that what I DID catch of it was pretty interesting.

They actually had people do a truly 'blind date' they were actually BLINDFOLDED! I mean how cool would that be? Sure, it's kind of awkward but all the same it was different, sensual, intriguing. I wonder how many people (besides me that is) would be up for something like that.

The show does have some good pointers too - maybe I will pay attention - but it's certainly not on my to do list anymore...

(Does saying I want my life back make me sound selfish at all???????? Just wondering....)

OK guys so here's the deal...

I am at my wits end - there is just too much on my plate emotionally right now. I love this forum, I've come to feel this blog is my home on the internet - however as much as I need to be able to express myself and insomuch as I feel it rids me of poison and it acts in a cathartic/therapeutic manner - I am really struggling. I am seriously considering doing something like 'guest-blogging' until I can get my sea legs back under me...I've asked some 'friends' to help and if any of you out there (who consider me a friend) would like to pitch in that's fine. You can contact me - and if you are a friend you should know how to do that by now....

I am going to post an open letter to my daughter about her latest 'situation', which is the 'straw that broke the camel's back', so to speak and you can find out why I am feeling the way I am inside.

You know people say you only feel the way you allow yourself to feel - I would like to kick that/those person/persons in the arse. When it comes to your children there are so many junctures where you are left feeling helpless, frightened for them - not knowing what to do...I hate glibness, I hate cliches....

I feel lately, powerless, voiceless, like I am screaming and no one can hear me and I am really screaming in my real life and perhaps people are sick of hearing me bitch. And I suppose I can't blame them - but I see things that are harming the people I love and I don't know why the people that are suppose to be supportive don't see what I see...

Last night, I sat in a restaurant with the step-father of my daughter, both of us in shock with the news that she 'delivered' - and he ranted about our kids - how he was 'done with them' how he didn't care anymore - yep thanks ever so much for your support honey - glad we could have this talk...

And I looked over his shoulder at this woman, old, overweight, and alone; I watched as she put salt on each lemon wedge taken from a bowl of lemons in front of her, slowly she'd eat each lemon wedge almost as an afterthought; it began to dawn on me how futile and utterly stupid everything is; echoes of Mr. Hess saying '100 years, all new people' or the Reverend's blog 'Less people, less idiots' - simultaneously making me feel nauseous and sad.

I realise (and I have for a long time) that life is suffering - but does it all have to be so in your face? And my suffering and that of my children, whom I dearly love, is just a tiny tear in an ocean of tears and I know it's insignificant...but still - it doesn't help that when I share these 'troubles' with my old friend Linda she says things like: 'You are cursed C! We really need to find an old lady down in Little Italy to remove this curse' (please refer to blog posting on here about me being a crisis magnet). And as Isaac Bonewits once noted, curses only work if the cursee 'feels' they are cursed. I am not quite there...yet...but I sometimes feel like I am drowning in sorrows and issues - and I again do not mean to belabor this point.

*MY* life is great - it really is - I like my job for the most part, I get to teach Yoga and earn money doing so, I earn a decent living at my 'day' job', I have good friends, I laugh, I get to listen to cool music, read great books, drink a nice glass of wine, but if your children aren't doing well then YOU aren't doing well and I don't care how young or old they are...*I* am not doing well kids...not at all....

And so, other than perhaps the open letter to my daughter and one other post - I really need to put the brakes on. My sister in law tells me to blog anyway - that I've earned a good audience but I figure if *I* am friggin' sick and tired of me then so are all of you and who the hell wants to come visit a blog that's always tinged with sorrow. Grant it, it's the sorrow and pain that makes us appreciate the happiness and joy - but enough is enough and I need to step back and get some perspective.

Just a measure of how I've been feeling lately

(...and please no rude comments from you boys out there - this does not apply to you - it applies to all the *OTHER* boys)



...and, I actually have a t-shirt with this sentiment:

Lewis the cat gets home detention

Lewis the cat gets home detention

...an update....

Just remember...

...when you are unsure in life, just ask yourself:



What would Flying Spaghetti Monster do? (via Hans)

^_^

And your thought I could not find another cat video

WRONG!

More fun with kittens

For your kitten viewing pleasure....

Kitten Huffing - Uncyclopedia

Kitten Huffing - Uncyclopedia

Uhm...OK...I got nothing to say about this except:

Daiv is evil!

Saudi Eve

Saudi Eve

This blog is my pick for 'blog of the week' - I wish I knew the word for courage in Arabic.

Saudi women unveil opinions online

Saudi women unveil opinions online

Check out the blogs in the article - I've made one of the my blog pick for this week.

Mixed media

So the movies for this weekend were (well 2 of them were sort of stupid in my book with the exception of the foreign film):

I always hated this film - but I was sleepless Friday night so I watched it nonetheless....it does however bring up a very interesting conundrum...and in the end I suppose you could say true love won out (yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah):



Now THIS was a wonderful film - and I had been meaning to watch it before - very glad I got a chance to see it - it really could have gone a lot deeper into the 'issues' surrounding using these poor Columbian girls as 'mules' but I still feel it was worth watching:



Oh and I forgot to mention - I watched part of this too(is it me or was anyone else confused by this film? Although Natalie Portman was extremely hot):



And the books:

I have been reading this for a little while now - it's is wonderfully written by Maura Moynihan (daughter of the late Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan) - very well done - she truly captures India:



Finally, I was able to add this to my collection - because I did not see any of the Anais books on the list that I am trying to replace - this was still a good find though:

Milestone

My son received his driver's license this weekend....big deal to him.

Kind of scary to me considering.

Part of the problem has been with his dad who is extremely passiv/aggressive and very reluctant to take a stand beside me when it comes to my son abusing drugs. I think he is afraid of losing their friendship - the problem is that YOU CAN'T BE FRIENDS WITH YOUR KID! PERIOD! And you are a lesser parent if you decide that's what needs ot happen.

So what's his dad do - he goes out and buys him a car as a graduation present, seemingly 'rewarding' his shitty behaviour and even shittier grades (1.7 GPA - don't even get me started).

I love my son, but I think this is crap and I can't help but be really, really agnry about this.

Does my son need his license, you bet. Should he have been given a car - I don't think so - but on the other hand he does need to be able to get himself around when it comes to college etc. So I am going to have to deal with this and all the potential for problems it will present.

Am I proud of him for passing his test. You bet.

All I can say is that he had better apply the same passion to his attendance at college - either that or find someone else to pay for his tuition.

Truth, For a Change: Ann Coulter continuing her "Hatespeak 2006" tour

Truth, For a Change: Ann Coulter continuing her "Hatespeak 2006" tour


I especially love the suggested book titles...

Nice!

Saving Grace

Often times I talk about my experiences with Yoga - more often as a teacher than a student.

Wednesday afternoon, I realised I need to re-charge my batteries and return to the fold of my teacher's den. The 'issue' with going out there often is that in order to make it to the 6 PM class I have to leave before 5 PM so that means getting home as soon as possible after work, and getting changed to make it there with all the rush hour traffic. It becomes more than an hour drive. But I knew at least this night I had to try to make it to class. I don't want to say it was a matter of life and/or death but I felt as if I desperately needed to go...

I was trained/schooled and became a full blown student of Yoga through the Spiritual Life Society and Yoga Center in Hudson, Ohio. The teachers there are Larry Terkel and Matt Lerner. They are in a word wonderful. Each has his own special way of teaching a class. Combined, they have close to (or possibly more than) 50 years of experience with Yoga. I am very blessed and very lucky to have found them.

Wednesday nights are Larry's classes. This is an intermediate class. It will kick your butt. Seriously. I showed up at class and there were a couple of 'graduates' from the teacher training program there. We greeted each other and asked after each other - I kept my mouth shut about the turmoil in my life.

When Larry entered the room everyone prepared for his class - I could sense that a lot of the students had been coming for a while - there were only 2 newcomers in a class of some 20 people. Larry has a 'way' there is no other means to describe his teaching methods. You at once feel welcomed and safe. He commands a great deal of respect and it is very much warranted, the guy knows what he is doing.

When he noticed myself and the other Yoga teacher 'graduate' Charlie he told the class we were there - I felt a bit like a visiting dignitary. I was also wondering if I could get through the class. It had been a while since I was in the presence of my teacher and his classes have never been 'easy'. Not only did I feel I got through the class I flowed through it - like a river to it's source. It was beautiful. When it came time for the deep relaxation at the end of the class I found myself crying, cleansed a bit of the problems I was dealing with. Tears were streaming from the sides of my eyes. I wasn't actually sobbing, but I was definitely crying. They did not seem like tears of sorrow or sadness, more like tears of acceptance of the grace of 'knowing'... I don't know how else to explain...perhaps it was because most of the class centered around the mula bhanda (or root lock) located at the base of our bodies, between the anus and the peritoneum. This is where we all hold a lot of fear and perhaps it was the release of all of that pent up fear that was causing me to cry.

Usually after Larry's class there is a lecture. The lectures are always interesting and uplifting. Larry himself is now a very accomplished speaker and he even has his own website - he is a published author and you can find his information
HERE .

This night, however we were going to have a lecture from a Swamiji (a holy man/preacher/monk) and he is affiliated with a holy man that Larry and Matt know personally (whom I met years ago and indeed felt that I was in the presence of a very holy individual). This man was much younger - he entered the room in a rustle of orange/saffron coloured robes and smelled of rose incense - his countenance was one of joy and peace. He was really quite interesting, very funny, and trying (I felt) a bit too hard as well as being very redundant. But, nonetheless it was good to meet him and to see all these people listening intently to him as well. His message was simple and loving. That we ARE divine. That we are all part of a whole. That we should all meditate and be at peace. Lovely.

I secured a hug from Larry before I left and I plan to go back as soon as possible to enjoy his class again. I also realised I need to find a Yoga class for myself to help stay strong and balanced and I need to try to get back to meditation every day too for the same reasons. It's sort of like how a therapist needs to be seen by a therapist so they remain whole and centered and sane. I am very much in need of all of that in my life...I think we all are...

My Carnivale Season (cont'd)...

'On the road again...'

We drove into Pennsylvania , my home state. Listening to the tinny radio in the cab of the truck, and pulling up what stations we could between farm/agriculture/weather reports. At times all I could say was thank goodness for WMMS (the rock station out of Cleveland), cause we could pick it up when the weather was clear. Otherwise is was famine, no cassette deck.

Tommie explained that now was the time for us to eat 'well'; that soon we'd be either eating carnival fare or in whatever diners the town had to offer. He indicated that most times it would have to be the low-end diners or greasy spoons for reasons I did not comprehend - everything seemed like a veiled threat somehow. As the season progressed it would become clear: 'People hate us.' I felt Tommie was being paranoid, but he wasn't really the worrying type so his 'warnings' sort of frightened me a bit.

We got to our first 'gig' a town called Fullerton, right outside of Bethlehem, PA - Bethlehem would be our big stop until the next state. We were not going to hit Allentown (I was not sure why, except perhaps that Big Richard did not have the kind of 'pull' or connections needed to play the bigger towns).

The way carnivals work, (as I am sure most of you are aware), we'd arrive early in the week and set up and the carnival would start Thursday night and run until the end of the weekend. Then it would be time for us to tear down and move on to the next town.

Tommie was also holding back from telling me his other 'personal' concern - about how I'd be received. 'Little-miss-Mary-sunshine' meets the rough, sharp-edged-angry-fringe element of the carnie world. He was right to be so concerned. I was picking up on his 'vibe' but could not quite place it and he was in his 'brooding' mood and there was no breaking through to him at those times.

We pulled into the lot for the show and Tommie checked in at the owner's trailer. 'Big Richard' ran the show. He gave Tommie our 'assigned' spot on the midway. We'd be stationed across from the 'Pokereno' and next to a couple of smaller games and concessions. There was a cotton candy joint beside us.

The carnival also had various 'rides' and Tommie told me to steer clear of the ride 'jocks' he said they were the most trouble and frankly, dangerous. The show also boasted a 'freak-show' and a 'girlie' show but only in the Northern cities could we have the girlie show tent going. For some reason, the Bible belt would rather have a gambling tent than 1/2 naked women.

Set up for us was fairly easy; mainly loading the game with novelties. Tommie decided we could do that in the morning. For now, it was time to familiarize ourselves with the area and our fellow 'carnies'. Big Richard had placed us rather strategically, the two games (ours & the 'Pokereno') would be the big midway games (the other big difference between running these type of games in the 'North' vs the South was that we had to play with tokens - it was illegal to run the games with real money. The girlie show was the other big draw, but mainly at night and for adults.

The show was set to open up the next day at 4PM - we had some time, so we wandered the midway, some people had already been there for a day or two, a lot of the carnies who made this their sole existence and lived in big trailers. Some of the bigger rides were set up already as well. Jocks for those rides were busy testing, oiling making sure everything was running 'safe' Tommie told me he once saw a horrible accident on the midway when one of the rides collapsed and so running a 'clean' ride set up was imperative. Other carnies were gathered at some of the bigger trailers (huge RV affairs that had bedrooms, kitchens, showers). Tommie took my hand and headed to one of the biggest trailers. He knew these people; he had worked with them before. As he introduced me, I could see the quizzical looks on some of their faces. Tommie was either ignoring the looks, or not wanting to make a big deal of it. He announced to his 'friends' that we were going to make a run into town and did anyone need anything. We were invited back later for some beer and some smoke. We were also admonished to watch out for the 'townies'. We unhitched the game trailer we had been towing from our truck/camper and drove into 'town'.

Tommie wanted to get the 'lay of the land; we located the laundry, the local diner, and store. We bought cigarettes, Dr. Pepper (Tommie's soda of choice), some snacks, and the cheapest beer we could find, then headed back.

That night, the lights of the midway brought the darkness to life, the rides were going, all their lights a-twinkling and all the while this werid, funky/loopy music was going in the background; the typical carnival scene, playing to an empty house.

Tommie went inside our camper and in the cramped space rolled a couple of joints and we headed over the the bigger established trailer where we had been earlier that day. This was owned by Bill and Kathy. Tommie had known them from several seasons and was pretty comfortable with them. Bill was warm and funny, a philosopher of midway/carnie life and a big tattooed gentle-giant. Kathy was a pint-sized dynamo, Bill's polar opposite. She was constantly moving, a ball of nervous energy, a chain-smoker and rail thin, Her smile though (when she was genuinely happy) could rival all the lights of the midway and her laugh was hearty. There was a definite edge to her, her voice raspy from all the years of tobacco/marijuana use and drinking; her skin dark and leathery from days on end in the weather and the sun. She was wiry and strong and at times could be as mean spirited as a mule. (I was rather surprised to find out she was only 5 years older then me - she looked to be in her mid to late 30s). She and Bill owned several concessions and Kathy ran the balloon game.

We began partying that night and, as some of the others joined us, I learned how to play 'Spades' - I was told it was a game commonly played in prison - as many of the people working for Richard were former cons. We stayed up until 1 AM and headed to our little camper to sleep. I fell asleep to the sounds of crickets chirping and the strange lullabye of the midway.

The next morning I woke up as soon as it was light out. I knew that our camper would get hot as soon as the sun got higher and, being unlike the more established carnies, we did not have one of the more luxurious trailers with accoutrements like air-conditioning. We did not have a toilet or running water. Big Richard provided port-o-potties just for the carnies. I had to use the water hook up attached to the food concession near us to wash my face and brush my teeth. Little did I know this was to be a regular routine on the road and we'd only get hot showers in between stops. Soon, I was to become tired of this - mainly cause deep down I was a girl and wanted a hot bath.

I did not notice the guy staring at me intently as I put my head under the faucet. I at least had a towel to wrap up my almost waist-length hair. As I turned, I heard a low whistle. I looked startled to be sure, the way deer do when caught in the headlights of a car they are about to demolish. I was looking into the most ice-blue eyes I have ever seen. He was standing by what I assumed was his 'ride'. Like me, this guy was one of the only people awake.

"Hello" he said, smiling.

I was really taken aback, this guy was gorgeous, and there was definitely a twinkle of mischief in his merry eyes. I forgot all about Tommie's warnings.

"Hi" I said back.

"I'm Jim" he says. "Who are you with?"

"I'm with Tommie" I say...beginning to squirm under his intense gaze; I swear he's undressing me at this point with those baby-blues.

"Want some coffee, Tommie's girl?" he asks laughing

"No thanks" I have to help get the game set up.

I turn on my heel and feel his stare burning into my back.

I wake Tommie up - he's groggy and grumpy - but snaps awake when he sees how jumpy I am.

"What's wrong, is something wrong with the game?"

"No" I stammer.

"I am just kind of nervous, first day on the job and all."

I give him what I hope is a sincere smile. He pulls me close and we snuggle for a bit. After a while we get up and go out to start loading up the game. There is no sign of Jim. Around 10:30 AM I can hear Big Richard's voice that sounds like someone set caramel on fire; in a Southern drawl, he's yelling over the loud speakers:

"Get up you lazy-assed drug babies and convicts"

I have visions of the scene from Cool Hand Luke the snarling 'Boss-man': "Looks like what we have here is a failure to communicate!"

After the game is set up, we head into town for breakfast/brunch. It's late enough that none of the locals are really at the diner. Still the looks from the management says it all. It's suspicion mixed with something I could not put my finger on (and later I become all too familiar with it - it's hatred).

We head back and see if we can help Bill and Kathy to set up anything of theirs. Finally 3 PM rolls around and the whole midway seems to take a collective breath. Soon school kids are walking around and then running around and by evening the place is jumping with kids and parents and noise and music blaring, and smells of carnival food, cotton-candy, funnel cakes, sausages and peppers, and sin. All mingling together to become an entity unto itself.

Since it's a weeknight, we shut down rather early (dark or so) around 9 PM. The girlie show does not open on this night. It will open on Friday when we stay open until 11 PM (and in some cases later, depending on what sort of deal Big Richard has 'fixed' with the local authorities).

Again we stay up and party with the others and this time Jim joins us...but he's floating just outside of the group that's already gathered to play cards; that smile playing at his lips and that devilish twinkle in his eyes. I feel a chill and move a bit closer to Tommie.

The next day being Friday, we all seem to be a bit more tired but eager. You can smell money and the fools willing to part with it. Tommie would often quote P.T. Barnum. Mainly: "There's a sucker born every minute. And two to take 'em" I think he added the second part. But he was right. People were almost frantic to do this stuff. I could not figure out if it was because their lives were so void of anything 'fun' or that they were actually that desperate.

That evening was the first time I ever saw Tommie get mad at a 'mark'. A guy who looked to be the former star high school football player for the town was playing our game. Every time he did not get either the tokens or a prize to fall into his slot he'd get very angry. At first, this just manifested in him swearing and sort of stomping his foot. But then he took to rattling his side of the trailer a bit. Tommie looked over and told me with a motion to move away from that side of the game. He walked over and told the guy to 'be nice to the game'. The guy took another 'shot' and got so mad, he punched the plexiglass window in front of him. Tommie calmly picked up his Louisville slugger (which a lot of truckers carry with them to test tires and for 'other' reasons).

He looked right at the guy, holidng the slugger at an angle clearly visible, and said: "I am going to tell you once, step away from the game. Go find something else to play, or you can just leave."

The guy looked up at Tommie, sized him up, (he could have mopped the midway with him), but seeing Tommie had a 'weapon' and meant business, he thought twice. Grumbling, he walked away. What he didn't know was that while Tommie was leaning over looking down and holding the bat with one hand, he was reaching for his boot knife with the other.

There is an unspoken camaraderie in these situations with other carnies as well. I know that before Tommie even asked me to move he had somehow gotten some of the other carnies alerted to this situation because a couple of them left their games and came over by ours. I guess in case there was any trouble. I was to find out soon just how much trouble we could run into soon.

I decided around supper time to leave the game for a bit. It was slow and Tommie could handle things. I went to get something to eat. Now I am going to tell you right now, carnival food IS NOT typically safe to eat. You really have to watch it. Things like popcorn are relatively safe, but stay away from sausages, and other types of foods (at least this was what I was told). We had gotten some food stuffs so I headed to the camper to munch on some fruit.

I came out to find Jim, taking a break, smoking a cigarette. He smiled at me again.

"I have to ask, just what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he was laughing, but I was not sure if he was being sarcastic or just found himself that funny.

"What's it to you?" I said; I had decided he was definitely bad news.

"Well, it's just that I don't know why you'd leave civilian life for this. I am also wondering if you are happy with him."

"HIS name is Tommie, and I am just fine, thanks for asking". I was not mean but I was angry inside I just didn't want him to know this.

"Well if you ever want to talk" he said, "You know how to find me".

"Don't hold your breath, Jim" I walked away and headed back to the game.

Later that night I saw him putting the moves on a stunning young lady. She was completely out of her element on the dusty midway and looked like she'd be more at home on a modeling runway. I remember thinking that they'd have made pretty babies together.

This was the first night that the girlie show was open. There wasn't an empty seat in the house. Men were lined up halfway down that side of the midway just to see the show. It was more actual burlesque than a strip show. The girls were OK looking, nothing spectacular, but they did their best to dress the part and be as enticing as possible. An older woman named Ronnie ran the show. She had a big hulking man who was the bouncer watching over everything. I never did find out his name. He didn't talk much. But he was one of those guys that you knew could crush a skull or break a neck, arm, leg with his bare hands. Tattooed over every inch of visible skin (except for his bare head), he seemed pretty menacing. For the most part I could either take or leave the girls. Some of them were nice, caught in a bad situation - I felt for the younger ones who appeared trapped. There were some though that I would not trust as far as I could throw them. Tommie didn't say a word about having the girlie show 'on board' what was there to say. It was with women's intuition that I could sense that some of them were forced into situations (like putting on more than a show and putting out for more money) that made me quietly scared inside.

For the most part that night we did well; as did the other games. The 'after party' was a bit more exuberant and a lot of people got drunk. I could even muster up a smile for Jim but I thought it odd he had that same young woman beside him. Usually the 'townies' left after the last ride/concession shut down. Unless of course they were invited to a private poker game, or to enjoy one of the ladies. We learned her name was Paris and she fit her name.

Tommie and I went to our camper a bit earlier this night. Both of us were tired. After a failed attempt at making love we passed out. The next day would be our last in this town and Tommie promises a hotel room for Sunday night after 'tear down'.

Saturday dawned bright and early, brilliant, promising to be a great day. By now I was an old hand and even though I knew not to get too close to some of the people I had made some friends even with some of the ride jocks. One in particular, Kenny, reminded me of a younger brother so I talked a bit with him and joked - it was pretty easy to make him blush. He was sweet and did not seem as hard-core or tainted/jaded quite yet. I would try to be a little kinder to him, offering him food, beer, a joint every now and then. His clothes were in such bad shape that I felt guilty for being better dressed. (One of Tommie's favourite pastimes was to 'dress me up' and he had exquisite tastes and an artist's eye). I made a mental note to offer to sew the tear in Kenny's jeans on Sunday.

We went out to get breakfast early before the others woke up - it felt good to get out of 'camp' for a while and just have some private time. Because we didn't live in one of the nicer trailers, Tommie and I could not share many real intimate moments. Not that our relationship suffered from it - Tommie was a hard nut to crack at times and I was used to his brooding and his distance. So I never thought to nag or insist it's just how he was.

This time we did encounter locals at the restaurant. One of them was the young man Tommie had chastised for hitting the game. He was with some of his cronies. I noticed him whisper something to them and they all started laughing. Tommie narrowed his eyes a bit and told me to eat quickly, I obeyed. You could sense the hostility, you could cut it with a knife - if we said the wrong thing, gave the wrong 'look'...

We finished and paid. Luckily they did not follow us out and I don't know what we would have done had they done so; Tommie had the 'slugger' and we both had knives but it was not going to end well and we both knew this - it was unspoken between us, but I was finally getting a much bigger glimpse into his world and the darkness that was a regular companion in his life. To this day, it's why I can identify with the words of the Bob Seeger tune: Turn the Page: it's the way you get treated when people know you're an outsider, you don't belong, 'not of us!', that kind of shit...

We went back - feeling a bit unsettled, but I shrug it off - just one more day here. That's when it struck me, or at least the beginning of discontent start to surface. I realise I can't live like this for the rest of my life...

When we got back to the site, Jim calls me over. He and Kenny are standing around by Jim's ride and they motion for me to come over. Hesitant, I do. Kenny smiles and Jim says:

"We need your help. We need you to get on the ride, we have to test it".

Everything in me screams no! But I decide it can't do me any harm. I obligingly get on the ride. It's a Tilt-a-Whirl. I am spun around slowly and soon it picks up pace and before too long it's spinning so fast I can hardly catch my breath. They guys haven't sped the ride up - this is how it actually runs. I try to breathe and keep myself from feeling sick but my head is soon spinning along with the ride. Finally is slows and then sputters to a stop and all I can think of is to get the hell off of the ride. I run down the metal set of stairs and run behind the ride and vomit up all my breakfast. I am furious, crying and shaking. When I get around to the front of the ride, they are standing there, including Tommie all of them laughing. I sputter something about it not being funny and storm off to the trailer. Kathy sees me and offers to let me clean up in her and Bill's RV. I am so grateful I almost break down in front of her. She smiles and tells me that I am a 'newbie' and that this is going to be part of my learning curve. Then she says something that makes all my feelings from earlier surface again:

"I really hope you love Tommie, cause this life isn't for everyone C."

No shit Sherlock.

After having some ginger ale and smoking some pot (and yes it does help with stomach upsets). I head back to our trailer where Tommie greets me and hugs me close and apologises to me. He does however tell me how silly I am for doing that and also teaches me about breathing - he tells me if I know how to breathe properly on a ride I will never get sick. He says I will feel the gravity and even the giddiness but the right breathing will get me through all of that...I have to laugh now when I think about how I preach about breathing. (Perhaps this experience is what drives my current work with movement and breath.)

I go back to help get ready for the last evening on this midway - I am obviously furious - and Tommie knows this - he tries making up to me by offering to take me shopping someplace nice in the next town. (One of the perks is that you do make pretty good money with certain jobs on the circuit and I knew Tommie had great taste in dressing me - of course I weighed like 98 pounds too).

I noticed Kenny was slinking around our game, sulking actually. I called out to him asking him if he needed something and he looked at me so petulantly, I thought he was going to start crying. He apologised to me.

"I didn't mean to make you sick! I didn't know you'd get sick like that. I am sorry!"

I almost wanted to hug him but decided to leave him on the hook for a bit longer. I nodded acknowledging his apology and he shuffled off and headed back down to help with the rides. He seemed so forlorn

Since this was the last night we really didn't need to 'push' the crowd. It wasn't busy but it was steady with some slow periods. Tommie and I actually had a nice time because we knew that all we had to do for 'break-down' was pack up the novelties, close up the game and move onto the next town and this also meant a hotel with a hot shower and a nice bed. So we relaxed a bit.

I happened to glance over by Jim's ride at one point and saw Paris hanging around and talking with him. Again, I felt this rather odd. The girl was simply stunning and I could not figure out what she saw in him. Not that he wasn't cute; he had this Robert Redford/Paul Newman thing going on and he was at least 8 to 10 years older than her (which can be very appealing to a young woman). At the end of the night she was with him again - this time decidedly 'his girl'. A lot of us exchanged looks but no one said a word - unless you put another carnie at risk, what you do is your own damn business.

Little did we know all the trouble Paris was going to cause...

OK

So I am going to post part II of 'My Carnivale Season', as promised...

Please ignore any typos and keep in mind that with my mind set of late, the last couple of paragraphs may not be everything they could have been.

Once I finish up part II in my head (or at least getmost of it committed to paper, I will post it along the side part as a separate link unto itself...

For those who care, I am still really, really out of sorts. I have a ton of shit to write about, but no will to do so at this point...

Namaste,

C -

Stephen Colbert's commencement address at Knox College

2006 Commencement Address

(sent via C2 - hysterical)...yeah I meant to post this BEFORE all this stuff happened but it's still worth reading, albeit a bit long....


*********

Sadly (and I know it' s not about me, I keep telling myself this is NOT about me, me, me, me - blah-fucking-blah ad infinitum) - sadly, I just wanted to see him walk across that stage...I can't help it - somehow this is breaking my heart and I feel so lost and so bad for him and so at wits end - I can't even begin to verbalize it anymore...

OK so now I am crying - I have to go; and I am too tired (after a counseling session - that seemed like a tiny light at the end of a long tunnel but only IF (and it's a big if indeed) he'll cooperate and only IF (even bigger if) his dad will participate and at the rate things are going it's all just very doubtful and unlikely at this point) - too tired to finish up the carnival adventure/story...and frankly I don't even care all that much anymore...

Adieu mes amis

I have decided it's time to stop this for a while people....

I will finish up and post part II of 'My Carnivale Season' and then stop....

My son was taken to the ER by his dad on Saturday - he was unable to participate in his own graduation ceremony - he's still not doing all that well at home - we thought he had some kind of bug bite near his eye but it turned out he has contact dermatitis (an aside: why the fuck is it that every single doctor calls this shit 'contact dermatitis' is that ALL they teach doctors about dermatology in medical school?) - he also has conjunctivitis IN HIS EYE - we don't know where any of this came from and he claims he does not know what he came in 'contact with' so by Sunday his eye was swollen shut; he had blisters all over his face (and 'body parts you don't want to know about Mom!') and he refused to go to his ceremony (I don't blame him) - it caused huge emotional upheaval and he told me he wanted to 'blow his brains out'....I spent most of yesterday crying...and he spent it miserable...

So I am taking hiatus from this and I don't even know IF or when I'll be back to my writing...or ranting...or whatever the fuck this thing has become.

Take care everyone.

NPR : Summer's Most Magical Form of Transport: Books

NPR : Summer's Most Magical Form of Transport: Books

...just in case you were wondering what to read this summer....

The 'Soul-Mate' delusion

No Virginia, I don’t believe in Santa Claus…(actually I *DO* believe in the spirit of Father Christmas {only I call him Pere Noel})

I never thought of romance in terms of ‘soul-mates’. Oh sure, I’ve had guys that have touched my soul, but then I’ve had children, small animals, picture, words and a good wine do that too…

I think we get way too caught up in the willingness to surrender ourselves. I am not talking about un-selflessness, I talking about selling out, I am talking about trying so hard to find 'Mr./Mrs./ Right' that you compromise yourself to the point of not being able to recognise who you really are anymore.

I am the first to admit I am picky. REALLY picky now – I wasn’t always so picky – nope, I used to fall for just about anything. I have now convinced myself I am no longer able to fall in love any longer. I simply don’t trust anyone anymore – I feel too fragile, too damaged. And it’s not that I am not willing to take that leap of faith but only when it’s required and I have to tell you for the most part, at least through the channels I’ve gone through of late, it is utterly and most definitely not worth my while to jump…

And I think it’s ridiculous the way people portray themselves on-line. I mean it’s like they are selling a used car (and they are). They don’t have current pictures, or worse, they lie about themselves. Alarms go off when I find a guy in his 40s who has never been married or had kids (and I am sure there ARE some guys out there who don’t have any baggage – but frankly, I WANT someone who already knows what marriage is about and whose kids are at least in high-school not 3 through 13 yrs old – cause I don’t want to raise anyone’s kids at this point). I am sure I am simply pigeon-holing myself into a box and I am going to miss out on something really special (but I kind of doubt it).

And sociologically this is ALL very fascinating – not that I view it as some kind of experiment because I really would like to date someone – but you have to wonder what with the constant barrage of on-line dating sites, match-making services, etc. just what exactly IS going on out there and why oh why can’t we simply meet each other without all this subterfuge or (frankly) the cost. I don’t feel one should pay to meet ones supposed ‘soul-mate’ (*laughs*).

The other night I met the lady my landlord is currently seeing. He and I had a definite attraction between us, however every single friggin’ time I went over there, the guy was 3-sheets to the wind – EVERYTIME. I can’t, I won’t, and I absolutely refuse to date a drunk. So recently I noticed that there was another car parked in his drive night after night. My son indicated it was his ‘lady-friend’. Well I finally met her. She too was drunk. But we began talking and I found out they met through losing their respective spouses (my landlord lost his spouse to the ravages of COPD and also believe it or not polio; she lost her spouse to cancer) and, that she herself was dealing with the aftermath of cancer. She is trying to become a certified Reiki practitioner and she is big on Yoga. She is also a successful editor and free-lance writer. She’s smart, wickedly funny, cute and very damaged (she’s EXACTLY like me – cause I am all these things as well) – we clicked instantly. And I realised then and there, that it’s not about having a soul-mate at all. It’s about being with someone who has some similar life experiences, someone you can related to, laugh with, enjoy and mainly someone who can help to keep the dark night at bay when everything seems endless, fruitless, and hopeless, but then rise each morning together to greet a new chance for happiness, contentment and love.

Guthrie family extends folk legacy with tour

Guthrie family extends folk legacy with tour

OMG

I have to go to this!

The ‘he said, she said’ guide to dating rituals - Today Books: Relationships - MSNBC.com

The ‘he said, she said’ guide to dating rituals - Today Books: Relationships - MSNBC.com

Sent to me by C2 - it's really very funny

(Just keep telling yourself: There's no such thing as a soul-mate, there's no such thing as a soul-mate)

^_^

Mother to Son

(I don't know how many of you read the comments left on here - but Liam was kind enough to send this about my post regarding my son becoming a man - I love Liam with all my heart and I am glad he's a member of my family too)

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. I
t's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

-- Langston Hughes

Now listening to....

spheric lounge - electronic ambient music

Coulter calls 9/11 widows "witches" - Yahoo! News

Coulter calls 9/11 widows "witches" - Yahoo! News

I am just going to say what I think/feel at this juncture (kids, avert your eyes)

Ann Coulter is a f*cking c*nt.

On endings...and beginnings...

And so finally, the time has come,my son is finished with High School. He will walk across the stage this Sunday to accept his diploma.

He himself sees nothing spectacular about this 'It's no big deal Mom, who cares?' (I told my sister-in-law last night sometimes I think teens are given a diagram of their mother's heart and then a dagger and in an almost voodoo doll-esque sort of way they stab at the heart).

I am proud of him and thrilled (that he graduated considering what's been going on). I look at his prom picture and then I look at the picture on my desk of him at the age of 10 in his hockey goalie uniform and the sadness/wistfulness takes up some room in my heart, knowing that these days are passing out of my grasp and they will never come again; and I wonder how many of us as parents realise how precious these days are and how quickly they grow up, move away, begin families of their own and you are left gazing at pictures and trying to hold onto those memories.

This is a time in his life for new beginnings and what I hope and pray will be a bright future for him.

We all wish the best for our children, we all have fears sometimes that they might make a wrong turn on the path as they travel through life; or that life will be cruel to them. It's hard, because as a parent you just love them so much and it seems that, from the time they are born, they spend their entire lives trying to grow up and away from us (I still recall vividly the time my son asked me not to hug or kiss him in front of his friends and the pang it caused in my heart). And for me it is a double-edged sword because losing my mother at the age of 15 only drives home to me how much I’d love for her to see him walk across that stage as they call out his name to accept his diploma and then walk off and into his future.

I lose him to manhood and it'’s bitter-sweet and awe-inspiring to know I had a hand in helping to make him what he is - and, despite all of the problems, trials, and tribulations, he was worth every minute of all the heartache (although it never seems so at the time)...

So congratulations, son, you may not think this is a big deal but to me, it’s what life and having children is all about... the future/YOUR future. May it be everything you hope for and may you be happy and successful.

Rabid kitten halts some PetSmart adoptions

Rabid kitten halts some PetSmart adoptions

*gasp* Pretty scary stuff....

(LOL) but it would make a really cool *gag* gift.

(just kidding)

^_^

Breast cancer patients benefit from yoga

Breast cancer patients benefit from yoga

What with this news coming out - it looks like I am going to be teaching a lot more Yoga....it's a good thing.

Edit (update): Yes, after talking to the people at the Center I *AM* going to be teaching a lot more - and may actually get a chance to teach women with breast cancer (hooray!)

At last!

I found a wonderful salon right by where I live.

I have been wary of going to salons since my last experience with the one in my neighborhood. Where I kept giving chances to some young woman who I swear was blonde even though her nationality was Lebanese and she had dark hair - she was ditzy and every time I went to her she never listened.

The last time I had a decent cut (which was glorious) - I went with a friend all the way out to Chesterland - which is a drive even for me....

So...one of the girls here at work has a mom who owns a salon. I had heard good things from one of our other co-workers about the place, so last Saturday, after teaching my Yoga class, I decided to go try to get an appointment.

At first I was not really thrilled with the way I was treated by the girl at the reception desk - but I made an appointment anyway. When I asked who was good with cut and colour - she claimed 'We're all good' - I don't like answers like that...

When I cam into work yesterday I asked again the name of the girl to ask for. They told me her name was Amy - I called the salon and told them I wanted Amy instead - unbeknownst to me, they put the lady on the phone who was to see me that night:

Rather snotty she says: 'You will be fine with Holly - she is a colour expert too'

I said: 'Well that's fine but I've been going to salons for years now and we all know how it can be in a salon where you get put with one stylist and you try to go to a different one in the same salon - I don't want to experience problems if I decide to go with Amy at a later time'

'You won't' she assured me 'we trade off all the time'

Now for those of you out there that have to have this explained to you, it's pretty simple. Salons seem to be hornets nests of catty women (sorry but it's true) - it's the only experience I can think of where you go someplace, you are paying for very personal INDIVIDUALISED care and typically (unless you pay a fortune) - they refuse to listen to you...it's crazy. If I could cut my own hair I'd do it...

So I show up about 15 minutes early and I am greeted by the ENTIRE salon - as if I am a friend. Holly comes over, says hello and winks and tells me not to be nervous that she knows I asked for Amy. (This made me feel kind of uncomfortable). I sat down and grabbed a book and tried to think about what I wanted her to do...

She brought me over to her chair. She brought Amy over and introduced us - we then began a consult about my colour. It was wonderful. She was down-to-earth and wonderful. The entire experience was wonderful. It cost less than any other visit to a salon for 2 different services. They washed my hair before the colour, washed it and conditioned it afterwards, and I got a cut AND product for under $70 - that's a deal. And I left knowing I would go back to Holly and we would be able to 'tweak' things and she would not mind nor ignore what I wanted. I felt like I had gone to a pricey salon and didn't have to spend an arm and a leg. Also, I was extremely impressed with how they treated their other clientele. While I was in there, a man in a wheelchair came in and they not only accommodated him but they lavished him with care and concern. Also there was a woman in a walker and they treated her like a queen. You can't buy this kind of service - either a place has it or they don't...this place was a shining example of how a salon should be.

I am not into 'vanity' I try very hard to stay natural looking. I do a lot of my own stuff. For years and years, I've used hennas, or coloured my own hair, but sometimes, you need a haircut and sometimes you need some pampering and last night fit the bill.

Sam Kinison on The DaVinci Code

This was sent to me via Ken Y - it's hysterical:

*************


Jesus married to Mary Magdalene? No fucking way. I've read the Bible, folks, and I know there's no way Jesus was ever married. The guy never had a wife. Because no wife would buy The Resurrection story in a hundred fucking years. The disciples will, the believers will:but no wife would buy this fucking story. Good luck! Good luck with this story.



First of all, Jesus leaves on Friday afternoon with 12 other guys. He's gone for three days. No message. No way to get in touch with his wife. Then he comes home Monday afternoon looking like shit, like he hasn't slept. Looks like he's all partied out, man.

And Mrs. Jesus is just waiting, pacing around the home, going, "Okay, this is Day 3 of this shit:Well, look who's back! I'm glad you could find your way home, 'Mr. Savior'! Where's your 12 friends who won't get a job, huh?! Where're they at?! Yeah, 'disciples' my ass. They're LOSERS! Do you hear me? Every one of them are using you, Jesus, and you're not even smart enough to know it! Anyone who says to you 'I believe' we put them up and feed them! I'm sick of it! Where've you been?! Huh?"

And Jesus is rubbing his face, shaking his head, going, "I don't need this shit:not after what I went through this weekend:"

Then he goes, "No honey, I'll tell you where I've been. Come here. Come he-e-ere, honey. I'll tell you where I've been. First of all, not that it ruined your weekend any but I was DEAD!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU FUCKING BITCH?! I WAS DEEEAAADDD!!! WHILE YOU WERE SITTING AT HOME ON YOUR ASS, I'M IN A GRAVE OUTSIDE OF TOWN! I'M FIGHTING DEATH, HELL, DECOMPOSURE:I'M ABOUT TO TURN INTO A SPIRITUAL FORM AND GO INTO THE KINGDOM OF GOD, AND I GO, 'OH SHIT, WAIT A SECOND! I BETTER GO BACK HOME BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHERE I'VE BEEN!' SO NOW I'VE GOT TO FIGHT THE ANGEL OF DEATH, GET MY FUCKING SOUL BACK, CRAWL OUT OF THE GRAVE, AND COME HOME TO THIS SHIT: BECAUSE I MISSED YOU HONEY!!!"

No fucking way, man.

Natural History: The Land of Naked People: Encounters with Stone Age Islanders - Book Review

Natural History: The Land of Naked People: Encounters with Stone Age Islanders - Book Review

This author was also interviewed on NPRs Talk of the Nation. I plan on finding her book and reading it soon.

You can also check out a pretty interesting interview with Ms. Mukerjee HERE in regards to how conquering nations (like Great Britain), have ultimately helped cause the demise of 'Stone-Age' Islanders.

It brings up a good point about how we need to sometimes just leave things as they are untouched and 'naked'.

NPR : 'Cockeyed': An Unsentimental Take on Blindness

NPR : 'Cockeyed': An Unsentimental Take on Blindness

I had meant to blog about this sooner - this was a very interesting show...

Review: Why mess with 'The Omen?'

CNN.com - Review: Why mess with 'The Omen?' 06/06/06

Happy 6/6/6 everyone *smirk*

See...I think Rosemary's Baby was a much scarier movie - but thanks ever so much Mia for pointing out how much better *THIS* remake is than the original The Omen

Sheesh....

Cloud Zero

...and it all comes crashing down...

But not without a little 'push'...

Why would I allow someone to take me anywhere that high?
When I know that the only way back is down...

Like the day I poured my heart onto the sand only to lose it in the roar of the wind - although it felt good to let the words slip off of my tongue...

Does attraction only work like a magnet pull - is that WHY we call it attraction - because it has to be mutual in order to function properly? Must be, otherwise, as someone said to me 'everyone would have been married to Paul McCartney in the 60s cause he was so cute'...

Not me, I'd have picked George...

And why do they call it 'Cloud 9'?

I am tired of my own heartsong...time to change the tune.

I can't imagine

How it must feel to be gay in this country and know that people hate you, don't want you to be able to be together, form a family, adopt or create children. How terrifying that must be.

I want to apologise to all of you out there who are made to feel every day like second-class citizens. Please know from the bottom of my heart that I do not stand in alignment with those idiots clamouring that the only 'sanctified love' is between a man and a woman...

LOVE IS LOVE.