myself and shawn, jen, and pilar - fun with tattoos.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Friday, June 10, 2005
where i live...
I’m not completely sure that I have mentioned my current living situation in any kind of remote detail. So, I guess I’ll tell you about my spectacularly wonderful existence.
I am, at this moment, ready to go to bed on my favorite futon. This futon is located in an enormous 2400 square ft house. There are 4 bedrooms, 3 full baths, and a very large loft. The loft is what everyone calls my room in the house. Honestly, I make my bed up every night (that I sleep here) and put it away every morning. A house guest, and that is really what I would call me should be a helpful presence not a hindrance. That is what I try to do.
I will never be able to express enough gratitude to my best friend and her family in this life time. This family saved my ass, they rescued me, and they became the family that I needed. I have always been around my brothers and sister, and both sets of parents, and all my grandparents, and aunts, and… lets just say that I have an enormous family. You could say that we are “tight”. They are all, with few exceptions, in NY. I am of course, here in California. I love it here. I want to and will stay here, whether or not I’m going through a tough spot.
The family consists of my best friend Stephanie, who is the closest person to me at this point in my life. She is my favorite, and we completely get each other. She understands me better than anyone else. I think that I need to write something just for her in the future.
Stephanie is also the mother of two lovely three yr old twin girls. They are identical, but they don’t seem it to me, they are both so very different. I love them. They can not do anything that isn’t cute. Even when they are screaming their heads off, all I can think is –how can you make balling beautiful- and then I ache a little because their crying, even when it’s because they aren’t getting their way. They are basically the reason why Stephanie and I got to be such great friends. I was their nanny for something like a few months. I think I loved them by the second week in their company. When I think about how much I love them, and then I think about having my own (someday), well, I am just amazed by the human heart. In all honesty, I think that I could love kids that aren’t mine as if they were. They are so easy to love. Both parents are almost crazy smart and their kids are the same way. I swear I could talk about them all day.
They have a really great daddy too. He is hilarious, super smart, and very thoughtful. He is so good to his family. They have a beautiful solid marriage. They constantly forgive each other, deal with stressful stuff in a constructive way, and are free of any kind of jealousy or mistrust. They are in love, for real, I would have to say. They have a beautiful solid marriage. It’s wonderful to know that those are out there and are possible.
Then there are Stephanie’s parents, who live in the super master deluxe suite infinity period. They have the mother of all bedrooms. They have the Mack daddy of all big ass bedrooms. I could probably live in their bathroom, it’s as Steph would say “ginormous”.
Her daddy is super de duper intelligent, and sometimes a little odd. He has all these awesome colognes, so their room always smells great. I know that he holds back from saying something to me, when I’ve been out all night, or weekend. I’m proud to be considered an adopted daughter sort of. Stephanie’s mommy is in love with soaps. No, I’m serious. She is addicted to soaps on TV, like I’m addicted to the internet multiplied by 2. She is understanding and sweet. She is also addicted to ice-cream. This makes me fat, because if I see you eating some of it, I want some too. They are both a little neurotic. It’s not a bad thing. They like the house clean, and when there are kids and 8 people (plus) living in one house, well it gets dirty. I try to clean as much as I can. I like a clean house. If I’m going to clean, I don’t half ass it, it’s fucking sterilized. I think that they like this about me. They are really great to their grand kids. They are also “yeah God”. We try not to talk about religion. I’m not anti God, or Christianity, of course that is an entirely different blog.
Downstairs there is a bedroom where Stephanie’s little sister lives. I don’t know if she’s still a teen, or 20 or something. She watches the girls while everyone is at work. She is one of the funniest people I know. She’s got that dry sort of flat humor. She basically sponges off her parents and her sister and her brother in-law. Everyone else pays all of her bills, and Stephanie pays her to watch the kids. I think not paying a penny, when you are making a dime and over 18 living with your mommy and daddy is frankly, ridiculous. I got kicked out by my daddy when I was 21 and paying the bills. Thank you, Dad. Anyway, she has this almost constant posse of various other teens, that hang out and smoke and get high and eat the food and drinks that everyone else buys. It’s pretty cool. I think I had something like that when I was a teen. I always wondered why everyone hated me and my posse when we were teens, probably the same freaking thing. I think that another reason people don’t really like teens is because they make everyone else feel so freaking old and mature and I’ve already done that. Everyone calls them the stinky teens. But Stephanie’s little sister is super cool, like her big sister, only you know… 19 or 20 or something. She’s completely into music, and keeps us up to date on what is new and what is good.
I live on my futon in the large loft area. There is a computer, a TV, and my little fan that I can’t sleep without. So, this has been my home since I left my super luxury 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment, that my soon to be ex-husband wouldn’t move out of. That’s when Stephanie and her family offered me a place in their home, hence, the rescuing of Ruth.
Since the beginning of March, I have lived with this family. I can’t even tell you how good it’s been for me. Just being around this family, and feeling like a part of it, well, I get emotional. I’m moving out on the 20th, and I’m going to miss living with my best friend and her family. Thinking about it makes me sad. I love them. I have a good feeling that I will be visiting regularly.
I am, at this moment, ready to go to bed on my favorite futon. This futon is located in an enormous 2400 square ft house. There are 4 bedrooms, 3 full baths, and a very large loft. The loft is what everyone calls my room in the house. Honestly, I make my bed up every night (that I sleep here) and put it away every morning. A house guest, and that is really what I would call me should be a helpful presence not a hindrance. That is what I try to do.
I will never be able to express enough gratitude to my best friend and her family in this life time. This family saved my ass, they rescued me, and they became the family that I needed. I have always been around my brothers and sister, and both sets of parents, and all my grandparents, and aunts, and… lets just say that I have an enormous family. You could say that we are “tight”. They are all, with few exceptions, in NY. I am of course, here in California. I love it here. I want to and will stay here, whether or not I’m going through a tough spot.
The family consists of my best friend Stephanie, who is the closest person to me at this point in my life. She is my favorite, and we completely get each other. She understands me better than anyone else. I think that I need to write something just for her in the future.
Stephanie is also the mother of two lovely three yr old twin girls. They are identical, but they don’t seem it to me, they are both so very different. I love them. They can not do anything that isn’t cute. Even when they are screaming their heads off, all I can think is –how can you make balling beautiful- and then I ache a little because their crying, even when it’s because they aren’t getting their way. They are basically the reason why Stephanie and I got to be such great friends. I was their nanny for something like a few months. I think I loved them by the second week in their company. When I think about how much I love them, and then I think about having my own (someday), well, I am just amazed by the human heart. In all honesty, I think that I could love kids that aren’t mine as if they were. They are so easy to love. Both parents are almost crazy smart and their kids are the same way. I swear I could talk about them all day.
They have a really great daddy too. He is hilarious, super smart, and very thoughtful. He is so good to his family. They have a beautiful solid marriage. They constantly forgive each other, deal with stressful stuff in a constructive way, and are free of any kind of jealousy or mistrust. They are in love, for real, I would have to say. They have a beautiful solid marriage. It’s wonderful to know that those are out there and are possible.
Then there are Stephanie’s parents, who live in the super master deluxe suite infinity period. They have the mother of all bedrooms. They have the Mack daddy of all big ass bedrooms. I could probably live in their bathroom, it’s as Steph would say “ginormous”.
Her daddy is super de duper intelligent, and sometimes a little odd. He has all these awesome colognes, so their room always smells great. I know that he holds back from saying something to me, when I’ve been out all night, or weekend. I’m proud to be considered an adopted daughter sort of. Stephanie’s mommy is in love with soaps. No, I’m serious. She is addicted to soaps on TV, like I’m addicted to the internet multiplied by 2. She is understanding and sweet. She is also addicted to ice-cream. This makes me fat, because if I see you eating some of it, I want some too. They are both a little neurotic. It’s not a bad thing. They like the house clean, and when there are kids and 8 people (plus) living in one house, well it gets dirty. I try to clean as much as I can. I like a clean house. If I’m going to clean, I don’t half ass it, it’s fucking sterilized. I think that they like this about me. They are really great to their grand kids. They are also “yeah God”. We try not to talk about religion. I’m not anti God, or Christianity, of course that is an entirely different blog.
Downstairs there is a bedroom where Stephanie’s little sister lives. I don’t know if she’s still a teen, or 20 or something. She watches the girls while everyone is at work. She is one of the funniest people I know. She’s got that dry sort of flat humor. She basically sponges off her parents and her sister and her brother in-law. Everyone else pays all of her bills, and Stephanie pays her to watch the kids. I think not paying a penny, when you are making a dime and over 18 living with your mommy and daddy is frankly, ridiculous. I got kicked out by my daddy when I was 21 and paying the bills. Thank you, Dad. Anyway, she has this almost constant posse of various other teens, that hang out and smoke and get high and eat the food and drinks that everyone else buys. It’s pretty cool. I think I had something like that when I was a teen. I always wondered why everyone hated me and my posse when we were teens, probably the same freaking thing. I think that another reason people don’t really like teens is because they make everyone else feel so freaking old and mature and I’ve already done that. Everyone calls them the stinky teens. But Stephanie’s little sister is super cool, like her big sister, only you know… 19 or 20 or something. She’s completely into music, and keeps us up to date on what is new and what is good.
I live on my futon in the large loft area. There is a computer, a TV, and my little fan that I can’t sleep without. So, this has been my home since I left my super luxury 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment, that my soon to be ex-husband wouldn’t move out of. That’s when Stephanie and her family offered me a place in their home, hence, the rescuing of Ruth.
Since the beginning of March, I have lived with this family. I can’t even tell you how good it’s been for me. Just being around this family, and feeling like a part of it, well, I get emotional. I’m moving out on the 20th, and I’m going to miss living with my best friend and her family. Thinking about it makes me sad. I love them. I have a good feeling that I will be visiting regularly.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Friday, June 03, 2005
hearts of space
my heart is running on empty. my love is cheap. my legs are open. i seek no sleep. my head is restless and idle. i cannot weep. i feel that the feeling is going, i'm falling asleep. my love is on pins and needles. it's a bloody pile. it's just a mess. i haven't any patience. i long for no one. i want only a dangling carrot. give it to me and i'll run away. no, i'm lying. i won't stop running. i want to trust. i want to be hurt again. fuck me up. finger my soul. make my cheeks glow. here i need to be alone. surrounded. seal me in tight. make me face my insides. make me taste myself. make it so that i'm okay being alone. time wash over me. how did i get here? there was a series of steps. i was running. i was running. how do i stop? how do i face it? how do i attack it? everything is so fucking wrong. why am i not living the life that i want? it's all about me. forget you. i'll listen to you next week, maybe. i'm never sure of anything. the way i figure it that makes me sane. or maybe on the safer side of fucked. once you think you got it all spelled out, and you're connecting the dots, well, your fucked. your in your own comfortably fucked up palace. you've got your servants and your masters. you seek out something perfect, something ideal and you are only about to fail. you seek out your spot, your niche, your little crevices in this silly suicide temple. can't figure it out? can't make it work? good. life's got to hold some sort of mystery. just like people. otherwise, you find everything a whole lot more beige. a whole lot more blah, blah. a whole lot more of what you don't want, mixed in with what you might want. shit, deciding has always been the hardest part. or was it overcoming my laziness? i am an expert procrastinator. that is one freaking thing that i have mastered. i need to wake up. i need to push the haze aside. i need to spread apart something other than my legs. let my brain do some exploring. let it have it's way with me. cut everyone off. everyone, including my carnal self. no more sex for you. accomplish something, and i'll let you get fucked. take away my drug. take away my passion for running. fuck. i'm fucked. i feel like i'm at the summit and it's time to go back down. climbing down is only easy if your falling.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Did you see the last Extreme Home Makeover? and Ranting.
Things like this make me cry like hell.
I wonder should I stay in for another 6 years. I already have 7 under my belt. Why not do the whole retirement thing? What do I have to lose? Any way during this one episode... well, they built this veterans meeting building on a reservation. They built a home for the Piestewa family.
This is the story -
"When PFC Lori Piestewa was in Iraq, she told her roommate and best friend, PFC Jessica Lynch, that her dream was to return to her home in Tuba City, Arizona and build her parents a house to which they could retire. But in March 2003, Lori lost her life, becoming the first American woman killed in the Iraq war. Lori died while trying to save the lives of her friends, Jessica Lynch and Shoshannah Johnson, as she navigated her Humvee through gunfire and debris when it was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade.
Lori is also believed to be the first Native American woman to die in a foreign war. She was a true warrior spirit who fought and died for her country. The 23-year-old divorced mother left behind two young children, Brandon and Carla Whiterock, who are six and five years old, respectively, and are being cared for by Lori's parents, Percy and Terry Piestewa. Currently the family lives in a rented 1200 square-foot mobile home on a reservation in Tuba City, Arizona.
Percy, a junior high school administrative assistant and his wife, Terry, who works as a maintenance worker at the same junior high school, would like to move to Flagstaff, where they can be closer to family. Now, with help from neighboring tribes, as well as the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition design team, the Piestewas will be able to raise their grandchildren in a new home. They will also have a proper place to put all of the many mementos that they've received from people all over the world who wanted to honor their fallen heroine daughter.
Lori has received many posthumous honors, including being promoted from Private First Class to Specialist First Class by the U.S. Army. Last Memorial Day she was remembered with rose petals in a ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery, and she was honored on September 21, 2004 at the opening ceremony of the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC."
I think it's fucked up that they promote people after they are dead. What the fuck is that?
Anyway, they also built this beautiful building for the Veterans. They were all crying and appreciative. It was gut wrenching for me.
So - I have also been struggling with this life altering decision - namely, should I reenlist? Honestly, and I don't know what you believe, but I think that everyone in the nation should work for it in some way for at least 2 years. Either, you do the military thing, or you do the -within our borders- AmeriCorps thing or something to that affect.
Of course, that is just my humble taxpaying opinion. By the way this is all JUST my humble opinion. Honestly, we are the modern day Rome; the only direction we can go is down. Thank goodness, we have the “leader” we have. >As I chuckle and cry on the inside< Of course he’s just a figurehead that gets to take blame for a very long list of fucked up shit. Let’s see our military is spread extremely thin, I can’t even get into the war. The powers that be have fucked over our military (so that, our “volunteer military” doesn’t want to volunteer anymore). The whole environment thing, well, that’s fucked. It’s just not “profitable”. I could seriously go on forever about this shit.
So, here I am wondering, how can I help in a country that is so fucked up? Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s an amazing place. I love America, and I hate it. I hate so much of our history. We fucked up the Native American’s, we thoroughly enjoyed slavery, we dropped the bomb, and this is just the beginning. We, and I mean American’s (to include myself) have such a narrow view of what is actually going on. That and the whole attitude that we are all freaking entitled to whatever the hell we want. Take it if you want it. It’s no wonder that everyone else on the planet pretty much hates us. It’s all about me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Fuck everyone else. So, what do I do? Do what you want to do, right?
Do whatever the fuck you want. So, go into graphic design, or reenlist and go into the medical field. We are all so selfish. I am so selfish. I don’t want to choose the easy option this time. I don’t want to think that way anymore. If it’s going to work, it’s going to take work. I’m not talking the Atkins’ Diet here. I’m not talking the easy road. I need to find my path, whether or not it’s straight up hill on my knees.
Shit what the fuck was I talking about?
Out.
I wonder should I stay in for another 6 years. I already have 7 under my belt. Why not do the whole retirement thing? What do I have to lose? Any way during this one episode... well, they built this veterans meeting building on a reservation. They built a home for the Piestewa family.
This is the story -
"When PFC Lori Piestewa was in Iraq, she told her roommate and best friend, PFC Jessica Lynch, that her dream was to return to her home in Tuba City, Arizona and build her parents a house to which they could retire. But in March 2003, Lori lost her life, becoming the first American woman killed in the Iraq war. Lori died while trying to save the lives of her friends, Jessica Lynch and Shoshannah Johnson, as she navigated her Humvee through gunfire and debris when it was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade.
Lori is also believed to be the first Native American woman to die in a foreign war. She was a true warrior spirit who fought and died for her country. The 23-year-old divorced mother left behind two young children, Brandon and Carla Whiterock, who are six and five years old, respectively, and are being cared for by Lori's parents, Percy and Terry Piestewa. Currently the family lives in a rented 1200 square-foot mobile home on a reservation in Tuba City, Arizona.
Percy, a junior high school administrative assistant and his wife, Terry, who works as a maintenance worker at the same junior high school, would like to move to Flagstaff, where they can be closer to family. Now, with help from neighboring tribes, as well as the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition design team, the Piestewas will be able to raise their grandchildren in a new home. They will also have a proper place to put all of the many mementos that they've received from people all over the world who wanted to honor their fallen heroine daughter.
Lori has received many posthumous honors, including being promoted from Private First Class to Specialist First Class by the U.S. Army. Last Memorial Day she was remembered with rose petals in a ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery, and she was honored on September 21, 2004 at the opening ceremony of the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC."
I think it's fucked up that they promote people after they are dead. What the fuck is that?
Anyway, they also built this beautiful building for the Veterans. They were all crying and appreciative. It was gut wrenching for me.
So - I have also been struggling with this life altering decision - namely, should I reenlist? Honestly, and I don't know what you believe, but I think that everyone in the nation should work for it in some way for at least 2 years. Either, you do the military thing, or you do the -within our borders- AmeriCorps thing or something to that affect.
Of course, that is just my humble taxpaying opinion. By the way this is all JUST my humble opinion. Honestly, we are the modern day Rome; the only direction we can go is down. Thank goodness, we have the “leader” we have. >As I chuckle and cry on the inside< Of course he’s just a figurehead that gets to take blame for a very long list of fucked up shit. Let’s see our military is spread extremely thin, I can’t even get into the war. The powers that be have fucked over our military (so that, our “volunteer military” doesn’t want to volunteer anymore). The whole environment thing, well, that’s fucked. It’s just not “profitable”. I could seriously go on forever about this shit.
So, here I am wondering, how can I help in a country that is so fucked up? Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s an amazing place. I love America, and I hate it. I hate so much of our history. We fucked up the Native American’s, we thoroughly enjoyed slavery, we dropped the bomb, and this is just the beginning. We, and I mean American’s (to include myself) have such a narrow view of what is actually going on. That and the whole attitude that we are all freaking entitled to whatever the hell we want. Take it if you want it. It’s no wonder that everyone else on the planet pretty much hates us. It’s all about me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Fuck everyone else. So, what do I do? Do what you want to do, right?
Do whatever the fuck you want. So, go into graphic design, or reenlist and go into the medical field. We are all so selfish. I am so selfish. I don’t want to choose the easy option this time. I don’t want to think that way anymore. If it’s going to work, it’s going to take work. I’m not talking the Atkins’ Diet here. I’m not talking the easy road. I need to find my path, whether or not it’s straight up hill on my knees.
Shit what the fuck was I talking about?
Out.
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