Things I can guarantee

I don't really believe in resolutions- at least not the fly-by-night New Year's kind. Those are almost always doomed to failure- something about being overly ambitious.

But the following list is of things that I can guarantee I will not do next year. Or any future year, for that matter.

1. I will not wear leg warmers. I found a pair from High School (not the musical, but the highly regrettable reality) in a box with some sweaters that I brought back from the storage depot at my Mother's ranch. They will be appropriately disposed of. Unless anyone wants them- any takers?

2. I will not wear gaucho pants. Or any other similarly cropped pants. Makes my overly developed calves look like tree trunks. (thank you track and field- for the calves, I mean) I haven't looked good in those since 5th grade, and even then it was sketchy. I thought I looked good. But in pictures, reality is a little different. But I was in 5th grade, so was a cute kid anyway. Not so much now.

3. I will not wear heels over 2". Old lady back. That's that.

4. I will not attempt to drink 9 gin and tonics in one sitting. That was the last time I thought I was going to die in the bathroom. It was years ago, and I haven't forgotten the pain. Or the 5 voice mails I left on Kboy's cell phone. All about how I was going to die. He was out of our service area. Which is good. He didn't need to be there. It was just my own little "situation" to handle, and there wasn't anything he could do to contribute.

5. I will not break our pillow rule again. We travel with our pillows. It helps with the sleeping in different beds on road trips. At least one thing is constant that way. Our pillows are nice. They are our friends. They were missed during the last road trip.

6. And apparently I will not be forgetting the Bon Jovi lyrics to Dead or Alive anytime soon. They are still echoing in my head. Gotta thank the friends for that one. Oh yeah. Because I am a cowboy. And on a steel horse I ride. Fuck.......meh.

That should do. I can't really think of any other hard and fast rules that I have. I'm sure others will occur to me, but some are far too personal to post on the internet. And others are just plain embarrassing. You all don't need to know all the stupid/silly stuff that I have done and don't care to repeat in this lifetime. That's all.

Be careful tonight, and have fun! Wear a condom. Don't drive angry.

Back but lazy as sin

Yes, I will embrace sloth, my personal favorite of the 7 deadly sins. Just because it is. Love me my sloth.

We are back. And it was fun. Exhausting as hell. Over 2000 miles driven. And we still like eachother. Actually, we are even speaking still. Nicely. I think it's the litmus of a successful relationship. Also a good test run for an unsuccessful one.

Small things- saw the hole in the ground that was my Grandparent's house. Cried a tad, but not as difficult as I feared. No going back now. Looks kind of permanent to me.

Saw the remaining Grandmother- she recognized me, or at least faked it very well. It was hard, but not as hard as I thought.

Played Rock Star- and have the dubious hallmark of being both:
a) the only one of us there with the attitude and vocal chords to very effectively pull off singing Hole.
and b) the only one with the vocal range and age to remember the lyrics and tune of Boston's Foreplay/Long Time.
And thanks to the game, I cannot get Bon Jovi's cowboy song out of my head. And I am NOT happy about that. Fucking steel horse. I ride. Wanted. Dead or Alive....I keep making up my own lyrics, and laughing to myself. Out loud of course. Because that is the kind of wing-nut crazy I am.

The cats appear to be happy to see us- they keep following me from room to room screaming until I sit down. Then they are in the lap. I feel love. It will wear off. Then they will be back to mostly ignoring us.

Got a very large bottle of single malt, and of of Maker's Mark for presents from an astute relative. And some nice beer from another. Gotta get my drink on. Now watch- it will take me years to drink the whiskeys. Because I do that. Hoard and preserve.

We did bring more of our stored crap back. Just part of whittling away at the accumulated boxes of thrift store treasures that we purchased back in school. We just have GOT to get on ebay soon.

And to round up my lazy assed post, ah, to hell with it. I'm done. Time for a nap.

Will be very quiet around here for a while...
going to another place.

Will be back in about a week. Probably with an update, and plenty of steam to let off.

Love to you all, Peace out.

Oh- one more thing to enjoy about the holidays-

I work in a building adjacent to one of the major upscale malls in the area. Hey fun!!!

Added to the list of things I can't seem to do right lately:

sleep without dramatic injury
drink coffee or wine (keep spilling on white clothing...wtf)
eat a meal without cheese in it
leave the cookies alone
give solid career advice
operate the new remote control for our new cable system- where the hell is Comedy Central?
not complain and/or whine about everything
navigate traffic without wishing death and dismemberment upon a select handful of other drivers
deal with the valet parkers at work without wishing death and dismemberment upon them
deal with the crappy Christmas music in the elevators at work without finding myself humming it later- Curse you "I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus!"

And I'm spent.

Dumbest thing of the day-

at 2:30 AM, rolled over funny and partially dislocated my shoulder.

at 2:30 AM, after screaming and crying, popped the arm back securely into the socket, and left the bed in search of pain pills and an ice pack.

4:30 AM, went back to bed for achy, breaky sleep.

No upper body workout at the gym for me for a while. I have it on authority.

There's a reoccuring dream that I have had lately. It revolves around a fireplace. The fireplace is gone now- it became mud about a month ago. If I could, I would've chiseled it out by hand myself and kept it God knows where, but safe and mine. Not an option. To add to the lengthy list of non-options. To be cryptic, the fireplace is key. Or core. It was the center of something complicated. Not just a house, more of a stand-in for the house and what the house represented.

And that's not being very clear. Because I am not in a clarity kind of mood. More of a muddled mess than usual. Not clear. If there were a psychic in the house, she or he would no doubt have trouble sorting the cards. It is the nature of things sometimes, right? Lack of clarity.

And others around me are finding their clarity daily. Yesterday a friend roared like a lion. And I am proud of her. She finally struck back at someone who had been underestimating and oppressing her for over two years. She scored a direct hit, and there is nothing legal that the other person can do. And this makes me happy. I can be happy by proxy.

I don't have any roaring needed at the moment. And it might come as no surprise, but I don't usually hesitate to roar when needed. That could be part of the lack of clarity. Nothing to be pissed about. So is this what is considered peace? I kind of doubt it. I somehow imagine peace as being more substantial. Less of a muddled attitude. Less of a casting about.

And no doubt, again, I am overthinking things. Because that is another game. Up there with the endless speechifying in my head.

And overall this silliness should be put aside, and I need to just get on with it.

I want to shout at them, "Stop talking past me, I am in the room, and I am listening."
But it would be inappropriate.
And I know that the anger that I feel isn't really about them.
It's more of a memory of anger and frustration of yore.
Because people are idiots.
And they fail to realize that the children around them are listening.
And those children probably have a very good idea of what is going on.
And those children may very well have some ideas of what they want and need.
But no one asks.
And it's easier to underestimate their cognitive abilities.
Than it is to have an actual honest discussion about reality.
Protection doesn't work, people.
Neither do lies.
They will come back and bite you in the ass every time.
Guaranfuckingteed.
If not tomorrow, then in twenty years.
Because the young don't necessarily forget.
And the buried anger can and will erupt in strange and uncompromising ways.
Enjoy.
And if anyone wonders why I have no children, re-read the above.
Again and again, until you get it.
Then ask my dentist- she knows.
She told me to my face.
It was the strangest bared-soul conversation I have ever had with a stranger.
It helps that she's Chinese.
It helps that she was telling me the story.
And that the story wasn't about me directly.
But it was my story too.
Kind of a creepy experience while getting my mouth x-rayed.
But there you have it.
Enjoy.
And while I haven't always depended upon the kindness of strangers,
I do expect it.
Because even though everything above is true, for the most part
the unkindness has come from closer to the fold.
And closer to the chest.
And closer to the mind.
Often from inside the skull.
I think that's the other definition of skullduggery.
Or am I thinking of skullfuggery?
Perhaps.
Enjoy.

Now, that is over

I put on our holiday lunch yesterday. For the "Leadership Team" to which I belong. I'm really unclear as to what I am leading. And who I am leading. But I'll stick around- mainly because I like the people and will drink the free hooch and eat the free food. And I report to the big guy who pays the bill. But this leadership team thingy- it is odd. All the privilege, none of the power. Gotta love that.

So for those of you who were wondering- admit it, I know you were- I did not get loaded. Only one drink. Lovely, lovely single malt- from a list of nice single malts. I didn't splurge on the spendiest one- that would be crass. And mama didn't raise no crass.

And now I have to go back and try and muster up enthusiasm for all and sundry, when I am now officially in Christmas break mode. Only I really don't get one of those anymore. And my body has never fully gotten off of the school schedule. Because, once again, I am an idiot and stayed in the system too long. Trained myself well, I did.

Ah well. Tomorrow we get our new tv system. The Tivo finally died. And it has been a black period in our lives. Thus the Twin Peaks discs have been on rotation. Next is the first season of Rome. God knows, I love a touch of ultraviolence. Especially when it includes togas.

I got thinking about this after reading a poem a friend wrote. It was chock full of guilt. And I just started thinking.

About the things that I have never gotten over, and those that I have. And how young I was at the time.

Funny, the really heavy blows, and the ones that I still carry had to do with things that boggled the minds and discombobulated the adults around me. Not the petty incidental crap of everyday disappointment. Just the biggies- death, alcoholism, rejection, loneliness, etc. The kinds of things that I still deal with in one way or another today. The small stuff really didn't matter all that much- I was surprisingly resilient.

I still remember bits and pieces that culminated in larger things- patterns. But the smaller things aren't all that important- just the patterns. Because they were how I learned. And how I behaved. Until I realized that they were patterns, and I could basically change them with some amount of effort. At least some of them. Not necessarily all, because hard wiring is always risky to play with- involves ripping out drywall and lots of other expensive reworking. And there comes a point where I am not interested in hiring a contractor to do the trick, just want to learn to live with it, if possible. Now THERE is your tortured analogy for the day. Just because I care. And want to share my crappy writing with the world.

Ah, but it's overwhelmingly anonymous. Which equals a small piece of liberation. Not that I don't stand behind what I say, it's just ... out there... more so than I usually allow in casual conversation.

And that is enough for today.

Letter to D-man

Ah, I've missed you. But I understand why we don't talk anymore. It's ok, really. Things change.

I have been thinking a lot about you lately. I'm not sure you still read this, which is also ok. But I thought that I would throw a message in a bottle out there.

I have been watching Twin Peaks again. An episode a day. And it reminds me of our walks in the Rattlesnake together. And reminds me of watching them the first time around with you. And our fascination with the Missoula connections.

Did you read that I actually met David Lynch? It was cool. Brief, but cool. The people who were at the reading were a passel of freaks, and I suppose I shouldn't act like I didn't belong. Because you of all people know what's going on inside my head, and how well that word really describes a large portion of my psyche.

I have a friend from work who really reminds me of you, too- another thing that has me thinking about you a lot. She and I work out together- we walk on treadmills and talk. She has the same birthday as you, only a few years later. She has a lot of the same personality traits, and is as scary-smart as you. Only you made me laugh more. I don't think she's quite as funny- something about taking herself kind of seriously and all.

I understood your message in our last conversation- that it was goodbye. I know. I understood. It doesn't mean that I don't think about you though. That's just part of it. Remember- my fixation with ghosts and all. This one is a fixation on the ghost of the best friendship I ever had. If you want to create some kind of odd zombie of that one, you have my number. I will always take your call.

Love you!

C.

For those who want to know- been working out extra hard all week, so am physically damned tired. And drained. But in a good/achy/this is good for me even though I hate it way. And work was hectic until today- prepping for a big thingy for the bossman. Which required some early mornings. And some late nights. Not all by me, but the effect is similar to the cause in some cases.

Other than that, we are good. Very good.

And now it's time for some retribution, my stylee.

I get to tell the Phoenician- yes, I am naming names here, to fuck themselves hard.

We are discussing the invoice, you see. For the event that they screwed me on.

And I am pissed. And I am reliving the pain of being there and dealing with their crap.

And I will give no quarter.

And there you have it.

No- I am not asking for a lot, just a touch of justice, if you will. That's all.

Creeping around the edges is a dream
it involves Barbie dolls- the kind they used to make- a long time ago
red lipstick
the smell of grass on a summer night
and a purple bicycle.

Add in the clean sand in the bottom of an irrigation trough-
fishing
the smell of pine trees on a summer day
and a cobalt blue tea cup.

Combine in a blender and pour into a tall Guiness branded pint glass
it won't foam the same.
Deal with it.
Drink it down.
It goes down smoothly.
Then watch it all recede.
Ah- but what it leaves behind.
Afterimages and residue resembling drool on your chin after a long winter nap on the couch.
Or you can just go watch a pirate movie instead.

If you are reading the news, there is weather here.

We live on a hill.

The sump pump in the basement works fine.

All is well.

When the plane lands I am not home. The recognition is there, but home is not. Home is over a thousand miles away.
When the plane lands it is recognizable and unavoidable.
The mountains lurk in the south, the brown of dead things left outside in the sun. A place where people die with some frequency by just taking a little stroll at the wrong time of day.
The air is warm and makes my eyes burn a little. I predict an allergy.
The sky is almost white with heat. All of the nascent blue has been leached away, leaving just pallid emptiness.
Dust creeps along the edges of everything, from my pores to the cracks in the sidewalk. Empty lots glitter with broken glass and metal. They are also along the edges of everything.
Trees that are really not trees, but sticks with leaves on top line the streets.
It is my personal version of hell. And not to be attempted without good cause.

Getting back on the chain gang

The last week was quiet around here. But busy elsewhere, where I spent what energy that I have back on doing good deeds for a dollar.

And this weekend is snowy, rainy and quiet. Just the way it needs to be.

And yes, I have some shopping done. It won't be a total scary thing in a few weeks.

What I really want I can never have.
Because the opportunity was never there, and time stands still for no one.
Knowing what their best times were.
Knowing who they were inside.
Knowing what the ghosts had of value before they became ghosts.
And value in that context does not mean financial.
What they loved.
What they hated.
Most of all what they were.
And there is no chance.
No Mulligans.
I have to make it all up on my own.
Assigning values and contexts.
Based on history and imagination.
Unsatisfactory at best.