I'm Going Back (for a few days).

Don't Panic...

So right now I’m *supposed* to be studying for an exam in Bio. Will get there, promise. No biggie. Then I’m going to be packing and doing laundry for my trip back to Mobile. *slight panic attack* haven’t been back since I left, and it’s going to be interesting. Lots of people, lots of old memories - both wonderful and horrid. Excited for seeing family and some friends again. Excited for the Mardi Gras beads I’ll get. *huge smiles* Everyone loves Mardi Gras beads. 
 
An update from Valentines… I’ve always hated Valentine’s day. This one was no exception. Except I had a blast out with the girls! A few friends from work and I went out to a local dive and raised a little hell that night. We drank, we danced, we flirted, we played pool, we had a ball. So it was worth it, most definitely. 

Okay, so now off to study Bio. Wish me luck!

Ride On. 

Paper Dragons

First, an attempt to update farther…

   
 I got my truck back today. First time I’ve driven her in almost a week! Felt good to be back behind her wheel. She drove nicely - nicer in fact that she had in a long time. So maybe I won’t have to relegate her to picking hay bales up out of the pasture or teaching the cousins how to drive in her… I may be able to get a few thousand more miles out of my pretty white truck. But I’m still keeping my eye open and bank account frugal… just incase. 
 Didn’t make it to the car show this past weekend… too much going on. Major sad. Was looking forward to that!
 Biceps are incredibly sore. Shoulder/Bench presses are kicking my ass. But I damn sure will be ready for summer this year!! 

 This past excerpt of life has been another rich in the fruits of revelation. Emotions are hard to deal with, but you don’t have to base your life around them. 
 The horse I’m astride for this part of my life is tentative, watchful, and skittish as hell. She’s elusive and edgy… like trying to keep a firm hold on water. One minute she’s boldly racing toward an intimidating cross country fence, and the next she’s shying off to the side suddenly in doubt of her confidence. 
 What do we do in a situation like that? If we’re schooling, we take the fence down a level. Since we can’t do that in cross country, we start with a smaller fence. Don’t force it. Both eyes forward, and eventually the horse will get across. Once she’s gained her airs and learned the tricks to “paper dragons” (which I will explain later), then she can master the higher/wider/much-more-scarier fences. 
 However if we’re in competition we don’t have the luxury of simply taking it slow. Sometimes we have to push the envelope and hope for the best. We loosen the reins, give a little trust, a little stroke on the neck. A deep breath. Regroup. Circle back around, keeping up your canter and head straight for the fence again. Don’t look at it. Look over it. Look towards your goal - not the obstacle in your path. 
 If the relationship is good and solid, then usually no problem. You sail right over and onto bigger and better things. If there are trust… issues that’s when you encounter the vicious circle of testing and retesting. What do you do in THAT situation? Either get off the horse and start all over, or take it back to a comfortable level where you both are sure in ya’ll’s mutual confidence. (how ya like that “ya’ll’s” thrown in there? Lol)
 

 So I guess right now I’m practicing. I have the luxury of schooling myself through lower fences before I hit the major water obstacles and option fences - talk about a mess there. 

Paper dragons… something a dear friend once explained to me. Usually the fears in our minds are much greater than the whole of the fears in reality. For example: there was a story about a child who lived in constant fear of going out doors. The child’s mother and father had told of horrid things that can happen - the wild animals that could eat you. At night, the child would stand by the window and catch glimpses of ghostly white animals beyond the safety of her door separating the outside from the inside. She had so built up this fear in her head that she, eventually, could hardly stand to look outside. The enormity of the situation shook her - she was trapped. She decided to be brave, bold, and courageous.. She ventured outside. Beyond the door that separated her safety and known from the danger of the unknown. Know what she found? All of the animals and dragons she’d glimpsed were paper. Nothing at all to fear from them. She’d been trapped in her own mind by paper dragons. 

How liberating a feeling to finally understand it’s all about strength of mind? Pushing your comfort boundaries and finding what works for you. 

May we all have the grace and strength to push our own boundaries enough to love.. To really love. To really live. To truly forgive. And to understand without fear or anger. To accept for what one is. 

Busy Update

Too Much To Do, So Little Time.

No, I haven’t forgotten to write. I’ve been too bloody busy! thank goodness. I was booked solid with massages this weekend, and will be again next weekend. Damned Valentines Day. Always hated that holiday. But thank you for the money!! School is keeping me on my toes - not challenging, but I don’t have as much time as I originally thought what with my work schedule now. But I’m not complaining! I’m about to have to get a new truck (eep?) so I need all the fundage I can manage. 

I haven’t been able to ride lately - again, too bloody busy. Hopefully I can get out there soon. And as soon as the weather warms up (like this spiring/summer) I’ll be able to put up some pics of diving. YES!! Can’t wait!

Riding, Diving, Massage, Shooting, New Vehicles, School ( LOL you see what my priority list is..).. Life is getting busy! Thank goodness. It was wholly too dull there for a while. So for now, it’s time for dinner and school work. And more truck-hunting. Will try to post some pics of what vehicles I’ll be seriously looking at. 

Ciao! 
 

Cold.

She sits at the table in a dank, gray room. Smoke from the half-gone cigarette burns her throat, but she ignores it and inhales again. There are five things on the table. A lighter the shape and oddly enough, a fair replica of the texture of a penis. The rest of the pack of Camel No. 9’s. An ashtray shaped like a cowboy hat. A highball glass with roughly four-fingers of good single-malt left in it. And the single malt’s original bottle. 

In one hand burns the cigarette. The other is resting in her lap. Held gently, almost tenderly within her grasp is a Ruger .44 Magnum SS Redhawk Revolver. There’s only one bullet. 

Patiently she waits. She’s at peace now. She’s finally facing her demons and nothing will stop her. 

Her hands are done shaking. Her heart is done fluttering. Her grey-green eyes are clear and expressionless; calm, if anything. 

Her mouth is a full and sensuous bright-red curve around the butt of the burning Camel. The thumb of her right hand strokes almost lovingly over the cool steel. 

She closes her eyes and sighs her pleasure at the liquid-fire burn of good scotch on the tongue. 

“Like liquid gold,” she whispers. 

She doesn’t have to wait long. Her demons always find her. She senses them coming. Surprisingly, her heart stays steady; doesn’t kick up a notch like usual. 

She lets loose a courageous lopsided grin. 

“Must be the scotch,” she muses softly. 

She puts the cigarette to her lips. Inhales. Cocks the hammer back. Exhales. And waits. Waits for just the right moment. 

Her demon arrives. She’s already taken aim. She knows. She always knows, just like they do. 

The resounding crack of the revolver is loud; but it’s over too fast for her to really notice. 

Smoke swirls from the forgotten cigarette. Death permeates the air and a sense of finality overwhelms. 

She takes another drag off the cigarette. A long one. And then another sip of scotch. A bigger sip than the last one. Quietly she leans forward and stubs out the Camel in the cowboy hat ashtray. The next sip of scotch tastes slightly salty; she realizes with a detached surprise she’s crying softly. 

She’s done it. She’s killed her demons. It’s not the time for rejoicing, though. Not yet. Right now, it’s time for mourning. Her demons knew her. Intimately. They were a part of her. Intimately. Killing them was killing an intimate part of herself. 

She lights another cigarette and perches it between her bright-red lips. In one hand, there’s a highball glass with two fingers of good single-malt still left. With the other hand, she gently wipes the steel of the revolver on her faded jeans. Sliding back her chair, she stands. Her scuffed boots echo her steps and close the chapter on those demons as she leaves them behind. 

She walks out the room. Takes another drag, another sip. 

“Yep,” she agrees with herself. “Liquid gold.” 

She doesn’t look back. 

~This is my first attempt at writing a short story… please comment! It felt good to get that out. It was a needed scenario. Amazing how sometimes writing can be so cathartic. 

Comic Relief

From one of my Favorite Authors...

“I haven't got the slightest idea how to change people, but still I keep a long list of prospective candidates just in case I should ever figure it out.”
 
“Seven beers followed by two Scotches and a thimble of marijuana and it's funny how sleep comes all on it's own.”

   
“Shit is the tofu of cursing.”
   
“I love things made out of animals. It's just so funny to think of someone saying, 'I need a letter opener. I guess I'll have to kill a deer.”
    
“My hands tend to be full enough dealing with people who hate me for who I am. Concentrate too hard on the millions of people who hate you for what you are and you're likely to turn into one of those unkempt, sloppy dressers who sag beneath the weight of the two hundred political buttons they wear pinned to their coats and knapsacks.”
    
“… [I] recall thinking that the computer would never advance much further than this. Call me naïve, but I seemed to have underestimated the universal desire to sit in a hard plastic chair and stare at a screen until your eyes cross.”
   
“Maybe I'll learn a trade. I've considered taxidermy. I always thought it was a shame you couldn't do that on people.”

• After a few months in my parents' basement, I took an apartment near the state university, where I discovered both crystal methamphetamine and conceptual art. Either one of these things are dangerous, but in combination they have the potential to destroy entire civilizations.

• They were nothing like the French people I had imagined. If anything, they were too kind, too generous and too knowledgable in the fields of plumbing and electricity.

• Underneath my window, there were huge groups of people running in the streets. They tried to overturn a car. So the woman opened her window and tried to throw water on them. So then they threw rocks up and tried to smash her windows. It was very exciting.

“Why refer to Lady Crack Pipe or Good Sir Dishrag when these things could never live up to all that their sex implied.”

A broken heart is a rite of passage and, looking back, I must have wanted one pretty badly. "Kick me," I demanded, and when somebody finally did, I burst like a cheap piñata.

~All quotes from various websites and credit to David Sedaris. 

Welcome To My Wonderland

Half-Lucid Thoughts

So I haven’t written in a while. School, work, and life are pretty darned good motivators to stay busy! The spa job that I was going to try worked out beautifully - lovely people, lovely atmosphere, lovely $$. Always a beautiful thing when the Universe works so lovely. 

Aaaaannd….I’ve given another cousin the virus… she’s into blogging now, too! Going to be interesting to read; she’s an avid outdoors-woman, and from the tone of her first post will be writing of her life and time on the amazing and grueling Alaskan frontier. While Mustang Sally and I are the equine aficionados, Wild Woman turned out to be just that - the wild woman! She downed her first caribou last fall, I believe it was, and trust me; that’s just the tip of the iceberg (as it were), for her Alaskan adventures! Be sure to read.

Progresso. 

My life has taken on a few tangled twists and turns, of late. I feel not unlike Alice who has just fallen down her rabbit hole into a rather stoned world of illusive white rabbits and mad, grinning cats. 

What’s more, I feel completely at home here in this web of wiles. What does that say about me? I don’t want to figure it out. I’d much rather sit by for the moment and sip my scotch watching that damned Cheshire cat frolic about and wonder just how much catnip he’s had… and if it works on humans. 

Seems a tad easier than trying to find the way out of the madness and endure the heartache in order to healthily progress in life. We can’t all be martyrs. 

Enter, Cheshire cat. 

But I can damn sure make IT a martyr. 

How does one figure out what elements of life are supposed to be there, and what aren’t? Or is it like scotch? You know it’s not really good for you. Well, you can convince yourself that it’s actually quite wonderful for you. It has so many charming side effects. It makes you think you’re invincible. You can do any damn thing you want! Fly off the roof? Sure! The fall won’t hurt THAT bad. 

But inevitably, you find yourself trying to pry your head out of your ass and your feet out of your mouth. 

So much for breaking the fall. 

For now though, it’s off to homework land. At least it’s a tad more lucid than Wonderland. 

Ciao.