Friday, October 29, 2004

03.25.03 Philly's Ashes

Word of the day: "Senflippingbloodysational"

Okay, so I am in the mood to write...'get it all out' you know, the way writing does at times.

But, I just don't know where to go or where to start, only that I want to go. Isn't that the joke?

Anyway, so I am going to grab stuff from a few books to use as 'starter fuel' for some verbage.

First of all from the book "IF...(Questions for the game of Life)" I am going to use some of the questions in there. The game is a bit trite, at least to my jaded self. For some reason, I feel, the 'IF' game is best left for kids stuck in the car with parents on a long trip to the Petrified Forest or the Salt Flats of Salt Lake City. But, I found it on one of the bookshelves...in our vast library. yeah, I have a vast library in my apartment...I can feel your envy. And I love it.

So here we go...from the Book of "IF"

Randomly turning the pages:

IF you could kill the pet of anybody you know, whose pet would it be:

Well, unfortunately God, or at least the God of Dogs, has already killed the pet of my choosing. Good bloody shot, I say.

I used to have a roommate who had a Dalmation named Philly. As in Philly Blunt, and the he probably had second hand smoked plenty of his namesake. Maybe, this is why he was so messed up. I am thinking it had more to do with breeding cousins and grandmas with grandsons to get the Dalmation breed.

I remember once Philly ate a bunch of cocaine. My roommate freaked out. At first I was all like, "It's nice to see her freaking out about the possibility her dog could get terribly ill from all of that coke he just ingested."

But, then I realized she was actually pissed AT the dog. Not so much the concern. I think Philly became emotionally scarred from this...and quite a bit buzzed. He ran around and around and around and around our living room. Seriously, dogs should NOT do coke. They totally can't deal.

This one time Philly got out and ran into the woods behind our apartment complex. He did this quite a bit, and I sometimes secretly hoped he wouldn't come back.

You know, he ate all of our curtains.

This time when he came back he ran into the living room and jumped onto the very small couch on which I was sitting and he threw up an entire stomach's worth of partially digested deer shit.

Some of it got on me.

It was actually steeming.

Another reason why I hate Philly. As if I would need another one. One time, when I was Philly-sitting for my roommate, Philly decided it would be really cool to eat an oven mit.

Now, I don't know if you realize this or not but dogs can't digest oven mits. The cotton fibers don't break down very much on the little road from the throat to the butthole. And sometimes these bulky, quilted, fibers can get stuck on the way out.

I pulled the thumb with one quarter's worth of an oven-mit still attached from the butt of that stupid dog. I mean, sure, he tried to crap it out. He did try, I saw the strain in the face, but the fact remains he didn't try hard enough, and I was forced to save his life...

And for this I hate him and would have killed him if he wasn't already in an Urn on Shantell's mantle. Philly Ashes.

03.24.03 That's So Gay.

I am finding that I am beginning to use the term, "That's so gay."

I have to admit, I first used the phrase cautiously. For obvious reasons, I felt guilty saying it, but then I realized after awhile that some things are just really 'gay.'

Now, I know it probably isn't PC for anyone to be using the word 'gay' in a negative way, especially someone who is gay, but I have come to realize that some parts of gay culture are kind of, well, gay. The fact that I would include myself in such a diverse 'we' and that this 'we' needs its own culture is pretty dumb, but yet there it is in all of its fabulous glory.

You know the old addage "I'll just take my tinker toys and go home." Well, I think that is what happens when whole groups of people are ostracized. They start their own reindeer games that are so much cooler than the games all of the other unhip reindeer are playing.

Seriously, though, 'gay culture' has become so elitist, I think in a way to make up for the years of shunning. Think about how 'cool' you are supposed to be when you are gay, or how hard some queens can be on the token good-looking straight guy who comes into the gay bar...or worse a non-cute gay boy. Oh, the pressure to be fashinable, or at least to own several pairs of good expensive shoes...Kenneth Cole?

For example...I was watching an episode of Will and Grace, a show I really don't want to like because of the perpetuating of strerotypes, but I can't help but laugh at the good writing, or myself.

Anyway, in the episode Karen's cousin has moved into the picture and he is recently out of the closet. Will and Jack, the seemingly only two sides of the proverbial gay coin, take it upon themselves to train the cousin to be a 'proper gay.'

They spend a lot of time coaching him on the proper clothes, what movies to like (Beaches, or anything musical,) and generally how to fit into the mold, because that is the only way to get a man in this crazy little world we have made for ourselves.

All I have to say is that is really gay.

I don't want to have to 'be' something in order to be myself. The sterotype is so old and tired and so not as cool as the stereotypes of the past. I mean, I would honestly take the San Francisco butch of the 70s or the tube socks, jogging shorts wearing image of the 80s over this plastic hollow archetype we have today.

I don't want to have the corner market on materialism. I just want a house, a yard, a dog, a cat, and a man in my bed. Nothing probably worthy of a techno anthem in the end, but then I never did quite fit the image. I am not soooo gay.

Peace...I am just rambling.

03.23.03 PBR Afternoon

I have been too busy doing the life thing, today, to write anything about it.

That, in my book, is an excellent day.

I am determined to not let this war completly suck out my ability to enjoy life, right now...in the now. I decided it would be a good thing to make the world a little more beautiful. At least the little lot of it I rent.

Yesterday, I bought one of those 'Garden Claws' that allows you to tear the shit out of the ground with fairly little effort. I turned pretty much my entire back yard, fertilized, and reseeded it with grass. Until now it has pretty much been a desolate waste land of a yard. Not this year!

Today I put up some small fencing to designate certain areas of the yard as 'garden spots.' I have over 200 bulb plants to put in the ground; Gladiola Grandiflorus, Hostas, Lily of the Valley and various other Lilys of the non-valley sort, also many different kinds of Iris's.

All along the fence I planted shit-tons of wildflowers. Mostly the sort that are supposed to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. With my luck, it will also attract all sorts of bees that will attack me as I gaze longingly at my garden paradise. Now, that's reality...along with the wheezing and coughing from the high pollen count. Oh, but wait, I am doing this to alleviate reality. Yeah, that's right.

I am now giving my blistered hands a rest...they really are blistered, damn garden claw, and sippin' a Pabst Blue Ribbon. Awwww that's the life.

Tonight a couple of my friends and I are walking down to a bar to see The Sea and Cake perform. It ought to be a pleasant evening. A Sapphire and Tonic night to end a PBR afternoon.

Life is a pretty sweet fruit.

Peace all.

03.16.03 The Benifit

Won't be writing a whole lot here tonight. I am still in the 'unwinding' process from my weekend at my Mother's.

I went home for the weekend, because my mom put together a benifit for my step-niece.

my niece seems to be recovering very well from her 'shaken baby syndrome.' We are still very unsure as to what developmental problems there will be. The doctors are still saying she is going to be mostly deaf and will have very poor eyes, if not blind.

Anyway, so, my mom put together a benifit to raise money to put into a trust fund. This money is to be used for any hospital bills or special needs she may have.

A lot of people showed up. It was quite the affair. It was a very 'american' moment. There were all types.

Some harley riding chaps showed up, wearing chaps, and missing teeth. Quite a few trashy girls wearing skin tight flair hip huggers, the new jeans of the all-american small town girl. My step-brother and his friends, who all looked pretty much the same, were there manning the children's duck pond. They all sort of looked like Kid Rock minus the country music vibe. They had scruffy long chin hair, thermal shirts with short sleeved t-shirts over them, and of course the ever stylish stocking cap. Carhart is in.

Oh, and there was an old tired stripper from the bar up on the hill. She was probably in her late 40s and looked very, as my mom would say, "road hard and put away wet." So many characters, it was great!

As incredibly 'white trash' as this gathering was, it was still very nice to see folks of so many different backgrounds getting together to raise money to help out a little girl.

There was a 50/50 drawing, a silent auction, and a raffle. The raffle prizes were amazing! There were free bottles of round-up weed killer and Leaf shine. (I have family that work at the local pesticide factory.) There was a gift certificate to the local stripper bar, tanning sessions, ugly yard ornaments, and other small town gems.

Food was plentiful. Pies, Cakes, Chili, Catfish, Brownies, a Redneck Cornicopia with an opened bar. My mom made a bunch of enchiladas...a bunch equalling hundreds. Folks were buying them by the dozen and taking them home. When I first got to the benifit I bought three of them and ate them, washing them down with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. The perfect white trash lunch. I was so one with my roots.

I asked my mom what would happen if Lillian ends up developing just fine with only a few minor disablities. Would they give back the money that was raised at the benifit? She said they would just use the money towards college.

We didn't raise quite enough for college. In the end there was 800 dollars raised, minus the cost to have Lillian's picture plastered on everything from buttons to T-Shirts. She is going to be so embarrassed when she is older.

All in all it was a good day. It reminded me how great my family is. Some would say they are bit dramatic and odd...I think instead that are just all dynamic people who aren't afraid to be themselves...no matter how nuerotic that may be.

Okay...and also dramatic and odd. But, that goes for me, too.

Gotta get some sleep.

03.17.03 Give Me Peace.

Operation Liberty Shield is in place, and I am not sure how that is supposed to make me feel.

The Homeland Security department...doesn't that sound like a rather paranoid department? Anyway, the Homeland Security Department has raised the bar once again to level Orange. We, Americans, are once again on high alert.

This new level is in direct response to our President Bush's declaration of "get the hell out of Dodge." Logic says that if we give an 'evil' leader a 48 notice to move him and his sons out of his very own country, then we can pretty much expect this 'evil' man to do a preemptive attack.

I wonder if we really need this alert system to put us on "readiness," a.k.a 'scaring the shit out of Americans so that they will completly de-humanize Saddam and back Bush's war like good Americans should?"

I am so confused about this situation. So, our biggest beef with Hussein is we believe he is in possession of weapons of mass destruction and weapons of chemical and germ warfare. Well, now I have to admit I, too, am against the idea of anyone have chemical weapons, or nuclear weapons, for that matter. However, I can't really say no other country can have nuclear weapons since my country has them, and is the only ones to have used them. Chemical weapons no, Nuclear weapons, no comment until we destroy ours.

On a side note regarding nuclear weapons. I remember in one of my Anthropology classes in college we watched a movie about the Marshall Islands, focusing mostly on the Bikini Island testing. I remember it told the story of when we tested our nuclear weapons there after had already dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. I guess we were still not convinced by all of the Death and cancer that it was truly a Weapon of destruction beyond the normal destruction we see with bombs of the non-nuclear variety.

During the period from June 30, 1946, to August 18, 1958, the United States conducted 67 nuclear tests in the Marshall Islands, all of which were considered atmospheric. The most powerful of those tests was the "Bravo" shot, a 15 megaton device detonated on March 1, 1954, at Bikini atoll. That test alone was equivalent to 1,000 Hiroshima bombs.

We had told the natives there that their cooperation in these testings was very important to the world, and keeping the world peaceful. The islanders were moved out of the their homes on Bikini Island and relocated to a 'safer' Island that just happened to be down wind from the "Bravo" shot blast.

There were many stationed officers on ships in "safe zones" around the perimiter of the blast. I remember there was a "ghost ship" close to where the bomb was to go off above it in the atmosphere with goats in cages. They wanted to see what the effects would be on these goats from the nuclear explosion. Of course, when they went to check on them after the blast they were dead.

I have added here a time line of the Marshall Islands testings. Read through it if you want. I think it is good we know some of things we have done with weapons of mass destruction in the past before we start saying who should or should not possess them. In my opinion no country should have them. It is too much in the nature of man, this self-destruction, to allow any person, or group of people the access to destruction of us all.

If we destroy ourselves daily in our thoughts why would we not destroy an enemy, or an ally just the same?

I remember the thing that haunted me the most about the movie in Anthro. class was when a radio announcer was talking to America about this new weapons testing at this far away place, Bikini Island. He said that it was God's will that we received this weapon, because God knew we would be the only country to use it justly.

We are a country that believes a Nuclear Weapon is God's will.

Peace.

Marshall Islands Still Burdened with Legacy of American Nuclear Testing and Radioactive Poisoning

By Catherine Payne

Staff Writer

On Jan. 18, the United States conducted a missile test in the Marshall Islands, a small Pacific island nation that was a U.S. nuclear testing site from 1946 to 1958.

The following chronology of events highlights important dates in the history of nuclear testing in the Marshall Islands:

1946- The U.S. evacuates Bikini, one of the Marshall Islands, to conduct the first post-World War II nuclear weapons tests.

1947- The Marshall Islands and most of Micronesia become a U.N. Trust Territory to be administered by the U.S. S

1948-1951- The U.S. conducts seven atomic tests at Enewetak, one of the Marshall Islands.

1952- Operation Ivy includes the test of a thermonuclear device that is estimated to be 750 times larger than the Hiroshima bomb. The device vaporizes an island.

1954- The Bravo hydrogen bomb, which is 1,000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb, is detonated at Bikini. Within hours, a white ash envelops Bikini and nearby islands. Islanders exposed to the radioactive fallout immediately suffer nausea, vomiting and skin burns and later lose their hair.

Project 4.1, "Study of Response of Human Beings Exposed to Significant Beta and Gamma Radiation due to Fallout from High Yield Weapons" establishes a medical group to monitor and evaluate the islanders.

1956- Operation Redwing includes 17 nuclear tests, including several hydrogen bombs.

The United States gives the people of Enewetak and Bikini a total of $50,000 in compensation.

1958- Operation Hardtack consists of 32 nuclear tests.

1963- Medical professionals detect thyroid tumors among the islanders.

1975- The people of Bikini file a lawsuit in U.S. federal court for a complete scientific survey of the Marshall Islands.

1976- The U.S. Congress approves $20 million and military logistic support for a nuclear cleanup of Enewetak.

1980- The U.S. Defense Nuclear Agency announces the completion of the Enewetak nuclear cleanup, which cost $218 million.

1986- The Compact of Free Association between the Republic of the Marshall Islands and the United States goes into effect. Under the terms of the Compact, the United States will provide economic assistance to the Marshall Islands in grants that range from $26.1 to $19.1 million per year over a 15-year period. In return, the Republic of the Marshall Islands gives the United States the right to use its lands, waters and airspace for military activities and operations. In addition, "The Compact includes an espousal provision, prohibiting Marshall Islanders from seeking future legal redress in U.S. courts and dismissing all current court cases in exchange for a $150 million compensation trust fund," according to a Republic of the Marshall Islands report.

1994- U.S. Reps. George Miller and Ron de Lugo write to the Advisory Committee on Human Radiation Experiments, "There is no doubt that the AEC (Atomic Energy Commission) intentionally returned (Marshallese) to islands which it considered to be "by far the most contaminated places in the world, but which it told the people were safe. Nor is there any doubt that the AEC, through the Brookhaven National Laboratory, then planned and conducted test after test on these people to study their bodies’ reaction to life in that contaminated environment."

In the past few years, the people of the Marshall Islands made personal claims that totaled $43.2 million on the Nuclear Claims Tribunal’s fund which the United States provided under the terms of the Compact. As of today, the $45-million trust fund is nearly exhausted.

In 2001, specific provisions of the Compact of Free Association will be up for renegotiation. Those provisions include the economic assistance the United States will provide to the Marshall Islands as well as the right of the United States to use the area for military activities and operations.

If you made it to the end...what do you think? Are we completly a 'peaceful' nation?

I really wish we were.

Peace.



03.14.03 Eat Fresh.

I am just around the corner from sleep...

I was thinking earlier about the time I had to dress up like a giant sub sandwich when I worked at Subway.

The 'costume' I wore was like a giant balloon that was blown up by a air compressor that was strapped to my back. A giant Cold Cut Combo with lettuce, tomato, green pepper, Big Eyes, and a huge-ass grin. All balanced on top of my little bean-pole legs. I had to stand inside of this thing by the highway and wave to the cars as they went by. A lot people honked and waved. Some people yelled stuff...like, "Fuck you!" and "Fag." I felt like a Superstar!

I saw this little girl walking into Subway with her mother, and thought she might want to give me a hug, or something. I guess I had it in my mind that kids liked giant inflatable sandwich people, but apparently I was wrong. She ran away screaming and buried her face, terrified, into her Mother's chest. The mom flashed me a look of anger as if I tried to scare the shit out of her little girl.

I have to admit it was a little funny and maybe a little bit intentional. I am sure even a Giant Mickey gets pleasure from freakin' out little mousketeers. Not saying I was anywhere in the same league as a Mickey Mouse or Bugs Bunny. Those are Theme Park characters.



I was just a sandwich.




03.13.03 America

I am anthropomorphosizing America, this evening.

Darren and I have been having a discussion about America and what is happening to Her. I feel that we are encroaching upon a dark time in America.

He thought I was referring to a 'Dark Ages,' and argued that he couldn't see the end of the arts at this point in time, with how strongly culture, and the sharing and integrating of other cultures, is so strongly imbedded within our society. This is the Age of Information.

I was leaning more towards a dark 'tone' being ahead. Darren thought perhaps I was just projecting and that it is merely my perspective of America that has darkened based upon my own past experiences.

Also, he said as quickly as things move now it is diffcult to differentiate between 'periods.' It's as if you were to view 'culture' and the 'tone' of America as a wave. The points of the waves to represent highs or lows of the overall spirit of America. Am I losing you, yet?

Anyway, I am thinking this 'low wave' probably started at 911. And, I think it is very appropriate that the psyche' of America is still disturbed by the assult on Her, and perhaps this Project Enduring Freedom (?) is a result of this wounded spirit.

This wasn't what I was trying to say, however. This is supposed to be the communication age, but I can't get my point across to someone in the same room. Ironic.

What I was trying to say was...My relationship with America is going to get complicated and conflicted if we do attack Iraq. The rest of my life may, or may not be affected by my relationship with Her, but I forsee this to be a time when the majority of people will be having similar relationships with America and this will determine Her tone as a country.

This is what I mean by a 'dark time.' We are creating Her by our actions. Our thoughts and views of Her shape Her existence. She can be a strong, caretaker of freedom, or a vengeful imperialistic dictator.

Empathy got us here, I think. It is going to take a vast change in thought-making and an awakening of a national pride to get the great inertia to change directions. I wonder if we still have it in us.

Some things go to sleep to never wake again.

Peace.

03.11.03 Oh, Happy Day!

Last night, one of my good friends, Dara, stayed overnight. She dropped Simon (her son) off at his Dad's house. Simon was going to spend the weekend up here.

Just a few things I thought were amusing from our conversation last night.

- She told me she was watching a comedian on Comedy Central the other night and the comedian said she couldn't understand Homophobia. She has never, in her life, seen folks who are Arachnophobic run up and punch a spider square in the face.

- Simon is in 1st grade and he has decided he wants to be the class clown. Dara has explained to him that the class clown isn't the most repected kid in the class. I don't think Simon is going for respect at this point in his life. He is going for laughs.

He is doing the typical things 1st graders do. For example, he fell down in music class and got a few laughs...so, he then proceeded to fall down about 5 more times until the class was laughing so hard they all got in trouble.

He says he can't control himself when he gets 'silly.'

I think it's funny that when we are kids we honestly believe we can't control ourselves...and then when we are adults we totally think we can control ourselves, but it is quite apparent that this isn't completly true.

Anyway...Dara has set up a rewards and punishment plan. If he continues to not be able to control himself she is going to take everything out of his room except his bed, blankets, pillows, and maybe the nightlight.

When he is good she lets him have a 'popcicle,' which is really just frozen Kool-Aid on a stick, but he loves it just the same. So much, in fact he told Dara that at the the end of the day, at school, the only word he can say is "icee." Fortunately, he has discovered a switch on his voicebox that allows him to 'turn on' other words.

Dara informed him that if he continues to do this people are going to think he is completly insane, and start making fun of him.

His response was..."so, you want me to put my brain in a prison.?"

Heh heh, kids are so funny!!

03.08.03 What? Put My Brain in a Prison?

Last night, one of my good friends, Dara, stayed overnight. She dropped Simon (her son) off at his Dad's house. Simon was going to spend the weekend up here.

Just a few things I thought were amusing from our conversation last night.

- She told me she was watching a comedian on Comedy Central the other night and the comedian said she couldn't understand Homophobia. She has never, in her life, seen folks who are Arachnophobic run up and punch a spider square in the face.

- Simon is in 1st grade and he has decided he wants to be the class clown. Dara has explained to him that the class clown isn't the most repected kid in the class. I don't think Simon is going for respect at this point in his life. He is going for laughs.

He is doing the typical things 1st graders do. For example, he fell down in music class and got a few laughs...so, he then proceeded to fall down about 5 more times until the class was laughing so hard they all got in trouble.

He says he can't control himself when he gets 'silly.'

I think it's funny that when we are kids we honestly believe we can't control ourselves...and then when we are adults we totally think we can control ourselves, but it is quite apparent that this isn't completly true.

Anyway...Dara has set up a rewards and punishment plan. If he continues to not be able to control himself she is going to take everything out of his room except his bed, blankets, pillows, and maybe the nightlight.

When he is good she lets him have a 'popcicle,' which is really just frozen Kool-Aid on a stick, but he loves it just the same. So much, in fact he told Dara that at the the end of the day, at school, the only word he can say is "icee." Fortunately, he has discovered a switch on his voicebox that allows him to 'turn on' other words.

Dara informed him that if he continues to do this people are going to think he is completly insane, and start making fun of him.

His response was..."so, you want me to put my brain in a prison.?"

Heh heh, kids are so funny!!

.

03.03.03 My Indian Summer

I would really like a cigarette.

I am a non-smoker now. Something I really didn't see happening...the not smoking thing that is. I really enjoyed smoking. I was good at it.

Now I am just manic. I find it very hard to sit still for very long. That feeling that something isn't right is too much and I have to DO something to alleviate it.

You know the feeling I am talking about. It's that little hole we are all born with that nags at us. The feeling that there is something missing from our lives. So, we do stuff, or smoke stuff, or snort stuff, or buy stuff to make the feeling go away. But it doesn't. No matter how many things we try to shove into the void it just won't go away. A void is a void.

Is it just part of our human condition, this feeling of want.

I got Eastern for a bit. Studied the Tao a bit, took a gander at the Bhagavad Gita, thumbed through some Buddhist teachings. I thought they had a pretty good grasp on the whole "void" thing.

From what I gathered from the little I really do know...this void is kind of a spiritual nudge. We have convinced ourselves we are all separate. You are separate from me, I am seperate from this keyboard...when in all truth there is no boundary. Think about it...can you tell me where YOU start and where YOU end? I am not talking about 'You' end at the top of your head...are you the top of your head? Whoa...getting all "rambly" here.

My point is, sort of, that this emptiness is just a reminder that we should come home. What that means exactly, I don't have a fuckin' clue. It just feels right. I am sure the Christians would connect it with our falling out, or away from, God. I don't know if I believe that because that would mean we are seperate from God...and that just can't be. How could it be that in the beginning all there was, was God...and then he created the Earth and Heavens, including us and the fishes and stuff, seperate from Him. There would be no 'seperate' from that which is everything...but really not a thing in the first place. Whoa. I really should jump off of this train of thought.

So, anyway, I have been feeling lost as of late. Hence the quasi-spiritual purge.

I went shopping for a new bed with my Boyfriend today. I can't help but feel odd doing such things with him. We are gay, I am okay with that...I have to be it's my life. However, a lot of the world is NOT okay with that, and buying a bed together just advertises to those at the furniture shop that we sleep together. I know I shouldn't give a shit what they think, but I can't help but think of the things going through their head. It disgusts me that they might think I am disgusting.

I find I am a little sensitive to the way people treat each other, anyway. I just don't get hate. I know that sounds trite. But, damn it, it is true. I just don't get us and our crazy prejudices and

fears. We start off so accepting and curious of the world, and then somewhere our spongy brains sucks up enough poison that our soul spoils, and we fear the world.

We are all so damned scared and alone.

03.02.03 Spongy Brains

I would really like a cigarette.

I am a non-smoker now. Something I really didn't see happening...the not smoking thing that is. I really enjoyed smoking. I was good at it.

Now I am just manic. I find it very hard to sit still for very long. That feeling that something isn't right is too much and I have to DO something to alleviate it.

You know the feeling I am talking about. It's that little hole we are all born with that nags at us. The feeling that there is something missing from our lives. So, we do stuff, or smoke stuff, or snort stuff, or buy stuff to make the feeling go away. But it doesn't. No matter how many things we try to shove into the void it just won't go away. A void is a void.

Is it just part of our human condition, this feeling of want.

I got Eastern for a bit. Studied the Tao a bit, took a gander at the Bhagavad Gita, thumbed through some Buddhist teachings. I thought they had a pretty good grasp on the whole "void" thing.

From what I gathered from the little I really do know...this void is kind of a spiritual nudge. We have convinced ourselves we are all separate. You are separate from me, I am seperate from this keyboard...when in all truth there is no boundary. Think about it...can you tell me where YOU start and where YOU end? I am not talking about 'You' end at the top of your head...are you the top of your head? Whoa...getting all "rambly" here.

My point is, sort of, that this emptiness is just a reminder that we should come home. What that means exactly, I don't have a fuckin' clue. It just feels right. I am sure the Christians would connect it with our falling out, or away from, God. I don't know if I believe that because that would mean we are seperate from God...and that just can't be. How could it be that in the beginning all there was, was God...and then he created the Earth and Heavens, including us and the fishes and stuff, seperate from Him. There would be no 'seperate' from that which is everything...but really not a thing in the first place. Whoa. I really should jump off of this train of thought.

So, anyway, I have been feeling lost as of late. Hence the quasi-spiritual purge.

I went shopping for a new bed with my Boyfriend today. I can't help but feel odd doing such things with him. We are gay, I am okay with that...I have to be it's my life. However, a lot of the world is NOT okay with that, and buying a bed together just advertises to those at the furniture shop that we sleep together. I know I shouldn't give a shit what they think, but I can't help but think of the things going through their head. It disgusts me that they might think I am disgusting.

I find I am a little sensitive to the way people treat each other, anyway. I just don't get hate. I know that sounds trite. But, damn it, it is true. I just don't get us and our crazy prejudices and

fears. We start off so accepting and curious of the world, and then somewhere our spongy brains sucks up enough poison that our soul spoils, and we fear the world.

We are all so damned scared and alone.

02.26.03 Mona Lisa on Black Velvet

It's getting late. Well, late to me. I never used to think of Midnight in such a way.

Mostly my being tired is a product of Sudafed Nighttime and NyQuil...or "Nitetime" the generic version. Cheaper, but still knocks you out. A black sleep.

My Mom is still here. She is still talking about her ailments. I am convinced that she and my Aunt are in competition to see who can have the most surgeries. I think mom is winning.

I find it kind of funny that she has found a new hobby to "relax" her. She has started to buy those color-in black and white felt picures. You know the ones with angels holding hands, Unicorns prancing around a rainbow, or crazy celtic/yin yang combos. She told me tonight she prefers the "artsy" ones, like the black and white felt 'Mona Lisa' she saw at Kmart for 2.99. I am sure Miss Lisa hoped one day she would be once again immortalized in felt and day glo markers. Gotta love my Momma.

My niece is doing much better. She is moved out of intensive care. We are still unsure of how the brain damage is going to manifest itself.

I really try to not to think about what happened to her. I don't like to think of what man is capable of. When I think of deeds some men do, I question the thread that runs through us all. Are we all that fucked up? I mean, really I do have some crazy thoughts sometimes. Of course, I don't act on them, but they still came from me. Don't you ever wonder what crazy shit other people think about, but don't act on. Ever wonder how many times someone has plotted your death, or torture, or rape? Mankind is just as twisted as it is straight.

I really don't like to think about it. It tends to lead me down the thought process where at the end of everything all energy is burned up and all there is is darkness, emptiness, energyless. Thoughts like that make me question why we keep up the charade. Why we carpool? Why we keep smiling at each other on the streets.

But then, we live in the now, right? That is the human condition. Memories of the past to sustain us, hopes for the future to propel us, but NOW that is where it all happens. All, being the shaken babies, and mother's coloring in their own little felt Mona Lisa, and the Sons trying to get a grasp despite the haze produced by over the counter cold medicine.

I really should get some sleep. I feel an all metaphor rant coming on, and I don't think I could live with the guilt.

2.25.03

My mother is staying with me.

I have tried for a few months to get her to stay for a weekend. I thought it would be cool to stay up late with her watching bad T.V. and just talking about things I had forgotten. (I have forgotten, a lot...I think)

She just never seemed to find time. She works in St. Louis during the week and only comes home to Iowa on the weekends, and she can't drag herself away from the homestead and drive the hour and half to my place. There are too many dishes to wash, or clothes to launder, or carpets to vacuum, or grandkids to babysit, or...you get the idea. She is a manic grandmother. The kind who steals your glass of pop and starts to wash it before you are finished.

She has been here since last Tuesday. Not at my place the whole time, though. She has been at the Hospital with my stepfather.

My 3 month old niece, Lilly, was airlifted here with severe head trauma. Her father couldn't handle her screaming, so he hugged her real tight and shook her a bit to get her to stop. She did, and hasn't cried since.

He was only alone with her for an hour and 20 minutes.

Prognosis not so good. Friday evening they got someone in to the intensive care unit to babtize her. Sarah Mclaughlin's song, "Angel," was being played on CD over and over, or maybe only once. Felt the same.

Friday they said she probably wasn't going to make it, hence the baptismal. Folks in my family don't get babtized unless it's serious.

She had two hemmorages in her brain, both in the front and back. Both arms had breaks, and a few of her ribs were broken...and couple of them were healing, from a previous 'hug.' A machine was breathing for her.

Today the machine stopped breathing, and she picked up the beat. Her eyes are open, but the Doctors don't think she is seeing much. They are saying she is probably going to be blind.

The doctors are saying a lot of things. Not many of them good. We don't neccessarily listen to all of it.

So, my Mom is staying with me. We are bonding. She smokes a lot and loves to oraganize her pills.

Mom works for a doctor so has access to a lot of "samples." Her prescription drug use is up high enough that she now has a daily pill organizer. You know, one of those plastic conatainers labeled: M,T,W,TH,F,S,S.

12 pills a day. I know this, because she made me count them. She placed them in my hand. A bunch of pastel bits. No Vicaden or Muscle Relaxers, unfortunately.

They would really help.

I guess I will just take a dose of NyQuil and get some sleep.

People are fucked up. Me included....you, too probably. A NyQuil sleep lets me forget just how fucked up people are.

Despite all that...it's nice to have mom around.


This is me. In a tree.

My New Blog-Home

I have decided to finally move my blog from Diaryland to here. My membership runs out there in a few days, and since I have depleated every little bit of savings I have, including the "change bowl." I don't have any 'excess' money to be devoting to a blog. I hate being broke. I need a job.

My first few postings here will be earlier posts from my Diaryland blog, in order to get a more linear feel. And that is quite funny, because my life feels anything but linear.

Okay, then...on with the posts.