Changes

On a warm day in February I took a step into a new life.  Another temporary parking spot for my fuzzy green bath mat to cock block my little toes from another cold floor.  My Velcro held my hand and the other end of the couch.  I struggle internally with being simple sometimes.  There is fine line between minimalist and loser. There's also a fine line between caring what people think and not giving a fuck.  I have no microwave...it's not about money... I'm just struggling with the commitment...minimalist or loser? My dvd shit the bed so Friday night we took the whipcream vodka (proof that God loves us), pork skins and a blankie to the car and piled up in the back seat to watch Fight Club in the driveway...it made me little girl giggly happy.  I like that I'm that kind of simple and that Velcro likes me for it. 

I'm really unsure of my purpose...here in the big picture.  I seem to come along into people's lives when they've lost hope of happiness.  With no effort of my own, through me they see a different way to look at the world and life.  It's not one person that makes the world a beautiful place...when your world is beautiful they are drawn into it.  The weight to keep it beautiful is never someone else's...you're the only one that has that power. 

There is no explanation beyond fate of how circumstances align and the undeniable feeling that I know I've known my guy before.  Somewhere outside of my control there was a plan hatched that we show up this time and place.  Maybe you could walk with me a while...maybe I could rest beneath your smile.  Sometimes you just know that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  And there's no better feeling in the entire world.

The question was asked...You know what we need?...and it was answered...each other. Hellaciously wonderful everydays.

Up Rooting...or Settling Down...Again

I am the master of throwing my life into boxes in a matter of minutes.  It's something that I've become good at over a life time of uprooting.  I always get...I won't call it sad...more reflective while I'm doing it.  Seeing things again for the first time and realizing that I have very little to tie me to my past...and very little to show for almost 38 years of quite interesting spinning around the sun.  Maybe I miss it all a little...then I come to grips that I am still just as free as I've ever been.  A couple of Japanese ceramic fruffy drink statues, a stolen sake carfare, some rather cool dive finds and random bar coasters are about all that I have to aide proof to some of the best years of my life. 

Today I went to the doctor for a funky cold shot in the ass and on the paperwork where these questions.
# of Pregnancies - # of Miscarriages - # of Abortions.  0 - 0 - 0.  And I thought to myself...# of Regrets. 0.  I have to be thankful for my lack of roots.  I think maybe if you just sit down and stay you get bored, run out of things to do and start breeding...I don't know.  There's some reason for it I'm sure.  Pretty glad I kept moving. 

Sometimes you think you know which way you are going and have some of the best laid plans...with me that's a big step.  Then all of the sudden there's a fork in the road to which there was no good road signage or a speed bump that slows you down...not in a bad way.  Just enough to make you realize today is really really good and you don't always have to wait for Someday.  Some of them you run over and barely notice and some you stick to like they're made of Velcro.

I caught my self singing this song out loud today...A simple man, a simple plan, the world's too big to understand... Be good and you will be lonesome.  Be lonesome and you will be free.  Live a lie and you'll live to regret it.  That's what living is to me...that's what living is to me.

Changing Channels

If I could kiss south Florida in the mouth I would.  I am way in crush love with her and fresh off of my mini vacation high.  I flew to Fort Lauderdale and stayed in Hollywood at Hollywood Beach Hostel & Hotel.  Barely in the airport before I had to start making mental post its.  Apparently knee high boots are all the rage but no so comfy...I saw several people walking around with them unzipped and dragging around behind them??  There was also a dude that was wearing the widest variety of shades of rust I've seen this side of the Martha Steward paint wall at Home Depot.  I pasted a very busty flight attendant sans bra that nearly made me wreck my wheely luggage...only to realize that I noticed it and most men weren't...wrong, wrong, wrong boys....Sure there was a plane full of happy guys somewhere.

My goals for the trip were to remain somewhat sober...check.  And to stay away from realtors...um, not so much of a check.  I didn't even get checked in before I was wearin' the GPS out trying to find my next fuzzy green bath mat locale.  The first night I walked the boardwalk, which was about a half block away from my room.  I guess my 15 mile radius on life has me really slowed way down but at the same time so so aware of life when I see it.  Maybe all those folks don't see how alive it all is, but from the sidelines it was awesome to watch.  There is a little outdoor theater on the boardwalk where about 4 Forest Gump look-a-likes were singing reggae.  I'm talking the "I just felt like running" Forest with the trucker hat.  Up ahead there was a fire truck on the sidewalk.  I figured something had gone down but had to walk that way anyhow.  When I get there I find a bunch of hot guys in kilts with drums and bag pipes.  A benefit called Guards, Hoses & Guns...pretty much they would crank up the lights and pull to the next bar with a little procession of drinkers and kilt oglers like myself.  Blow some pipes, beats some drums, add to the drunken followers and head to the next bar.  They even had what I figured to be the firehouse hooker in tow.  I stuck in for a stop of then headed on. 

When I move there I've got to get some roller blades.  Then I'm gonna join the late night roller derby girls...saw them all decked with lace stockings and bad ass girl t shirts.  I'd probably accidentally trip the bitch in charge and carry me the ass whippin of my life ...worth considering though.  Day 2 I saw more people working out than I've seen collectively in the last year here in 15 mile radius land.  The stakes are high for getting attention.  A strange bald dude in too short of shorts (btw does everybody have them altered to the awkward lenght stage or what?) shoulder pressing dumbbells on the boardwalk.  A chick in bouncy shoes that I must have.  And several arm flingers...If I had to guess I'm saying for cardio purposes or possibly a weird form of tourettes. 
Downtown is a full story in itself.  I'd call it Drag Queens, Belly dancers and Boa Constrictors



Could have been a python...tomato...tomahto. All I know is it was a big fucking snake. I head on'ed my fear. High five to me.  Not as crazy or carnival like as it sounds...just alive.  Somewhere where I can pull off my wallpaper impersonation and just watch.  Not so much can grab attention with all that going on. 

Ran into a guy barbecuing at the hotel.  It was probably about the only "hostel" experience of the trip.  He had plenty and I traded him a beer for a couple of kabobs.  I hate to admit that I'd already forgotten his name by the time I'd taken my first bite, but it should have Bobby Flay or something.  Oh My God.  He had marinated bacon in maple syrup, then stuffed chicken with cream cheese and wrapped it up, skewered and grilled it.  I showed MAJOR restraint by not humping the grill or mugging him for the rest of the plate. 

It sounds like I ate nonstop but I really didn't...just spaced it out and skipped the bullshit.  I found a little locals hang out called Toucans that had Drunken Clams at happy hour. Pretty sure they were the best clams of my life and that I had them 3 days in a row.  Recognized it as a local place because it was the only place I'd seen any straight men.  You can tell them right off because they are the drunk bad dressers with beer guts...pretty easy to spot.  Also all the straight men had a chick attached to them and hanging on like grim death...not a lot to go around as I saw.  When I'm away I always try to figure out who's the local version of the local morons from here.  I found their version of Mr Coors Light except this one mixed in a little pass out at the bar to the recipe.  Leaving after clams I round the corner to Jupiter Man.  He had  a telescope set up on a table outside the bar.  I asked what he was doin' and he answered setting up to look Jupiter and see if he could see any of its moons.  So I'm like hurry up I want to see.  I must have befuzzled him cause he got all nervous and took forever...offering that he'd been drinking and smoked a joint.  Now Jupiter Man was easily mid 60's...at what point to people stop smokin weed?  He finally got it together and I got to see the moon, which was very cool, and Jupiter with two of its moons.  It was worth sticking around and hearing most of his life's story. 

Saturday morning on the beach I pass by about 30 yoga-ers doing ass mountain...not sure what its really called but it was funny as hell.  I couldn't bring myself to take a picture.

I had my first $15 screwdriver, saw a spandex clad hoveround driver and considered an investment in Rosetta Stone. That was until I was lying on the beach listening to the chatter of foreign voices when I hear over everything "I smoked for 38 years" and thought to myself..if that was in French it would have been beautiful.  Fuck Rosetta Stone...I change my mind, not knowing is better.

There was a hot chick smacking a volleyball around with what could only have been her 80 yr old grandmother...in a bikini...yummy.  A line dance of about 100 people dancing on the boardwalk to something like polka music with a cowboy hatted Hispanic man singing.  A burger the size of my head in a place called Le Tubs that felt more like Key West.  Myers Rum floaters on pinacoladas.  A cat that chased a volleyball down the street because he could.  And a black man singing that I seriously think was reading my mind...everything I thought of he sang next up...kinda freaky.  He did also have a drunk local jump up on stage for some bad karaoke that involved the gangsta dick grab. 

What I want to know is how can you not love a place like this??  I'd forgotten how much I missed my freckles until they popped out to wave at the sun and how I like the taste of salt from the ocean on my lips.

What I don't get is the mass population of those Amish looking odd Jew cats??  And airplane farting...I mean really.

Since I've been home...I took a "bubble bath" in Fur So Fine doggie shampoo cause I was out of the real bubble bath and watered my plants with my coffee pot.  In my defense the doggie shampoo was the oatmeal aloe kind for dry skin.  I am the most unpretentious person that I know.  So I'm planning my most inevitable exit stage south...I think I'll fit in just fine down there.


 


Hollywood Hostel & Hotel





Me cheesin' it up at Le Tubs



The burger that was the size of my head...here only half a head.

More Le Tubs...see doesn't this look like Key West to you?

My room

Your guess is as good as mine.





The boardwalk runs along the beach for about 2-3 miles. 





Hollywood Beach

2011... Here I Come

2010 I guess looking back was about freeing myself.  I sold my safety net which was my house in the spring.  I never knew how much the back of my little head was holding on to the safety of it until it was gone.  I purged and let go of a ton of my possessions when we officially consolidated houses.  Up until then I was more of a visitor so far as my "stuff" was concerned.  My house just looked like I was maybe on extended vacation...all that was missing was my clothes.  Now that I'm squatting at the parental units beach place I have even less on the stuff scale.  I have very little and I want for even less.  I was getting a hard time at work the other week that I don't like things.  I said that I like plenty and it was requested that I name a few.  So for those of you that wonder what I like and what trips my little trigger here ya go.

Black and white pictures... I like the distance it creates from the distracting reality of color.

Wind chimes.

The beach...mid summer lying in a tidal pool or bundled up with not another soul in sight.

Daffodils...they make me giddy... I know the bull shit of winter is over.

The Wizard of Oz...play or the movie.  I can pin this one on my daddy.

Dogs and cats... Dogs more so than cats...being that my everyday life partner is one Mr Roger Dog.

Coffee

Anticipation.  It can be the greatest fear or the greatest turn on. 

Laughing out loud...when your by yourself or when someone says something surprisingly funny. I love surprisingly funny people.  I'm more the say what everyone is thinking girl on my own time.

A squishy mattress...my mattress from Nanner is by far the best hand me down of my life!!

Music and singing in the car to Roger.  I love shopping Itunes with a buzz...I come up with the greatest random shit.

Body boarding and playing like kid in the ocean.

Kisses...

Independent films and odd documentaries.

Living room dancing...by myself to my great random shit from buzzed music shopping.

Writing.  Getting things out of my head and onto paper is better therapy than money could ever buy.

Scuppernong wine.  I know...redneck.

Not being a grown up.  Regardless of the age of my human suit I take great pride in not taking the world seriously.

I've been trying to come up with some outlook for 2011...it hit me on the dog walk this morning.  I'm going to Live in the Moment...No Regrets...No Worries.  I'm sure that I will appear reckless to the outside viewer on occasion...consider this a warning.  Unlike some people I know that never have a thought that doesn't cross their lips...I'm much more internal.  There's an amazing amount of shit that bangs around in my head and never breaks the verbal seal.  I'm going to base decisions on Intuition and not analyze shit to death.  To borrow a song line from my most recent drunken Itunes venture.  I'm learning that life is just a leap of faith...You've got to spread your arms...hold your breath...and always trust your cape.

New Years morning I was standing at the kitchen counter eating lobster for breakfast.  I had white chocolate for dessert.  I said out loud to the dog "Fuck tradition...this is awesome".

Ranting, Gay Neighbors and Kitchen Creations

Why is all shit so hard?  I just got off the phone with a new dentist office. First off, I should explain why I'm on the prowl for a new dentist.  For sake of not getting myself into a slander law suit we'll let this cat remain nameless.  My first trip to see him I schedule because he's the only one that doesn't require xrays for a damn cleaning (but there is no free lunch). At the end of said cleaning he comes in, introduces himself, starts poking around in there, says something about nice teeth.  Then he asks if they are real...Um...you're the dentist...shouldn't you know??  He then proceeds to EYEBALL about 5 places that need filling...but "they are small so we won't even need Novocaine".  WTF.  I did a filling replacement one time without Novocaine.  I'm one tough chicky but trust me I used that as a learning experience and ain't gonna do it again.  I make a mental post it to find new dentist.  Luckily when I check out the computers are down and the tech guy is there trying to remove the porn, so I just say I'll call back for my appointment to fill the zillion cavities sans Novocaine.  Fast forward about 9 months cause who are we kidding I don't have dental insurance and every 6 months is just crazy talk.  I call around to get an appointment somewhere else only to be beat down by a self overrated receptionist.  Apparently the other option dentist won't even make you an appointment unless you agree to the xrays beforehand. 

F my life people!  I just want my teeth cleaned!!  So I'm back to the "are your teeth real guy"...again.  Fast forward to today.  Trying to set up the appointment somewhere new...yet again.  March is the soonest they can work me in.  So I book it, explain that I do not have insurance and ask how much money to bring. 275 fucking dollars.  Yo, I didn't ask when your car payment was due.  All you dentists stop poking me in the ass with your big dental dildo....I SAID I DON'T HAVE INSURANCE!! I don't want anything for free...just some nice lady to scrape the little shit off my teeth.  Not to mention if your next available appointment is in F-ing March I think you're already making bank off the insurees and you could cut me a break and skip the goddamn xrays!! I feel better now.  Giving up...gonna stick with the"are those real" guy.

Story from the trailerhood.  The stoner neighbors (pot smoking ones, not to be confused with the crackhead)have the most annoying dog ever. And you know me...I love, love, love animals but Sparky is wearing me out.  We have Sparky, Spot and Shorty...all within a block radius and all apparently with unimaginative parents.  Sparky though is gay.  Not gay like hey its my preference and I decorate and dress nicely, but like GAY all up in your face.  Poor Roger can't even step out the front door, walk or potty in peace.  This guy is all over him..trying to hump him and give head.  The head portion of the show has my dog WAY confused.  He's on the leash, I'm yelling "Just keep walking or bite the fucker!"  and he's looking at me like "I know its wrong but it feels good mom" all the while still  trying to walk.  Which I'm sure is difficult at best...I mean I can only imagine...I've never exactly tried to walk while getting head but I would guess its tough.  We finally loose him when Roger finally breaks away to pee, narrowly missing his head...we leave him licking the puddle.  Years of therapy ain't gonna help this dog...he's jacked up.

Finally...onto my rockin' culinary skills.  Last week, out of sheer necessity, I discovered a new lunch time treat.  My creativity flowed mainly because I was down to a pack of ramen noodles, one can of beef-a-roni, tuna and gatorade.  This is no exaggeration, trust  me.  It's not that I'm poor, it's just that  I possess the meal planning skills of the average everyday buzzard with ADD or possibly a drug addiction.  So I open the tuna, dump it in a bowl with some ranch dressing, shredded cheese and hot sauce. Even with no real groceries I still have a corner market on condiments.  Throw it in the microwave and eat it with some tostidos.  OMG I AM GENIUS!!  It's a Tuna Miracle Charlie Brown!!  Needless to say I went to the store for more tuna and have had it 3 more times since then. 
Watch out Martha Stewart...I'm hot on your tail chickadee.

Finally

This is attempt #3 of getting my angry Grinch thoughts on paper.  My first two sounded like whiny my pussy's broke melodramatics...and you know how I feel about that.  My realization came yesterday on the drive to work.  It's not the first time this week that I've said this, but its the first time I realized it also applies to me and my fa-la-la-la-la funk.  If you don't like something there are only 2 things you can do.  Either change your situation or change your mind.  I think it goes without saying that I can not change the situation of virginal birth nor the widespread two thousand some years of acceptance and the resulting over spending and hall decking and reindeers.  I have no other choice than to change my mind.  That does not mean that I'll be rushing out to hunt down the perfect million foot tall tree or load a shopping cart full of dust collectors for my great aunt so and so, my mail lady or my gynecologist.  Just that I am letting go of expectations.  Expectations of feelings...the same feelings that have always plagued this time of year for me.  I'm not going to rehash memories of past...I'm not going to try to avoid or ignore.  Just taking my hands off the wheel.

Oooh Oooh Blame Me...Blame Me

I for one and, almost exclusively, only do not have a single thing that causes me to point an accusing finger and shout "THIS IS FUCKED UP AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!"  I am fully aware that although I seldom feel like it, I am an adult and I all by my wee little self create my life...the good and the questionable of it.  I am responsible...for Me.  That's unfortunately the extent of my magical super powers. 

It's been brought to my attention via email from Mr X that Mr Man's Ms X is on yet another tear.  This one as with all the others has one center of all gravitational pull.  Me.  What I'm sick of is sheep minded people crying over spilled milk, skunt knees and questionable relationships.   Shut up, stand up and everybody take responsibility for your own lives and your own choices.  The Heather has nothing to do with any of it.  I suppose it helps people feel better to be able to devoid themselves of any cause of the effect.  And maybe not looking in the mirror is therapeutic but you run the risk of walking out with you skirt tucked into your undies...and you wind up showing your ass.  I only wish I were as powerful and influencingly hypnotic as people claim that I am.  I feel sandwiched somewhere between being grateful that I'm not an idiot and are more enlightened than most and just wanting to swift kick the world in the f-ing nuts.