Why is it I can't write when something else is occupying my thoughts?!? It has been a very frustrating two days when it comes to blogging, I don't know how may times i've logged on only to stare at the void white space underneath the New Post kiask. And it's not that i'm avoiding writting about this pre-occuppation, I would if I could piece my own thoughts about it togather, but I can't...it's too much and not enough. And now i've run out of the allotted time to do this; to tell tall tales about Sushi Houses and the Euless Police, or to spill the container filled with thoughts concerning the Process and Politics, the re-aquaintance, to that which transcends my self-absorbation.

Elsewhere: Don't cross Rob Gordon.

FROM THE DELETED FILES: The Beautiful Dichotomy, I call Me.

It's in every judgment i've made, each sentence that has escaped my grasp, that vast canyon that lies in between these lines; the parody, the enigma, the point from a to b and b and c and c to d and d to e, until the z, and while there, at it's assumed end, it ascends in perfect invisibility and tranquility. I wonder (which according to Socrates signifies my aspiration; the momentum, to wisdom) at, today, Purpose: not just the perception but the path, not merely the idea but the actualization. I wonder and debate the dangers of fusion. To trust in good without hoping for good. To be considered compassionate while declaring conservative. To hold sweaty hands with idealism while kissing the mask of reality. To gladly stumble along while desperately learning to run.

Taking it for what it's worth. It's worth: always discovering, unearthing, becoming, understanding, learning, balancing, honing in, drawing near but never to, arriving.

I think.

I think that's the foundation of my Dichotomy: The neurotic avoidance of assuming blindly and the fear to completely commit to one train of thought. Kinda.

Absolutes, Absolutes, Absolutes. Those I struggle in perspiration trying to do more than believe, but to, live.

Humph and to think this post was going to be about the ungodly cost of those double espresso Starbucks shots you can buy at the gas station and grocery stores. $2.48!!!!

Things Like These Keep Me Warm:

Breakfast at Tiffanys
kisses on my back
catching snow flakes on my tongue
swinging jazz
happy endings
Cherry Coke
autumn leaves
the way my sister dances
sleeping with a million pillows
the way my parents love one another
Aveda hair products
Austin
having pictures of me randomily hung in Good Records
Sunday brunches at Terrillis
Kadinsky
phone calls from Tokoyo

Still Not Bothered but Supo Bummed:

I get these emails from friends, in them they write of being exasperated and over whelmed and stressed, things I try at all costs to avoid and strongly advise against, I reply to them with encouragement, I write things like,

"Just remember to place one foot in front of the other at a time, take one breathe in and two breathes out, dance and sing, open the open windows when it rains and wish upon every shooting star you see".

My mantra has always been the Laisse Faire motto: what will be is what will be, or something of that sort and so what will be, be, but sometime the be kinda sucks and the rain makes your hair look all frizzy.

It goes beyond being foiled today, right to, being screwed which bums me out. Every step forward I try to take i'm pushed back a few. I keep waiting for that place on the board that reads, SKIP TO THE FINISH LINE but instead I keep landing on the backwards slide. Er...it's been awhile since I played Candy Land, obviously. Scratch that allegory.

$920.40. That's the new total. From $110 to that. The brakes need worked on, the timing belt is loose, the REO or something needs to be replaced, I need a tune up, I need this and this and that and that before it will pass inspection. Ugh I knew I should have just packed up and moved to Portland...but then I wouldn't be learning this lesson. Right. Sure. Ok. Yeah. One foot in front of the other. Here we Go.

CRASH.

Foiled!!!

It's one of those great words that just rolls off my tongue so fantastically i'm guilty as charged to it's constant abuse but today the Gods of Great Words afforded me chance after chance to rightly exclaim my weakness in it's splendor and validity with honest pride. For example, earlier this evening I was to be at Los Lupes or Sols with a pleasant young man hoping, to be attempting an ungodly consumpation of chips and salsa; margaritas and Negro Modelo but instead i'm sitting here at the computer all dolled up in a pair of heart deco pajama pants, a very fashionable lavender tank top that Belle Ella left during her visit, with my hair pulled up into a high messy pony tail babysitting my niece and nephew so that my older sister and her husband could go out and do a little beverage induced relaxation of their own.

Plans for fun, foiled by kindness!!!

The DMA is having their annual Insomnia Weekend and I wish I could be there around 3am tonight discovering neu art, listening to the dj spinning his rhythem es fisasco, but I haven't been able to think of any possible friends who would be or could be up for the adventure.

Plans for mayhem, foiled by distance and pop culture!!!

Then earlier in the day, I had set before me the goal to get my car inspected, in order that I may also get it registered, in order that there be no reason for a police officer to want to pull me over, in order that every damn penny I make would no longer be directly given to them but the mechanic when checking to see my mileage informed that since my engine light was on i'd have to run a diagnostic check first and that was an extra $65 but since I only had enough for the inspection($45) I took a rain check.

Plans for productivity, foiled by Just For Brakes circa July 2003!!!

All the foiling doesn't bother me...as long as I can refer to such situations as FOILED.

;) and Elsewhere

Refreshing and Encouraging: Megan.

About a Jon:

Unlike most people, when Jon and I sit down to have a "talk", things somehow end up more complicated and confusing than they were prior to the "talk". And that's where I am today, the day after, a "talk", confused and over-whelmed with a feeling of things being too complicated. I have that regretable feeling I should have left right after Seabiscuit instead of laying on his bed at 2something in the morning congratulating him on avoiding the "talk" I had gone over there to have. The companionship was great, his dog always a hoot, and the movie heartwarming; it was enough to leave with satisfaction and happily re-visit in a week or so but after an email like the one I had sent him Sunday night, how could that be?!? I was hoping he would tell me to be patient, that even though things are f'ed up right now, he can't shake the feeling that loosing me would be the worse thing imaginable, and that he treasured my devoution and cherishes every memory made with me. At which point I was hoping to tell him; he is worth the gamble and off course i'd be patient but I just need to be given a little confidence from time to time, that I was sorry for not putting my money where my mouth is and not only not allowing but provoking my lips to snuggle down to his belly button lavishing it with soft kisses and then to the inside of his arms and his neck and the part of his temple were the hair curls around his ear; that this would be a great time for us to build a true friendship because i'm not ready to be in a relationship with him for variuos reasons but that I just can't imagine dismissing him either; and that off course I treasured and cherished him too. But after my remark as to his cunning avoidance skills, the avalanche began to tumble and with each spin it gained more speed and sparatic debris. A hour and a half later I was in my car: cold, the gas tank light flashing a bright orange E, the BBC drowning the noise of 60mph wind hitting the crack in my window caused by old cigarette butts placed there until proper disposal could be made, and my thoughts; tossing and tumbling, re-evaluting and analyzing, is there more to what he's letting him see and believe or am I just not wanting to let go?!? I can't get over the loop holes, those things that make you doubt if someone is being honest with you before they've been honest with themselves and why would someone not be honest with themselves unless maybe it meant that would entail them having to allow themselves to be vulnerable again, to put hope in something and take that chance for it to end like all the other ones did, to feel like a disappointment, or to have an excuse for motivation. Sadly, i've been incredibly self absorbed lately, i've forgotten to make It about others and not about myself, last night that hit me-this isn't meant to be about me but about the Boy and I have to lay down my expectations and hopes inexchange for what he needs....., regardless. There is a reason that Jon is still in my life, and until that reason reaches it's season i'll be happy to lend my heart, my prayers and Thursday nights for his dispose.

Selective Responsability:

"Sweetheart, I swear if your head wasn't screwed on, you'd loose that too."

Thanks Daddy.

I've been avoiding you.

Dodging your url when hoping to hop straight over to www.friendster.com, i'm addicted but thankfully the addiction goes in spurts; the finding and discovering, the thrills of adding a testimonal everyone will chuckle, "damn that missie is one witty cookie", the endless connections and distant relations-it's all so alluring. Plus not to mention, I have just way too much on my mind and I won't allow a blog with it's name stolen from a Verve song to be my mental trash can. I need some new material for the Therapist anyways. And time. Time, time, time, she's a little bitch; over possesive and talk about control issues, shiiittttt.

But look i'm here. I'm squeezing each muscle in my fingers to do this. I'm sacrificing the time I rather spend cuddled up on my bed with An Essay Concerning Human Understanding and Longwave playing in the background to sit here in the office and be miserable. Now tell me that's not true bloggggluuvvvv. I need an outlet and this isn't cutting it. I need my paints and my brushes and a canvas. I need a camera and a roll of black and white fuji film, the type when developed comes out all grainy. I can't write right now. Making words to make these sentences is like pulling gum from the bottom of your shoe. Ugh. But I need to create: something beautiful, something sad, something with raw emoutions dripping from it's edges, something I can keep and something I can give.

But these thoughts are too many and too disorganized for a cognitive state of mind required in documentation.

Bare with me, vuhrog. Tall tales from Baja Fresh coming soon.

"For even if we have the sensation of being always enveloped in, surrounded by our own soul, still it does not seem a fixed and immovable prison; rather do we seem to be borne away with it, and perpetually struggling to transcend it, to break out into the world, with a perpetual discouragement as we hear endlessly all around us that unvarying sound which is not an echo from without, but the resonance of a vibration from within. We try to discover in things, which become precious to us on that account , the reflection of what our soul has projected on to them; we are disillusioned when we find that they are in reality devoid of the charm which they owned, in our minds, to the association of certain things; sometimes we mobilise all our spiritual forces in a glittering array in order to bring our influence to bear on other human beings who, we never reach them."
Marcel Proust: Rememberance of Things Past

Thanks for the Distraction and Octopus:

In moonsoons it pours, breaking waves and tidal waves, heavy rains; sheets of falling rivers and rapid rivers infitrating the lipidity of current with red and blue, pink and purple, and me: clinging to feeble branches over the rushing ruins but only for how long I can't but help to wonder. Laws of nature suggest with every low there is an equally high, we are dictated with Balances and these Balances in return create harmony.

Last night I must have drank the shit out of Harmony: a bottle of wine, a few Japanese beers, a red bull and vodka, and an apple martini for this morning when I awoke I didn't remember that my car was still in the impound without any way of retrieving it, I didn't remember the things my sister said to me, I didn't remember how my family has thrown in the towel with me, I didn't remember this and I didn't remember that; instead I was warm, and even with the nights before manifestation being not altogather wise or time appropiate, it was nice to hold it; to feel accepted and wanted in the immediate memory of it's embrace, to be relaxed and still full from endless trays of sushi.

"where do we go from here?"...anywhere.

Untitled:

There is a scene in the movie Big Fish were the main character after years of working for the circus (in order to find out enough information about a girl he had only seen once), at last has recieved enough clues to finally find her. He believes with all his heart she is the One, his true love, his Destiny but when he spills the contents of his heart to her she sadly informs him, she is engaged. She then closes the door and as he walks away he throws his intended gift of flowers on the ground in utter defeat and heartbreak but then he stops and says something, I unfortunately can't remember it word for word, but to the effect: that one must know when the cards have been dealt and when to perserver. He perservers and he succeds with winning the heart of his true love. This confidence is something I wonder if I will ever get right. I'm so scared to be caught as a coward but even more afraid to be caught as a fool. When do you know to raise the white flag and when do you know to keep pushing, keep hoping, keep the Dream alive?!? What's from God and what have we made from God?!? Off course I could, theologically answere my own hypothetics, but the knowledge is of no benefit without it's revelation, and what defines what that revelation should be?!? About the age of 16, I knew I was to go to Romania and work with orphanges, I didn't know when and I didn't how and I didn't even know for how long but I knew I had to; it was something God laid on my heart so heavy I couldn't get myself around it, the desire and burden almost literally burned within me. By the age of 21 I had yet to have gone, I decided that maybe the burden was meant to encourage and inspire me to intercess for the situation there. I thought maybe it was just an emoutional rush I confused to be something of Supernatural granted Purpose. I thought maybe it wasn't God's timing and it wouldn't be till I was old and grey. All in all, I pretty much gave up without totally giving up and as soon as I did, a door was opened and the specifics fell magically into place, giving me no opition for skeptism or unbelief or fear, and hence, I, after years of hoping and dreaming, I went. But yet i've heard of stories and to an extant experienced some myself where the persons involved believed with all their heart; this or that, and that, this or that was God but when push came to shove, life gave a different ending or went the opposite direction. I just recently found out about a married couple I highly esteemed to have divorced. This blows my mind, almost as much if it had been my own parents, the both of them just incredible, warm, and caring people who loved God and always seemed to love one another. And like Belle Ella I can't comprehend how if two people truly loved and cared for one another at some point in time just one day decide they don't anymore. And that's exactly the way it is because love is also a choice you make, therefore your actions follow suit of that choice so somewhere down the line one or the other or maybe both decided not to/forget to act upon it/chose something else as the priority/jeopardized the trust/did something. There is always cause and effect, no consquence is without cause, be it good or bad. But why also two people committed in a covenant before God, would for whatever reason break it. Did they feel like fools in their marriages?!? But even as fools did they not relaize the promise they made to one another was forever no matter what?!? Maybe I do agree with Mark- maybe, "where there is a will there is a way". But how does that fit into the logic that a will does not always neccesarily produce a way in which the will, will have the desired outcome. Reality is if I willed to hover and float in my bedroom right now, I couldn't because their is no f*ckin possible way and yet if I willed to float I could, I would just have to go to space to do so. Hmmm. I do believe if you love someone Absolutely Nothing could contradict or hinder It. And if you make a covenant before God you best work that shit out or have never made it in the first place. I can't imagine being engaged. Within the past month i've had two different girlfriends do just that and part of me is always beyond being escatic for them while the other part of me is shitting in my pants for them. It's absolutely friggin incredible just the thought of knowing someone I care about has found that one person they are destined to spend the rest of their life with, but damn those are risky odds and let's face it, people aren't always the most logical when it comes to love. That's not to say you shouldn't try, just differniating trying with actually attaining. I'm not sure how my thoughts have drifted so far away from the point...this isn't about lovey dovey crap, it's about me being torn in between logic and idealism; about wondering if a Dormant Dream should be layed to rest or if I should keep the arrow pointed towards it; about trying to make sense and understand recent News i've been given.

It's too much to think about this late.( note: this was written earlier, then I ate dinner and talked with my brother in law for awhile about my Baby RAV4 and insurance situation and now at 1:50am, am just getting back to finish it)

Teny Tiny has the coolest Boy in the world. I'm still so super impressed from our post-craft shopping Pit Stop. Not only is he perfectly eccentrically nerdy but the boy can sing, play the drums, play the bass, and then he records and mixes and produces it all. But what really got me is how freakin GOOD it is. Watch out world, Pirro is going to rock Dada to the bones. Oh that's just as funny now as it was then.

Sweet Dreams.

Happy Belated Day of Ephinany

"Alls well that ends well", and so it did, or, in the process of has. It's resolution devouts me to more debt, but at least, i'll have my Baby out of the impound.

I knew God was bigger than the City of Dallas.

And illegal adwares.

Elsewhere:( because my thoughts are consumed with the anticipation of making t'shirts for Taylors show Saturday night that are just going to rawk the house) Candied Ginger launches off and Belle Ella drives to Corpus Christi.

Bombastic Bad Luck:

I'm beginning to wonder; to slip my toes over into the Land of Paronia, checking rear view mirrors, throwing salt over my shoulder, packing holy water in my purse, and nervously rubbing a white rabbits tail when i'm not too occupied with knocking on wood. Something is got to give. WTF is going on?!? It's a flippin new year for Pete's sake and yet while enjoying stories of the night before adventures I missed out and the best dern pancakes in the metroplex, my poor little RAV4 was towed right from underneath my nose. It's damn Dallas I swear. This city has it out for me. Voodoo?!? I dunno...something though, seriously. And if I could attest this streak of bad luck to a 'case of scatter brain' or 'parking regulation oblivion', then maybe then, this wouldn't seem so fishy but unless it's super late at night i'm usually 'scatter brain' free and, shah, i'm way too anal to even jeopardize not having at least 3hours worth of quarters in the parking meter for an thirty minuet stop. And if it had been the first time my car had been towed from down there it wouldn't shake me in the least but it wasn't. Let me see...towed twice, boot once, broken into once, and um probably about(seriously) fifteen parking tickets, in which maybe 5 are legit and maybe 7 have been paid for.

Up until a doctor visit ago I never thought I carried stress and maybe my percieved apathetical disposition thus far has only intensified the complication-nasty introversion that has somehow just shifted my insides: a hormonal imbalance, or, so the Doc says. I feel it now, now that I know to look for it, it's twisting inside of me as I write...rambling about the impossablities and complications and deeping of the hole I sit inside that this new dilema entails/ensues. Twisting tighter. But i'm smiling and it's 75% sincere. Joy should not be derived from our circumstances but from His promise to us and His love for us, for me it's just finding the Faith to trust He will help me find the resolution to all these dilemas i'm buried underneath. And making it to yoga class tonight. Breathing in and releasing out; finding the balance to this day in the downward facing dog and after i've sweated my hair into curliness, a cupple of Shiner Bochs at Ships tonight for it's ending.

And That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles:

Sundays are becoming once again, my favorite day of the week. I went to church. Went out to eat. Went shopping. Saw Big Fish and then came home but damn-it-to-golly there wasn't a moment of down time and anyways too much to do before both Destiny and Tiffani leave for Cypress this weekend to allow it, let alone, want it. I'm so picky at whom I'll let myself attach to-there has to be a connection, there has to be a sense of mutual respect, there has to be laughter, and there has to be trust. Willingly with years of proof already established, I attached. This is no pity party, merely reflection of a common occurance, that seems to be too common for comfort but maybe that's part of His master plan, who knows. I know I enjoy these Sundays while there here still. I enjoy the peace of knowing they're within a short ride still. I feel ridicolous to feel this way because I know I have a ton of people who would be so willing to be such a friend to me BUT REALLY it's not the same. Friendships are something I do not take lightly-I invest and I love so sincerly, it's eternal, too eternal and intense to be careless with.

"Take each day as it comes", it's the line I preach but hardly ever remind myself enough of, it really is the only way to live and so with that in mind: today I took it and it was Great.

Belle Ella got her pictures from the trip developed, hopefully tomorrow i'll get to posting some on here, their hillarious. I had a great laugh looking at them during the previews while Thadius on the other hand pretended to pay attention to them. He is a cutie. Furkin jail bait. Damnit.

And the movie was a classic. Probably the best flick i've seen since...I dunno when. Just good clean entertainment. Just Tim Burton brillance relishing all over the screen and shooting straight into my heart.

I cherish it All.

From the Journal: Not Nocturnal

It's a re-action to development, my unique personality: an early riser by nature, inclined to investment, moreso, willingness-dependence upon purpose and purpose derived from that which is; meaningful, long lasting, and beneficial yet while remaining vibrant and adventerous; grammatically a doof, sure, I roll with the punches unless of course the punches have me knocked out. Each day, each sunrise, each sunset, each and every moment in the middle eluding to the grand entrance of darkness upon the horizon-the view from here, the view from there was the view of the Year. High above the city of lights, sipping a glass of merlot on a bed of pillows under the open heavens surrounded by friends, some new and others lifelong, is just too precious to violate both the occasion and it's duration with drunken stupor.

Perhaps the result of me needing, exasperated beyond pretending, is a dire sensation for something tangible, something I can sink my teeth into, something I can take...enough has been assumed to be wasted and i'll be the second to disagree. It wasn't. You weren't. The ending was unfortunate but the beginning, it sticks in the most fashionable sense as, something I look back on, ahh retrospect, and discover an over-whelming heart of gratitude for your place that crossed my path. You changed me. And I try to forget the months that lay behind us, those will never not hurt, somethings are irrevocable and what you let happen....lingering, establishing this course of action, in each thought I try to forget. But i'm moving. With Speed. Not missing. But every now and again.

I hate to disappoint, to conflict, to be the one too tired and too hungry, without money or a bed, to advocate leaving the bar( for chrissakes Sky Bar) when everyone else is hooting and hollaring it up, but I was and indeed I did and had it not been for the understanding and huggledidodas Belle Ella freely offered, well, Yikes. I know next road trip oppurtunity I won't even bother unless my pockets are loaded. It really was a constant source of turmoil and tension, i'm just not use to being dependent on others and yet I had no other opition but to be. It was frustrating, being frustrated, being not in control and having no room or means to breathe, or, to find relief.

From the Journal: Tuscan to El Paso

A car full of slumber, incessous in movement; residue of mountains penetrating the landscape and the soundtrack: impecible, beautiful, sometimes as soft as a whisper, often and usually, roaring, screaming-wind invading, memories in the making. That's what road trips are. Destination, irralevent. It's here then it's gone, and what will have been taken, too numerous to bgein, I hope, to reflect upon; the journey, inescapable refernces I discover, let be realised, give forgotten reasons due exaltations. Outside my window a wind glidder soars the open sky, descending to the ground, how relevant the co-existence, how unfortunate his descention is inevitable and his soaring, momentarily lived. That's what experiences are: endings with beginnings, it's contigents the substance, it's lessons the composition, it's memoirs the foundation. I'm creating. I'm remembering. I'm drawing my hopes and dreams in the silver lining of clouds, throwing rainbows into a wishing well, and tossing invisible kisses to shooting stars in the silent night. I'm stopping. There is a sign, it reads, "Pecans, Walnuts, and Wine, exit now".

This Just In, on the slowest computer ever.

If I should do this now, or wait till later, because i'm just waiting for Mark and EC to get back from their expedition to Baja Fresh here in fab LA. Yes I love it here. I love all the the things I should hate and despise and be apalleed by, but no, I love it ALL and I intend to blog about it ALL but not now. Now=Movement. I'm coming into the Season of the Old Me, it's a song, and around 11:55 last night I was sipping champagne and twirling to the lyrics, the noise, the energy, the mantra of 2004; and it too, I was loving. I should be going.

Tony P., I saw you on Hollywood Blvd. Crazy LA.