The Daily Minute

Cinco Preguntas

2009-01-31T09:45:00.002-06:00

So this really super awesome guy over at The Tome of Communism tagged me with a little 5 question meme, and here I am to answer. If y'all want to participate, just drop a request in comments and I'll get your questions in the ether pronto.

Grab your ankles and lets get this thing started.

1. Have you ever/would you want to have sex in the snow?

I have not, but I would so long as I didn't have to be on bottom. No one needs to see that kind of snow angel off my ass.

2. If you could share a house with one character from Pulp Fiction, who would it be and why?

No brainer - Mr. Marsellus Wallace - his house was amazing. And really, the options are limited. I make it a rule in life to not live with contract killers, dope peddlers, burned out boxers, or junkies.

3. It's 1957, and you have a choice to make: do you shoot John Lennon or Elvis Presley? You have to kill one of them, which will it be?

Considering that one of my "signs from above" to purchase my beautiful Cleopatra Jones was an Elvis song on the radio during the test drive, my choice is easy. I'd bust a cap in that pansy assed, Yoko loving, British warbler. Elvis is the only mother fucking option.

4. What is the sexiest part of a man? A woman?

The Mens: Ok, physically - I love a man with good legs. I like big thighs with good muscles and calves that match. Not those calves that look like snakes that swallowed a grapefruit, but the balanced ones. That shit right there is hot. I like good arms too. Some definition in the shoulders is nice. I love how strong men's arms can be. Mentally - confidence is smokin. Mind you I do not mean arrogance. Arrogance is loud and stupid, confidence is quiet and sexy. Confidence doesn't need to broadcast itself, it's an undercurrent.

The Womens: Physically - general shape. I can't bear stick figure females. I want to see some lusciousness and curves and softness. I cannot stand giraffe shaped coat hangers. I like Sarah Ramierez a lot. Mentally - I like a woman with attitude and spirit. A great sense of adventure and daring are important.

5. How drunk would you have to be/how much money would it cost for you to go streaking at the White House while on an official tour?

Sweet baby jesus... There is no amount of booze to make me do that. And the money? Upward of 10 million, plus the freedom afterward to enjoy it.

Snow January 2009

2009-01-25T18:41:00.009-06:00

Last weekend there was a pretty big snow storm and everything around here has been covered in soft, fluffy flakes ever since. These shots were taken today, a week after the storm. A week of temperatures with a high of 24 has preserved everything pretty well.

So today I drove around for a little while and stopped at this little park that's about half way between my house and the office and pulled out the Cybershot and click until the battery died. It was clear and beautiful today, so I thought the light would be decent and I really needed to get out of the house.

The snow crunched as I walked around and there were a few moments when I could hear the river rushing below. When my battery finally died I took a seat at the top of the sledding hill and watched these little kids go flying down it at break-neck speed. You could hear the shrieks and laughter as they cut loose.

Hope y'all had a good day.

Putney Chapel

Boothe Park Sledding Hill

Housatonic River

Boothe Park Sheep

Boothe Park Field

Boothe Park Clock Tower

I Forgot

2009-01-17T13:32:00.002-06:00

I've been angry since Thursday. Sounds, light, traffic, snow, wind, warm, sun, everything felt like I was being pricked with pins and needles. I have bitched about every single thing in the world to my dear friend Hitch. And Friday morning we were standing outside while she smoked and I looked at her and said that I knew how unbearable I had been, but I just couldn't figure out why I was so mad. I tried to think and she asked about different things trying to help me - which of course made me angry as well. Finally I looked at her and said I just didn't know, but that I had to figure it out.

We went back upstairs and started back in on our work. At 11:53 I looked at my calendar and it hit me, like the proverbial ton of bricks, what was wrong.

Friday was January 16. I think everyone knows that, it was rather obvious. The significance of this day, to me, you may not know. At 10:23 am on January 16, 1989, my father died. 20 years. 20 years without him. Every single year on January 16 at 10:23 in the morning something in me clicks. Every single year I can look at the clock at that moment without prompting or reminder. That is my moment to remember all of the parts of him that I choose to remember.

I forgot. I forgot that moment of remembering yesterday. That moment passed yesterday with no thought or love or memory of my father. That moment came and went with no recognition, I forgot. I did not remember. I did not honor my father or his memory in that moment, and I cannot bear it.

Something in me isn't right. I am out of balance here and I need to fix it.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-20T12:39:00.002-06:00

Can you believe Christmas is here? I have no idea where 2008 went, but it's gone. I finally had a chance to sit down and write out my Christmas cards about 1 am Thursday morning, and I realized I didn't ask if anyone here might want one. I didn't send any out to anyone at all last year, so I'm improving. If anyone would like a card just email me your snail mail addy at poshpeasant@yahoo.com and I'll pop one in the mail. The cards are really cute this year! And don't worry, I don't have the time or energy to sign any of you up for the midget bondange and pony gear catalog, your addy is safe.

The post below this one is about charitable giving and will be open for voting until December 31. I've enjoyed seeing the issues and charities that are important to y'all (especially Claire!), it's been something of an insight and I like that. So please keep voting. Come one more day, come every single day, come three times a day, whatever you like. The current vote tally is listed below.

Habitat for Humanity 1
Doctors without Borders 3
SPCA 4
World Wildlife Fund 10
Equality Now 3
Heifer International 8
Deaf Aid 1
Humane Society 1
Comic Book Legal Defence Fund 4
V-Day 10
UCLA UniCamp 1
Poets & Writers, Inc. 2
Kalaweit 1

Give It Up

2008-11-30T07:38:00.002-06:00

So it's like 7:30-ish in the morning and I can't go back to sleep so I pull out the latest edition of Real Simple magazine. I love this thing, it's usually full of useful information. Every month they ask readers a question on how they do something and then everyone writes in with what they do in situation x. Well, this month the question was "How do you give back during the holidays?"

There were lots of good answers, but one came from a blogger - Greenstyle Mom. Her answer to the question was that she does a charity-donation giveaway on her blog. Her readers tell the charities they like, and the one mentioned the most gets a cash donation from her. Excellent idea, right?

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...

We here at the Daily Minute find this to be such an incredible idea that we are keifing it and making a little change. Because there are so many worthwhile charities that could use a shot in the arm this year I will choose the top three mentioned here and send each of them $1 for every time they receive a vote from you (up to $150 each). Some of the charities I love the most are Doctors without Borders, Habitat for Humanity, SPCA... These are only suggestions, by all means contribute your own ideas. So get to voting, tell me your charity, tell me why you love it, vote as often as you like, let's make this a huge success for the people who need some help. And if you can give this year I challenge you to do the same on your blog.

Ho ho ho, y'all.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

2008-11-23T13:07:00.003-06:00

Lady West - Jamie Scott And The Town

I'm digging this sound right now.

The drama at work boiled over a few weeks ago, and seriously, it's total bullshit.

I've always thought the phrase "thrown under the bus" was overly dramatic because a bus is a mighty big thing to get thrown under. I understand it better now. It isn't because of the size of the situation, but rather the shock of it. I mean one minute you're strolling along enjoying the pretty blue sky and buzz of life around you and then BLAM! you've been flattened.

A little history - I was given a project to head with my group about two months ago. This was one of those "miracle" projects, it's a miracle anything will get done because we are giving you jack shit to work with. So with no proper maintenance plans or blue prints and only the statement of work provided by the vendor to go by we headed into the abyss. A week into the project I've managed to piece together enough information to pass out a package to each of the writers on my team so they would have something to begin their efforts with.

Through all of the research I kept my boss, my ATR (authorized technical reviewer), and two of my team members in the loop so people would be aware of all efforts being made and all sources being used.

From day 1 there were two members of the team who bitched nonstop about being tasked for this effort. A mother and her daughter. (Can you begin to see a little conflict here?) They went on and on about how many other project they had to do and that they just didn't have time to do this. Whatever, we're all busier than a one armed paper hanger, shut it and get busy. Jefe said do it, so we do it. Did I mention that the mother is married to Jefe's baby brother? Yeah, it's like that.

So as the weeks pass I check on everyone's progress. A few have questions and I (along with my ATR) hunt down whatever answers we can find. Every time I ask the dynamic duo how it's going I hear the same answer, it's fine. Ok.

Now fast forward a couple of weeks and we get an email from Jefe saying he is cutting our deadline by about 2.5 weeks. After my stroke the team got together to discuss our joint progress and see who needed a hand wrapping up their portion so we could push it out. Did I mention how big this project is? No? It hits every single dynamic system on the aircraft. Yeah.

As we are all giving our status reports and redistributing the remainder the daughter pipes up and lets everyone know she has done nothing on her part and she isn't going to have time to finish it, this project was now at the bottom of her list and tough shit. Then she walked away. The first thing that ran through my mind was how I was going to wring her neck fro throwing the whole entire team to the dogs on this. And just as I thought it another team member said it out loud - she didn't think it was right for the daughter to do this to us and that if she knew she was this far behind she should have gotten with us to get it covered.

The daughter has gone to call Uncle Jefe and tells him she's about 80% done, her graphics are in and she's polishing her text. Clearly that is not what she just said to all of us, so she is lying, to him or to the rest of us, but lying all the same.

After we all go back to whatever we were doing the mother gets up and tells the daughter what was said by the coworker. About 15 minutes later the daughter is at the coworker's desk yelling like a fishwife about how unprofessional that was and that if she has a problem with her she should come straight to her. Did I mention that we work in one huge room with all of the writers? Not just my group, but Blackhawk - domestic and international, commercial S92... It's about 100 writers and engineers spread over the whole floor of the building... who all see the entire scene. Humiliations galore.

I've never seen such behavior in the workplace, and it's shameful. So Jefe and ATR hear about the whole thing and bright and early Monday morning ATR pulls all of the writers into a meeting to discuss what happened. All writers except for the daughter and coworker. I have no intention of saying a word. For me, what happens in the pit, stays in the pit, we deal with it ourselves - sort of like prison justice. Sadly, not everyone holds the same point of view.

People start talking and tell the exact same story. Of the 8 of us in the room 5 have spoken and all have the same story. Then the mother opens her mouth. Right about that time is when the bus bumped right over me. She said that the whole thing was my fault because I didn't do my job and keep everyone in the loop and up to date. This was when my eyes bugged out, my jaw dropped, and I started white knuckling the arms of my chair. Clearly I don't have a poker face.

I looked over at my ATR and he was looking at me, then we both looked at the mother. She had her head down and wouldn't look either of us in the eye. Then my ATR said very quietly that he knew that wasn't true because he was on every single email I'd sent - and so was she, and that I'd gone above and beyond what I should have done by providing extra reference material, blue prints and specific sections of the vendor SOW.

The mother said we were all going to believe whatever we wanted so it didn't matter anyway.

And that's when I opened my mouth. I looked only at my ATR and spoke quietly because I was boiling on the inside. I said we were all frustrated because this was an extremely complicated project and that having the deadline chopped by two weeks made it even harder and we were all running on jagged nerves. I repeated what the daughter had said to everyone about this project no longer being a priority for her and that she had walked away after that and that 15 minutes later she was yelling.

The mother started huffing and puffing like she was going to blow the house down and said I was making that up. That was when I looked her straight in the face and said that's right, I've got nothing else to do all day but make up lies about you and the daughter. And then I looked back at my ATR and said the daughter wasn't on the floor when coworker said what she said, so if she tells you she heard anything at all it isn't true, she heard it second hand.

Apparently that's the one part of the story the mother and daughter left out when they talked with Jefe, neither he nor my ATR knew that part. Hmmmmmm.

It all ended with the daughter and coworker apologizing to everyone for the display.

Anticlimactic, no?

So the project rolls out to the fleet on Tuesday and we'll be done with it. Thank god.

I'm hanging on until Christmas when I get to go home for 11 days. Can't. Wait.

Was dating a fella for a few weeks, it didn't work out. We didn't really have enough in common, and we totally didn't see the world in similar or complimentary ways. Better luck next time.

Y'all hang in there, see ya soon.

Oh and... yay Obama!!!!!! Totally awesome.

VVVOOOOOOTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-11-04T17:51:00.003-06:00

I am excited today. I am damn near giddy. I love politics and all the mud slinging, back stabbing, battle ground stumping, machismo, and bravado that go along with it. It is a viscous dirty game and generally no one comes out a winner.

I love booing at the candidates I hate and cheering for the candidates I favor. I watch poll returns on election night the way investigators watched the Zapruder film. (He did not act alone, deal with it.)

This year I love that my fellow Americans are turning out in record numbers to have their say in the beast – no matter what that say might be. People who historically have been disenfranchised by the process are coming out and casting their vote, empowering themselves and hopefully generations to come – giving them pride in action and civil service.

I have voted in 18 years’ worth of elections and I have never been so happy to cast my vote. I am, without doubt, a Democrat. Not just a Democrat, but a yellow dog Democrat. That’s me, bleeding heart liberal. (Despite my favor of the death penalty.) Even as a little girl I wept when that beautiful humanitarian from Plains, Georgia, lost his second bid for the White House. The following 12 years of trickle down BS pained me. Clinton’s election felt like a bright ray of hope to me, and proved – in my opinion – to be one.

But even my love and commitment to my beautiful Bill Clinton are not as strong as the feeling of hope that I get from Barack Obama. It feels as though he is electrifying the nation. We are galvanized into action by his passion for the future of this nation. He is not the second coming of Christ, I know that, but as we each have our own “Big Picture” I believe his “Big Picture” includes how the policies we write affect the globe and not just America; that while America is his first priority, the rest of the world is his consideration. That as technology has made the world a much smaller place, we must be mindful of the influence we have over the world economy, world peace and the price of rice in Malaysia.

The world sees what we are doing, they are affected by the outcome of this race to a strong degree. This isn’t just our future, it’s everyone’s.

“I love Americans and America and have watched in horror as you gave up freedoms you fought for for 200 years for some manufactured ‘war on terror’”. –iReporter CNN – New Zealand

This iReporter for CNN felt pity for our bad choices in the past 8 years. We have become a nation that is pitied for its stupidity. That’s not how I want to be seen in the global market place.

I have no faith in a leader who believes that neither he nor his policies are accountable to anyone. That time is coming to an end. We know that with much power comes much responsibility – but we must, WE MUST, include great accountability.

Now is the time for my great country to regain her dignity, self respect, and the respect of the nations we have supported, and have been supported by for generations.
It will be with great hope that I hear Barack Hussein Obama say, “I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

Ike - Raining Down Hate and Destruction Like A Motherfucker

2008-09-16T20:34:00.000-05:00

The rain and wind have come and gone. Flood waters from the massive storm surge have receeded. Chainsaws are making their usual appearance, their buzz can be heard throughout many neighborhoods. The loud chug of generators compete with the buzz, they blend into white noise after a while.

Electric power has not been resotred to most of the city, and in these final steamy weeks of summer, the heat is making people ill. Add to that the exponential explosion of the local mosquito population and you have a sure fire recipe for misery.

The beaches, shown above before and after Ike, where I spent many happy days - summer and winter - have been devastated. I used to date a fella a few years ago, his family had a great place on Bolivar. I have very happy memories of that place.

I sit here, 2,000 miles away, and see the devistation. Pictures of rubble where comfortable, modest summer homes used to stand. I have cousins in Galveston, Dickenson, League City, Kemah... No one has heard from them. Odds are high they evacuated, but news would be a great relief.

Johnny Cash and Martha Stewart have faired well, our homes are unscathed, our cars undamaged. Power would be welcome but that will come in the next few days. It's hard being so far away when my family is experiencing such a difficult time. I look at the pictures that are all over the internet these days and it hurts my heart to see my home in shambles and my people suffering. I want to catch a plane and go do whatever I can to help, but part of me knows my efforts would be limited and that the cost of airfare and car rental might be put to better use as a donation to the Houston Food Bank or Red Cross.

I've got deadlines crashing down on me at work, so odds are high - and getting higher - that I'll write a fat check. I also get to contribute in another way. The work I do keeps those Coast Guard rescue helicopters in the air. It also provides we the people with this particular aircraft doing a flyover of Galveston.

To those who come by here and read, please help. Below are links to a few places that are doing their best to provide relief during this terrible crisis.

The Houston Food Bank

The Houston Red Cross

The Houston SPCA

I know the SPCA may seem like an odd place to give, but pets have been left behind in the evacuation or lost. Animals might need medical care, food, and a dry place to stay until their families can come find them.

Thanks, y'all.

The Legend

2008-09-08T20:23:00.003-05:00

"If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no indifferent place." Rainer Maria Rilke

I love Rilke. He always says what is on my mind, only he has this eloquence that I can never hope to achieve. The living of my life is left to me. I am responsible for the joy, adventure, spontenaity, and bouts of wallowing in home-sick enduced sadness. I've been wallowing lately. I miss my family. More accurately, I miss being an active part of my family. When I feel this way I tend to hide out at home. Maybe "hide" is too dramatic a word, mostly I'm avoiding other people. Close, but not quite the same.

So two weekends ago when the Legend called and said he was going to be in the city and suggested a show and dinner I was all in. I love the Legend. I am not in love with him, but he is quite dear to me. Our relationship is somewhat unconventional. We have met up on and off for eight years now. He pointed that out to me over this last encounter. I hadn't really thought of it until then, but I suppose that makes him my longest relationship. Of sorts. He's married. He has a good wife and amazing kids. He likes to push the envelope, and well... I'm on the edge of the envelope I suppose. Life is complicated.

One of the things I like most about the Legend is how smart he is. He is one of the most intelligent people I know, and conversation with him is always fascinating. He captures my attention, holds it, commands it. He can talk about nearly any topic with a fair amount of authority, he is a conversationalist, he draws you into the discussion and it is nearly always lively. Have I ever mentioned how hot smart men are? It's just... a total panty wetter.

One of my quirks (issues) is that I have a hard time letting go of situations. I plan. I plan in detail. I like to think I'm capable of going with the flow, but seriously? Not so much. It isn't that I WANT to be in control, it's that I have little faith in other people's abilities. When you grow up with an incapable parent you tend to just assume everone else is as well. Thanks, Johnny Cash. The thing is, with the Legend I just let go. I have faith in him that he will always be in control of the situation and I just plain old don't have to worry. You can't possibly know how sexy that is to me. Maybe you can... but I don't think so. He leads. And truth be told it is an absolute relief.

We met and he led me around Broadway until we found just the right show, we sat and enjoyed a wonderful production of Legally Blonde. It was silly and lighthearted, exactly what we usually are together. The weight and pressures I usually feel evaporate when he is near. I love him for that. I relax when I am with him, I am safe.

After the show let out we had dinner at this AMAZING place near the theater. It's Toloache. If you are near there, go. Go now. Stop reading and go feed your soul. Avocado fries. I moaned when I put that first creamy crispy slice between my lips. Heaven. And try the carnitas de lechon. Slow roasted pig with habanero-sour orange salsa, cactus- avocado salad and oooooooooo this crispy little chicharone. So good. So, so good.

After dinner we walked a little and then he drove me to Grand Central so I could catch the train home. He drives like a bat out of hell. He's driven a sports car since college, his favorite being his Porsche. Only now that he's 50 (no, sugar, I can't believe you are 50 either) he thinks everyone is looking at him like it's his mid-life crisis car. He's even got a whole rant about it, it's hysterical. It was probably the best day I'd had in ages. And I am so grateful.

The Legend is one of the reasons I'm actually here in Connecticut. On my drive up from Texas we met for breakfast one morning. It was the last day of the drive and truth be told I was very afraid. Without him I'd have turned Cleopatra Jones around and headed back to Texas. I was upset and tired and afraid because there was no one to meet me here. He held me tight when I cried and told him what I was feeling and told me I'd already done the hard part. He told me I owed it to myself to see this through for a little while. He was right, he knows me fairly well. I like to think that at the end I'll have few regrets, going home would surely have been one.

Thank you, sugar...

Oh, I see a man at the back
As a matter of fact his eyes are red as the sun
And a girl in the corner let no one ignore her
'Cause she thinks she's the passionate one

Oh, yeah, it was like lightning, everybody was frightening
And the music was soothing, and they all started grooving

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

Time's Gonna Save Our Souls...

2008-08-17T17:21:00.000-05:00

"Hey, Pers, didn't your mom put your picture up on the Walmart Wall of Heroes?"

"Yep, my grandma did when I went to Afghanistan. I'm on the Nevada, Missouri Walmart Wall of Heros. I've even got my dress blues on."

"If my mother ever distributed my likeness without written authorization I would disown her."

"Technically speaking, Bradford, didn't your biological parents disown you when they put you up for adoption?"

"Point, Ray. I was one of those unfortunates adopted by upper middle class professionals, nurtured in an environment of learning, art and a socio-religous culture steeped in more than 2,000 years of Talmudic tradition.

"Not everyone is lucky enough to have been raised in a whiskey tango [white trash] trailer park by a bow-legged female whose sole qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch the sperm of a passing truck driver."

"At least my mom took me to NASCAR!"

Show Clip

Generation Kill - If you aren't watching this, you should be. It has been an absorbing distraction. Thanks, HBO.

I've been back in Connecticut since the end of May. I was able to surprise Johnny Cash for Mother's Day and spend the afternoon with Ms. Babe. The trip itself was nice and relaxing to be with my family. We got to Ms. Babe's and sat in the group visit area while Johnny Cash went to get her. As Johnny Cash rolled her past me she smiled and said hello and then twisted around in her wheel chair and her face lit up and she reached for my hands. We sat for a couple of hours just like that, talking and holding hands and laughing. As far as last memories go, I'm grateful to have such a good one.

Apparently from that day in mid May to mid July she decided she'd had enough. She began to eat less and sleep more. She drew more deeply into herself. The day before she died Johnny Cash took Ms. Babe to the hospital, everyone thought she might have a kidney infection. My aunt and cousin met them at the ER where the doctor asked them what they wanted done. After he explained that she had about a day to live I got the phone call at work. I made my flight reservations to get home and caught my flight. Ms. Babe died before I could get home, but Johnny Cash held the phone up to her ear and I got to tell her how much I loved her.

Two weeks after my trip home Johnny Cash, Martha Stewart, Sweet Pea and Boogie Man came up for vacation. I flew everyone up and had a limo meet them at the airport. My family, being who they are, took pictures of everything - including a group shot with the driver. We had a fantastic time. I think the days away gave everyone the break they needed and enough down time to just relax. We drove up to Cape Cod and went whale watching. We got to see about 30 different whales, it was incredible. The kids never stopped talking about it the whole trip. My cousins in the Bronx drove over for a day and I cooked a big lunch. We went to the beach and enjoyed lunch. The rest of the trip was shopping and driving around seeing Connecticut and going to dinner. My little house was full of laughter, yelling, and the general noise of people in the house. It feels empty now without them here.

Work has been red lining since I hit the ground and shows no signs of letting up for at least another month or so. June went by in a blur of mandatory overtime, cat naps, and take out. July is a haze with a few standout moments - most I'd rather forget. I'm tired. I get up, go to work, come home, clean house a little and go to sleep. I'm not really sure how the house gets so dirty with me not even here, but it does. The dust collects on all horizontal surfaces, there is a film on all the windows and I can't keep the sand out of the foyer to save my life.

Office politics is turning into a living, breathing beast and I want nothing to do with it. There is enough division, ass kissing and back stabbing going on to make an episode of Dynasty. I'm just waiting for the bitch fight in the water feature in front of the building. I've looked at both sides long and hard and my only conclusion is that they are all idiots. Everyone is so afraid that someone might get more than them. So what. If you want more there's an easy way to get it. Earn it. As foreign a concept as that might be it just might work.

I've been somewhat reluctant to write about my work here. Not because I don't want to talk about it, but because of security issues. I've given it a lot of thought, and well...

As you know I am a technical writer. I work for a helicopter manufacturer and write the maintenance manuals that support them. My particular group focuses on the US Navy (as well as a few foreign naval forces). Now you may ask yourself what this oil country girl might know about helicopters and I would respond to that with - not a hell of a lot. However, I know corrosion. And corrosion on a helicopter dedicated to a sea-water environment is a huge big deal. I put a lot of pressure on myself to learn what I needed to know to be good at my job. I've put in the hours. I've asked the questions. I networked. I pushed, pulled, and broke through my own limits.

And it has paid off.

Back in April work sent me to Florida for a month - to work on Marine One. Can't say more than that, but... HOLY SHIT BATMAN!!!!!!!!

While there I got to make friendly with other groups and hear how their programs were going. One of which is the new aircraft for the Marines. Let me just say it is one sexy beast - it is the baddest mother fucker around. Ever since then I have wanted to be a part of that project. So when I came back from Florida I told my boss how exciting that project was and that if they were looking for writers I wanted in. My group doesn't work that aircraft so a few strings would have to be pulled, but I really want to work it.

I found out a few days ago that my boss submitted my name to the team leader with a high recommendation. I think I might be in. If nothing else though, I know my boss believes in the quality of my work.

There's other stuff going on, but this has been my life for the last couple of months. I know I'm an asshole for not writing, and I can't promise all sorts of new posts. I have been reading y'all and keeping up with you sporadically - just not commenting much.

Later, kids.

They Called Her Babe

2008-08-03T15:18:00.003-05:00

Her name was Camille. She was born in 1912. She was the third child - second daughter - of Sicilian immigrants. Her mother died when she was 14. She dropped out of school to help her father raise her siblings. She spent a little time as a window dresser for Foley Brothers Department Store - her dream had been to design interiors.

She met her future husband through her brother-in-law - he was a bootlegger during prohibition. She was his second wife. (Clearly she liked them dangerous.) She buried her first daughter at the age of 25, she was a toddler of three who died in a terrible accident in her aunt's home. She went on to raise five other children through good times and bad.

She and her husband had a grocery store with fresh vegetables - some from their own garden - fresh beef, pork and chicken, and everything else under the sun. Together they made sure there were no hungry bellies near them. She was a seamstress for a while when her husband broke his back and could not work. She put two of her sons through university through her own labor.

Each of her children went on to marry and have families of their own. From her five children came 13 grandchildren, 20 great grandchildren, and 3 great-great grandchildren. Two of her great granddaughters bear her name as their own.

She was the glue that held a strained family together. She was the one person in the whole world who loved me every single day of my life. She was my hero, my strength, my courage, and the utter delight of my life.

She passed away last month and the world is unbearably dark without her.

Mrs. Babe, 1912 to 2008. May god bless her soul.

A Little Sunshine

2008-05-06T20:50:00.002-05:00

"I was at a dinner party this weekend with a bunch of retired NY cops - those guys have phenomenal pensions!"

"In highschool I was on the shooting team, I used to carry a .22 to school every day and keep it in my locker - and nothing was wrong with that."

Yeah, I voted for Bush the first time, but now I'm sorry, he's just fucking us all up the ass."

"You know how I got chlamydia in '68?"

"Oh man, she's got a body on her but a face you gotta push into a pillow. You should see the tramp stamp she's got on her."

The last three were said by a little beer barrel of a man with sun leathered skin and tobacco yellow teeth.

This is what I hear all day at work now. Just by general political conversation I can tell I'm back in a red state. Despite the political climate, I find that it feels more like home. The people are SO much friendlier, there is more wide-open space. I went to the market my first week here and had five entire conversations with total strangers.

The beaches are absolutely stunning. I had planned to go last Sunday, but I just didn't have it in me to venture out again. I had spent all day Saturday driving around shopping. And Oh. My. God. The shopping? Ahhhhhhhhhhh. The shopping here is definitely like home. The stores are big, plaza layouts are fantastic - it's just so inviting. You come and actually want to spend your money.

I've noticed that I get more done during the course of my day here. Of course there's no one to talk with, so that is likely a huge contributing factor. There isn't a lot to do right now on the project they sent me here to work on, and likely won't be for a few months. They (those who make these brilliant decisions) are talking about calling me back and sending me back in a few months for a week or so at a time. Who knows.

I've been going out to dinner now and then trying to get a feel for what the locals love. The sushi? Awful. I love me some sushi, and the two places I've been here are terrible. I find one cuban place that makes these slow cooked short ribs - phenomenal. But their black beans? Bland. Such a disappointment. There are still quite a few places I want to try, so we'll see how it goes.

All that being said, I miss my team, my beach and my little house. And oh man do I miss Cleopatra Jones. She needs a brake job and an oil change, I'll have to get that taken care of quickly.

I'm going home for the weekend and I'm so excited. I haven't seen my family since Christmas and it's just so great. I'm surprising Johnny Cash for Mother's Day.

I hope y'all are doing well and that your efforts are fruitfull.

Apparently...

2008-04-20T09:56:00.002-05:00

I'm a potty mouth.

Created by OnePlusYou

Who knew?

I leave tomorrow. I've got most of my packing done, now I'm just trying to finish everything up - laundry, house keeping...

I'm nervous. And excited. And overwhelmed. And eager. And hopeful. And intimidated. And maybe, just maybe, up for the challenge. I'll be taking my camera and hopefully each weekend will hold some new landscape or adventure. I've been thinking about getting SCUBA certified while I'm there, apparently there's lots of great diving there. I'd like to go deep see fishing as well.

Aside from all the distractions, there is so much I'll be able to learn and it's exciting. This is a chance I didn't think I would get early on and I plan on imersing myself in this and syphoning off all the knowledge I possibly can. I don't want to disappoint my boss. I want him to be happy with and proud of the work I accomplish.

No pressure. No. Pressure.

TMI Tuesday No. 131: The Tax Edition

2008-04-16T18:49:00.002-05:00

A day late, but I won't tell if you won't.

1. Did you have to pay or did you get money back? A little return, I'd rather keep out just enough to know I won't have to pay.

2. What was your biggest financial mistake? Suspending my contribution to my retirement fund for the last six months of 2007.

3. Are you a screamer? Depends how pissed off I get.

4.a. What part of your body, other than your genitals, do you love to have touched? I love to feel someone's touch on my cheek. Very intimate.
4.b. What part of a partner's body, other than their genitals, do you love to touch? I'm a big fan of rubbing the belly.

5. What [edit: 12:30] commercial catch phrase best describes your life? We will sell no wine before its time.

Bonus (as in optional): Who is moving to Palm Beach for a three month assignment from work? ME ME ME ME ME ME ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I leave Monday. Shit.

So I'm Cooking. A Lot.

2008-04-13T10:34:00.004-05:00

Two weeks ago I did a paella. It was perfectly rich, savory and bright. I still can't find chorizo here so I've started using andoulle and it's coming up with just enough spice to feel on your tongue, but it doesn't hang in the back of your throat and make you wheeze. The olives and capers are likely two of my favorite components, they bring such a bright flavor to the dish. I'm thinking next time I'm going to add lemon zest or wedges to the final simmer to cut a little of the richness. The crust on bottom was the most perfect thing ever, it was crisp and brown and so effing tastey. Sadly I didn't get a picture of the crust, I stirred it all up and broke it to pieces...

Last weekend I cooked like crazy. I love Thai food and haven't found a realy great place here just yet so I broke out this recipe for pad thai. It was good, but it needed more lime. There was just enough ginger to make your tongue tingle though and the noodles were perfect, I used thin udon. Sorry, no pics on that one.

Last weekend I also made bread. Yeah. And it was amazing. And easy. And kneading bread is as mentally effective as retail therapy. The feel of the dough in your hands is so sensual. The rolling motion you work into with your arms and shoulders - it's just so physical. I found the recipe at another blog I read - The Homesick Texan - appropriate, no? It turned out perfectly, you just can't screw up this recipe. The honey makes the bread sweet, but not so much so that it's unappealing. It is perfect for breakfast. I'm thinking of adapting it and making oatmeal cookie bread - roll it flat, sprinkle a layer of brown sugar, cinnamon and raisins, roll it up and plop it in a loaf pan. We'll see.

I also made pancakes. Who doesn't love a fluffy tender stack of warm syrup kissed deliciousness? The recipe is standard, nothing special, but I mixed up enough dry ingredients for 4 batches - the remaining three are cozy up in the freezer. So when I crave them all I have to do is scoop out a cup of mix, add an egg, a cup of milk and a tablespoon of melted butter. And if you'd rather buy the frozen microwavable pancakes instead - you should not be allowed to eat pancakes because you do not understand them.

The ingredients for the mix are:

4 cups flour
3 tablespoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons +
2 teaspoons sugar

You can just as easily mix up one batch at a time - divide each ingredient amount by 4. I'm just lazy and want to do it the easy way.

Eat it Up

2008-04-01T18:03:00.003-05:00

I was watching television this evening and I think I found the absolute best job on the whole entire planet and I'm deadly envious of the man who holds it. I've been lucky enough to eat his delicious food and read his insightful and edgy books, but his current job really is the bizbomb.

I imagine most of you have heard of him, some worship, some hate - to each their own. His name is Anthony Bourdain and he currently has a television show called No Reservations. If you are a foodie then you'll know about his delicious restaurants Les Halles (3 of 4 locations now I think.) It's delicious, hearty food that's quite elegant in it's simplicity, and for a joint run by a celebrity chef the prices are dead cheap.

Along with his really great food he's written a few books. I've read them and his writing is the perfect reflection of his personality - edgy, a cynical (nearly sardonic) sense of humor, and just enough wonderment to keep him from being a total dick.

His current gig on No Reservations lets him travel the globe and go native. He has a guide that takes him through the awesome sights of a city (not necessarily the tourist places), teaches him the culture and he eats. He samples the strange stuff, he eats the local staples, he goes from the high class joints to the kind of dives that will leave you with a case of two day shits.

I'm so jealous I could die. He gets PAID to do this! How do I get that gig? No, really. How do I get that gig?

Oh, and Deadliest Catch will be back on soon. w00t! Now if I can just find Oil, Sweat and Rigs' schedule.

Loose Ends

2008-03-19T22:38:00.001-05:00

I hadn't realized how long it has been since my last post until the lovely Ms. Smack brought it to my attention. It's not like things are just super busy, I mean they are, but that's normal. There's lots of work going on, family matters that never seem to end and cookings galore. I hope y'all have had really good weeks.

I've been cooking like crazy lately. I roasted the most beautiful lamb shoulder over the weekend and it was easier than spelling my name. (Which I've been known to misspell upon occasion.) I finally found a butcher and he helped me select the right cut of shoulder that would be perfect for my recipe. I flirted with him shamelessly and he threw in a couple of extra pieces for my lamb stew that I'll be doing later. (w00t). When it was time to cook I pulled out my handy dandy All Clad roaster, threw down enough fresh rosemary sprigs to simulate a tiny forest floor and a handful of fresh garlic cloves - unpeeled. I scored the top layer of fat on the roast, gave it a rub down with olive oil and a nice dust of salt and pepper and plopped it on top of the rosemary and garlic. Over the top of that I layed a few more sprigs of rosemary down and more garlic. Next I covered the pan tightly with foil and stuck it in a 500○F oven. Once I closed the door I dropped the temp to 325○F and let it go for 3 hours. After that I took the foil off, spooned the drippings over top and stuck it back in the oven uncovered for another hour. Once my time was up the roast had this beautiful golden brown color and all the juices in the pan had reduced and carmalized. I put the roast on a cookie sheet, tented it with foil and layed a dish towel over it.

To make the sauce I put the pan over two burners set on medium and mixed 1 tablespoon of flour into the drippings. Then I added a handful of chopped mint leaves and rinsed capers along with 2 cups of chicken stock and let it come to a bubble. After the sauce reduced by 1/4 I shut off the flame and then shredded the roast with two forks. It was literally falling apart so it took almost no effort to shred the roast. Voila' roasted lamb shoulder. Dee-Lish! I'm thinking my next roast will be a pork shoulder (braising a shoulder is so easy) with parsley, garlic and lemon. We'll see.

Work is good, I'm still learning plenty and there's always lots to do. There's LOADS of drama going on. Oh. So. Juicy. And naturally I can't share. Pisser, huh? Let's just say there's some serious white trash on my team, redneck is not an exclusively Southern term.

The family. My wonderful Mrs. Babe is begging to receed into herself. She has always been a fighter, so hearing about her decline is quite disheartening. Her greatest strength in life has been her ability to adapt to whatever life throws at her, and now life isn't throwing anymore. She isn't talking much or eating much and for the first time in her life she mostly just wants to be left alone. She is refusing to answer the phone or be social.

Johnny Cash is... Johnny Cash... bless her heart. She is not handling Mrs. Babe's decline well. But what do you do when you lose your tower of strength? She and her sister are already starting their greiving process and I can sort of understand that. The Mrs. Babe we have always known and adored is slipping away. I wish she would focus on her good fortune at having a vital and amazing mother around for so long, but the sadness is understandable.

My Martha Stewart is standing still. She seems incapable of moving forward. I don't understand wanting someone who can't be bothered to give a shit that their behavior tore their family apart. The Cheater has turned into a blamer. Everything is Martha Stewart's fault. If she had been more attentive, if she had been more respectful, if she had catered to him more, if, if, if, if the sky were fucking purple... We had a long conversation the other night about what isn't going on. She just doesn't seem like she can do what needs to be done. She filed for divorce back in September, but she just can't seem to follow through with it. The Cheater has stopped trying, he has stopped putting in any effort other than the occasional trip to therapy. And the last trip ended with him storming out of the doctor's office because no one believes a word out of his mouth. I guess that's one of the consequences of being a lying cheating bastard, huh?

Boogie Man has been lighting it up on the ball field already. He's rotating between third base and pitcher and doing quite the job at both posts. He's so advanced in his pitching abilities that the coach has asked Martha Stewart to enroll him in a special summer camp this year to further improve his abilities. He called me at work the other day to let me know that of his 5 base hits in his game he stole home 4 times. Effing sweet, huh?

Sweet Pea has been the total queen in her drama class. I do believe she is a natural as she comes from a long line of drama queens. Her social life has however caused her to set her priorities in an order that is displeasing to her beloved mother. Martha Stewart was not amused. Two Cs showed up on her progress reports and that was exactly when the little madame got shut down. Her little pre-teen heart is broken and suffering not so silently. This too shall pass, no? Oh, and she's got a boyfriend. They are going out. They don't go anywhere, but they are going out.

That's most everything...

I had a dream the other night that felt so good. I've had a sort of crush on someone for quite some time and in my dream he was living in the house next door to Mrs. Babe's old home. It was warm and welcoming and I was there with him, we were together. It was bed time and we crawled under the covers and made spoons. I could feel his arms around me and his chest against my back. It was the safest I had felt in such a long time. I remember the feel of his hand on my tummy pulling me back against him.

And last but not least in this marathon post:

Humina humina humina - Javier Bardem...

Chicken?

2008-02-22T18:15:00.003-06:00

I think my new goal in life is to find a husband who thinks I'm completely brilliant and will be utterly happy with me just cooking for him all the time. Or maybe when I'm sufficiently practiced I could just open my own little bistro. I've actually been talking about it with Alice Marie, one of my friends here.

I love being in my kitchen. I cook frequently and really enjoy it. It makes this empty little house feel more like a home when my kitchen smells like Mrs. Babe's. I have no idea how to cook for just one person, so I usually end up making dinner for one of the girls. Alice Marie has 2 kids at home and with homework and all the obligatory running around afterward she doesn't usually cook during the week, so I'll make dinner for her group every now and then and just bring it to the office for her to take home. A few weeks ago I was craving my baked ziti so I made the normal batch and filled a small corningware dish for me and then a larger one for another one of the girls, and her husband. I put mine in the oven and drove over to Sylvia's house and dropped her's off. She and her hubby take good care of me and have been good friends to me so I'm happy to be able to do something yummy for them.

I worked from home today because of the snow storm. After shoveling Cleopatra Jones out of her snow-plow drift I needed something utterly delicious. So after I wrapped up a bit more work I made this HUGE batch of arroz con pollo. I'm most familiar with the Mexican style, but I got a variation on the recipe from one of my Dominican friends here. Let me just say - TOTAL TASTEBUD ORGASM. OH. MY. GOD. It was excellent. The flavors were rich and complex, the texture almost creamy. I followed a method for risotto instead of cooking it like regular rice. Even though the rice was your standard long grain cooking it risotto style gave it that creamy texture you get from arborio, it just lacked the nutty flavor.

First I minched the hell out of half a yellow onion and sauted it in a little olive oil until it was all softened. Then I added a couple of mashed up garlic cloves, salt and pepper and let that begin to carmelize a little. After that add cut up chicken breasts; I used three and cubed it to about the size of a regular dice. I added a few good shakes of Adobo and Sauza and let the chicken brown. Once I was happy with that I made a hot spot in my pan and added tomato paste. If you leave it in the little hot spot a minute or two it carmelizes, the natural sugar in the tomato comes out and it adds a bit more depth to the flavor. So I blended that all in well and let i coat the chicken and cook a bit more. Next I added a cup and a half of rice and let it pan fry a bit with everything until it became translucent. After that I added a cup of water and two chicken bouillon cubes, gave it a big stir and let it bubble. Once that cup was absorbed I added another half cup. I did this several times until sufficient water had been absorbed and the rice had given off all this rich creamy goodness. With the last half cup of water I added a can of drained gandules (pigeon peas) and let it bubble.

Super easy right? All I had to do was chop an onion and some chicken and then throw in delicious bits. All in all it only took about 35 minutes from start to finish. Of course now I've got this gigantic pot of food.

Behold, the arroz con pollo!

RrRrRrRrRrRr

2008-02-09T20:11:00.000-06:00

When I grow up...

I want to be called Feroc. As in Ferocious.

I might need to get me some of that.

All Apologies

2008-02-03T19:24:00.000-06:00

Clyde set off a thread of thought in me a few weeks ago when he said, "She asks for so little in return." It's true. I'm not good at accepting anything from people - gifts, compliments, advice, praise, love... To ask for anything makes me feel like I can't do/provide for myself, which in turn makes me feel weak. I think we have sufficiently established my loathing of my own weaknesses.

Growing up we were always told to never asky for anything from people, it was rude. If we went some place to visit people (non family) the only thing you could ask for was directions to the bathroom. The theory behind that being that if someone wishes you to have something, they will offer it. Part of that stems from Johnny Cash's frequent trips to people who had very little. She did, and still does, a great deal of charity work. We might be visiting people that didn't have dinner on the table the night before, and to ask for something would be embarassing for them as they didn't have anything to give.

While Daddy was alive and working hard we had plenty. Plenty of everything. Once Daddy got sick things changed. Drastically. I come from mostly honest hard working people. Pay your bills, don't accumulate debt, give every chance you get. We were never rich, but before Daddy got sick we were very comfortable. We had land up at the family farm, a nice house, nice cars, the typical stuff. But after several years of illness the money was gone. Land was sold and savings cleaned out to pay doctor bills. The theory was that eventually Daddy would get better and go back to work and everything would return to normal. Well, that didn't happen. His illness continued to progress and eventually he died.

While Daddy was in hospice care he had a friend that came to visit every single night. Mr. Doug came every night and sat and talked with all of us and played cards with us. I'm still thankful for the kindess he showed to us. Mind you he did this after working 8 or 10 hours and driving an hour and a half to the hospital. Every single day. Well, one night while he was telling us all stories of the times he and Daddy had worked together he told us something Daddy had once told him about us. Daddy once said that he had the best girls ever. His girls never asked for anything. That really doesn't sound like much, but we knew the money was gone, and asking would only make our parents feel bad. They already felt bad, we didn't need to add to it. We simply learned how to make do with what we had. Johnny Cash told us that there was no money for extra things and that was that. We just didn't ask for stuff.

It was the way of my life. Not just in money, but in everything. Self sufficiency became very important. It was a strong matter of pride to not need anything from anyone - including Johnny Cash. It's messed up. I've been in this mental space for 25 years or so, since childhood.

Moving here was difficult, because I have yet to ask for help. I can't. I drove into town one night and went straight to a hotel. I never asked to stay with a friend. I never asked anyone for help when apartment hunting. I never asked for help moving into the house. I did it all on my own. It was hard. But that's how it always is. I can't ask, I can't make my personal needs known. And that's a shame, because it denies other people the ability to be/pleasure of being generous to me.

All of this goes to something else that Clyde has said to me recently. When I post very personal or introspective essays I can't bring myself to comment on the kind and thoughtful things you all say to me. I read them and think about what you all say and try to take in the best of the essence of your comments, but I can never seem to find the words of thanks or appreciation or explanation for what you give to me when you reply. For that I apologize.

I'm a work in progress, what else can I say?

The Babaloo Show

2008-01-27T22:39:00.000-06:00

I've had the melody of this song stuck in my head for weeks now and I can't for the life of me figure out the title of it or who sang it. It's from the late 90s and the first line (the only one I can completely remember) is "Roach coach Mexican homes singing La Cuca Racha..." Could it be more vague?

I've been working really hard on the homesick aspect of being here. I'm making a few friends and getting out more, which is nice. One of the friends I've made is Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret is just awesome. She is so funny you can't help but laugh until your face hurts. She is a single mom with two kids and she works her ass off. She's Italian too, and her family mostly lives here. We've become such good friends that I even email with her sister now.

Another friend I've made is Ricky Ricardo. He's so super. Last weekend he had me and Mary Margaret over for drinks and we got to meet his wife and kids, a nephew and a cousin. (The cousin is hot.) We sat around and drank and talked and told stories and laughed until about 2 am. Ricky Ricardo's wife Lucy was so welcoming. Walking into their house and the warmth of their family was almost like going home. The minute I met Lucy she just walked right up to me and gave me this big hug and kiss and we sat and talked for ages.

As Mary Margaret and I were leaving Ricky Ricardo and Lucy gave us hugs and kisses and told us that we were family. That their home would always be open to us, no invitation necessary. And with that he extended another invitation for the next night to watch the fights. So that's where we went. We got to meet more of the family and have another really great time. Ricky Ricardo's sister, Cuka, was there with her husband and children. Another lovely person. I'm telling you the whole family is just kind and gracious and welcoming. They are all new here as well, so they get the being alone without your people thing.

I'm trying every avenue available to me to make this a good stay. When people ask me out I go, whether it's drinks or dinner or whatever. It still hurts to be so far away. I was in the shower the other day and the memory of my last hug from Martha Stewart came to mind. The emotion was so strong and intense. I'd have cried, but the feelings came out in this sound from my chest. It wasn't sadness, it was grief. And it's funny, because she called the next morning and told me that she had missed me so intensly the night before.

Good or bad, this is where I am and this is what I'm doing.

The Ebb or the Flow

2008-01-16T14:20:00.000-06:00

My horoscope is sent to me every day around noon, I sort of use the blip sound as my mid-day alarm. Today it said "Others may not understand you but who cares? Be true to yourself." It's as generic as a fortune cookie, but that doesn't make it less true. I crave authenticity.

As much as I hate where I am right now, I love it. It's real and it's complicated and I feel more tuned in (?) to my own actions and reactions to life around me. I'm building a life of my own. I've been very clear here how devoted I am to my family. But with that devotion comes a price. You make sacrifices to nurture those to whom you are devoted.

One thing I realized on my trip home was how absent I had become in my own world before I made all these huge changes. I worked so hard at my job because it was the one thing in my life that was strictly mine. I fed it and protected it and mastered it because it felt like the only accomplishment I had that was all my own. There was no balance in that. Every day I left work to care for someone else, be it Ms. Babe, Johnny Cash, Martha Stewart, Sweet Pea, Boogie Man, or any number of friends. Don't misunderstand and think that I resent or regret those actions, I don't. But the result was that I lost myself. I lost myself in the lives of everyone around me so that I didn't have to look at my own. As much as I wanted my own identity, I didn't want it.

After everything fell apart with the ex I didn't want to be me, I didn't want to face myself and see what I had done wrong or see what was in me that let someone else think they could treat me the way he had. (It wasn't until much later that the understanding of his actions being his - not a result of something I did sunk in.) So I stumbled around for nearly a year and then found another job in an attempt to get away from everything about me that was familiar to him.

One of the reasons I was able to live this way for so long is Johnny Cash. She's pathalogically narcicistic. One doesn't so much live in her shadow as become eclipsed by her. You know how everything in Gone with the Wind was about Scarlet O'Hara? My mother is like that. Except for that part in GWTW where Scarlet becomes self sufficient and takes over all of the South. She never got that part. It's why both of her daughters are OCD and controling. She still doesn't see the connection.

Anyway, going home at Christmas let me see things in a different way. I used to get this feeling in my arms. It was like I was being shrink wrapped and my muscles would flex and strain to try and shake it away. I always thought that stress was my work. That thought was supported by the fact that the feeling went away when I moved. I wasn't with Johnny Cash for an hour before it was back. Wrong about everything, in the way, incapable of making a pleasing decision. After two days of it I was completely unnerved. Martha Stewart called that afternoon to make plans for dinner and hanging out and I started crying. She started apologizing and saying she knew the kids could be overwhelming and that things get crazy and on and on. When I could say something I told her - it's not you, it's not the kids, it's not the craziness that ensues when we are together, that is all the stuff I love. It's Johnny Cash. I can't take the constant nitpicking, needing, syphoning of life right out of me. She sucks all the air out of a room. Martha Stewart got really quiet for a minute. The very next thing out of her mouth nearly knocked me down. "I TOLD YOU SO!!!!" For years she'd been telling me how cuckoo Johnny Cash was and I would ignore it with oh, that's just mom. Well, technically it is just Johnny Cash - but that means she's crazy as a shit house rat. I don't mean that brand of crazy that most mothers have, I mean just fucking nuts.

Maybe I will be able to go back and not fall into the same patterns. Maybe I will never be able to go back. Maybe all I needed was the turning on of the light. I don't know. I have no clue. But I do know that I am better for having the light turned on. I got to see that the world is open to whatever I want.

In my final conversation with Martha Stewart the night before I came back to Connecticut I said something to her. It was supposed to give her hope, but as I said it I gave myself hope.

Sometimes life is shit. Circumstances happen. But in the middle of those circumstances we get to make a choice. Those circumstances can define us or we can choose to define ourselves by the decisions we make. Do you act or react? Does life happen to you, or do you make life happen?

Overheard in New York

2008-01-13T17:21:00.000-06:00

NewsFlash: Men and Women - Not As Different As Previously
Assumed

Black dude #1, eating ice cream: My priorities in life is
my family... Ummm... Food... And, ummm... Pussy.
Black dude #2: Yeah, I love pussy!
Black dude #1: I know, man. Me, too. I'm addicted to it.
Black dude #2: I wish it tasted more like Haagen-Dazs.
Black dude #1: Word!

Overheard in New York, Jan 13, 2008

All I'm saying is that if that wish were granted there'd be a lot less need for the fellas...

Who Do You Love

2008-01-08T17:07:00.000-06:00

A Musical Meme!!!

The rules:
1. Put your music player on Shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER WHAT. (This is in capital letters, so it is very serious.)

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY? Never Been to Spain - Three Dog Night
2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY? Madness - DJ Keoki
3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL? Sad and Deep As You - Government Mule
4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? It's Your Thing - Isley Brothers
5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE? Star Wars - DJ Keoki
6. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? Only Time - Enya
7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? Down with the Sickness - Disturbed
8. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS? Where are My Panties - Outkast
9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN? The Boys of Summer - DJ Sammy remix
10. WHAT IS 2+2? Shake Ya Tailfeathers - Nelly/P Diddy
11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? King of Pain - Police
12. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Trouble - Iris Dement
13. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? Shout - Disturbed remix
14. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? Down in it - Nine Inch Nails
15. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Sweet Surrender - Sarah McLachlan
16. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? Wheels of Steel - Outkast
17. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? Someone to Watch Over Me - Etta James
18. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? 19th Nervous Breakdown - Rolling Stones
19. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST? Just a Gigolo - David Lee Roth
20. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET? A Question of Lust - Depeche Mode
21. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? Excess - Tricky
22. WHAT SHOULD YOU POST THIS AS? Who Do You Love - Bo Diddley

I'm tagging all of you fuckers.

Smut of the Month - January 2008

2008-01-01T21:21:00.000-06:00

whispering against your lips... what is it baby?
kissing each corner of your mouth, softly licking along the edge of your bottom lip...
kissing you lightly...
stroking the back of your neck
light kiss on your chin
along your jaw
breathing slowly... inhaling you
kissing your neck...
rubbing the small of your back...

sliding my fingertips just under your shirt
softly kissing the warm spot just behind your ear licking the edge of your ear... barely biting the lobe...
kissing the hollow at the base of your throat
palms flat against your chest rubbing slowly
gently biting your shoulder
I can't decide if you want to take your shirt off or not
I think maybe just unbuttoning it will give me what I want
pushing up your under shirt
fingernails lightly scratching... just enough to give you goose bumps and make your nipples hard
nuzzling my face between your pecs
barely pinching your nipples kissing your warm skin
brushing my tongue over your nipples, biting them a little... kissing your chest

you have a whole body that I need to know baby... and I don't believe in rough introductions
moving back up to your mouth...
slipping my tongue between your lips...
tasting you
licking just inside your lips...
caressing your tongue with mine
tickling the roof of your mouth
kissing you deeply
moaning softly into you
I have this need to rub my face against your chest...
and leave kisses against your warm skin
but now I need your shirt off because I want to rub my hands over your bare shoulders
and slide them down your arms to your strong hands
I need to leave a hundred soft kisses down those long arms... and end with soft little licks on the inside of your wrist
I want to lick your fingers and feel the calouses against my lips
the tips of my fingers gently rubbing between yours...
stroking my soft cheek with the back of your hand
now I need you laying face down in nothing but your boxers
you hear me rubbing my hands together getting them super warm
my touch on the back of your ankles is firm but not rough
my hands move slowly over your calves warming you
my hands are so soft...
my hair tickles you as I lean down to kiss the backs of your knees
fingernails lightly drag up the backs of your thighs and my hands slip inside the leg of your boxers...
rubbing only the tops of your thighs...
kissing the small of your back
scratching your ass through your boxers... feeling the muscles only... how you tense and relax
kissing your warm skin again I move back down your legs
kneeling over you...
as I lean down you can feel the softness of my breasts against your calves
hands on either side of you
very slowly rubbing up against your legs...
hard nipples rub behind your knees...
soft lush breasts against your thighs...
slowly moving upward...
stopping to roll my shoulders a little and let my breasts rub the small of your back
kissing each side of you...
straddling your ass... leaning down ...
rubbing my breasts back and forth across the top of your back
kissing the back of your neck

whispering... tell me what you need baby

kissing your shoulders...
I need you to roll over
so I can straddle your lap and lean down and rub my breasts against your chest
I love feeling your chest against me
wiggling my hips a little... rubbing against your hardness
you feel good
inching down your legs a little...
fingertips tickling you just under the band of your shorts
rubbing the cotton band against your belly
up and down a little lower
looking down at you...
how beautiful you are
smiling...
I have this need to tie your hands over your head
if your hands get involved it might break my concentration...
so I definitely have to bind them
and as I scoot back up your body leaving the dampness of my wet lips on your belly... and my tits in your face...
rubbing against you while I bind your hands
I move back down your body
hands rubbing down the inside of your arms
over your chest...
down your sides...
kneeling down... softly kissing your belly
licking up the little spot of wetness I left...
it's sweet
nuzzling my face just below your belly button
feeling how hot and hard you are against me
sliding your shorts down your long legs...
looking at you
how big you got for me
how perfect your cock is for me
leaning down I softly kiss that curve at the base of your cock...
looking at you...
fingertips scratching the inside of your thighs...
teasing your balls
gently squeezing and pinching
tugging a little harder
licking...
rubbing them with my tongue
sucking on them
your cock against my cheek
you're so hot
it's like you're on fire...
licking up your shaft... feeling your heat on my tongue
rubbing the arch of my tongue against the sweet spot on the back of your head
the inside of my top lip rubbing down over your crown...
it's slippery and smooth against you
closing my mouth around the tip and sucking...
you can see how much i've been craving your head
your precome is a little salty...
my mouth is so wet and silky around your head...
sucking gently at first...
rolling my tongue over the tip
flicking it against the opening
sucking hard
feeling that fat head fit against the roof of my mouth
sucking harder...
fingertips wrapping around the shaft...
squeezing tight
rolling my tongue against you
licking just under the rim
your hips move to push up and my mouth goes loose around you
your hips settle back down and I start all over again
slow wet licks up your beautiful dick
flicking the tip of my tongue up and down against your head...
my lips go soft around you as I slip your head in and out of my mouth
your eyes are on my mouth...
waiting for my next move
my lips slide back over your head...
teeth just barely touching you... all you feel is a faintest change in texture...
up and down over your head...
sucking you so that it pulls you up through my teeth and then licking you completely
wet
hot
slippery mouth
all over your beautiful cock
fingertips rubbing against you just behind your balls...
lips sliding down your shaft...
your head rubbing the roof of my mouth...
mouth so wet and hot all around you
your thighs tense
I suck you a little softer
and tease you
rubbing with my tongue
twisting around you
just playing with you
nursing your head...
sucking tightly
one hand wrapped around your shaft squeezing
the other playing with your nipples, distracting you
your balls get tighter...
your thighs start pressing down on the bed...
lips pulling up your shaft
tongue slipping all around your head
I really need you to come
head bobbing up and down...
beautiful cock sliding between my soft lips
squeezing you almost as good as my pussy does
fingers rolling up and down you... lips playing with your head...
tongue licking and pressing
rolling against your sweet spot over and over...
looking up into your eyes... mouth full of your cock...
fucking you with my mouth
sliding down and sucking so hard
your balls jump...
I need your come
you feel me moaning all over you
my mouth is tight around you... sucking like I'm drawing the come right out of your balls...

come for me

come for me baby